Chapter Sixty — The Yin-Spirit Outing

Li Daoxuan widened his eyes, gazing at that free-spirited figure in bright-yellow Daoist robe and straw sandals.

"Zhang——Qian——yang!"

The Meiling Mountain God stomped underfoot was full of humiliation; he roared, and the scattered stones regathered, mending his broken body.

He pushed with stone-arms, meaning to rise.

Zhang Qianyang picked at his ear and said with disdain, "Shout so loud for what — grandpa's right here."

So saying he planted his other foot on him as well.

Boom!

The nearly-risen Meiling Mountain God fell again, cracking the ground with fissures.

"Meiling-second, easy now — don't you go smashing the Lady's fine place!"

Zhang Qianyang stood upon the Meiling Mountain God, teasing and jesting.

The Meiling Mountain God flew into a rage; he worked his life-divine-power, growing ever larger, truly like a mountain.

There was even a hint of the "Dharma-Heaven-Earth" transformation to it.

"The Meiling God is going all out — showing his true form?"

"He is sacrificing his cultivation, dragging the Meiling divine-power across hundreds of li by force; this one stroke costs him at least fifty years of Dao-record!"

"After so many years, Zhang Qianyang at last reappears — still so domineering!"

Boom!

The earth trembled; as the Meiling Mountain God grew, the divine-power within him grew ever stronger.

The huge rock-body quivered, and he even had the air of rising.

"Zhang Qianyang — with the you of now, you cannot hold me down!"

Zhang Qianyang gave a cold snort, his long beard fluttering; he raised the Dao-finger.

"Three mountains and five peaks — come into my body; suppress!"

Boom!

The rising Meiling Mountain God gave a start; his two thick arms shattered outright into countless fragments of stone, and his vast body collapsed with a crash, pinned flat to the ground.

This scene was most astonishing; the huge Meiling Mountain God and the tiny Zhang Qianyang formed a stark contrast — Zhang Qianyang upon his back was like an ant standing on a giant.

Yet it was this little ant that broke the giant's arms and pinned him fast.

Li Daoxuan thought — fortunate the Meiling Mountain God's face was also of stone, or it would be red to the ears by now.

"Impossible — Zhang Qianyang, you are no longer Yang-Spirit; same Yin Spirit as I, how can you suppress me!"

The Meiling Mountain God gave an unwilling roar.

This too reminded many watching cultivators; they looked closely at Zhang Qianyang and found it indeed so.

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"He now seems… a Yin-Spirit outing — his spirit-soul bright as the moon, flowing with light — indeed the Yin-Spirit realm!"

"Heh-heh — you ever seen so fierce a Yin-Spirit? Lift a foot and pin a late Yin-Spirit Meiling Mountain God!"

"Perhaps he feigns — deliberately posing as Yin-Spirit to lure enemies near, then net them all; what a vicious mind — worthy indeed of Longhu's first ruthless man!"

Li Daoxuan too noticed his master's state; he was not his true flesh now, but a Yin-Spirit outing.

No wonder the master had not brought his wine-gourd.

"Master!"

Li Daoxuan cried out cheerfully, waving his hand.

Though the master often wore a not-quite-serious face, Li Daoxuan had to admit that the instant he saw his master appear, a sense of security welled in him.

To have someone shielding you — how fine!

Zhang Qianyang waved to his own disciple and showed a smile.

"Stinky boy — your master came all this way to back you up; back home you must buy me more good wine!"

He paused, then added, "And a fine coffin besides — the old one is too hard, it jabs my butt."

Li Daoxuan laughed; there it was — for all his majesty, the master could not hold the pose three seconds.

The Meiling Mountain God was still roaring.

Zhang Qianyang kicked his rock-mouth to shards and humped. "What are you ghost-howling about? Years ago you got drunk and shed the mountain's body, crushing passing folk; Dao-grandpa drew heavenly thunder and split your temple — had not the Sword Immortal Xu of Wanshou Palace pleaded for you, Dao-grandpa would have killed you then!"

Li Daoxuan understood — no wonder, on learning his master was Zhang Qianyang, the Meiling Mountain God had been gloomy all along; there was this old grudge.

Zhang Qianyang stood upon the mountain god and looked around, his gaze proud and sweeping; all lowered their heads, afraid to be singled out.

The one-time Longhu first ruthless man — even fallen from the Yang-Spirit realm — could easily suppress a late Yin-Spirit Meiling Mountain God; such cultivation was truly fearsome!

Zhang Qianyang… was still that Zhang Qianyang!

One man, however, boldly looked straight at Zhang Qianyang, his gaze giving way to none.

Zhang Qianyang extended a hand and pointed at the man. "You there — wearing a shaman robe, a Horse-Riding line disciple?"

Wang Bo was about to speak when his master hurried forward and laughed. "Mistaken, mistaken — we are… Western-region cloaks, not any Horse-Riding line."

Good heavens — under Zhang Qianyang's fearsome might, he would not even own his own sect.

Zhang Qianyang gave a heh-heh. "Dao-grandpa is not blind; this robe I saw your saintess wear — only white, her figure that called a…"

Catching his disciple's gaze, Zhang Qianyang coughed and said with straightened mien, "How fares your saintess now?"

Wang Bo, ignoring his master's eyes, spoke out. "She has been reborn; when she emerged from that place she was utterly broken. Zhang-predecessor, you were too—"

Bang!

Wang Bo's master's arm swelled, covered in fur like a brown bear's, and slapped hard at the back of his disciple's head.

Wang Bo gave a muffled grunt and fainted dead away.

"Ha-ha — my disciple grows sleepy; I shall not disturb the predecessor and the Lady — farewell!"

Wang Bo's master slung the fainted disciple on his back; black mist gathered behind him into two great wings, and he fled in panic.

Those at the feast rose one after another.

"Cough — this one too takes leave!"

"That… I recall my washing not yet gathered — farewell, farewell!"

"Bad — my wife is in labor — farewell!"

…

They left one and all; human or demon, all had heard Zhang Qianyang's fierce name. Perhaps his divine power fell short of the Lady in Green, but he acted without restraint, reckless to the extreme, arrogant beyond measure — and the strong who died at his hand were countless!

Seeing the crowd flee as from plague, Li Daoxuan opened his mouth wide, gaining once more a clear notion of his master's fearsome name.

This is Longhu's first ruthless man?

The Meiling Mountain God had fully fainted, lost to consciousness.

Zhang Qianyang drifted down, clapped his hands, and laughed. "Disciple — was your master mighty?"

"Only that your master is old now, and the temper not so hot; had it been the old days, these dared trouble my disciple, I'd first bind them and lock them in the latrine three days and nights before a word more!"

Li Daoxuan asked, somewhat curious, "Master, that Horse-Riding line's saintess… what in the world happened?"

"Heh-heh — that wench relied on her beauty, violated the Horse-Riding line's ancestral rule by coupling with a fierce demon, and with charm-art deluded the court's officials, harming who knows how many common folk!"

"Your master learned of it and stripped her soul and drew off her spirit; heh-heh, she prided her beauty — your master suppressed her beneath the latrine pit, set a twenty-year ban, and let her keep company with the old night-soil, that she might stink-pretty to her heart's content."

Li Daoxuan's mouth twitched; that picture, just to think of it was nauseating — no wonder Wang Bo had said that when the saintess's soul came up from the latrine, she was utterly broken.