Chapter 4 – In-laws or My Own Family
Lou Jiang, who was right in front of the door, felt his face flush red… Chou Bodeng, draped in an outer robe with his hair down, had clearly just woken up. The skin on his face was so white it was almost translucent, with a faint red mark from sleep pressed into the corner of his eye, like a smudge of rouge applied with a fingertip.
“Immortal Elder Chou,” Lord Liu said, his heart, which had been in his throat, instantly settling back down now that he saw the man was alive. He apologized profusely, “My apologies for disturbing you! My apologies!”
Chou Bodeng glanced at Lord Liu, who had clearly been up all night, then slammed the door shut with a bang, leaving them with a single sentence.
“All of you, just wait.”
…It sounded more like “All of you, wait for death.”
The group stared at the still-vibrating wooden door, stunned for a moment. The saber user, Hong Dao, nearly drew his blade. Lou Jiang quickly reminded him, “Taiyi.” The Hong Dao stopped halfway, then was pushed back into its sheath with simmering annoyance—that number one immortal sect was famous for producing madmen who fiercely protected their own.
Fortunately, it wasn’t long before the door opened again.
Chou Bodeng, now properly dressed with his hair tied up, emerged carrying his broken sword, radiating an aura of low pressure. He ignored the strange looks from the others and walked straight to Lord Liu. “Where’s my thousand taels of gold?”
“Huh?” Lord Liu was stupefied.
The saber user next to him was the quickest to react. “Are you trying to say you solved the problem? Hey, you can’t just scam people like this. Does the great Taiyi Sect have no shame?”
“Mister Fan, let’s hear what Young Friend Chou has to say.”
Daoist Priest Xuanqing, though somewhat skeptical, stroked his whisk and tried to smooth things over.
“Where is Miss Liu now?” Chou Bodeng asked. “Take me to her.”
He spoke with a natural air of command that could be perceived as arrogance, yet it also possessed a strange power that made people subconsciously obey. A stream of masters had come and gone, and Daoist Priest Xuanqing and Lou Jiang were the most powerful cultivators Lord Liu had been able to hire. After they too were left helpless yesterday, he had fallen into despair. He had held no expectations at all when he allowed Chou Bodeng to take over.
Now, a sliver of hope that Lord Liu himself dared not believe in began to sprout.
After Chou Bodeng had everyone moved from the west courtyard yesterday, Lord Liu had placed his daughter in the room closest to the Divine Fu Tree.
When they arrived, the room’s window was open, and a thin branch of the Fu tree reached inside. The room was sparsely furnished, the only decoration being a row of Oracle Maiden masks hanging on the wall. A maidservant came forward to greet them. While the others eagerly asked about A Ren’s condition, Chou Bodeng walked off on his own to look at the masks on the wall.
“The young lady slept through the night and didn’t cause any more trouble,” the maidservant reported excitedly.
“She didn’t have any nightmares either?” Lord Liu trembled with excitement.
“None!”
“Let me see.” Daoist Priest Xuanqing was surprised. He approached to check A Ren’s pulse and then borrowed the Green Emperor Mirror from Lou Jiang to examine her. He let out a sound of surprise. “Yesterday, when I examined the young lady, although she was not tainted with Yin Qi nor had her soul seized by a demon, her mind was shaken and her internal organs showed signs of weakness. Today, her mind is firm, and her soul is stable and at peace. She’s even better off than an ordinary person.”
“You… you mean…” Lord Liu stammered, his gaze turning to Chou Bodeng, who stood apart from the crowd. “Immortal Elder, does this mean A Ren is… is…”
“Wake her up.”
Chou Bodeng examined the masks on the wall one by one without turning his head.
The Shamanistic Nuo Masks belonging to the Oracle Maiden were exquisite. The carving was smooth and delicate, the lines finely polished, and the colors skillfully applied, as if A Ren had carved them herself. They came in four colors—light red, silver-white, golden-yellow, and dark brown—corresponding to the four stages of the Fu tree’s year: flowering, fruiting, ripening, and leaf-fall. The image of the Fu god was rather primitive, not fully anthropomorphized, but its expression was serene and benevolent. Hanging on the wall, it did not inspire fear, but rather reverence and affection.
He had seen something similar before.
Once, at an auction.
It was a deep black, gold-lacquered Shamanistic Nuo Mask, very solemn and beautiful. The eye sockets were carved deep and long.
In the photo shown by the auctioneer, it was hung high on an altar in the shadows of a primeval forest where daylight never reached. The adventurers who discovered it had knelt involuntarily, one of them tremblingly taking a somewhat blurry photograph. The auctioneer was rattling on about its artistic and archaeological value, while theologians and folklorists in the audience argued red-faced over which primitive clan’s belief system it belonged to.
Amidst the clamor, Chou Bodeng met the gaze of the black and gold mask behind the glass, feeling as if he were being watched by an ancient hawk.
It was as if it wasn’t a mask, but a living creature that had been silent for eons.
“Father…?”
A Ren’s eyes darted beneath her lids several times. The onlookers held their breath, waiting. Finally, she opened her eyes. Her gaze, at first scattered, gradually focused as she called out in confusion.
“She’s awake! She’s awake!”
A clamor erupted behind him. Chou Bodeng withdrew the hand that was about to touch a mask and turned to glance over. He saw Lord Liu’s middle-aged, square face covered in a mess of snot and tears and promptly abandoned any thought of approaching.
After calling out once, A Ren drifted back into a drowsy sleep.
“Daoist Priest! Daoist Priest!” Lord Liu, overcome with joy and sorrow, nearly fainted.
“Rest assured, she is merely weak and needs to rest. There is no need to worry,” Daoist Priest Xuanqing comforted him.
Only then did Lord Liu revive, his eyes welling with tears as he pushed through the crowd.
Chou Bodeng’s eyelid twitched, and he warily took a large step to the side.
The move was quite prescient, because the next moment, the portly, middle-aged Lord Liu, crying with the voice of a broken gong that twisted and turned like a mountain road, threw himself towards him. If he hadn’t moved quickly, he would have certainly had his leg hugged. A grown man was kneeling solidly on the ground, his words jumbled. “Immortal Elder Chou! A living god! You’ve saved my daughter’s life, this great kindness…”
“Stop, stop, stop!”
Chou Bodeng’s scalp tingled. He was afraid the man’s next words would be to offer himself in marriage, which would make him vomit on the spot.
With a sweep of his broken sword, Chou Bodeng swiftly stopped Lord Liu from shuffling forward.
“Crying so sincerely won’t get you a discount,” he said, cold and merciless. “If you want to cry, fine. The fee doubles. Two thousand gold, thank you!”
The crying stopped abruptly.
Daoist Priest Xuanqing cleared his throat, stood up, and solemnly bowed to Chou Bodeng. “This old man has lived a long time and has always prided himself on not following the crowd. I never thought I would be misled by worldly rumors. The rescue of Miss Liu is all thanks to Elder Chou. From now on, this old man will remember that hearing is deceptive, but seeing is believing.”
Lou Jiang, standing to the side, was repeatedly examining his Green Emperor Mirror. Hearing the Daoist Priest’s words, the corner of his mouth twitched.
Although he was indeed shocked and had gained a bit more respect for Taiyi’s Little Martial Ancestor, to say “hearing is deceptive” was a bit much… The day Chou Bodeng arrived in Fu City, he had turned the whole city upside down. That wasn’t something an ordinary profligate could do.
“Daoist Priest, to know your mistake and be able to correct it is the greatest good. This character of yours is also worthy of praise.”
Lou Jiang whipped his head around.
One good turn deserves another; such pleasantries were perfectly normal. But coming from the mouth of someone with the surname Chou, it was simply terrifying.
Before he could be impressed for even a breath, he heard Chou Bodeng change his tune.
“That’s much better than certain empty-headed individuals who only know how to act rashly.” Chou Bodeng smiled at the saber user. “If you ask me, a person should know their own limits. If you take on a job you can’t handle, you should just climb over the wall and run away in the middle of the night to save face.”
Lou Jiang and Daoist Priest Xuanqing, who had also taken the job and failed, were speechless.
Sure enough, a dog’s mouth can’t spit out ivory. One good word from a Chou was definitely a prelude to ten insults.
The saber user’s face had been flushed red since A Ren woke up. Now, being taunted by Chou Bodeng, it turned so dark you could use it to write with ink.
“But Lord Liu did promise that regardless of whether the exorcism was successful, he would offer a reward of one hundred silver taels. It’s not surprising that some people came specifically to swindle that money.”
The phrase “quit while you’re ahead” simply didn’t exist in Young Master Chou’s dictionary. He had insulted everyone, from the saber user to Daoist Priest Xuanqing and Lou Jiang. The implicated Daoist Priest and Lou Jiang realized he was getting revenge for them ignoring him when he first arrived, and they didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
It seemed this person’s ability to hold a grudge was also second to none.
Daoist Priest Xuanqing and Lou Jiang, caught in the crossfire, could only smile wryly. The saber user, the main target of the attack, glared for a long time, both embarrassed and annoyed. He wanted to lash out but didn’t dare, so he could only storm out, slamming the door behind him. Chou Bodeng even shouted after him, “You forgot your hundred silver taels!” The saber user stumbled and walked even faster.
“He doesn’t even say thank you for a kind reminder,” Chou Bodeng commented. “No manners.”
Lou Jiang felt this was the moment he least understood the meaning of the word “manners.”
“Forget it, forget it,” Daoist Priest Xuanqing stroked his whisk, shaking his head with a wry smile. “If Elder Chou wants to scold, then let him scold.”
He was rather open-minded about it.
Chou Bodeng gave the little old man a strange look and stopped his insults, turning to leave.
He had extensive experience dealing with people like Daoist Priest Xuanqing. Such white-haired old geezers were all more stubborn than the last, with the virtues of a gentleman carved into their bones. Under normal circumstances, they would always be glaring at him. But God knows why they all had an overwhelming sense of responsibility. Once they got it into their heads that he wasn’t a lost cause, they would always try to steer him back to the right path.
Growing up, Chou Bodeng’s ears had nearly grown calluses from the lectures of such old men.
“Wait!” Lou Jiang chased after him. “You haven’t said what really happened!”
***
“Not a ghost, not a demon, but a puppet.”
Chou Bodeng lay bonelessly in the main seat of the hall, holding a fan he had acquired from somewhere, pointing here and there as if he were commanding an army. He looked for all the world like a hopeless case.
Daoist Priest Xuanqing and Lou Jiang sat on his left and right, listening to him recount the events of the previous day.
“Miss Liu was afflicted by a ‘Shadow Puppet.'”
A puppet was a type of “aberration” that was created.
The materials for making puppets were very diverse; wood, stone, metal, and skin could all be used. But the most bizarre and terrifying among them was the “Shadow Puppet.” Once created, a Shadow Puppet was not tainted by Yin Qi or demonic energy and could appear in any place without light. Three thousand years ago, it had once caused a great disaster. Later, the Kongsang Hundred Clans and the Eight Directions Immortal Sects joined forces to burn all the “Soul Threads” needed to create Shadow Puppets, and only then did they become extinct.
Daoist Priest Xuanqing’s expression instantly grew grave. “Elder Chou, you must not joke about this! The matter of Shadow Puppets is not to be trifled with.”
“What if I want to joke? What can you do about it?”
“You!” Daoist Priest Xuanqing was speechless.
“Daoist Priest,” Lou Jiang interrupted their conversation, his brows tightly furrowed. “What Elder… Elder Chou said might be true.” He hesitated for a moment before revealing a secret. “Some time ago, our Mountain Sea Pavilion discovered someone selling Soul Thread seeds in the Ghost Market.”
“What?” Daoist Priest Xuanqing was greatly surprised, then furious. “Who would dare to do such a depraved thing?”
“If Soul Threads truly exist, then it’s not impossible for a Shadow Puppet to be created. The Record of Marvels mentions that the terror of a Shadow Puppet lies not in the strength of its attacks, but in its ability to merge with a person’s shadow and gradually turn that person into a new ‘puppet,'” Lou Jiang analyzed. “The reason Miss Liu wasn’t controlled is likely because she is an Oracle Maiden who prays to the Fu tree day and night, so her essence, energy, and spirit are connected to the Fu tree to some extent.”
“A Shadow Puppet has reappeared in the world to control an ordinary Oracle Maiden. Why?”
Facing the questioning gazes of Lou Jiang and Daoist Priest Xuanqing, Chou Bodeng shook his head. “Don’t ask me, I don’t know.”
He was telling the truth.
Xianxia novels on sites like Qidian were a million words at a minimum, filled with a colorless, odorless, harmless liquid—water. Young Master Chou had always skipped through web novels as fast as a rocket. The fact that he even remembered ‘the Oracle Maiden of Fu City being harmed by a puppet’ was quite a coincidence.
If he had known he would transmigrate into Chronicles of the Gods…
—he would have immediately organized all the research freaks in his family into two teams.
One team would be responsible for studying the worldview and character relationships of Chronicles of the Gods, and, combined with the identities of the original characters, tailor-make at least a dozen optimal plans for enjoyment in another world. The other team would be responsible for researching the principles of multiple universes and transmigration, striving to nip all troubles in the bud.
“There is a more urgent matter,” Lou Jiang said in a low voice. “Since there is a Shadow Puppet, the Puppet Master must not be far from Fu City. Once the Shadow Puppet is dead, the Puppet Master will surely know.”
“We must find the Puppet Master to eradicate them completely!” Daoist Priest Xuanqing said resolutely.
Chou Bodeng interjected, “Where is the nearest Teleportation Formation?”
The prim and proper Lou Jiang answered subconsciously, “Ru City.”
“How far is it from here to Ru City?”
“Three… three days, I think. Why do you ask?”
Chou Bodeng closed his fan, picked up his sword, and rose. He spoke politely to Daoist Priest Xuanqing and Lou Jiang, “Now that Miss Liu is awake, my business here is done. I will take my leave now. We will meet again if fate allows.”
“You’re leaving?” Daoist Priest Xuanqing couldn’t believe it. “You know there’s an evil entity secretly plotting against the Liu family and Fu City, yet you plan to stand by and do nothing?”
“What are you talking about?” Chou Bodeng said with surprise. “Is the Liu family my in-laws or my own family?”
Daoist Priest Xuanqing was stunned. He hadn’t heard that Taiyi had arranged a marriage for Chou Bodeng. “…Neither.”
“Then does Fu City pay tribute to the Taiyi Sect or to the Mountain Sea Pavilion?” Chou Bodeng asked patiently.
“The… the Mountain Sea Pavilion.”
“There you have it.” Chou Bodeng snapped his fan shut against his palm with a smile. “No relation, no connection. What does it have to do with me?”
“You!” Daoist Priest Xuanqing rose in anger, pointing a trembling finger at him. The little warmth he had felt earlier vanished, his eyes filled with disappointment and contempt. “The gods bestowed arts upon the sages, and the sages spread the Dao throughout the world. We who have obtained the Daoist arts should protect the common people from danger. This is the iron law that cultivators have followed for generations! A cultivator like you… is simply a degenerate!”
“That I’m a degenerate, isn’t that common knowledge?”
Chou Bodeng asked back, puzzled.
Daoist Priest Xuanqing choked.
“Wait,” Lou Jiang, who had been listening for a while, interjected, asking Chou Bodeng, “Don’t you know that it’s already the Miasma Moon in Fu City?”
“…Miasma Moon?”
Chou Bodeng’s smile faded. He realized the Taiyi Sword was being unusually quiet.
With that broken sword’s personality, it would have jumped up and whipped him long ago for tarnishing Taiyi’s name like this.
Lou Jiang gave him a complicated look. “Yesterday was the last day before the Miasma Moon.”
In Chronicles of the Gods, the living environment for the human race was very harsh. Most cities were surrounded by a swirling miasma filled with demons and monsters. People needed to rely on divine objects like the ancient Fu tree to carve out habitable places within the miasma.
Chou Bodeng had previously been staying at the Taiyi Sect.
Taiyi was the foremost of the Immortal Sects, guarded by powerful divine beasts like the Kui Dragon, Phoenix, and Kunpeng. For thousands of kilometers around, the wind was clear and the moon was bright.
But for ordinary cities, the miasma outside was a severe problem. They divided the year into “Clear Moon,” “Fog Moon,” and “Miasma Moon” based on the thickness of the miasma. Once the Miasma Moon arrived, the miasma outside the city would become thick and heavy. Unless one was a great power, even cultivators would find it difficult to travel.
Clearly, Fu City had no one with a high enough cultivation to travel during the Miasma Moon.
“…”
Chou Bodeng was quiet for a moment.
“Where’s the blacksmith?”
***
“Ouch!”
Lord Liu was leading a young man in. Just as they reached the entrance of the main hall, something flew out diagonally and collided with him.
“Broken sword! Get back here.”
Chou Bodeng, dressed in fiery red, chased out of the room.
The Taiyi Sword did a carp-like flip off Lord Liu’s belly fat and was about to flee to the side.
The young man next to Lord Liu reached out a hand and stopped it. This young man was tall and slender, wearing the wide-sleeved ritual robe of an Oracle Master. He caught the sword casually, but when he looked up and saw the person who had chased it out, his knuckles suddenly tightened on the hilt, so forcefully it looked as if he might crush it.
The young Oracle Master’s face was a complete blank.
It was as if he had unexpectedly seen someone he never thought he would, in a place he never imagined.