Chapter 19: A Group of Two-Tael Rewards

Two consecutive howls of gibbons echoed over the mountains and rivers.

So the clear, ringing gibbon cries he’d heard earlier were made by these fierce, repulsive creatures?

Lin Jue had no time to ponder this, for the largest and strongest monkey was already sprinting toward him, and the others, seeing this, immediately dropped their books and followed.

What do these things want?

Lin Jue widened his eyes but refused to retreat, gripping his dagger tightly and taking a deep breath.

“Hss…”

Though it was midsummer, the scorching air drawn into his mouth turned cool and crisp, then stirred the latent fire within his body, instantly blazing hot.

His mouth bulged, and with a whoosh, he exhaled!

“Boom…”

A burst of flame shot forward!

“Ahh!”

The monkeys shrieked in alarm, their cries piercing and shrill.

At the same time, all the monkeys halted their advance and retreated several paces, watching Lin Jue warily.

Both sides stood in temporary stalemate, sizing each other up.

Lin Jue knew these monkeys were no ordinary beasts—their height was nearly equal to his own, and they were surely stronger than ordinary people.

Lin Jue could only use fire to temporarily drive them back, hoping they feared flame like ordinary animals.

It seemed his assumption was correct.

These monkeys indeed dared not advance further.

Some even retreated to resume rummaging through Lin Jue’s books.

But Lin Jue soon realized these monkeys, though afraid of fire, were extremely clever—

They could throw stones at people!

“Crack…”

Fortunately, the distance between them held firm; Lin Jue, fully alert, dodged by retreating and moving nimbly, avoiding every stone.

Only after being pushed back a considerable distance, far from his books, did the monkeys cease driving him away, though they still all stared at him.

Lin Jue clenched his teeth in anger but had no immediate plan; he could only watch as the monkeys ate his rations, rifled through his books, and watched him with hostile eyes.

His small knife tightened in his grip.

At that moment, the sound of hooves came from behind.

The monkeys ahead lifted their heads, their gaze passing over Lin Jue to look behind him.

“Tat-tat-tat…”

The hooves rapidly approached.

As Lin Jue hesitated whether to turn and look—wondering if turning would invite sudden attack—the sound of a faint whistling pierced the air.

“Shu!”

Then a wet thud.

One monkey ahead was struck by an arrow and collapsed backward.

The troop erupted in panic, chaos breaking out.

“Shu!”

Another arrow flew—but missed.

At the same time, the hooves reached Lin Jue’s back and came to a sharp halt.

Lin Jue no longer feared the monkeys might strike while he turned; he spun around at once and saw a man in plain clothes, young and riding a tall steed, a long spear wrapped in cloth slung across his saddle, a long sword at his waist, and a bow in hand.

One man looked up, the other looked down.

“What a bold scholar, daring to walk this path alone—and even stand your ground against these monstrous monkeys!”

“What kind of monkeys are these? How did they grow so large?”

“You don’t know?”

“I didn’t…”

“No wonder you’re so fearless!” the man said. “Didn’t you see everyone else stopping in the village behind, traveling in groups?”

“I didn’t see anyone…”

“You truly didn’t know?”

The man on horseback, surprised, explained: “These monsters originally lived deep in the mountains. Last year, they began appearing near the mountain path, committing atrocities—attacking lone men, tearing and beating them, stealing rations and livestock. If a group carries a woman, they seize her to torment and play with. Only martial experts or well-armed groups dare pass here.”

As he spoke, the monstrous monkeys gathered like humans, checking their wounded and growling furiously.

Yet they were clever—they did not advance, instead continuing to stare behind the two men.

Their roars came frequently, as if communicating.

Lin Jue couldn’t help turning to look again.

A group of twenty or thirty men approached—mostly travelers, leading mules, horses, and donkeys.

The monstrous monkeys feared them.

“You’re lucky today—you happened upon me,” said the man on horseback. “Wait for the others to arrive, then travel with them.”

“Them? What about you?”

“Me? Hah!”

The man burst into laughter, full of martial spirit: “The county magistrate of Danxun has posted a bounty—two taels of silver for each monkey head. I’m short on travel funds, so I’m here to collect. These monkeys are fierce and vengeful, but cunning and cautious. With your numbers, they’ll flee. Once you’re gone, they’ll bring me their heads.”

“You’re alone?”

Lin Jue stared at him, stunned.

These towering monsters were no ordinary foe—even with bow and blade. Yet in Shu Village, Lin Jue often heard village elders recount tales of martial heroes—men of fierce spirit and great skill, who could cleave ghosts with swords and slay demons with blades.

Could this man be one?

“Go retrieve your belongings!”

The man gave no answer, merely spurred his horse forward.

The twenty-odd travelers behind now arrived, many carrying knives and clubs; seeing the monkeys, they grew nervous, murmuring among themselves, yet followed the man’s horse.

With numbers on their side, even without intent, their presence was intimidating.

So as the group advanced, the monkey troop retreated step by step, until they vanished from the road, watching from distant trees.

Lin Jue hurried to his books.

He quickly gathered his things, checking for damage.

Nearby, travelers spoke:

“Great hero, you can’t handle these monsters alone! Besides their size, their leader can summon mist and fog to frighten horses! County constables have tried several times and failed. Don’t risk your life for this bounty—wait until next time and bring friends!”

“What magic do these monkeys have? Can mist and fog stop blades and spears?” The man on horseback paid no heed, even declared: “Have none of you heard the story of the great general of the former dynasty who slew night demons at midnight?”

That was a tale from before the general became famous.

Legend says his concubine died, her body laid in the funeral hall. At midnight, a night demon came to devour her. The general, then unknown, felt fear—but could not bear to see his beloved’s corpse devoured. He drew his sword anyway, and his mere aura drove the demon back; one slower demon was slashed by his blade.

The crowd said no more, and departed together.

Lin Jue continued sorting his belongings.

His rations were entirely gone; the canopy atop his book chest was torn, his water flask crushed, and one book, tossed about by the monkeys, had several pages ruined.

The rations didn’t matter—he could buy more, even endure hunger. But the rest were irreplaceable.

The book chest was a gift from Old Master Wang of Heng Village. Whether he had much connection with Old Master Wang, it was a gift—its sentiment far outweighed the value of buying a new one. The other books, though carried mainly to conceal the ancient text, were not his own purchases; each was given to him by villagers who pitied his poverty and admired his diligence.

The water flask was made by his uncle himself, cutting bamboo from the mountains.

These things! How utterly vile!

Lin Jue seethed, teeth clenched.

How could he swallow this anger so easily?

A man who could face demons and terrify them into retreat, who could calmly converse with spectral soldiers—how could he fear a few larger beasts? If he fled now before these animals, how would he face spirits and monsters on his quest for immortality? How would he preserve his resolve?

Lin Jue calmly packed his books, raised his head, glanced aside—some merchants had already moved ahead, but others paused, waiting for him to finish.

Yet his gaze fixed on the weapon in a burly man’s hand.

“Sir! Borrow me a knife!”

“Huh?”

“I shall emulate the great general of the former dynasty!”

“You…”

A heavy cleaver flew through the air and landed at his feet.

“How do I return it?”

“At the tea shop by the North City Gate in Danxun.”

“Thank you, brother!”

Lin Jue picked up the cleaver, turned, and gritted his teeth at the martial man beside him: “I’ll lend you a hand—cut off the monkey heads, the bounty’s all yours!”

“What a bold scholar!”

The man grinned, eyes gleaming:

“My name is Luo Seng!”

“Lin Jue.”

“This place is no good—let’s move to a better spot.”

"Do as you like!"

After saying those two sentences, he walked off into the distance.

Those strange monkeys still watched them from the trees, their eyes filled with anger and hatred; seeing them leave, they all followed closely behind.

Luo Seng chose a spot where a river met a stream, deliberately stepping into the angle, and as the monkey pack chased after them, they were trapped within the bend. Both sides kept glancing back now and then at the traveling merchants slowly moving away.

Finally, the strange monkeys ahead grew restless.

A chorus of whooping and roaring erupted.

The strange monkeys could no longer hold back.

The Luo martial artist remained calm, nocking an arrow and drawing his bow.

"Shu!"

One arrow shot forth, piercing the monkey pack.

"Duo!"

A dull thud echoed—the arrow struck the trunk of a tree behind them.

This act enraged the monkey pack completely.

"Wu wu! A!"

The strongest leader among the monkeys turned to look at the arrow stuck in the tree trunk, immediately stood up, spread his arms in a threat, shook the branches beside him as if summoning his subordinates, and instantly drew a chorus of responses.

Roars along the riverbank rang out, carrying far into the distance.

Then the forest and underbrush shook violently.

The entire monkey pack charged forward.

Lin Jue had never experienced such a brutal fight; his back was already arched, his full attention fixed on the advancing monkeys, his grip tight on the wooden shaft of his broadsword.

The Luo martial artist beside him remained composed, lowering his hand to first grip the long spear on his horse, pausing briefly before letting go, then drawing his saber, unhurried, dismounting, and walking deliberately toward the monkey pack.

One side scrambled and sprinted forward; the other moved with steady, deliberate steps.

In an instant, the two sides met.

Lin Jue could hear the whistle of the blade slicing through air; the sun blazed overhead, and bright reflections from the long saber flashed across the dark forest or swept past his eyes—but he never looked away, never blinked once. His vision held only the two advancing monkeys.

Both monkeys stood as tall as a man, with long arms, one in front, one behind, radiating fierce aggression.

Lin Jue did not dare slacken for a moment.

Though the broadsword was longer than the long saber and classified as a polearm, its cutting range at the blade’s tip was extremely limited—in truth, it was merely a chopping knife attached to a long pole; he had to control the distance.

Otherwise, the broadsword became nothing but a stick.

Yet tension did not hinder his thinking.

In an instant, the front monkey reached his face—but it slowed slightly, watching his broadsword warily, testing its approach with cautious swipes.

The monkey behind, however, was even more aggressive.

Lin Jue shifted his thought instantly and swung the broadsword with both hands.

He felt the chopping blade at the tip was heavy, the shaft light; swinging it naturally generated greater momentum and heavier force.

"Wu!!"

The blade cut through air, leaving a streak of bright light.

The front monkey, as expected, had prepared—it rolled aside swiftly, while the one behind accelerated, baring its fangs, roaring as it lunged at Lin Jue, clutching a sharp stone in its hand.

The broadsword was long and its head heavy; when swung, it carried great force—but if it missed, bringing it back required far more effort and distance. Perhaps because they had fought humans often, these creatures were smarter than Lin Jue expected, better at understanding humans.

Yet they did not know Lin Jue had prepared too.

Though the broadsword had swung forward, Lin Jue’s face still faced that direction; his belly was full of breath, his cheeks puffed out.

"Pu hong..."

A gush of fire erupted, a burst of flame exploding—like a fairground trick, yet instantly halting the monkeys’ advance.

The flames also obscured both sides’ vision.

But Lin Jue didn’t care—he was filled with rage, gripped the broadsword tightly, and swung with all his strength.

"Wu!!"

The shaft whistled, the blade flashed cold light; the chopping blade swept through the flames, its edge trailing fire.

"Pu!"

Blood spurted; the monkey’s head tumbled sideways.