"Old Man Jiang... Old Man Jiang!" the village headman shouted, sprinting excitedly from outside the village. He bounded over the Jiang family's fence, so worked up that one of his shoes flew off. Without even pausing to pick it up, he yelled to the old man emerging from the house, "The immortal... the immortal who saved your grandson has appeared again! Yesterday, a giant tuolong attacked a boat, and an immortal stepped forward to subdue it with a single finger!
"Word has it the immortal even mentioned our village's great plum tree, saying he had slain a demon right here!"
Old Man Jiang asked anxiously, "Headman, is this news true?"
"My nephew who serves at the yamen told me with his own mouth! How could it be false? Hurry, come with me to the town to offer our thanks to the immortal! Perhaps we can renew that karmic bond and bring some more blessings upon your little grandson, can't we?"
Old Man Jiang hurriedly changed his clothes, saying, "Paying our respects to the immortal is only right. But I am genuinely grateful to him for saving my grandson. As for blessings, growing up safe and sound is blessing enough. Still, for a debt of life, I must take my grandson to kowtow before him at least once, lest people say our village has no manners and turns a blind eye to an enormous favor."
He chattered on, though his heart was clearly not as calm as he pretended—his fingers trembled as he fastened his buttons.
Old Man Jiang picked up his grandson and told him, "Today I'm taking you to kowtow to the immortal grandpa who saved you. You're not allowed to fool around."
The boy nodded obediently. "I know!"
The people of Sanyang Village had been stirred up the moment the headman began shouting. Seeing Old Man Jiang stepping out in clean new clothes with his grandson, neighbors cradling vegetable baskets and carrying hampers gathered in the courtyards and called out, "Old Man Jiang, going out? Heading to town?"
Old Man Jiang ignored the probing of these village gossips. He led his grandson through the village, and before long, more than a dozen villagers in their best clothes were trailing behind him. Some just wanted to join the excitement, some hoped to catch a glimpse of the immortal to bask in his good fortune, and others sought wealth or sons...
Knowing these busybodies were like stubborn eczema that could never be shaken off, Old Man Jiang could only ask the headman to lead them, so they would not cause a disorderly mess and offend propriety.
The large procession advanced grandly toward Jiaobu Town. Along the way, curious passersby inquired about their purpose, and upon hearing of something as wonderful as thanking a living immortal, naturally fell into line as well. Far from losing anyone, the crowd only swelled as they walked.
***
Meanwhile, Daoist Zhen was receiving Wei Taiping's discipleship bows. Under the witness of the local dignitaries, Jiaobu Town's dock was decked out in red silk and festive banners. Surrounded by the throng, Daoist Zhen arrived at the spot where the beast had been subdued the previous day. The giant tuolong was an enormous crocodile measuring some eight zhang from snout to tail, resting in the river like a small vessel. A heavy rope was tied around its snout, connected to a black banner.
Seeing Daoist Zhen approach, the creature's belly vibrated beneath the water, producing a rumble like thunder.
The tuolong was originally a spiritual beast subdued by Daoist Zhen; seeing its master arrive, it naturally assumed a submissive posture. The onlookers erupted in thrilled clamor. A bold sailor even leaped from a nearby boat onto the beast's back, slapping its armored hide, which immediately drew a roar of cheers from the riverbank.
Perhaps irritated by the weight on its back, the crocodile shifted slightly. Terrified out of his wits, the young sailor scrambled back into the river in a panic and swam toward the boat, drawing a burst of mocking laughter from the crowd.
Watching Daoist Zhen effortlessly command such a ferocious monster, the onlookers were swept up in uncontainable awe and excitement.
The chief of the Tuolong Gang led his subordinates forward with fawning praise. "The immortal master subdued this rampaging tuolong with a single finger—truly divine power! We are utterly ashamed! Though our gang is named the Tuolong, dozens if not a hundred of our brothers are devoured by them each year. These beasts have terrorized Jiuzhen Commandery for decades, always fierce and terrifying! Years ago, when a great Confucian scholar from the imperial court served as our commandery governor, he even composed a *Proclamation for the Crocodiles* to rebuke this wicked beast and banish its scourge.
"Who could have thought that a monster immune to the rebukes of a great scholar would be so easily brought to heel by the immortal master!
"Our founding chief chose this fearsome beast as our namesake in the hope that our disciples would be viewed as kin by the crocodiles and spared their wrath.
"Who knew... these tuolong eat their own kind without the slightest hesitation!" The gang chief feigned a look of bewildered dismay, prompting amused chuckles.
The leaders and hall masters of the other jianghu factions curled their lips in secret disdain. Naming their gang after the tuolong to trick crocodiles into sparing them? What a load of nonsense! The Tuolong Gang had taken the name because of their vicious, predatory style, thinking the crocodile's cruelty suited their reputation.
To act like an honest, simple man before this immortal master now...
The clamorous spectacle provided an obvious beacon for the villagers of Sanyang. When the gang members keeping order heard that these villagers had come to repay an immortal's debt of gratitude—and having also heard the tale of the dragon-slaying—they naturally did not dare bar their way, allowing the group onto the dock.
The village headman had plenty of tact and called out from afar, "We, the folk of Sanyang Village, having received the immortal's immense grace in slaying the demon, have brought the rescued child and local fruits to offer for the immortal's enjoyment!"
At these words, the crowded throng parted, revealing Daoist Zhen, the Wei clan, and the prominent figures of the local factions standing at the center.
The chief of the Flying Fish Gang stepped forward with a broad smile and congratulated Daoist Zhen. "Immortal Master, the villagers who received your great kindness have come to repay you!"
Daoist Zhen neither affirmed nor denied it, his expression showing neither joy nor displeasure. Old Man Jiang led his grandson down the path cleared through the crowd, gazing at the gathered figures with some confusion. His eyesight was poor; he squinted for a long time, yet failed to spot the young, boyish Daoist he remembered. Seeing him stand there dumbfounded, someone took him by the arm and guided him before Daoist Zhen.
When the village headman got a clear look at the figures within, his expression suddenly shifted.
Old Man Jiang was still looking around in vain. Seeing him wander aimlessly, the Tuolong Gang's chief pointed and said, "What are you gaping for? This is the grand master who worked the magic to slay that wicked flood dragon near your village..."
When Old Man Jiang clearly saw the 'grand master's' face, his own drained of color. Bewilderment, shock, fury, and terror flashed across his features in turn. After hesitating for a long moment, he finally lowered his head slowly, preparing to kneel and kowtow...
Just then, the grandson holding his hand suddenly blurted out, "Grandpa, that's not the immortal grandpa who saved me!"
As soon as the words left the boy's mouth, everyone's expression changed. The seasoned jianghu veterans merely froze for a moment before instantly acting as though they had heard nothing, while the younger men held their breath, rendered speechless... A sudden, heavy silence descended upon the dock. The unexpected stillness was so sharp that even those on the outer perimeter who had not heard the child felt the chill in the air and dared not make a sound.
It was Wei Lecheng who broke the awkward silence. He chuckled and said, "Children have poor memories. Just a few days, and he's already forgotten what his savior looks like!"
Old Man Jiang nodded like a pounding pestle. "Yes, yes! The boy's had a terrible memory since he was little... terrible!" He pulled the child closer. Though the boy did not understand what was happening, he felt his grandfather's trembling hand and was terrified into silence.
Daoist Zhen smiled and stepped forward. Fear seized Old Man Jiang, and he tried to shrink back, but he was too slow.
He watched as Daoist Zhen smiled gently. "Poor child..."
The Daoist reached out and patted the boy's forehead. Instantly, a wisp of black qi surged from the child's brow, contorting into numerous ferocious, ghastly faces like vengeful spirits. Daoist Zhen let out a thunderous shout that made the boy shudder violently, and a beam of white light erupted from the Daoist's hand, slicing the black qi in two like a flying blade.
The severed dark mist collapsed into foul pus and blood, splattering across the ground.
"Cast with an evil spell to bewitch his soul... Alas!" Daoist Zhen shook his head with a heavy sigh. "After I exposed that fellow Daoist yesterday, he evidently remained resentful, which led to today's disgraceful scene. He bewitched the child's mind and incited these villagers to bring the boy here to thank me, only to manipulate this evil ghost from the shadows and use the child's mouth to ruin my reputation.
"Even if his heart refused to accept defeat, why drag an innocent soul into it?"
Old Man Jiang's hands shook uncontrollably; he could barely hold the child in his arms. The boy, who had looked rosy-cheeked and energetic moments before, was now deathly pale, his breath faint and ragged.
"These are the lingering aftereffects of the soul-confusing technique. Take this spirit pill and feed it to him. Once you return home and let him rest for a few days, he will recover." Daoist Zhen wore a warm smile, the very picture of benevolence.
Old Man Jiang dared not utter a word. He accepted the pill with trembling obsequiousness, clutched it in his fist, and cradled the child, begging permission to withdraw.
Witnessing the immortal slay a ghost with their own eyes, the onlookers instantly swallowed Daoist Zhen's explanation whole. In their minds, they imagined a dramatic confrontation where a humiliated evil Daoist cast a soul-bewitching spell to harm an innocent child, only for the wicked specter to be struck down by a true immortal. Cheers erupted once more. Wei Lecheng took Daoist Zhen's arm and said, "How fortunate that you were vigilant, Daoist friend, and prevented that villain from doing further mischief."
As Wei Lecheng held Daoist Zhen back, he cast Old Man Jiang a sharp glance, signaling him to leave immediately.
With Wei Lecheng leading the way, the prominent figures chimed in with effusive flattery. "A true immortal indeed!"
The villagers below murmured among themselves: "So an evil sorcerer bewitched the Jiang boy's soul! No wonder he was talking nonsense!"
"I knew something seemed off with Old Man Jiang today. After such a scare, how could the boy have recovered so fast? He was possessed by a ghost!"
"We almost misunderstood the living immortal!"
"Should I go up and ask the immortal when I might give birth to a son?"
"Doesn't this immortal look familiar? Like when Brother Shitou was chopping down the tree..."
Old Man Jiang gripped the 'spirit pill' with all his might, holding his child tightly as he hurried out of the town. Once beyond the town gates, he broke into a frantic jog. Along the way, he hurled the crushed pill to the dirt. The spring breeze against his face carried a chill, and before he knew it, tears were streaming down his wrinkled cheeks.
At some point, the village headman had caught up. When Old Man Jiang stumbled and nearly fell, the headman caught him by the arm.
The headman sighed heavily. "This... who could have imagined things would turn out like this?"
Full of remorse, he said, "Brother Jiang, I've wronged you!"
Old Man Jiang said nothing. He simply sprinted home and settled his grandson into bed. Watching the boy lie weak against the mattress, his face pale, drifting unconscious in a feverish stupor, the old man could only weep in silence...
***
Later that day, inside the City God Temple, the City God was listening to the report of a day-patrol ghost messenger. Every occurrence within the town, down to the finest detail, was laid bare before him. When the ghost finished, the City God let out several cold chuckles and ordered, "Dispatch all underworld messengers under my jurisdiction to track down this man's whereabouts." With a wave of his hand, a sheet of white paper floated above his desk, bearing a portrait of Qian Chen carrying his umbrella on his back.
"Once you locate him, recount everything that happened today to him!"
The temple priest standing nearby hesitated. "Lord, that Daoist Zhen is an honored guest of the Wei clan. Should we inform the Wei family first?"
At these words, the City God struck his gavel on the desk with a sharp crack and sneered, "Have you taken too much silver from the Wei clan? Forgotten who you are?
"You are the priest of my City God Temple, not a dog kept by the Wei family..."
Terror-stricken, the priest fell to his knees in supplication. "Lord, spare me! This old fool spoke out of turn! I only thought the Wei family shared your bloodline, Lord, and so grew insolent..."
"Indeed! I am the ancestor of the Wei clan, but the Wei clan only listens to its patriarch, Wei Lecheng... Only those who show respect and filial piety are my descendants. The Wei clan pays me respect, yes, but only on the surface! When have they ever obeyed me? They ignore my counsel, yet expect me to shoulder their blame and wipe their backsides! Am I their ancestor, or are they mine?
"Wei Lecheng considers himself clever!
"So what if that young Daoist is a true transmission disciple of the Daoist orthodoxy? The orthodoxy has its rules. So long as he does nothing atrocious or uses sorcery to harm others, would offending a true transmission disciple or two cause his entire household to be exterminated? Great clans form their own factions... but I, this City God, am supervised by the Daoist Academy! A true transmission disciple might not be able to touch him, but can he not touch me? When the time comes, a simple word passed to Zhengyi Dao would make life miserable for an eighth-rank City God like me. What would be difficult about that?
"Wei Lecheng wants to swallow Daoist Zhen whole and take every benefit for himself, yet leaves me to shoulder the risks.
"Why should I bear this responsibility for a bunch of unfilial descendants?" The City God sneered. "For the sake of the offerings the Wei clan has provided all these years, I will temporarily suppress this matter and not report it to the Daoist Academy. Naturally... does the academy truly know nothing? They are watching from the sidelines as well! They proclaim to uphold the righteous path of the mortal realm, yet who doesn't harbor selfish desires in their heart? The stipends and offerings distributed by the academy in recent years have fallen noticeably short... Which of those Daoists doesn't want spirit pills to bolster their cultivation?
"Now, we shall see whether this young Daoist's standing carries more weight, or Daoist Zhen's pills smell sweeter!"
Chapter 55