Chapter 71: Chapter Sixty-Four: [Mountain Demon]

January 7th. The eighth day of the twelfth lunar month. Commonly known as Laba.

Legend says that during the founding dynasty, Emperor Zhu, when he was in dire straits and starving, gathered discarded grains and rotten beans, boiled them into porridge, and thus gave rise to the tradition of Laba porridge.

Jin Ling had once been the capital established by that Emperor Zhu, so the custom of Laba porridge took deep root here.

As winter deepened, the cold grew sharper; though Jin Ling’s geography had yet to bring snow, the weather visibly turned colder day by day.

As dusk fell, a strong north wind howled, and the forest beneath Zijin Mountain in the eastern part of the city echoed with even fiercer gusts.

A damp mist rose slowly from the mountain’s belly, carried by the cold wind, drifting gently over the ridges.

·

Chen Yan boiled a pot of Laba porridge that evening, just to mark the occasion.

Only Gu Qingyi and he lived in the house—seemingly quiet.

Chen Yan didn’t mind—it was a loneliness he’d grown used to since childhood. When Old Grandma was alive, he could stay by her side; during festivals, the two of them clung to each other as family.

After Old Grandma passed, Chen Yan sometimes felt the emptiness acutely.

Now, though…

He glanced at Gu Xiaoniang sitting at the dining table, and a faint smile touched his eyes.

Sort of… a strange kind of family, then.

Gu Qingyi ladled herself a bowl of Laba porridge, took a sip, and frowned.

“Not sweet.”

Chen Yan smiled, got up, went to the kitchen, brought back the sugar jar, and placed it before Gu Qingyi: “Add sugar if you want it sweet.”

Gu Xiaoniang’s eyes lit up, and without hesitation, she added three spoonfuls of sugar.

“If you eat like this, you won’t freeze to death in winter—you’ll get diabetes.” Chen Yan sighed.

“A Tianren cultivator is immune to all diseases.” Gu Qingyi shook her head.

“Then how long does a Tianren live?”

“Long enough to see your bones turn to ash.”

“In our world, people are cremated—turn to ash in an instant.”

“Then I’ll live until your grandson turns to ash,” Gu Xiaoniang replied.

Can we even have a normal conversation anymore… Chen Yan shook his head.

Yet… somehow, it made him feel closer.

When Old Grandma was alive, the two of them often joked wildly like this.

Old Grandma was never serious either.

Now, bantering with Gu Qingyi like this gave Chen Yan a familiar warmth.

“The bridal shop said the dress will take about two weeks to finish—they’ll try to deliver it before the Spring Festival.”

“Mm.” Gu Qingyi kept her head down, sipping porridge, hiding her flushed face.

After she’d punched Chen Yan a few times… she’d finally given the measurements. But she didn’t hand them to him—she used his phone to tell the tailor directly.

What embarrassed Gu Xiaoniang wasn’t the numbers—it was… following the tailor’s instructions, she’d locked herself in her room and measured her own body with a tape measure… the whole process made her blush just remembering it.

“I checked the almanac—weddings for the dead must be held on yin days, preferably Xiong days. There aren’t any soon. The earliest possible date is next month.” Chen Yan idly picked at the side dishes with his chopsticks. “I’ve prepared plenty of talisman scripts, but drawing them takes time…”

“Mm.” Gu Qingyi replied with equal indifference.

“You seem… out of sorts?” Chen Yan glanced at Gu Xiaoniang.

Gu Qingyi sighed softly. “I’m fine. Don’t overthink it.”

Though this is what I’ve always wanted… which girl would ever look forward to her own funeral wedding?

Gu Qingyi suppressed the thought, asking casually: “Will you return to your hometown for the Spring Festival?”

“Yes, I will.” Chen Yan nodded. “There are obligations to fulfill, and…”

Before he finished, Gu Qingyi suddenly tensed, waving her hand: “Don’t speak!”

The casual ease vanished from her face. In an instant, she leapt from her chair and dashed out the door.

Chen Yan froze, confused, but followed immediately, running into the yard.

In the yard, Gu Qingyi squinted toward the east, then leapt onto the villa’s roof.

Chen Yan opened his mouth to speak—when Gu Qingyi waved from the rooftop: “Come up.”

Huh?

Chen Yan took a breath, activated the [Imperative: Dun Zi Jue], launched himself upward, and landed beside Gu Qingyi on the roof.

Gu Qingyi stared eastward, her tone certain: “There’s malevolent energy.”

Chen Yan’s expression turned serious. He formed a hand seal, channeled his Qi, and focused his vision.

He activated his Heaven’s Eye Qi-Seeing Technique to its fullest, gazing eastward…

Under the technique, a faint, blood-red cloud, like a smear of crimson, slowly coalesced in the distant sky.

“Go see,” Gu Qingyi turned to Chen Yan.

“Huh?”

Before he could react, a soft, slippery hand seized his.

“Holy shit!!!”

Chen Yan screamed as his body shot violently into the air!

In a blink, the villa was behind him!

Another blink—the neighborhood vanished.

Wind howled past his ears; the world spun wildly!

·

Beneath Zijin Mountain.

The forest path was empty. At this hour, in this weather, no tourists remained.

Besides, this path wasn’t in the scenic zone—it lay closer to the mountain’s interior.

A figure rode a bicycle hastily out of the path, a large, muscular husky sprinting beside him.

The rider was a woman, a sketchpad strapped to her back—likely an artist.

She’d been sketching in the woods all afternoon, lost in inspiration, and stayed later than planned.

As an artist, she was used to hiking into valleys and mountains to paint.

Now, she felt no fear—Jin Ling was a major city, and even this forest path was near the scenic area.

In this age, no real wilderness existed near big cities.

Besides, Jin Ling’s public safety ranked among the nation’s best.

And the large husky beside her gave her extra confidence.

She pedaled hard, simply eager to get home for dinner—she’d forgotten to eat while absorbed in her work, and now her stomach growled.

Around a bend, she suddenly saw a figure crouched beside the road, under the trees on the left.

Her heart leapt!

Instinctively, she squeezed the brakes, slowing down.

As she neared, she saw it was a person squatting beneath a tree—clothing indistinct in the dark, but visibly dirty.

And from the back, it looked like an old woman?

Her shoulders trembled slightly—as if she were crying?

The artist had a kind heart. She slowed further, glanced at the husky panting beside her, gathered courage, and stopped to walk over.

“Old Grandma?”

The figure trembled slightly.

“Old Grandma?” The artist stopped three or four steps away, tentatively: “Are you… alright? Do you need help?”

The figure still trembled, and faintly, a broken voice came:

“I… so hungry… so hungry…”

Hungry?

The artist frowned: “Are you lost? Or…”

At that moment, the figure slowly turned its head.

Beneath tangled hair was a grotesque face—especially its eyes, blazing crimson as blood.

“So hungry… so want to eat meat…”

·

Two figures landed in a gust of wind.

“This is the place. It must be nearby,” Gu Qingyi said cautiously. “I’m not skilled in tracking spells, but my senses are right. Chen Yan, use your Qi-Seeing Technique… hmm?”

She turned—and the twenty-two-year-old commoner was clinging to a roadside tree, vomiting violently.

“Chen Yan?”

“Wait… just… a sec! I… puke!” Chen Yan didn’t turn, waving her off.

Gu Qingyi frowned. “Weak.”

Chen Yan rolled his eyes—twenty kilometers in under five minutes, flying hugging the ground!

And who’s weak here, anyway?

Last time, that kid carried me over a hundred kilometers, clear out of Jin Ling—I didn’t get this dizzy.

Clearly, your technique is terrible!

“You dragged me flying without even telling me first,” Chen Yan gasped.

“I… I’ve already slowed down as much as I could for you,” Gu Qingyi said timidly, feeling guilty.

Chen Yan wiped his mouth hard, then glanced disdainfully at his stained knuckles, instinctively glancing toward Lady Dowager.

Gu Qingyi stepped back, her tone serious: “If you dare wipe your mouth on my clothes, I’ll kill you.”

Chen Yan snorted and exhaled: “...So what exactly are we here to see? What is this malevolent aura?”

“I sensed a trace of malice,” Gu Qingyi said slowly. “It must be some awakened evil cultivator.”

“Evil cultivator?”

“Yes—mountain goblin, mountain ogre, mountain imp, or some demonic beast—you don’t think all demonic cultivators are as dim-witted as Gui Geng, do you?”

Well, that touched on his knowledge blind spot.

The booklet taught spells, not encyclopedic knowledge. Gu Qingyi’s terms meant little to Chen Yan.

“So what do we do now?”

“Find it and exterminate it. Something like this, once awakened, will harm the Holy Spirits. And… slaying such beings lets you extract their malevolent spiritual energy, turning it into pure Yin Sha—perfect for alchemy, talismans, or potion-making.”

Gu Qingyi glanced at Chen Yan: “You’ll need it. To ascend from Guiyuan to Dengtai, you must break through the Heart Trial—you can’t skip Yin Sha trials.”

Chen Yan thought for a moment: “Is it that dangerous?”

“I could crush it with one punch.”

Then it’s fine!

Chen Yan relaxed inwardly.

Then he used the Qi-Viewing Technique to examine carefully, identifying the direction where the crimson blood-sha was thickest.

Gu Qingyi nodded, glancing at Chen Yan: “I’ll go in. You wait here.”

“Aren’t I coming?” Chen Yan asked. “If you don’t need me to fight, why bring me along?”

“Some evil cultivators have innate abilities—expert at hiding and fleeing. I go in to kill it; if it runs, you block its escape.” Gu Qingyi paused. “You’re Guiyuan. This level of sha energy? You should be able to handle it. But…”

She stepped beside him, reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a blank, pristine talisman paper.

Gu Qingyi focused, raised her finger, and a streak of golden light touched the paper—immediately forming a strange, miniature humanoid rune.

“Hold this. If you can’t handle it, burn the talisman—I’ll arrive instantly.”

To be honest, Chen Yan was a little nervous.

After all, though he’d begun cultivation, he was still just an ordinary twenty-two-year-old who’d lived his whole life in the mortal world.

He’d never fought or killed anyone—let alone faced an [evil cultivator].

The only time he’d ever seen blood was back in the village, helping Old Grandma kill a chicken.

But in front of Miss Gu, he refused to look cowardly. He clenched his teeth silently and said slowly: “Fine. I’ll guard the perimeter.”

Miss Gu gave him a half-smile: “Once you walk the cultivation path, you’ll face this sooner or later. For your first enemy, with me watching over you? That’s already a rare privilege.”

With that, she waved her hand, leapt into the air, and vanished into the forest.

·