Chapter 234 — Taking a Life on a Night of Wind and Snow

The old man looked it over once, then nodded. "I have. They came to me asking the way."

The other Daoists in the village felt dread stir in their hearts. The old man stood right before them, yet they could not see his face.

At so close a distance his features remained utterly blurred; even when they brought every kind of heavenly eye to bear, they could not make him out, as though he were not a living man at all.

Even the Dutian Demon King held his tongue, not daring to make a sound.

This old man was a yin courier of Youdu, a deity under the command of Tubo. Such couriers could be met with in nearly every world, and the duties they bore differed one from another: some were charged with going up into the world of the living to guide wandering souls, some with ferrying the dead across, and some with seizing those great masters of divine ability who sought to escape death.

The order of Youdu and of the dead in the world of the living was in their keeping.

The Dutian world had once suffered a war of world-ending scale, one that all but destroyed it entire; in those days the land was heaped with bones, corpses lying everywhere.

The sun of the Dutian world had gone out, and nearly every place lay in gloom — yet through the boundless dark came points of light, countless points of light, and beneath each one stood an old man such as this, come to ferry the wandering souls across.

At that time the Dutian Demon King had survived the great war and become lord of Dutian. Dutian was young then, still full of hot blood; seeing these yin couriers come to ferry away the souls of Dutian's people, he charged at them at once — and was beaten half to death for it, nearly losing his own soul into the bargain.

Even now, at the sight of these yin couriers, the Dutian Demon King felt a measure of fear and did not dare speak much.

Shen Mu asked, with the utmost respect, "May I ask where they have gone?"

The old man raised a hand and pointed into the darkness. "Wuyou Land. But they will not find it; they will only be trapped there. A yin courier is waiting to collect their souls."

From the riverside came a splashing, clattering sound, and out of the Yong River men and women emerged one after another, soaked through, heads rising from the water, walking slowly toward the village, faces livid, saying nothing.

A paper boat flew out from the village; the men and women boarded it, and the paper boat drifted slowly away into the darkness.

The other Daoists in the village were badly shaken and hurried to put distance between themselves and the old man. Only then did they notice that two of their companions had not moved — they sat frozen where they were.

And on that paper boat, already gliding into the dark, there were faintly to be seen the shapes of those two.

The three remaining Daoists went cold with terror. Long Jiaonan too wore Daoist garb; her legs trembled, and she wanted to flee for her life, yet dared not, for beyond the village lay only darkness.

"Lower your heads! Do not look at that old man!"

One of the elder Daoists came to his senses and said in a fluster, "He is a yin courier! If your gaze meets his, your soul is taken!"

Long Jiaonan and the other, younger Daoist hastily bowed their heads, not daring to meet the old man's eyes.

Shen Mu's tone grew more reverent still. "May I beg you, brother of the Dao, to point out where Wuyou Land truly lies?"

The old man still pointed into the darkness and said no more.

Shen Mu frowned. The direction the old man indicated was the Living Realm of the Dead within the darkness — another underworld, the seat of Fengdu.

That time, he and the village headman had blundered into the Living Realm of the Dead and had nearly failed to come back alive!

"That is not Wuyou Land. May I ask you, brother of the Dao, where the true Wuyou Land is?"

The old man shook his head and still pointed into the darkness.

Shen Mu asked again, and the old man would speak no more.

Shen Mu's frown deepened. He simply did not have the strength to cross the darkness, and apart from the village headman, the others in the village would likely find it hard to get through as well — unless they could carry the stone statue on their backs.

He grew quiet. No other sound remained in the village save the snoring of the Dragon Qilin; it had fallen asleep.

A long while passed. No more corpses came walking out of the river, and the old man rose, sat down in his little boat, and vanished into the darkness.

Everything in the village returned to normal, and it was no longer as cold as before. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Only three Daoists remained in the village, and on Shen Mu's side there were the Dutian Demon King and the Dragon Qilin.

The battered stone statue gave off a faint, dim glow, holding the darkness at bay on every side. Something stirred in Shen Mu's heart; he looked at the woman Daoist, smiled slightly, and said to the other two, "You two Daoist masters have faces I do not know. From what immortal land do you come?"

The elder of the two said, "The Sect Master of the Youmo Sect asks, and we dare not conceal it. This mountain man and his disciple come from the Xingdou Tianluo Sect. I am Daoist Chiyun, and this is my unworthy disciple, Shao Yuan. Those two just now were my disciples as well; alas, their fortune was poor, and they met the yin courier's gaze and had their souls hooked away."

Shen Mu's manner turned solemn with respect. "So you are masters of the Xingdou Tianluo Sect. The sect master of the Xingdou Tianluo Sect — he is called Luo Xinghe, is he not?"

"Sect Master Luo was my master. He has passed away."

Daoist Chiyun said bleakly, "That day, when the Youmo Sect carried off the mountain within Daxiang City, my master died at the hands of the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping."

"I see." Shen Mu nodded.

Beyond the village the cold wind howled in the darkness, moaning and wailing. The few in the village fell quiet again, saying not a word. The two Daoists took the sword cases from their backs and began carefully wiping them down. Long Jiaonan smiled, lightly stroking the earring beneath her earlobe.

Shen Mu reached into the Taotie Pouch, but did not draw his hand out; the smile still hung on his face.

A few crystalline snowflakes drifted past in the sky and settled among them.

The night was not a quiet one; without their noticing, it had begun to snow.

The Dutian Demon King sensed that something in the air was amiss and quietly kicked the Dragon Qilin. The Dragon Qilin woke, looked around, found nothing out of the ordinary, and buried its head to sleep again.

The Dutian Demon King was furious. "Lazy wretch! What is the use of keeping him?"

The snow fell harder and harder, and soon everyone had a dusting of white upon them.

Just then a sudden Buddha's name rang out, and every heart in the village tightened. The invocation had come from the darkness. Shen Mu drew his hand from the Taotie Pouch; Long Jiaonan let her hand fall from her earring; the two Daoists set down their sword cases.

Light came out of the darkness, and a big-headed, fat-eared monk walked out of it. He glanced around, pressed his palms together, and said, "Forgive the intrusion, benefactors."

Shen Mu did not dare be remiss; he rose hastily and said, "We are travelers here ourselves. It is no intrusion."

Behind the great monk came a sturdy fellow, black-haired all over, his body knotted with muscle, sixteen feet tall, reeking of demonic qi, like a man-shaped ape, holding a monk's staff. He said in surprise, "Little Bean!"

Shen Mu was astonished beyond measure. He looked at the staff and recognized it as the Ximilo he had given to the Xuanliao Demon Ape. "Big Fellow!" he blurted. "What are you doing here? You have taken human form?"

The demon-ape, both startled and delighted, came forward to greet Shen Mu, and pointing at the fat monk said, "Bald, little!"