Chapter 48 — The Town

In truth, had he ridden the black iron staff through the air he would have gone far faster, but for some reason he had no such plan. His heart felt stifled, and those troubles clung to him, so he preferred to go slowly, hoping to think his heart's questions through to the bottom.

Yet how could a youth like Zhang Qingyue ever think such questions through? Rack his brains as he might, he felt that the teachings of his sect from of old were surely sacred and inviolable, that things were meant by nature to be so and could never be wrong. But then he would think again of what Wan Rengui had said, and it too seemed to hold some measure of reason. Unable to choose between them, he was truly bewildered.

Had it been anyone else — his sixth senior brother, Du Biyan, say — he would have given a sly chuckle and cast the matter aside; after all, I belong to the Canglan Sect, so naturally I heed the Canglan Sect. And had it been his eldest senior brother, Song Dayi, stern by nature, he would never have believed in this so-called heresy from the very root, and would not even have entertained the thought.

It was Zhang Qingyue alone, stubborn at the core beyond all others, who had met a question that challenged his every former conviction, and who must needs ponder it and think it through to clarity.

And so he buried himself in brooding and walked three whole days, yet still could make nothing of it.

On this day Zhang Qingyue suddenly noticed that travelers along the road were gradually growing more numerous. He fixed his gaze ahead, and there at the end of the ancient road stood a small town. It looked modest in scale, but being on this road, it had no lack of people.

Zhang Qingyue's heart lifted, and for a time he forgot his troubles. For three days there had been scarcely a soul on the road; the sight of such a town revived his spirits.

Drawing near, he saw a stone tablet standing by the roadside at the town's entrance, carved with three characters: "Xiaochi Town." That, he supposed, was the name of the place.

Zhang Qingyue strolled in. The hubbub of voices grew steadily louder. The ancient road ran straight through the town; along it stood houses with eaves and a few shops, but more numerous were the peddlers who had spread their wares directly by the roadside. As he walked down the street the cries of hawkers rang without cease — truly a scroll of worldly life.

Walking among the crowd, Zhang Qingyue gradually let a smile appear at the corner of his mouth. When he was small and still living in Liumiao Village, he vaguely remembered scenes just like this. This smoke and fire of the mortal world — compared with the years of cultivation on Mount Canglan — seemed to leave a different savor in the heart.

"Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang..."

Just as Zhang Qingyue was still lost in memories of the past, a thunderous clanging of gongs came from the street ahead and startled him. Then he saw the townsfolk all quickening their steps and hurrying toward a spot ahead, and among them he caught snatches of talk: "Hurry up, the town chief has called everyone together to speak."

"I suppose it's about that business?"

"That's right. They say last night the town chief talked with Headman Li and Scholar Fan the whole night through. I wonder if they came up with any plan?"

"Let's hope they did. Otherwise there'll be no living through these days!"

...

Hearing this, Zhang Qingyue's curiosity was roused, and he followed the flow of people forward. The crowd gathered from all sides, and before long two or three hundred people had encircled a stone platform at the center of the town.

Standing in the crowd, Zhang Qingyue looked toward the middle. The stone platform was about half a man's height and looked fairly smooth. Three men stood upon it — two old, one young. These, he supposed, were the town chief, Headman Li, and Scholar Fan of whom he had just heard.

Seeing that most of the people had arrived, the eldest of the three on the platform stepped forward and waved to the townsfolk below, who gradually fell silent.

When the commotion had wholly died down, the old man looked about him and spoke in a heavy voice: "Fellow townsfolk, you surely know why I have called you here today. Three months ago that demon took up residence in the Blackstone Cave ten li outside town, and from that day it has not ceased to plague us. This past month it has grown worse by the day, coming every night, carrying off no end of cattle, sheep, and fowl. Worse still, three days ago the Wang father and son tried to stand against it over the last cow in their keeping, and were... alas, they were slain by the demon's hand."

A murmur of sighs ran through the townsfolk, and a few cursed aloud. Zhang Qingyue now understood most of it, though he still did not know what manner of creature this demon was.

Then the town chief spoke again: "As chief of this town, I have failed to keep you safe, and for that I am deeply ashamed. Last night I took counsel with Constable Li and Scholar Fan, and we concluded that since this demon is no common thing, we ordinary folk cannot hope to withstand it. Better that we post a notice, inviting cultivators of the Way to come and subdue it. As for the fee, I must ask you all to lend your support."

No sooner had he finished than the townsfolk below began to call out: "The chief speaks sense — we should bring in a master to catch the demon."

"At this rate, we'll all be eaten by the demon soon enough. Who cares about a little money then?"

"Aye, aye..."

Seeing that the townsfolk were mostly in agreement, the three on the platform seemed to breathe easier. The chief said, "That being so, I had Scholar Fan draft a notice last night. Let it be posted." With that he nodded to the young man who looked like a scholar. The scholar answered, drew a sheet of white paper from his breast, on which some writing could be seen, and stepped down from the stone platform to the brick wall standing nearby, where he pasted it up.

The townsfolk crowded forward at once, and Zhang Qingyue went with them to look. He saw that the paper read:

Be it known that a demon, a three-tailed fox spirit, dwells in the Blackstone Cave ten li beyond this town, hiding by day and issuing forth by night to plague us, seizing our fowl and cattle and even slaying our people. Its sorcery is formidable. We therefore invite masters of the Way to rid the people of this scourge. The town of Xiaochi will pay five hundred taels of fine silver in thanks.

Zhang Qingyue saw that it was signed by the townsfolk of Xiaochi, and he heard the people about him voicing their approval. He hesitated. He had half a mind to do this good deed, but the words of the townsman and the chief came back to him — this demon was likely fearsome indeed. His own powers were shallow. That he could not beat the demon was a small matter; but if he were careless and lost his life, and with it the face of his sect, that was a burden he could not bear.

As he stood there wavering, a sudden uproar rose among the townsfolk. He looked up quickly and was startled to see a giant of a man striding in from outside. Wherever he passed, he had only to brush the crowd lightly with his hand, and the people parted to either side like water.

When the giant came near, Zhang Qingyue saw him clearly. He did not look old — twenty at most — with thick brows, great eyes, a broad square face and wide ears; together with his astonishing frame, he gave off an air of fierce might that struck one full in the face.

Among the crowd, the tallest man reached only to his shoulder; he stood indeed like a crane among chickens.

He strode to the wall, read the notice through carefully, and without a word tore it down.