Chapter Twenty-Six: Fiery Malice

Three days.

Yin Ning had been gone for three days without returning, which left Chen Jianchen uneasy. Could it be that the little white fox had failed and been slain and devoured by the wolf demon? It was not impossible—when matters reached a critical point, too many variables could emerge, and chance events might determine the outcome, sometimes hinging on the smallest detail.

Troubled by these thoughts, Chen Jianchen grew anxious.

He had spent some time with Yin Ning and had developed a fondness for her. In Chen Jianchen’s eyes, Yin Ning was an understanding, polite young girl—diligent in learning, well-read, courteous, and grateful to those who helped her.

Such qualities were rarely found even among the common folk.

Chen Jianchen had agreed with Yin Ning that she would return from the mountain after one day. But three days had now passed, and clearly something unexpected had happened.

What kind of mishap could it be?

Chen Jianchen’s mind was unsettled. Since he had promised to help the little white fox, he would regret it deeply if something untoward had befallen her. It would be a burden on his conscience—a feeling not unlike breaking faith with someone.

…

Dusk.

On the third evening after Yin Ning’s departure, the sky was once again overcast. Layers of leaden clouds pressed low, as if about to transform into a vast, heavy quilt, descending slowly to smother the earth.

Within this gloom, one could not help but feel oppressed.

Chen Jianchen stood in the courtyard, gazing up at the sky, observing the heavens.

“Brother Liuxian, come inside. It’s cold out here,” A’bao called out, her voice clear and crisp as she stepped outside.

Chen Jianchen shook his head. “It’s all right. I’ll just look for a while.”

A’bao fell silent. She knew that scholars had a habit of observing the scenery—flowers, moonlight, falling snow, flowing water, flying birds—they loved to watch, and from these sights, poetry and prose would flow.

A’bao enjoyed listening to Chen Jianchen recite poetry—even if she could not understand, the cadences of his voice filled her with happiness.

This was the hour for preparing supper. From the chimneys of many homes in the village, thin wisps of smoke curled into the dusky air, creating an atmosphere of peace.

Suddenly, a burst of fierce barking erupted from the village entrance, shattering the calm.

The barking was abrupt and violent, as if every dog in the village had thrown back its head and howled at once—a sure sign that something extraordinary had happened.

Chen Jianchen hurried out his gate. He was not alone; many villagers, alarmed by the noise, rushed outside to see what was amiss. In these troubled days, with wolves preying on the countryside, everyone was on edge—few found it easy to rest.

A human scream pierced the air amid the relentless barking.

“A wolf is in the village!”

A frantic shout followed.

Bang, bang, bang—the urgent beating of a brass gong echoed out. The gongs had been kept for times of chaos, to sound the alarm when bandits or marauders attacked. They had long lain unused, but now they rang out with a rapidity like rain on banana leaves.

A wolf had entered the village—could it be the black wolf demon?

Chen Jianchen’s heart tightened. He knew that in recent days, all the village hunters had gone to Maple Mountain. While there were still some strong men left, they were mainly laborers with only brute strength, not skilled fighters. Everyone else was women, children, and the elderly.

“A wolf is in the village?”

At the western end, Zheng the Butcher, who had been made nervous by the dog’s barking, had already rushed out holding a large butcher knife. When he heard it was a wolf, he panicked, turned, and darted back inside to slam his door shut.

This was no ordinary wolf—it was a demon, a creature of dark power.

Zheng the Butcher was certain of it.

Many, like him, bolted their doors in terror, but some of the braver men, tempted by the promise of a handsome reward, grabbed whatever weapons they could—hoes, iron forks, hammers, even kitchen knives. They gathered together and strode out to confront the threat.

Chen Jianchen wanted to join them, but A’bao grabbed him from behind—though she was slight and young, at that moment she showed astonishing strength, holding him tightly to keep him from leaving. Soon, Madam Mo rushed out in distress, calling, “Liuxian, come back inside! A’bao, shut the door!”

Chen Jianchen said gravely, “Mother, A’bao, what are you doing? As a scholar, I must have a sense of honor and righteousness. How can I stand by and do nothing while a beast terrorizes our neighbors?”

Madam Mo, on the verge of tears, replied, “I don’t care! No matter what, I won’t let you go out there!”

By now, chaos reigned outside—fowl scattering, dogs barking, shouts and cries as seven or eight men, weapons in hand, gathered their courage and surrounded a giant wolf.

The wolf’s fur was black as ink, its body massive, as large as a calf. Its eyes gleamed like brass bells, filled with savage light, and as it faced the crowd, it showed a mouthful of sharp, gleaming teeth, utterly fearless.

“Wangcai, go bite it!”

One man called out, ordering his guard dog to attack the black wolf. The dog took a few steps forward, but at a single glare from the wolf, it let out a pitiful yelp and turned tail, fleeing as far as it could.

Cursing, the man shouted, “Let’s all go together!” He raised a thick cudgel and charged in. The others, unwilling to be outdone, attacked at once.

The black wolf, in the center, suddenly threw back its head and howled—a tremendous sound that made their eardrums ring.

Then, like a sneeze, two streams of clear breath shot from the wolf’s nostrils.

As the breath met the wind, it transformed at once into a powerful gale—howling, whirling, whipping up sand and stones in wild confusion.

Caught by this wind, the men could not even open their eyes; those who tried found them filled with grit and dust, stinging and tearing.

“Run!”

Panic seized them all; they lost all courage to fight and fled in all directions.

The black wolf, wild with delight, howled again. But it did not pursue the villagers. Instead, it strode leisurely through the village, head lowered, sniffing the ground, as if searching for something.

Now, it was as if the demon regarded Jingyang Village as its own hinterland on Maple Mountain, wandering at will. The villagers hid in their homes, silenced by fear. Even the pigs, dogs, cattle, and sheep seemed to sense the terrible presence; they lay flat on the ground, not daring to make a sound. At that moment, had the wolf come to devour them, they would not have resisted.

Such was the terror of the wolf demon.

Howling again, the black wolf’s third cry shook the countryside.

Chen Jianchen’s face changed—he could tell that this howl had come from right outside his own door. The demon wolf had come to his home and stopped at his gate.

It was just outside!