Chapter 119: He Changan Wanted to Kill Someone

For over a month, the young demon would frequently show up at the doorstep, subjecting He Changan to all manner of humiliations, hoping to provoke the seemingly dull man.

He Changan, however, remained perpetually composed, always offering appropriate responses that left no room for the youth to find fault. In a way, he treated these interactions as a different form of cultivation.

Although the youth knew that He Changan held him in contempt, he could not resist the urge to taunt him. Once, he even poked his finger against He Changan’s nose, spitting everywhere while he cursed with great satisfaction.

It was not until the burly elder from the Great Ape clan emerged and slapped the boisterous youth into the air that the nonsense finally ceased.

"You little wolf-cub, if you dare disturb the business of my inn again, I will go and break the legs of your ancestor!" the burly elder stood at the entrance, his voice cold and sharp.

The young demon turned deathly pale. Not daring to breathe a word, he fled in a flash.

For the next two or three months, He Changan was finally left in peace. He spent his time quietly reading and practicing his ancient fist techniques nearly ten thousand times.

As naturally as water flowing into a channel, he stepped into the Ninth Rank of the martial path and unlocked eighteen mysterious acupoints.

Compared to his state before he was crushed by that giant hand, his overall strength had increased more than three or five-fold. He estimated he could now stand his ground against an average Seventh Rank martial artist without falling behind.

Most importantly, he finally grasped the essence of the fist and the spirit of the sword.

The small black sword had also completely refined the soul of the Sky-Swallowing Ape, transforming it into a mass of gray runes inscribed upon the blade.

He Changan had tested it quietly; the power of the small black sword had grown significantly, needless to say.

What surprised him most was that when the sword attacked, a phantom of the Sky-Swallowing Ape would appear. It could manifest as sword energy or take the form of an ape, possessing strength comparable to a Sixth Rank martial artist.

This was truly an unexpected windfall!

It was as if he now had a powerful bodyguard equivalent to a Sixth Rank martial artist by his side.

The only treasure that had not seen improvement was the secret artifact of the ghost path: the Soul-Summoning Banner.

This artifact required the consumption of vast quantities of spectral entities, along with repeated tempering within desolate or Yin-heavy locations.

He planned that once he found a way to leave Linglong Town and return to the northern frontier—where a great war was raging—he would not only find ghosts everywhere, but if he could devour the ghost kings of certain ghost tribes, the benefits would be unimaginable.

He Changan had a vague premonition that in his current state, advancing to the Eighth Rank was merely a matter of a single thought.

However, he was unwilling to break through so easily. He wanted to slow his cultivation down further, to lay a foundation so solid that he would become the true best in the world.

After several days of seclusion in the "Mountain Dwelling Inn" to stabilize his cultivation, He Changan finally reappeared in the town.

He strolled through the narrow blue-stone alleys, eating two baskets of vegetable buns in the morning and a bowl of plain scallion oil noodles for lunch. At dusk, he would return to the inn to share dinner with the burly elder and the old woman, enjoying simple, intriguing vegetarian dishes.

He began to observe this demon town intently, listening and understanding. Of course, he remained a quiet observer, never participating in any conflicts.

After a period of observation, He Changan discovered that Linglong Town was not as pristine, peaceful, or simple as it appeared on the surface.

The town, with its hundred-plus households and over a dozen demon bloodlines, was divided into three factions, each with its own sphere of influence and interests.

The Celestial Fox clan, led by Hu Buyan and the Lady of the Celestial Fox, along with remnants of the Black Tortoise and Dragon clans, formed a powerful "noble circle." These families were the de facto rulers of the town.

The Celestial Wolf, Golden-Threaded Python, and Snake Demon clans belonged to a different stratum, possessing significantly less status, prestige, and control over resources like land and mines.

Then there were the Great Ape and Azure Phoenix clans, who followed the principle of "I do not offend others, and others do not offend me." They were solitary entities, yet their strength and status were transcendent.

Furthermore, to He Changan’s amusement, the town possessed not only a Taoist temple and a school, but even a Buddhist monastery.

The Taoist temple worshipped the Three Pure Ones of the Taoist faith—the clay statues of the Jade Pure, Grand Pure, and Supreme Pure saints.

The school, besides worshipping the Sages and scholars as human academies do, also featured a portrait of a figure with his back turned. He was nameless, meritless, and dressed in an old cotton robe. No matter how He Changan looked at it, he felt the figure resembled the old scholar, Mr. Lu.

However, he never asked Mr. Qingyu about it, and Mr. Qingyu never mentioned it.

The most interesting place was the Buddhist monastery. It housed only a small novice monk—a wild fox who had obtained a great opportunity, cultivated a degree of merit, and taken the old monk of the temple as his master.

It was said that the old monk passed away mysteriously over three hundred years ago. Some suspected the fox had devoured his master whole, refining him into a Vajra relic to compensate for its own innate deficiencies.

Of course, these were all rumors; He Changan simply listened and kept them to himself, never speaking out of turn on such matters.

Generally speaking, the school had the most people, with over thirty young pupils. The Taoists came next, though the one old and one young priest had gone wandering hundreds of years ago and never returned. The Buddhist sect had only the small novice.

Yet, strangely, the Buddhist sect held the greatest power in the town.

It was not just that the temple was a den of iniquity, where giant rats had attained sentience and practiced fasting and meditation; thousands of blood-red bats hid within the temple, sleeping by day and emerging by night to hunt ghosts and grind their teeth, killing with ease.

The support of the Celestial Wolf, Golden-Threaded Python, Snake Demon, and Celestial Dog families spoke for itself.

The small temple was located over a hundred and thirty miles outside the western end of the town, in what was said to be a narrow, deep valley, thick with forests and year-round miasma, a place even the town residents rarely visited.

In short, without knowing the hidden truth, a stranger coming to this town might live there for a decade or eight and never realize it was a demon territory.

He Changan estimated that there were probably only three humans in this place.

One was himself. The other two were the Taoist priests from the small temple, one old and one young, who had vanished without a trace, their fates unknown.

Every evening, the town was at its most vibrant. Smoke curled from every chimney, cattle and sheep returned to their pens, birds settled into the trees, and two or three dozen children played so wildly they seemed to pass through walls and over rooftops.

Unlike human society, which imposed various rules on children—such as not climbing walls, not unroofing houses, and not urinating in public like wild country children—the demon clans showed a tolerance and indulgence toward their young that He Changan could not comprehend.

They encouraged their children to play to their hearts' content after farm work or school, unlike human children who acted like little old men and women, which was dreadfully dull.

Therefore, in the streets and alleys, one could often see groups of young demons, male and female, brandishing wooden sticks and spears in mock combat.

The fights between the children could be brutal, but they were strictly forbidden from killing one another. This was the rule of Linglong Town.

He Changan often saw that young demon who had provoked him so many times being pinned to the ground by a group of older boys, who would smash his face with bricks and spit on him.

After every beating, the youth would lie on the ground for a long time before crawling up, wincing, with a look of utter indifference on his face.

But He Changan watched closely; deep in that youth’s eyes, a flame was burning.

It was a cold mix of hatred, jealousy, unwillingness, fear, cowardice, and resentment.

Whenever he encountered He Changan, or children who were physically weaker than himself, that youth would always step forward to provoke them, striking their faces with half a brick.

Before leaving, he would always spit on their faces, only then wearing a strange, eerie smile as he slowly walked home.

He Changan wanted to kill him.