Chapter 39: Hand-to-Hand: Subduing the Monkey Demon

The straw-cloaked monkey demon removed its straw hat, revealing sparse, aged black fur.

Its body was short and stunted, yet its head was large; as its lips curled, two tusks emerged: “Your swordplay isn’t bad, but your blade’s no good.”

The young, tall monkey demon knelt on one knee and pulled out a long object wrapped in silk; it carefully unrolled the silk to reveal a slender ceremonial blade.

The scabbard was straight, entirely black and glossy, adorned with gilded patterns.

It extended both hands, respectfully lifting it.

The withered claw of the old straw-cloaked monkey gripped the hilt, drawing forth the blade’s dark luster, examining it with faint affection.

Whether by coincidence or not.

Shen Yi noticed that among these demons, the higher their cultivation, the more they imitated humans.

The yellow-skinned weasel rode in a palanquin but remained fixated on gluttony, its mind filled only with thoughts of eating humans, naming itself based on its appearance with a crude nickname.

These monkey demons, however, wore human clothing, chose elegant names from books—calling themselves Tongtian—and slept with the most delicate women.

As for the Green Scale Old Mother, she even began applying makeup, kidnapping the finest craftsmen to forge the most beautiful, luxurious jewelry.

“My blade is named…” Yuan Tongtian held his breath, eyes blazing, ready to explain the blade’s origins in detail.

Shen Yi shook off his thoughts and swung his blade toward the kneeling, tall monkey demon.

First kneel before a fight? What’s the matter with you?

Crimson killing aura wrapped the blade as it slashed downward with crushing force toward the demon’s neck.

Since completing the Golden Sun Eight Treasures Golden Body, Shen Yi found his strength like a vast, ceaseless river—far exceeding his former limits.

The two demons clearly hadn’t expected him to strike suddenly.

The tall, young one froze for an instant before hastily raising his arm to block.

That brief hesitation was enough—the blade severed its cervical spine as if cutting tofu.

The head, eyes wide with confusion, rolled to Yuan Tongtian’s feet.

Holding the ceremonial blade, it clenched its nostrils and shrieked: “Absurd! Absurd! A crude, uncultivated peasant!”

Even I, before eating, wipe my hands with a damp cloth, bathe every three days, and burn incense every five.

How much more so for killing—a matter of utmost gravity—requiring self-introduction, clear reasoning: why I kill you, and how I shall defeat you.

How could one… how could one make such a crude, ugly mess of things?

Screaming, Yuan Tongtian’s small frame leapt upward, his black blade slashing repeatedly—steady, ruthless, revealing solid foundational skill from the very first strike.

Frosty blade qi erupted, instantly shattering the small thatched hut.

Even amid chaotic emotions, Yuan Tongtian’s black blade movements remained orderly, profoundly mysterious—clearly a perfected beginner-level sword art.

Not only did it imitate human behavior, it even studied martial arts.

“No manners? You deserve to die!”

“You killed my descendants? You deserve to die!”

“Die now!”

Yuan Tongtian hunched and howled, pressing forward step by step, his two extremely long arms flailing wildly, each strike faster than the last.

Under this furious assault, Shen Yi’s expression remained unchanged, his steps steady—but inwardly, he felt a touch of weariness.

This old monkey was clearly no ordinary demon; it had been guided by someone. The sword art it used seemed tailor-made for its arms, and that ceremonial blade was no ordinary weapon.

The official blade in my hand is worth only seven taels and two mace, after deducting the workshop’s graft…

I hadn’t noticed before, but now, facing an opponent equally at the beginner’s peak, equally skilled in martial arts, the gap in weaponry became glaringly obvious.

If I persist in thinking I can subdue it without injury, I’ll pay a heavier price.

Realizing this, Shen Yi’s gaze grew calm; he seized an opening and slashed.

The gap between weapons was even greater than he’d thought.

Merely one full-force clash shattered his official blade—the edge flew off.

Fortunately, he’d anticipated this; he let go of the hilt, advanced instead of retreating, closing the distance abruptly, his long, powerful fingers clenching into a fist.

He was aiming for a trade: injury for injury!

Yuan Tongtian saw his intent, not only unafraid, but grinning savagely.

Only it knew how razor-sharp its lifelong companion blade truly was.

Trade injury for injury? You won’t live long enough to strike again!

The next instant, the black blade slashed toward Shen Yi’s shoulder!

No flesh splitting as expected, no wet crunch of cutting meat.

Bang—

As the sound of metal meeting metal rang out.

Both froze.

Yuan Tongtian gripped the long blade in disbelief; no matter how hard it strained, the gleaming black edge couldn’t press down an inch.

“...”

It lifted its head and saw the same flicker of shock in Shen Yi’s eyes.

So…

What are you shocked about? What were you dodging just now? Who are you pretending to be, feigning a retaliatory stance even while wounded?!

Before Yuan Tongtian could recover, five long, powerful fingers clamped onto its face, and with overwhelming force, it was slammed violently to the ground!

It felt as if its internal organs were being shattered.

This power was beyond the beginner realm—it was the very realm it had longed for.

How could a body-refining martial artist with the power of a Jade Fluid realm lower itself to launch a surprise attack?

Yuan Tongtian couldn’t comprehend it—then a fist came down, smashing half its eye socket.

Blood filled its nostrils; it gasped, mouth gaping, thick, sweet-tasting blood spilling uncontrollably.

The whoosh of fists echoed beside its ears, like whispering death envoys.

Far away.

Butcher Zhang swung another punch.

He and the skinny head monk shared the same master; they knew each other’s moves intimately, neither gaining advantage for now.

But this punch struck unexpectedly true, smashing hard into the monk’s nose.

The skinny head monk clutched his face, grimacing in pain; ignoring the blood seeping through his fingers, his eyes widened in terror as he stared far away.

“How old are you, still playing this trick? Trying to make me turn around? Today I’ll kill this disgrace to our sect!”

Butcher Zhang raised his fist, ready to strike again—then saw the bald, pockmarked head still staring fixedly behind him.

He gritted his teeth and turned.

Cold sweat broke out on his back.

Dozens of strong young men stood frozen, their long spears and bows hanging limply in their hands.

At the front, Shen Yi pressed down on the old monkey, striking coldly, his knuckles smeared with red and white matter, thick as paste, dripping steadily.

Each punch made the monkey demon’s legs tremble.

Until it stopped moving entirely.

He slowly rose, exhaling a long, hot breath, his dark eyes turning back.

At the instant his gaze swept over them, the constables and soldiers collapsed to their knees, too drained even to beg.

“How long has it been…”

Butcher Zhang swallowed hard—he hadn’t even warmed up, and it was already over?

Two beginner-level great demons, dead without a single sound.

He turned to look at the skinny head monk.

The monk had already scrambled twenty zhang away in an instant, rolling and crawling—no longer like a martial artist, but like a startled rabbit.

I wonder if anyone’s watching…

Got some business today, only one update—will make it up later. Just letting readers know.

Still too green as a new writer, but I’ll work harder to write better.

Writing for full attendance bonus—let’s go!

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(End of Chapter)