Chapter Nineteen: Feeding the Demon

“Teacher, there is a strong evil presence here, and the number of lives harmed is incalculable. Why does the Imperial Astronomy Bureau under the Great Zhou remain indifferent? Has no one reported it?”
Under the moonlit night, two figures stood atop the waterwheel within the farmstead.
If one looked closely, they would see that each of their eyes was covered with a black veil—one old, one young, both blind.
At these words, the old blind man did not sigh. He spoke calmly, as if stating a fact:
“This is precisely why I chose to remain a solitary cultivator. Founding a sect allows for long-lasting inheritance, but the sect itself becomes both a handle and a lifeblood. Matters within cannot be summarized merely by closing one's eyes and chanting 'the way follows nature.'”
“The heads of those sects, once they reach the pinnacle of their sect, often find their strength stagnates, and many die in frustration. It’s mostly because their position changes what they see and what they must do, leaving little time for cultivation.”
“Even if the Grand Fatekeeper of the Astronomy Bureau could foresee all, he could never attend to every alley in cities thousands of miles away. Not to mention, under the weight of power and desire, the lives of common folk are as insignificant as grass. Why would anyone trouble themselves to report the disappearance of impoverished beggars to the Bureau?”
A flicker of surprise and doubt crossed Jiang Yunhe’s youthful face. He pursed his lips and said,
“The official behind this manor dares to oppress the people so, letting rumors spread and harm more innocents. It is truly hateful.”
Li the Blind silently shook his head. In the moonlight, it could be seen that his frame was slightly hunched. He said quietly,
“To stir up such rumors may not even require gold or threats, perhaps merely a warm meal on a cold night, a bowl of soup.”
“So, Yunhe, hold fast to your own path and cultivate yourself. The powerful figures behind this manor should be confronted by those even stronger. The struggles among mortals are nothing but blood answering blood, generals facing generals.”
“Yunhe, you may act chivalrously, punish evil and promote good, even slay corrupt officials. But matters that stain the imperial court with blood are not for you. Too many threads are entangled, far removed from your path.”
Jiang Yunhe bowed with a fist, “I will heed your teachings, Teacher.”
After a short wait, both blind men seemed to sense the flickering torches in the darkness.
The manor workers, like walking corpses, carried torches across the harvested rice fields.
Just as Jiang Yunhe was about to ask whether Teacher Pei Xiunian had finished his divination, Li the Blind handed him a small bottle.
Li the Blind passed the pill to Jiang Yunhe, neither joyful nor sorrowful, saying, “Give this pill to Pei Xiunian. It will open his meridians completely, and the bloody enterprise at the imperial court will fall to him.”
Jiang Yunhe held the small jade bottle, still hesitating, and finally asked, “Teacher, do you intend to control him with this pill?”
Li the Blind shook his head. Suddenly, an overwhelming aura gathered around him—it was hard to imagine such power emanating from an old man who seemed frail and at the end of his days. He eventually restrained his aura and said freely,
“How could a pill control another? This is merely a gamble—a grand wager that spans centuries, a contest among mortals.”
Jiang Yunhe was startled, clutching the bottle tightly, and once more ‘looked’ toward his teacher, listening as he spoke:

“I know you wish to ask whether you may act. Since this is your path, I will not interfere. Do as you wish.”
Jiang Yunhe nodded gently, about to leap from the waterwheel when she asked Li the Blind,
“Teacher, won’t you meet him yourself?”
Li the Blind shook his head for the third time, his voice calm, “The time has not come.”
With these words, his figure faded into the wind, leaving behind an ordinary sword atop the waterwheel.
Jiang Yunhe offered a solitary bow to the distant night, then picked up the sword and, stepping lightly, leapt into the fields.
The waterwheel in the manor churned up splashes, turning like the gears of a machine.

————

Pei Xiunian did not consider himself the kind of hot-blooded man who would abandon everything for the pursuit of chivalry, yet he still hurried through the manor with Xiao Qin, intending to seek out the “Master Cao.”
The existence of this manor had already surpassed all of Pei Xiunian’s modern understanding.
To flourish so openly in a prefecture guarded by imperial troops and hosting a division of the Astronomy Bureau, there must be a powerful figure behind it.
Now that he had stumbled into this place, whether or not he could wipe out the manor, he had made a formidable enemy. It was best to end this nightmare decisively.
Judging by “Madam Cao’s” strength, she was likely just a creature bred from a few years of dark energy, and Xiao Qin could easily handle her.
The chance of encountering a monster here comparable to the Fifth Realm was slim.
The firelight from the fields drew nearer, and among the workers approaching, few retained any semblance of humanity.
Pei Xiunian quickened his pace; any further delay would attract unwanted attention.
The two soon entered the manor’s main hall—a grand courtyard with layered staircases, various lanterns, wooden furnishings, all as a farmstead should be, save for the emptiness.
Pei Xiunian’s clear gaze swept over the staircases, glimpsing heaps of corpses and stripped skins stacked in the rooms above.
He took two deep breaths and looked downward, his vision piercing the thick stone slabs.
In the basement, he saw a brazier chained at four corners above a pool of blood, and resting in the brazier was a gigantic egg, its heartbeat pounding like a drum.
The light in Pei Xiunian’s eyes slowly faded; after prolonged use, his Heavenly Eye had reached its limit, and he had not yet found the stairs leading below.
Pei Xiunian frowned, “Xiao Qin, that thing is in the hidden chamber below—can you find…”

He hadn’t finished when Xiao Qin pressed her palm against the polished stone slab, her eyes closed for two breaths. A crisp cracking sound followed as a narrow fissure extended from her palm, forming a square entrance like a secret door a few yards ahead.
The door burst open, revealing the hidden staircase.
Xiao Qin stood and said, “Young Master, I’ve found it.”
So, having cultivation really is useful… Pei Xiunian sighed inwardly.
He no longer hesitated and took two steps forward, seeing the huge egg in the blood pool.
Even though he had glimpsed it earlier, gazing directly at it now brought an intense discomfort. He murmured,
“What is this thing?”
Xiao Qin explained,
“It’s a formation that harvests spiritual essence and blood to nurture a demon. That egg is the source of this manor’s evil aura, and the manor is intertwined with it. The egg hasn’t begun to hatch yet—at this rate, it will take a few more years.”
Pei Xiunian nodded lightly, now certain that the manor’s wickedness was manmade, bred by someone in secret for some future scheme.
He could not yet guess what.
What puzzled Pei Xiunian was that Xiao Qin hadn’t been able to identify the abnormalities in the manor workers earlier, yet now she could so easily describe these eerie phenomena.
Was this basic knowledge for cultivators?
There was no time to ponder—the moment pressed. He followed Xiao Qin into the underground chamber.
The thick stench of blood assaulted them. Pei Xiunian frowned and asked, “Xiao Qin, do you know how to break this formation?”
She pursed her lips and said vaguely, “I’ll try.”
Her long sleeves danced as her bright short blade sliced through the four thick chains. The wide brazier lost its support, dropping the jade-like egg into the blood pool.
Moments after it sank, the entire pool began to boil. The sea of blood transformed into a sea of fire, and the cracked giant egg floated to the surface. A tentacle burst from its shell.