Now, Master Zhu saw that the monster in his residence actually knew how to read the wind and judge the situation. With an adept from Shangqing Palace present, it imitated a turtle withdrawing its head, making not a sound and merely playing dumb. This trick left Master Zhu angry, anxious, and afraid-
He was angry because, apart from giving customers short weight when selling rice, he had never done anything particularly wicked, yet his residence had been plagued by such a monster. He was anxious because having a monster appear was bad luck enough, but worse still, this one was not only immensely powerful but cunning by nature, able to read faces and expressions and keep itself hidden. What frightened him most was that, after all his trouble finding a highly accomplished priest capable of subduing the fiend, the monster had behaved so well that this immortal master saw nothing but peace and harmony in the residence, kept insisting on leaving, and even suspected Master Zhu of making a fool of him-
Anyone could figure it out with their toes: once this adept from Shangqing Palace left, that fiend, so versed in human ways, would surely blame him for inviting such a formidable priest and take even fiercer revenge on his household!
At this thought, Master Zhu shuddered violently. He could no longer bother keeping up his amiable expression. Suddenly, a cold gleam flashed in his eyes, and he said in a sinister voice:
"At this point, there's no other choice. I'll have to use that move!"
Master Zhu's words were so low and ominous that the old man and the boy before him, both intent only on escaping, felt their hair stand on end. It was as though the brightly lit reception hall had suddenly darkened. Madam Zhu, standing nearby, cried out in alarm at her husband's unexpected declaration, her voice trembling with tears:
"Master! Don't!"
That anguished cry echoed throughout the reception hall, filling it with an indescribable, deathly stillness. Just as the oppressive, uncanny atmosphere threatened to choke everyone, Master Zhu suddenly roared at his son beside him:
"Wencai, you unfilial wretch! Your head is as thick as a lump of elm!"
His words threw the entire Zhu household into a panic. Young Master Zhu Wencai, in particular, was utterly flustered by his father's rebuke. Only the old Daoist and Xing Yan stood there bewildered. Rather than mentioning the monster, Master Zhu had abruptly changed the subject and begun disciplining his child. After waiting a little longer and finding that Master Zhu had nothing further to say, the old Daoist could not help asking:
"Master Zhu, what exactly is this move of yours? Why haven't you used it yet?"
"Immortal master, I already have!"
"Huh? You mean that scolding just now, about wishing iron would turn to steel?!"
Seeing him behave so absurdly, the old Daoist grew even more displeased:
"Master Zhu! Do you think you can toy with me as you please simply because I am a man beyond worldly affairs?"
At this reproach, however, Master Zhu answered shakily, his teeth chattering:
"D-Daoist master, d-don't you think there's something strange in this reception hall? Ch-ch-ch..."
Faced with the old Daoist's questioning, Master Zhu stammered out an irrelevant reply, trembling all over, his teeth knocking together incessantly! Once they understood what he meant, the old Daoist and Xing Yan felt their hair rise and hurriedly examined their surroundings. Their eyes swept around the reception hall several times, but they could see nothing unusual. Qinghe exchanged a glance with Xing Yan, then turned back to the terrified Master Zhu. By now, his teeth were chattering so hard that he could not speak at all. He merely pointed toward the eastern wall.
Following his gesture, the old Daoist and Xing Yan steadied themselves and braced for every manner of horrifying sight before daring to look shakily in the direction he indicated. On the whitewashed eastern wall of the reception hall, they saw a painting of a begonia tree covered in brilliant blossoms. A parrot perched on one of its gnarled branches, its red crest and green feathers rendered with such exquisite realism that it seemed alive.
While the two were studying it nervously, the parrot in the painting suddenly spread all its feathers and cried in a strange voice:
"Mon-ster! Mon-ster!"
That abrupt cry startled the old Daoist and the boy into a cold sweat!
But a moment later, once he had recovered from the fright, the old Daoist chuckled. Picking up the peachwood sword beside him, he turned to Master Zhu and said:
"It's only a bird demon that's attained sentience! Is that worth being so frightened over? Just wait while I catch it. It'll make a fine roast to go with my wine!"
Seeing how tiny the demon bird in the painting was, seemingly too small to withstand even one blow from his peachwood sword, old Qinghe's courage surged back. He was positively itching to try.
"...That's not it, immortal master."
Seeing Qinghe eager to advance, Master Zhu said:
"The monster isn't that parrot! The parrot isn't actually part of the painting-it's a real bird. I had someone bore a little hole in the wall at that begonia branch, then insert a parrot perch from behind, so this little bird could flap and hop about on it. From a distance, it looks as though the painting has come alive! Heh, I spent a fortune having it made!"
As he spoke of this proud achievement, Master Zhu's teeth seemed to stop chattering. His speech grew fluent again, and he looked rather pleased with himself.
"Oh! So that's how it works. That really is interesting!"
Hearing Master Zhu's explanation, Xing Yan thought it was indeed quite clever.
"Indeed! Truly ingenious, just what one would expect of a wealthy household in Raozhou City... uh!"
At this point, Qinghe suddenly came to his senses and snapped:
"Master Zhu, what is the meaning of this? Did you invite us here today merely to boast about your furnishings? You've made a fool of me time and again. What exactly are you trying to do?"
Having mistaken a live bird for a genuine monster, Qinghe felt he had embarrassed himself in front of everyone, and his shame turned to anger. Seeing his fury, Master Zhu hurriedly apologized:
"Please don't be angry, immortal master! It's my fault for not explaining clearly. There's nothing wrong with the wall painting. It's that bench that just appeared in front of it that's causing trouble! Please show mercy and save my whole family!"
At these words, the old Daoist and Xing Yan looked toward the foot of the eastern wall again. Only now did they notice a four-legged bench sitting crookedly before the begonia painting, seemingly appearing from nowhere. It was about two arm-lengths long, with a broad seat and well-smoothed edges, plainly indicating considerable age. Curiously, though, its wood was still quite pale. Evidently, its owner wiped it down diligently and maintained it well.
From what Master Zhu had said, this bench apparently had not been there before. It had appeared in front of the painted eastern wall only after he shouted those words...
"You mean this elm bench is causing the trouble?"
The old Daoist asked doubtfully.
"Exactly! Your discerning eyes truly blaze like torches, immortal master. The trouble lies precisely in its being an elm bench!"
"Oh? Is an elm bench something special? Hmm... benches made of elm are sturdy and durable, resistant to woodworm, and last for ages... eh? But what does an ordinary elm bench have to do with monsters? Surely you aren't showing off your household possessions to me again?"
Hearing the old Daoist's doubts, Master Zhu offered no further explanation and simply repeated his earlier incantation:
"Your head is as thick as a lump of elm!"
Hearing him repeat that nonsensical, toothache-inducing spell, the old Daoist was amused and was about to make a few mocking remarks-yet the instant Master Zhu finished speaking, a startling change occurred!
Qinghe suddenly heard the boy beside him cry, "Ah!" and raise a hand to direct his attention toward the eastern screen wall. Looking over, the old Daoist saw that the long, broad bench, which had seemed perfectly ordinary moments ago, was undergoing an eerie transformation:
A scarlet haze suddenly rose and spread through the formerly pale wood, as though the elm bench had been so humiliated by Master Zhu's words-scolding the elm by pointing at someone else-that its face had flushed red. Its four legs began moving, pawing ceaselessly at the floor like the limbs of a beast about to charge. The two dark-brown knots at the head of the bench now resembled human eyes, glaring furiously in their direction. That once unremarkable elm bench had suddenly become brimming with life, as though transformed into a vicious dog ready to pick someone to devour!
"Mother of mercy! It really is a monster!"
At the sight, the old Daoist inwardly groaned without end!
As for Xing Yan, although the strange phenomena he had experienced on Poyang Lake-with raging winds and waves, flashing lightning, and crashing thunder-had been countless times more spectacular, his terror now was no less than it had been then. This slow, soundless transformation was even more frightening and unsettling. A chill crept up his back, raising goosebumps all over his body!
While they were utterly terrified, the stout Master Zhu beside the old Daoist saw the Bench Demon stirring and was frightened nearly out of his bowels. With a sudden leap, he darted behind the old Daoist. Who would have thought such a bulky body could dodge and scramble so nimbly!
Once he had hidden somewhere safe, Master Zhu began urging him frantically:
"Immortal master, cast your spell, quickly! This monster is terribly vicious when it loses its temper!"
Hearing this, the old Daoist panicked even more. He hastily gripped his peachwood sword and stuck his index finger into his mouth. His expression had become exceedingly solemn.
"Huh? Old Daoist, what are you doing?"
At this critical moment, instead of thinking how to defend them and subdue the monster, the old Daoist was noisily sucking his finger like a little child. Xing Yan found this most bewildering. At his question, the old Daoist snorted:
"Idiot! You've never seen the true arts of our Daoist tradition! The really powerful spells require you to bite your tongue or finger and spray a mouthful of fresh blood onto your ritual implement. That increases its power dozens of times! Seeing how vicious this monster is, I'll have to shed a little blood today!"
Yet, whatever he might say, biting through a finger or tongue was hardly as easy as spitting. The skin of the hand was naturally tough, and teeth were nowhere near as sharp as knives or saws, so breaking it was truly difficult. Besides, all ten fingers were linked to the heart; biting one's own finger was especially painful. Unless someone was utterly savage, how could he steel himself to bite down without hesitation? Never mind those storytellers in teahouses and taverns, who only had to flap their lips to rattle off, "He bit the tip of his tongue and sprayed a mouthful of fresh blood onto the peachwood sword," making it sound perfectly easy. Actually doing it was no simple matter.
Thus, after all the old Daoist's efforts, he had left only a few tooth marks on the tough skin of his finger, without drawing even the faintest trace of blood!
Leaving aside the frantic commotion on this side, the Bench Demon observed them for a while and decided that the two facing it were not particularly strong. Like a vicious dog, it suddenly drew its body back, gathering momentum. Then, with a rushing gust, the elm Bench Demon sprang forward like wind and thunder.
Master Zhu, hiding behind the old Daoist and using this adept as a shield, had thought himself fairly safe. Who could have expected him to bear the brunt of the attack! The Bench Demon's charge was fierce, but it was also extraordinarily agile. With a swish, its body twisted around like a water snake, curving straight toward Master Zhu!
"Eek!"
Before anyone could clap a hand over an ear at the thunder, Master Zhu's bulky body, weighing nearly two hundred jin, was knocked flying like a straw man and hurled far away. He tumbled from the center of the reception hall all the way to the western screen wall, overturning countless pieces of furniture and vases along the way. When he finally landed, he crushed a chair beneath him!
Before anyone could react, the astonishingly strong and swift Bench Demon charged left and right through the reception hall like a tiger among sheep, knocking everyone head over heels and filling the room with unending cries of pain!
After that wild stampede of wolves and boars, most of those in the reception hall lay sprawled on the floor, groaning incessantly. Even the old Daoist Qinghe had been knocked beneath the square dining table. His peachwood sword was now covered in fresh blood, though it was blood the impact had knocked out of him.
Looking around now, the Zhu Residence's reception hall, once lavishly splendid and arranged with exquisite care, had become a complete shambles. Flower stands had toppled, tables and benches lay askew, vases were shattered, flowers broken, food and wine scattered, and water spilled across the floor. With injured people everywhere, it resembled a battlefield after a fierce struggle. Not a trace remained of its former wealthy grandeur. Even the live parrot in the wall painting, Master Zhu's pride and joy, had snapped the little cord tied to its leg and fled through the window in panic. It circled the residence three times, gave a few crowlike caws, and escaped toward the distant houses.
Yet while everyone else had been knocked to the floor, the boy remained entirely unharmed, standing alone amid the wreckage of the reception hall, conspicuous beyond measure.
As it happened, although the Bench Demon had charged back and forth, ravaging like fire, it had always skirted around this boy from the streets, Zhang Xingyan.
The boy, still completely unscathed, was himself baffled and could not stop his thoughts from wandering:
Could this monster really be so perceptive? Does it know how strong I am and fear it couldn't knock me flying, so it doesn't dare provoke me?
While Xing Yan indulged these wild thoughts and hoped for a lucky escape, the monster unexpectedly turned around. Its two knotted "eyes" stared fixedly at him, its four feet pawing the floor without pause, as though it was hesitating over whether to attack the boy.
I'm done for! There's no escaping it after all!
Don't come over, don't come over, don't come over...
All the boy could do now was pray without ceasing. In truth, he understood that however strong or nimble he might be, it would make no difference. The monster nearby was simply too fast, and the elm wood was exceptionally hard. There was no way he could withstand such a lightning-swift impact.
Just as Xing Yan was swearing vows and offering promises to every passing immortal, he suddenly saw, to his horror, that the Bench Demon seemed finally to have made up its mind. Its body sank backward, then, with a sharp swish, the entire bench shot toward him like a bolt of lightning streaking across the sky, bearing the crushing might of thunder...
Before you continue