Chapter 133: Ghostly Shadow, Lean Tiger

A perfectly fine living person, in the middle of a great night, went whoosh and vanished without a trace!

Sun Erzhuang was so frightened that cold sweat poured out of him.

The woods rustled incessantly, with the faint sounds of tiger roars and wolf howls mixed within.

Is there any point in living like this!

Sun Erzhuang was nearly crying; his voice trembling, like a woman wailing at a funeral, he shouted: "Hero? Big Brother? Are you still alive? If the tiger didn't carry you off, make a sound, don't leave me alone here in fear."

The moment the Fatty's words fell, a thunderclap exploded, shattering the clouds, followed by a flash of lightning slicing through the night sky, as cold raindrops, like abacus beads, began to fall.

As the rain soaked into his collar, Sun Erzhuang shivered all over and dared not wander outside anymore.

He obeyed the big man's words, carried his old mother's corpse on his back, quickened his steps, and returned to the dilapidated small temple to shelter from the rain.

Outside the temple, lightning flashed and thunder rolled; inside the incense hall, a sudden streak of lightning illuminated the solemn, wrathful-eyed statue on the offering table.

The Fatty Sun had never paid much attention to that statue before, but now, with the heavens providing the light, he looked up and discovered it was a statue of a mountain lord with a human body and a tiger's head!

Looking at that statue, Sun Erzhuang suddenly recalled something.

In his memory, there had indeed been a temple with flourishing incense here when he was a child, and the temple's name was Mountain Lord Temple!

However, later, because a tiger-eating-human incident occurred in Old Taishan, this Mountain Lord Temple was subsequently neglected by everyone.

Common people only worship useful gods; if a Mountain Lord does not seek blessings for the villagers, that is one thing, but how can it condone the tigers of Old Taishan harming people?

It was only because everyone held a sense of awe towards gods and ghosts; without these, this Mountain Lord Temple would probably have been flattened long ago.

However, even if it wasn't flattened, under the long-term lack of offerings and repairs, the temple had already approached a state of semi-abandonment; otherwise, it wouldn't have been used as a mortuary to store corpses.

Now that Sun Erzhuang recalled this matter, he connected it with the demon the big man had mentioned earlier.

His heart immediately felt a chill of fear.

Could there be a fierce tiger nearby this temple?

Sun Erzhuang, filled with dread, leaned close to his old mother, looking at the wound on her neck where the tiger had bitten it through; inevitably, his gaze fell upon his old mother's lifeless face again.

Strange to say, looking at his own mother's wound, the tiger should have attacked from the front, yet the old woman's face showed little fear; instead, her brows were tightly furrowed, her expression filled with sorrow, as if deeply heartbroken.

Sun Erzhuang sat close beside his old mother, and gradually, his fear subsided.

As long as a person's heart is open and straightforward, their body will be strong.

It is no wonder people say the Fatty has a broad heart and a fat body; in just this short while, Sun Erzhuang had already drifted off into a doze.

However, since he was still outside, although he had fallen asleep, he did not sleep very deeply.

About half a cup of tea's time later, while the Fatty was half-asleep and half-awake, a sound of a donkey braying suddenly came from the dilapidated small temple outside the incense hall.

That donkey's braying was so miserable, as if it possessed human understanding, yet was an helpless donkey being sent to the slaughterhouse.

"If it's coming back, let it come back; what's the point of making such a fuss!" Sun Erzhuang heard the commotion outside but didn't take it seriously.

The rain outside was so heavy; this donkey wasn't afraid of getting wet, but if he went out, soaked by the rain and blown by the wind, he would surely fall ill!

Muttering to himself, the Fatty turned over and started snoring again.

You say his heart is so broad; no wonder he grew so sturdy.

Seeing that the braying outside couldn't wake the sleeping person, the donkey outside simply ran into the incense hall and continued to bray loudly.

Sun Erzhuang felt something was wrong; he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and took a careful look.

Where was even a shadow of a donkey in the incense hall!

"Did I just dream that?"

Sun Erzhuang, suspicious and fearful, lay back down on the straw mat; this time, as soon as his snoring started, the sound of a donkey braying echoed again inside the incense hall.

The moment he woke up, it was gone!

"This is truly uncanny!"

This time, Sun Erzhuang truly could not fall asleep.

The thunder outside the temple continued; borrowing the occasional flash of pale lightning, he observed the incense hall.

On the offering table, the Mountain Lord's eyes were wide as copper bells, in a posture of looking down.

On the left side, a paint-peeled coffin covered in dust and spiderwebs lay quietly with its lid half-open.

Not far from the dilapidated coffin, on the roof beam, hung a familiar rope.

Sun Erzhuang found that rope familiar.

Wasn't this the noose that hung on the crooked-necked tree in the temple!

How did it get inside the incense hall in the blink of an eye?

Sun Erzhuang looked closely and discovered that there was a small iron buckle on that rope.

The Fatty opened his eyes wide, gathered his courage, and took two steps forward.

"This buckle..."

The Fatty Sun approached closely and was startled.

No wonder, when he saw the rope hanging on the crooked-necked tree in the courtyard, he felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity; wasn't this the rope he used to tie his donkey!

Looking again at the circular loop of the rope, thick bloodstains were now seeping out from it.

Sun Erzhuang cried out in shock and stepped back repeatedly, his feet thudding.

Combining the donkey's braying that appeared in his dream, recalling the donkey he raised himself, and looking at this eerie rope before him.

The outline of the event vaguely floated up in Sun Erzhuang's mind.

Could it be that this donkey, finding him too fat and unwilling to be constantly driven by him, decided to hang himself out of despair?

Who knows what fills this big Fatty's brain; all day long he just makes baseless speculations.

Looking at the blood-stained rope, Sun Erzhuang felt sorrow in his heart; this donkey was raised by him and his old mother together, working tirelessly day after day, pulling whatever heavy loads, doing whatever work.

He had lost his father since childhood; apart from his own old mother, only this donkey was his kin.

While thinking of past memories, the Fatty's tears fell.

"Donkey, I'm sorry to you—I couldn't take care of my mother, and now I can't even take care of you."

The rope on the beam swayed gently, each drop of filthy blood falling like tears, pata-pata onto the ground.

The Fatty was still grieving when suddenly, a creaking sound came from outside the incense hall's door.

Wind laden with gloom and chaotic rain rushed in; Sun Erzhuang turned to see a crack, a foot wide, opened in the broken door.

Sun Erzhuang sniffled, a flicker of suspicion crossing his mind.

He clearly remembered bolting the door—so why were the door bar and the prop stick gone?

As Sun Erzhuang puzzled over this, a pale human hand suddenly reached through the door crack.

"Who?!"

Even as Sun Erzhuang spoke, the figure outside the door stepped in.

Dressed in gray robes with white hair, hunched over, the figure seemed to be an old woman.

Why "seemed"? Because the figure walked in backward—Sun Erzhuang couldn't see its face.

Yet that silhouette was strangely familiar.

"Erzhuang, the demon's coming soon—run out the back of the temple, or it'll be too late!"

Hearing that familiar voice, Sun Erzhuang froze.

He squinted his tiny eyes, voice trembling: "Mother—is that you?"

The old woman at the door sighed softly, her back still turned to him.

With a flash of lightning, the old woman's figure vanished from the incense hall!

Sun Erzhuang felt both panic and dread—he couldn't understand why.

The big man told him to hide in the temple, then vanished with a whoosh.

The donkey cried out in his dream, and when he opened his eyes, the donkey was gone.

Now a figure with the same voice and form as his mother appeared at the door, warned him to flee, then vanished into thin air.

What's going on? Even the silver that keeps disappearing from my pocket has to have a reason, doesn't it?

Sun Erzhuang turned to look at Guan Huapo's corpse—but the moment he did—

There! The door bar and the prop stick lay right beside his mother's hands!

Sun Erzhuang cried out "Ah!" then slapped his own forehead—suddenly, he understood.

His mother was warning him—telling him to flee while he still could!

Now he recalled: the donkey's rope that had run from the courtyard into the incense hall, braying wildly—must have been trying to warn him too, to leave this place.

"There really must be a demon coming!"

Sun Erzhuang knew he couldn't stay—he rewrapped his mother's body in straw matting and placed it inside the old coffin beside him. Only after finishing did he rush to the door, ready to dash out into the rain!

Creak—the door swung open halfway. Sun Erzhuang was about to flee, but before he could leap into the rain, he saw someone standing outside!

The figure wore a blue scholar's robe and white shirt, holding a compass—and crucially, his body was completely dry, not a drop of rain on him!

Sun Erzhuang gasped in shock, his heart leaping to his throat.

He thought he'd been too slow—he'd run right into the demon!

In the dark, Sun Erzhuang couldn't make out the stranger's face. He cried out, "Ah!" and swung his fist straight at the demon's face!

"."

Outside the door, Xu Qing had just arrived and hadn't even stepped inside when he saw his client swing a fist at him like he'd seen a ghost.

What the hell is this?

Xu Qing caught Sun Erzhuang's fist in one motion, stepped forward two paces, and twisted the man's arm behind his back.

Thus, Xu Qing dragged the screaming, porky man into the hall, the fat man howling like a slaughtered pig.

The fat man screamed not from pain, but from sheer terror.

Xu Qing released him, snapped his fingers, and the temple's candles burst into flame.

After shouting for a while with no response and no demon eating him, the Fatty's voice faded. When the light flared, he turned his head—and finally saw the demon's face.

"You're the funeral master?"

Xu Qing replied irritably: "If not me, then a ghost?"

Sun Erzhuang eyed him warily, every word and gesture radiating distrust.

"Who knows? You came from outside—how come you're not even wet?" Sun Erzhuang stepped back subtly, voice rising a notch, "Could you be the demon?"

"Dry clothes make you a demon? What kind of logic is that? And have you ever actually seen a demon before?"

"No, I haven't."

Xu Qing chuckled: "Then there you go. There are no demons in this world. Don't be afraid—once the rain stops and dawn comes, I'll handle your mother's funeral."

Seeing Xu Qing's calm, rational behavior, Sun Erzhuang's suspicion began to fade.

But remembering his mother's warning, he grew tense again: "This place isn't safe—we should leave at once!"

"Leave? Where to?" Xu Qing, as if drawn by corpse-sense, walked straight toward the old coffin inside the incense hall.

"My mother appeared in my dream—she said a demon's coming to the temple! We've got to run!"

Xu Qing glanced at Sun Erzhuang in surprise, then said: "Since I'm the funeral master you hired, I must do my duty. Your mother's coffin is here in this temple—so this temple is her mourning hall. How could I leave her unattended during her vigil?"

"A vigil without watchers? Unthinkable. Who knows if rats or wild beasts might damage the corpse? If that happens, wouldn't I be failing as a master?"

Sun Erzhuang cried out: "Aren't you afraid the demon will come?"

Xu Qing raised an eyebrow, about to reply—then suddenly turned his head toward the back of Sun Erzhuang.

"The demon you mentioned—isn't it the thing behind you?"

"."

The moment Xu Qing spoke, the temple's candles snuffed out at once, leaving only wisps of white smoke drifting.

The big fat man gulped down saliva, his face twisting into a smile that looked ready to cry.

"Mr. Xu, don't scare me; I'm a coward by nature."

"I'm not scaring you. If you don't believe me, turn around and look."

Sun Erzhuang stiffly turned his head; with the candlelight gone, the entire hall was pitch black.

Wind and rain battered the broken windows and doors outside, making a clatter-clatter, creak-creak sound.

Sun Erzhuang looked behind him and saw only a flash of lightning outside the hall, illuminating the windows of the Incense Hall.

On the window in front of him, which resembled a shadow-puppet screen, a tall, thin black silhouette now appeared.

Though Sun Erzhuang was terrified, the fat man had a kind heart; seeing that the shadow on the window seemed human and not a demon, he suppressed his fear and spoke to the figure.

"Brother, the rain is heavy outside; why not come in to take shelter?"

"."

The person outside the window fell silent for a moment, but when the next flash of lightning lit up the Incense Hall, the window in front was empty, with no figure in sight.

Only Xu Qing felt a slight stir in his spirit, turning his gaze toward the hall door.

A strange wind carrying a stench and mist surged forward, and in an instant, the two broken hall doors were blown open by the foul wind.

Outside the door, a tall, thin man stood in the rain curtain with his shoulders hunched, letting the wind and rain beat against him.

Sun Erzhuang, confused, stepped forward to ask a question, but Xu Qing reached out and stopped him.

The tall, thin man in front seemed injured, emitting a strong smell of blood; Xu Qing opened his Yin Eyes and saw a gaunt tiger figure floating behind the man, its ears pinned back, head hanging low, and foul drool dripping from its mouth.

Sensing Xu Qing's unmasked, aggressive gaze, the tall, thin man seemed triggered by something; he let out a low roar and, without a second word, charged straight at Xu Qing.

Covering a distance of less than ten steps, the tall, thin man first ran like a normal human for two steps, then, like an uncivilized savage, dropped to all fours to aid his sprint.

When he reached a distance of five steps, the man, originally human-shaped, leaped into the air and, in that suspended moment, transformed into a thin tiger waving sharp claws, opening its foul maw to pounce on Xu Qing.

Xu Qing narrowed his eyes as the foul wind carried by the thin tiger made his clothes rustle loudly.

Facing the Hukou mere inches away, Xu Qing showed no panic; he simply bent his knees slightly, assuming the horse stance commonly used by martial artists.

Immediately followed by a standard straight thrusting punch!

Xu Qing, who had already mastered the Tiger Seal Dragon Elephant Fist Art, could long ago blend its essence into any ordinary punch.

At this moment, a dragon and tiger phantom shadow appeared behind Xu Qing, and on his thrusting fist, a fierce tiger head opened its maw to meet the thin tiger!

It is said that one mountain cannot hold two tigers, and it is also said that when two tigers fight, one must be injured.

Now that the Tiger Fist met a real vicious tiger, there must be a victor and a vanquished.

Finally, the two tigers collided, causing the entire Incense Hall to tremble.

Like the sound of an exploding thunderclap echoing through the small temple, the dust that had accumulated for ages in the ruined temple instantly scattered.

Sun Erzhuang was affected by the shockwave; the mix of fist wind, demon wind, and dust made it impossible for him to keep his eyes open.

By the time he opened his eyes, Xu Qing some distance away had already retracted his fist and stood upright.

And opposite Xu Qing, a large hole now appeared in the wall of the Incense Hall.

(End of this chapter)