Volume Two: A Season of Troubles, One Twist After Another Chapter 109: A Moment of Clarity, Old Affairs of the Mortal World

Fang Hua took the silver note, tears falling drop by drop onto its surface. She went into the inner room, and after a while, she stepped outside.

Yang Chengzi took two deep breaths, then sat cross-legged on a stool, chanting a calming incantation. After several rounds of the great mantra, Fang Hua returned, breathless, carrying a large rooster.

“Go fetch a knife, and if there’s a red string, bring that too.”

Still panting, Fang Hua nodded, handed the rooster to Yang Chengzi, and went to gather the items.

When the items were brought over, Yang Chengzi used the knife to cut a lock of her father’s hair, braiding it together with the red string like a bracelet woven with strands of red and black. Once finished, he tied it onto her father’s ring finger.

At the other end, a yellow talisman was affixed to the rooster. The once proud and spirited bird immediately calmed, sitting down like a hen brooding over her nest, no longer moving. Yang Chengzi plucked a feather, braided it in the same manner, and tied it around the rooster’s neck.

Then, Yang Chengzi helped her father down and sat cross-legged beside the rooster. Both man and bird were bound by the red thread, as if about to wed, leaving Fang Hua filled with questions.

With a kitchen knife, Yang Chengzi carved two shallow lines on the floor, forming a pattern resembling the Bagua formation. The rooster and Fang Hua’s father were enclosed within the circle, while Yang Chengzi sat just outside, facing her father.

When preparations were complete, Yang Chengzi asked for her father’s name, then asked Fang Hua to sit aside. He closed his eyes.

The room was silent and dark, the dim oil lamp casting a heavy, oppressive atmosphere. Fang Hua wanted to open the door to let in some light, but Yang Chengzi told her not to move, so she dared not disturb the ritual. She sat quietly, watching the unmoving figures of Yang Chengzi, her father, and the strangely obedient rooster.

Unbeknownst to her, as she watched, Yang Chengzi’s spirit seized the life essence of the rooster—a silver-white soul, like a spirit tiger’s essence—grasped it tightly and without hesitation thrust it into her father’s third eye. But Fang Hua could see nothing.

Suddenly, a spurt of fresh blood burst forth. Yang Chengzi clutched his chest but did not turn around.

“Daoist!” Fang Hua called out. Yang Chengzi raised his hand, signaling her not to come closer. Before she could react, her father erupted into a mad scream.

“Ruoshuang! Ruoshuang! Don’t go, don’t go, no, no, no…”

His howls shattered the deathly silence in the room, and hope flickered in Fang Hua’s eyes.

“Father, father, you’re awake? Father!”

“Who are you? Where is Ruoshuang?”

Though Fang Hua called out repeatedly, her father seemed not to hear her. He grabbed Yang Chengzi’s collar, fury blazing in his eyes. Fang Hua dared not interfere, fearing she might disrupt the process.

Despite being grasped by the collar, Yang Chengzi remained calm. “I am Yang Chengzi of Maoshan. At your daughter’s request, I used arts to temporarily restore your consciousness. But your soul is damaged; time is short. There are questions only you can answer.”

These words seemed to drag Fang Hua’s father back to reality. Hearing that this man was a Maoshan disciple, he widened his eyes in disbelief, then looked at Fang Hua, tears streaming down as he cried, “Child, father has wronged you. You have suffered.”

Fang Hua fell to her knees before him.

“Father.” They wept, embracing each other.

“Your name is Fang Wanshan? Who wounded your celestial soul? What truly happened? And what of Fang Hua’s face?”

“Thank you, Daoist, for your assistance. But the grave error is done; it cannot be undone. I appreciate your kindness, but fate is difficult to change. I will bear the consequences.”

“And what of Fang Hua? What wrong has she done to live with a man’s face? Have you never thought of your daughter? If there is a chance, I would help her regain her original appearance, so she might live happier and perhaps find a proper future.”

“This... perhaps she should choose for herself. It is all my fault. I defied the heavenly way for selfish desires. This is retribution, retribution indeed.”

“Do not blame yourself too harshly. You do not seem a man who has abandoned the Dao for evil. Share everything with me. Knowing the truth, I might be able to help her. It may not be as dire as you think.”

Though Yang Chengzi’s words comforted Fang Wanshan, both knew the prospect of turning things around was slim.

Shaking his head, Fang Wanshan looked at Fang Hua with hopelessness in his eyes.

In his twenties, Fang Wanshan had entered the Longhu Mountain sect. Though plain of appearance, he radiated a noble righteousness. Within a few years, he became an accomplished inner disciple, skilled in Daoist arts.

He spent days meditating with fellow disciples and wielded the Supreme Exorcising Sword to slay demons and restore peace when evil forces arose.

Several hundred miles from Longhu Mountain lay Jingzhou, a place rumored to be plagued by a fox demon preying on humans.

The sect’s grand master sent Fang Wanshan and several brothers to investigate. If the rumors were true, they would exorcise the demon and eliminate the threat. Without hesitation, the disciples set out on foot toward Jingzhou.

After several days of travel, they encountered various minor spirits and demons. Fortunately, none posed serious danger. They finally reached Jingzhou and, following local rumors, ascended a mountain called Cuiming.

Using their magical instruments, they found the fox demon’s lair within a day. Together, the brothers eradicated several cunning fox spirits.

With the matter resolved, most disciples departed. Fang Wanshan stayed behind—to ensure no evildoers remained and because his master said his resolve was unstable; he needed worldly experience.

He settled in a village called Zihu in Jingzhou. That stay would alter the course of his cultivation forever.

One and a half months after his brothers left, the village was peaceful. No more fox demon disturbances. Villagers returned to a quiet life.

Just as Fang Wanshan thought his task was done and planned to explore elsewhere for further training, a wounded fox stumbled into his home and collapsed.

Returning from outside, Fang Wanshan found the fox lying motionless, seemingly dead.

As a Daoist, and like Yang Chengzi, refraining from meat, he had no notion of harming the creature. He tore clean cloth into strips and bandaged the fox’s injured leg.

He ate simple fare—wild vegetables with rice—and the fox, oddly, consumed the same. Over time, its wounds healed.

One day, Fang Wanshan cradled the little fox, speaking quietly, “Your wounds are healed. I must leave now. Take care of yourself. Those hunters’ traps are no joke. If you’re hurt again, no one will be here to heal you.”

He bent to place the fox on the ground so it could leave. Unexpectedly, the fox transformed in his arms into a stunning maiden, unclothed, radiating ethereal beauty. Fang Wanshan was taken aback. A fox that could transform—surely a fox demon?

His eyes widened in disbelief. As a Daoist, he had failed to detect this fox’s true nature. A faint aura of demon energy shimmered in his perception, but it was so subtle, almost imperceptible, especially when the fox remained in its natural form.

Fang Wanshan threw his long robe toward her. As the fox demon donned it, the Supreme Exorcising Sword was suddenly drawn and held before him.

“Have you come to avenge your brothers and sisters?” he asked.

“Daoist, I wish to be human. I want to live as an honorable person,” the fox demon replied.

Her words shocked Fang Wanshan. He had never heard of a demon wanting to become human.

“A demon is a demon. If you wish to be human, then end your own existence. Reenter the cycle of reincarnation and perhaps be reborn as a human.”

Though unsure of her true intentions, Fang Wanshan answered her honestly.

A trace of reluctance flashed in the fox’s eyes. She grasped the sword and tried to pull it to her own throat. Remarkably, she took his advice seriously—she was willing to end her life to become human.

This action startled Fang Wanshan. He struck her shoulder with one palm, wrenching the sword from her hands. In an instant, blood spattered everywhere, staining the robe she wore.