Black Snake sniffed at a runny nose that did not exist, the gesture as natural as an unruly feral child's.
The morning sun was about to rise.
He narrowed his eyes slightly and worked his mouth, trying hard to muster something.
Then, under the many gazes watching from inside and outside the monastery, he stretched his head forward and pursed his lips.
He spat...
The spit landed on the bluestone paving with a pat and evaporated.
The atmosphere suddenly fell deathly silent. Everyone froze. The elderly Daoist rubbed his eyes, wondering whether he had seen wrong.
The old man was astonished too. In all his years, he had seen the wild and defiant, and he had seen the stubbornly incorrigible, but this was the first time a snake had spat at him. That freckled face seemed to be begging for a beating. It was a hundred times more offensive than any words!
After spitting, Black Snake folded his arms across his chest again, turning his face aside to cast an indifferent, sidelong look at the kindly old man. He still wore that infuriating expression, as though he feared neither heaven nor earth. The old man's expression remained unchanged, still kindly, but the corners of his mouth kept twitching.
He abruptly stepped forward.
His immense aura erupted like a mountain flash flood, making his robe snap in the wind.
"Fiend!"
He roared, his voice no longer low and slow. It echoed through the mountains like exploding thunder.
"Incorrigible!"
His aura swept out like a gale.
Black Snake involuntarily retreated a step, planting his left foot behind him to steady himself. Under the pressure, a faint layer of spiritual energy appeared on the surface of his Primordial Spirit.
The spiritual energy condensed into an enormous phantom-the Great Black Snake.
It was over