Chapter Sixty-Eight: More Money Needed

Northern ridge of Little Jing Mountain.

The deepest recesses of Yellow Wind Cave.

The Elder of the Yellow Wind, draped in his robes, reclined on a wicker chair fashioned from vine branches, his eyes half-closed, hovering between sleep and wakefulness.

He was exceedingly old.

His fur had turned snowy white, and the flesh on his cheeks sagged loosely. The sight was rather uncanny.

Around the stone platform, a swarm of young yellow foxes scuffled and chattered, filling the air with lively commotion.

Suddenly, the Elder's left eyelid twitched violently. He opened his eyes, and a look of astonishment and suspicion flickered in his murky pupils. The old yellow fox felt a surge of dread, as if something terrible were about to happen—something intimately connected to himself.

Just then, a wild gale swept across the hillside and roared toward the cave, pausing abruptly at the entrance.

As the dust settled, the figures of Daoist Pang and Fang Xiao appeared simultaneously.

Daoist Pang withdrew the whisk entwined around Fang Xiao's waist and said, "Stay here. Don't let a single one escape!"

"Understood!" Fang Xiao replied without hesitation.

He swung his right arm, and the Hundred-Refined Black Iron Spear extended into a long lance. The triangular spearhead, bathed in moonlight, gleamed coldly.

Daoist Pang noticed this and his right eyelid twitched several times.

He strode boldly into the Yellow Wind Cave ahead.

"Who goes there?" a shrill voice suddenly rang out.

A yellow shadow flashed by, appearing with uncanny speed to block Daoist Pang's path.

Without so much as a glance, Daoist Pang swept his whisk forward.

The large yellow fox that had just emerged was sent flying like a severed kite, crashing heavily against the rock wall.

Daoist Pang stepped forward, his figure appearing dozens of paces ahead in the blink of an eye.

He swept past the unconscious yellow fox on the ground, heading straight for the heart of the cave!

Deep within, atop the stone platform, the old yellow fox clutched his vine staff and struggled shakily to his feet.

A sudden gust surged into the cavern, knocking a group of unsuspecting young foxes to the ground.

The old fox fixed his gaze and erupted in fury: "Xuan Pingzi, what brings you here again?"

Though age had nearly robbed him of mobility, the bristling fury in his beard and hair still radiated the imposing presence of a great demon.

Daoist Pang chuckled, resting the whisk lightly on his shoulder. Yet his eyes held not a trace of laughter.

"Yellow Wind Old Fiend, I've endured you for three whole years."

"And I've been waiting for three years!"

"I've only wanted a chance to reclaim my pride—not to prove how extraordinary I am, but to show everyone that whatever I've lost, I will recover with my own hands!"

As he spoke, Daoist Pang’s voice grew sharp and severe, an invisible aura instantly enveloping the entire stone chamber.

All the young foxes present, and even a few larger ones that had just darted out, trembled in fear.

Some even fainted outright.

The old yellow fox asked incredulously, "Xuan Pingzi, have you recovered your cultivation?"

Daoist Pang gave a cold, mocking laugh.

He did not answer, merely cast a sidelong glance at the old fox.

The old fox's eye twitched; his paw tightened and relaxed on the vine staff, again and again.

He said grimly, "Xuan Pingzi, you’re formidable indeed—why trouble an old demon on the brink of death?"

"I thought matters of the past had already been settled."

"Settled?" Daoist Pang sneered. "I once kept a low profile and didn’t want to quarrel with you lot!"

"Did you really think I didn’t know you’ve been colluding with Lord Zikan, the lame old wolf, and the ghost from the Zhen Family Village?"

"Cutting off the incense offerings to my Little Jing Mountain Daoist Temple!"

"That old Zhen, he merely exchanged a few words with me along the road—"

"And you sent your descendants to harass his household."

"Trying to ruin him, destroy his family, and leave him destitute, is that it?"

The old yellow fox’s expression changed again and again.

He had thought Daoist Pang was nothing but a washed-up, lazy dog, easily toyed with by the likes of them.

He never imagined Daoist Pang would have a day to turn the tables.

And now, he was biting back!

But the question remained:

When did things begin to shift?

"Hmph!"

Before the old fox could ponder, Daoist Pang let out another cold laugh. "The old hacks at Qingfeng Temple—you're in league with them too, aren't you?"

The old fox fell silent for a moment, then asked dejectedly, "Xuan Pingzi, what exactly do you want?"

If Daoist Pang knew only of earlier events, it would be nothing.

But now Qingfeng Temple was involved—the waters ran far deeper.

Though the old yellow fox’s days were numbered, he had no desire to ascend to the heavens just yet.

Daoist Pang bared his teeth: "Your life!"

"Xuan Pingzi!"

The old fox could bear it no longer, pounding his vine staff with force. "Consider the monk's face if not the Buddha's. Killing is but a moment’s act. I’ve wronged you, but you’ve vented your anger."

"Let’s do this—I'll guarantee the Yellow Wind Cave lineage will never approach the temple within ten miles."

"And I’ll pay you two hundred spirit stones!"

His heart bled as he spoke.

Two hundred spirit stones—even if not his entire fortune—

These stones had been accumulated painstakingly, one by one.

His very coffin money!

Daoist Pang glanced at him disdainfully, digging his nose with a raised hand. "Not enough."

He declared resolutely: "Add more!"

The old fox’s eyes reddened.

His vital energy surged within, his demon power nearly lost control.

But he held back, again and again.

With trembling claws, the old fox pulled a coarse cloth pouch from his sleeve and threw it to Daoist Pang.

"It’s all here—there’s no more!"

Daoist Pang swept his whisk, catching the storage pouch.

A sweep of his spiritual sense confirmed its contents.

"Smart move."

Daoist Pang stowed the pouch.

His eyes rolled, and suddenly he spun and bent low: "Take one more from me—Soul-Stirring Strike!"

Boom!

A thunderous roar echoed.

The Yellow Wind Cave suffered another devastating attack of poison gas.

But this time, in the cave’s deepest chamber, and deliberately done by a Foundation Establishment cultivator—

The concentration far surpassed previous assaults.

The foxes present had no escape; none were spared.

Even the old yellow fox atop the stone platform was knocked head over heels by the powerful blast.

"Urgh—"

Foxes, large and small, convulsed and vomited, some revived from unconsciousness only to join in retching.

One sturdy yellow fox struggled onto the stone platform and clung tightly to the old fox’s leg, crying out in despair: "Elder, Elder, let’s move out! If this goes on, we really can’t take it!"

"Blagh—"

He promptly vomited all over his elder’s trousers.

The old yellow fox kicked him aside, pounding his vine staff with a resounding thud: "Good-for-nothing, utterly worthless!"

He wished to fight Daoist Pang to the death, but the latter’s silhouette was nowhere to be found in the cavern.

Instinctively, the old fox took a deep breath, but the stench churned his stomach.

He summoned his demon power to forcibly suppress the urge to vomit, and said with defeat, "Move. We’ll move right now."

There was no other choice.

Yet how could the old fox resign himself willingly?

In an instant, a hundred venomous schemes flashed through his mind.