Chapter 47: Beneath the Cavern, the Three Young Disciples

To the southwest of Hengshan, there stood a wild peak, beneath which yawned a deep cavern, claimed now by a certain cultivator.

A cold wind howled from beyond the peak, whistling as it swept across the cave’s mouth. There, a black centipede, half the height of a man, rose upright, its eyes fixed on the depths below.

“Good, good, very good. This cave is fated to be my place of practice,” Ji Ming said, clapping his hands with a laugh.

After this lighthearted chuckle, he leapt into the cavern, his long arms and legs bracing deftly against the outcroppings of the rock wall, descending to the floor in just a few breaths.

“Is it Master who’s returned?” Deep within the cave, three children who had not seen sunlight for a long time crept forward, whispering their question.

“He’s not Master. I’m scared...” Among them, the girl, seeing the vague, many-legged silhouette emerging from the entrance, began to cry loudly.

Immediately, the three children clung together, trembling with fear.

Ji Ming patted the three pouch-like bags strapped to his armored back, then struck one. Out came a monk’s robe, which he draped over his half-man-high centipede form. From the mouth of another bag, a peachwood sword and a string of sandalwood prayer beads emerged, which Ji Ming slung over his back and gripped in his hand. Thus attired, he managed to conceal a fraction of his monstrous appearance.

“Do not be afraid!” Ji Ming approached, palms pressed together in a gesture of prayer. “From now on, I am the master of this cave, your new lord. You may live here as before.”

As Ji Ming drew nearer, the three children finally saw his true form clearly. What a marvelous spirit! The monk’s robe half covered his body, two rows of obsidian legs arched like sickles, palms joined in a Buddhist salute, a creature seven parts demon and three parts monk.

These children, accustomed to caring for venomous insects and snakes in the cave, had seen enough of the world not to be frightened by what Ji Ming had left unconcealed.

“Does this mean we can never go home?” the girl asked tearfully.

Ji Ming laughed, “Don’t worry. Once the matters of fate here have been settled, you will be free to go home.”

Perhaps reassured by his gentle manner, one boy plucked up the courage to ask, “New master, may we go outside the cave from time to time?”

The other two children immediately covered his mouth, looking nervously yet expectantly at the cave spirit.

Ji Ming considered for a moment, then did not refuse outright. “And why do you want to go?”

“I want to bury my old companion and raise a new grave for him. I don’t want him to become a wandering ghost, nor do I wish to end up the same way...”

At this, all three children burst into tears.

Ji Ming, who had grown within the medicine cauldron, well remembered how Yu Xiao had managed the cave’s children. It was also why he had shown no mercy when dealing with him.

“Very well!” Ji Ming waved a large hand, but before the children could rejoice, his tone darkened. “But let me be clear: if even one of you tries to escape, the other two will not survive.”

The children nodded obediently, clearly used to such threats of death. Then they led their new master on a tour of the cave.

Within were three small rooms and a stone hall. In the center of the hall stood a square medicine cauldron, which Yu Xiao had used daily to refine the Five Immortals’ elixirs. Ji Ming had spent much time within that very cauldron.

Next to the hall was a meditation room for quiet practice, and two stone chambers for storing spirit snakes, venomous seeds, and the preparation of toxic foods and medicines.

Having familiarized himself with his new abode, Ji Ming left and returned many times, carrying in, bit by bit, the eighteen chests of treasure that lay outside. Just this task alone took over half a month.

Now, in the Orchid Shade region—especially among the thirteen great stockades neighboring Li Ridge—a mix of all sorts gathered, with groups of wandering heretics and outsiders increasing by the day.

To hide himself, Ji Ming could only move his hoard like an ant, using his two storage pouches to carry it little by little.

Once all eighteen chests were safely inside, he finally felt at ease.

“Time to refine the Treasure Eye!” he thought, anticipation stirring within him.

Eighteen chests of treasure were more than enough for the ritual. His first choice of a place for the refinement was among the tombs of the Fox Shrine—a place rich in corpses, ideal for building an altar of Yin-fire and corpses.

Moreover, the Fox Shrine outside Hengshan was shrouded in the illusions of the Grand Elder, so even if he made a commotion, he needn’t fear attracting unwanted attention.

In these troubled times, this was crucial, for Ji Ming had no wish to be mistaken for a newly emerged treasure by passing cultivators and beset on all sides.

His second choice was the riverbank shoals, the old lair of the Bone Lady. When he had refined the Bone-Piled Heart Bead, he had also considered these two options.

Yet now, having offended Young Master Hutu during his last refinement, another attempt there would surely provoke a confrontation.

After the battle at the Watchtower, Ji Ming’s once-swelling pride had receded. Though he no longer feared Hutu, he could not guarantee victory.

He decided to wait. In just over two months, on the twentieth of June, it would be Lady Taishan’s sacred birthday at the Heavenly Fox Academy. At that time, Young Master Hutu would be heading to Taishan to attend the academy’s annual examination—a perfect window for his ritual.

With leisure at hand, Ji Ming allowed himself a rare moment of kindness, helping the three children gather and inter the remains scattered throughout the cave—seventeen small bodies in all, none of them grown.

Seeing these remains, Ji Ming’s heart was seized by rare anger, and he regretted not grinding Yu Xiao’s bones to dust when he’d had the chance.

“What sort of chieftain is this? Nothing but a heretical villain. In these remote mountain villages, emboldened by the men of Panhou Gate and the disciples of the Spirit-mother, unchecked by any authority, he did as he pleased,” Ji Ming thought with hatred.

He had believed his own moral bottom line, stretched as it was in pursuit of the Way, lay low enough, but compared to Yu Xiao, he was a mere minor thief beside a grand villain.

Back when he was in the medicine cauldron, a child was killed by Yu Xiao for failing to care for him properly; Ji Ming had thought it an isolated incident. Now he saw otherwise.

It seemed he had not shed the moral logic of his hometown after all; much of his judgment still followed the old ways. Such civilized thinking was not suited to his current world.

But Ji Ming knew, changing that way of thinking was as hard as growing a new brain—an arduous task that would take time.

With a sigh, he roughly interred the remains, then stood before the graves, palms joined, and recited the Scripture of Deliverance of the Three Celestial Lords. The three children, almost unconsciously, joined in the chant.

There, beneath the dim sun outside the wild cave, a centipede spirit and three children chanting together made a strange yet harmonious scene.

One night, Ji Ming finally took out three spirit tablets from his storage pouch, preparing to subdue the three ghosts within.

Without any scriptures to guide him, this attempt was somewhat risky, but still within his control.

In Ji Ming’s heart, he knew this attempt was worth it—a small step toward one day becoming a cultivator of all trades.