The pig demon's body, as burly as an ox, lay across the entrance to the bamboo grove, while its enormous head lay twenty paces away.
A group of Daoists from the lower monastery surrounded the pig demon's head, clicking their tongues in wonder. Even dead, its huge, hideous head was still terrifying.
It was the first time any of these Daoists had seen such a ferocious demon, and they were all intensely curious.
"Look at the wound on its neck-red outside, charred within. The Yin Thunder had already blasted its brains apart, but its Qi and Blood were so strong that it couldn't die right away!"
"Master's Yin Thunder strikes with the force of ten thousand tons! No demon or fiend can withstand it!"
"When Master wielded the Thunder Method, his divine might was awe-inspiring, like a heavenly god commanding thunder..."
They were all Wuzheng's disciples, attendants, or junior brothers, so naturally they credited him with the chief merit for slaying the demon.
Their words were full of flattery for Wuzheng.
Zhou Wuji listened from the side without getting angry.
Wuzheng did indeed deserve the chief credit for killing the pig demon. There was nothing to dispute.
Had those two blasts of Yin Thunder not destroyed most of its vitality, softened its muscles, and dispersed the strength of its Qi and Blood, he could never have beheaded it with one stroke.
In fact, even without his sword strike, the pig demon would not have lived long if it had escaped.
The Yin Thunder technique destroyed a living creature's vitality from the inside out. It was extraordinarily tyrannical and vicious.
But that sword strike had killed the pig demon completely.
At least, the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment had acknowledged it. Information about the pig demon appeared on its page.
Eighth Rank pig demon. Could be converted into two taels and five mace of Origin Mystic Essence.
Just as he had expected, the slain pig demon could be converted into Origin Mystic Essence.
Zhou Wuji felt there were too many people around. This was hardly a convenient time to convert it into Origin Mystic Essence.
There was another issue. The pig demon had been so savage, yet it was only Eighth Rank. Its rank seemed rather low.
What effect could the Origin Mystic Essence converted from an Eighth Rank demon like this have?
"Senior Brother, thank you for helping me just now."
Wuming walked gracefully over and cupped her hands in thanks, her manner gentle and friendly, her voice all the sweeter and softer.
Seeing someone approach, Zhou Wuji first put away the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment in his sea of consciousness. He smiled and cupped his hands. "A trivial matter, not worth mentioning. There's no need to stand on ceremony, Junior Sister."
His words were polite, but inwardly he thought, This girl isn't sincere. For saving her life, even if she won't offer herself in marriage, she should at least give me a substantial gift. One breezy word of thanks makes her own life seem worthless...
Wuming was a little surprised to see Zhou Wuji speak so casually, without taking pride in his achievement.
Young men like Zhou Wuji were supposed to love showing off.
She praised him sincerely. "Your swordsmanship is superb, Senior Brother, and you're so magnanimous and free-spirited. I'm far from your equal!"
Then she added earnestly, "I was ignorant before and treated you with disrespect on many occasions. Please forgive me, Senior Brother."
"We're all fellow disciples of the same sect. Why say such things, Junior Sister?"
Seeing that Wuming intended to thank him with words alone, Zhou Wuji felt some disdain, though his response was especially gracious.
Since he was getting no benefit anyway, he might as well say something pleasant and put on a thoroughly respectable show!
While the two were talking, the villagers arrived.
The elderly village head and the others grew very excited at the sight of the pig demon's corpse.
A crowd of villagers escorted the village head to the ritual altar. He immediately knelt before Wuzheng and kowtowed, praising him repeatedly. "Your Divine Abilities are boundless, Master! You vanquished this demon and saved the hundreds of lives in our White Bamboo Village. We will remember this great kindness until our dying day..."
Wuzheng helped the village head up and offered a few modest words.
The demon-slaying had gone quite smoothly, and he was in a very good mood.
Though the village head had little education, he was experienced and considerate in both speech and conduct. There was nothing to fault.
The villagers hoisted the pig demon and the domestic pig onto carrying poles and returned to the village in high spirits.
To celebrate their success in slaying the demon, they set up large pots in the village center and heated water, scraped the bristles off both pigs, then divided them among several large pots to cook...
The village had nearly six hundred people. They could not finish over a thousand catties of pork in one meal, especially with the pig demon's meat being so tough and chewy. A few catties for each household would more or less divide it up.
The Northern Pole Sect did not forbid wine or meat, and they also knew that demons possessed abundant Qi and Blood, making their flesh highly nourishing.
The village head offered to cut up the pig demon's meat and send it to them, but Wuzheng refused.
After all, the pig demon had eaten people. Besides, a group of Daoists carrying heaps of pork would hardly look proper!
Several villagers had died as well, so the pig demon could serve as compensation for their losses.
Feeling indebted, the villagers brought out their cured pork, freshly gathered bamboo shoots, home-brewed rice wine, and other things to entertain Wuzheng and the other Daoists.
Though ordinary fare, it was the best the villagers had in their homes.
The fresh bamboo shoots in particular were tender and refreshing, and tasted excellent with cured pork.
With the pig demon eliminated, Wuzheng was in high spirits and took the lead in drinking rice wine.
The rice wine was cloudy and thin in flavor, but it went to the head quite readily.
With Wuzheng leading the way, the Daoists ate and drank, and soon they were all a little tipsy.
Zhou Wuji did not drink. He was always cautious about what entered his mouth.
The villagers were unlikely to harm them deliberately, but he still had to take precautions.
He remembered very clearly that most people in this village were surnamed Zhang.
The bamboo charcoal business also belonged to Zhang Xinhu's household in Siming County. Or rather, this entire white bamboo grove belonged to the Zhang Household.
Zhang Xinhu might have left some instructions. He only had one life, and there was never anything wrong with being cautious in such matters.
Besides, farmers were not particularly skilled at brewing wine. Poisoning from drinking it was nothing unusual.
He only ate the fresh bamboo shoots. They were so tender and delicious that he could not resist having a few slices.
Wuming swirled her coarse pottery bowl. She felt the wine contained too many impurities and really could not bring herself to drink it.
Seeing that Zhou Wuji had not drunk a drop, she mischievously raised her bowl toward him. "Senior Brother Wuji, a toast to you."
Zhou Wuji raised his bowl in acknowledgment, barely touched it to his lips, then set it down.
Wuming pouted slightly in dissatisfaction. "Senior Brother, you're hardly being sincere!"
She was already a radiant beauty. This girlish manner added a touch of playful charm, making her indescribably captivating.
"Everyone's had quite a bit to drink. Someone has to stay sober. These are troubled times..."
Zhou Wuji offered this casual explanation. Wuming was briefly taken aback. She had only been joking, and had not expected him to be so thorough.
Somewhat ashamed, she said, "You think everything through so carefully, Senior Brother. I'm far from your equal. All I know is how to fool around."
Zhou Wuji smiled and was about to offer the beauty a few comforting words when he vaguely sensed that someone seemed to be watching him. He turned his head toward the village entrance.
It was rather far away, with houses and low walls blocking the view, and night had fallen completely. Even with his eyesight, he could see nothing.
Noticing the change in his expression, Wuming followed his gaze. Through the deep darkness, she could only make out the faint outline of the magnificent mountain ranges stretching into the distance.
Puzzled, she asked softly, "What is it?"
"Nothing." A measure of vigilance stirred in Zhou Wuji's heart, but he did not show it.
With so many of them gathered together, even Zhang Xinhu would not dare act recklessly if he came. There was no need to appear too nervous.
Even so, Zhou Wuji deftly activated the Six Yang Dharma Eye, passing a hand over his eyes.
The heavy darkness instantly became exceptionally vivid and clear. Zhou Wuji looked toward the village entrance, where two large poplars stood, their dense foliage swaying gently in the wind. He saw nothing unusual.
At the entrance to White Bamboo Village, Zhang Xinhu concealed his presence and lowered his gaze, hiding behind a poplar.
He had reached the Transforming Force level. The force throughout his body, inside and out, had been refined into unity, reaching the realm where not even a feather could settle upon him.
When he had watched Zhou Wuji just now and seen him turn alertly, he had immediately realized something was wrong. He hurried down from the tree and concealed himself.
Zhang Xinhu was not afraid of Zhou Wuji. He simply did not want him to discover his whereabouts.
After waiting a while, Zhang Xinhu quietly left White Bamboo Village and led several subordinates into the woods several li away.
His subordinates all looked at him. With a cold expression, Zhang Xinhu said, "Zhou Wuji is in the village, along with a group of fellow Daoists. They must have killed that pig demon!"
Being able to kill the pig demon proved that these Daoists had some ability.
Zhang Xinhu had hurried over to help after receiving word from the villagers.
The bamboo charcoal business was his property, and the villagers were valuable laborers.
Moreover, a pig demon's flesh and blood contained spiritual Qi and were highly valuable.
But upon reaching the village entrance, he had seen everyone gathered in the village center, cooking food in pots. The dense crowd was bustling with activity.
Zhang Xinhu had known something was wrong. Noticing a group of Daoists among them, he was even less willing to enter.
He had hidden nearby and watched for a while, and sure enough, he spotted Zhou Wuji!
This brat had killed his son and fled in panic to the lower monastery, yet he actually had the nerve to come back!
Zhang Xinhu reckoned killing Zhou Wuji would not be difficult, but with so many Daoists there, he could hardly kill them all!
Besides, there were so many villagers. He could not slaughter the entire village to silence them.
If he ambushed and killed Daoists from the lower monastery, the consequences would be beyond what he could bear if even a whisper leaked out.
He had a large household and extensive holdings. He could not sacrifice the hundreds of people in his family merely for revenge.
After thinking for a moment with a gloomy expression, Zhang Xinhu said, "Aren't those rogue soldiers at White Wolf Stronghold asking for grain? Have them send men to kill Zhou Wuji and the others, and I'll give them enough grain to get through winter!"
His subordinates looked as though they wanted to speak but held back. Zhang Xinhu had always been forceful and domineering, making every decision alone.
Now his thick brows were raised high, and his square face seethed with murderous intent. No one dared voice an objection.
He said gravely, "They'll reach Old Cang Village tomorrow. Go back and have the convoy deliver ten cartloads of grain to White Bamboo Village. Set out a little later, so the convoy stops at Old Cang Village.
"Don't those rogue soldiers want grain? Then let them go rob it at Old Cang Village!"