Chapter Thirty: Subtle Fragrance Drifts Beneath the Evening Moon

Shen Lian stood motionless, his gaze vacant and devoid of vitality, yet his features were clear, each fine hair visible. The ethereal Shen Lian, in contrast, had a blurred and indistinct form, barely discernible. It was near dusk, and the fading rays of the setting sun streamed in. The black miasma within the room was invisible to mortal eyes.

Xu Hong, hiding nearby and clutching a beam, trembled with fear. All he could see before Shen Lian was another Shen Lian, wrapped in the golden light of the sunset, almost transparent. The faint scent of sandalwood lingered in the air, blending with the smoky dusk to create a scene like poetry or painting.

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through. Shen Lian lunged at the massive wild black boar. Though his hand held no sword, the intent of the blade was fierce within his heart. In that instant, Shen Lian entered an ethereal state. The Soul-Extinguishing Sword was a perilous technique—wounding the enemy a thousandfold, but inflicting nearly as much harm on oneself. It used one's own spirit as the blade, cleaving at the souls of others, a desperate clash at close quarters where life and death hung by a thread, the air thick with the fatalism of those with nothing left to lose.

Thus, each time the green-robed man used the Soul-Extinguishing Sword, he required a long period of recuperation, for the harm dealt to others was equally reflected upon himself—his soul's power counterbalanced by that of his foe.

But now, Shen Lian's mind was honed to a razor's edge. His spirit was on the verge of leaping free, poised to strike down the wild boar's soul directly. Yet in a sudden moment, all agitation and malice within him vanished, leaving him carefree and unburdened. He slipped once more into that first out-of-body experience—a state in which the heavens and earth regarded all things as mere straw dogs.

The primordial deity, holding a wish-granting scepter, appeared in the void, and then, suddenly, became Shen Lian himself. Threads of sandalwood aroma, mingled with sunlight, drifted into Shen Lian's soul. Though warm, they did not burn. A luminous moon rose serenely as the very last rays of the sun faded away—this was dusk, the hour when yin and yang commingle.

In that moment, Shen Lian gained new insight into the “True Explanation of Natural Locking of the Mind and Spirit,” understanding the true meaning of calming the spirit. With the mind at peace, the sharpest edge is honed; wherever the mind wills, it becomes a divine weapon—capable of severing iron and stone without sustaining the slightest harm.

He entered the state he once had when visualizing deities, a mind empty of all thoughts, ignoring any harm that sunlight or moonlight might do to the soul, becoming wholly at one. His features became more vivid and alive; he leaped forward at once, and the wild boar let out a mournful wail.

Shen Lian’s soul had returned to his body. Xu Hong saw a wild boar collapse to the ground, its eyes rolling back, clearly lifeless. He guessed this boar was the very plague god that had tormented the Yan family—just thinking of it made him sick with disgust.

Shen Lian examined the boar, its black fur glossy and standing on end, yet lacking the usual stench of wild pigs. He mused that this creature, being a spirit beast, might have flesh of some value. Recalling tales of gods and monsters, he remembered that such creatures' meat was said to be nourishing.

As he cultivated the Divine Foot Sutra, refining essence into qi, and as his body was still in the midst of growth, he needed nourishment. When Madam Yan awoke, Xu Hong recounted the matter of the Five-Pass Gods, ending with some anxiety, “What if their companions arrive—what then?”

Although Shen Lian had slain this boar-turned demon, four others remained, and Xu Hong feared Shen Lian might be outnumbered. The dusk had not yet passed; moonlight flickered. Shen Lian seemed carved from unpolished jade, his whole form wreathed in mist, a true immortal come to earth, especially after his feat of slaying demons.

Realizing his words might have caused offense, Xu Hong hastily added, “But with young Lian here, these fiends are of no concern at all.”

Shen Lian paid little heed to such trivialities and replied with a calm smile, “No need to wait for them—I shall seek them myself.”

Having defeated the wild boar, he had no fear of the remaining four. His spirit soared, his will was sharp and indomitable. He left directly, moonlight draping him in silver, his robe seeming to sprout silken feathers, his bearing graceful and captivating.

Hardly had the time passed for a single meal when, from the southeast corner of the Xu estate, where a temple stood, came sounds—sometimes like a pig being slaughtered, sometimes the desperate cries of a horse under the lash.

After the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the commotion died down. Xu Hong sent servants to investigate. They returned to say all was quiet inside, but Young Master Shen Lian called for several strong men to help carry something.

When Xu Hong arrived with his men, they found the temple idols toppled and askew. Shen Lian pointed at a pig and a horse on the ground, saying, “Uncle Xu, please have these, along with the previous pig, carried back to the inn. Also, could I borrow the cook who prepared today’s dishes for a few days?”

Xu Hong replied with delight, “No need to borrow—he’s yours.”

Madam Yan, tugging at Xu Hong’s sleeve, whispered, “That’s only three. Where are the other two?”

She referred to the corpses of the Five-Pass Gods. Of the five, only three were present. Xu Hong’s heart skipped a beat—if a snake is not killed, it may bite back. He needed to clarify.

He asked, “Nephew, do you know where the other two monsters are? I’ll help you carry them as well.”

“There were two more, with wings, but they escaped,” Shen Lian said, a note of regret in his voice. He had no means to fly; even with his spirit free, he could not traverse great distances, nor dared he let his soul stray far from his body. Though he had greatly strengthened his soul, in this mortal world he still required the protection of his flesh.

“Why not stay at my house a few more days? Forgive your Uncle Xu’s caution, but I truly fear these things,” Xu Hong said with a bitter expression. If the two monsters returned for revenge and Shen Lian was gone, what then?

“It’s late. I’ll return to the inn. Uncle Xu, remember to send the things over tomorrow—make sure nothing’s missing a limb or tail,” Shen Lian said, refusing Xu Hong’s request. He fastened his sandalwood sword and strode out.

Xu Hong wanted to stop him, but was awed by Shen Lian’s presence and dared not move. He watched Shen Lian depart, the night breeze brushing his face.

Moved by the moment, Shen Lian sang softly to himself:

“Alone I ascend the high tower, gazing toward the eight directions;
The dark clouds scatter, leaving the moon solitary.
Vast is the world, teeming with countless souls—
How many true men are there among them?”

Though he had not climbed a high tower, his spirit soared to such heights that even clouds and moon seemed beneath him. The line “Vast is the world, teeming with countless souls—how many true men are there?” was biting in its candor, and Xu Hong felt his face flush with shame.

***

At the inn, lanterns had already been hung. It was the first day of business. Manager Wu sat beneath the lamp, poring over the account books, sighing, “Changing the name of a hundred-year-old establishment was a mistake. So few guests came today.”

After all, the Shen family was not made of money, and with the inn now under Shen Lian’s name, many of the other Shen family managers, waiting to see whose hands the family fortune would ultimately fall into, would not easily take sides, nor would they actively send business his way. Though some gifts had been received, none were valuable—proof of where hearts lay.

At that moment, Shen Lian entered, glanced at the ledger, and smiled, “Uncle Wu, you’ve worked hard today.”

Manager Wu laughed, “Young Master Lian, with so few guests, even if I wanted to be busy, there’s nothing to do.”

“Is that so? Perhaps tomorrow my aunt’s elder brother, Xu Hong, will be staying for a while. Charge him a thousand taels of silver per day—then you’ll have an easy job and plenty of money, even if there aren’t many guests.”

PS: Thanks to September, Little Cat, zxh1973, and Longke for their rewards.