Qingxu Temple did not observe the Laba Festival — or at least, it did not drink Laba congee. He Bang was displeased, and from first thing in the morning clung to Rong Chen Zi, demanding to be taken down the mountain for a bowl. Rong Chen Zi was in the middle of studying the matter of the small serpents with Jiaye Dashi and the others, and at this point had been pestered past endurance. But she was also the delicate type — raise his voice even slightly and she would start to cry. Rong Chen Zi could only placate her: “Congee can be drunk at any time, can’t it? Go play with Qingyin and the others first, and another day I’ll take you down the mountain, all right?”
All the young Daoists hung their heads, each one praying he would not be picked to accompany this river clam. He Bang had the temperament of a child, and at once she was done caring about appearances — she wrapped her arms around Rong Chen Zi’s leg and was on the verge of tears. Rong Chen Zi hastily pulled her upright, just squaring his face to issue a firm reprimand, when a voice rang out breezily from behind: “Since Zhiguan has no time to spare, why not let me serve in his place? It has been some time since I’ve seen the sights of the common world — it would be a perfect opportunity to accompany Panpan on a stroll.”
Jiang Haoran stood with a pleasant smile, reaching his hand toward He Bang. He Bang retreated back into Rong Chen Zi’s arms, her face one of undisguised revulsion: “Who would go anywhere with you? Disgusting!”
She turned and clung to Rong Chen Zi again. Rong Chen Zi finally relented: “All right, all right. Go change your clothes first. I’ll take you down the mountain shortly.”
He Bang let out a whoop of delight, bouncing and skipping her way back to the bedroom to change. She put on the long white feathered robe again today, with the gold bells on her feet chiming with her every step. When she broke into a run, the robe billowed out around her like a little snowball rolling merrily away — lively and charming. The helplessness in Rong Chen Zi’s expression held a quiet warmth. He watched that retreating figure for a long moment before letting out a deep, quiet sigh.
He Bang had a dilemma. Rong Chen Zi found her clothes far too revealing — practically scandalous to his way of thinking. Ye Tian’s women’s clothing, on the other hand, He Bang found far too stiff and prim. And Rong Chen Zi refused to let her wear Daoist novice robes — He Bang, dressed as a young male novice, was slim and attractive, yet she walked with the constant urge to press herself against him. The image of a Daoist master walking arm in arm with a pretty young novice along the road… Rong Chen Zi shuddered at the thought of the stares they would attract.
They considered every option and found nothing suitable. He Bang’s lips were jutting out to the limit: “You just don’t want to take me out!”
Rong Chen Zi had met his match, and could only offer in a lowered voice: “How about this — you transform into a river clam, and I’ll carry you down the mountain.”
When the great river clam heard this — not a bad idea at all, and she wouldn’t even have to walk — she consented, and went happily with him down the mountain.
By the end of the Hour of Xu, Rong Chen Zi carried He Bang down the mountain. The Laba Festival was a day of real importance in Lingxia Town. But as Rong Chen Zi walked the long streets and alleyways, his expression grew heavier and heavier with each step. He Bang sensed something was off too. She poked her head out from Rong Chen Zi’s arms: “Zhiguan — no one’s selling Laba congee!”
The long street was deserted. Every house had shut its doors, not a flicker of light to be seen anywhere. The once-thriving Lingxia Town was suddenly desolate and bleak. A cold wind cut past. Rong Chen Zi wrapped He Bang in the silk cloth and slung her across his back. She kept squirming and protesting. Rong Chen Zi tapped her shell: “Be still.”
He made his way to a house and raised his hand to knock. The weather was the kind that froze water on the spot; the eaves were too low, and from them hung icicles as thick around as a grown man’s wrist. The old wooden door gave a creaking groan — and no one answered. Rong Chen Zi’s heart sank — all the members of the Daoist order were gathered at Changgang Mountain. Could something have happened in Lingxia Town? His mind flickered, and sudden dread gripped him. He remembered it in a flash: the mad-dog attacks at the Li Family Settlement, and the bodies that had disappeared so strangely. At the time, he had been detained by He Bang’s situation and had never thought of it again. If the mad dogs were truly connected to the serpents, then the Li Family Settlement too must now be facing catastrophe!
He pushed the door hard. Unexpectedly, it opened from the inside. An elderly woman, sixty or seventy years old, had opened it. She wore a padded jacket and a black cloth head wrap, and her mouth, with most of its teeth gone, let in the cold wind when she spoke: “Who’s there?”
Rong Chen Zi could not help but step back a pace, but seeing it was an elderly person, he composed himself with a more pleasant expression: “Elder, I’ve been traveling long and would like to ask for a bite to eat.”
The old woman stared at him for quite a while, then suddenly broke into a cackle: “What’s gotten into me, leaving a guest standing in the doorway — come in, come in.”
The room was cramped and narrow. The old woman lit an oil lamp. In its swaying light, one could make out mud walls and a tile roof. Rong Chen Zi sat at the table — and then his brow drew tight. Dust lay thick across the table, clearly untouched by cleaning for some time.
He frowned. It was only a moment before the old woman set a bowl of cold congee before him. Rong Chen Zi took one sniff — it had gone sour. He picked up his chopsticks and stirred the congee, and the moment his right hand formed the finger-seal, the woman lunged at him. Rong Chen Zi was not alarmed. His sword appeared in his right hand, and he ran her clean through. She was still writhing on the ground. Her mouth gaped open, and from within, a white-and-yellow-patterned three-eyed snake slowly crawled out. It had barely gotten its head out when Rong Chen Zi brought the sword down — the snakeskin was too tough, and only a shallow cut was drawn. The snake was vicious too. It opened its mouth and spat a stream of venom. Rong Chen Zi twisted aside to dodge, and the venom hit the old wooden table — the table was instantly eaten through with several holes.
With this one dodge, the snake pulled its whole body free of the human shell. It whipped its tail and came hurling at him, swift as a lightning bolt. Rong Chen Zi raised his sword to meet it — and then the three-eyed snake, already nearly upon his face, was suddenly torn to shreds in midair. As if shredded by a cyclone inch by inch, and in the end even the snake’s bones were snapped into pieces.
Rong Chen Zi was splattered from head to face in blood, and had no choice but to set He Bang down on the ground: “You knew all along that something had happened in Lingxia Town?”
He Bang’s voice came out muffled from inside the cloth bundle: “I was only wondering — the three-eyed snake had been so quiet for so long, could it be using a decoy up on Changgang Mountain to fool us? Mm… it does seem now that something has truly gone wrong in Lingxia Town.”
She took human form, clothing herself once more in water-spun robes. But Rong Chen Zi had no attention to spare for her “practically scandalous” attire. His eyes were shadowed: “This poor Daoist built this temple here, yet has let the common people suffer such calamity…”
He Bang rested her small hand on his shoulder, her soft form pressing gently against him: “In truth, the world has always been a matter of survival of the fittest — Zhiguan need not blame himself. What’s more, at a moment like this, we should be looking for which houses have not made Laba congee! Any house that’s not making Laba congee on the Laba Festival — that’s definitely a three-eyed snake!”
“…” Rong Chen Zi searched through all the rooms in the house with a thorough look, and sighed: “Such a method of identifying demons — it may well be the first of its kind in history.”
He led He Bang from door to door down the street. Along the way, only five households had made Laba congee; there was one family so poor they had used sour radish and a few threads of pork to substitute. Rong Chen Zi had arrived at his understanding — it seemed these three-eyed snakes truly did not know about festivals.
In some cases, a household had made Laba congee but the people’s behavior seemed evasive. The great river clam would gather the whole family together and question them one by one, the questions wildly eclectic: things like “What do you eat at the Dragon Boat Festival?” and “What do you eat at the Lantern Festival?”
Those who could not answer were killed with the wind-splitting technique. When their bodies were examined afterward, every single one was the corpse of a three-eyed snake.
Rong Chen Zi found the whole thing thoroughly absurd — but seeing it was genuinely effective, he made no attempt to stop it. The two of them made their way to the end of the street, and had likely killed no fewer than fifty three-eyed snakes. He Bang was growing tired. Rong Chen Zi leaned down and picked her up: “It seems we’ll need to gather the remaining townspeople and bring them to Qingxu Temple until the serpent trouble has passed.”
He Bang lay obediently in his arms. The gold bells on her feet chimed clear and steady, their sound particularly distinct in the night air: “Zhiguan, I’m so tired.”
Her voice had gone soft and boneless. Rong Chen Zi felt a pang of something tender: “Then wait here for me. There is no time to lose — I fear any further delay could be costly.”
He Bang wavered for several moments: “I want to stay with you.”
Rong Chen Zi, fearing the exertion would drain her vital energy, had no choice but to transform her back into a river clam once more and sling her across his back as a bundle.
He Bang woke from sleep to find herself back in Qingxu Temple. Rong Chen Zi had set her soaking in warm water, and instructed Qingzhen and Qingyin to keep adding hot water at intervals, while he went to settle the hundred-odd townspeople he had brought up the mountain. The three-eyed snake that had impersonated Liu Qinfang — in an attempt to curry favor with He Bang — had specifically gone down the mountain to pilfer several pounds of pork ribs. Qingyin, conspiring with it behind his master’s back, had secretly cooked up a pot of Laba congee. At this point, the two of them, plus one snake, were keeping watch over a large river clam. Qingzhen, meeting a “demon” fresh from legend for the first time, was full of wonder. He kept poking at He Bang’s shell with a finger, whispering: “Martial brother — do you really think this river clam can transform into Haihuang?”
Qingyin rolled his eyes: “Martial brother, there’s a three-eyed snake right here looking completely human. Don’t be so easily amazed…”
He Bang opened and closed her shell, releasing a string of bubbles. Qingyin hurried forward: “Little Daoist has made a pot of Laba congee — Your Majesty, please rise and drink it while it’s hot.”
He Bang made a sound of approval. The three-eyed snake had already squeezed its way in: “Hehe — Your Imperial Majesty Haihuang, the pork ribs were found specially by me, as an offering to you!”
He Bang was delighted: “Little San, you’re the one who behaves.” From her shell she produced a pearl-pink, brilliantly glowing bead. “This one’s for you!”
The three-eyed snake took one look and shuddered: “Another pearl? Your Majesty…”
He Bang was impatient: “What pearl — this is the inner core of a sea turtle demon. Extremely rare!”
The three-eyed snake was not entirely convinced, but He Bang had run out of patience: “Do you want it or not? If not, give it back!”
The three-eyed snake steeled itself. Its head darted forward, and it caught the bead in its mouth, gulping it down with a loud sound: “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
He Bang gave a satisfied snort. As a great demon of thousands of years, and having lived near the sea in recent years, she certainly was not lacking in treasures. Qingyin eyed it enviously: “Your Majesty, it was I who made the congee!!”
He Bang opened and closed her shell: “You’re good too, but you’re a Daoist — the magic items I have here all belong to demons, you can’t use them… ah, I have it!” She gave a roll and produced a small crystal-clear gourd. “This is a demon-collecting vessel — it can contain demons up to a few hundred years old. Take it.”
Qingyin put it away. Qingzhen also sidled over shamelessly: “Your Maj — oh no, Master’s wife! Master’s wife, you mustn’t play favorites! Your disciple here has been adding water for you…”
He Bang was a little puzzled: “What is a master’s wife?”
Qingzhen eagerly explained: “It means master’s spouse — as master is like a father, so master’s wife is like a mother!”
He Bang was beside herself with pleasure: “Very good indeed! Let’s see now — what shall I give you…” A clinking and jingling resounded from within her shell as she rummaged about for quite a while, and at last seemed to have found something. “Ah, here — this is a water-drawing jade. It can redirect water channels — won’t work on the Yellow River or the Yangtze, but wells and flowing streams, it can manage.”
When Rong Chen Zi returned, he found that his two disciples had already, in exchange for two small magical items, sold him completely out…
He was a grounded and earnest man by nature. Without delay, his voice turned stern: “You gave Qingyin a demon-collecting vessel — he will never put in the effort to learn demon-suppression on his own. You gave Qingzhen a water-drawing jade — he will never bother to study the patterns of water veins and terrain for himself. Once the habit of taking the easy path is formed, they will amount to nothing. Neither of you has a stable foundation, and yet you’ve already started dreaming of rising to the top in one leap!”
Qingzhen and Qingyin both hung their heads in silence, too frightened to raise them. The great river clam climbed from the basin into Rong Chen Zi’s arms and reached out a muscular foot to poke at him: “Zhiguan, are you angry?” Rong Chen Zi’s brow was sharp as a carved line. He Bang began to make an outright scene: “Damn it all — you call yourself a master and you’re this stingy, and you still have the nerve to be angry?! Keep it up and I’ll cry!”
Rong Chen Zi was, truth be told, a little afraid of her — but seeing Qingzhen and Qingyin with their heads bowed so low their faces were nearly touching the ground, he gave a cold snort: “What are you standing there for — get back to work!”
Qingzhen and Qingyin answered in unison, and made their escape with considerable haste. Only then did Rong Chen Zi take He Bang into his arms and dry her off with a cloth: “They’re at the age when they should be learning — one mustn’t spoil them.”
He Bang gave a quiet, muffled sound of acknowledgment. She shifted into her human form, the hem of her skirt covering only about a third of her thighs. Rong Chen Zi’s throat moved subtly, and he was inevitably drawn into a moment of tenderness with her.
But the very next day, the entirety of Qingxu Temple was struck by a piece of news as unexpected as a thunderbolt from a clear sky — an imperial edict had arrived from the court. It ordered Zhuang Shaoqin to seal off both the Li Family Settlement and Lingxia Town. Starting today, no one was to leave either place. To prevent the situation from spreading further, all residents within — whether human or serpent — were to be burned alive without exception.
The edict was delivered by a Battalion Commander, who brought with him more than eighteen thousand soldiers. These troops surrounded Lingxia Town and the Li Family Settlement. Skilled in the handling of strange and supernatural affairs, they moved with swift decisiveness. Following the established method for dealing with spirits and demons, they sourced animal blood to seal the perimeters of both villages, spread paulownia oil across the ground, and prepared to set a fire that would reduce Lingxia Town and the Li Family Settlement to ash in one stroke.
Inside Lingxia Town, pandemonium immediately broke out.