Chapter Fifty-Four: Song Mu's Plan

Hearing the chaotic answers from the three men, Song Mu couldn’t help but cover his face. With such accounts, who could possibly be believed?

Master Xun, listening to all this, furrowed his brows in concern and asked again, “Where did you encounter the demon beast?”

“In the valley of Eight Mile Mountain. That thing has been lurking there, sometimes running wild onto the hills near us and injuring people,” one of them replied hastily.

Master Xun’s expression remained grim, tinged with helplessness. “In these vast mountains, if it conceals its demonic aura, it will be difficult to find. Your friend—he may already be lost,” Master Xun said. At these words, the men’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

“No, please, sir, you must save them! Lunzi said that when Boss Wu and the others were taken, they weren’t killed, and he still had several talisman papers with him.”

As the man spoke, Song Mu caught a word that piqued his interest and quickly interrupted, “Wait, did you say he had several talisman papers on him?”

The man nodded. Song Mu then turned to Huang Ergé. “Brother Huang, the talisman I gave you—who did you give it to?”

Huang Sige quickly replied, “I gave it to Boss Wu. I saw with my own eyes that he put it in his chest.”

Realizing something, Song Mu turned to Master Xun and said, “Master, the talisman you wrote for me—I gave it to them. Perhaps it might provide a clue.”

Master Xun raised his brow. “Did you mention this before?”

“I tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t listen,” Song Mu replied with a helpless look.

Master Xun exhaled sharply, gazed sternly at the three men, and scolded, “Greed can cloud the mind. Gold can make even ghosts labor. You’re gambling with your very lives!”

“We won’t dare again, sir—never again!” the men wailed.

Master Xun glanced at Song Mu, then, with a flick of his sleeve, stepped away, and in an instant, his figure vanished from sight, appearing on the mountain path.

“I will return soon. Sun Fang, look after everyone!”

With those words, Master Xun disappeared before their eyes. With the strength of a scholar-examiner, he could cover ten paces in a breath; even this rugged mountain road posed no obstacle to him.

“Thank you, sir! Thank you!” the men called out in gratitude.

The three men, seeing Master Xun display such supernatural ability, kowtowed repeatedly, shouting their thanks. Luck had truly favored them today—if they’d waited to report to the authorities, Boss Wu might already have been dead.

Witnessing this, Song Mu felt a surge of indignation. Some people, it seemed, never shed tears until they see the coffin.

Huang Ergé led a few to fetch the physician, while Song Mu and the others returned to their room, unable to rest or read, their thoughts fixed on the incident and whether Master Xun could truly capture the demon beast and rescue the men.

“Brother Song, don’t look so grave. You’ve done all you could. Now it’s up to fate whether they survive until the master arrives,” Kong Zong consoled him.

Song Mu sighed. “I just don’t understand—everyone fears demons, yet they’re drawn to them like moths to a flame. Ordinary folk shouldn’t be involved in demon hunting.”

Kong Zong shook his head. “You are right, Brother Song. But this practice has become a tradition since our dynasty’s founding. It began as a way to help the military root out lesser demons, but over time, it’s become entrenched and hard to abolish.”

Song Mu gently shook his head. “We may not have the power to change this, but the people need to understand the dangers and know their limits.”

Kong Zong looked at him and asked, “What do you plan to do, Brother Song?”

Song Mu smacked his lips but said nothing more. The events at Yangang and now this ordeal had given him much to ponder about demons. An idea had begun to take shape in his mind.

He thought first of “Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio,” those popular folk stories of ghosts and monsters—tales beloved by the common people, many of which he knew well. Yet, those stories often touched on human ethics and sometimes romanticized encounters between humans and demons. If he were to write such tales, he would surely revise the stories of the fox demon and the stone wall, using them to warn people of the cruelty and bloodlust of such creatures.

By using plain language and creating storybooks, perhaps his message would be more easily accepted. Song Mu considered this a good idea; at the very least, it would help people recognize the terror of demons and measure their own strength.

But as a scholar, writing such tales might be frowned upon, especially since scholars now aspired to compose great works of history and philosophy. A collection of supernatural folk stories might entertain the masses but draw the disdain of his peers.

He couldn’t tell if this would harm his reputation. So, after opening his mouth to speak, he ultimately kept his thoughts to himself.

Just as Kong Zong’s curiosity was piqued, a commotion sounded from the courtyard, followed by voices.

Everyone leapt up at once. Song Mu and Kong Zong exchanged glances before hurrying outside.

In the courtyard, Song Mu immediately saw Master Xun, with two men collapsed on the ground beside him.

“Boss Wu! Ergou!” Huang Ergé and Old Huang rushed over at the sound, and upon seeing the two men lying there, hurried to their side.

The scholars in the courtyard, seeing Master Xun return, quickly gathered around and asked, “Master, what happened?”

Master Xun glanced at Boss Wu, then exhaled slowly. “Fortunately, the talisman Song Mu gave him protected them—otherwise, that demon would have killed them. That white weasel was quite formidable. In the end, I only managed to sever its tail—it escaped.”

As he spoke, Song Mu noticed the long, white tail in Master Xun’s hand. The weasel demon truly was white—no wonder it had become a demon.

Master Xun then turned to Huang Ergé and admonished, “Report to the authorities tomorrow. The constables will organize a sweep. I’ll give you a letter for them—this demon beast of the demon general rank is not something you can handle. For now, keep the people away from Eight Mile Mountain. Once a demon has tasted human blood, its ferocity will only grow.”

Huang Ergé and the others thanked him profusely before taking Boss Wu and the injured man away for treatment. Master Xun then addressed the scholars, tossing the weasel’s tail to one of them.

“Though this weasel had just reached the rank of demon general, its abilities were terrifying—it could create illusions of stone walls and beguile ordinary people. Even you scholars would be hard-pressed to resist. Remember: even when you attain the rank of scholar, remain vigilant. Demon generals may appear harmless, but their powers are unpredictable. Especially beware the fox clan, the cleverest among demons; at the demon general rank, they can speak human words and their illusions are most profound, capable of bewitching the mind.”

“You must always be cautious!”

Master Xun thus instructed them, and everyone bowed in acknowledgment. Song Mu, meanwhile, was lost in thought, recalling his previous encounter with the fox demon.

So, a fox demon of the general rank could be that terrifying…