Chapter 3 — The Enigma

The old monk rose shakily to his feet. A warmth surged in his throat, and he could not hold back a mouthful of hot blood that sprayed out, dyeing the monk's robe before him red. He felt stars flashing before his eyes, his whole body wracked with pain, and that numb, itching sensation drawing ever closer to his heart.

He forced himself to calm his mind. From the corner of his eye he glimpsed Lin Jinghong lying on the ground, still unconscious—and saw, crawling slowly from the boy's collar, a colored centipede, large as a palm. Strangest of all, its tail was split into seven forks, so that it seemed to have seven tails, each of a different hue, every one brilliant and vivid—yet for all their beauty there was something ghastly in them.

"The Seven-Tailed Centipede!" The old monk's words sounded like a groan.

The blackness on his face grew heavier, blood trickling ceaselessly from the corner of his mouth; he seemed scarcely able to hold on, yet he still forced himself to remain upright, unwilling to fall. He looked at the mass of black vapor in midair and said, "You set this rarest venom of the world upon that child, and deliberately concealed your strength, waiting for the moment to strike me down with a single blow. It is me you have come for, is it not?"

The man in the black vapor gave a cold, sinister laugh. "Correct. I have come expressly for you, Puzhao, you bald donkey. Were it otherwise, with your Buddhist cultivation from the Brahma Sound Temple, you would not be so easy to deal with. Enough—now hand over the 'Blood-Devouring Pearl' at once, and I will give you the antidote to the Seven-Tailed Centipede and spare your life!"

Puzhao gave a bitter laugh. "To think my name contains the character 'zhi'—wisdom—and yet I never guessed that one who cultivates such a cursed thing as the Blood-Poison Banner would not covet the 'Blood-Devouring Pearl.'" His face turned stern, and he said decisively, "To hand over to you the most vicious thing in this world—that is a vain hope."

The man in the black vapor was enraged. "Then go and meet your Buddha!" A red gleam flashed; the Blood-Poison Banner fluttered in the wind, ghosts wailed, and the giant ghostly thing appeared once more. It circled briefly in the air, then charged at Puzhao again.

Puzhao gave a great shout, and his robes billowed though there was no wind; his originally slight frame seemed to swell greatly. Where his left hand gripped with force, a crisp crack was heard—the string of emerald prayer beads had been crushed in his grasp. A dozen or more crystal-clear beads did not fall, but instead spun whirling without cease, each emitting a blue-green light, floating before Puzhao—save one deep purple bead, which dropped straight down.

Puzhao turned his palm and snatched the purple bead into his hand. Both hands then formed the left and right Water Vase Seals, his eyes wide open, golden light faintly veiling his whole body, and he chanted, word by word: "Om—ma—ni—pad—me—hum!"

"The Six-Syllable Great Bright Mantra." The tone of the man in the black vapor at once grew more grave.

As Puzhao's "hum" sounded, in an instant all the emerald prayer beads blazed with light together. At that same moment the ghostly thing the evildoer had summoned was already upon him, the reek of blood rushing at his face. But the moment it touched the blue-green radiance it dissolved into nothing, unable to advance, and so the two hung locked in midair.

Even so, Puzhao's body swayed again. The Seven-Tailed Centipede was the deadliest venom in the world; for all his centuries of cultivation, he still could not withstand it. Yet upon his face, dark with the black vapor, there appeared a faint smile, bearing a touch of something stern and unyielding.

"Ha!"

Puzhao gave a great shout, like a lion's roar, shaking the four wilds. The emerald beads before him, driven by the power of the Buddha, shone all the brighter. Suddenly one bead burst with a "puff," transformed in midair into the character "Buddha," and hurtled forward, striking the ghostly thing in the face.

"Waaah——!" The ghostly thing gave a shrill, piteous howl and staggered back several steps, the red radiance around it greatly dimmed—plainly it was wounded. The man in the black vapor said in fury, "A fine bald donkey!"

He was about to act, but in that instant, quick as a flash, seven or eight more beads transformed into true words of the Buddha and struck the ghostly thing. It howled without cease, retreating again and again in terror. When the ninth emerald bead struck it, it at last gave a long wail, its five eyes bursting all at once, its bones rattling wildly, and with a "boom" it fell to the ground. It struggled a few times, then went stiff and still, slowly dissolving into a pool of reeking blood.

At the same time, Puzhao gave a "wa" and spat out another great mouthful of blood—and the color of that blood had turned black.

"Ah!" A scream came from the temple gate, at this critical juncture in the contest between the two masters.

Both Puzhao and the evildoer were startled. The black vapor in the sky stirred, and Puzhao looked toward the gate as well. There stood the child he had seen by day, Zhang Qingyue, who for some reason had come to the thatched temple. He stood in the doorway, staring dumbstruck at the strange spectacle within.

The man in the black vapor gave a cold snort, and without any visible movement, the Seven-Tailed Centipede that had been crawling on Lin Jinghong suddenly flicked its tail and launched itself into the air, swift as lightning, flying straight at Zhang Qingyue.

Puzhao's brows shot up; he pointed with his right hand, and an emerald prayer bead flew swiftly forth. The Seven-Tailed Centipede seemed almost to have a spirit of its own—it knew the danger and dared not meet the bead head-on. With a flick of its tail it veered upward as though on wings, plunged into the black vapor, and was seen no more.

The man in the black vapor said darkly, "Heh heh. Truly worthy of one of the Four Great Divine Monks of the Brahma Sound Temple—badly wounded as you are, you can still destroy my 'Blood-Poison Corpse King.' But you took a blow from the Corpse King and are poisoned by the Seven-Tailed Centipede. How much longer can you hold out? Best hand over the 'Blood-Devouring Pearl' obediently."

By now even the corners of Puzhao's eyes were weeping black blood. He gave a bitter laugh and said in a strained voice, "Even if this old monk dies here today, I will rid the world of you, demon."

As his words fell, all the emerald prayer beads before him lit up at once. The man in the air instantly went on guard—when suddenly a whistling sound came, and something streaked with blue-green light shot in from behind into the black vapor. It was the very bead that had flown at the Seven-Tailed Centipede—it had sailed some distance through the air, then, secretly guided by Puzhao, curved around behind the black vapor to strike where it was least expected.

A furious roar came from within the black vapor—plainly the man had been caught off guard. "Bang, bang, bang"—several chaotic reports, a flash of blue-green light, and the black vapor scattered, finally breaking apart in all directions and dissolving into nothing. From midair a tall, gaunt figure descended slowly, his whole body tightly wrapped in a black robe, so that neither face nor age could be made out. Only a pair of eyes showed, gleaming fiercely. Behind him was strapped a long sword.

Puzhao said in a low voice, "With such cultivation as your honor possesses, why do you not dare show your face?"

The man in black flashed his fierce eyes and said harshly, "Bald donkey, today I will leave you with no place even to be buried!"

With that, he reached back and with a "shing" drew the long sword from his back. The blade was clear as autumn water, bright without dazzling, a faint pure light clinging to its surface.

"A fine sword," Puzhao could not help crying out.