Chapter 48 — The Town

In truth, had he ridden the dark iron rod through the air, he would have been far quicker, but for some reason he had no such intention. His heart felt perpetually stifled, the same questions ever tangling in his mind, and he preferred to go slowly, hoping to think his doubts through to the end.

Yet if it came to that, how could the questions in Zhang Qingyue's heart be resolved by a youth like him? However he racked his brains, he could only feel that the teachings of his sect were sacred beyond question, that things were so by nature and could never be wrong; yet when he thought again on Wan Ren Gui's words, they seemed to hold some truth as well. Unable to choose between them, he was truly bewildered.

Had it been anyone else—his sixth senior brother, Du Biyan, say—he would have given a sly laugh and tossed the matter aside: I am a disciple of the Canglan Sect, so naturally I heed the Canglan Sect. And had it been his eldest senior brother, Song Dayi, whose nature was strict, he would have rejected out of hand these so-called heresies and would not even have entertained the thought.

It was Zhang Qingyue alone, stubborn beyond all others to the bone, who had run into a question that all but challenged every belief he had ever held, and who now wished to think it through and find the answer.

And so he buried himself in thought and walked three whole days, and still could make nothing of it.

One day Zhang Qingyue suddenly felt the travelers on the road grow more numerous. He looked ahead and saw at the end of the ancient road a small town. It did not look large, but being on this road, it seemed to have no small number of people.

Zhang Qingyue's heart lifted, and he forgot his troubles for a while. For three days there had been scarcely a soul on the road, and the sight of such a town heartened him.

Drawing near, he saw a stone tablet standing by the roadside at the town's entrance, carved with the three characters "Xiaochi Town"—doubtless the name of the place.

Zhang Qingyue strolled in. The voices of the crowd gradually swelled; the ancient road ran straight through the town, lined with houses and eaves and a few shops, but more numerous still were the peddlers who had set up stalls right along both sides of the road. As he walked along the street, the cries of hawkers filled his ears—a veritable scroll of worldly life.

Walking among the crowd, Zhang Qingyue slowly let a smile show at the corners of his mouth. When he was small and still living in Liumiao Village, he vaguely remembered it had looked much like this. The smoke and fire of the human world, set against the years of cultivation on Canglan Mountain, seemed to leave a flavor of its own in his heart.

"Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang..."

Just as Zhang Qingyue was still lost in memories of the past, a thunderous clangor of gongs suddenly came from the street ahead, giving him a start. Then he saw the townsfolk all quickening their steps and rushing toward a spot ahead, and among them he caught a few talking as they walked: "Hurry, the town chief has called everyone to gather—he is going to speak."

"I'll bet it's about that business."

"Aye. They say last night the town chief talked with Headman Li and Scholar Fan the whole night through. I wonder if they came up with any plan?"

"Let's hope so. Otherwise there'll be no living through these days!"

...

Hearing this, Zhang Qingyue's curiosity was roused, and he followed the flow of people forward. The crowd gathered from all sides, and before long two or three hundred people had encircled a stone platform at the center of the town.

Zhang Qingyue stood in the crowd and looked toward the middle. The stone platform was about half a man's height and looked fairly smooth, and upon it stood three men—two old, one young—doubtless the town chief, Headman Li, and Scholar Fan he had just heard of.

Seeing that most of the people had arrived, the eldest of the three on the platform stepped forward and waved to the townsfolk below, and the crowd gradually fell quiet.

When at last all was quiet, the old man looked about him and spoke in a heavy voice: "Fellow townsmen, you all know well enough why I have called you here today. Three months ago that demon took up its dwelling in the Blackstone Cave ten li beyond our town, and from that day it has not ceased to plague us. This past month it has grown worse by the day, coming every night, carrying off countless cattle, sheep, and fowl. Worse still, three days ago the Wang father and son, fighting to keep the last cow in their household, were... alas, they were slain by that demon's hand."

A murmur of sighs ran through the townsfolk, and a few could not restrain themselves and cursed aloud. Zhang Qingyue now understood most of it, though he still did not know what manner of creature this demon was.

Then the town headman spoke again: "As headman, I have failed to keep this town safe, and for that I am deeply ashamed. Last night I conferred with Constable Li and Scholar Fan, and we concluded that since this demon is no ordinary beast, it is beyond the power of common folk like ourselves to withstand. We had best post a notice, calling for masters of the Dao to come and subdue it. As for the cost, well, I must ask you all to lend your generous support."

No sooner had he finished than the townsfolk below began to cry out: "The headman is right! We should bring in a master to catch the demon!"

"If this goes on, we'll all be eaten by that demon — what's a little money beside that?"

"Aye, aye..."

Seeing that most of the townsfolk agreed, the headman seemed to breathe easier. "In that case," he said, "last night I had Scholar Fan write out a notice. We shall post it now." With that he nodded to the young man of scholarly appearance, who answered and drew from his bosom a sheet of white paper bearing some writing. He stepped down from the stone platform, walked to a brick wall standing nearby, and pasted it up.

The townsfolk crowded forward at once, and Zhang Qingyue went with them to look. On the paper was written:

Whereas a demon, the Three-Tailed Fox, dwells in the Blackstone Cave ten li beyond this town, hiding by day and coming forth by night to plague our town, seizing our fowl and cattle, and even doing injury to persons; and whereas its demon arts are formidable, we hereby earnestly invite masters of the Dao to come and rid the people of this scourge. The town of Xiaochi will pay five hundred taels of fine silver in recompense.

Zhang Qingyue saw that it was signed by the townsfolk of Xiaochi, and heard the townspeople all around voicing their approval. He hesitated. He had a mind to do this good deed, but at the thought of what the townsman and the headman had said, this demon was likely fearsome indeed. His own powers were slight; that he could not best the demon was a small matter, but should he lose his life by some mischance, and with it the face of his sect, that was a burden he could not bear.

As he stood there wavering, he suddenly heard a stir run through the townsfolk. He looked up hastily and gave a start, for a giant of a man was coming in from outside the crowd, and wherever he passed he did no more than brush the people lightly with his hand, and they parted before him like water.

When the giant came near, Zhang Qingyue saw him clearly: he did not look old, twenty at most, with thick brows and great eyes, a square face and broad ears, and with his startling frame there came a rush of fearsome vigor.

Among the crowd, the tallest reached only to his shoulder; truly he stood out like a crane among chickens.

He strode to the wall in question, read the notice over carefully, and then, without a word, tore it down.