Chapter Twenty: Hatred

As night fell, a gentle, persistent rain began to descend over Yanhe Town. The Cold Dew season had passed, and the temperature dropped sharply; every breath from the townsfolk produced a visible cloud of white mist.

Yet even in this biting cold, laughter and merriment spilled from the Jade Harmony Tavern in the heart of Yanhe Town. It was no wonder—for tonight, all the prominent figures of the town, including the mayor himself, had gathered to feast and celebrate. Their joy sprang from the capture of a fox demon that had plagued them.

Yang Shouxin, the current proprietor of Jade Harmony Tavern, was riding a wave of satisfaction. Originally, the tavern had been built from nothing by his elder brother, Yang Shoucheng. As for Shouxin, he was a ne’er-do-well, drifting through town, wasting his days in debauchery and gambling. At first, Shoucheng tried to help his brother, but Shouxin’s incorrigible ways and reckless spending eventually wore down his patience.

Living off what remained, Yang Shouxin nursed a deep resentment toward his brother and had long coveted the tavern. But Shoucheng was still young and healthy, and he had a son—Yang Yin, a boy of nine. Yin’s mother had died early, so he matured quickly. In a few years, Shoucheng would surely teach his son to manage the family business, and then the tavern would be lost to Shouxin forever.

This realization always filled Shouxin with anxiety, but he lacked the courage for murder or theft. He could only stew in frustration, nearly abandoning his ambitions altogether.

Yet fate, capricious and thrilling, intervened. When news came that Shoucheng had died—drained of life by a monster—Shouxin’s first reaction was, “Serves you right! You always scolded me for my vices, but you weren’t much better yourself!”

He soon rejoiced, “You had so much silver and were stingy with me, but you could enjoy any woman you wanted. Why play with a demon and lose your life? Ha! It’s hilarious!” Yet after seeing the demon himself that day, the humor seemed to fade.

But let us set aside those thoughts for now. Despite his reputation as a rogue, Yang Shouxin possessed a cunning mind. After his initial joy, he hurried to the mayor’s home, privately promising the mayor a tenth of the family fortune in exchange for support. The mayor, citing Yang Yin’s youth and inability to manage the household, appointed Shouxin as the boy’s guardian, saying the estate would be returned when Yin turned fourteen.

Five years was a long time. By then, who could say to whom the fortune would belong? Shouxin, recalling this, always felt a surge of pride at his own cleverness. Now, he raised his wine cup and addressed his benefactor, Mayor Liu Honest, “Mayor, thank you for calling a great master to avenge my brother. Now he can finally rest in peace. I toast to you!”

Mayor Liu replied earnestly, “Second Brother, you never listened to your elder brother before. Now that you are head of the household, perhaps you understand his painstaking care?”

Shouxin was surprised, wondering what the mayor meant. Unable to guess, he feigned wiping away tears. “Yes, yes. I was young and foolish, never understanding my brother’s difficulties. Now that he’s gone, I regret it deeply.”

“That is good. You must treat your nephew kindly. He’s lost both parents—don’t let him lose his home too!”

Shouxin finally understood. He laughed inwardly: So, your conscience troubles you, fearing I’ll mistreat Yang Yin? Hmph, you’ve taken your silver, so what use is this false pity? Now I am master of the house. However my brother treated me, I will repay Yang Yin the same way. In a year, I’ll find an excuse to throw him out. Yet outwardly, he maintained decorum and replied cheerfully, “Of course, of course! Mayor, let me finish this cup in your honor!” He drained his glass, and Mayor Liu sat down in relief.

Then Shouxin approached the Daoist in the blue robe. This Daoist, known as Master Xuan Chong, was a man Shouxin greatly admired for his mystical skills. With a fawning smile, he said, “Master, I toast to you. Thank you for driving away evil and avenging my brother!”

Xuan Chong sat upright, his expression calm. He raised a cup of tea, “As a cultivator, I cannot drink alcohol. I offer tea instead.” With that, he drained the cup.

Shouxin asked in surprise, “Isn’t abstaining from alcohol a monk’s rule? Do Daoists also follow this?”

This was a blunt question, but Xuan Chong, ever composed, replied solemnly, “There are many sects in Daoism, each with its own precepts. I follow the Five Commandments of the Old Lord: no killing, no stealing, no lust, no lying, no drinking. Thus, I must abstain.” (Author’s note: Though abstaining from meat is not among the Five Commandments, during the Tang Dynasty, the law forbade both monks and Daoists from eating meat—it was the basic rule.)

Shouxin nodded in understanding. Suddenly, a thought struck him, and he asked, “Master, today you subdued the fox demon but did not kill her outright—was it because of the prohibition against killing?”

Xuan Chong’s expression faltered, and he fell silent, implicitly confirming the suspicion. At this, the townsfolk grew uneasy, exclaiming, “Master, if you cannot kill her, won’t the demon continue to cause harm?”

Xuan Chong felt some annoyance at Shouxin’s meddling, but bound by his vow against lying, he could not deceive them. He managed a wry smile, “The fox demon is a living being, and falls under the prohibition against killing. I truly cannot slay her directly. But you need not worry—all monsters fear Daoist magic. If I recite the Dao De Jing for three days, her soul will be released, and Yanhe Town will be safe from harm.”

Reassured, the townsfolk settled down, saying, “No matter! Three days is nothing—as long as you are here, we have nothing to fear!”

Xuan Chong nodded with a smile.

But Shouxin pressed on, “Master, you are human and must rest. What if the fox demon slips away while you are unguarded, then returns to take revenge after you leave?”

The crowd grew anxious once more.

Xuan Chong glared at Shouxin, thinking, Can you not stop? He replied stiffly, “There is no need for concern! You witnessed today that I affixed a talisman to her back—the Demon Suppression Seal. It locks her powers, preventing her from using any magic, and greatly weakens her strength. She is now less powerful than a five-year-old child—escape is impossible!”

With this assurance, the townsfolk relaxed, offering their praise, “Master, your skills are remarkable—we are truly impressed!”

Seeing the Daoist’s growing displeasure, Shouxin dared not ask further, instead joining the chorus of flattery. Yet at that moment, a bold idea leapt into his mind, and he unconsciously licked his lips.

In the rear courtyard of Jade Harmony Tavern, where poultry were once kept, not a single chicken or duck remained. Instead, a cage had been erected—wooden stakes driven into the earth, the top sealed with thick planks.

Inside sat a young woman, forced to crouch in the mud. Her embroidered shoes were stained, rain dripping through the gaps in the planks above, wetting her hair and crimson dress. The talisman on her back, made of unknown material, remained untouched by the rain, emitting a faint glow in the dim night.

She was a pitiful sight, her soaked clothes clinging to her shapely form, but no one was there to admire or pity her. Alone, she hugged herself, shivering incessantly, her lips turned a striking purple from the near-freezing cold.

Zhou Hongxian still could not comprehend why the people of Yanhe Town blamed her for Yang Shoucheng’s death. All she had done was conjure a tiger to frighten him after his unwanted advances. Yet the townsfolk insisted she had drained his life, leaving her feeling disgusted and humiliated.

But what did it matter? At this moment, no one cared for the thoughts of a demon. All she wanted was a bite to eat.

Suddenly, faint footsteps approached. Zhou Hongxian retreated deeper into the cage. More than hoping for food, she feared the cold, alien gaze that had haunted her all day.

A small figure appeared in the rain, shielded by an umbrella. As he drew near, Zhou Hongxian saw it was a child—a boy.

He was very young, his hair styled in two cute topknots, his face round and cherubic, the dusk revealing his features.

“Sister, are you afraid of me?” the boy asked softly.

Seeing he was a child, Zhou Hongxian relaxed and replied gently, “Little one, what are you doing here?”

But the boy did not answer. Instead, he asked, “Sister, are you hungry?”

“Could it be this child has come to bring me food out of pity? Children are so much purer than adults,” Zhou Hongxian thought. She said, “Do you have any food? Could you give me some—just a bun would do!”

The boy’s tone dropped, “I didn’t bring a bun. I was afraid you wouldn’t eat it, because you are a demon. You only drink human blood and eat human flesh.”

Zhou Hongxian was shocked. How had even a child been so thoroughly indoctrinated? She hurriedly replied, “Little one, don’t believe the nonsense the adults say.”

But the boy’s eyes filled with tears. He threw aside his umbrella, clung to the cage, and glared at Zhou Hongxian with venom. “You demon—you killed my father! You killed my father!” His face, so young and innocent, was streaked with grief, pain, and a touch of madness, but above all, with boundless hatred.

Zhou Hongxian met his gaze in silence for a long time before she sank to the muddy ground, not caring for her dirty dress or numb body. She said, defeated, “Now I know who you are. You are Yang Yin, Yang Shoucheng’s son. Even a child like you hates me so much—I have nothing left to say.”

“Then go and die!” Yang Yin growled. From behind his back, he produced several sharp stones and hurled them at Zhou Hongxian’s face, opening several wounds. Blood mixed with rainwater streamed down her cheeks.

Yang Yin, knowing he could not kill her outright, grinned in satisfaction at his revenge and walked away without looking back. Zhou Hongxian sat there, enduring the humiliation. Even tears would not come; finally, she bowed her head and let out a helpless sigh.