When Yuan Bai learned that Chen Jin would not be attending the alliance assembly at Black Wind Mountain, he could not help feeling disappointed.
Restless by nature and fond of excitement, he had thought that such a major event would be the perfect chance to show his mettle.
Perhaps he could even earn battle honors and make a name for himself.
His dream was to become a demon king of his generation!
Of course, competitive though Yuan Bai was, he was not recklessly headstrong. He used his brain, too. He knew that, under the present circumstances, his strength was nowhere near enough to contend with the black bear spirit and the others.
That was why he had hoped Chen Jin would take command and bring him along.
With an immortal master presiding, who would dare run their mouth?
They would surely get seats of honor.
But Chen Jin was not going, leaving Yuan Bai with no powerful backer to lean on. His spirits immediately wilted.
Huang Yu actually harbored much the same hope, along with certain private little schemes, but there was nothing to be done. He could hardly force Chen Jin to go, nor would he dare.
Looking at Yuan Bai, he rolled his eyes thoughtfully and said, "General Yuan, let us travel together tomorrow. We can keep each other company and look out for each other."
Hearing himself addressed as "General," Yuan Bai froze for a moment. Unable to speak, he did not know how to answer.
Deep down, however, he thoroughly enjoyed the honorific. Imposing, commanding, and resounding.
Just what one would expect of a weasel, he thought. He really knew how to talk.
Reading his expression, Huang Yu said with a smile, "General Yuan, then it's settled. I'll wait for you at the Yellow Wind Graveyard. Be there or be square."
With that, he offered a salute and left, carrying his wooden walking stick.
Watching his retreating back, Yuan Bai gave a start and suddenly came to his senses. What's going on? Don't I hate this old weasel? How did I end up agreeing to travel to Black Wind Mountain with him?
Not long ago, a serious conflict had erupted between the monkey troop and the Yellow Immortal Clan. They had fought a bloody battle, with deaths and injuries on both sides.
A deep feud had formed as a result.
Who would have thought that Huang Yu's visit and a few words would ease relations between the two sides so greatly?
Of course, the weasel's earlier initiative in offering compensation and an apology had already served as a buffer.
Afterward, Yuan Bai had gone to their doorstep and vented his pent-up anger, greatly diminishing the hatred in his heart as well.
Sometimes, it was strange how friendship and enmity often lay only a thought apart.
Or perhaps he had grown lonely.
He could not converse with Chen Jin, had grown estranged from his own troop, and when he went to talk to the toad, they had somehow ended up fighting, only for the fight to end just as inexplicably.
And Huang Yu's appearance had, intentionally or otherwise, filled a certain void.
So Yuan Bai accepted it:
The journey to Black Wind Mountain was not short, and many dangers lay along the way. As for what things would be like once he reached the mountain, it was completely unfamiliar territory. He knew nothing at all.
He had never been there before.
But Huang Yu had.
Having such a companion along would therefore spare him many difficulties, and the journey would not be so lonely and dull.
Perhaps he could even take the opportunity to ask Huang Yu how to refine away his transverse bone and speak human words.
That was a matter of great importance.
At this thought, Yuan Bai could not help growing impatient, wishing the night would hurry past so he could set off for the Yellow Wind Graveyard and meet Huang Yu.
With a great battle imminent, the sense of urgency in Chen Jin's heart grew ever stronger.
He knew his own limitations. He was no immortal master or sword immortal, merely a corpse monster.
As the old saying went: when others thought you were an expert, you had better be one.
Otherwise, once you showed the cloven hoof, your end would be miserable.
Chen Jin did not consider himself particularly formidable. Although the Dragon-Tiger Inner Treasury Mysterious Scripture and the Eight Scenes Contemplation and Visualization Method were supreme orthodox methods of the Daoist tradition, their greatest value at present lay in gathering Qi and refining Qi, respectively, thereby connecting and opening the twelve primary meridians.
Through these effects, his eye apertures, ear apertures, and even tongue aperture had regained vitality, gradually restoring his five senses to normal...
None of these things could be equated with an increase in fighting strength.
The core of fighting strength was True Qi, and True Qi was born of innate essence blood.
Yet in Chen Jin's body, never mind innate essence blood-even ordinary Qi and blood were withered and depleted, barely able to sustain themselves.
As for the tiny amount of True Qi within him, it was like the last little water in a dried-up well, something he had to keep in reserve to save his life.
Fortunately, his recent diligent practice of swordsmanship had finally borne fruit. His sword moves now carried a measure of keenness. He would certainly not repeat the near-farce of last time, when the Slay Evil Sword had flown out of his hand midway through practice.
It was precisely the exquisite sword moves that had allowed him to catch Yan Ji off guard and stab him to death.
Come to think of it, that had been his first true attack.
"Swish! Swish! Swish!"
Amid the sharp sounds of air being pierced, sword light stabbed through the darkness, gleaming coldly.
After sending Huang Yu and Yuan Bai away, Chen Jin seized the time to practice his swordsmanship.
His method made use of what was at hand and was quite simple: he stabbed at falling leaves.
With winter's arrival, the old banyan shed many leaves. Whenever the wind blew, they drifted down one after another, seemingly without end.
Those falling leaves made perfect targets for Chen Jin's sword practice.
The leaves spun with the wind, drifting unpredictably. If he could strike and pierce them in midair, it would mean his swordsmanship had attained a certain proficiency.
Some experts were said to practice by stabbing flies and mosquitoes, which was more impressive still.
Chen Jin did not yet possess such skill, so he began with falling leaves.
This truly was catching the wind and grasping at shadows.
Standing beneath the tree, he even closed his eyes. Whenever he heard a leaf falling nearby, he raised his hand and thrust his sword.
The entire process demanded hearing, speed, accuracy, and force.
After all, drifting leaves were unsteady and offered little resistance.
Only a sword fast, accurate, and sharp enough could pierce straight through them.
Time passed most easily in cultivation. By the time fallen leaves carpeted the ground, only a scant few had been pierced by the Slay Evil Sword-merely two or three.
It truly was not easy.
In fact, to have achieved this much in so little time, while constrained by his body, was already remarkable.
This was chiefly thanks to his profound knowledge and understanding of the Nine Chapters of Sword Exegesis, with even his muscles retaining unique memories of executing its moves.
Some skills, once learned, would never be forgotten.
After finishing his sword practice, Chen Jin did not leap up into the tree.
That night, the clouds were thick, the wind strong, and there was no moon.
Yet through the visualization method, there was a moon in his heart and light in his thoughts. Suddenly inspired, he held his ritual sword, pointed it at an angle, and traced a circle in the air.
He gave a low cry: "Moon, come!"
The next moment, the circle filled out and shone with a clear light, actually becoming a round moon.
Its bright moonlight illuminated the area beneath the old banyan.
"The moon for a cup, moonlight for wine. Wine, come!"
Chen Jin recited the words and closed his hand in the air, grasping a jade cup. Wine rippled within it, a vivid red grape wine.
Then he sat on the ground before the shrine.
The moonlight cast his shadow, making it look as though two people were drinking together.
He raised his cup to invite the bright moon; with his shadow, they became three.
After he drained the brimming cup, the moon fell and the light dispersed. Withered leaves covered the ground, leaving a red-haired corpse monster sitting there alone, silent and wordless.