20. The demon can speak.

“Uncle Cat?”

“Where are you?”

Cheng Yan had been planning to ask Uncle Cat for advice on whether he should go or not, only to find, after searching, the grey little creature sprawled out under the table, limbs splayed in all directions.

He figured Uncle Cat must have slipped away for one of his mysterious errands again.

It was the same the night before last—disappearing in the middle of the night.

Feeling vexed, Cheng Yan simply packed his belongings, informed Lu He, and prepared to return.

When troubles weigh on the heart, silence comes easy.

No amount of brooding would solve it; it was better to rest.

“I’ll go with Brother Cheng,” Lu He said, sensing Cheng Yan’s shift in mood. He had no intention of indulging in his own peace of mind while his friend was troubled. Thus, the two of them, along with the grey mouse, returned together to their quarters.

“You two are back early?” Zhou Changcai happened to be washing up as they arrived.

Normally, Cheng Yan and Lu He would not return until midnight; this was quite early indeed.

“It doesn’t matter where I study,” Lu He said, setting down his basket of books and turning to Cheng Yan. “Brother Cheng, it isn’t good to bottle things up.”

Wu Agui wiped his face and asked, “Brother Cheng, is something troubling you?”

Cheng Yan let out a long sigh. “Not especially—just that I can’t decide whether I ought to go to the southeast.”

“The southeast?”

Zhou Changcai gave a cold laugh. “Bandits in the southeast are colluding with pirates from the southern seas and have seized a fair bit of territory. If you go now, it’s a death sentence. Let’s be practical, brothers—if you have connections in high places, maybe you can get yourself some military merit. But if you’re just an acquaintance and a bigwig mentions you offhandedly, you’ll only be cannon fodder.”

“Brother Zhou speaks true,” Wu Agui said, raising his teacup with a resonant voice. “That old man with the purple beard can summon wind and rain, healing maimed limbs in an instant, and even he cannot pacify the chaos. What hope do we have?”

“To go?”

“It’s certain death!”

“They say one studies both the civil and martial arts to serve the emperor, but rootless drifters can’t even keep their military merit.”

Though these two were usually carefree and unruly, their words did carry some sense. Cheng Yan found himself leaning further toward not going.

Zhou Changcai burst out laughing. “Come on, I’ll take you somewhere fun to relax.”

“Don’t keep yourself wound so tight, man.”

“How about you, Brother Lu?”

“I’ll pass…”

“My treat, my treat!” Wu Agui declared, thumping his chest and grabbing Lu He by the arm.

“Let’s go.”

…

Dean’s Courtyard.

A low command rang out from the darkness.

“Who goes there?!”

From the shadows emerged a burly man in martial attire, wearing a deep blue-black headpiece and a battle robe of indigo damask embroidered with hidden flowers. His sleeves were cinched with soft armor, a brown leather belt at his waist bearing a long blade.

He rested his hand on his sword, staring into the gloom beneath the pale moon.

Tonight, the fog was particularly dense, billowing forth like tidal vapors from the river.

Shadows flickered.

A beast’s foot stepped forward, claws sheathed in crimson armor digging into the earth.

The man’s pupils contracted sharply.

Golden eyes gleamed with a demonic light, as if their owner wore a scarlet demon’s mask. Silver-grey fur rippled in the night wind, blue fangs glinting coldly.

Layered blue-black armor fanned out in the shape of a horse’s face.

He recognized the monster before him—it was the very one that had slaughtered an entire bandit stronghold.

“The great demon!”

Dong Ping’s hair stood on end, true energy surging as he prepared to strike at any moment.

The bandit chief had been a rough master of true energy, but both man and horse had been smashed to pieces by this demon; its brute strength was far beyond the reach of ordinary martial artists.

Though Dong Ping served with the Tribunal of Three Laws, most of his skills were for dealing with people, not like those in the Division of Earth who specialized in fighting demons and spirits.

“Protect the Inspector!” Dong Ping shouted.

Swish, swish.

Two more men quickly arrived.

The three formed a triangular formation.

Xue Wu and Wan Zheng were both startled, exclaiming in unison, “It’s him!”

They too recognized the great demon.

Its brutal methods had left a lasting impression—ruthlessly wiping out the mountain bandits, it was far more dangerous than common roadside thieves. Even martial artists who had refined their true energy might find themselves in the demon’s belly after only a few exchanges.

A shadow flashed before them.

“Captain!” they cried.

At once, the three found their backbone.

Sun Shen looked at the Five-Tongue Mountain Lord.

A deep, raspy growl issued from the demon’s throat: “Roar.”

“You want to see the Inspector?” Sun Shen hesitated. He and the Five-Tongue Mountain Lord were something like friends and rivals, but that was a private matter; the Inspector’s business concerned the southeast, and he could not decide on his own.

“Roar.”

Seeing the demon was disinclined to leave, Sun Shen ordered, “Dong Ping.”

“At your command.”

“Go report to the Inspector.”

“Yes, sir.”

…

Inner Hall.

The old man with the purple beard, Zhu Xianzhen, placed a black stone on the Go board and chuckled. “Old Li, if you lose this game, you’ll have to join me out there.”

Li Julou smiled and pressed a white stone down, making the board tremble. “You just want to pick a few students.”

“I sincerely hope you’ll lend me a hand,” Zhu Xianzhen declared his purpose.

He had traveled far, not merely to recruit a few students of little consequence—what he truly hoped was that his old friend would come to the southeast and help him quell the bandit uprising.

If Li Julou would go, the unrest could be pacified.

Li Julou shook his head. “If it were anyone but you, Zhu Xianzhen, I’d have thrown them out long ago.”

Zhu Xianzhen opened his mouth to speak, but whether by hints or bluntness, or even reminiscing about old times, whenever the subject arose, the answer was always a refusal. It seemed Old Li was absolutely set on his semi-retirement. In truth, Zhu felt somewhat relieved that Old Li was still willing to teach at White Deer Academy; in this way, he could at least train a good many talents.

Though Li Julou would not come out of retirement himself, many learned scholars under his tutelage were willing to go. “Those few from the Sixty-Year Class are both wise and skilled. Take them with you—they’ll be of great use.”

“Inspector, sir!”

“What’s all this noise?”

Dong Ping glanced at the academy dean, Li Julou, then reported, “The great demon has arrived.”

“The great demon?”

“Yes.”

Dong Ping recounted their encounter with the mountain bandits and the great demon.

“It’s him,” Zhu Xianzhen said, surprise flickering in his eyes.

He’d heard Captain Sun speak of the great demon, so he’d mentioned it to his old friend, hoping to learn whether that student named Cheng Yan was different from the rest—whether he was connected to the demon and could perhaps be recruited.

He hadn’t expected that just as they were inquiring, the great demon would show up of its own accord.

“Invite him in!”

…

“The Inspector says: you are invited in.”

Dong Ping returned at a brisk pace.

Sun Shen nodded, gesturing for the demon to proceed.

“Please!”

He immediately led the way.

With Sun Shen in front and Dong Ping and the others forming a triangle around Lu Xun, they kept the demon contained. If it grew violent, they could restrain it immediately—at the very least, they could prevent it from harming the Inspector.

The Five-Tongue Lu Xun showed no fear, following them into the inner hall.

The maids and attendants, initially curious, now looked on in terror, all wishing they could sprout extra legs and flee as far away as possible.

Lu Xun’s golden eyes moved from the dean to the purple-bearded old man.

He folded his hands in a formal salute.

A low, raspy, growling voice boomed out:

“Roar.”

Li Julou chuckled, “The speech of demons is truly hard to decipher.”

With that, he flicked his finger.

A flash of spiritual light gathered at his fingertip, instantly enveloping Lu Xun’s snow-white, fur-clad form.

Lu Xun braced himself as if facing a deadly foe, but to his astonishment, he could not sense the spiritual light the white-haired, white-bearded man had released.

This man must be a formidable master!

“Roar… so strong…” came a heavy, slightly hoarse voice from his cavernous jaws.

Lu Xun was clearly stunned.

He hurriedly reached up to touch his neck and mouth, his golden demon eyes fixed on the dean—now appearing as a refined middle-aged scholar, all hair and beard white. In amazement, he cried, “Sir White Deer?”