Journey to the West: Starting with becoming an apprentice of the Nine Heavens Demon-Subduing Patriar

The ten-day deadline has arrived.

The weather was perfect that day; the sky was cloudless, and the sun climbed higher and higher, burning away all the mist that covered the mountains.

Lu Shanjun used his finger as a brush, dipping it in the dark red ink, and stroked it stroke by stroke on the gray-blue sword.

To the untrained eye, talismans are just scribbles, but to the expert, each stroke carries its own energy.

As the old saying goes, "If you draw talismans without knowing the trick, you'll only invite ridicule from ghosts and gods."

What's the secret? It's in the breath. With a continuous thought and a continuous brushstroke, a single talisman, from the beginning to the end, is formed by a single breath of true energy flowing from start to finish.

Lu Shanjun held his breath and focused his fingers, creating a three-foot-long sword with seven runes in one smooth motion.

At noon, the sun reached its zenith.

Three large, speckled roosters were invited onto the blue stone in front of the cave. They stretched their necks, faced the bright sunlight, and crowed in unison.

The rooster crows three times, and all the evil spirits retreat.

Lu Shanjun placed the lightning-struck wood core under the sword blade and flicked a wisp of fire from his fingertip.

The Yin Fu Jing states: Fire originates from wood.

This piece of wood core had endured seven bolts of lightning over ten years of thunderstorms, and the essence of thunder and fire had long been ingrained in its bones, so it would ignite at the slightest touch of fire.

The fire that ignited was not red, but bluish-white, smokeless and silent, hanging quietly beneath the sword like a frozen bolt of lightning.

The sword tip crossed the fire three times.

The first time, the sword was slightly warm.

The second time, the dark red in the runes turned into crimson gold.

After the third time, the essence of the sun, the crowing of the rooster, and the thunder and fire—the three most yang energies—were all absorbed into that single line of sword energy.

The fire died down, and the sword grew cold.

[External Item: Demon-Slaying Stone Sword (Yang Blade Activated)]

[Annotation: Incense and ritual are its foundation, while the essence of the sun and thunder are its sharp edge. All yin forces repel it. Yin spirits that touch it are like snowflakes thrown into a furnace.]

Lu Shanjun took a piece of coarse cloth, wrapped the sword layer by layer, and slung it diagonally across his back.

The cloth could conceal the shape of the sword, but it couldn't hide the heavy, dignified aura emanating from it. With this sword on his back, he seemed like a completely different demon.

"Let's go."

He said calmly, "Take this as tribute to the King."

……

In the afternoon, the Yellow Wind Cave swarmed out.

Tiger Two led the way, followed by Black Mane and two other members of the clan carrying the largest box. Old Python Meng Zhang trailed at the back, his eyes half-open, swaying with every step.

Huang San huddled in the middle of the line, clutching the gift list in his arms, trembling like a piece of yellow paper in the wind.

The box was heavy, making the lever creak loudly.

The spies on the main peak glanced at it from afar and nodded in agreement: Tiger Vanguard has really gone all out this time.

Only the person carrying the box knew that there was no living person or Taoist boy inside.

The surface was covered with a layer of mountain produce, underneath were various weapons, and below that were dozens of kilograms of heavy bluestone.

The higher you go, the fewer trees there are, and the more bones you see.

The roadside grass was covered in white, some containing animal bones, others clearly not from animals.

The wind howls and sobs as it passes the cliff edge.

The people from the three villages at the foot of the mountain secretly call this road "Wolf Feeding Slope." Once you take a walk on it, you'll understand why it's such a fitting name.

When they reached a pass halfway up the mountain, the old python suddenly coughed.

Lu Shanjun kept walking, without even lifting his eyelids: "How many?"

"Eight on the cliff, twelve in the forest, and two eagles hanging under the clouds."

The old python's voice was low, almost a whisper, "They're all drawing their bows and arrows. What a grand welcome."

"It's good that you saw it."

Lu Shanjun said, "Go when you should go, laugh when you should laugh."

At the very top of the main peak stands a stone palace, half-carved and half-built, with its doorway facing north, so that not even a sliver of sunlight can penetrate during the day.

A dozen or so eerie green lamps were lit in the hall, casting shimmering shadows throughout.

As Lu Shanjun stepped across the threshold, he glanced at the doorway once more.

North-facing. Shaded. A long night in the palace.

Good place.

……

A banquet had already been held in the palace.

The long table was laid out, and the "meat and wine" on it were mostly raw meat with blood on it. The smell of blood mixed with the smell of alcohol covered people's faces.

The various demon leaders lined up on both sides, each only daring to touch half of the mat with their buttocks.

Yinhao sat in the main seat.

The three-hundred-year-old wolf was not the ferocious monster one might imagine.

The creature, with its gray back, sat upright, wearing a faded gray robe. Its paws were neatly clean, and its eyelids were half-drooping, making it look like a dozing old man.

"The mountain king is here."

The wolf king spoke, his voice husky yet warm, "Sit. How long has it been since we, ruler and subject, shared a drink together?"

Lu Shanjun didn't stand on ceremony and went straight to the first table in the guest section, where he sat down with an air of authority.

Tiger Two stood behind him with his hand on his knife, while Black Mane and Old Python sat to his left and right respectively.

The demon servant brought up the wine.

At the head of the pack, a long, thin, gray-skinned old jackal rose to his feet. He was one of the wolf king's top generals, named Luefeng.

Its smile stretched from ear to ear. Holding a cup of wine, it first circled the room to offer toasts, and finally stopped in front of Lu Shanjun's table.

"Tiger Lord, the ten-day deadline has been counted down by the King himself."

It gestured towards the large chests outside the palace gate, "I wonder if those delicate, tender 'good stuff'... is inside?"

"What's the rush?"

Lu Shanjun picked up his wine bowl. "The best stuff is naturally saved for last."

He didn't drink from the bowl; he just shook it first.

The wine is excellent, made from wild fruits, with a sweet and fragrant aroma.

But beneath that sweetness, there was a very faint tingling sensation; before the tongue even touched it, the root of the nose went numb.

He couldn't recognize what kind of poison it was.

There's no need to acknowledge it.

Yinhao didn't rush the drinking; he got to the point first. He began slowly and deliberately:

"I have invited you all here today for two reasons. First, to collect tribute. Second, I have some good news to tell you."

"I am far away in Black Wind Mountain, where I have a sworn brother, a Black Bear Spirit. He is highly skilled in Taoism and has a wide circle of friends. Even the monks in the great temple want to sit and discuss Taoism with him. In a while, he will be coming to visit us at Yellow Wind Ridge."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over each of the leaders in the hall, one by one.

"Distinguished guests have arrived, so we cannot be rude. At that time, we will need you brothers to prepare plenty of tender and delicious food."

"Every family needs to contribute."

The hall fell silent instantly.

Lu Shanjun lowered his eyes, but his mind was perfectly clear.

What a clever way to pledge allegiance!

The old Taoist priest at the foot of the mountain guards three paths, and his sword only slays demons who have taken human lives.

Yinhao's move is meant to get all the demons on the mountain involved and kill them.

Once all the demons boarded the ship, not one of them was clean, and not one of them could hide inside the talisman lines and watch the main peak make a fool of itself.

Incidentally, they also brought up "Black Wind Mountain" to intimidate people.

The wine, carried by the wind, was brought over again.

This time, it held the bowl with both paws, bringing it up to Lu Shanjun's nose, and its smile became even more ingratiating:

"Tiger Lord, the wine bestowed by the King has not yet been tasted."

"The King bestows wine upon us, what an honor! Tiger Lord, could it be... that you dislike something in this wine?"

All eyes in the hall turned to look at it.

Looking at that smiling face, Lu Shanjun suddenly smiled too.

"What's in the drink? Do you dare drink it?"

The smile that had been sweeping across his face froze on his face.

"No need for you to drink it, I've already tasted it for you."

Lu Shanjun picked up his bowl and tilted his wrist.

Dark red wine was spilled on the table, soaking a piece of raw meat. In just a few breaths, the edges of the meat turned a deathly gray.

"Good wine."

He slammed the empty bowl into the palm of his hand.

"Click."

The rough earthenware bowl shattered with a crack, and shards of porcelain scattered all over the table.

The change happened in that instant.

Lu Shanjun extended one arm, his five fingers gripping the old jackal's throat, and steadily lifted it off the ground.

The wind-swept claws dug fiercely into the tiger's arm, leaving several bloody marks, while its hind legs kicked wildly in mid-air and made a "hoarse" sound from its throat.

"You just asked if the good stuff was in the box."

Lu Shanjun looked at it and spoke calmly.

"No. It's here."

With all five fingers tucked in.

"Click."

A crisp sound, as light as stepping on a dry twig. The old jackal's body went limp and slumped down, its demonic aura dissipating completely.