27. The Arrival of the Demon

The short man picked his teeth as he glanced at Big Mouth and asked, “Why did you stay behind?”
Big Mouth grinned. “Can’t be at ease leaving Tripod here alone.”
“Tripod wanted to stay, besides, the boss doesn’t mind,” the short man shrugged, then turned to Zhuangzi. “And you? Why are you still here?”
Zhuangzi fiddled with the cup, its metal shining in the moonlight. “I’m hungry. I want dinner.”
Big Mouth shot back, “Why don’t you go?”
“Hmm… No point going back. I don’t get along with the others,” the short man stubbornly made excuses, his eyes darting about before settling on Old Cat. A smile blooming, he asked, “And what about you, Brother Cat? Why did you volunteer to keep watch tonight?”
“Meow.”
The short man signaled for Big Mouth to translate.
“He says: he has his reasons.”
The short man blew out a breath; the first few times, he’d actually thought Big Mouth could understand cat-speak.
The black cat, Lu Xun, lay sprawled on the blanket, so comfortable he wanted to roll over.
He intended to keep watch in secret, but a few of his brothers had decided to stay as well, so he might as well be open about it.
After all, he couldn’t just tie Zhao Jia to this place.
He still had to investigate the monster, meet with the county’s sheriff, question the monks of Clear Spring Temple, and visit the other families.
It made no sense to keep the most capable person stuck here.
So, Old Cat would do it in his stead.
“Tea?”
“The night’s long—how about a few rounds?”
“Deal!”
...
Liu Hong sat in his room, gazing at his wife lying on the bed.
That donkey demon was ruthless—had turned a living person into this.
Dr. Chu had said her vitality was depleted, that medicine could only help so much, and rest was the only true cure.
But now, the little silver he had was confiscated by the constables, and summoning the monster again could mean death.
From the way the constables were arrayed, he must have lost quite a bit of money.
He’d heard the magistrate’s brother-in-law had been robbed of tax silver by a monster—hundreds of men hadn’t been able to stop it. Did they really think three petty officials could handle it?
Even if they made it through tonight, what then? If the monster wasn’t caught and the prefecture pressed them, the magistrate might well pin the blame on them, sentence them to death—there’d be no way to explain.
Better to leave quickly.
He could at least find a foothold with his great-uncle in Liuhe County.
With the candle unlit, the room was a shapeless mass of shadow.
Liu Hong took his wife Chen’s hand and made his decision. He immediately ordered the steward and maids to pack valuables, and at dawn, they would cross the river by boat to relatives in Jiangdong.
The household bustled into action, preparing to depart.
...
The county office blazed with light.
Zhao Jia shoveled food into his mouth, a small ledger laid out on the desk, brush ready at hand. Between bites, he questioned: “When did the toad monster appear at the temple? Did it come on its own, or did someone bring it? Speak up, monk—come clean and save yourself the pain.”
“I know nothing of any toad monster…”
...
The old abbot still bore bloodstains on his face, proof enough that the arrest had been rough.
Zhao Jia sneered, putting down his bowl and chopsticks. “Master Yujing is famed for his profound dharma, the foremost debater for a hundred miles.”
“I have simply lived longer and read more scriptures, that’s all.”
“Come now. The monk recites the dharma, the constable recites the penal code—let’s see which is stronger!”
At Zhao Jia’s command, tiger benches, boards, crowbars, branding irons—all manner of instruments were hauled in at once.
“Torture!”
Zhao Jia had no time for further nonsense.
Screams pierced through the county office. The supervising monks—guestmaster, cook, dormitory head—cowered like quails, some even wetting themselves on the spot, urging their abbot to confess.
None of them could withstand such torture.
Zhao Jia paid them no mind, continuing with his meal. He’d been run ragged trying to trace the origins of this Five-Tongued God and recover the stolen tax silver—anyone who resisted was defying the law.
“Before, you were lawful, and though I disliked it, I still protected you. Now you’ve broken the law, I have no need to be gentle.”
Who could say where the line lay—how much was the pursuit of justice, how much personal resentment? Zhao Jia sat above them, a face of iron, like King Yama himself.
“Ah!”
“…”
“I confess, I confess…”
Abbot Yujing’s face was ashen, sweat the size of beans rolling down his bald head.
He’d heard from Guanglüe and Guangfa about the matter and thought that unless the officials had proof beyond the toad monster, the temple’s reputation could be preserved if he just held fast.
Now he saw he’d underestimated the officials’ resolve.
Zhao Jia gestured to the clerk beside him. “Write!”
“Speak:”
“When did the monster arrive, how did it arrive, what evidence remains?”
“…”
“There’s also a clay idol, brought by a monster, as proof.”
“A clay idol?”
Zhao Jia was suspicious. He waved his hand. “Bring the evidence!”
Constable Ah Mao immediately fetched the clay idol.
...
Liu Hong, having packed, stormed into the back hall.
He’d arranged the altar himself—where once a Bodhisattva stood, there was now another clay idol.
It stood about a foot high, riding clouds and mist, treading upon river waves—a vague figure of a monkey, thunder god’s beak bared with sharp fangs, rough nails forming a secret gesture.
Liu Hong, poised to leave at dawn, stared hard at the idol, his heart a tangle of resentment, rage, and hate.
What disaster this monster brought him!
He had no thought of staying. In a fit of bitter courage, he seized an axe from a servant and hacked the idol’s head, smashing it to pieces. “Grind it up and bury it out back. Don’t let anyone find it.”
“Yes, Master.”
The servants cleaned up the remains.
...
Old Cat yawned, his ears twitching, suddenly lifting his head.
The chill brought by the mist made his fur bristle, his body arching instinctively, ears flattening into airplane wings.
“Meow-aow!”
Big Mouth sprang up at once, clutching his waist-knife.
Tripod always moved like a tiger at leisure, handling any crisis with ease and feline grace. But never had he heard such a howl from this black cat.
“Something’s happened!” The short man leapt to his feet.
Zhuangzi grabbed his broad-backed blade.
On the roof, the black cat kept watch, eyes narrowed, ready for war.
The fog poured down like a waterfall.
From the haze emerged a handsome man in purple robes, face darkened with anger, striding into the courtyard without so much as a glance at the three constables or the black cat on the eaves.
The three men were baffled—they’d expected a monster, but here was a gorgeously dressed man.
“Meow!”
Lu Xun had to remind them once more—this was no human.
Big Mouth was the first to react. “Monster!”
“Damn it, how unlucky can we be?” the short man cursed. The boss had said that as long as they didn’t summon it, the monster wouldn’t come—so why was it here anyway?
Without hesitation, he fired a signal rocket into the sky, bursting in a shower of sparks.
“If we can’t escape, let’s give it a try,” Zhuangzi charged, blade in hand.
“Don’t—”
Bang!
The man in the purple robe took a single step and unleashed a mighty punch. The two-hundred-pound Zhuangzi, armored but not in full battle gear, was sent flying, tumbling three or five steps before collapsing, clutching his belly and howling in pain—a cry as loud as the signal rocket, echoing through two or three streets.
The short man was stunned. Zhuangzi could spar with Captain Zhao—a master of hard martial arts, whom no ordinary men could restrain. Yet, a single punch from this man had him rolling on the ground, wailing in agony.
His courage deserted him in a flash, and he thought of the girls at the Drunken Pavilion.
Their every smile, so gentle.
The food was good,
the wine delicious.
Why was he here?
“Move!”
Big Mouth shoved the short man aside.
The rage of the man in purple was palpable; with a sweep of his fist, he meant to kill every witness.
“Thud!”
A streak of white light shot out and struck.
The man’s body halted mid-motion.