Chapter 21 Chapter Twenty-One — The Farmer and the Snake

Next dawn.

The storm of the night before had cleared; the air was full of the scent of dust and fresh grass, the red sun newly risen, the morning light pleasant.

The scholar and the girl had spent the night in the Five-Tong Temple, and now prepared to leave that haunted place.

He glanced at the white fox in his cousin's arms, a flicker of displeasure in his eyes.

Last night the white fox had clung to his cousin and refused to leave, leaving him no chance to do as he pleased.

Stepping out of the temple, he saw the guards drinking water.

The guard captain handed the scholar a clean waterskin, respectful. "Young Master, have a drink — we've a long road yet."

The scholar nodded, took it, drank a few mouthfuls, then frowned. "Why does this water taste strange?"

It simply did not sit right with him.

The captain forced a smiling face. "The great rain last night, perhaps — some seeped in."

The scholar gave a cold snort, did not scold, only tossed the waterskin back and said dryly, "Let's be off."

By now he had lost all the interest he'd had before climbing the mountain, and thought only of getting home to rest.

The only comfort left him was, perhaps, the ancient Fish-Intestine Sword at his waist.

Then, with a great bang, the temple door slammed shut of its own accord, and from within came his cousin's terrified screams.

The scholar started and ran to push the door — but it would not budge an inch.

This baffled him; he had noted especially the night before that the door was old and worn, impossible to lock from within.

He peered through the crack and saw a flash of snow-white skin, and black, disheveled hair.

Garment after garment was being torn — and with it came his cousin's screams, rent and desperate.

The scholar's eyes near split; he cried to the guards, "Quick — break this door down!"

The guards came up to ram it. They were picked men, skilled hands all — yet now, straining with all their might, they could not move it a hair.

Inside, the cousin's screaming grew yet more piteous.

The scholar burned with urgency and roared, "Draw your blades — hew the door apart!"

…

He knew not how long passed before the screaming within faded, and the cousin's throat — once clear as an oriole's — was now terribly hoarse.

The door had been chopped to splinters. The scholar was first through, and the sight that met him set his hair on end.

Upon the filthy ground lay a slender beauty, her body all bruises, the white dress beneath her soaked red with blood.

A pale-faced young dandy in fine robes was setting his sleeves to rights, a cruel smile at his lips.

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"Your cousin — quite tender."

The scholar saw his dying cousin, and with a clang drew the Fish-Intestine from his waist, roaring as he thrust at the pale-faced dandy.

Clatter!

The sword fell to the ground. The serpent demon seized his wrist and squeezed lightly — crack went the bone, and the scholar's wrist was shattered, dangling at a ghastly angle.

"Save the Young Master!"

The guards rushed up together, hacking at the pale-faced dandy.

In the next breath, the dandy's skin swelled abruptly and burst like cloth, and out wormed a great serpent some ten yards long; one gulp and it swallowed a guard whole.

"A demon!"

"A serpent demon — a real serpent demon!"

"Run, quick!"

In less than three breaths the guards had lost several to its maw, and the blades in their hands, striking its body, raised nothing but sparks — not even a mark.

In an instant the guards were seized with panic and fled for their lives.

But the serpent demon meant to spare none. Its body lashed out, swift as could be, and one by one it devoured those scattered guards to the last — not one escaped!

Then it crawled slowly to the trembling scholar and opened its bloody maw.

The scholar shook all over; he wept and wailed, dropping to his knees and kowtowing again and again. At this moment, what beauty, what dignity — nothing mattered but life!

Born to a great and illustrious house, on the very cusp of rising through the examinations, how could he bear to die in a serpent's jaws?

"Don't kill me, don't kill me, I beg you!"

"You like my cousin — I—I'll give her to you, do whatever you will, only don't kill me!"

The dying girl heard her beloved speak so, and her heart near burst with fury; she spat a mouthful of blood into the scholar's face, and then died outright.

The serpent demon spoke in human tongue, calm. "Come to think of it, I should thank you indeed — but for you, I might have died at that Daoist's hands. Pity, though…"

Its serpent-eyes blood-red, it raged, "How dared you overturn this seat's censer?"

Now remorse filled the scholar's heart; he only hated that he had not heeded the Daoist, that greed for the sword had blinded him, and brought him to this end.

With a hiss, the serpent demon swallowed the scholar whole, then looked once at the cruelly slain girl — and without hesitation swallowed her too!

Having eaten a dozen-odd souls, its body was somewhat bloated; it coiled before the idol, meaning to sleep a while.

Then a voice rang out.

"Had your fill?"

The serpent demon started awake and looked toward the temple's mouth.

Li Daoxuan was still in his green Daoist robe; the disheveled hair of the night before was bound again into a Daoist topknot. Talisman in hand, he said calmly, "Full? Good — I'll send you on your way."

"Foul Daoist — you haunt me like a ghost!"

Fury blazed in the serpent demon's eyes. It shot from the old temple, head reared high, its great body rising more than ten meters tall!

Its tail even gave its shrill rattle.

"Foul Daoist, this seat had not yet come for you, yet you dare deliver yourself to my door — truly courting death!"

The serpent demon was utterly unafraid. The realgar wine's force of last night had passed; the wound the Fish-Intestine had dealt was healed seven-tenths; and having newly eaten so many, its mana was all but restored.

This little Daoist, though he had some cultivation, was not deep — ripe to settle last night's grudge!

Yet facing the serpent demon's threats, Li Daoxuan was composed, and smiled. "Serpent, let us see whether any come to save you now — with your 'fortune of destiny'? Heh. You fiend, this Daoist will kill you today, without fail!"

The serpent demon, shamed to rage, opened its maw to bite Li Daoxuan — but Li Daoxuan only worked Shrinking the Earth, Divine Striding; his form flickered and wavered, darting and weaving, and again and again slipped the serpent's assaults.

For a time the whole of the rocky mountain trembled faintly; trees and grass toppled, and everywhere were the marks of the great serpent's passage.

"Heh — can you only talk big? Weren't you going to kill this seat? Why do you scurry like a foul little rat?"

Li Daoxuan was unmoved, only smiling faintly, as if certain of victory.

A moment later the enraged serpent demon suddenly faltered, frozen in place, a look of pain flashing in its eyes.

Then it began to thrash upon the ground, agonized unto death, its breath weakening sharply.

"This seat… what is happening to me?"

Li Daoxuan stepped upon a tree branch and looked down at it, calm. "Nothing much — only that I fed you a little realgar wine."

"Impossible — never!"

"Heh. Among the folk there is a way with venomous snakes: fill a dead rat with poison, then lure the snake to eat it. That trick, it turns out, works well enough on a serpent demon too."

At Li Daoxuan's words the serpent demon's eyes flew wide, and understanding dawned.

"You… you secretly put realgar wine in those people's water!"

Li Daoxuan snapped his fingers and smiled. "Clever — but too late. Those people are even now being digested by you; the realgar wine within them will naturally pass into your own body."

From the rocky mountain came a mournful, furious roar.

"Foul Daoist — you are vile!"