Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Arrogance Section Three

It didn’t take long for Wei Wuxian to realize he might have made a wrong choice.

It was just a donkey, but it only ate fresh dewy grass. If the grass tips were the slightest bit yellow, it wouldn’t touch them. Wei Wuxian stole some wheat straw from a nearby farm to feed it, but after a few chews, the donkey spat it out, louder than any person could spit. When it wasn’t satisfied, it refused to move, threw tantrums, and reared up, nearly kicking Wei Wuxian several times. To make matters worse, its braying was extremely unpleasant.

As either a mount or a pet, it was completely useless!

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but miss his sword. That sword was probably now hung on the wall of some prestigious clan’s house, displayed as a trophy.

After dragging the donkey for a while, they passed by a large village field. The scorching sun hung high, and by the edge of the field stood a large locust tree. Under the tree, in the cool shade, there was an old well. Villagers had placed a bucket and a ladle by the well for passing travelers to quench their thirst. The spotted donkey ran to this spot and refused to go any further. Wei Wuxian jumped off and patted its hindquarters, saying, “You live a life of luxury, harder to please than I am.”

The donkey snorted at him.

As he loitered about, a group of people approached from the distant paths.

These people carried woven bamboo baskets on their backs, wore simple cloth shirts and straw sandals, and looked every bit like country folk. Among them was a round-faced girl, passably pretty. Perhaps wanting to escape the heat and have a drink after walking under the scorching sun for so long, she hesitated when she saw the kicking, braying donkey and a madman with disheveled hair and painted face sitting under the tree.

Wei Wuxian, who always prided himself on being a gentleman who cherished the fairer sex, shifted a bit to make room, giving up the spot to deal with the spotted donkey. Seeing that he meant no harm, the group cautiously approached. Everyone was sweating profusely, their faces red. They fanned themselves and drew water. The round-faced girl sat by the well, seemingly understanding that Wei Wuxian had intentionally given up his spot for them, and smiled gratefully at him.

One of the men held a strange compass and, after looking into the distance, said in confusion, “Why is the needle still not moving even though we’re almost at the foot of Dafan Mountain?”

This compass, with its intricate engravings and needle, was no ordinary compass. It didn’t point to directions but to malevolent spirits and demonic auras—a “Wind Evil Compass.” Wei Wuxian knew at once that this was a poor, rural family of cultivators. Besides the well-off prestigious clans who enjoyed refined pursuits, there were many small, self-taught families like this one. Wei Wuxian guessed they were either heading to some distant relative’s prestigious clan or going night hunting.

The middle-aged leader called out to the others to come and drink water, saying, “Maybe your compass is broken; we’ll get you a new one later. We’re less than ten miles from Dafan Mountain; we can’t rest for long. After traveling dusty roads all this way, if we slacken now and fall behind, someone else might beat us to it. That wouldn’t be worth it.”

Wei Wuxian nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how important it was to stay ahead in the world of night hunts.

Indeed, it was a night hunt. Many prestigious clans, in their pursuit of elegance, referred to traveling far and wide to slay demons and defeat evil as “a hunt.” Since these creatures often appeared at night, they called it a “night hunt.” There were countless cultivating families, but only a few became renowned. Unless a prestigious clan had accumulated wealth and prestige over generations, ordinary clans had to earn respect and recognition in the Daoist sects through achievements. Only by capturing ferocious beasts or malevolent spirits plaguing an area could a clan gain influence.

This was Wei Wuxian’s specialty. But over the past few days, he had been running around, breaking into graves and only catching minor demons. He was in dire need of a powerful ghost general to serve under him. He decided to head to Dafan Mountain to try his luck. If he found something useful, he’d capture it for his own use.

After resting, the group prepared to leave. Before they went, the round-faced girl took out a not-quite-ripe apple from her box and offered it to Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian reached out with a grin, but the donkey raised its head, bared its teeth, and tried to snatch the apple. Wei Wuxian quickly grabbed it. Seeing how much the donkey wanted the apple, Wei Wuxian had a brilliant idea. He found a long stick and a fishing line, tied the apple to it, and dangled it in front of the donkey. The donkey, smelling the fresh scent of the apple, chased after the elusive fruit. It raced ahead nonstop, faster than any fine horse Wei Wuxian had ever seen.

Without pausing, the donkey carried Wei Wuxian to Dafan Mountain by dusk. Only when he reached the foot of the mountain did he realize that this “Fan” was not the “Dafan” (Great Feast) Mountain he had expected. From afar, the mountain’s shape resembled a short, stout Buddha, hence its name. At the foot of the mountain was a small town called Fozu Town.

There were far more cultivators gathered here than he had expected, a chaotic mix of various clans and sects, their robes dazzling in the street. Everyone seemed on edge, and even in his disheveled, ghostly state, no one paid him any mind or mocked him.

In the middle of the street, a group of cultivators stood together, engaged in a serious discussion. Their conversation, which had started calmly, grew heated. Wei Wuxian overheard them from a distance:

“I don’t think there’s any soul-eating beast or malevolent spirit here at all. None of the indicators on the Wind Evil Compass have moved.”

“If there isn’t, then how do you explain the missing souls of these seven villagers? Do you think they all caught the same strange illness? I’ve never heard of such a disease!”

“Just because the compass didn’t detect anything doesn’t mean there’s nothing here. It can only give a general direction; it’s not precise enough to be fully trusted. Maybe something nearby is interfering with its readings.”

“Are you suggesting the compass is wrong? I’ve never heard of anything capable of disrupting its readings.”

“I never said it couldn’t be wrong, and I never claimed it was perfect. Why are you twisting my words?”

They began arguing in another direction as Wei Wuxian rode the donkey past, chuckling to himself. After all these years, he was still a hot topic among cultivators. If there were a poll for the most enduring popularity in the cultivation world, it would undoubtedly be him—Wei Wuxian, the center of controversy.

To be fair, the cultivator had a point. The version of the Wind Evil Compass in use now was Wei Wuxian’s first prototype, and it did lack precision. He had been working on improvements, but before he could finish, his base was destroyed, leaving everyone to make do with the imperfect first version.

That said, creatures that fed on flesh and bone were mostly low-level, such as walking corpses. Only higher-level beasts or refined malevolent spirits could consume and digest souls. To eat seven souls in one go? No wonder so many clans had gathered here. Since the prey was no ordinary creature, it was understandable that the compass might have some errors.

Wei Wuxian reined in the donkey and jumped off its back, offering the apple that had lured the donkey all the way there to its mouth. “Just one bite… Spit! You’re trying to eat my whole hand!”

He took a couple more bites from the other side of the apple, then stuffed it back into the flower donkey's mouth, reflecting on how he had ended up sharing an apple with a donkey. Suddenly, his back bumped into someone. He turned to see a young girl. Although she had bumped into him, she didn’t seem to notice him at all. Her eyes were vacant, and she smiled as she stared off into the distance.

Following her gaze, Wei Wuxian looked towards a looming mountaintop. It was Dafan Mountain.

Suddenly, without warning, the girl began to dance and gesticulate wildly right in front of him.

The dance was fierce and exaggerated, with clawing motions. Wei Wuxian was watching intently when a woman rushed over, lifting her skirt, and hugged the girl, crying, “Ah Yan, let’s go home, please!”

Ah Yan forcefully shook her off, her smile never fading, carrying a chilling sense of benevolence. She continued to dance and jump, and the woman had no choice but to chase her around the street, crying as she ran. A nearby peddler said, “It’s a pity. Ah Yan from Blacksmith Zheng’s family is out again.”

“Her poor mother. Neither Ah Yan, her fiancé, nor her father are any good…”

Wei Wuxian wandered around, piecing together fragments of information from various people about the strange occurrences in the area.

Dafan Mountain housed an ancient cemetery where most of Fozu Town’s residents had their ancestral graves. Sometimes, unidentified bodies were also buried there with a simple wooden marker. Months ago, during a night of thunderstorms and heavy rain, a landslide occurred on Dafan Mountain. It was the cemetery that had collapsed. Many old graves were destroyed, and several coffins were unearthed. One coffin was struck by lightning, and its lid was blown off, leaving the corpse and coffin charred black.

The townsfolk of Fozu Town were deeply unsettled. After some prayers and restoration of the graves, they thought the matter was settled. However, since then, the town had been plagued by people losing their souls.

The first was a lazy man. He was a good-for-nothing who spent his days idly catching birds on the mountain. On the night of the landslide, he was trapped on Dafan Mountain and scared half to death, though fortunately, he survived. Strangely, just days after his return, he suddenly married a wife, threw a grand wedding, and vowed to start doing good deeds and live a peaceful life.

On his wedding night, he drank himself into a stupor and never got up after lying down. When his new wife tried to wake him, she found his eyes were glazed, and his body was cold. Except for his breathing, he was no different from a dead man. He lay there, neither eating nor drinking, for several days before finally passing away. Poor bride, she had just married and already become a widow.

The second case involved Ah Yan from Blacksmith Zheng’s family. The girl had just been engaged, but her fiancé was killed the next day while hunting by mountain wolves. Upon hearing the news, she fell into the same state as the lazy man. After some time, her soul-loss condition improved on its own, but she became eccentric, laughing and dancing in public every day, her once vibrant spirit now replaced by a haunting, hollow joy.

The third person was Ah Yan’s father, Blacksmith Zheng. So far, seven people had fallen victim to this phenomenon.

Wei Wuxian speculated that it was likely a soul-devouring sha, not a soul-devouring beast.

Though the two terms differed by only one character, they referred to completely different entities. A sha belonged to the realm of ghosts, while a beast was a demonic creature. In Wei Wuxian’s opinion, the landslide might have disturbed the ancient graves, and the lightning might have split open the coffins, releasing a long-dormant sha. To confirm, he would need to examine the coffin and check for any remaining seals. However, the townsfolk of Fozu Town must have reburied the burnt coffins and interred the remains, leaving little trace behind.

To go up the mountain, one had to take the mountain path from the town. Wei Wuxian rode his donkey at a leisurely pace up the slope. As he ascended, he encountered a group of people coming down the slope, their faces clouded with misfortune.

The group was chattering, some with injuries. As it was getting dark, they were startled when they bumped into a ghost-faced man riding a donkey. They cursed under their breath, quickly avoiding him, and hurried down the slope. Wei Wuxian pondered whether they had encountered tough prey and returned empty-handed, then patted the donkey’s rear and trotted up the mountain.

He happened to miss their ensuing complaints:

“I’ve never seen anyone so domineering!”

“A family head of such a large clan, and he comes here to snatch a soul-devouring sha from us? He must have killed countless of them when he was younger!”

“What can we do? You can’t afford to offend the Jiang family. You can offend anyone but not Jiang Cheng. Pack up, consider ourselves unlucky, and leave!”