Chapter 32: The County Magistrate and the Demonic Entity

Clad in his official robes, he first bowed to Master Yang before finally raising his head.

Master Yang spoke coldly, “There is no longer any connection between us. Do not jeopardize your future.”

With those chilling words, Master Yang stepped out of the carriage.

The horse shied slightly, but Jí Yào immediately reined it in.

Two constables, their faces stiff, reluctantly approached to help Jí Yào with the horse.

“Sir, please let the carriage rest over here for a moment.”

Qíngyǔ disembarked first, then carefully helped the Little Girl down from the carriage.

Only when she turned to face the magistrate and observed him closely did a flicker of surprise cross her features.

From a distance, she hadn’t been able to discern much, but up close, she sensed something unusual.

“Is His Excellency a military official by origin?”

The county magistrate wore the robes of a civil official, yet his slender frame was topped by a dark, weathered face.

His hands were thick and chapped, bearing faint traces of calluses.

Viewing them through her ink-wash vision, Qíngyǔ noticed a vibrant red hue emanating from the two constables, a color conspicuously absent from this Sir Song, which she found rather peculiar.

Seeing Qíngyǔ and the Little Girl clad in Daoist robes and accompanying Master Yang, he immediately bowed towards them again.

“My name is Song Ming. I presume, young lady, you are the one who subdued the demonic entity?”

Qíngyǔ returned his bow. “It was merely a small deed, and the root of the evil remains. I never expected to gain such an undeserved reputation.”

Master Yang interjected coldly from the side, “This ‘Sir’ is indeed of military origin, Cangxuan, so there’s no need to be overly reserved.”

He heavily emphasized the word ‘Sir,’ leaving Sir Song no choice but to respond with a wry smile.

“Master Yang…”

“What ‘Sir’?”

“Sir Yang is right. Please, both of you, follow me into the inner courtyard to discuss further.”

Though Master Yang merely huffed through his nose at being called ‘Sir,’ he finally stepped forward to follow after Song Ming respectfully extended an inviting hand.

It was evident at a glance that these two had some past grievance, and Master Yang was likely the one with higher standing.

Wordlessly, Qíngyǔ took the Little Girl’s hand and followed the two men.

She had wondered why Master Yang, given his temperament, would agree to visit the county magistrate so readily that day.

Moreover, despite his tarnished reputation, even the constables along the way dared not trouble the disgraced official; at most, they kept their distance.

She could surmise some of the reasons, but it would certainly be more intriguing to hear the full account from the parties involved themselves.

Upon reaching the inner courtyard, the supposed residence of Sir Song proved even more spartan.

Aside from the painted floral walls of the small courtyard hinting at official status, the rest of the furnishings were indistinguishable from those in an ordinary commoner’s home.

“The conditions are humble; I ask for your understanding,” he said.

He then ducked into an inner room, returning with two straw stools and inviting them to sit.

“Why have you sought us out?”

Master Yang, seemingly accustomed to such simplicity, glanced around, found a stove with a kettle, and proceeded to brew some tea before finally posing his question.

“Naturally, it concerns the demonic entity.”

Song Ming sighed, kicked a straw stool closer, and sat down, his brow deeply furrowed.

“What difficulty could there be? Just handle it as usual.”

Master Yang picked up a pair of tongs and, disregarding the summer heat, rummaged through the stove’s ashes.

His eyes suddenly lit up as he pulled out several dark, oblong objects, which tumbled onto a nearby table.

“How can it be handled as usual?” Song Ming responded with another wry smile, glancing at Qíngyǔ and the Little Girl, then back at Master Yang.

“Since no one present is unaware of the matter, I shall speak freely.”

The ‘matter’ he referred to was, of course, the demonic entity.

Qíngyǔ had long been curious about the relationship between the imperial court and the immortal Dao—or rather, the cultivation world—so she listened attentively.

“When Sir Yang was still in office, demonic incidents were almost unheard of, were they not?”

“Hmm… I barely heard of any in those later years,” Master Yang said, blowing on one of the dark spheres.

He glanced at the curious Little Girl, then, once they had cooled, handed two to Qíngyǔ. “Potatoes. Roasted, they’re wonderfully fragrant. I won’t help you peel them.”

Qíngyǔ, in truth, preferred eating such roasted potatoes with some sauce, but such luxuries were unavailable in this era.

“Mama, what’s this?” the Little Girl tugged at her mother’s Daoist robe, trying to keep her voice down, yet her volume remained unchanged.

“Roasted potato, but it’s hot. I’ll peel it for you later.”

Seeing the girl’s adorable antics, Qíngyǔ couldn’t resist playfully smearing some of the black ash from her hands onto the Little Girl’s face.

The Little Girl remained blank-faced for a moment, then unceremoniously wiped her mouth, her eyes fixed intently on the potatoes in her mother’s hand.

Her image as a cool, adorable little Daoist priestess utterly shattered, Qíngyǔ could only sigh in resignation and help her peel the potatoes, her carefully curated appearance ruined.

Only after everyone had finished eating did Song Ming resume speaking. “This is the first incident of demonic mischief within ten years.”

“It should be the second,” Master Yang corrected after finishing his potato, clapping his hands to dust off the ash.

“The last one was also resolved by the young lady, but as it involved me, and fearing accusations of seeking pity from certain court officials, it was not reported.”

Song Ming was startled, but then took a long breath to compose himself. “In that case, we can no longer ignore it.”

“How do you plan to handle it?”

“Report it.”

“And wait for His Majesty to move Heaven and Earth with his prayers?”

“There’s no other good way…”

“Why can’t we learn from the previous dynasty and cultivate our own demon-slayers?”

Song Ming was alarmed once more by his words.

He quickly reached out to stop him, then glanced around, only sighing in relief when he saw no eavesdroppers.

“Master Ya… Sir, please watch your words.”

“What is there to fear about displeasing Heaven?”

“Matters of gods and ghosts are best left unspoken.”

Master Yang cast a glance at the county magistrate before him.

Though he wanted to say more, seeing the man’s genuine wry smile, he could only relent.

“Then report it.”

“It can only be so.”

Qíngyǔ listened silently to their conversation, her mind drifting to the ‘Heavenly War’ and the matter of the obscured moon.

‘Severing the connection between Heaven and Earth’ was indeed not as simple as Zì Bùxiàn had made it sound.

“Master Yang, do you truly intend to remain in the Northern Ridge for the rest of your life?”

As the conversation reached this point, and the stove fire began to die out, Song Ming finally could not restrain himself, bowing respectfully to Master Yang.

“You’ve been here for almost a year. Haven’t you heard what people outside call me?”

“Well…”

“‘Traitor Yang, Rat Yang, Sword Yang…'” Master Yang pointed outside, his tone flat, spitting out each deeply insulting term through gritted teeth. “‘Even if I were to return to court, if someone with ill intentions reported these matters, I would not be so unburdened.'”

“Those are just idle rumors from the marketplace. I have never believed them.”

Song Ming’s face showed genuine bitterness and indignation, and it was the first time Qíngyǔ had witnessed such complex emotions in this life.

“Does your disbelief suffice?”

“Even His Majesty would not believe…”

“Does His Majesty’s disbelief suffice?”

“Master Yang… please, watch your words…”

Qíngyǔ listened silently from the side.

She had always found these rumors incredibly suspicious, and now, seeing the city enveloped in a net of vibrant red, her heart swelled with even more questions.

“I believe these rumors may not necessarily originate from the common folk…”

The young lady pondered for a moment before slowly beginning to speak.

However, before she could finish, the resounding beat of a drum and a chorus of wails echoed from outside.

“Sir Song! Sir Song! You must deliver justice for my Qin family!!!”

The drum of injustice thundered, and the cries were utterly heart-wrenching.

Master Yang and Song Ming had intended to hear what Qíngyǔ had to say, but at this moment, they could only give up.

“Then I shall go out and see what grievance this is.”

“We’ll go together,” Master Yang scoffed upon hearing the words ‘Qin family.’ “They’re probably here to cause trouble for me.”

“I’m afraid that’s not…”

“If I don’t go out with you now, someone will report you for favoritism later. Do you believe that or not?”

Seeing that Song Ming still wanted to object, Qíngyǔ rose and bowed. “Let us all go together. This Qin family is also deeply connected to me, and I must ask His Excellency to investigate thoroughly.”

“You, a military official by origin, are acting so indecisive and fussy. What kind of talk is that?”

Seeing Song Ming still hesitant, Master Yang couldn’t help but smack him on the back of the head, then rose and strode out.

“Let’s go! Let this old teacher give you another lesson!”