Chapter Thirty-Two: The Sacrifice of Swine and Sheep

After traversing several branching tunnels within the cave, we finally arrived at the den of the Red Fox Clan. My master and I lay flat atop an outcrop, peering down at the cluster of crimson foxes below. My master scrutinized the gathering, his gaze eventually settling on one particular fox. In a hushed tone, he pointed to the creature perched at the highest point and whispered, "Boy, that one is the Red Fox King. You’ll stay here to back me up. I’m going in first."

I nodded. With a swift leap, my master dropped straight into the heart of the cavern. The sudden assault startled the foxes, who scattered in every direction, but the Red Fox King merely rose calmly, staring coldly at my master. "A human? You have some nerve trespassing in my lair," it sneered.

My master dusted off his robe and replied, "I’m here for one thing only. I hear your clan has imprisoned many human souls. If you surrender peacefully and hand them over, I’ll spare your life."

The Red Fox King burst into derisive laughter. "Human, such a lowly race, yet you speak so brazenly. If you want the souls, come take them if you dare."

With an arrogant gesture, the Red Fox King crooked a finger. My master calmly nodded. "Obstinate fool. If you wish to die, I’ll oblige."

No sooner had the words left his lips than my master lunged forward, his motion leaving only a faint afterimage in his wake. Taken aback, the Red Fox King retreated hastily, but the rock wall allowed no escape. Seizing the moment, my master’s golden sword flashed and unhesitatingly pierced the king’s chest.

The Red Fox King had not anticipated such speed. With a leap, it reverted to its true demonic form—a massive red fox, the size of an automobile, crashed thunderously into the cavern. The golden sword lodged in its chest snapped in two with a sharp crack, the pieces clattering to the stone floor. My master stepped back, frowning. "So you can shift to your true form so swiftly? No matter, I’ll just kill you outright."

The Red Fox King roared, sending the lesser foxes fleeing in terror. "Human, I’ll see you dead!"

A fierce wind whipped through the cave. My master stood firm, hair tossed by the gale but feet unmoving. He beckoned provocatively at the king. With a mighty stomp, the Red Fox King launched itself like an arrow. My master vaulted into the air, the attack missing its mark, and landed squarely upon the king’s back.

"You insolent human, get off me now!" The Red Fox King thrashed and bellowed in rage.

My master ignored him, striding steadily along the king’s spine. With each step, he drove a golden sword into the creature’s back—sixteen in total, by my count. Then, with a leap, he landed lightly on the ground. The Red Fox King staggered and crashed into the rock wall, making the entire cavern tremble. After a moment, my master snapped his fingers, and the sixteen swords burst forth in dazzling golden light. I instinctively shut my eyes. When I opened them again, the Red Fox King lay motionless on the ground, spent and weakened, reverting to human form.

My master strode over, took a key from the king’s belt, and was about to rise when the Red Fox King shouted desperately, "Human, no… you can’t do this! The Ghost King of Qingchen will destroy me!"

"The Ghost King of Qingchen? Why are you involved with him again?" my master muttered in surprise.

The Red Fox King laughed bitterly. "Afraid now, aren’t you? You’d best leave while you can. The Ghost King has already stationed his ghost troops here. If you push your luck, I’ll call for help!"

My master paused, frowning as he glanced around, then suddenly laughed, rapping the king on the head. "Spare me your tricks, little demon. I know exactly what you’re up to. Say one more word and I’ll end you now. Consider this your final warning."

With a menacing glare, he weighed the key in his hand and strode into the passage behind the rock wall. The Red Fox King lay prone, eyes fixed hatefully on my master’s back. "Human, for this, the Ghost King of Qingchen will destroy you! When that happens, all the living will suffer, and you’ll be the world’s greatest villain—ha, you fool!"

But before his last word left his lips, my master snorted, and a rumbling resounded from beneath the earth. The Red Fox King instantly fell silent, casting a wary look at the ground. Soon, a black, ghostly gate rose before him.

His face shifted from disbelief to ashen terror. Trembling, he murmured, "This… this is the Northern Nether Gate. How can this be… Are you… Tan—"

With a wave of his hand, my master summoned a chilling black light from the gate, which dragged the Red Fox King inside before he could finish. Once the king had vanished, my master dispersed the gate with a sweep of his sleeve. I saw him dig at his ear and mutter, "So noisy!"

Then he strode into the cave behind the rock wall. A short while later, he emerged, a bag adorned with a Bagua diagram at his waist. Excited, I called out to him and gave a thumbs-up. My master smiled, leapt up the wall, and landed beside me. "Come on, boy. We’re done here."

I nodded and walked out with my master, side by side.

Meanwhile, in the Netherworld, a diminutive ghost stumbled into a grand castle hall and collapsed to his knees, trembling as he addressed the dais, "R-reporting, Lord Qingchen, s-something terrible has happened!"

After a moment, a thick black aura seeped down from above, accompanied by a deep, rumbling voice. "What has you so frightened, little ghost? How have you managed the tasks I assigned you?"

"Your Lordship, all is arranged atop Yin Mountain, rest assured," stammered the little ghost, bowing low in respect.

"Very well, then why such panic? You disturb my rest!" the specter intoned.

The little ghost’s eyes darted nervously. "Your Lordship, I just received word. The Fourth Ghost General, Lord Mo Shan, has perished in the mortal realm, and…"

He faltered. At the news of Mo Shan’s demise, the specter materialized completely, his ghostly aura swirling erratically as he glared. "And what? Speak!"

The little ghost shuddered. "A-and… the fifty thousand ghost troops Lord Mo Shan led have all vanished from the mortal realm." He lowered his head, not daring to meet the specter’s gaze.

The specter’s pitiless eyes widened in fury. "Who did this?"

The little ghost’s head hit the floor, trembling. "It was… the Guardian of the Living World and his subordinate."

"The Guardian? His subordinate? Tan Boqing?" the specter growled, brow furrowed.

The little ghost nodded. "Exactly so."

The specter, seated on his throne, leaned back, muttering, "Tan Boqing, you are a persistent thorn in my side."

He fell silent for a while, then suddenly flew before the little ghost and commanded, "Pass down my orders! Muster all the ghost troops of Yin Mountain, recall all other ghost generals. In ten days, we march on the land of the living, annihilate Tan Boqing, and slaughter the humans!"

The little ghost nodded frantically, accepted the command, and withdrew.

Left alone in the hall, the specter clenched his claws, seething. "Tan Boqing, you have thwarted me time and again. I will destroy you!" His furious roar echoed through the castle, startling the patrolling ghost soldiers, who resumed their rounds in a shudder.

Back in Zhang Village, on our way home, my master found a clearing and opened the cloth bag. He tore several yellow talisman papers and arranged them around the bag. Soon, a haze of lost souls drifted out. My master gazed at them and intoned, "Departed, your souls were taken; now, as you return, be restored. The road ahead leads home—do not stray from the village."

With a gesture, he directed the souls onward, and they floated away. I watched in puzzlement. "Master, aren’t they afraid of sunlight?"

He shook his head. "All ghosts fear the sun, but I used a little trick. They can’t feel it now. The bridge is the bridge, the road is the road. I only hope they find their way home and never wander into the black mists between worlds again."

I nodded and pointed to a female soul in the bag. "Is that the soul of Zhang Moyun’s mother?"

"Yes. Come, today is her uncle’s last day among the living. Since we’re here, let’s see him off—it’s everyone’s first time as a human, after all." My master patted my shoulder and stood.

Following him, we walked for over half an hour before reaching Zhang Guoqing’s home. My master and I didn’t enter the mourning hall but sat on a bench outside. Zhang Moyun, that little girl, spotted us, greeted us, and sat by my side. Remembering the morning’s events, I felt a bit awkward and chuckled. She asked, "Lin Xuan, where did you go? I’ve been looking for you everywhere."

I was momentarily surprised. "Looking for me? Why?"

"There’s no one here I can talk to. I can’t really chat with the adults," she replied.

Just as I was about to respond, the geomancer interrupted from outside, shouting in the Sichuan dialect, "Everyone, make some room, clear this space here!"

He pointed to the center of the mourning hall entrance. Everyone moved their benches aside as instructed. The geomancer then picked up a microphone and announced, "Bring the pig and the sheep!"

At his words, a pitiful squeal rent the air as five or six strong men carried up a pig, followed by a young man leading a goat. I recognized him as the geomancer’s apprentice. One of the men set a sturdy plank across two benches, and the others hoisted the struggling pig onto it. I turned to my master in confusion. "What are they doing?"

He glanced at the pig. "This is the Pig and Sheep Sacrifice—a ritual to honor ancestors or the departed. This is just the beginning. There are many steps yet to come, just wait until tonight."

I nodded and watched. The geomancer beckoned his apprentice and said, "After the knife goes in, light the firecrackers immediately—don’t delay, understand?"

The apprentice nodded, tied the goat to a nearby tree, fetched a string of firecrackers, and made a readiness gesture. The geomancer nodded, raised the microphone, and proclaimed, "Let the Pig and Sheep Sacrifice begin!"

Six men pinned the pig to the plank. The animal struggled desperately, its head lifted high. One of them took a cleaver, scalded it in hot water, then plunged it into the pig’s throat. Instantly, firecrackers exploded, and the drummers resumed their pounding. The pig shrieked and thrashed, blood spilling into a basin.

After a while, the pig ceased moving, and the men carried it away. Watching this, I felt uneasy—seeing a living creature killed so. Zhang Moyun was even more shaken, burying her face in my shoulder at the fatal moment. I patted her gently. "It’s all right, it’s over."

She slowly lifted her head, glancing at where the pig had been, and whispered, "I’m sorry."

I waved it off. After a few moments, the geomancer ordered his apprentice to bring the goat. Six men repeated the process, ending the animal’s struggles. Again, Zhang Moyun buried her face in my shoulder. I thought to myself, "If you’re so afraid, why insist on watching? You’re only making yourself suffer."

I patted her again, and she apologized once more. I forced a smile and shook my head. Ten minutes later, the butcher brought the goat’s head and the pig’s blood, setting them before the mourning hall. The geomancer picked up a stack of yellow paper, dipped some in pig’s blood, and recited, "The departed are gone, spirits be at peace. We offer this pig and sheep in sacrifice, to guide Master Zhang Guoqing safely on his way."

He burned the bloodstained papers in a brazier, then two others carried away the goat’s head and the pig’s blood. The geomancer entered the hall, burned three sticks of incense, and announced, "Tomorrow morning at seven, Master Zhang Guoqing will be laid to rest!"

He drew out the last word, and as his voice faded, the drummers struck up again. The briefly quiet scene turned noisy once more. I noticed a disheveled woman sitting inside, weeping over a scrap of paper, while Zhang Moyun’s aunt tried to comfort her but ended up crying herself. "The Zhang family has brought this on themselves," she wailed. "I told him not to get mixed up with such things, but he wouldn’t listen. Now he’s gone, the family’s ruined—oh, what a curse!"

My master heard this and frowned deeply but did not inquire further. In truth, her words referred to the Red Fox Clan, as I later learned from her. Years ago, Zhang Guoqing had met a red fox while working in the fields. Apparently, he struck some kind of deal with the creature. Rural people are often superstitious, and his aunt had scolded him repeatedly, warning him not to trust the fox, that it was a demon and he’d lost his senses. But Zhang Guoqing wouldn’t listen, as if some great temptation held him fast. In the end, what kind of deal could a human and a demon make but one trading wealth for years of life? Zhang Guoqing ended with neither, his fate both tragic and pathetic. The specifics of the bargain remain a mystery; we can only guess. So, let this be a warning: never trust strangers’ words. If something happens, call the police!