Chapter 7: Birds of a Feather

Early the next morning, Di Jiang asked Mr. Wang for some realgar.

Realgar was an essential item for travelers in the mountains. It was most effective in summer for repelling snakes, insects, and rodents, and could also be used to brew wine in winter. Practically every household had it in stock, and Mr. Wang always kept a reserve, so he generously gave her a full bowl.

“Thank you, Mr. Wang,” Di Jiang smiled and bid farewell. She then returned to her room, handed the realgar to Wen Yao, and instructed, “Sprinkle this at the entrance of the Yue Lao Shrine. Wait half an hour, then go inside and tell me what you see.”

“I’ll go right away!” Wen Yao readily agreed and quickly took the realgar up the mountain. Following Di Jiang’s instructions, she sprinkled the realgar into the cracks of the Yue Lao Shrine’s main gate. Soon after, a few cries of pain were heard from inside, followed by rustling sounds as if a fierce battle was taking place.

Patiently waiting for half an hour, she then tried pushing the door open. The previous resistance was gone; she could open it effortlessly.

Upon entering, she noticed a foul smell permeating the temple, akin to the stench emitted by a thousand-year-old fox that never bathed.

“Why is it so smelly?” Wen Yao wrinkled her nose in disgust and began inspecting the temple.

The former Baiyun Temple had three large halls. The foremost hall had been completely transformed into the Yue Lao Shrine, with a statue of an elderly man with white hair and a silver beard seated inside. His kind face and welcoming smile greeted visitors. In one hand, he held a book of fate, and in the other, a red thread. On either side of the shrine’s entrance hung a couplet: “May all lovers in the world become spouses; what is predestined must not miss its chance.” This earnest display made it hard to discern that it was once a Taoist temple.

In the second hall, statues of the Three Mao Ancestral Masters were enshrined: Taoyuan Miaodao Chongxu Shengyou Zhenjun, Dinglu Youjin Zhidao Chongjing Deyou Zhenjun, and Sanguan Baoming Wei Miao Chonghui Renyou Zhenjun.

The third hall was empty except for a meditation cushion. After a thorough inspection, Wen Yao determined—there was no one left in the temple. Even the young Daoists from the previous night had vanished without a trace.

The only evidence suggesting the presence of people was several smoking clay bowls on the table inside the Yue Lao Shrine. Each bowl contained a small portion of noodles in clear broth with perhaps just a pinch of salt. Around the table lay scattered Daoist robes, as if the Daoists had disappeared while wearing them. The temple was deserted, devoid of any sign of life—or even ghosts.

“It seems they were interrupted by the smell of realgar halfway through their meal. Otherwise, in such a poor temple, they wouldn’t have wasted the noodles...” Thinking this, Wen Yao returned to the inn and reported everything to Di Jiang. A smile appeared on Di Jiang’s lips, her eyes reflecting an “I knew it” expression.

“Boss, why are they afraid of realgar?”

“They aren’t afraid of realgar; they just can’t stand the smell. Realgar affects them like Danruo Flower Essence affects you.” Di Jiang smiled.

“...” Upon hearing this, a sense of inexplicable fear crept over Wen Yao. She recalled the unique rotten duck feather odor of Danruo Flower Essence and felt nauseous, vowing never to smell it again...

“What do we do next?” Wen Yao pouted.

“What else? We need to find a way to bring out Priest Yu Ling...” With a confident smile, Di Jiang whispered a few words into Wen Yao’s ear.

Initially stunned, Wen Yao suddenly nodded, “I understand, I’ll go right away!”

After Wen Yao left, it was already noon. Seeing Wu Rui’an still hadn’t gotten up, Di Jiang went to his room to wake him. After knocking several times without response, she grew anxious. Casting a spell, she slipped into Wu Rui’an’s room while no one was around.

“Your Highness?” Di Jiang approached the bed and found Wu Rui’an with flushed cheeks, his body burning hot, unresponsive to her calls. Checking his forehead, she discovered he had a high fever.

Di Jiang immediately sought herbs to reduce the fever from Mr. Wang and boiled them with her own supplies from Taiping Prefecture. Only then did Wu Rui’an’s temperature slightly drop.

Wu Rui’an slept restlessly on the bed all day, and Di Jiang stayed by his side, tirelessly caring for him. Late at night, when Wen Yao returned carrying a large sack, Di Jiang mysteriously pulled her back to her room.

“Boss, you’re amazing! I caught quite a few!” Wen Yao proudly opened the sack, revealing many furry little animals tied together by their legs, each struggling desperately.

“Look, are these the ‘raccoon dogs’ you mentioned?” Wen Yao grabbed one and presented it to Di Jiang, “Following your instructions, I used live chickens as bait in a trap. They’re greedy eaters! They almost overwhelmed my trap!”

“Yes, yes, they’re exactly what we’re looking for!” Di Jiang clapped her hands in delight, “Raccoon dogs, social animals living in meadows, dense shrublands, and reed beds. Short and stout, they love eating chicken and fruits. Just like the ones in the Yue Lao Shrine.”

“What! The people in the Yue Lao Shrine are raccoon dogs?” Wen Yao exclaimed in shock.

Di Jiang nodded, “That old priest is likely a hundred-year-old raccoon dog. If I hadn’t examined closely, I wouldn’t have detected his demonic aura.”

“So what do we do with these little ones? They haven’t gained sentience yet!” Wen Yao puzzled.

“One hill’s raccoon dogs are all interconnected. If I catch the offspring of that old raccoon dog, won’t he come to fight me?” Di Jiang smirked, “Go find an open space, start a fire, shave these creatures, and roast them over the flames. Let their stench waft for ten miles. I doubt that old thing won’t show up.”

“Alright!” Wen Yao readily agreed and fetched a hatchet from the woodshed. She shaved off the fur of these raccoon dogs, leaving only the fur on their limbs and heads intact.

Wen Yao slung several raccoon dogs over her shoulder and picked up a pile of fur before exiting the inn once more. This time, Di Jiang followed behind, ready to confront the old raccoon dog, Yu Ling.

With a few raccoon dogs in tow, they found a high ground and lit a bonfire. According to Di Jiang’s instructions, Wen Yao occasionally threw some fur into the flames.

As the wood crackled and popped in the fire, it became the only sound in the pitch-black night. The acrid smell of burnt fur irritated their eyes, but still, nothing stirred in the bushes.

“Boss, it’s almost burned up, what do we do?” Wen Yao asked.

“Hmm... It seems we weren’t harsh enough.” Di Jiang thought for a moment, then walked over to the raccoon dogs with a smile, saying, “Quick, scream, cry loudly!”

The raccoon dogs stared wide-eyed at Di Jiang, clearly understanding her words but too frightened to make a sound.

“Cry or not? If you don’t, I’ll throw you into the fire to roast!” Di Jiang lifted one by its hind leg, pretending to toss it into the fire. Finally, they reacted, wailing in succession.

“Cheep cheep—chirp chirp—”

Their piercing cries broke the silence of the night. Almost instantly, a massive shadow leaped out from the bushes, hidden in the darkness like a wild boar covered in long hair.

The shadow lunged toward Di Jiang, moving clumsily and stiffly. Effortlessly dodging, Di Jiang heard a dull thud as it collided with a stone, dazing itself unconscious.

Di Jiang and Wen Yao approached and examined it closely. They discovered it was a pure white raccoon dog, with two whiskers on its upper lip identical to Priest Yu Ling from the Yue Lao Shrine.

“Tie it up.” After Di Jiang spoke, Wen Yao immediately set to work.

After binding the old raccoon dog tightly like a dumpling, Di Jiang kicked its emaciated belly, threatening, “Priest Yu Ling, if you pretend to be dead, I’ll throw you into the fire...”

As soon as Di Jiang finished speaking, Yu Ling groaned, rolled over, and weakly opened his eyes. Upon seeing Di Jiang holding his great-great-great-grandchild, his pupils contracted, and he cried out, “Mercy, Grandmistress! They’re just children! They don’t know anything! If there’s debt, take it out on me!”

“Go ahead, am I full and idle enough to commit murder?” Di Jiang sneered, “Of course, I’m not afraid of committing murder either. For Zhong Xu, I wouldn’t hesitate to break my vow of non-violence...”

“Tell us! Where did you put Zhong Xu? Did you kill him?” Wen Yao slapped the old priest’s face.

Terrified by Wen Yao’s angry shout, Priest Yu Ling prostrated himself on the ground, crying, “Innocent! I didn’t kill Zhong Xu! I haven’t done anything wrong!”

Wen Yao and Di Jiang exchanged glances. They now understood that this old raccoon dog Yu Ling was merely a century-old creature with negligible powers, utterly insignificant.

Di Jiang cleared her throat and said, “Where is Zhong Xu now? Why did you pretend not to know him?”

“Because... because I was afraid you came to collect debts, so I didn’t dare admit it!”

“Debts? What debts?” Di Jiang frowned, puzzled.

“Half a year ago, a mischievous Daoist apprentice from Baiyun Temple liked to gamble in town, accumulating a huge debt before running away. But those gamblers targeted our Baiyun Temple, harassing us daily and occasionally dragging people out for beatings. Within half a year, Baiyun Temple was deserted.”

“And Zhong Xu?”

“I... I don’t know...”

“Really don’t know?” Di Jiang narrowed her eyes.

“Really don’t know!” Priest Yu Ling clenched his teeth, seemingly determined not to speak the truth.

“Alas...” Di Jiang sighed, “Then there’s no other way.”

Saying this, Di Jiang picked up a raccoon dog and headed towards the fire.

“Wait!” Seeing his great-great-great-grandchild about to be thrown into the fire, the old raccoon dog finally spoke, “I’ll tell! I’ll tell, alright?”

“Then hurry up!” Wen Yao glared menacingly.

“Daoist Zhong Xu... is at Hualing Pool.”

“Hualing Pool?” Di Jiang tensed internally, feeling that the name alone didn’t sound like a good place.

Sure enough, the next moment, he continued, “It’s the location of Baiyun Temple’s millennium-old sword tomb. Inside, Daoist Zhong... seems...”

“Seems what? Don’t stutter! If you don’t want it strangled, speak up quickly!” Di Jiang tightened her grip on the small raccoon dog’s throat, eliciting a sharp cry.

“No, no! I’ll tell you everything, leave nothing out!” Yu Ling panicked, quickly blurting out, “Daoist Zhong Xu didn’t wish for eternal servitude to the sword spirit, so he went to Hualing Altar to communicate with the sword deity. I haven’t heard from him for a long time. He might be critically injured or already deceased!”

The tight string in Di Jiang’s mind snapped. She couldn’t hear what he said earlier, only catching a few words: Daoist Zhong Xu has already perished...