“Ha~choo~”
Jia Xianren was lying on the deck chair prepared by the village, bored and yawning.
He had been waiting for the so-called He Shen of the village to appear, then he would use his Sanmei Truefire Red Gourd to capture it.
To boost his own reputation, collect his reward, and then make a run for it.
His… father had dreamed of cultivating immortality since childhood, so when he was born, his father named him Xianren.
But the problem was his surname was “Jia.”
Sigh, hurry up and finish this already, he was very busy.
“Hey, Old Village Chief! Once I’ve caught this monster, don’t forget the twenty taels of silver reward, and make sure to handle a little favor for me.”
“That’s a given. As long as Immortal Lord helps us get rid of this calamity, we’ll follow you without hesitation.”
The Old Village Chief smiled as he replied. He seemed to have great hopes for this demon-slaying.
His gaze fell on a middle-aged man.
The man nodded, then shouted in a rough voice, “The ritual begins!”
As soon as he spoke, a burly black man suddenly struck a copper gong.
“Dong—!”
“Dong—!”
“Dong—!”
Three strikes—the agreed signal between the He Shen and the village.
Only three hits on the gong were needed during the ceremony.
Though sometimes it required several rounds, probably because the deity was resting.
“Um… Immortal Lord, please wait a bit longer, something’s off today…”
“Enough, enough. I’m going to lie down for a while. Hurry and call me when it’s ready.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jia Xianren looked relaxed, as if victory was assured for this demon hunt.
For scattered cultivators like them—no talent, no backing, no sects willing to take them in—they could only look for opportunities everywhere.
In recent years, for some unknown reason, the storyteller profession suddenly boomed, and a slew of popular passionate stories appeared.
Stories like the worthless one who was rejected for marriage but rose after thirty years, or the defiant cultivator who built a harem…
After wasting some time in the past, hearing these storytellers made him realize that even a waste could make it.
As long as one could find opportunities.
But opportunities wouldn’t just come knocking like a rabbit on a stump; he decided to search thoroughly.
Half a year ago, a master gave him a Sanmei Truefire Red Gourd.
Though he was useless, he still managed to grasp the basics of guiding qi into the body. It took ten years, but with this treasure, he broke through the first layer of Qi Refinement.
That sensation of qi flowing throughout his body—he had to admit, cultivation was truly exhilarating!
After several more rounds of gong strikes, there was finally a stir beneath the spring water.
The silent water surface started bubbling continuously, but contrary to expectations, nothing burst forth.
Instead, a dark shadow appeared beneath the water.
Birds in the distant woods fluttered in alarm, causing the altar’s incense flames to flicker wildly. The atmosphere abruptly turned grim and eerie.
The shadow beneath the water rippled and twisted under the waves.
Then a heavy voice broke through the water’s surface, echoing in everyone’s ears.
“Is the offering… ready?”
The Old Village Chief bowed slightly upon hearing the voice and pointed to some pigs and cattle nearby.
“Great He Shen, all are here.”
At that moment, the tied-up pigs and cattle struggled violently, as if sensing something.
The Old Village Chief broke out in cold sweat. After a brief silence, the voice came again, this time tinged with anger and impatience.
“Hmph? Didn’t I make myself clear? I want a girl! Do you understand? A girl! Fifteen or sixteen years old!”
Jia Xianren laughed upon hearing this.
He stood up and patted the Old Village Chief’s trembling shoulder.
“Alright, Old Village Chief, you can step back now. Leave the rest to me.”
Hearing this, the Old Village Chief seemed to be reassured, his face lighting up with a smile.
“In that case, we entrust you, Immortal Lord.”
With that, the Old Village Chief hurriedly withdrew into the crowd, joining the others in prayer.
Jia Xianren turned his back to the villagers, hands on his hips, glaring arrogantly at the writhing shadow beneath the water, nostrils flaring.
His tone was even more arrogant than the He Shen’s.
“Hey, little monster, want to eat people? Did you ask me first?”
Hearing Jia Xianren, two red glimmers like eyes appeared in the shadow beneath the water.
One eye shrank, the other widened—like a staring contest—looking up at the man above.
“Oh, you little monster are kind of cute, big eye staring at little eye.”
“Who are you? Their hired muscle?”
“Hey! You don’t even recognize me? Listen up, I’m the Fire Lord, famous all around these ten miles! Jia! Xian! Lord…”
Before Jia Xianren could finish, a whirlpool formed at the center of the spring, slowly rising with a splashing sound.
Then, a water-formed dragon’s head appeared vividly.
The scene silenced Jia Xianren mid-sentence.
My ancestors and their eighteen generations of immortals! Damn, is this really the He Shen? He didn’t say anything about this before!
“And then? Why don’t you continue talking?”
The water dragon spoke with a majestic voice.
The villagers around were on edge, but it wasn’t their fault the situation wasn’t explained clearly.
In fact, the He Shen had never shown its face before.
They only knew that roughly three years ago, it had appeared here a little, and every time the offering was made, it was just its voice that appeared, and then it would sink back into the spring water.
Jia Xianren bit his tongue to calm himself. Strangely, he didn’t sense the creature’s demon qi to be very strong—maybe even weaker than his.
He quickly pulled out a Red Gourd—the Sanmei Truefire Red Gourd.
“Damn you, stinky monster! With this little demon qi, you think you can fool me? I’ll show you the power of my Sanmei Truefire!”
The moment he took out the gourd, Jia Xianren felt confident. He had eliminated many demons with this.
The gourd was about the size of an ordinary wine gourd, but entirely red with golden, flame-like patterns at its base.
Jia Xianren formed a hand seal, and a flame burst from the gourd’s mouth.
But at that moment, the water dragon opened its huge mouth, releasing a pale blue glow mixed with water rushing toward Jia Xianren.
Jia Xianren grinned.
This was Sanmei Truefire—the fire wouldn’t go out in the rain. Just a little contact with a monster and it would be annihilated both body and spirit…
But to his surprise, the Sanmei Truefire fireball collided with the pale blue water stream without a single spark flying.
It just made a soft “sizzle” sound, releasing a faint mist barely visible, then vanished in the blink of an eye.
The water flowed freely, soaking Jia Xianren from head to toe, from hair tips to pant cuffs.
“Shit?”
Jia Xianren was stunned. He quickly tried to form another hand seal to recover the situation, but no fire came out from the gourd.
Only a thin white mist drifted out slowly, like steam from a boiling kettle, moist and lukewarm.
The villagers nearby were dumbfounded.
Is this some monkey bringing reinforcements? Using fire to fight water?
Jia Xianren’s face flushed bright red, panic-stricken.
Cold sweat poured from his palms, fingers gripping the gourd so tightly his knuckles whitened.
He was done for—this time his grand act had totally backfired!
“Anything else?”
The water dragon spoke.
Jia Xianren had no confidence left; his whole body wilted.
Could a master come save the day at a time like this?!
……
“Qiao’er-jie, by now it should already be over, right?”