Chapter 13: Three Days, Fanning the Hidden Wind

In the volume titled "Notes from the Wild Hills," it is written that since ancient times, this world has been governed by the Three Heavens. The so-called Three Heavens are: the Central Heaven, known as the Elder Lord; the Azure Heaven, known as the Western Lord; and the Yellow Heaven, known as the Eastern Lord.

The text states that the Central Heaven is the purest, the Azure Heaven the most exalted, and the Yellow Heaven the most turbid. These Three Heavens jointly rule the world and have divided the land into thirty-six regions.

Even in Guhe Isle, where Ji Ming resided—a remote corner in the southwest—three domains were set up under this division. The area around Hengshan, for instance, belonged to the “Lan-yin Domain,” one of the thirty-six.

"Lan-yin Domain!"

Ji Ming paused at this, recalling that in his previous life he had never heard anything of the Lan-yin Domain. It seemed that common folk had no access to such information, or perhaps it was due to the isolation of the Waterbird Village.

He did not dwell on this thought, but read further.

In ancient times, before history was recorded, demons and monsters revered the Yellow Heaven, and the ancestor of the fox lineage was once a disciple among the immortal demons under the Yellow Heaven.

The book recounted this glorious history with a tone full of longing.

Later, a disaster befell the Yellow Heaven. The details were not specified, only that from then on, the Azure Heaven rose in power and its teachings spread throughout the world. Though the Yellow Heaven retained its place among the Three Heavens in name, it had vanished after the other two, only occasionally revealing hints of its presence to remind the world that it was not gone.

After the Yellow Heaven withdrew, unwilling to languish in decline, the fox lineage pledged itself to the service of a certain true deity. With this deity’s support, the entire lineage established the “Heavenly Fox Institute” in the Taishan Gao woods, finally halting their fall from grace.

Ji Ming turned these pages over and over, reading them several times.

Though much of the writing was couched in vague, allusive language, it nonetheless broadened his horizons.

“The Yellow Heaven once honored by demons vanished, so demons gradually lost their influence, and now among the thirty-six domains, they have hardly the space to stand.” Ji Ming murmured.

He carefully set aside “Notes from the Wild Hills,” and picked up the next volume—“On Illusory Chambers.”

The very first line declared, “Transforming demons, illusions fill every chamber; hence this volume is named for illusions.” This immediately drew Ji Ming deep into the text.

He read until midnight before finally putting the book down. When he lifted his eyes, they were full of contemplation.

According to the text, the cultivation of demons differs greatly from that of mortals. Theirs is called “refining the form,” while mortals train in “refining the breath.”

The goal of refining the form is singular: to attain the Way—what is called “achieving the Way.” But this attainment is not the ascension to immortality Ji Ming had imagined; instead, it is to perfect humanity.

Indeed, the purpose of the demon’s refinement is to shed their monstrous form and take on the human body, which is most suited to cultivation.

From that point on, eating and drinking, birth and death, love and desire—all would be the same as for humans. Upon the foundation of their human body, they could then become immortal demons.

As he read this, Ji Ming reflected that, with his Treasure Eye and his rebirth as a human, he could achieve the Way much faster than ordinary demons.

Of course, he still needed some luck, for the characters for reincarnation revealed by his Treasure Eye could not be summoned at will.

But he believed that as he grew stronger and learned more, he would inevitably master his Treasure Eye.

His confidence was not unfounded; in his previous life, he had chosen to die by the crow’s beak, a deliberate act that proved his theory.

Furthermore, after reincarnating, he made additional discoveries.

For instance, the egg into which he was reborn had been laid by the very crow that had killed him. In contrast, when he was a grass carp in his first life and was caught by a group of people, he did not reincarnate into any of their offspring. Ji Ming guessed that perhaps none among them had children on the way.

In any case, it was an idea worth testing.

Late at night, the sounds of young foxes studying diligently could be heard outside the small chamber. Mouse Four was obliged to serve, bringing tea and fanning them.

As the newly appointed tutor, Ji Ming was also provided with a pot of spirit tea, a few fresh fruits of the season, and several pieces of smoked meat.

Such hospitality made Ji Ming feel almost embarrassed not to work hard.

After drinking the spirit tea, a surge of energy washed through him, making him shiver with pleasure. He placed “On Illusory Chambers” under his claw.

Setting aside the ultimate goal of refining the form, there was a line in the text that perfectly captured the daily life of a demon’s cultivation:

“In the depths of mountains and valleys, unseen and unheard, one focuses solely on channeling and guiding, communing with the yin and yang of the world, passing a hundred years as if a single day.”

At this, Ji Ming sighed deeply.

To train for a hundred years as if it were a day—such persistence was possible, but if the goal was simply to attain humanity, why should he make such an effort, when he possessed the divine power of the Treasure Eye?

Still, he understood well that a demon’s path to humanity could not be compared to his own rebirth as a human.

Yet compared to hiding away in the mountains, cut off from the world, the surging currents of human society seemed far more worthy of his efforts.

“Enough. Each life has its own way of living. For now, the most important thing is to make the Treasure Eye reveal its characters as soon as possible—otherwise, I’ll never feel truly secure.”

“Wait!”

Ji Ming suddenly remembered something. He opened his beak and coughed up the Treasure Eye from his belly.

Carefully, he extended a claw, grasped the Treasure Eye before his eyes, and exhaled energy not yet absorbed into his flesh, infusing it into the Treasure Eye.

“My hunch was right. It needs energy to speed up the revelation of the characters.” Ji Ming was delighted.

Unfortunately, he did not have spirit tea every day—he knew this was only the old master’s special treatment for the first few days, and such favors would be rare in the future.

After all, no matter how eloquent he was, no matter how remarkable his stories, he was still just a minor creature.

Returning the Treasure Eye to his belly, Ji Ming solemnly picked up the third and last volume he could find here—“The Scroll of Shadow Wind.”

So-called fanning the shadow wind and lighting ghostly flames—these are common minor arts among the spirits and monsters of the mountains.

For instance, the Lady of Bones who gambled in the old temple always carried several ghostly flames with her, a sign of her mastery of the art of “lighting ghost fires.”

Ji Ming once styled himself the king of hunters, but that was only among small and medium beasts; faced with larger animals or old, seasoned monsters, his tricks were useless.

Thus, even a minor demonic art was something he urgently needed.

The scroll contained an illustration of a celestial script, surrounded by dense notes in ancient seal script.

This true form was also mentioned in “On Illusory Chambers,” said to have come from the Book of Yellow Heaven, also called the “Celestial Book,” counterpart to the River Diagram passed down by the Azure Heaven.

It was written: “Each of the eight characters contains the ultimate mystery of the Way. This is the Celestial Book. The characters are a zhang square, each with eight radiant points, their brilliance dazzling, breathtaking—so intense that even the immortals cannot bear to look upon them.”

The earliest Celestial Book contained only eight characters, but over time, as the immortals of Yellow Heaven interpreted them, many volumes of commentaries emerged, covering arts, divination, metaphysics, and more.

The true form in “The Scroll of Shadow Wind” was derived from the Celestial Book kept at the Heavenly Fox Institute.

Thus, though this was a minor art, its origins were illustrious; should one master it fully, one might even comprehend true wonders from its teachings.

Following the annotations, Ji Ming visualized the bird-shaped true form, and soon felt an itch in his throat, an urge to cough.

“Cough, cough…”

With repeated coughing, a faint stream of air escaped his beak.

“Breath becomes wind!”

Ji Ming had not expected to master a demonic art so quickly—apparently, it was not so difficult after all!

“Hoo~”

He blew with all his might, the scroll fluttered, dust swirled in the chamber, and he played with this new power to his heart’s content.

After a while, he placed a claw on the iron box beside him.

He had not forgotten that inside the box was a “Wind-cleansing Pill”; once consumed, it would cause a fresh breeze to grow beneath his ribs.

With the aid of the Wind-cleansing Pill, the art of shadow wind might reach a new level.

As the saying goes, those without foresight are bound to have worries close at hand.

He had not forgotten that Young Master Tu had once recruited a flying spirit beast.

Now that he had taken the position first, that spirit beast was surely furious and might resort to desperate measures—Ji Ming could not afford to be careless.

“Gulp—”

Swallowing the pill, Ji Ming began to absorb its power.