Bai Li.
In the mountains nearby lived a white tiger whose cultivation had reached consummation.
Because she defied the Old Black Mountain Demon, other monsters hunted her down—her own kind among them.
There are two kinds of tiger demons.
One refines the body, like Bai Li—fists that can shatter stone, feet that can split the earth—the path of the physical golden core.
The other enslaves a ghost and lives by devouring souls.
Both branches of tiger demons are formidable. But because the latter method is simpler, there are more of that kind; they often choose to serve as minions to great powers in the underworld. That way, they can be supplied with ghosts—free fodder to drive and consume.
Bai Li had been hunted for three days because she refused to obey the orders of the Old Black Mountain Demon.
Yesterday, Nie Xiaoqian saved her.
So she came to Yan Chixia's door.
Although he had already joined the faith, he hadn't truly begun practicing the Eternal Meditation. He chose instead to find a place to rest before he started.
It was near noon by the time this mingled party of monsters and humans reached a ruined temple.
Yan Chixia didn't have to lift a finger; it was put in order in a moment.
Just then, a little ghost came darting in from outside.
"Salute to the Master! This place is less than a hundred miles from the capital, but the centipede is far too strong—we didn't dare go near!"
"Oh? How strong?" Yan Chixia's brows knit.
It wasn't the first time he'd heard his subordinates say the centipede was powerful. By the judgment he'd made earlier, the creature was at most stuck at the threshold of becoming an immortal. He hadn't expected it to be so difficult to handle.
Face crumpling, the little ghost said, "Reporting to the Master—our fallen brothers said the centipede is a monk calling himself Pudu Cihang, the monk who's taken the reins of the court. He's devouring the dragon qi and is only a single heavenly thunder tribulation away from becoming a true dragon…"
"What? Someone died!" Nie Xiaoqian's face went pale.
She hadn't expected that of the little ghosts she'd worked so hard to gather, only one was left!
"Yes, Master Priestess. Our brothers tried to infiltrate the palace for intelligence, but there's dragon qi girding the outer city. The centipede noticed us. I only escaped by leaping away under a vine."
Inside the ruined temple, the air grew heavy.
Yan Chixia said in a low voice, "This is going to be big. Though you and I have some strength, we clearly can't beat that centipede—and even the Old Black Mountain Demon wouldn't be his match."
"What should we do then? Otherwise… let's stop and lie low for a while, develop our base first!" Nie Xiaoqian looked at the bearded swordsman, nervous.
Halting development—on the face of it, that was prudent.
But Yan Chixia didn't see it that way. With rites and order collapsing across the land, this was the best time to spread the faith. If they didn't seize the opportunity, then once the centipede completed his breakthrough, they'd have to slog twice as hard.
He thought a long moment.
Then he glanced at Nie Xiaoqian and said suddenly, "Right—you go and ask the God. What do we do when we run into something like this?"
He didn't want to gather more than a thousand people just to offer a sacrifice to God—that would look weak.
But if they didn't sacrifice, they didn't have the strength.
Since Nie Xiaoqian was an Eternal Priestess and could commune with God, it should be fine to ask.
"How do I ask?"
"In meditation, of course."
Yan Chixia spoke as if it were obvious.
Nie Xiaoqian understood well enough. She knelt, face devout, and entered the meditative space—not to practice this time, but to call the God's name over and over.
…
Within the meditation space.
Sensing someone calling Him, Liu Che checked which priestess it was—Nie Xiaoqian.
His consciousness moved.
A tiny figure appeared in His palm.
"What is it?" He asked.
Seeing the towering figure, Nie Xiaoqian knelt in His hand, her voice reverent.
"Great God of Eternity, I am Nie Xiaoqian, Your priestess. We've run into some trouble and I beg to ask what we should do…"
It was the first time she had spoken to God face to face.
She was thrilled.
At this moment, she was literally standing in God's palm.
She had thought God's Manifest Body could not move. Now she understood—this was God's consciousness.
After He heard her account, Liu Che understood at a glance.
They had met the centipede.
Against a foe on the cusp of immortality, Yan Chixia and Nie Xiaoqian were indeed no match at present.
"Very well," He said. "Go straight to the capital. I'll place a mark on you. When you encounter the centipede, wake it."
A sigil like a curse-seal appeared on the back of Nie Xiaoqian's hand.
A moment later she was thrown back out of the meditation realm.
"How is it? Did God answer?" Yan Chixia asked.
"Mhm. The Eternal God said we can go to the capital. He left His mark…" Nie Xiaoqian raised the golden blossom on her hand, pride in her voice.
Yan Chixia felt it briefly and sensed the thrumming divine power suspended in the mark.
"Good. In that case, we pick up the pace—head for the capital!"
Once decided, Yan Chixia packed his bundle and led them forward at speed.
Two hours later, the company halted outside the city.
A black cloud swaddled the capital—denser than even the miasma around Tree-Grandma.
In Yan Chixia's eyes, a golden dragon could be seen within that darkness, howling and writhing.
The centipede's phantom covered the whole city; with his grip on the earth-veins, the city itself had become his alchemy furnace.
Refining pills with a whole city.
This centipede was vicious.
"Let's go…"
Yan Chixia pushed back the brim of his hat, slipped a few coins to the gate guard, and bought entry for the group.
Everyone in the city bore a wash of black across their faces.
Ordinary cultivators wouldn't see it.
Because that blackness was their lifeblood—yet to Yan Chixia and the others, it blazed like a beacon.
It was as if each person had an invisible tentacle sprouting from the crown of their head, siphoning away their vitality.
Nie Xiaoqian's expression twisted with pity.
The others sighed.
Even if these people could be saved, there would be no making up the vitality already stolen.
This monster had become a demon, beyond doubt.
No wonder he could command the dragon veins.
They soon reached an inn. To avoid notice, they took a private room and ordered a few dishes.
But when the wine and food arrived, no one touched a bite.
Bai Li started and asked in a low voice, "Master… is there something wrong with the food?"
"No… there's something wrong with this city—with the entire water system," Yan Chixia said.
Through his eyes, poison floated in every dish.
If you ate, you would fall under control.
The poison was subtle and sparse—difficult to detect—but even so, he wasn't about to eat any.
Bai Li sucked in a breath between her teeth. So that was it.
Nie Xiaoqian tugged twice at her sleeve, took out a space satchel, and packed away half the dishes—leaving the plates to look as if they'd been eaten from.
"This should do. If we don't eat, we'll be found out!"
"Found out how?" Bai Li asked, guileless.
Nie Xiaoqian and Yan Chixia exchanged a glance and smiled; the latter touched Bai Li's forehead, then led her to the door.
When Bai Li saw that a centipede squatted inside the bustling server's mind, her face went sheet-white; nausea surged, and she nearly vomited on the spot.
A black centipede, lodged in the brain.
If Yan Chixia hadn't clapped a hand over her mouth, she would have retched all over the threshold.
"You understand now?" Nie Xiaoqian tilted her head, smiling.
Bai Li forced a bitter smile. "How do you… hold it in?"
To sit as if nothing were wrong, calmly ordering food from a man with a bug squirming in his head—terrifying.
"If we don't want to blow our cover, we endure," Yan Chixia said dryly. "Otherwise… Here's what we'll do: set up a ward and get to practicing Eternal Meditation. If a fight breaks out for real, I won't be able to keep you alive."
Bai Li nodded hard.
…
Inside the palace.
Outwardly magnificent, the palace floors were carpeted with centipedes and creeping things.
Along the distant walls stood ranks of black-red jars—stuffed with human limbs.
As those limbs flexed and squirmed, the room filled with a wet, chewing sound.
Obviously, whatever lay within was eating.
At the center of the hall a large pool stood—filled with black-red blood.
More than a dozen monks had been tossed in.
Their faces were numb.
From time to time, a centipede pierced a belly with a hiss.
In the hall's depths sat a monk in robes whose face wore an air of compassion.
He muttered sutras under his breath.
In his hand he passed a string of prayer beads—carved from human bone.
"All right—keep the noise down. Are you not afraid they'll hear us outside…?"
When the squelching rose too loud, Pudu Cihang finally frowned and reminded them. The room fell quiet at once.
He sighed. "I've felt uneasy of late. Could it be those little ghosts—the ones that can haunt under the sun?"
Ghosts who could walk in daylight—rare indeed.
He had wanted to capture one and ask a few questions—but the thing self-destructed. No chance to interrogate it.
Still, even gods and immortals in the high heavens could do nothing to him now.
The dragon veins and imperial aura were in his hands.
It was tantamount to adding the authority of a human emperor. So long as the emperor did not command his death, he would not die.
What care had he for immortals?
"Enough, no point brooding…" he murmured. "In three days the earth veins will ripen. When I draw down the dragon qi and refine the pills… what fear have I of failing to become a true dragon?"
He had planned this for years.
He began as a sham monk.
Became Grand Preceptor of the realm.
Purged dissidents.
Now the court was firmly in his grasp.
The thought filled him with satisfaction.
A side curtain lifted, and a middle-aged man on the brink of death shuffled in.
"Your Majesty," Pudu Cihang asked softly, "how is the food today?"
"Tasty…"
"Good. As long as you're satisfied. Tomorrow, I'll bring you something fine."
"Thank… you… Grand… Master…"
Before the emperor lay a dish—food of blood—long and corded as a whip.
But the emperor's eyes were void, his face livid, lips purpled.
While bugs could not take up residence in the emperor's body, he could still be controlled—by spellcraft and by drug!