Chapter Sixty-One: Seeking the Rising Sun

Reluctantly, Zhang Daozhen released the great rooster and said, "This Golden-Eyed Rainbow-Feathered Chicken is a divine creature. According to ancient texts, it carries the bloodline of the Mysterious Bird. You must take good care of it—you never know when it might transform into a divine bird. Hermit Zhong, have you heard the saying, 'A wild pheasant turns into a phoenix'? It refers to these birds bearing the blood of the divine bird. Once their intelligence awakens and their path is realized, they become the sacred birds soaring above the nine heavens."

"Is this chicken really that remarkable?" Zhong Ming asked, half in doubt. He had heard of the Mysterious Bird; according to the Book of Songs: 'Heaven decreed the Mysterious Bird, who descended and gave birth to the Shang.' The story goes that Jian Di, the mother of Shang Qi, accidentally ate the egg of the Mysterious Bird in the wild and gave birth to Shang Qi. Shang Qi became the ancestor of the Shang tribe, the earliest civilized tribe recorded in history, marking the origin of cultural heritage in this era.

Thus, the Mysterious Bird was revered as a divine creature. Before the establishment of the Former Chen dynasty, it even served as a totem for some states. It was only after the Former Chen unified the realm that the Mysterious Bird’s divine status was abolished. Ancient records describe the Mysterious Bird as similar to a phoenix—inky black feathers, a crimson beak, as large as a hill, with a piercing cry that can communicate with the netherworld and command spirits and ghosts.

That was why the old Daoist said this Golden-Eyed Rainbow-Feathered Chicken was of great use; evil corpses, being impure, were precisely suppressed by the Mysterious Bird’s powers. But Zhang Daozhen's tale was too fantastical. Zhong Ming looked again and again at the rooster in his arms, but could not discern any trace of the Mysterious Bird's bloodline in this dull-witted creature.

He casually tossed Iron General to the ground, and the great rooster flapped its wings and flew over the hillside—most likely headed home. Iron General was exceedingly attached to his home. If not searching for green worms outside, he would perch atop the wall—either on Zhong Ming’s roof or Liang Yu’s. This splendid rooster was originally a wild pheasant from the mountains. Last year, when snow sealed off the mountains and food was scarce, it ran into Liang Yu’s house to steal grain and was caught red-handed.

That day, Liang Yu caught the struggling rooster, intending to feast on it for a rare meal of meat. Elated, he came to show off to Zhong Ming. Zhong Ming was curious how the rooster had survived, for during the previous famine, not even a mouse could be found—people gnawed even the bark and roots of trees. How could a wild pheasant remain? It must have possessed some spirit and cunning to escape the hands of the starving villagers.

So Zhong Ming suggested Liang Yu keep it as the village’s living alarm clock. Liang Yu was reluctant, always thinking he’d slaughter the rooster for a feast someday. But then, one day, Liang Yu took Iron General to the city to pit against the local gangsters’ fighting cocks. The great rooster shone, winning eighteen matches in a row and earning the title of King of Chickens. Only then did Liang Yu treat it as a treasure.

After all, those gambling fights brought Liang Yu considerable winnings. In the end, no one dared challenge him; no matter how splendid the opponent, Iron General would defeat them in two moves. Reluctantly, Liang Yu kept Iron General as the village alarm, though his attitude soured; each morning after the rooster’s crow, his curses could be heard.

Little did they know, this act of kindness had saved a divine creature—a windfall Zhong Ming had not expected. Watching the great rooster flap its wings and disappear beyond the slope, Zhong Ming couldn’t help but laugh. Though recent days had been full of trivialities and mishaps, all was well in the end, and he had reaped many unexpected benefits.

Thinking back, it seemed his luck improved from the moment he saved that rooster: a conveniently acquired uncle, ancestral sabers and secret manuals, the old willow ghost’s gift of spiritual energy…

It was some time before Zhong Ming regained his composure. By then, Zhang Daozhen was already heading into the village, calling as he walked, "I must find a place to settle my disciple. He has suffered internal injuries and needs rest."

"Daoist Zhang, wait—I’ll take you to my house," Zhong Ming called after him, then turned to Liang Yu, "Don’t cause any more trouble! Stand here until dawn. If anything else goes wrong, I’ll hold you accountable!"

Liang Yu nodded meekly, holding the lantern and avoiding Zhong Ming’s gaze, feeling guilty over his earlier kneeling at the Immortal Stone. He dared not speak, fearing he’d betray himself. Zhong Ming noticed nothing amiss and soon led Zhang Daozhen to his house.

After settling the old Daoist at his home, Zhong Ming hurried to Grandpa Sun’s house. The people had returned, and he owed them an explanation for their peace of mind.

He closed the bamboo fence behind him and walked the muddy paths of the village. All around was silent and dark; not a single lamp was lit. Only the Seven Star Formation glimmered red from time to time, shedding faint light on his way. The village seemed a ghost town, shrouded in the eerie glow.

As he neared Grandpa Sun’s house, he heard hushed whispers. Around the Sun family’s courtyard, villagers huddled together, barely daring to breathe. Normally, the women would gossip endlessly, but now they clung to their men, whispering in low voices.

A few bolder men occasionally asked about the situation. As Zhong Ming approached, the crowd stirred to life. "The teacher is back—it’s Master Zhong!"

"Master Zhong, did you subdue the monsters on the wild hill?"

"Sir, I heard strange noises outside the village—was there an accident?"

"Step aside, let Zhong through!"

Questions came thick and fast, but Zhong Ming couldn’t answer truthfully; it would only frighten them. He reassured them, "Everything has been handled. No need to worry."

His calm words soothed the villagers, who had come to rely on him after his deeds for the village. Seeing Zhong Ming return safely, their hearts settled.

Making his way through the crowd, Grandpa Sun hurried over, brows furrowed with worry. "Little Zhong, how did it go?"

Glancing behind Zhong Ming, he asked anxiously, "Where are the two Daoists? Didn’t they return with you?"

"Uncle Sun, let’s talk inside."

Some things were best kept from the villagers, lest they panic. Inside, Zhong Ming briefly recounted what had happened on the wild hill, omitting the deaths of the old ape and Li Que, and skimming over the rest.

Grandpa Sun’s frown deepened. "So the evil spirits have escaped to wreak havoc?"

"You needn’t worry, Uncle. They won’t trouble us here. But in the next few days, there may be disturbances near the border. Tell everyone to stay home as much as possible. Tonight, with Liang Yu and the others maintaining the formation, our village is safe. Have everyone return to bed; we’ll deal with everything in the morning."

Having given his instructions, Zhong Ming did not linger, disliking noisy crowds. He left the rest to Grandpa Sun and made to leave.

As he stepped outside, Sun Luolian came forward, her face full of concern. "Brother Zhong, you’re back—are you all right?"

"I’m fine, just tired. I want to go home and rest." He waved her off, not wanting to talk more.

Biting her lip, she nodded. "Then you should hurry home and rest, Brother Zhong."

"It’s late. You should sleep, too. Everything’s fine now—no need to wait here." He smiled to reassure her and turned to leave, but after a few steps, she caught his sleeve.

Turning back, he saw her pointing at his shoulder. "Brother Zhong, your robe has a big tear. Take it off and let me mend it for you," she said softly.

Sure enough, there was a large rip at the shoulder, torn during his escape or the fight. Zhong Ming stared at it for a moment, saying nothing.

Sun Luolian thought he doubted her sewing skills—after all, last time she had mended a pair of mandarin ducks into fat ducks. Her cheeks flushed red. "Don’t worry, Brother Zhong—my sewing is much better than my embroidery," she assured him.

Realizing her embarrassment, Zhong Ming smiled and removed his outer robe. "Thank you, Lian. It’s no trouble."

"I’ll bring it to you once it’s mended," she replied, her face glowing with happiness.

Zhong Ming patted her head, smiling. "Then I’ll go rest now."

As he walked away, Sun Luolian stood holding the robe, gazing dreamily at his retreating figure.

Behind her came Grandpa Sun’s exasperated sigh. "Silly girl." He shook his head, but Sun Luolian paid him no heed, grinning as she carried the robe inside.

For the first time in ages, light shone in Mud Village—the oil lamp in the Sun family’s courtyard, where a girl sat mending her beloved’s robe.

Zhong Ming, meanwhile, thought nothing of it. He dismissed the villagers, telling them to go home. Just outside the Sun courtyard, he ran into Carpenter Li, cloaked and worried—no doubt Hu Su had told him about the evil corpses breaking through the Yaoguang position.

Getting straight to the point, Carpenter Li asked, "Zhong, the formation is powerful, but I heard—"

Before he could finish, Zhong Ming cut him off quietly, "Not here, Uncle Li—too many people around." He gestured to the crowd behind him.

Carpenter Li was a man unfazed by disaster, usually as carefree as a wandering crane. For him to speak out tonight was unusual, but it was only because his eldest son, Li Guangling, was still holding the copper lamp at the Tianshu position—he was worried for his son. Zhong Ming saw through his concern at once.

"Don’t worry, Uncle Li. Guangling’s in no danger. If you’re worried, have Hu the hunter check on him. No one can leave the formation now, and it won’t be lifted until dawn." With that, Zhong Ming waved and walked away. "I’m going home to sleep."

Carpenter Li chuckled at Zhong Ming’s evasive answer. "That boy—truly cunning."

Only when Zhong Ming’s figure vanished down the country lane did Carpenter Li recite with a smile, "The young swallow in its nest holds a hero’s spirit—do not underestimate him, my friends."

…

Under Zhong Ming’s instructions, Grandpa Sun sent all the villagers home to sleep. But though they returned, few could rest. They had not seen the corpse tide, but the strange sounds and eerie atmosphere had set their nerves on edge. They waited anxiously for dawn, trusting that daylight would banish all evil.

But would it? No one could say for sure. Who knew if the tide of corpses would truly recede with the morning light?