The Ferocious God in the Celestial Master's Mansion

The moment consciousness returned, there was an utter exhaustion, as if all the bones in my body had been taken apart and put back together. With every movement, every part of my body screamed in pain.

Zhang Yulei opened his eyes with difficulty. What came into view was the familiar carved beams and painted rafters, with tai chi cloud patterns embroidered on the light blue curtains, and the air was filled with the faint scent of mugwort and calming incense.

This is not the Blood Moon Valley, a place of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, nor a miasma-filled land reeking of blood and malevolent energy. This is the Celestial Master's Mansion on Dragon Tiger Mountain, the place where he grew up.

He stared blankly at the cloud patterns on the tent ceiling, his mind a complete blank, with only fragmented images remaining—the blood-red miasma, the frenzied ghostly soldiers and their souls rushing towards him, the ferocious head of the Yamata no Orochi, and... those figures who fell under his sword, dressed in the Taoist robes of Qingfeng Temple and the close-fitting clothes of the Shui clan.

His heart felt like it was being gripped tightly by an invisible hand, the pain making it hard for him to breathe.

"Water..." He opened his chapped lips, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

The young Taoist disciple who was standing by the bed heard the noise and rushed over. Seeing that he was awake, his face lit up with joy: "Uncle-Master! You're awake! That's wonderful! I'll go tell the Sect Leader right away!"

With that, the young Taoist turned and was about to run away.

"Wait," Zhang Yulei called out to him, her voice weak, "How long have I been asleep?"

The young Taoist stopped and respectfully replied, "Uncle-Master, you have been asleep for seven days and seven nights. The Sect Master said that you were overexerted this time and were also affected by evil energy. It is already a great blessing that you were able to wake up."

Seven days and seven nights...

Zhang Yulei's heart sank. The great battle at Blood Moon Valley had already passed so long ago.

He struggled to sit up, but the movement aggravated his wounds, causing him to wince in pain. His body was wrapped in thick bandages, from which a faint medicinal fragrance emanated, suggesting it was the best wound medicine from his sect.

"Uncle-Master, don't move. The doctor said your injury hasn't fully healed yet and you need to rest properly." The young Taoist priest quickly helped him up.

Zhang Yulei waved his hand, leaned against the headboard, and looked out the window. Outside the window was a familiar courtyard, with several ancient pine trees standing tall and verdant. Sunlight filtered through the pine branches, casting dappled patterns on the ground.

This tranquility stands in stark contrast to the carnage of Blood Moon Valley.

He closed his eyes, and the fragmented memories in his mind gradually became clearer.

He recalled his madness after losing control, the righteous people he had mistakenly killed, the despair and heartache in the eyes of Master Yun and the Water Clan Chief, and his senior brother Zhang Zhiwei's resolute roar.

"Damn it..." he muttered under his breath, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms, drawing blood.

He mistakenly killed one of his own men.

Those people came to Blood Moon Valley to protect the common people and to slay the Japanese invaders. They were comrades-in-arms, compatriots, yet he lost control and pointed his sword at them.

Guilt and self-blame overwhelmed him like a tidal wave.

Just then, footsteps approached. Zhang Yulei looked up and saw Zhang Zhiwei walk in.

He was still wearing that blue robe, but it was faded from washing and the scorch marks on the cuffs were still there. His face showed a hint of fatigue, but he remained gentle.

Seeing that Zhang Yulei was awake, a hint of relief flashed in Zhang Zhiwei's eyes. He quickly walked to the bedside: "Junior Brother, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Zhang Yulei looked at him, her lips moved, but she didn't know what to say. All her unspoken words ultimately boiled down to one sentence: "Senior brother... I'm sorry."

I'm sorry, I lost control.

I'm sorry, I accidentally killed one of my own.

I'm sorry for causing you trouble.

Zhang Zhiwei paused for a moment, then sat on the edge of the bed, reached out and patted his shoulder, his voice gentle: "It's not your fault. It was my oversight in not stopping you in time that led to this disaster."

Zhang Yulei's eyes reddened: "No, it's my fault. I couldn't control my anger, I'm a madman..."

"Don't talk nonsense." Zhang Zhiwei interrupted him, his brows furrowing slightly. "You're not crazy. You just lost control because you were possessed by evil energy and witnessed too much killing. Anyone in that situation might not have done better than you."

He paused, his tone growing heavy: "We won the battle of Blood Moon Valley. The influence of the Japanese supernatural beings in Jiangxi has been completely eradicated. The people no longer have to live in fear. You deserve the most credit for this. If you hadn't slain Ghost Face and broken his Yin Soldier Soul-Devouring Formation, we would probably have been wiped out long ago."

"But I also killed my own people..." Zhang Yulei's voice choked with sobs.

Zhang Zhiwei's eyes dimmed, and after a moment of silence, he slowly spoke: "The two disciples of Qingfeng Temple, the three members of the Shui clan... they are all buried in the Martyrs' Shrine on Mount Lu. Daoist Yun and the Shui clan chief did not blame you. They said you had no choice. Chairman Zhong's fist was shattered by your attack, and he is currently recuperating at the clinic at the foot of the mountain. He said that once he recovers, he will want to exchange a few moves with you."

Zhang Yulei finally couldn't hold back her tears and they fell down.

Those people, who were clearly hurt by him, were still so forgiving. This forgiving made him feel even more guilty.

"It was Master Yun and the others who brought you back," Zhang Zhiwei continued. "After the battle at Blood Moon Valley, everyone was injured. I had to stay behind to handle the aftermath, bury the fallen heroes, and appease the people. So I asked Master Yun and the others to take you back to the Celestial Master's Mansion day and night. When Master saw that you were seriously injured and unconscious, he was furious and heartbroken, and immediately summoned the best doctors to treat you."

Zhang Yulei nodded, his heart filled with mixed feelings.

He knew that his master, Zhang Jingqing, had high hopes for him, but he had caused such a mess.

"Where is Master?" he asked in a low voice.

"Master is waiting for you to wake up. He has something to tell you," Zhang Zhiwei said. "However, you've just woken up and are still weak. Let you eat something and rest for a while before I take you to see Master."

Zhang Yulei shook his head: "No need. I'll go see my master now."

He struggled to get out of bed, but Zhang Zhiwei held him down.

"Junior Brother," Zhang Zhiwei looked at him solemnly, "Master is afraid he will punish you this time. You should be prepared."

Zhang Yulei gave a bitter smile: "I deserve what I got. It's only right that I be punished."

He knew that he had lost control this time and caused a huge commotion. Not only had he accidentally killed his own people, but he had also almost ruined Blood Moon Valley's grand plan. No matter how much his master loved him, he would never tolerate this.

Zhang Zhiwei sighed, said nothing more, and simply helped him slowly get off the bed.

The two walked through the familiar corridor and headed towards the Celestial Master's Hall.

Along the way, the disciples they encountered all bowed respectfully to them. However, the way they looked at Zhang Yulei carried a hint of awe, as well as a subtle sense of distance.

Zhang Yulei knew that the news of his out-of-control killing had probably already spread throughout his sect.

He lowered his head, feeling even more guilty.

Inside the Celestial Master Hall, incense smoke wafted through the air. Zhang Jingqing sat upright on a prayer mat, dressed in an apricot-yellow Taoist robe, his hair and beard all white, his face solemn.

Seeing Zhang Zhiwei and Zhang Yulei walk in, his gaze fell on Zhang Yulei, his eyes filled with complex emotions, including heartache, anger, and a hint of helplessness.

"Master." Zhang Yulei knelt down and kowtowed heavily. "This disciple knows his mistake."

Zhang Jingqing remained silent for a long time before slowly speaking, her voice aged and authoritative: "Do you know where you went wrong?"

"This disciple shouldn't have lost control of his violent temper, shouldn't have accidentally killed his fellow disciples, shouldn't have..." Zhang Yulei's voice choked, and he couldn't continue.

Zhang Jingqing waved her hand and sighed: "Your biggest mistake was not accidentally killing someone, but failing to uphold your own principles."

He stood up, walked to Zhang Yulei, and said with a deep gaze, "Yulei, you are exceptionally talented, a once-in-a-century genius of Longhu Mountain. I have high hopes for you, hoping that you can inherit the position of Celestial Master, protect the common people, and bring glory to our sect. But your temperament is too fierce, and your violent nature is too heavy. Power is a double-edged sword; it can slay demons and monsters, but it can also harm others and yourself. Your loss of control this time is the best proof of that."

"If you cannot control your anger and allow it to devour your true self, one day you will surely become a slave to your own power and a demon who wreaks havoc on the world."

Zhang Yulei trembled, raised his head, and his eyes were filled with fear: "Master, your disciple..."

"I know you didn't mean it," Zhang Jingqing interrupted him, her tone softening. "The tragedy of Blood Moon Valley would make anyone feel resentful. But you're different. You possess the unique skills of Dragon Tiger Mountain, and your strength far surpasses that of ordinary people. You must learn to control your emotions and guard your true self."

He paused, then his tone became serious again: "From today onwards, once you have recovered from your injuries, you are not allowed to go down the mountain at will."

Zhang Yulei's heart sank.

"I have prepared a quiet place for you to cultivate on the Tranquil Cliff behind the mountain. It is far away from the hustle and bustle of the world and is suitable for recuperating and tempering your mind," Zhang Jingqing continued. "You will be allowed to come out only when you have extinguished the resentment in your heart and truly gained control of your power."

Tranquil Cliff.

Zhang Yulei was startled. That was the most remote part of Longhu Mountain, shrouded in mist year-round, rarely visited by anyone. His master's order for him to go there for quiet cultivation was tantamount to... house arrest.

"Master..." He opened his mouth, as if to say something.

"This is an order." Zhang Jingqing's tone brooked no argument. "You don't need to say anything more. I'm doing this for your own good. If you can't successfully cultivate your mind, going down the mountain will only cause greater disaster."

Standing to the side, Zhang Zhiwei sighed inwardly. He knew that his master's decision was correct. His junior brother's violent temper was too strong; if left unchecked, it would inevitably lead to disaster sooner or later. Although Tranquil Cliff was remote, it was an excellent place for cultivating one's mind.

He stepped forward, cupped his hands in greeting to Zhang Jingqing, and said, "Master, I have a request."

"Go ahead," Zhang Jingqing said.

"Please allow me, Master, to visit my junior brother at Tranquil Cliff from time to time, to explain the Daoist teachings to him, and to help him cultivate his mind," Zhang Zhiwei said.

Zhang Jingqing glanced at him and nodded: "Approved. Yulei is stubborn, it's good that you can guide him."

Zhang Yulei looked at Zhang Zhiwei with gratitude in his eyes.

"Thank you, senior brother."

Zhang Zhiwei smiled and patted him on the shoulder: "We are fellow disciples, no need to be so polite."

Zhang Jingqing waved her hand: "Alright. Go back and heal your injuries first. Once you're healed, go to Tranquil Heart Cliff. Remember, the path of cultivating the heart is long and arduous. Only by guarding your true heart can you achieve the Great Dao."

"This disciple will remember Master's teachings." Zhang Yulei kowtowed heavily.

Then, he stood up and followed Zhang Zhiwei out of the Celestial Master's Hall.

The sun shines on me, but I can't feel any warmth at all.

Zhang Yulei looked up at the back of Longhu Mountain, where clouds and mist swirled, and Jingxin Cliff was located deep within those clouds and mist.

He knew that his path of self-cultivation had only just begun.

He must control his anger and guard his true self.

Not for anything else, but for the heroic spirits who died because of him, for his senior brother's trust, for his master's expectations, and even more so, to protect the common people who need his protection.

He clenched his fist, a determined glint in his eyes.

Tranquil Cliff, here I come.

One day, I will leave this place with a clear and pure heart.

By then, I will no longer be a madman controlled by resentment.

Rather, they are the true guardians of Longhu Mountain.

Looking into his determined eyes, Zhang Zhiwei nodded with satisfaction.