The retired official's surname was Sun, and the villagers called him Master Sun. A few years earlier, he had moved back from the county town and built an enormous residence in the village. He rarely ventured out, and the villagers only ever saw his steward and servants, seldom getting a chance to see the man himself.
A few simple pieces of information were enough to spin a story.
Master Sun must have been a man with a story, and the likeliest reason for his return to the mountain village was to escape trouble.
If Jing Jiu investigated, he would certainly uncover the truth, but he had little interest. After a few looks from afar, he left the village and started back.
As he left, he casually took a garment someone had hung outside to dry, tore it into strips, and used them to strap the Iron Sword to his back.
It was late at night by the time he crossed the mountains and returned to the cave.
Starlight fell like snow, illuminating the wilderness with perfect clarity.
A mountain-sized Yaoshou lay outside the cave, covered in blood and no longer breathing. There was no telling how long it had been dead, and it gave off a heavy, foul stench.
The rocks outside the cave were covered in gouges. Broken stones littered the ground, along with marks scraped by the Yaoshou's steel-spike-like bristles. One could imagine the Yaoshou's tremendous strength, its violent struggles before death, and the terrifying commotion.
Jing Jiu glanced at the Yaoshou, confirmed that its Demon Core was of no use, and walked around the corpse into the cave.
The patterns on the stone walls and floor had grown much fainter. The formation was damaged beyond use.
"Not a bad formation," Guo Dong said, looking at him.
Jing