Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Hunt

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(Sweating, feeling dizzy—I actually forgot today was my daughter’s second birthday. Only after my wife reminded me did I remember. So I spent the whole day with them… Well, tomorrow I’ll make up three chapters. If I don’t, you all are free to give me a hard time!)

Dawn had just broken, the morning light faint, and the rain continued to drift down in fine threads. Yet such a light drizzle could not hinder Chen Jianchen’s journey home. He had resolved to leave Maple Mountain at first light, returning to Jiangzhou.

His mind was made up. Though Ying Ning was reluctant to see him go, she could say nothing more. She invoked the Kunlun Jade Purity Incantation to escort Chen Jianchen and Xiao Yi down the mountain.

It was still early; no one could be seen in or around Maple Mountain. Thus, as Ying Ning rode the mystical tome through the air, she had no fear of being spotted and alarming outsiders or causing a panic.

At their farewell, Ying Ning’s expression was filled with longing. She watched Chen Jianchen depart until he reached a bend in the road ahead. There he turned and waved before continuing on. Ying Ning wished to watch a little longer, but her view was blocked by a large locust tree at the corner.

Chen Jianchen, holding an oil-paper umbrella, strode forward in long steps. After about half an hour, he had already covered half the journey.

As time passed, other travelers began to appear on the official road—mostly commoners heading to Jiangzhou, some intending to buy goods, others pushing carts to do small business in the city.

Suddenly, a thunderous pounding of hooves arose ahead, deafening and earth-shattering, as if a great cavalry force were charging. The sound preceded the sight of the riders, and already an icy sense of murderous intent filled the air.

The urgent galloping startled the donkeys and mules pulling carts. They brayed in panic, trying to bolt for safety, while their masters shouted, whipping and herding them with much effort to bring them under control and quickly move to the roadside, eager to be clear of danger.

—In the Tian Tong Dynasty, horses were extremely precious; only the wealthy or powerful could afford to ride. Horses were costly, and keeping one was a tremendous expense—far beyond what ordinary families could manage. Unlike cattle and sheep that subsisted on grass, horses required beans, egg yolks, and other costly feed to thrive and grow strong.

The cost of these supplies was akin to supporting a middle-class household.

Thus, only landlords or officials owned horses. To see so many horses galloping together could only mean they were government men, and not common bailiffs or constables, but soldiers.

A troop of cavalry appearing so early on the official road was a shocking sight.

Startled, the scholars and common folk alike scrambled to avoid them. “When a scholar meets a soldier, reason cannot be explained,” as the saying goes—a civilian injured by officials or soldiers would have nowhere to seek justice, forced to swallow their grievances in silence.

Among the crowd seeking shelter, Chen Jianchen, too, was puzzled. He watched intently, and before long, a squad of sturdy cavalrymen came into view, their iron-black uniforms betraying their identity even from afar.

The Black-Garbed Guards!

It was the Black-Garbed Guards!

There were more than ten of them.

Weren’t the Black-Garbed Guards supposed to be maintaining order at the Grand Dharma Assembly in Jiangzhou? Why were they out here? Each man rode with his trademark demon-slaying saber at his waist, a powerful bow slung across his back, and a quiver of arrows—altogether giving the air of hunters on the prowl.

Chen Jianchen’s suspicions deepened. Looking closer, he spotted Wu Wencai among them—though he rode behind another Black-Garbed Guard on the same horse.

Wu Wencai, his body hollowed out by wine and women, was already dizzy and pale after such a wild ride, silently cursing his misfortune—he had not anticipated such a hunting expedition.

At the head of the troop rode a man wearing a red-plumed helmet; at his waist hung not a demon-slaying saber, but a treasured sword. The longbow slung across his back was as tall as a man, making him a striking figure.

Beside him rode a monk in a bright red kasaya, round-faced and plump, the very image of boundless compassion.

“Master Liaokong, let me show you the archery skills of this commander!” said the leader. Squeezing his horse’s flanks, he reached behind for his longbow, drew a wolf-tooth arrow from the quiver, and with a shout, bent the bow like a full moon. Thrum!

In a flash, the arrow shot out like a meteor, flying straight toward Chen Jianchen’s side.

Disaster!

With a cry of alarm, the keen arrow struck a donkey squarely, entering through its left eye and exiting through the right, piercing the head through and through. The donkey let out a mournful bray and collapsed dead, leaving its owner frozen in shock, unable to move or speak, clearly terrified.

“Excellent shot, Commander!” came the chorus of acclamation.

Master Liaokong lowered his brows, pressed his palms together, and intoned, “Amitabha, Amitabha!”—but made no other move.

Commander Zhou let out a hearty laugh, slung his bow back over his shoulder, and spurred his horse onward, vanishing in a cloud of dust.

The troop of a dozen or so thundered away like a whirlwind.

Behind them, the dead donkey’s blood flowed freely, and its owner stood trembling, unable to utter a word. Around him, the people sighed softly, not daring to speak too loudly, for fear their voices might carry.

Chen Jianchen slowly unclenched his fists, the tension of the moment easing, though cold sweat trickled down his back—the power of the Black-Garbed Guards was far greater than he had imagined. For Commander Zhou, killing a donkey was mere sport, but for the donkey’s owner, it meant the loss of an irreplaceable source of livelihood.

With the donkey’s death, a pillar of the household was lost.

But who but the owner himself would care? Even if anyone cared, there was nothing they could do.

After a moment’s stunned silence, the travelers hurried on their way, quickening their pace, each fearing that further misfortune might befall them on the road.

When the crowd had dispersed, only the donkey’s owner and Chen Jianchen remained.

The donkey’s owner, face full of misery, was pondering how to transport the carcass home. There was no hope of redress for the donkey’s death at the hands of the soldiers, but at least the meat could be sold or eaten, recouping a little of the loss.

He glanced at Chen Jianchen, startled, and kindly advised, “Young master, shouldn’t you hurry into the city?”

Chen Jianchen replied with a smile, “I’m traveling out of the city to study.”

The man grunted and said no more, deciding it would be wiser to find someone to help move the dead donkey. Whether Chen Jianchen was coming or going had nothing to do with him.

By now, Chen Jianchen had already turned on his heel, heading away from Jiangzhou, retracing his steps back toward Maple Mountain. He had just realized that Wu Wencai and his companions were likely headed to Maple Mountain to hunt.

Now, with the autumn skies clear and the rain light, it was indeed a fine season for hunting.

Their hunt had nothing to do with Chen Jianchen, but Ying Ning lived on the far side of the mountain. Though she was now a spirit and skilled in Daoist arts, plenty capable of defending herself, the Black-Garbed Guards were violent and ruthless. Chen Jianchen could not help but worry, and decided to hurry back to see.

“Xiao Yi, go at once and report this to Ying Ning!”

“Understood!”

The mouse demon leapt out, muttering incantations. Then, in a remarkably human gesture, it pointed a tiny claw and cried, “All things flourish—Earth Escape!”

With a puff, its small body burrowed into the ground and vanished in an instant, leaving only a small hollow in the earth.

This earth-burrowing spell had been learned from Ying Ning. Sensing trouble, the mouse demon did not hesitate to use it to hurry on its way.

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