18: The Villainous Guest in the Village Is a Strange Beast

At this time, the world was still relatively peaceful. Travelers came and went along the main road, and seeing Yi Fan did not raise any suspicion. Ever since the present emperor fell ill and was bedridden, countless Daoists and monks had appeared, with rumors of charlatans stirring unrest. The authorities had suppressed these disturbances several times, preventing greater chaos.

A small child sat atop Yi Fan’s shoulders, occasionally tugging at his Daoist knot, thoroughly enjoying himself. An elderly man stood nearby, smiling and making no attempt to stop him. Along the journey, their relationship had warmed, and it was clear that Yi Fan was not a stickler for propriety.

“There’s a village ahead. Let’s rest there for the night and set out again tomorrow.”

Yi Fan saw a settlement not far in the distance, surrounded by fields where farmers worked the rice straw. He approached, greeted them, and explained his purpose.

The farmer hesitated. “Master Daoist, the village has been unsettled lately. It would be better for you to continue another ten miles to the market and find lodging there.”

“We’ve walked all day. Our stomachs are empty, thirst and hunger gnaw at us. The weather is bitterly cold; if we continue for another ten miles, night will surely have fallen.”

The farmer grew anxious, glancing around cautiously and lowering his voice. “Recently, there have been disturbances by monsters at night in the village. No one’s been harmed, but it’s frightening. If you’re not afraid, I won’t stop you.”

“Monsters, you say? I have some skill in dealing with such things.”

Yi Fan chuckled, turning to the child on his shoulders. “Are you afraid?”

“With Master Daoist here, Chong’er isn’t afraid.”

The child shook his head, making the old man smile wryly, saying nothing.

Yi Fan patted the child’s leg. “See? Even a child isn’t afraid, so why should I be?”

The farmer eyed Yi Fan suspiciously. He seemed too young to possess any real Daoist ability, perhaps just another wandering fraud. Not long ago, the villagers had pooled money to hire a renowned sorcerer to deal with the monster, but the man had been so frightened he fled in the night.

Well, since this Daoist wasn’t superstitious, let him be. The farmer stomped his foot. “Follow me, then. But let me say this: if anything happens, I take no responsibility.”

“Naturally. Please rest assured; I will bear all consequences myself.”

Seeing Yi Fan’s promise, the farmer no longer hesitated. He gathered his tools, slung his hoe over his shoulder, and led the way. Not far along, someone called out, and after hearing the reason, was surprised. Many travelers passed through, but most chose to walk the extra miles rather than stay after hearing the villagers’ warnings.

Yi Fan and his companions, however, showed no fear, even seemed eager, which raised suspicions.

The village was small, with just over a hundred households nestled by mountain and water. Houses were scattered artfully, smoke curled from chimneys, and even in winter, the place had its own charm.

They arrived at a courtyard, and the farmer asked them to wait outside while he went in. After a moment, he returned with an elderly man.

“Village Chief, these are the Daoists seeking lodging. I tried to persuade them otherwise, but they insisted.”

Yi Fan greeted the chief. “We seek shelter for the night. I hope you will permit it.”

The chief was appointed by the county, chosen for his virtue, and managed grain collection and village disputes. Seeing Yi Fan’s proper manners, not like a wild Daoist, the chief’s eyes glimmered and he smiled. “Since you wish to stay, you are welcome. I’ll have someone arrange rooms.”

“Thank you, Chief.”

Yi Fan expressed his gratitude. Since the chief made no mention of monsters, Yi Fan would not ask, lest he cause misunderstanding.

Their lodging was a dilapidated old house. Villagers brought bedding and food, then left. Yi Fan thought nothing of it; as night had already fallen, he instructed everyone to rest early.

Winter nights were especially cold. The wind howled outside, and by midnight, frost had settled under the moonlight like a blanket of snow.

Yi Fan opened his eyes, seeing the grandfather and child sleeping soundly beside him. Smiling, he took a small “Evil-Dispelling Talisman” from his robe and affixed it above the door, then stepped outside.

He tightened his robe, exhaled a cloud of mist. Even with his cultivation, the cold bit deep. Stomping his feet, he walked out.

...

Ren You lit a brass oil lamp, the acrid smoke stinging his nose. He frowned, seeing it was past midnight, and opened the door to step outside.

The cold made him rub his hands. Hearing a knock at the gate, he hurried to answer.

A graceful woman stood outside, and upon seeing Ren You, she smiled gently. “Come inside quickly. It’s freezing out here; you’ll catch cold.”

“You’re right, Embroideress. I’ll come in now.”

She smacked Ren You in mock annoyance, then laughed at herself.

Once inside, an old lady called from the inner room. “Is that Embroideress?”

The old lady was a light sleeper—any disturbance outside woke her. She put on a cotton jacket and came out.

Embroideress hurried to greet her. “Mother, it’s cold tonight. You shouldn’t come out.”

The old lady drew Embroideress close, her face full of kindness. “Mother’s not afraid of the cold. It’s you who have suffered, coming every night to help with chores and support the household. It makes me feel guilty.”

“Mother, please don’t say such things. This is what I ought to do. You need not blame yourself.”

“Yes, Mother, please go back and rest. Don’t catch a chill.”

The old lady smiled, tapping Ren You’s head with her finger. “You, you! Don’t you know to care for your wife? You deserve a scolding.”

Suddenly, there was a rustling outside, followed by a shrill cry, startlingly loud in the quiet night. Embroideress turned pale, terror in her eyes.

“It’s come again! It never gives up—it wants to kill me!”

Embroideress wept bitterly, covering her face, while Ren You flushed with anger and shouted, “I’ll fight it!”

Grabbing a hoe from the courtyard, he rushed out, leaving Embroideress and the old lady speechless and frightened.

He flung the gate open, and saw a tall figure outside. In the moonlight, silver fur glinted—it was a large monkey. Seeing Ren You emerge with a hoe, it shrank back, frightened.

“You fiend, get out! Don’t you dare harm my wife, or I’ll fight you!”

Confronted by the strange beast, Ren You’s anger lingered, but fear crept in. He brandished the hoe, threatening to strike.

The silver-haired beast hesitated, glanced at Embroideress inside, then stepped forward, baring its teeth fiercely and howling, as if protesting, yet also appearing aggrieved and indignant.

Seeing its ferocious visage, Ren You stumbled and fell. Embroideress, sensing danger, rushed out to shield him.

“If you must kill, kill me, but don’t harm my Ren Lang.”

The silver beast moved to advance, but the old lady stepped forward, pale-faced, blocking Embroideress.

“If you want to kill her, you must kill me first!”

A chorus of cries arose, but the silver beast grew agitated, retreating a few steps, then advancing again, wavering in indecision.