Chapter 52: Unable to Let You Stay

Although Zhuang Lin’s visit this time had a certain leisurely purpose, it was not without a general plan.

First, he intended to learn about Tao Yuanming’s whereabouts. Although he had already inquired about the origins of the “Way-Seeking Manual” on his last visit, perhaps this time he could uncover more details.

Since he had encountered matters related to the notice, it truly felt like fate’s cruel crossing of paths. Instinctively, Zhuang Lin sensed a connection to the previous incident—besides, it was an opportunity to rid the people of harm!

Though his last visit was hurried, Zhuang Lin retained a vivid impression of the Drunken Wind Pavilion. The food and drink were mediocre, but when it came to gathering news, it was undoubtedly the most well-informed place in Wuling City.

The city was bustling now. While Zhuang Lin still felt a sense of novelty, it was not the startling sensation he had experienced before—as if an unworldly newcomer stepping into a grand garden—but rather a more composed and dignified demeanor.

Upon arriving at the Drunken Wind Pavilion, the attendant at the door warmly greeted Zhuang Lin as he approached.

“Esteemed guest, seeking food or drink? Please, come inside. Manager, a distinguished visitor has arrived—”

Once inside, another attendant promptly took over, offering courteous greetings and escorting Zhuang Lin to a long table upstairs.

After casually ordering some dishes and a serving of millet, Zhuang Lin set down his book box and listened to the conversations within the tavern.

With his keen ears attentive, he discerned many voices clearly despite the ambient chatter.

Disregarding trivialities and bawdy jokes, he caught many rumors concerning the Peach Blossom Spring.

After some time, Zhuang Lin heard talk of matters more pressing to him now. He glanced sideways toward a few men huddled at a corner table.

“Did you hear? Not long ago, the county captain led men to ambush the bandits, but several brave souls lost their lives...”

“Everyone knows that’s no mere bandit gang—it’s clearly a demon...”

“Ugh... hearing this at noon sends chills down my spine...”

“They say half a year ago, during that ambush, Captain Lu injured the demon. Unexpectedly, after lying low for a while, it returned with a vengeance. The so-called master they hired to perform exorcisms took plenty of money, but now that it’s back, another ritual will be as useless as before!”

“Those are all charlatans from the martial world!”

“Did Captain Lu make a move this time?”

“Alas, he’s no help either—he got a deep slash himself...”

“What’s to be done? Can the authorities handle it?”

“Hmph... the government cares little for our lives. How many heroes like Captain Lu are there inside?”

“I think Lu Jing is no better than the rest...”

“I disagree...”

“No? The demon is obviously seeking revenge on him. If he were brave, he’d settle it himself, not endanger everyone else.”

“People say now no one dares venture outside the city after dark?”

“More than that. Hunters who once helped Captain Lu have all met misfortune when venturing into the mountains...”

The voices grew slightly more agitated but remained hushed.

Listening from his seat, Zhuang Lin occasionally frowned. If it were the old him encountering such talk online, he might have typed a few sharp replies. Now, he had no interest in joining the discussion.

“Sir, your dishes have arrived! Here’s pork lard cabbage, steamed lamb, and millet rice...” The attendant cheerfully placed the food on Zhuang Lin’s table. The guest’s demeanor and appearance were distinguished—he must be served with care.

Of course, Zhuang Lin had only visited once before, and no one here recognized him now.

Before the attendant could leave, Zhuang Lin spoke.

“Young man, may I ask you something? If it’s convenient?”

The attendant immediately bowed.

“Whatever you wish to ask, sir, I’ll answer truthfully!”

Zhuang Lin took out a coin worth five cash and handed it to the attendant, whose face brightened with a smile.

“I am a scholar traveling from afar, newly arrived in Wuling with little knowledge of local news. Just now, I saw the government’s notice about bandits nearby, but from what I’ve overheard, there seems to be more to it. Could you tell me about it?”

The attendant pondered briefly before kneeling beside the table.

“Sir, you’ve come to the right person. No one’s better informed about Wuling’s affairs than me.”

He glanced around, then lowered his voice.

“Actually, those aren’t bandits—they’re demons causing trouble. I once saw officials handling corpses outside the city; their throats were torn open, flesh missing in patches—no human could do that. We thought a master exorcist had dealt with it last time, but unexpectedly, it has returned. But don’t worry, if you just avoid going out after sunset, you’ll be safe.”

The attendant chattered on until another patron called for his attention, and he took his leave.

After hearing the attendant’s account and listening to other patrons’ conversations, Zhuang Lin’s expression grew thoughtful.

He was now fairly certain that the so-called demon was the strange woman who had mysteriously disappeared last time.

Perhaps the demon had feared them then and thus did not reveal itself.

Overall, Zhuang Lin judged that the demon’s cultivation was not very profound, but it was cunning and sinister, able to pose a significant threat to ordinary people. Moreover, it had begun devouring souls to cultivate its power—an evil that deserved punishment!

Though not an expert on demons, Zhuang Lin could infer that such creatures harmed humans primarily to “borrow” their spiritual energy—and the method was brutal and primitive: consuming flesh and blood.

Such a practice was addictive, much like a drug.

Once ensnared, escape was impossible.

Pondering this, Zhuang Lin glanced down at his food. The dishes had cooled, the pork lard solidified. He picked up his chopsticks and ate hastily.

Having made up his mind, he resolved not to visit Yu Jingxuan and Zhao Chenyu today. Those meetings would inevitably involve lengthy greetings and farewells, inconvenient for further outings.

Wuling was mountainous, and night fell quickly.

After paying the bill at the Drunken Wind Pavilion, Zhuang Lin took the main road, then turned onto another path leading northeast toward the city gate.

According to the attendant, the demon, having suffered setbacks, rarely harmed people close to the county seat now.

Previous attacks had occurred in the mountains, near the southwestern gate’s mountain pass, and at the Ten-Li Pavilion ten miles outside the northeastern gate.

Zhuang Lin, hearing this, felt a subtle spiritual resonance, roughly discerning the demon’s likely direction tonight.

Thus, his course was clear. Despite carrying a book box, his steps were brisk.

Once outside the city, he quickened his pace, sometimes covering more than ten ordinary steps in a few strides, often passing unnoticed by passersby who glimpsed a scholar briefly before he vanished into the distance.

The Ten-Li Pavilion, as its name implies, was a resting place about ten miles northeast of Wuling City, built for travelers to rest and shelter from rain.

Though constructed long ago, the road had shifted, turning the main thoroughfare into a minor path, leaving the pavilion somewhat desolate. Still, weary travelers occasionally reached it for respite.

When Zhuang Lin arrived, the pavilion’s surroundings were overgrown with weeds. He swept them away with a wooden staff, the cut grass swirling into a corner of the pavilion.

Setting down his book box inside, he noticed scorch marks at the center from previous fires. Seeing the daylight still lingered, he stepped out, returning shortly with a bundle of firewood.

Late autumn nights grew chilly, so lighting a fire was normal—and the flames would draw attention in the dark.

Zhuang Lin was unconcerned about the demon noticing the fire. His spiritual senses far surpassed its; when the moment came, there would be no escape for the creature.

The sun dipped low in the west, dusk deepening. No travelers were visible on the distant main road, let alone near the pavilion.

Clearly, rumors of demons prowling around Wuling had kept people indoors, especially at the Ten-Li Pavilion, which was nearly deserted well before nightfall.

Zhuang Lin circulated the Five Elements energy within him. The Wood element in his liver stirred actively, and the Fire element in his heart flared. He tapped his wooden staff with his finger.

“Whoosh—”

A flame burst forth from the woodpile’s center, quickly igniting the firewood and warming the pavilion.

Seated cross-legged beside his book box on a pile of grass, Zhuang Lin took the sandalwood core he had received from Master Ban in the valley and a small carving knife from his box.

He began carefully shaving the wood.

The dense, hard sandalwood yielded layer after layer of shavings under his skillful hands. Gradually, the wooden staff took shape.

As time passed, the firelight in the pavilion outshone the fading sunset, flickering in the breeze and casting dancing shadows of Zhuang Lin.

The wooden staff increasingly resembled a sword.

On a whim, inspired by seeing scholars in town wearing swords and his own future desire for a “big toy,” combined with recent events, Zhuang Lin decided to craft a wooden sword from the materials at hand.

Lacking any satisfactory immortal technique to wield, and considering the demon, a wooden sword would suffice.

Now seasoned by the teachings of the Hidden Immortal Valley and accomplished in cultivation, Zhuang Lin was deft with his hands. Though the wooden sword would be simple, it would be well-made and naturally fit to wield.

The sun had set, and darkness deepened.

Surrounded by wilderness, the cries of animals increased, and the wind howled, stirring Zhuang Lin’s robes.

He was so engrossed in carving that he paid no heed to the changing world.

Suddenly, he paused and looked up—not because the demon had arrived, but because he saw several figures approaching from Wuling.

Clearly surprised to see fire at the Ten-Li Pavilion, their footsteps quickened as they neared.

“Ah? Someone’s camping out here?” “A scholar?”

Four men arrived at the pavilion, their faces registering astonishment. Zhuang Lin seemed oblivious to them, focused on carving a red wooden sword by the firelight.

The leader appeared pale, as if drained of blood. He carried a large ring-headed broadsword and stepped into the pavilion first, glancing over Zhuang Lin’s book box before speaking.

“Sir, are you a traveling scholar newly arrived in Wuling? Are you unaware of the local rumors?”

Zhuang Lin looked at him carefully. The man was clearly a government officer, though not in full uniform, with a faint official aura.

The other three men were vigorous, one wielding a spear, two brandishing swords, all emanating a rough, chaotic energy—undoubtedly men of the martial underworld.

Perhaps they too sought to eliminate the demon?

The thought passed briefly before Zhuang Lin smiled and replied,

“Rumors? Oh, naturally I’ve heard them. I came specifically to see the Peach Blossom Spring, said to be a refuge for descendants of pre-Qin people. But the night has fallen, and the pavilion is named Ten-Li; the journey is still far, and I am too weary to continue. I planned to rest here through the night.”

One of the men immediately said,

“Do not linger here. Just ahead is Wuling City. There is lodging outside the southeast gate at the harbor. Leave promptly!”

“No, it’s already dark. Traveling at night is too dangerous!”

“Then shall we escort him? That would waste our time and energy!”

“Better to leave him here. Nothing has happened here in days, and likely tonight will be no different. That thing fears us when we guard it!”

The men exchanged words, and the leader nodded, addressing Zhuang Lin.

“Sir, since that is the case, we shall all share the pavilion tonight. Do not venture out alone. Rest assured, I am Captain Lu Jing of Wuling County’s constabulary—not a villain!”

Zhuang Lin was somewhat surprised, studying the man carefully. So this was Lu Jing—he actually dared to come out?