Chapter 55: Brothers, Crimson Helmets

Ji Ming packed his belongings that very day and headed toward the riverbed north of the mountain. To his surprise, he found he was not alone; the monk Dayou from Bald Brush Peak was also waiting there.

“Friend Wu!” Dayou greeted, palms pressed together, as a gust of dark wind descended. He complimented, “A stubborn insect’s body, yet you have taken the first step. With daily refinement, your transformation will surely reach perfection.”

“But what is perfection worth, if one cannot become human? In the end, it’s nothing but a fleeting illusion,” Ji Ming replied.

“Fleeting illusion!” Dayou silently repeated the phrase, sensing deep Zen meaning within it. He studied the centipede spirit before him more closely. That day at the temple, he had noticed the absence of wildness in this creature’s gaze—the look of someone who had seen the world, and grown profound from it. Few scholars possessed such eyes.

“Master, were you invited here by the Golden Lion Ape as well?” Ji Ming asked, hoping to strike up a conversation.

Dayou sighed, pressed his palms together, and softly chanted a prayer. “I wished not to become entangled in karma, yet I am already a man of tribulation. The Golden Lion Ape, having found traces of the celestial beings atop the Mountain of Perilous Birds, insists I guide him through the gate.”

Ji Ming remembered that Dayou had resisted this proposal at the temple; now he seemed to have changed his mind. Was he one to hold out until the reward was certain? He doubted the Golden Lion Ape could force him to change his views.

“Heaven has compassion for all life,” Dayou said gently. “As you yourself said, it’s better to follow heaven than to oppose it.”

Ji Ming thought to himself, “He’s clearly unable to resist temptation, yet uses my words as an excuse.”

“They’re here!” Dayou announced.

In the middle of the river, a wave crested, and the familiar figure of the ape crouched atop it, scratching his ears, unable to contain his joy.

“Brother Centipede, Master Dayou!” Even before the wave reached shore, the Golden Lion Ape leapt eagerly onto the bank. “Good news, truly wonderful news…”

He stopped himself, letting suspense build. Smiling slyly, he said to Ji Ming and Dayou, “Why don’t you take a guess?”

Dayou glanced at Ji Ming, surprised that in just a few weeks the ape called the centipede spirit “brother.” He knew the Golden Lion Ape, despite his self-deprecating manner, was proud at heart. It seemed this centipede spirit had some talent to earn his respect.

“Friend Wu, you guess first,” Dayou invited.

Ji Ming, in truth, doubted that a celestial being had descended in this realm. He suspected the monks of Four Sorrows Cloud Temple had other motives for coming here. Still, seeing the ape’s excitement, he did not wish to dampen his spirits.

Feigning surprise, Ji Ming asked, “Has the hexagram of the Great Herd truly manifested on the Mountain of Perilous Birds?”

“The Great Herd hexagram?” Dayou looked at the ape with surprise; divining hexagrams was not the river god’s specialty.

“Exactly!” Sensing Dayou’s astonishment, the Golden Lion Ape boasted, “The celestial being is on the Mountain of Perilous Birds, in the third peak.”

He began to explain. Ji Ming learned that the ape had lingered on the mountain, searching for those hiding there. The ape believed these strangers arrived ahead of him and must be monks from Four Sorrows Cloud Temple, confirming his suspicions. Over the past days, he finally found traces of them and a concealed illusion array.

“Master Dayou, were it not for your mastery of arrays, I wouldn’t have let you join in for nothing, nor let you take the celestial being. But as long as we foil those stinking monks, I’ll accept the loss.”

The Golden Lion Ape was determined to contend with the monks to the end; such was his nature, intolerant of those who used power to oppress.

Dayou showed little joy, pressing his palms together. “Until all is settled, nothing is certain.”

Ji Ming remained silent. He had inspected the third peak several times—there was no illusion array atop it. If the array wasn’t on the summit but somewhere else, the celestial would not be within it. That illusion array…

Ji Ming felt a foreboding unease, worrying about this trip to the Mountain of Perilous Birds.

“Very well!” Seeing the lack of joy on Dayou’s face and in Ji Ming’s eyes, the ape felt some invisible slight. He raised a great wave and swept both companions toward the mountain.

As they arrived, they saw thick smoke billowing from the third peak.

“Not good, someone got there first!” The ape looked as though his prized treasure had been stolen.

Dayou and Ji Ming stopped the ape from rushing up the peak.

“I’ll scout ahead,” Ji Ming volunteered, certain the third peak was a trap.

Without waiting for the ape’s reply, he cast a small spell, riding a howling wind toward the third peak.

“A fine technique!” Dayou praised.

The ape bared his teeth, lowering his head, refusing to look at his centipede brother.

Ji Ming hid in the wind, using its force to rise high, then veered toward the third peak. His wind technique had grown much stronger with practice; now, if he traveled without stirring up the wind, it felt as if he lacked proper presence.

Especially before the ape, who was poor at riding winds, Ji Ming’s deliberate restraint could not hide the ape’s jealous glances, nearly making Ji Ming laugh.

He stopped the wind, dared not approach the summit, and watched from afar.

On the shaded side of the peak, thick smoke poured from a cave. Ji Ming heard faint cries of battle, and fluttered closer, descending several yards for a better view.

A flutter of wings sounded.

From within the smoke, a monk in plain robes, bearing a pair of feathered wings, burst out in disarray. He spotted Ji Ming, eyes wide with shock.

“He foresaw my actions, sending this centipede immortal to ambush me!”

“What nonsense?” Ji Ming thought.

Another voice, cold and sharp, echoed from within the smoke, chilling the heart.

“Wen Daoyu, can the wooden needle cure my poison?”

A male head, wearing a scarlet helmet inlaid with golden dragon patterns, emerged from the smoke. Sunlight revealed fine scales across his face. His narrow eyes flashed past the winged monk and locked onto Ji Ming.

“A wild flying centipede!” he exclaimed, as if announcing the discovery of a rare, wild Pokémon.

“A disciple of Panhu Gate,” Ji Ming thought bitterly. He had expected danger and now it was confirmed.

“Run!” In that instant, he and the winged monk exchanged glances, reading each other’s intent.

A hiss—snake voices—sounded. Two serpent heads shot from the smoke, swiftly coiling around the monk and Ji Ming.

“Split up!” Ji Ming shouted to the monk. With a flick, he shrank his body, spun away, and hurled a bone bead at the serpent binding the monk.

Freed, the monk gave Ji Ming a deep look, then fled in another direction.

“A small spell of will!” The man in the scarlet helm grew more excited, a bloody fissure opening on his forehead, from which crawled a blood-red jade centipede.

“Go, track it down!”