Chapter 44 — The Demon Spirit's Ancestral Court Appears in the Mortal World

The villagers of Zhang Family Stockade crowded forward, and one of them said hastily, "A night watchman has died!" The old man pondered for a moment, then said, "Has the watchman's body been buried? He was most likely a demon; his corpse may undergo reanimation." The villagers of Zhang Family Stockade were startled and hurriedly led the two to the watchman's grave. "He was buried yesterday, Masters..." The old man pointed a finger, and the earthen tumulus cleft apart; a thin-walled coffin rose slowly from the pit and floated in front of the crowd. Thud, thud, thud—one by one the coffin nails popped out of their own accord, the lid flew open, the coffin dropped to the ground, and yet the watchman's body remained suspended in midair, its face obscured by a white banner. The old man and the youth took down the banner, inspected it, exchanged a glance, and nodded in silence. The old man muttered incantations, pointed a finger, and at once the watchman's body burst into flames, turning in a moment to ashes. Many villagers hastily bowed and proffered gold and silver in thanks. The youth hurriedly waved his hand, but the old man said, "No reward for no merit; when merit is done, the reward must be received. Keep it." Only then did the youth accept the payment. The old man asked, "Where does the youth who slew the great serpent live? Who are the people around him?" "He is from Hidden Remnant Village. Beside him are the blind elder and Granny Zhu. Follow the river upstream, and it is over forty li from here." The old man thanked them, and the pair walked out of Zhang Family Stockade and headed upstream. After a few li, the old man sighed. "A man's death is like a lamp going out," he said. "Hall Master Mo's lamp has gone out. That watchman was Hall Master Mo of our Holy Sect. His Natural Innate Art went astray—he used infants for his cultivation. Though death is no more than he deserved, he was after all a Hall Master of our Holy Sect. The one who killed him was probably the Spear Saint, who nailed his soul and body fast together. There are sword marks on the white banner. Before Hall Master Mo met the Spear Saint, he also met her—the Sect Leader's wife." The youth listened in silence. The old man said, "The Sect Leader's wife has always been a dragon that reveals its head but hides its tail, concealing herself away. The experts of our Holy Sect entered the Wild Ruins to search for her whereabouts, and to this day they have found nothing. Who would have thought that Hall Master Mo would encounter her here? Patriarch, this trip has not been for nothing." The youth then spoke; his voice was exceedingly old and vigorous: "After the Sect Leader's wife killed the Sect Leader, she stole the sacred scripture of our sect, the Grand Nurturing Demon Spirit Sutra. She has been gone for forty years, and we have pitifully searched for her for forty years. At last, we have found her." At dawn in Hidden Remnant Village, after breakfast, the alchemist moved the village head to the entrance of the village, set up a small stove, boiled a pot of water, and brewed a pot of tea; then, from inside the village, came the call of the pheasant dragon. "The hen has laid an egg! Mu'er, go to the nest and pick up the eggs." Granny Zhu urged Shen Mu to fetch the eggs. The moment he crawled into the nest, the pheasant dragon thrashed him, driving him running in every direction and pecking him until his head and face were bleeding. This pheasant dragon was ferocious beyond measure—it opened its beak and spat a tongue of fire over ten feet long; its feathers were sharp as swords, and its talons could knead iron into mud. After several rounds of battle with this hen, Shen Mu found he was no match and turned to flee. "Mu'er, don't you so much as have the strength to tie up a chicken?" the butcher said, watching Shen Mu scurry about the village chased by the pheasant dragon, and laughing heartily. Granny Zhu took the opportunity to collect the eggs. Failing to catch Shen Mu, the pheasant dragon strutted back to its nest, only to find its eggs gone; in another fury, it pursued the boy again, hounding him relentlessly. After all the racket, Shen Mu summoned his spirits, brushed off the dejection of his defeat by the pheasant dragon, strapped his butcher knife behind his back, shouldered his sword satchel, added a great iron hammer, tucked a few Origin-Condensing Pills into his shirt, took up the Ximiluo, and left the village in high spirits. Today was his first time going hunting alone. Shen Mu had long looked forward to this day, though the blow from the pheasant dragon had rather dampened his mood. He had no sooner stepped out of the village than he saw an old man and a youth coming toward Hidden Remnant Village, like a pair of itinerant Daoists. They halted at the village entrance, glanced at the village head and the alchemist who were drinking tea, saluted the two, and said, "Might we beg a cup of tea?" The village head raised a brow slightly. "A guest comes from afar—how would I dare treat him lightly?" The alchemist poured tea for the pair; they sat down, the youth facing the village head, the old man standing off to one side. "Is this the boy who slew the serpent?" the old man asked, with a kindly brow and a smile, looking at Shen Mu. Shen Mu was about to speak when the village head said flatly, "Mu'er, none of this concerns you. Go attend to your own affairs." Shen Mu nodded and walked off into the mountains. Once he was far away, the youth opposite the village head spoke, in an extremely aged voice, "We've met before, haven't we?" The village head nodded. "We have." The youth showed a smile. "Of our generation, few are still alive. It is rare to run into you. I am glad." "So am I," said the village head without warmth. The youth smiled. "I've come to see Granny Zhu. Our sect has been without a Sect Leader for forty years. Granny Zhu owes us an account." The village head shook his head. "Once inside this village, one has nothing to do with the outside world." The youth's eyes flickered. "Then I won't go in. Have her come out—I have something to ask her." The village head shook his head again. "She is gone." The old man could not restrain himself and was about to speak, but the youth raised a hand, smiling, "We have waited forty years; no need to rush. Law Enforcement Elder, the Sect Leader's wife is not in the village. Summon the stalwarts and build a manor here. We shall pass the night." The old man bowed in compliance. From the crown of his head a demonic aura drove into the sky, condensing in midair into an enormous "command" character. The youth sipped his tea slowly. After two hours, the villagers of Hidden Remnant Village set down their work, walked out of the village, and raised their eyes. In the mountain forest, colossal, hideously muscled giants were moving through the woods, felling trees as they passed. Four of these giants strained together at every stone statue—and all the statues were Night-Quelling Deities—as they came up gasping; wherever they stepped, rocks were squeezed like mud and oozed out between their toes! The faces of these sixteen giants were flushed red; clearly the statues were immensely ponderous, and even such stalwarts as they could barely bear the weight. The sixteen giants set the statues down with extreme care, placing them at the four cardinal points around Hidden Remnant Village. Before long, another towered ship drew up by the river, and a hundred or more carpenters came ashore. They felled timber beside the village and built houses. An hour later, wooden towers had been raised, complete with all furnishings. The carpenters returned to the ship, brought down gold and silver vessels, pots, bowls, and spoons, then boarded again; the tower ship left the shore and sailed away full of canvas. Then another tower ship arrived, and painters disembarked to lacquer the furniture and the wooden towers. When they finished, they too boarded and departed. Then cam