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墨書 Inktalez
The monk, though appearing indifferent on the surface, was actually quite anxious inside. After finishing his meal, he returned to the Ling Family's house to prepare for the impending battle that night.
Knowing oneself and knowing the enemy ensures victory in every battle. Since he was unaware of the enemy's depth, he decided to make thorough preparations. Although the monk seemed carefree, he valued his life greatly. As the saying goes, "While the green mountains remain, one need not fear a lack of firewood."
With a serious expression, the monk meticulously calculated positions as he walked back and forth around the Ling Family's house. Each time he determined a spot, he took out a Vajra Bodhi Seed from his pocket and buried it in the ground. After making a complete circle, he had buried seven seeds in total. Once the last seed was planted, a faint yellow barrier began to rise, enveloping the Ling Family's house. It vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, leaving everything seemingly normal.
The positions of the seven Vajra Bodhi Seeds formed a pattern resembling the Big Dipper, with the Ling Family's house located at its center. This formation was known as Gang Bei Dou Zhen, a defensive array designed to trap enemies.
Some might find this formation familiar. Indeed, its principles were similar to those of the Gang Bei Dou Zhen used by the Qing Zhen Seven Disciples; however, one trapped people while the other ensnared demons and monsters.
Seeing that the formation had taken effect, the monk brushed off the dirt from his hands and walked toward the edge of the village. He sought out a high vantage point to overlook the entire village and realized that its location had clearly been chosen by someone with great insight.
Surrounded by mountains on all sides, with the majestic Daqingshan behind it—commonly referred to as "the back mountain"—the village was flanked by slightly lower ranges known as "the handrails," or more commonly as Zuo Qinglong and Right White Tiger. In front of the village flowed a winding stream that resembled a colorful ribbon adorning its entrance, akin to a Cai Feng soaring through the skies. The undulating Daqingshan behind it created a harmonious balance, protecting the village at its center.
Though small—about a hundred households—the village was oriented west to east, aligning with feng shui principles that emphasize "embracing yin while holding onto yang."
However, it was winter now, and the stream had frozen over, slightly altering its feng shui dynamics. As another saying goes, "A solitary yang cannot thrive; an isolated yin cannot flourish." Just like this feng shui situation where the phoenix was trapped, only Daqingshan remained as a solitary dragon.
With a smile curling at his lips and seeing no one around, the monk leaped down from his high perch in an exaggeratedly flamboyant manner. He slid down through thick snow like an immortal riding a sword—graceful and carefree—though perhaps looking slightly less impressive in appearance.
In high spirits, he placed his hands behind his back like an inspecting leader and slowly made his way toward Zhao Heitie's home.
As another saying goes: when in need, seek out your leader; in this village, that meant finding the village chief.
From afar, Zhao Heitie spotted the monk approaching his home and hurriedly came out to greet him with polite pleasantries. "Master, are you out here enjoying some sunshine and taking a walk?"
The monk sighed deeply in response. "Yes indeed. Just relaxing my mind in preparation for tonight's tough battle. In our line of work, one never knows if they will see tomorrow's sun."
Upon hearing this unsettling tone from the monk, Zhao Heitie quickly asked, "Even Master isn't a match for that monster?"
A sense of unease stirred within him. If even Master’s most formidable defense were to fail, what would become of his life and the lives of the hundred or so families in the village?
The monk answered ambiguously, “Whether this succeeds or not, the safety of the entire village depends on your abilities, Zhao Heitie.”
Upon hearing this, Zhao Heitie realized there was still a chance for a turnaround. His eyes brightened as he leaned closer to the monk and asked, “Master, what do you require? Just say the word. Even if it means exhausting my family’s wealth, I will make it happen.”
The monk looked at Zhao Heitie’s resolute expression with surprise and whispered a few instructions in his ear.
Zhao Heitie hesitated and replied, “Is it really that simple?”
The monk affirmed, “It is indeed that simple.”
As the monk turned to leave, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, painting half the sky red. The setting sun resembled blood, while a few crows cawed noisily as they flew by.
To maintain his focus, the monk began to meditate. Although Zhao Heitie was clever, he was also meticulous. Noticing that the monk hadn’t come to his house for dinner, he decided to personally bring a basket of food over.
Seeing the monk deep in meditation, he didn’t dare disturb him. He set down the basket and hurried back home, feeling as though if he slowed down even slightly, a hungry ghost would devour him whole.
The Blood Moon hung high in the sky, casting its cold light over the tranquil forest.
Among the ancient trees, a shadow moved swiftly through the underbrush. The figure was robust and agile, effortlessly avoiding all obstacles along its path as if it were intimately familiar with this forest. Its movements were free and unrestrained, gliding as if walking on flat ground.
On the shadow's left shoulder sat a stone statue about thirty centimeters tall, cross-legged with two heads grotesquely protruding from its neck. The shadow leaped and climbed with incredible speed. The statue seemed to be fused to its shoulder, remaining perfectly still throughout their rapid journey.
Indeed, this figure racing through the woods was none other than Ling Dajun and his son. However, at this moment, Ling Dajun’s gaze was vacant; his agility resembled that of a mountain-dwelling monkey. He showed none of his usual clumsiness.
On Ling Dajun’s shoulder sat a Two-Headed Monster Baby with a wrinkled smile that appeared bluish-gray. It looked like an ancient bronze artifact unearthed from underground after thousands of years, covered in verdigris and exuding a decayed aura.
In the center of the Ling Family home, a female corpse dressed in a floral robe began to stir. It emitted sharp sounds from its mouth, tinged with an urgent excitement.
The monk stood by the door, glancing towards the depths of the mountains, sensing a figure moving swiftly in this direction.
What was meant to come had finally arrived.
His hand, hidden beneath the wide robe, gripped a string of Obsidian Prayer Beads tightly. Sweat began to form in his palm.
As he approached the village entrance, the previously closed eyes of the Monster Baby suddenly opened. With that gaze, Ling Dajun, who had been running at full speed, abruptly halted, his body twisting to counteract the immense inertia, standing still like a marionette on strings.
The Monster Baby looked around suspiciously. After confirming that nothing was amiss, it commanded Ling Dajun to head straight towards the Ling Family's house.
Dressed in a gray monk's robe, the monk raised one hand to his chest while the other hand continuously manipulated the Obsidian Prayer Beads. Perhaps due to the hazy moonlight, he appeared somewhat heroic, embodying a spirit that could hold back thousands.
Ling Dajun rushed forward without losing his breath. Upon seeing the monk, he stopped at a distance. The Two-Headed Monster Baby opened its eyes to stare at the monk. The monk glanced at Ling Dajun and immediately recognized him as merely a puppet under someone else's control. He then scrutinized the Monster Baby perched on Ling Dajun's shoulder.
Zhu Sheng's head bore eyes filled with gloom and wariness, watching him closely. Yet, its other eye remained shut, as if asleep or trapped in a deep slumber.
"You old bald donkey, are you tired of living? How dare you meddle in your grandfather's affairs? Are you asking for death?" A boisterous male voice echoed in the monk's ear.
The monk realized that this demon was trapped in its physical form and could only communicate through ventriloquism.
Ventriloquism is an art of using air to compress vocal cords and produce sound through their vibrations. Anyone with some skill could master it.
"I love meddling in other people's business! What's wrong with that? If you don't like it, come and fight me! Whoever runs away is the grandson. Do you understand that, grandson? I doubt your intelligence allows for such comprehension; it's truly a waste of breath for me to adopt such an impressive stance," the monk replied with a cheeky grin.
"You... you..." The Two-Headed Monster Baby trembled with anger before coldly retorting, "You refuse to take the path before you and instead choose to barge into hell."
Before the monk could react, it formed hand seals and moved its lips.
Suddenly, the Two-Headed Monster Baby levitated in mid-air. Ling Dajun's previously dull eyes transformed into bright black orbs, radiating an intense bloodthirsty aura from head to toe.
The monk's expression was calm and unafraid, a smile gracing his face as he assumed the stance of the Luohan Fist, waiting for Ling Dajun to attack.
Internally, he felt a surge of confidence; who could match him in hand-to-hand combat? Did they think all those years of practice were for nothing?
Ling Dajun let out a long howl, but the sound that emerged was not a human roar; it resembled the furious growl of a beast. In the blink of an eye, he charged towards the monk, delivering a straightforward punch aimed directly at his face. The force behind this punch was immense, creating a fierce wind. If it landed, the monk's nose would likely be crushed into his face.
Seeing the ferocity of the punch, the monk did not dare to underestimate it. He clenched his fists and crossed his arms to protect his face, then used the Great Shift Technique to pivot back on his toes, leaning away from the blow.
Ling Dajun stomped down hard like a bull seeing red in a bullring, using the momentum to smash his fist against the monk's wrist.
“Bang!”
The sound of bone colliding with bone rang out sharply.
The monk staggered back several steps before regaining his balance. He quickly shook out his hands to alleviate the pain from the recent blow and cursed, “You little brat! No matter what, he’s still your father. How dare you use the Soul Guiding Technique to instantly boost his strength? Aren’t you afraid of the consequences?”
The Two-Headed Monster Baby sneered, “It doesn’t matter if it’s a white cat or a black cat; a cat that catches mice is a good cat. As long as I can kill you, who cares what methods I use? Prepare to die, Old Bald Donkey!”
Fuming with anger, the monk jumped up and down. “Old Bald Donkey? Your whole family are old baldies! All men at forty are like flowers! Where do I look old?”
As he spoke, Ling Dajun swung both fists at him again. Having learned from his previous experience, the monk wisely chose not to confront Ling Dajun head-on but instead danced around him.
“Da Shuai Bei Shou!”
“Nianhua Finger!”
“Great Compassionate Thousand Leaf Hand!”
“One Finger Zen Skill!”
Ling Dajun continuously shifted his techniques, transitioning from palm strikes to finger techniques, and then to agile footwork. Each move flowed effortlessly, creating an unending series of attacks.
Like a butterfly flitting among flowers, he maneuvered through the shadows of his punches with ease. However, Ling Dajun was still a living person, and the monk dared not strike with lethal intent.
"Old Bald Donkey, are you part turtle or something? All you do is run away. If you have the guts, face me head-on!" Two-Headed Monster Baby shouted disdainfully.
The monk retorted, "I'll warm up first, then I'll come back to deal with you. If I don't make your backside bloom, I won't share your surname!"
Two-Headed Monster Baby let out a strange cackle and floated toward the Ling Family house. Seeing this, the monk engaged Ling Dajun in a fierce exchange before using the momentum to swiftly retreat, positioning himself at the doorway just ahead of Two-Headed Monster Baby.
With a smug grin, the monk made a grimace at Two-Headed Monster Baby. The latter's path was blocked, and with a darkened expression, his venomous gaze shot toward the monk like a striking snake.
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