Yellow Skinned Taoist Master

Chapter 77: Everyone Gets a Share

Inside the main hall of the Pure Immortal Temple, a great clattering and clunking broke out.

Chen Huangpi tore down his master's portrait, rolled it up carelessly, and tossed it onto the floor.

"Easy, easy!!!"

The Fox Mountain God's hackles shot straight up. It scrambled to catch all three of Guanzhu's portraits and said in a trembling voice: "Where do I put them? Where do I put them?"

These were portraits of Guanzhu himself. Chen Huangpi might not care — but it absolutely couldn't just casually put them down somewhere.

The brass oil lamp said: "If there's nowhere else, just hold them. When Guanzhu wakes up, he might even praise you for your filial devotion."

"That doesn't feel right..."

The Fox Mountain God was nearly frantic: "I'm just a minor Mountain God — it would be over-reaching for me to do something like that. How about Huang Er, you hold them? You were made by Guanzhu himself — you'd be far more appropriate."

"I dare not."

The brass oil lamp said those three words with gleeful schadenfreude. It had lived in the Pure Immortal Temple for so many years — did it not know what it could and couldn't do?The Fox Mountain God begged: "Huang Er — please show me a way out of this. I'm genuinely frightened."

"Hmm? What are you calling me?"

"...Older Brother Huang Er..."

"Now that's more like it."

The brass oil lamp said with crafty cheerfulness: "There is a way out. Do you see the Daoist robe Chen Huangpi is wearing?"

"Should I make a Daoist robe too?"

The Fox Mountain God asked tentatively. It knew — Granny Tang had made this robe for Chen Huangpi. As the Mountain God, of course it had been paying attention. And Chen Huangpi hadn't kept it secret either.

The brass oil lamp snorted: "You fox — you're nowhere near as clever as your own priestess. She made a robe — and that's a gesture of the heart. If you copy her in such an obvious way, everyone will know exactly what you're up to. How about this — you become my hound. I'll look after you."

"No, no."

The Fox Mountain God shook its head frantically. It only wanted to be Chen Huangpi's hound, not the hound of Chen Huangpi's hound. There was a very clear hierarchy of closeness and distance here. And this brass oil lamp had too much cunning in it — if it really became its hound, who knew what the lamp would put it through.

The brass oil lamp erupted: "You won't do this, you won't do that — fine. Just stand there and wait to die."

"I..."

The Fox Mountain God was stuck with no way forward or back, and the bitterness in its heart doubled. It had no one to blame but itself. It had casually mentioned that Guanzhu kept moving around at night. And now Chen Huangpi's mind had somehow landed on the idea of nailing Guanzhu to a wall to stop him from moving. When Guanzhu woke up, he'd probably have the Fox Mountain God's hide.

And just at this moment, Chen Huangpi's voice rang out: "Huang Er — stop scaring the Fox Mountain God. It stayed here watching over master's body. It deserves credit for that, even if it didn't do anything particularly remarkable. You can't talk to it that way."

Saying that, Chen Huangpi hopped down from the offering table.

"And you too, Fox Mountain God."

Chen Huangpi said seriously: "Don't be afraid. I told Master he's not allowed to eat you. Master loves me most. Nothing will happen to you."

"Thank you, Chen Huangpi."

The Fox Mountain God was deeply moved, and desperately wanted to seize the opportunity to bow and prostrate itself on the spot. But it was holding Guanzhu's portraits — it didn't dare. Otherwise — wouldn't that be the master bowing to the disciple? That would completely overturn the proper hierarchy of the Pure Immortal Temple.

Chen Huangpi had no idea what the Fox Mountain God was thinking. He looked at his master's body — on the verge of growing a third head — and said to the brass oil lamp: "Huang Er — help me move Master's body up onto the offering table. It'll be easier to hammer the nails in that way."

At those words, the brass oil lamp's eyes went blank. "What? Me?"

"Yes, you. Nobody gets to be lazy today."

Hearing those words — the brass oil lamp felt this wasn't really 'nobody gets to be lazy.' It was more like 'nobody gets to live.'

The brass oil lamp said miserably: "I have such thin little arms — where would I get the strength? Right — A'Gui. A'Gui has strength. Call on it instead."

Suddenly — the Soul-Hooking Register emanated a wave of cold. The Life-reaping Ghost's head had barely poked through before it retreated back in.

"Contract-holder — Golden-Horn is exceptionally defiant. One day may not be enough. Give me a few more days — I will absolutely make it learn to keep its mouth shut."

With that, the Soul-Hooking Register went completely still — as if dead.

Now the brass oil lamp had no excuses left. Utterly deflated, it extended all sixteen arms and helped Chen Huangpi carry Guanzhu's body onto the offering table.

What followed was a raucous hammering and clattering.

As Chen Huangpi drove in the final nail, he gave his master's body a shake. His master's robe was now firmly nailed in place — naturally, he couldn't move.

"Huang Er — how would you evaluate my craftsmanship?"

"I dare not evaluate it."

"Fair enough."

Chen Huangpi wasn't bothered. He looked his handiwork up and down with satisfaction, and then said out of nowhere: "Actually — with Master standing on the offering table like this, he looks far more imposing than any of those previous deities."

Hearing that, both the brass oil lamp and the Fox Mountain God simultaneously looked up at the offering table.

The Pure Immortal Temple had originally been home to many deities — all of them standing on the offering table. They had all since been driven away. Now Guanzhu stood on the offering table, his Daoist robes pinned to the wall by nails — and the more you looked at it, the more an indescribable eeriness took hold. The brass oil lamp wracked its mind and could not find a single fitting word to describe it. All it could say was — somehow, in a twisted way, it was just like Chen Huangpi. Unsettling in exactly the same fashion.

"All right — no more talking."

Chen Huangpi clapped his hands together and said: "I used up all the power the Demon Tree returned to me. I've got to go water it more and get more back."

Tomorrow was the God-Burying Mound. Without enough power to spend freely — that wouldn't do. He'd have to put the Demon Tree through the wringer one more time.

Saying that, Chen Huangpi sat cross-legged. Inside his body, in the Kidney Temple, the faint sounds of the Demon Tree's agonized wailing began to rise.

……

At this very moment. At the boundary between the Hundred Thousand Mountains and Xu Province.

Since the Heaven and Earth Mutation, this area had served as a buffer zone. Though it was flat ground, it was completely overgrown with enormous ancient trees. Each tree was as thick around as five or six adults with arms outstretched together, and the shorter ones still rose close to a hundred meters. Dense branches and leaves blocked out the sun entirely.

One face of these trees was turned toward the Hundred Thousand Mountains. The other face was turned toward Xu Province. But strangely — the side facing Xu Province was yellowed, while the side facing the Hundred Thousand Mountains was lush and vibrantly green with life.

A pale-faced man dressed in a long black robe, with a small bronze seal hanging at his waist, was making his way through this dense forest.

His name was Song Jiu — he was Song Tiangang's personal manservant.

Song Jiu moved in a leisurely, unhurried way. His steps were slow and measured, but each one carried him nearly a hundred zhang forward.

"The young lady's life-token has shattered."

"Even if she brought it on herself — she was still a daughter of the Song family."

"I carry two orders on this mission: one to collect the body. One to repay the offense."

"Every person within the Pure Immortal Temple deserves to die."

Song Jiu muttered as he walked, as if speaking to someone.

And indeed — a voice like a great bell responded to him.

"I am the City God of Qing'an County. I have brought all eight hundred of my grass-head subordinates for this mission, and I am entirely at your service."

"Mm. When this is done, I will personally commend you to the Governor."

As they say — a minister's gate is a rank-seven post. Song Jiu might be Song Tiangang's manservant. But out in the world, which City God of the four counties under Xu Province's jurisdiction would dare look down on him? They all addressed him as 'sir.' Added to that — Song Jiu had come this time with a seal authority, and had been given the temporary title of Acting County Magistrate. Backed by human qi, of course he could put on airs in front of this Qing'an City God.

Song Jiu's pace was not fast. The Hundred Thousand Mountains was, in the end, a forbidden land swarming with evil spirits. He had brought one City God and eight hundred grass-head deities. While the force was impressive and fearless of ordinary evil spirits — if they made too much of a show of themselves, they might stir unrest among the evil entities. If they attracted Disaster-class entities, they'd be bogged down indefinitely. And if they ran into something Calamity-level — they'd have no choice but to retreat in shame.

"It's gone dark."

Song Jiu looked up to see the great sun sinking slowly behind the far western edge of the Hundred Thousand Mountains. The last long streaks of light vanished — and a red moon rose from the opposite direction. The entire Hundred Thousand Mountains sank into night. Looking out in every direction — nothing but deep black. Now and again rustling sounds broke the silence, as if something that ate people was hidden in the dark.

Song Jiu gave a cold snort, but showed no fear whatsoever. He sat cross-legged where he was. Above his head, the ghostly silhouette of a figure in cyan armor materialized and breathed out — a flame began burning on the ground before him. The flame was contained, unable to spread outward, lighting only a circle of ten meters in radius around them.

At the same moment — in the darkness, an unusual voice spoke.

"Uncle Yang — this Song Jiu has brought a County City God with him. They won't detect us, will they?"

"Rest easy. In the outside world, that City God would only need one look to see through us both. But this is the Hundred Thousand Mountains. It will simply think of us as evil spirits."

"That's true. Even I understand the concept of the lamp being darkest right under itself."

Wang Mingdao felt the cold from Uncle Yang's form around him, and was deeply reassured. He was the only son of Grand Tutor Wang Taiyu — the same Left Guard Attendant from before. To discover what exactly Song Tiangang was up to, Wang Mingdao had quietly hidden himself in the dense forests of the Hundred Thousand Mountains since the previous evening, keeping watch.

He hadn't expected Song Jiu to be the one who came. And he certainly hadn't expected a County City God in tow.

Fortunately, Uncle Yang had peculiar abilities. It was his father's closest friend — officially speaking, a mortal who had ascended to godhood. But in truth, it was an evil spirit that had taken the form of a deity. Evil spirits and humans were natural enemies — but Uncle Yang was different, strange in its own unique way. Wang Mingdao had never met an evil spirit like Uncle Yang before — one that could speak human language, understand human affairs, and treated him with all the warmth of an elder toward a nephew.

Uncle Yang had no physical body — its existence was like a shadow. When Wang Mingdao stood inside it, all traces of his presence were concealed — as if he had put on the skin of an evil spirit.

"Tomorrow Song Jiu will reach the Pure Immortal Temple. You and I cannot go near."

"I only need to see it from a distance. That's enough."

Wang Mingdao was clear-eyed about this. A place that had swallowed over a hundred deities one after another — was that somewhere he and Uncle Yang could simply walk into? Seeing it from a clear distance, understanding the situation — that was enough.

As they say — deep in the mountains, time moves strangely. Night comes fast, and leaves just as fast. In the blink of an eye, the second day arrived.

Song Jiu — who had been sitting cross-legged — snapped open his eyes, a sharp light gleaming in them.

"Move out. To the Pure Immortal Temple!"