Chapter 27: Robbery, A Settled Heart

Summoning spirits by moonlight and mastering the arts with the wind, Ji Ming’s life gradually found its rhythm.

He abided by his agreement with the Crimson-Blooded Old Priestess, and his correspondence with Madam Zhang dwindled, though it did not cease entirely.

In the few letters they exchanged, most circled the subject of the Ironback Centipede’s mating in a roundabout way.

During his secluded cultivation by the pond, two fox spirits from the She Clan came to seek him out.

They informed him that Young Master Tu had already completed the blueprints for the repeating crossbow and requested his swift return to the clan, hoping he might offer up more ingenious contraptions.

As a gesture of goodwill, the clan would forget his covert assistance in Mouse Four’s escape—a secret they claimed would be buried forever.

Ji Ming wondered how this matter had leaked; the likeliest culprit seemed to be Old Lord Bony Mud.

Though sealed for a century, that mountain spirit still wielded his authority, commanding the mountain’s birds and beasts as his eyes and limbs.

Ji Ming had once slain his minion—the Blade Monkey—and forced him to reveal how Mouse Four might escape disaster, no doubt humiliating him greatly and earning a grudge.

Ji Ming made a mental note to settle this debt in the future.

Now, with Young Master Tu demanding new inventions, Old Lord Bony Mud harboring malice, and the Old Priestess regarding him as a thorn in her side, Ji Ming found himself entangled in endless karmic threads within this small Hengshan.

No wonder the mountain spirits and ghosts lingered for centuries in solitude; once they stepped beyond the mountains, the slightest misstep left them nowhere to stand.

Ji Ming ignored Young Master Tu’s summons, chasing away the fox spirits one by one.

He could barely recall the workings of the repeating crossbow, let alone produce any more contrivances.

A few days later, the news he had yearned for at last arrived—the Ironback Centipede had completed its mating and was sent back from Great Panhu Mountain.

“It’s time to act!” Ji Ming thought to himself.

...

At some point, Madam Zhang, or Zhang Xinmei, rarely visited the pond anymore, choosing instead to devote herself to secluded cultivation at home.

The Old Priestess observed her disciple’s recent behavior with suspicion, thinking that though the demon’s mind was hardly sharp, he was certainly devout in his beliefs.

Just as she was turning this over in her mind, a crow flew straight into her home in the Stonewhite Stronghold, a letter clutched brazenly in its beak.

“It’s that demon’s messenger!”

The Old Priestess nearly snapped her bamboo staff in fury, forced to watch helplessly as the crow landed… right before her.

Not only was she stunned, but even Madam Zhang, under the same roof, was equally taken aback. They both felt as though the crow had mistaken its recipient.

Quick as lightning, the Old Priestess snatched up the letter and scanned it.

In crooked script, it contained two requests: the demon claimed he had kept his promise and hoped the Old Priestess would remove the smoke poison from him; secondly, he wished to borrow the Ironback Centipede.

The Old Priestess’s face darkened. She had never planned to spare him, only waiting for Madam Zhang to sever all ties before secretly arranging for his elimination.

But unexpectedly, the demon had delivered himself into her hands today.

…

Glancing again at the rendezvous point on the letter—Luoxi Peak, more than a hundred miles away—the demon was clearly cautious.

After the Old Priestess departed, Madam Zhang saw another crow arrive—a magnificent, giant bird.

When the giant crow landed, it transformed, with a gust of chilly wind, into the figure of a Daoist priest.

Madam Zhang’s expression was a mix of emotions; she knew Ji Ming must have lured the Old Priestess away for some urgent favor.

“You really don’t value your life.”

Kindhearted, Madam Zhang hurried outside for a look around, saying, “Stonewhite Stronghold may be remote, but it’s not without wanderers of unorthodox paths or local Daoists. Your transformation is incomplete; you’ll reveal your demonic nature if anyone observes you.”

Ji Ming felt a long-lost warmth at her concern, assuring her he would soon be gone, then came to the point: “I don’t have much time. I came to ask for something from you.”

“The Ironback Centipede!”

“You knew?”

Madam Zhang gave a bitter smile. “I am not blind or foolish. Before you began to distance yourself, every letter of yours probed for news of the Ironback Centipede. How could I not guess? But after mating, the centipede was greatly weakened and is now tended inside Grandmother’s body. Even if I wish to lend it, I cannot.”

“No,” Ji Ming replied, “I don’t need you to lend it. I want the Priestess to bring it herself.”

He whispered his plan in her ear, making Madam Zhang laugh. “I must have owed some karmic debt in a past life to be acting in your charade.”

“Rest assured, next life I’ll repay you,” Ji Ming laughed heartily.

Madam Zhang took it as a jest, shot him a resentful glance, and then stood under the eaves, gazing outward.

“Grandmother really is coming back!”

Soon, Madam Zhang exclaimed in surprise.

Outside, the Crimson-Blooded Old Priestess had indeed returned; such a simple ruse could not deceive her, especially since Ji Ming had left deliberate traces.

As the Old Priestess drew near, Madam Zhang, following Ji Ming’s instructions, feigned panic.

“Go quickly!” she cried, rushing from the eaves, casting a glance behind. “Grandmother has returned. Go back to the mountains for now; I’ll bring you the Ironback Centipede another day.”

Hearing this from afar, the Old Priestess’s face wrinkled with anger.

Madam Zhang’s appearance was clearly lovesick; if she broke apart these lovers by force, she feared her cherished disciple would hate her forever.

For now, she could only lend out the Ironback Centipede herself, then seek out some heterodox cultivator or righteous Daoist to slay the demon in the name of exterminating evil.

Returning home, the Old Priestess found the demon seated calmly on her meditation mat, as if he had anticipated her every move.

Suppressing her malice, she clawed into her palm and drew out the wriggling Ironback Centipede, tossing it straight into Ji Ming’s arms.

“Such a spirit—why ask my disciple for the centipede? Speak to this old woman directly; how could I refuse you?”

Ji Ming knew that before Madam Zhang, the Old Priestess would never attack him, instead presenting a magnanimous, forgiving front.

No doubt in her heart, she had cursed him hundreds of times over.

He tucked the Ironback Centipede into his sleeve, unafraid of any attempt to poison him; such a move might even suit his designs.

As Ji Ming was about to leave, Madam Zhang supported the Old Priestess and called after him, saying, “From today on, our bond is ended. There is nothing left between us.”

The Old Priestess was gratified to hear these words, believing her endurance and sacrifices had not been in vain.

“Very well!” Ji Ming replied readily.

With the Ironback Centipede in his sleeve, Ji Ming returned to Hengshan.

The centipede was limp and frail—having mated and laid eggs on Great Panhu Mountain, its vitality was indeed drained.

Having borrowed the Ironback Centipede, Ji Ming did not intend to let this life slip away carelessly.

Now, he dared not take from others at will, nor did he frequent the world of men, fearing he might attract the attention of wandering Daoists.

With no foundation in transformation magic, continuing would be pointless and a waste of time.

His current state was reminiscent of the two bat-owl demons he had once slain—seeking shelter from Young Master Tu for a chance at immortality, yet reduced to mere servants and enforcers.

Ji Ming’s status in the clan was the result of clever maneuvering, but like water without a source or a tree without roots, it could not last.

Though grateful for Old Lord Hu’s trust, he always saw this truth clearly.

His foundation in this life was meager; to achieve anything, he would have to endure countless tribulations and hardships, to be torn apart and remade before even a sliver of hope appeared.

But then again, since he possessed the Treasure Eye, why subject himself to such trials?

Since coming of age, he’d never believed in the nonsense that suffering breeds success—pain’s only lesson is to make you suffer more keenly.

What he had to do was use every chance at rebirth wisely and well, ensuring each life yielded gains, laying the groundwork for his ascent to immortality.

Now, the wisest and most fitting course was… a robbery.

But whom to rob?

Why, Old Lord Bony Mud in the ruined temple, of course. Ji Ming had long disliked him, and now the old spirit deserved to be robbed blind.