Let’s hunt something to eat.

Midnight had just begun.

Yawning incessantly, Cheng Yan and Lü He pushed open the door to their room.

No matter how diligent one is, work and rest must be balanced. A night or two without sleep does little harm, but as time drags on, efficiency inevitably falters, and the body suffers. So, when the hour struck, the two packed up their things and returned from the library to their quarters. They tiptoed inside, only to discover that Zhou Changcai and Wu Agu were not in their beds.

“Could it be that Brother Zhou and Brother Wu have also gone to the library?” Lü He joked.

Cheng Yan chuckled, “The sun will never rise in the west.”

He reached out to feel the bedding.

Cold.

“They must have been out for quite some time.”

“Could something have happened?” Lü He's teasing tone vanished. No matter how unruly those two might be, they were still classmates and fellow townsmen. He did not wish to see them come to harm.

“What could possibly happen within the Academy?” Cheng Yan was unconcerned.

Within the Academy resided many learned instructors, all men of skill and ability. No ruffian or villain would dare to break in. After tidying up their beds and washing, they lay down, Cheng Yan intending to meditate upon the Compendium of Great Demons before sleep.

Lü He sighed, “Still, a slim chance is still a chance.”

“Well then, I'll send Uncle Cat to look for them…” Cheng Yan turned over, preparing to ask for help from Old Cat, but after searching, he found no sign of him.

Not only was Uncle Cat gone, even Huibao was missing from its nest.

Lü He thought better of it. “Let’s speak of it tomorrow.”

…

Deep in the night, the moon hung suspended on the tip of the pines.

Wutong Lǔ Xun arrived on schedule at the ancient pine forest.

Sun Shen was already waiting.

As he approached—

A low rumble came awkwardly from his belly.

Fortunately, the Wutong God’s face was always red, like a mask of ruddy bronze, so no one could see Lǔ Xun’s embarrassment.

Sun Shen smiled calmly, “Come, let’s go into the mountains and hunt something to eat.”

The Five Elders’ Peak was aptly named; Bailu Cave Academy stood amidst encircling mountains, never lacking in wild game and delicacies. If one tired of mountain fare, they could hunt water creatures at nearby Poyang Lake. Now was prime season for crabs, the lake crabs from Pengli Marsh famed for their size, fat, freshness, and sweetness.

Wutong Lǔ Xun nodded, spreading his left arm and shaping his right hand into a whistle.

A sharp note pierced the night.

A dark shadow streaked across the sky above the ancient pines, folding its wings as it dove. Iron claws gripped the silvery, snowy fur of a simian arm, and a snake-like head bent to preen ruffled feathers.

Huibao scampered up the armored skirt to perch on Lǔ Xun’s shoulder.

Lǔ Xun murmured a low command.

The toothless night-hawk beat its wings and vanished into the dark.

Lǔ Xun then turned to Sun Shen, his rough voice suppressed, “Shall we?”

Sun Shen clicked his tongue in admiration. That a great demon could command lesser spirits was truly impressive. “Good, good!”

He took the lead, leaping up the ancient pine, the boughs bending lightly as if from an autumn breeze. Arms folded, Sun Shen gazed out over the distant sea of flaming maples.

With a twist of his head, he saw the demon, waist bound in blue-black armor, standing at his side, golden pupils glinting in the moonlight.

Since mastering Ape Form Fist, Wutong Lǔ Xun had gained greater control over his strength and deepened his spiritual cultivation. Only days ago, he could never have stood so calmly on a swaying treetop.

He launched himself into the air, leaping with the wind, arms hooking a branch to swing through midair.

Huibao’s bead-like eyes widened as he clung desperately with paws and feet to Lǔ Xun’s shoulder.

Sun Shen grinned knowingly, also dropping from the treetop. Though adept in forest movement, he was not as graceful as the Wutong God.

Yet there’s no shame in steady skill.

Amidst the towering peaks and crimson cloud-seas, man and demon seemed to compete, chasing and challenging one another.

Such contests were hard on the mouse.

Huibao eventually lost his grip, surrendering to fate and releasing his claws, left dangling by his big teeth clamped onto a tuft of snowy fur. At last, as they swung out over the mist towards the Jade Pillar Peak, exhaustion claimed him.

Using all four limbs, Huibao finally let go, mouth wobbling unwillingly, and began to plummet from the thousand-blade heights into the cloud below. A large hand caught him, tucking him into the armored skirt at the waist.

Within his nest, Huibao let out a long, relieved breath.

General Toothless swept across the sky; no beast or monster could hide from its gaze.

In short order, it spotted a wild boar wallowing in a muddy mountain hollow.

A shrill whistle.

The muddy boar roused itself, eyeing the intruders warily.

“What a fine wild boar!” Sun Shen was about to advance when Lǔ Xun raised an arm to stop him.

“Let me,” rumbled Lǔ Xun.

“Very well.” Sun Shen stepped back. He wished to see what the Mountain Lord had learned.

Practicing stances and forms is all lifeless repetition; only true skill emerges in real combat.

From his waist, Lǔ Xun pulled out an object and tossed it to Sun Shen, who caught it with both hands. Examining it, he saw it was a fat, grey-furred rat, slick and oily, more like a nearly grown grey cat than a mouse.

Chittering, the rat squirmed.

Sun Shen played with it, laughing. “So, it’s you.”

He recognized the mouse at once—wasn’t this the very pet belonging to that boy he’d once instructed? Glancing at the blue-black armored figure, over seven feet tall, striding like a dragon or tiger, Sun Shen could hardly fail to guess the demon’s identity now.

The wild boar shook its massive head, coarse tusks jutting high, displaying its might.

Its four tusks were each unique, but one bore a prominent claw mark that ran from its brow, across its snout, making its nose look like a flower petal.

Where the scar passed, not a single hair grew.

The armored boar grunted low, its egg-sized, black-and-white eyes shifting warily.

Rising from the puddle, its bulk was evident—a hulking mass of muscle, like a squat hill. Seeing the silver-furred ape not retreat but advance, the boar let out a savage roar, bloodshot eyes glaring.

As the boar charged from the hollow, the ground trembled, its speed astonishing. Rocks and saplings in its path were swept aside with a toss of its head, flattening the terrain. In a blink, it was before Lǔ Xun. A single hit from those tusks would cripple, if not kill.

Lǔ Xun sidestepped lightly, his long fist whipping out from the right.

A crisp sound rang through the night.

The massive boar staggered and collapsed.

Blood and froth, mingled with saliva, gushed from its snout and mouth.

Once fallen, the boar never rose again.

After a few spasms, it lay still.

Sun Shen nodded in deep approval.

The Mountain Lord’s punch perfectly embodied the essence of Ape Form Fist—cold, sharp, and precise. His legs rooted like ancient trees, the ape’s arm and spine forming a unified whole. To the eye, it seemed unremarkable, but the boar’s skull had been shattered by the force.

To use the least strength and spirit for the greatest effect—that is true martial skill.

This put Sun Shen much at ease.

He had once doubted that a few days’ training could teach much, but now, so long as the great demon stayed the course, he would surely master the Ape Form Fist in time.

What power might a true demon wield, having grasped the fist’s essence?

Sun Shen could not help but imagine.

If only such a one were in the southeast…

But for now,

Time to eat.