Nettle, also known as scorpion grass, is a kind of wild grass that stings. Its leaves are covered with tiny hairs, and if your skin accidentally comes into contact with them, it will become red and swollen, with a painful stinging sensation. The pain generally lasts for several hours before subsiding.
Was he using this to describe him?
“Take your nettle theory and get as far away as possible.”
Fu Sang had had enough of this overreaching Crimson Evil.
After this, there was another moment of silence.
Fu Sang realized that the situation seemed to have become a bit awkward.
His goal hadn’t been achieved; he’d underestimated how difficult Qi Changying could be.
Compared to cotton, this ghost was more like cotton candy: soft, but sticky, and once you were stuck, you couldn’t shake him off.
This meant that now Qi Changying wouldn’t accept his “shut up and get lost” suggestion, and he wouldn’t lower himself to follow Qi Changying’s “face it together” plan either. One human and one ghost were stuck in this impasse, letting the air sink into a long silence.
Until Wu Renshuai let out an abrupt “Ah.”
Wu Renshuai had been crouching beside them throughout the argument. As the argument that was not quite an argument happened, the little ghost’s bulging eye had been darting between Qi Changying and Fu Sang, trying to gauge their emotions.
Although the little ghost was too slow to speak, he was quite good at reading the room. He stayed quiet when they were angry, but now that the adult and the big ghost seemed calmer, he reached out and tugged at Qi Changying’s clothes, trying to get his attention.
“What is it?” Qi Changying crouched down, meeting Wu Renshuai’s eyes at his level.
“…Ah ah! Go! Come! Ah!”
Wu Renshuai mumbled something vaguely. Perhaps finding that pulling clothes with his hands was not effective, he simply used his mouth to clamp onto the half-chain hanging from Qi Changying’s wrist, trying to drag him in a particular direction, every muscle in his body straining.
“He seems to want to take us somewhere.” Qi Changying looked up at Fu Sang.
“I’m not blind.” Fu Sang’s tone remained cold.
He tilted his chin, “Follow him, let him lead the way.”
Qi Changying said “Alright.”
As he nodded and stood up, his peripheral vision caught the talisman paper Fu Sang had thrown on the ground, and a hint of a smile touched his lips.
Fu Sang hadn’t brought up the matter of exorcism again, nor had he picked up the talisman paper. It probably meant this topic was now closed. Although he hadn’t accepted his suggestion, he hadn’t rejected it either.
That was already very good.
Qi Changying smiled as he gently patted Wu Renshuai’s little head.
Wu Renshuai seemed to understand. He spat out the chain, got up, and trotted a few steps forward, then turned back to check if Qi Changying and Fu Sang were following.
The little ghost was like this the whole way, looking back every few steps, as if afraid the human and ghost behind him might lose him.
They obviously wouldn’t. Although Fu Sang wasn’t very willing, he still followed from behind with his hands in his pockets.
The more he walked, the angrier he got.
He thought he must have lost his mind for giving up the most efficient plan and instead trusting that a foolish little ghost could actually provide him with any useful information.
He couldn’t be angry with himself, so this anger naturally found another outlet.
So, when Qi Changying leaned in to sniff him as usual, Fu Sang gave him one word:
“Scram.”
Qi Changying was taken aback, but then he let out a soft laugh: “Don’t be angry, Fu Sang.”
Fu Sang ignored him.
Qi Changying quietly observed him from the side, then tentatively moved closer, and closer.
This time, Fu Sang didn’t tell him to scram.
Seeing that he wasn’t being chased away even when he was about to touch him, Qi Changying felt completely relieved. Then, he gently raised his hand to encircle Fu Sang’s shoulder from behind.
Before burying his head in the curve of his neck, Qi Changying softly soothed him again:
“…Don’t be angry.”
On this journey, Wu Renshuai had started out walking upright on two legs, but perhaps he had been a savage for too long, it was hard for him to return to civilized ways. After only a few steps, he dropped to the ground and crawled on all fours like a beast, and he was quite fast.
He led Fu Sang and Qi Changying to a hidden cave at the foot of the mountain behind the village.
Although it was called a “cave,” it looked more like a fissure that had somehow formed in the mountain wall. The crack was quite wide, enough for two adult men to walk side by side.
“Ah, ah!”
Wu Renshuai crouched outside the crack, gesturing for them to enter.
Fu Sang wasn’t the type to blindly follow orders.
He stood outside the crack, looking up into the seemingly endless darkness within.
He quietly felt the sensations it gave him, his way of judging if there was danger inside.
But before he could sense anything conclusive, the Crimson Evil beside him suddenly spoke:
“Fu Sang, wait a moment. We don’t know what’s inside yet, it might be dangerous. I’ll go in first and take a look.”
“?” Fu Sang raised an eyebrow slightly.
It seemed Qi Changying wasn’t really asking for his opinion either, because after saying this, without waiting for Fu Sang’s response, he immediately turned into smoke and drifted into the deep darkness with the flowing air.
Some ghosts seemed to be getting more and more arrogant.
What exactly was he taking the initiative for?
Fu Sang felt a displeasure at being manipulated.
But he still stood there.
He waited to see what result Qi Changying would bring back.
Soon, a wisp of smoke drifted out of the crack. Qi Changying returned to his side and told him seriously:
“There’s a very large cat inside. Be careful.”
“?” Fu Sang stepped forward.
‘A very large cat?’
‘How large could it be?’
Fu Sang was quite dismissive of Qi Changying’s adjective “very large.”
So he took out his flashlight, turned it to its brightest setting, and walked straight into the cave.
After entering, all Fu Sang saw was deep darkness. There was no change in light as far as he could see, which meant this place only had one entrance and exit. Apart from the direction he came from, everything else was completely enclosed.
But the strange thing was, after entering this cave, Fu Sang actually felt a wisp of wind blowing from the depths of the darkness.
Saying it was wind might not be quite right either, because the air current carried a bit of warmth, and besides the warmth, there was also a strange, fishy stench.
If he had to make an association, it was rather like the breath of some kind of beast.
Realizing this, Fu Sang finally took Qi Changying’s description of a “very large cat” seriously.
Initially, he thought the inexperienced ghost might have mistaken a tiger or leopard for a civet, but on second thought, felines weren’t artificially bred or created in modern times; they’d always existed. A military general who’d fought and survived in the wilderness shouldn’t have trouble telling a civet from a tiger or leopard.
Besides, given the size of a tiger or leopard, their breath wouldn’t be strong enough to create such a strong draft.
With this in mind, Fu Sang directed his light toward the source of the wind.
A flash of light revealed two eyes, big as copper bells, in the darkness.
His pupils constricted. Fu Sang stepped back two steps, simultaneously taking out a talisman and forming hand seals in one fluid motion. The talisman turned into seven sparks of fire, pinning themselves to the surrounding stone walls. The seven light sources lit up together, illuminating the entire cave!
The moment he saw the full form of the creature inside, Fu Sang had to admit that Qi Changying’s wording was accurate.
It was indeed a very large cat.
The cat’s size was comparable to a large truck. It had a coat of sleek, jet-black fur and was curled up in the cave, its front paws tucked under its body.
With the sudden brightness, it instinctively squinted, and at the same time opened its mouth to hiss a threat at Fu Sang, revealing overly long fangs on both sides of its mouth.
‘It stinks.’
That was the first thought that crossed Fu Sang’s mind.
‘It’s a demon.’
That was the second.
Indeed, non-human species unknown to ordinary people were not limited to ghosts.
After people die, unfulfilled resentments and emotions turn into a strong desire to continue existing in the world. This desire helps the soul leave the cycle of reincarnation and become a spirit walking the earth, which is called turning into a ghost.
And when a non-human life form gains intelligence and spirituality through some opportunity, it turns into a demon spirit, thereafter possessing a longer life and greater power. This is called becoming a demon.
Every kind of life has its own meaning of existence and should follow its own rules. Ghosts shouldn’t disturb the human world, and demons certainly shouldn’t either. Spirit Masters exist to maintain the order between humans and spirits, and to sanction and punish those who break the rules.
Spirit Masters are divided into three paths: the nether path, spirit path, and the heart path. These paths involve guiding ghosts, demons, and humans. Although all are related to spirits and all are called Spirit Masters, each profession is as different as mountains apart. Apart from sharing a common founding patriarch, the three paths of Spirit Masters have nothing in common. Apart from the founding patriarch, no one in the history of Spirit Masters has ever been able to master the skills of all three paths.
In short, Fu Sang had no idea how to deal with this demon.
After all, he was a charlatan, not a demon hunter.
The nether path didn’t study the teachings of the other two paths at all. He didn’t even know what the mechanism of demon spirits was or what abilities they possessed.
But Nether spirits and demon spirits were both spirits. If they could run and jump, they could be killed. As long as you have enough tricks, you didn’t have to worry about not being able to play them to death.
Let’s try killing one.
“…Mew!”
Just as Fu Sang was thinking about how to deal with this big cat, eagerly considering whether to blast it or burn it, a shadow suddenly darted out from the side. It sat down in front of him with its back to him, gesticulating and communicating with the big cat through a mix of “meows” and “ahs.”
It was Wu Renshuai.
Wu Renshuai seemed to be explaining something to the big cat. It was only at this moment that Fu Sang realized Wu Renshuai’s behavior was indeed more cat-like than human.
So this was where he’d learned it.
“Hoo…”
Fu Sang heard the big cat let out something like a sigh.
Then, a human voice echoed through the cave:
“I told you long ago, don’t just bring anyone in here.”
As the words faded, the big black cat before him suddenly began to “dissolve.”
“Dissolve” was truly the right word. Its fur seemed like thick ink dripping to the ground, large patches of black spreading and seeping into the earth. Finally, the massive beast vanished completely, leaving only a young man in a long black robe in the cave.
The man was very tall, nearly two meters, with a slender build, a pointed face, large eyes with sharply upturned corners, black hair and yellow eyes. Though in human form, his features still carried strong feline characteristics, making him noticeably different from a normal person.
The man stood in the flickering firelight, facing Fu Sang from a distance.
In the dim light, after seeing Fu Sang’s features clearly, he seemed slightly startled:
“…It’s you?”
“?” Fu Sang raised an eyebrow slightly, but didn’t respond.
Then he noticed the man’s gaze shift slightly. Following it, he saw that Qi Changying had already taken up a position slightly behind and to his side, looking at the man with a somewhat wary gaze.
“You entered my domain.”
The man’s gaze lingered on them briefly before he stated this with certainty.
“Yours?” Fu Sang raised an eyebrow, repeating the word.
“Mm. Nether spirits can do many things, but creating space isn’t one of them, and that happens to be what demon spirits excel at. You should know this.”
After explaining, the man introduced himself to Fu Sang, “My name is Shou Mo. This is the child I’ve raised. He brought you to see me, so I assume there’s something important. His mind is impaired, and he can’t speak normally. If you have anything to say, you can tell me, and I’ll do my best to cooperate. Compared to violence, I’d rather resolve problems peacefully and amicably.”
Since the man had put it that way, Fu Sang nodded and didn’t stand on ceremony, clearly stating his demands:
“Fine. Since you say the domain is yours, then tell me clearly the reason and purpose for creating the domain, how to enter it and how the people inside can get out. Explain everything. Also, I’m looking for a bone-made magical artifact, of the same origin as this one. Have you seen it?”
As he spoke, Fu Sang raised his hand, magically spinning the bone coin and pinching it between his index and middle fingers, holding it up for Shou Mo to see clearly.
“I’ve seen it.”
No sooner had Fu Sang finished speaking than Shou Mo gave him his answer.
“?” Fu Sang felt his response was a bit too quick and certain.
He suspected Shou Mo might not have even clearly seen what he was holding.
The authenticity of this answer was highly questionable.
“I have indeed seen it, but only once. That magical artifact is different from the one in your hand; it’s a bone ruler.”
Perhaps seeing the obvious disbelief on Fu Sang’s face, Shou Mo explained.
“Where?” Fu Sang asked.
“Inside the domain,” Shou Mo said, turning sideways so Fu Sang could see the scene behind him…
At the deepest part of the cave, a crack about a meter in diameter ran across the ground. In the firelight, Fu Sang could see it was a void so deep it was pure black.
“I know exactly where it is, and only I can find it, but I can’t enter this place.”
Fu Sang felt that, so far, everything this cat said and did was a bit strange and illogical.
He scoffed: “It’s your domain, but you can’t enter it?”
The concept of a domain was similar to a private space. Building a domain could be understood as constructing or buying a house.
Can the owner of a house fail to return to their own home?
Who would believe that?
“Yes.” Shou Mo nodded, apparently not seeing anything wrong with his explanation.
But to make Fu Sang trust him a bit more, he still offered more sincerity and explained the full story:
“The domain encompassing the village that you entered was indeed created by me. But in reality, all I accomplished was the ‘creation’ itself. After that, the source of the domain and the power sustaining its operation were both taken over by that bone ruler.”
“I once established a connection with the bone ruler, and there’s a bit of resonance between us. Although I can’t tell you exactly where it is right now, as long as I enter the domain and share the same plane as it, I can find it.
“Unfortunately, the domain shut both me and the little ghost out. Neither of us can enter.”
“?” Fu Sang’s patience was wearing thin. He really couldn’t stand listening to a cat talk nonsense.
After a long rambling explanation, the conclusion was still that it couldn’t be done, and there was no way to do it.
He frowned, “What’s the use of telling me this? You want me to solve your problem for you?”
Hearing this, Shou Mo seemed to freeze for a moment.
But only for a moment.
Soon, his unusual bright yellow eyes stared intently into Fu Sang’s eyes.
“Yes. This problem does indeed require you to solve it.”
“?”
“Because only you can take us in. Before today, I had many doubts, but just now, the moment I truly saw you clearly, I understood…”
Shou Mo’s tone became solemn, “You’re right. Fate and causality have their own order. Things that seem unreasonable are merely waiting for the clouds to part and the sun to shine.”
“That bone ruler is waiting for you. And so am I.”
