Chapter Eighteen: The Enemy Comes Calling

The cultivators of the Western Demon Sect were somewhat stronger than Ji Feichen and his companion. However, they were no match for Jing Xuan’s array of protective treasures. Upon his head, the Nine-Cloud Crown sent forth white mist, concealing his presence; his Scarlet Gauze Robe absorbed all magical attacks; and the Nine-Rainbow Divine Sword darted through the clouds, striking from the shadows. The battle hung in the balance.

“This fellow’s equipment—all treasures?” someone muttered.

Magic tools, magic treasures—there are tools, and then there are treasures. The items in Ji Feichen’s hands were at best magical tools, not yet refined to the level of treasures. Yet the robe Jing Xuan wore, the jade crown upon his brow, and the sword in his hand—all gleamed with the unmistakable light of magic treasures.

“He can only wield such power because of his cultivation!” Ji Feichen watched, part envy, part admiration. “He must hold a high position in the Supreme Purity Sect.” Ji Feichen, a disciple of the Human Immortal path, wielded merely a single Demon Dragon Flail.

“Is he perhaps a disciple of one of the Five Sages of Supreme Purity?” The Five Sages, like the Seven Lords of the Netherworld, were all beings who had achieved the Great Dao of Earthly Immortality.

Seeing that Jing Xuan could handle the demon, Ji Feichen put away his own treasure and guarded from the side. His mere presence forced the demon to split his attention, wary of an attack.

As he observed the duel, Ji Feichen mused, “This demon is formidable, but his foundation is far inferior to Jing Xuan’s.”

All four demon sects shared a common origin. The northern and southern sects worshiped the Solar Crow and Lunar Toad; the Western Demon Sect revered the Tiger—a black tiger with three eyes, twin wings sprouting from its ribs, and nine tails trailing behind.

Most Western Demon Sect cultivators cultivated the fierce energy of the tiger, but this demon had instead refined himself into a vulture spirit, aiming for the transformation into a Great Roc.

“Just like me—not a true disciple of the sect. I wonder if it’s his choice or a matter of necessity.” Ji Feichen pondered. Suddenly, the demon drew forth a red light and hurled it at him, abandoning Jing Xuan to strike first at Ji Feichen.

The demon saw clearly that Ji Feichen’s presence alone was a grave threat. His eyes glittered with malice. “Kill this one first, then deal with the disciple of Supreme Purity. Even if I can’t win, I’ll find a way to escape.”

He unleashed his treasure, transforming into a divine vulture, sharp talons slashing toward Ji Feichen’s face.

“You think I’m easy prey, just because you can’t handle him?” Ji Feichen flared with anger. His twenty-four treasured beads rose, shining with white light, weaving into a spirit net that caught the red glow.

The Azure Tide Beads, ever-changing at his will, were Ji Feichen’s proudest treasure. Water light shimmered, azure tides surged; the red glow twisted in the net and transformed into a leopard with dragon scales, snarling at Ji Feichen.

A dragon’s roar erupted. The beast shattered the net and charged once more.

“Hm?” Ji Feichen sensed that something was amiss. This red treasure’s power was not greater than the Azure Tide Beads, but it carried a trace of dragon qi that countered his own.

“Is this too a magic treasure?” he wondered, then summoned the Heavenly Dragon Manifestation.

This manifestation, from the “Supreme Cloud-Forming Jade Dragon Scripture,” was the transformation of the Grand Sage, born of the Dao itself. The mighty dragon soared; two whiskers swept out, transforming into Yin-Yang Dragon Scissors that sliced the beast in two.

Ji Feichen’s mastery of the “Supreme Jade Dragon Scripture” was still shallow—the manifestation itself was vague, but the dragon whiskers had solidified, their power rivaling any magical implement.

The beast fell, reverting to a broken blood-colored blade. Just then, a shadow descended— the divine vulture swooped from above.

“Come!” Ji Feichen, unruffled, caught the dragon whiskers as they fell, twisting them into a fan that radiated dark and white rays.

Inspired by the Celestial Fox, he wielded the treasure fan, unleashing the Yin-Yang Gale. The divine wind swept out, blending yin and yang. The demon, intent on killing Ji Feichen, was caught off-guard and struck by the gale.

This wind, connecting the two realms, did not harm flesh or bone, but acted upon the soul. Caught in its blast, the demon’s spirit wavered, nearly torn from his body—he glimpsed the phantasms of the Netherworld.

“Not good!” The demon panicked, trying to anchor his soul, but it was too late.

Ji Feichen’s dragon whiskers became twin swords, striking up and down. The demon felt a chill pierce his form as he was rent into three pieces.

With his body destroyed and his cultivation short of the Human Immortal realm, the demon’s soul was torn free, drifting helplessly toward the Netherworld.

From the demon’s attack to Ji Feichen’s counter, it had all happened in a flash. Jing Xuan, coming to his senses and hurrying to assist, found the demon already slain. He marveled, “Such power from a treasure that governs yin and yang. If the full Heavenly Dragon is ever refined, what unimaginable might would that be?”

The “Supreme Cloud-Forming Jade Dragon Scripture” was truly the supreme art of the Supreme Purity lineage. With only a few days meditating on the Yin-Yang Dragon Whiskers, Ji Feichen could already slay a demon as strong as himself. If he attained enlightenment and immortality, perhaps he could wield the whiskers to create and shape the world itself.

With the demon dead, Ji Feichen gathered up the treasures and retrieved the blood-colored broken blade. Jing Xuan frowned, but said nothing. This was the way of itinerant cultivators—he acquiesced to Ji Feichen keeping the spoils.

Moreover, though the Supreme Purity Sect forbade wanton killing, Jing Xuan, seasoned in the world, would not show mercy to members of the Demon Sect. This one got what he deserved.

He approached Ji Feichen. “Some of our companions were poisoned by this demon. Could you check if he carried any antidotes?”

Ji Feichen searched the demon’s leopard pouch and handed Jing Xuan a bottle of Six-Leaf Jade Heart Pills, cure for serpent venom.

Jing Xuan accepted the vial, glancing at Ji Feichen, who now studied the broken blade. The blade exuded a baleful aura, its body dark red and razor-sharp, the hilt carved into the likeness of a dragon-bodied, jackal-headed beast.

“Is that a Yazi?” Jing Xuan laughed. “A Yazi never forgets a grudge—a dragon’s son, bloodthirsty and fond of slaughter.”

Ji Feichen felt the dragon qi within him resonate with the blade. Realizing it was a dragon-related treasure, he stowed it away. “Brother, saving lives is urgent. I’ll accompany you.”

Ji Feichen was calculating—this was a rare chance to befriend disciples of the Daoist sects. By offering aid, he could make his name “Qinghong” known, which would greatly benefit his travels in the Central Plains.

Thus, after clearing the battlefield, the two set off to help their fellow cultivators. It took them three full days to cure all the poisoned Daoists. Thanks to the demon’s pouch, which contained a map with the locations of various traps, Ji Feichen and Jing Xuan were able to disable them, saving several herbalists from peril.

With a Supreme Purity disciple as company, no one doubted Ji Feichen’s identity. Thus, “Qinghong” became known among the Daoist sects in the Snow Realm. At least here, he was now recognized and would no longer have to be wary in his travels.

Busy with these affairs, five days passed swiftly.

Ji Feichen calculated: “If those from Golden Lake seek revenge, they should be arriving soon. With a Daoist at my side, why not use him as a shield—and if trouble arises, let the Supreme Purity Sect deal with it.”

He deliberately courted Jing Xuan’s friendship. “Brother, after your travels in the north, do you plan to return to your sect?”

“I’m searching for the way to form my core—my path to Dao lies in wandering the world. Will you accompany me?”

“Of course.” Jing Xuan’s invitation was met with ready agreement, and together, they journeyed south.

…

Golden Lake—endless waves, glimmering with light.

On the night the Yaksha General was killed, Dragon Lord felt a disturbance in his heart. He set aside his wine, dismissed the singers, and called for his eldest prince.

Dragon Lord, patriarch of the Golden Lake water clans, had come inland from the sea, marrying the Lake Goddess and fathering two sons. The eldest was heir to the Dragon Palace.

The prince was cultivating among the coral groves beside the palace—vivid reds and greens ablaze with color. The handsome youth spun his silver spear in the open, like a dragon stirring the sea, a silver python roiling the waters. Whirlpools and tides surged with his movements, causing strange phenomena. Fortunately, the coral groves were protected by wards, preventing his power from disturbing the lake itself.

Summoned, the prince quickly entered the palace and bowed.

At the throne sat a divine figure with a dragon’s head and human body.

“Your son pays his respects, Father.”

Dragon Lord, clad in imperial robes: “Your Tortoise Aunt says your seventh brother was killed. I sent people to investigate—the Yaksha General was also murdered by villains. Now that your cultivation is sufficient, you shall go forth to seek out these criminals. Should you encounter them, bring them to the palace to answer for their crimes.”

Tortoise Aunt? The prince was unconcerned. The dragon had nine sons, each different. Dragon Lord, coming from the sea, had two legitimate sons with the goddess, but many other children by various spirits. Thanks to the goddess’s exalted status as the patron of Golden Lake, the concubines were never brought into the palace—hence the prince addressed them only as “aunt,” never “mother.”

Yet the prince thought: Now that my training is complete, and there’s no one in the palace to challenge me, why not go out and test myself against other cultivators?

Fierce and competitive, the prince accepted gladly, donned his golden-scaled armor, seized his wave-turning silver spear, and set off for Mount Cui-ping to investigate.

Ji Feichen, having veiled himself in dragon scales to conceal his fate, was beyond the Dragon Lord’s ability to track. Only the Yaksha and the prince were sent out to hunt him. Clues were pieced together from the rescued river god and the alchemist to whom Ji Feichen sold turtle shells.

Following Ji Feichen’s trail north, the prince traveled at his own pace. By the time he reached the border of the northern realms, Ji Feichen and Jing Xuan were heading south.

Ji Feichen made no attempt to hide his Daoist affiliation—his current appearance differed enough from his true form to avoid suspicion. He and Jing Xuan were enjoying the scenery when suddenly, dragon qi billowed in the distance, clouds and water swirling. Ji Feichen’s heart stirred: Someone from Golden Lake approaches!

He composed his features into a troubled frown and ceased his discussion of the supreme arts with Jing Xuan. With a sigh, he said, “Brother, I sense an old enemy approaching. It is best if you avoid meeting them for now.”

Jing Xuan pressed for details.

Ji Feichen equivocated, “It’s only a premonition—I don’t know who it is. Best if you withdraw, and I’ll find you later.” He would not elaborate, urging Jing Xuan to leave.

Jing Xuan had little choice but to depart. Yet halfway down the path, he touched his Nine-Cloud Crown, shrouded himself in mist, and secretly doubled back.

“If I told him everything, he’d think I was trying to drag him into trouble. But if he chooses to eavesdrop, that’s none of my concern,” Ji Feichen thought, keeping a dignified and upright bearing as he awaited his pursuer on the mountainside.

The dragon prince, humming a tune, soared northward. Glancing down, he spied the Daoist he sought. Pausing on a cloud, he descended: “You there—monster! I’ve been looking for you!”

Beneath the shade of green trees, Ji Feichen stood calm and collected. He greeted the prince with courtesy, asking, “Just now, I calculated and sensed an enemy approaching. Your Highness is shrouded in dragon qi—what brings you here? What grievance have we?”

Polite and composed, his demeanor immediately shaped Jing Xuan’s impressions from his hiding place.

“Hmph, you have good eyes! I am the Prince of Golden Lake! You slew my kin—kneel and submit yourself for judgment in the Dragon Palace!”

Ji Feichen feigned confusion. “Your father is a Heaven-appointed deity—I have no quarrel with Golden Lake. Why do you seek me out?”

“Ha! You slew the Tortoise Dragon and the Yaksha—dare you deny your crimes?” The prince sneered, raising his spear.

Tortoise Dragon? Ji Feichen now feigned realization. “You mean the Tortoise Dragon demon I slew months ago?” He bowed again. “Your Highness, that creature committed countless atrocities, devouring humans and opposing the virtuous river god. I happened to pass by, and at the request of the suffering people, aided the river god in upholding justice. His fate was deserved. Your lineage rules eight hundred li of Golden Lake’s waters—surely you distinguish right from wrong?”

See? Reasonable and well argued—helping a river god and the people against a wicked demon. Surely this aligns with your Supreme Purity sect’s values? Ji Feichen was quite pleased with his own performance.

To impersonate a Daoist cultivator, one must always seize the moral high ground.

With every word of justice and retribution, the prince’s face grew livid. He knew all too well the nature of his illegitimate brothers—the deeds recounted were certainly true.

Seeing the prince struck speechless, Ji Feichen rejoiced inwardly: “I’ve always wanted to strike others with the weapon of righteousness. It’s far more satisfying than a mere brawl!”