Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Wolf Demon

(Today I have to go out again, so I'm posting this chapter early. Please support me!)

For the wolf demon to act so brazenly, swaggering openly into the village, was a most unusual occurrence—once again exceeding Chen Jianchen’s expectations.

It must be understood that for a monster or ghost to awaken spiritual intelligence is a rare and difficult feat, a stroke of great fortune. Thus, by instinct, such beings are extremely cautious, and if their cultivation is shallow, they always resort to secretive means—disguises, confusion, and deception—to absorb human essence and vitality. This is done to avoid drawing attention, lest they alert the practitioners of the human world and bring disaster upon themselves.

That mountain demon donning a painted skin, transforming into a beautiful woman to bewitch Wang Fu, was a prime example of this.

However, though this is the norm, it is by no means an absolute law. There are always exceptions to the rule—when something is abnormal, there is always a cause.

For a wolf demon to rampage through Jingyang Village in broad daylight, utterly unafraid, there must be a reason behind it.

Could it be searching for the missing Ying Ning?

This thought flashed swiftly across Chen Jianchen’s mind. The event made him realize all the more clearly that even among monsters and spirits, great differences existed due to their origins, and one could not lump them all together. Of these, the monsters were the most unrestrained and formidable—not like wandering ghosts, who only dared roam the night, nor like spirits whose range was often restricted, but beings possessing formidable physical forms.

This strength of body was a tremendous advantage, and, combined with intelligence, monsters led the most comfortable lives and enjoyed extraordinary longevity. If fortune favored them and they acquired true Daoist arts, they could cultivate for a thousand years, transcend the ordinary, and become immortal demons.

At such a level, a demon would no longer be a mere demon.

This was not unfamiliar to Chen Jianchen. Ever since discovering that this world was far from ordinary, his imagination had run wild—perhaps somewhere, there existed a thousand-year-old snake immortal like Lady White…

But now was not the time for idle speculation—

Bang!

Crash!

In the next instant, the ferocious wolf demon smashed through the door, its eyes gleaming with murderous intent as it fixed its gaze on Chen Jianchen.

Chen Jianchen stood at the doorway of the inner room, gripping a firewood axe—brandishing a sharp blade, guarding his home. He was the only man in the household; this was his duty, one he must fulfill, regardless of what sort of being he faced. Whether wolf demon or villain, it made little difference.

Madam Mo was already beside herself, not knowing what to do, but A Bao showed a measure of courage. She stood behind Chen Jianchen, her right hand clutching a somewhat rusty pair of scissors. In her heart, the young girl resolved that when Brother Liuxian fought the demon, she would rush forward and stab the wolf’s belly with all her might…

She was not afraid…

Though her calves trembled, she truly was not afraid!

The wolf demon let out a series of low growls, eyeing Chen Jianchen with a look of amusement—an expression no ordinary wolf could ever possess. The average person, if stared at like this, would surely be terrified and flee. Even Zheng the Butcher, who had seen countless killings and was bold beyond measure, suffered nightmares for days after meeting the wolf demon’s gaze, his heart pounding with fear.

But Chen Jianchen was no ordinary man; he could not retreat, not even a single step. Instead, he forced himself to remain calm and collected. Only by doing so could he better respond to changing circumstances—panic and alarm would only hasten death.

In such situations, composure and courage were of utmost importance.

A true scholar remains unmoved even if Mount Tai collapses before his eyes. Such men possess a formidable ability to remain unflustered in the face of calamity—often, this is what saves their lives.

The scholar’s calm infuriated the wolf demon. Its eyes widened, its hind legs tensed, and with a sudden leap, it sprang at Chen Jianchen, jaws gaping in a savage lunge.

“Take this!”

Chen Jianchen swung the axe down with a whistle. He had never learned any formal axe techniques; there was no flourish to the blow.

Bang!

Even while airborne, the wolf demon twisted agilely, and in a flash, its left forepaw landed squarely on the axe handle, tugging hard.

Just like that, it was as if a martial master had performed the “barehanded capture of a blade”—only, the wolf demon used its claws.

The claws were stronger, sharper.

Lacking high-level combat experience, Chen Jianchen lost his grip the instant the wolf demon seized the axe handle; with a twist and a pull, the axe was snatched away.

The wolf demon took a few steps back, then with a flick of its paw, sent the axe whistling out of the yard, vanishing from sight.

Madam Mo and A Bao, witnessing this, were terrified—what kind of wolf could do such a thing? Clearly, this was a demon in wolf’s form!

A wolf, turned demon—was the world truly descending into chaos?

Cackling!

The wolf demon tossed away the axe and grinned—a true smile, though its grinding, metallic sound was harsh and grating.

Thud!

Madam Mo could bear it no longer and fainted to the floor—she was, after all, an ordinary woman.

“A Bao, help your mother inside!”

Chen Jianchen remained steady.

A Bao, deeply frightened, hurried to pull Madam Mo up, half carrying and half dragging her back to the inner room.

The wolf demon, having finished its laughter, began to move again, advancing step by step, its pupils suddenly flashing with two streaks of red light.

A shrill cry burst from the roof—a fox’s scream. In the next instant, a white figure hurled itself down, charging at the wolf demon.

The little white fox, Ying Ning.

As expected, she had been nearby all along.

Roar!

Seeing the white fox appear at last, the wolf demon let out an excited howl, rearing up on its hind legs.

In comparison, Ying Ning’s momentum was sorely lacking; her condition was dire, her immaculately white fur marred by bloodstains—she was clearly injured, and badly so.

Gazing at the white fox, the wolf demon looked as if it were beholding a mouthwatering feast, drooling with anticipation. Suddenly, its nostrils flared, and a jet of black mist burst forth, rushing at Ying Ning.

A spell!

That was a spell!

Chen Jianchen’s pupils contracted—monsters and demons, upon awakening, were innately at a disadvantage compared to humans in two key respects: first, they lacked Daoist arts for cultivation; second, they rarely possessed magical tools. Take the mountain demon, for instance—though its cultivation may not have been much weaker than Qing Yun’s, before the might of a powerful talisman, it was annihilated in a single blow.

Thus, Daoist arts were of vital importance to any practitioner.

Ying Ning had inherited the lineage of the Kunlun sage “One Leaf Knows Autumn,” and along with it, a scroll of Kunlun Jade Purity Incantations. But with so little time, she had not mastered any true spells; instead, the wolf demon had seized her lair and stolen the scriptures. Now, it seemed, had the wolf demon actually mastered the arts within?

Spells… spells…

A sudden flash of insight struck Chen Jianchen. He rushed forward, his hand now gripping the Demon-Repelling Brush.

The brush’s shaft was straight, its tip sharp as a cone—without hesitation, he thrust it directly into the stream of black mist spewed by the wolf demon!