Chapter 64: The Mountain Fiend
January 7th. The eighth day of the twelfth lunar month. Known to the common folk as Laba.
Legends tell of the founding emperor Zhu of the previous dynasty, who, when cast into hardship, scavenged discarded grains and rotten beans to brew a humble porridge. This act birthed the tradition of Laba Porridge, a custom that took deep root in Jin Ling Prefecture—the very place where Emperor Zhu established his capital.
As winter deepened, the cold only grew sharper. Though snow had yet to grace Jin Ling Prefecture due to its southern position, the air carried an undeniable chill, growing frostier by the day. At dusk, the northern winds howled, sweeping through the woodlands nestled beneath Purple Gold Mountain in the city’s east. From the heart of the mountain, a damp, eerie mist drifted outward, curling and stretching with the wind’s force, skimming over the ridges like a silent predator.
—
That evening, Chen Yan prepared a pot of Laba Porridge to mark the occasion. The house was quiet, with only him and Little Madam Gu, an atmosphere that some might find desolate.
But Chen Yan had long since grown accustomed to solitude. In his youth, he had only the Old Madam for company, the two of them clinging to each other through the ebb and flow of the years. After she passed, he found himself utterly alone, and there were moments when the silence felt like an abyss.
But now…
His gaze flickered toward Gu Qing Yi, who sat at the dining table, and a faint smile touched his lips.
Perhaps, in some inexplicable way, he had found a semblance of family once more.
Gu Qing Yi scooped herself a bowl of porridge and took a sip, only to frown.
“Not sweet.”
Chen Yan grinned, rose from his seat, and fetched the sugar jar from the kitchen, placing it before her. “Sweeten it yourself.”
A smile flashed in Little Madam Gu’s eyes as she unhesitatingly added three full spoonfuls.
“If you keep eating like that, even if the cold doesn’t kill you, you’ll end up with diabetes,” Chen Yan sighed.
Gu Qing Yi shook her head. “Celestials are immune to mortal ailments.”
“And how long does a Celestial live?”
“Long enough for your bones to turn to dust.”
“We cremate bodies here. Takes mere moments to turn to dust.”
“Then long enough for your grandson’s bones to turn to dust.”
“…Can we not have this conversation?” Chen Yan sighed, shaking his head.
Yet, despite himself, warmth spread through his chest.
In the days when the Old Madam was alive, their conversations had been full of nonsense like this—playful jabs, bantering words that held no real meaning but carried the comfort of familiarity. The Old Madam had never been a solemn woman.
To jest so freely with Gu Qing Yi now felt… oddly nostalgic.
“The bridal shop says the dress will take about two weeks to finish,” Chen Yan said offhandedly. “They’ll try to have it ready before the New Year.”
“Hm.”
Gu Qing Yi kept her head down, face flushed as she sipped her porridge.
After delivering a few well-placed punches to Chen Yan the other day, she had ultimately surrendered her measurements—but not into his hands. Instead, she had taken his phone and given them directly to the tailor.
It wasn’t the numbers that embarrassed her. It was the process—the awkward solitude of measuring herself under the tailor’s instructions, an experience that still made her cheeks burn at the memory.
“I checked the almanac,” Chen Yan continued. “For a ghost marriage, the day must be inauspicious, preferably one aligned with misfortune. Nothing suitable this month. The earliest barely fitting date is next month.” He picked at the side dishes with his chopsticks, speaking as if the matter were of little consequence. “I have plenty of runes prepared. Just need time to inscribe them.”
“Hm.” Gu Qing Yi’s tone was equally detached.
Chen Yan scrutinized her. “You seem… out of sorts.”
She let out a soft sigh. “I’m fine. Don’t overthink it.”
This was the path she had chosen. The result she had always sought. Yet… what girl would ever dream of her wedding being a ghost marriage?
Forcing the thought down, she asked casually, “Are you going back to your hometown for the New Year?”
“Yes.” Chen Yan nodded. “Too many debts of gratitude to repay. And also—”
Before he could finish, Gu Qing Yi’s expression shifted. She lifted a hand sharply. “Quiet.”
The ease in her demeanor vanished in an instant. Without hesitation, she leaped from her chair and sprinted for the door.
Chen Yan blinked, momentarily stunned, before dashing after her into the courtyard.
There, Gu Qing Yi narrowed her eyes toward the east, then sprang atop the villa’s roof with effortless grace.
Chen Yan was about to speak when she beckoned him. “Get up here.”
“…Huh?”
He inhaled sharply and invoked the Command of Evasion, propelling himself skyward to land beside her.
Gu Qing Yi’s gaze remained fixed eastward. Her voice was resolute.
“There’s baleful energy.”
Chen Yan’s expression hardened. He formed a hand seal and channeled his Qi, focusing his sight with Heavenly Eye Qi-Observing Technique.
Peering through the technique’s enhanced vision, he glimpsed the eastern horizon. There, drifting in the sky, a crimson mist—subtle yet ominous, as if formed of congealed blood—was slowly gathering.
“Let’s go.” Gu Qing Yi turned to him, eyes gleaming.
“Uh?”
Before he could react, a soft hand seized his own.
“Wai—!”
A startled cry left his lips as his body was yanked into the air, soaring at an impossible speed.
In the blink of an eye, the villa was behind them.
Another blink—the residential district vanished beneath them.
The wind howled past his ears. The world spun.
—
Beneath Purple Gold Mountain, the forest path lay desolate. At this time of night, in this frigid season, no visitors lingered.
And this particular path was not part of the scenic route—it led deeper, closer to the mountain’s heart.
A lone figure pedaled hastily along the trail, a sturdy husky bounding beside the bicycle. A young woman, a painter by appearance, judging by the canvas strapped to her back.
She had spent the afternoon lost in her art, inspired by the scenery. But as dusk deepened, she had lingered too long, painting well into the night…
And now, she was leaving in haste.
As a painter, she was long accustomed to roaming the mountains and valleys, capturing the spirit of nature with her brush. The life of an artist suited her well.
At this moment, however, the female painter felt no fear—after all, Jin Ling Prefecture was a great city. Though she now rode along a forested mountain path, the scenic area lay not far beyond. In this modern age, there were no true untamed wildernesses near major cities.
Besides, Jin Ling Prefecture had always ranked among the safest places in the nation.
And then there was her large, powerful husky, whose sturdy presence lent her a measure of reassurance.
She pedaled with determined effort, not out of unease, but simply because she longed to return home for a proper meal. Hours had passed in the thrall of her work, and only now did she realize the emptiness gnawing at her stomach.
As she rounded a bend, a shadowy figure appeared at the roadside beneath the trees.
Her heart skipped a beat.
On instinct, she squeezed the brakes and slowed her speed.
Drawing closer, she saw a person crouched beneath a tree. In the dim evening light, their clothing appeared tattered and unkempt.
Judging by the silhouette, it seemed to be an old woman.
Her shoulders trembled slightly, as though she were weeping.
The painter, kind-hearted by nature, hesitated only a moment before glancing at her tongue-lolling husky. Gathering her resolve, she brought the bicycle to a full stop and stepped forward.
“Old Madam?”
The shadow shuddered.
“Old Madam?” she called again, halting three or four steps away. “Are you alright? Do you need help?”
The hunched figure continued to quiver, but now a faint, broken voice drifted through the air:
“I… I am so hungry… so hungry…”
Hungry?
The painter frowned. “Are you lost? Or—”
At that instant, the figure slowly turned.
Wild, tangled hair parted to reveal a twisted, ghastly visage. But it was the eyes that seized her breath—blood-red, gleaming like embers in the dark.
“So hungry… I want meat…”
—
Two figures descended like a storm, halting abruptly upon the earth.
“This is the place. It should be nearby,” said Gu Qing Yi, her voice laced with caution. “I lack the talent for tracking spells, but my senses are rarely wrong. Chen Yan, use your Qi Observation Technique and—hmm?”
She turned, only to find the twenty-two-year-old illegitimate son doubled over against a tree, vomiting uncontrollably.
“Chen Yan?”
“Just… give me a moment! I… urgh!” He waved her off without lifting his head.
Gu Qing Yi frowned. “Too weak.”
Chen Yan rolled his eyes—twenty kilometers covered in less than five minutes, skimming the ground at breakneck speed!
Whose fault was it, really? Was he weak, or was she simply unreasonable?
The last time he was carried through the skies, it was that “kid brother” who hauled him over a hundred kilometers straight out of Jin Ling Prefecture. And even then, he hadn’t been this sick!
Clearly, it was her spellwork that lacked finesse!
“You could at least warn me before you drag me into the air!” he gasped.
“I… I did slow down for you.” Gu Qing Yi, aware of her own fault, softened her tone.
Chen Yan wiped his mouth, only to frown at the grime on his sleeve. His gaze flicked toward his Honored Stepmother.
Gu Qing Yi stepped back a pace, her expression utterly serious. “If you dare use my robes to clean yourself, I will kill you.”
Chen Yan huffed and exhaled sharply. “…So what are we even looking for? What exactly is this baleful energy?”
“I sense a thread of malevolence,” Gu Qing Yi murmured. “It is likely the awakening of an Evil Cultivator.”
“An Evil Cultivator?”
“Yes. A Mountain Ghost, Mountain Fiend, Mountain Imp, or perhaps some other Corrupted Demon. Did you really think all Demon Cultivators were as simple-minded as Gui Geng?”
That stung his pride a little. His manuals covered spellcraft, not bestiaries. These creatures were beyond his knowledge.
“So what do we do now?”
“We locate it and eliminate it. If such a thing has revived, it will surely harm the Sacred Spirits. Moreover… slaying such entities allows us to extract their malevolent Yin Sha energy, which is invaluable for alchemy, talisman crafting, and medicine refinement.”
Gu Qing Yi cast him a glance. “You could make use of it. Ascending from the Origin Stage to the Platform Ascension Stage requires overcoming a Heart Tribulation. Training with Yin Sha energy is crucial.”
Chen Yan hesitated. “Is this thing strong?”
“I can crush it with a single punch.”
That settled it.
Relief washed over Chen Yan.
He activated his Qi Observation Technique, carefully scrutinizing his surroundings. Soon, he pinpointed the direction where the crimson blood-fiend aura was most concentrated.
Gu Qing Yi nodded. “I’ll go in. You wait here.”
“I’m not coming?” Chen Yan asked. “If you don’t need my help, why bring me?”
“Some Evil Cultivators possess innate abilities that make them adept at concealment and escape. If I engage it and it tries to flee, you will be here to intercept.”
She paused, then stepped close to him. Without hesitation, she reached into his pocket and retrieved a blank talisman paper.
Gu Qing Yi focused her intent, a golden light sparking at her fingertip. The energy flowed into the paper, shaping itself into an intricate rune—a tiny figure, imbued with arcane power.
“Take this. If you encounter it and cannot hold your ground, ignite the talisman. I will arrive instantly.”
To be honest, Chen Yan felt uneasy.
Though he had begun cultivating, he was still just a young man of twenty-two, raised in the mundane world.
He had never fought for his life. Never drawn blood. Never faced a true Evil Cultivator.
The closest he’d come to such violence was helping his grandmother slaughter a chicken in the countryside.
But in front of Little Mistress Gu, he refused to appear cowardly. Clenching his teeth, he nodded resolutely. “Fine. I’ll guard the perimeter.”
Little Mistress Gu arched a brow, a smirk playing at her lips. “Since you’ve chosen the path of cultivation, you will face such battles eventually. This is your first encounter with a true enemy—and with me watching over you, you are already enjoying the best possible conditions.”
With a casual wave, she leapt into the mountain forest, vanishing into the darkness.
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation