Volume One: Menial Tasks in Changshui County Chapter Fifteen: The Unpredictability of Life

Cracks like a spider’s web spread across the ground from the blade. The black cat trembled with fear—an eighth-rank was, indeed, beyond its ability to resist. The feline demon turned to flee, but the heavy blade rose into the air and slashed straight toward it.

A sharp cry escaped its throat as the black cat dodged swiftly, yet the blade’s aura still grazed it, leaving a bloody gash on its hind leg. It glared at the village entrance with hostility.

There stood a cold, severe man, radiating menace.

“Director Chen!”

Zhou Cheng saluted the stern man with cupped fists.

“This is the elixir provided by the Great Zhou Dynasty for eighth-rank martial artists. Take it and use it,” Chen Xuanfeng said, drawing a bottle from his breast and tossing it to Zhou Cheng.

Then Chen Xuanfeng turned his gaze to Lin Yi. “Were you beguiled by a demon and then drained dry?”

Lu Jiuzhang almost spat blood at that. Drained dry? He wanted to protest loudly: I’ve always been upright and incorruptible, not easily tempted by seduction! Of course, that was just his inner thought—outwardly, he remained silent, tacitly agreeing. Otherwise, if he explained too much, the matter of the dead fox demon would become difficult to clarify.

Lu Jiuzhang had no intention of revealing his cultivation as a ninth-rank Confucian so soon. If they became aware of it, they would probably strike faster, seeking to eliminate him.

Was Chen Xuanfeng truly the mastermind? Lu Jiuzhang estimated there was a ninety percent chance. Zhou Cheng’s analysis was sound; with so many demons, ordinary Demon-Slaying Division members would struggle to prevail. And Chen Xuanfeng’s delayed arrival seemed all too convenient—perhaps deliberately so. Let the demons kill him, then wipe out the demons afterward, leaving no witnesses. This was likely how his eldest brother, Lu Huaigu, had died as well.

What Chen Xuanfeng failed to anticipate was that Lu Jiuzhang possessed the Kui Star Pavilion, had advanced in rank, and so would not die so easily!

“There are still two demons left. Wait here at the village entrance. Once they’re dealt with, we’ll return together to the Demon-Slaying Division.”

With these words, Chen Xuanfeng leapt away, vanishing into the depths of the village.

…

With a martial artist of the eighth rank like Chen Xuanfeng joining the fight, the two remaining demons were quickly exterminated.

This time, a total of four ninth-rank demons had been dispatched, and none were novices—they were all seasoned demons who had cultivated at the ninth rank for many years.

What a tremendous ploy! This was clearly meant to kill Lu Jiuzhang without fail.

And that woman in the black cloak—who was she? Lu Jiuzhang could not believe she was merely passing by and decided to lend a hand. In this world, there was no such thing as coincidence.

About fifteen minutes later, everyone had emerged from the village. Most were uninjured, merely trapped during the chaos. Only Lu Jiuzhang’s team had suffered catastrophic losses.

Song Tao was dead—carried out on someone’s back, his face pale as ash, no breath left. A living man, sharing drinks and music the night before, was now a corpse.

Death had come so close to Lu Jiuzhang, leaving him uneasy. This failed attempt meant another ambush would surely follow soon.

Upon returning to the Demon-Slaying Division, Chen Xuanfeng gave everyone leave. Toward Lu Jiuzhang, his demeanor showed no obvious hostility.

The eight dead laborers received the standard compensation for their families, and the matter was closed. This was why, when Lu Huaigu had died, his colleagues didn’t come to visit. There was no need—any one of them might fall next time, and they could scarcely care for themselves, let alone others.

For most, life simply went on.

Zhou Cheng, as a Demon-Slaying Guard, lost an arm; his compensation was one hundred and fifty taels of silver. The eight dead laborers’ families received two hundred and forty taels in total. Eight lives for two hundred forty, while Zhou Cheng’s arm was worth a hundred and fifty—almost as much as five lives.

Such was this world. A ranked martial artist’s limb was worth more than an ordinary person’s life.

…

After returning, Lu Jiuzhang’s body recovered somewhat. Though still lethargic, he could at least walk.

Dragging heavy steps, he went to Song Tao’s house. It was much like his own—both worked as laborers for the Demon-Slaying Division, earning similar wages.

He saw Song Tao’s wife—a plain, unremarkable woman.

When she learned of her husband’s death, she nearly fainted from grief. Beside her stood a young child, oblivious to the meaning of his father’s death. The child hovered near his mother, wishing to comfort her but not knowing how.

To Lu Jiuzhang, words of consolation were pointless. With the head of the household gone, their source of income vanished. How could a family survive when its pillar had fallen?

“Sister-in-law, I was a colleague of Brother Song in the Demon-Slaying Division. Here’s a small token of my sympathy.” Lu Jiuzhang produced five taels of silver from his pocket.

“Oh, husband, how am I to live without you?” his words were drowned out by her heart-wrenching sobs.

Silently, Lu Jiuzhang placed the silver on the table and withdrew.

Life is unpredictable—birth, aging, sickness, and death; what is it that we truly seek?

Heavy-hearted, Lu Jiuzhang made his way home.

As he neared his door, he saw a young girl standing there, her hair in two braids, dressed in coarse cloth—very much the image of the girl next door.

“Chan’er, it’s nearly dark. Why are you standing out here? Go home now,” Lu Jiuzhang called out.

It was so cold—he didn’t want the girl to catch a chill.

“I’m fine, Second Brother Lu. I was just worried about you. I heard people from the Demon-Slaying Division went out to hunt demons today, and some died,” Zhao Chan’er replied anxiously.

Seeing him return safe and sound, she was overjoyed.

Changshui County was small; even the smallest rumor spread quickly. When the Demon-Slaying Division went out, many eyes watched—the news reaching Zhao Chan’er was no surprise to Lu Jiuzhang.

“Silly girl, how could anything happen to your second brother? Don’t worry,” he said, ruffling her hair affectionately.

He was fond of this neighbor girl.

“It’s late. Hurry home now,” he urged.

“Er Lang, you’re back? Come over and have dinner at Auntie’s house!” called out Mrs. Zhao from the house across the street, opening her door and inviting him warmly.

“You silly girl, what are you doing out here? Hurry and bring your brother Lu inside to warm up. We’ve just added fresh coal to the stove—it’s nice and toasty!” Mrs. Zhao’s attitude had become increasingly cordial since Lu Jiuzhang entered the Demon-Slaying Division.

In the past, Zhao Chan’er wouldn’t have dared wait at Lu Jiuzhang’s door—she’d have been scolded just for chatting with him a moment longer.

Such was the way of things.