Junior Sister is skilled in subduing demons.

Chapter 202 The Trail of Old Monkey

The afterglow of the sacred mountain gradually faded behind them, and Shen Anzhi's hand holding the demon-slaying sword was still trembling slightly.

The sword gleamed with a golden-red light in the setting sun, and the runes that had once bound it now lay obediently on the blade.

Ge Wensong followed beside An Zhi. The wound on his shoulder had just been treated by An Zhi with the spiritual medicine from the Demon Refining Gourd. Although his face was still pale, his eyes were burning with excitement.

“Sister Anzhi, haven’t you noticed?” Ge Wensong suddenly stopped and pointed to the lines on her arm: “The runes of the Demon-Slaying Sword are flowing along your bloodline.”

Shen Anzhi looked down and saw several pale golden lines extending from the sword hilt to her wrist, intertwined with the veins that appeared when she activated her spiritual power.

"It seems it has truly recognized its master." The two looked at each other and smiled, as if their previous serious injuries and exhaustion had been washed away by their laughter.

Ge Wensong suddenly leaned closer and brushed the snowflakes from Anzhi's hair, his fingertips inadvertently brushing against her earlobe: "Now that you have both the Demon-Slaying Sword and the Demon-Refining Gourd, you're practically a tiger with wings. Once we've dealt with the Black Python and the God-Slayer, we'll go to Mount Emei and bring that little Tuantuan back."

When Tuantuan was mentioned, Anzhi's lips curved into an even wider smile, but a soft concern flickered in his eyes: "If it dares to disobey, I'll use the Demon Refining Gourd to subdue it." Although his words were harsh, the doting tone was undeniable.

As the two talked, the mountain path beneath their feet seemed to become flat. What would normally take half a day was completed before they could see the smoke rising from the chimneys of Yading Village even before the sun sank into the valley.

Just as they stepped into the barley field at the village entrance, a dark figure suddenly darted out from behind the prayer flags, moving so fast that only a blur remained.

Shen Anzhi's demon-slaying sword was instantly drawn, its golden light piercing the twilight: "What is that!"

"Squeak—" The sharp cry carried a familiar cunning. The dark figure suddenly stopped and turned around; it was none other than the monkey who had kidnapped Tuan Tuan.

Its lameness seemed to have improved somewhat, but it had a piece missing from the tip of its ear, stained with undried blood, and it was clutching a bulging cloth bag in its arms, the contents of which were unknown.

"It's you!" Shen Anzhi's anger flared up.

Previously on Mount Emei, this mischievous monkey claimed that he was not Tuantuan's mother, and then used various tricks to abduct Tuantuan. So he shouted, "Hand over Tuantuan!"

The old monkey grinned at her and said, "Little brat, you think you can take me? Don't even think about it." Then the monkey ran away.

"Chase!" Shen Anzhi was not about to let him go, and he drew his sword and gave chase.

Ge Wensong followed closely behind, watching the monkey's figure weaving through the pile of rocks, and suddenly said, "It's deliberately leading us somewhere!"

"Who cares where it goes!" Anzhi's sword wind cleaved through the thorns blocking his way: "Today I'm going to pluck out that smug tuft of red hair from its head!" After chasing for three miles, Monkey's figure suddenly disappeared behind a low wall of a farmhouse.

Shen Anzhi stopped his sword strike and signaled Ge Wensong to be quiet. The two crept along the wall and suddenly heard a noisy discussion coming from the courtyard. "That beast is terrifying!" an old farmer said in a trembling voice. "My old sow in the pigsty was beaten by it and is now cowering in the corner, groaning. She doesn't even dare to touch her pig feed."

“That’s right,” another woman chimed in. “It’s covered in black and white fur, round and plump like a mountain, yet it moves incredibly fast. It must be a beast that’s become a monster in the mountains, a beast that eats iron.”

Iron-eating beast?
Shen Anzhi's heart clenched suddenly, and her hand gripping the sword hilt was drenched in cold sweat. She and Ge Wensong exchanged a glance, both seeing panic in each other's eyes. Besides Tuantuan, what other iron-eating beast could be at the foot of this sacred mountain?
"Make way! Make way!" A commotion arose outside the courtyard, and several men wielding farm tools rushed toward the pigsty: "The village chief said that if we let it continue like this, all the livestock in the village will be wiped out. Today we have to knock it unconscious and send it to the authorities!"

"Stop!" Shen Anzhi could no longer contain himself and kicked open the half-closed wooden door, rushing inside.

The scene in the pigsty struck her like a thunderbolt. In the center of the muddy pen, a black and white figure was squatting in front of the feeding trough with its back to her, wolfing down its food. Its round back and distinctive pigeon-toed stance were clearly Tuan Tuan.

Its fur was matted and tangled, covered in pig feces and bloodstains. Its once glossy fur was dull and lifeless. One of its forelegs was twisted unnaturally, presumably because it had been seriously injured. What was most frightening was the way it ate, like a starving beast, tearing at hard bran cakes with its fangs, its mouth covered in brown paste, and even licking the crumbs that fell into the mud clean with its tongue.

“Tuantuan!” Anzhi’s voice was choked with sobs.

“Sister Anzhi…” Ge Wensong supported her as she trembled, “Don’t be impulsive.”

Shen Anzhi then realized that her sword had been drawn at some point, its golden light piercing Tuantuan and making it tremble. She hurriedly sheathed the sword, but tears welled up in her eyes. This was no longer the same Tuantuan who used to cling to her neck and act spoiled in the bamboo forest. The fear and wariness in its eyes were clearly the look of someone who had endured countless hardships.

"I'm going to kill that brat!" Anzhi clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms. "How dare he torture it like this!"

"Wait." Ge Wensong pressed her shoulder, gesturing for her to look at Tuan Tuan's front paws. Although they were wrapped in tattered strips of cloth, one could vaguely see bronze-colored patterns wriggling around them. These were fragments of the Vajra Armor that he had sensed on the sacred mountain.

“Look, its armor is growing. And…” he lowered his voice, “Didn’t you notice? When it knocked over the trough just now, the force was enough to split rocks, but it didn’t hurt that sow who was paralyzed with fear.”

Shen Anzhi was stunned.

Ge Wensong's voice softened even more: "Perhaps, this is the path it was meant to take. Being kidnapped by Old Monkey was an accident, but it experienced what it was meant to experience."

"Sigh... Anyway, I finally found it." Anzhi walked quietly towards the pigsty.

In the mud of the pigpen, Tuan Tuan was scratching at the feeding trough with its broken paw. It had driven away all its competitors, and a group of piglets were trembling in the corner, not daring to come forward at all.

Anzhi's demon-slaying sword clattered to the ground. She crouched down and took out a bamboo necklace from her bosom. It was a keepsake that Shen Anzhi had made by hand in the bamboo forest. After Tuantuan was kidnapped by monkeys on Mount Emei, she placed the necklace on the stone table. Looking at Tuantuan's miserable state, Anzhi thought to herself: What on earth has this guy been through?
"You unfilial son." Anzhi's tears fell into the mud, some of them tears of joy, after all, Tuantuan had been with him for three years.

Tuantuan remained engrossed in the joy of filling her stomach, completely unaware of Anzhi behind her.

The pigpen's feeding trough had just been filled with bran cakes by the farmer's wife when Tuantuan, like a black and white lightning bolt, crashed into it. Its left front paw was still wrapped with a blood-soaked strip of cloth, but it ignored the pain, using its uninjured right paw to grip the edge of the trough, burying its head in the pile of bran cakes and frantically gnawing at them. Crumbs mixed with saliva dripped from its mouth into the mud...