Chapter 8: Spirit Tea, The Test Mouse

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At night, Ji Ming remained utterly still.

A bat as large as a basin and a great owl—an ancient term for an owl—emerged nimbly from the shadowy dusk, landing within his field of vision.

The black bat, without so much as glancing his way, hurriedly dove through a gap in the roof tiles. The great owl, however, turned its head to scrutinize him for a moment, but it too soon lost interest, its attention drawn away by the commotion within the temple.

Ji Ming nervously twisted his crow’s head, exhaling in secret relief, and lowered his gaze once more to observe the happenings inside.

At this moment, Lord Clay was enthusiastically introducing a severed, mummified corpse he’d just withdrawn from his potbelly to the gathering throng of monsters.

Beside the corpse cowered the mortal who had been abducted, shrinking against the wall. This pitiful soul alternated between forced, trembling smiles and silent, tearful sobs, his eyes entirely devoid of light—teetering on the verge of madness.

Ji Ming scoffed inwardly at the sight. It was obvious Lord Clay was simply reenacting the previous spectacle in hopes of luring even more monsters to participate and place their bets.

But surely, Lord Clay couldn’t truly believe that everyone shared Ji Ming’s resilience, nor that they possessed a treasure like the “Moist Egg Rebirth” as a safeguard!

Ji Ming had been watching for some time, his aim fixed upon the corpse of his former life.

If only he could obtain this body and once again absorb its demonic essence, perhaps he could swiftly set foot on the path of becoming a true spirit in this lifetime.

At present, with no master to guide him, this was the most promising and expedient method he could see.

Yet… the thought was perhaps too idealistic.

Now, it seemed, Lord Clay valued the corpse far more than Ji Ming had imagined, making his chances of claiming it exceedingly slim.

His gaze drifted from the corpse to Mouse Four, who had been cast out of the temple. Since his first plan had failed, a new one began to form.

Though Mouse Four wasn’t the brightest, his words and actions betrayed some depth; perhaps Ji Ming could glean a thing or two about the world of demons and spirits from him.

With this in mind, Ji Ming grew more convinced and, spreading his wings, melted into the night to set his plan in motion.

…

The moon hung above the western eaves, and the night’s dew was heavy.

A plump rat crept warily through the underbrush, its sleek fur left damp and glistening by the dew.

Mouse Four’s heart was bitter. Ever since losing the protection of Mouse Three, even the path home to the Hu family was fraught with terror.

Overhead, a “black-feathered great bird,” almost indistinguishable from the darkness, circled constantly, swooping low from time to time to skim just above his head.

All Mouse Four could do was scurry forward on his belly, desperately trying to keep out of sight.

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In moments of frustration, anyone might find their mind drifting to unhappy memories.

He couldn’t shake the image of Lord Clay’s ruthless, unceremonious expulsion—the humiliation played again and again in Mouse Four’s mind.

He dug his claws deep into the dirt in fury, savagely tearing up grass roots to vent his anger.

A harsh, grating cry shattered the silence overhead.

Mouse Four couldn’t imagine what kind of bird would make such a sound. Perhaps only the Hu family’s young master, who was versed in the calls of a hundred birds, could say.

The black bird in the low sky stretched its wings wide and dived again.

This time, something was different: clutched tightly in its talons was a bundle of living, furry creature.

As the bird swooped closer, Mouse Four clearly saw its claws open and release the creature, dropping it precisely in front of him.

The thing landed with a tumble on the thick grass, rolling a few times but unscathed—just a little dazed.

Mouse Four eyed it curiously. As it straightened up in the moonlight—yellow fur, small ears, bushy tail—his heart sank.

A shrill squeak sounded.

The creature met Mouse Four’s gaze, and the panic in its eyes was swiftly replaced by cunning malice.

“Disaster! How could I run into a yellow weasel here? I’m as good as dead,” Mouse Four groaned inwardly, overcome with dread.

As the yellow weasel bounded toward him in excitement, Mouse Four cast an illusion, his body swelling several times over until he stood nearly half as tall as a man.

But the yellow weasel was sly. With a twitch of its moist nose, it sniffed out the fear in Mouse Four’s scent and lunged even faster.

Seeing that his bluff had failed, Mouse Four hurriedly removed his round cap, frantically rummaging through its contents as if searching for a lifeline.

Ji Ming circled low overhead, watching Mouse Four’s every move.

He had deliberately dropped the yellow weasel in Mouse Four’s path to see just what this rat was truly capable of.

The weasel darted through the grass, appearing and disappearing in an instant, and before Mouse Four could find his so-called lifeline, it pounced.

The illusion shattered, and Mouse Four shrank back to his original size as the two creatures rolled together, biting and shrieking in a tangled melee.

“That’s enough for a test,” Ji Ming thought.

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A raspy caw pierced the night, startling the yellow weasel into a panic. It released Mouse Four immediately, desperate to flee.

Dazed from the fight, Mouse Four felt the weasel suddenly let go—only to witness a scene that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

A jet-black talon, gleaming in the moonlight, descended without warning, clamping down hard on the weasel’s head, claws digging deep into its skull.

With a sharp jerk upward, the entire head was wrenched free, and the yellow body below went limp and still.

On the outcrop above, a black raptor landed with outstretched wings, one leg gripping the weasel’s head and pinning it to the rock, its piercing eyes fixed on Mouse Four.

“Great King!” Mouse Four bowed before the rocky outcrop.

Ji Ming tossed aside the weasel, picked up a piece of bark, and landed before Mouse Four.

Mouse Four nervously eyed the bark dropped before him, upon which six ancient seal characters were crudely carved—Make a clay tablet.

Seeing Mouse Four read the inscription, Ji Ming knew this rat spirit was indeed literate.

“Great King, is it that you have yet to refine your horizontal bone, making it hard to form speech?” Mouse Four asked.

Seeing the black raptor give a slight nod, Mouse Four relaxed a little, though he secretly wondered at the bird’s purpose in toying with him like this.

The black raptor wanted him to make a clay tablet—it must be for easier communication. If he helped, perhaps he could earn some goodwill.

“Since Great King can write in seal script, there must be scholarly tradition in your family. The Hu family’s Old Master especially favors learned spirits like yourself. If you’d allow me, I could introduce you, and you might earn a cup of spirit tea to dissolve your horizontal bone and speak freely.”

Ji Ming was tempted, but distrust of Mouse Four made him hesitate.

“If you don’t trust me, Great King, I’ll fetch a cup of spirit tea for you myself. Only, when your horizontal bone is dissolved, I ask that you vouch for me before Old Master.”

Ji Ming cawed in approval, clearly pleased.

Mouse Four wasn’t nearly as foolish as he’d first thought—perhaps his brush with death had finally awakened some cunning in him.