Chapter Ten: A Midnight Fright

Nestled deep within a mountain ravine, the temple appeared modest in size. A dim oil lamp flickered beside the entrance, its purpose unclear.

“Thank goodness it’s a temple,” Chen Jiu sighed in relief, then stepped forward and knocked on the main gate.

The knocking had scarcely sounded before hurried footsteps echoed from within. At that moment, a gust of chilly wind suddenly swept through the temple grounds.

The trees outside shuddered and rustled ominously. Chen Jiu felt goosebumps prickle on his skin.

With a creak, the door opened.

A young monk poked out his shaven head, eyeing Chen Jiu with suspicion. “Traveler, are you seeking shelter for the night?”

Chen Jiu offered a gentle smile and nodded. “I lost my way in the ravine, but fortunately stumbled upon this temple. Might I trouble you for a night’s lodging, little master?”

It was only now that the young monk noticed Chen Jiu’s Taoist robes. He pressed his palms together, bowed slightly, and replied, “Amitabha. I’m afraid the temple cannot receive any more guests tonight. I beg your pardon, Reverend.”

With that, he made to close the door.

Chen Jiu’s face fell. If the door closed, where was he to go? Was he to spend the night in the wild, exposed to the elements?

“Little master, could you not make an exception? If necessary, I can pay for a place to rest, no matter how humble!”

Peering through the gap, Chen Jiu glimpsed the temple’s simple interior. There was but a single main hall with a Buddha statue, and two small side rooms, presumably for rest.

But the young monk shook his head apologetically and began closing the door again.

Just as Chen Jiu was about to plead further, someone emerged from the brightly-lit main hall.

“Zhishen, who is this?” the newcomer asked.

“Oh, Young Master Sun,” the monk Zhishen replied, bowing. “This Taoist lost his way and seeks shelter for the night. But since you are here, I—”

Hearing that Chen Jiu was a Taoist, Young Master Sun’s eyes suddenly lit up. He clasped his hands in greeting. “Reverend, my name is Sun Bai. I have some questions about Taoism—would you grant me a moment of your time?”

The young monk seemed about to protest, but the scholar waved him off.

Chen Jiu’s heart stirred. As long as he could stay, all else was negotiable. Besides, he needed to learn more about this place—perhaps this scholarly gentleman might provide valuable information.

He replied with a smile, “Thank you, benefactor. I fear my knowledge is shallow and may disappoint you…”

And so Chen Jiu followed Young Master Sun to his quarters.

…

The guest room was neither large nor small, furnished with a simple bed and an aged desk. A bright oil lamp on the desk cast long shadows across the books.

Sun Bai offered an apologetic smile. “I’ve only been away a short while, yet the dust has gathered. I hope you’ll forgive the state of the room, Reverend.”

Chen Jiu’s expression shifted slightly. “Why did you choose to study in a temple, Master Sun?”

Sun Bai invited Chen Jiu to sit and replied, “We scholars all seek a quiet refuge, far from worldly distractions, where we can truly focus on our studies. That’s why I chose Liugou Temple in these mountains.”

Chen Jiu nodded in agreement.

Sun Bai then began asking questions about Taoism, and fortunately, Chen Jiu’s studies in this area were solid; he answered each query with clarity, earning Sun Bai’s admiration.

At the same time, Chen Jiu picked up a crucial piece of information: two days ago, a series of murders had indeed occurred in the ravine. All the victims were villagers from Willow Leaf Village, and their deaths were horrific—their heads half-devoured.

Rumors in the village spoke of a terrifying monster haunting the mountains.

Yet, judging by the silent Anmin Talisman Chen Jiu carried, there should be no monsters nearby.

After some more discussion, Sun Bai excused himself to rest. It was now nearly midnight; the bright moon hung high, and silence blanketed the world.

Sun Bai instructed his servant to prepare the upstairs guest room for Chen Jiu.

In short order, the servant came bustling down. “Reverend, the upstairs room is ready. Please rest early.”

Chen Jiu nodded, thanked Sun Bai and the servant, and went up.

Once Chen Jiu had gone, Sun Bai shut the doors and windows, extinguished the oil lamp, and prepared for sleep. The moonlight was so bright that the room was clearly visible even without a lamp.

Lying in bed, Sun Bai found it hard to sleep, listening to the wind howling outside.

…

Chen Jiu, of course, had no intention of sleeping. He needed to seize the time to cultivate.

Yet tonight’s events preoccupied him—this Liugou Temple and the scholarly Sun Bai both felt strangely familiar, as if he had seen or heard of them somewhere before.

Bathed in silver moonlight, Chen Jiu closed his eyes, preparing to meditate.

But in that instant, everything changed.

Suddenly, the black Anmin Talisman on his chest flared with ghostly white light and radiated intense heat, as if a burning coal had been pressed to his skin.

Chen Jiu’s expression changed drastically.

For the Talisman to react so, it could mean only one thing:

A monster was near.

And this monster was drawing ever closer to him.

His heart pounded in his chest.

He immediately thought of the brain-eating creature rumored to haunt the ravine.

Suddenly, the wind seemed to surge closer, as if it had already entered the building.

On high alert, Chen Jiu swiftly shouldered his pack, drew his peachwood sword, and clutched five yellow beans in his hand.

“Better to run first!” he resolved.

He opened the door and, illuminated by the moonlight, hurried downstairs.

But as he passed Sun Bai’s room, he noticed the tightly closed door—and from within came the sound of fabric being torn.

Was the monster in Sun Bai’s room?

Chen Jiu’s heart skipped a beat.

What to do? Should he just flee?

Though he had always been cautious, Young Master Sun had welcomed him into the temple. Surely, he could not just abandon him in good conscience.

He froze, staring at the closed door with grave determination.

The demonic aura was pouring from inside.

He pressed a finger to his brow.

“Nether Sight!”

With a peculiar sensation, a vertical eye appeared on his forehead and his vision turned golden.

He saw black miasma seeping from the room, filling the air.

And within, a mass of utter darkness radiated a terrifying pressure.

This monster was far more formidable than the yellow-furred fiend he’d faced before!

Just then, the closed door flew open.

Chen Jiu’s face blanched.

Inside, a gigantic creature, over ten feet tall, crouched in the room. Its body was vaguely human but covered in long, shaggy hair. It turned its vicious, demonic gaze upon Chen Jiu.

Its bluish, wrinkled face looked like withered bark, and its gaping maw bristled with sharp fangs. Its lantern-like eyes glowed red, fixed unblinkingly on Chen Jiu, while its claws gripped scraps of torn cloth.

“Reverend, run!” Suddenly, Sun Bai dashed out of the room.

He brandished a gleaming saber that flashed coldly in the moonlight.

Seeing Sun Bai unharmed, Chen Jiu wasted no time and bolted for the stairs.

But behind him, the sound of rushing wind erupted.

The monster was giving chase!