Chapter 34: The Demon’s Web

Reflecting now, it seems he was clinging to that evil force, barely surviving.

“Should I… dispatch someone to bring him in now?”

Song Ming, at a complete loss, could only grimace and look to those around him for help.

Unluckily for this official, joy and sorrow had flipped within a single day. He had hoped to make amends with his teacher, but now found himself stumped by this demonic affair.

“It might be unwise to act now.”

Qíngyǔ shook her head and recounted the situation in the city to the two men beside her.

With each detail revealed, their expressions grew increasingly grim.

As the girl finished speaking, Yang Qi had already risen from his seat, fixated on the words he had just heard. He had listened intently and now believed most of what he had been told.

“This evil force, like a web of blood, is spreading through Metu County?”

Song Ming patted himself down, searching for any abnormalities, but pressed on with his questions: “Miss Qin, you can’t make such reckless claims. The lives of an entire city depend on your words!”

If what she said was true, he would have to report it and face the possibility of burning the city and burying its people.

“I have changed my surname to Qing,” Qíngyǔ rose with composure, took the teapot steaming on the charcoal fire, and mixed it with tepid water from a cup on the table. She offered it to the two men, saying, “The truth will be revealed in the tea.”

Yang Qi hesitated only briefly before drinking the mixture. His vision distorted, and in the distance, he saw the city shrouded in a crimson web reaching into the sky. The web was adorned with sinister grins, reminiscent of wolves or spiders guarding their prey.

Song Ming watched as Yang Qi stood transfixed. Though he had doubts, he reached for the tea and drank. Upon seeing the blood web, his reaction was even more intense than his teacher’s. He dropped the teacup, shattering it into pieces.

“This… this… what is this?”

Song Ming pounded his chest, gasping for breath as he sat down. He was too distraught to care about the broken teacup.

“It’s a demonic entity.”

Qíngyǔ, satisfied with her successful deception, nodded inwardly.

She couldn’t share her unique vision, and the tea was just tea. She had prepared an explanation about “mixing hot and cold to reveal the demonic force,” but it seemed unnecessary now.

“Mom, is there danger?”

Seeing their reactions, the little girl grew anxious, tugging at her mother’s sleeve. “Is there danger?”

There was, but Qíngyǔ couldn’t reveal it.

From these tests, it seemed the demon, like Zì Bùxiàn, couldn’t fully grasp her capabilities.

To be safe, she needed to maintain her air of mystery.

But it was disappointing. If her cultivation were higher, she would have stormed the place already, instead of discussing strategies here.

“There’s no danger.”

Qíngyǔ patted the girl’s head and took her small hand.

“If there is danger, I’ll tell you.”

Yang Qi, regaining his composure, breathed a sigh of relief. He thought he hadn’t been too shaken, only slightly surprised.

“Miss Qing, do you have a method to deal with this demonic force?”

“I do, but I need to ask Song an important question first.”

Song Ming, eager to help, replied without hesitation: “Ask away! I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

Qíngyǔ paused, waiting until a hint of crimson appeared in her vision. Only then did she ask: “Did you go anywhere unusual a few days ago?”

“No, I’ve been handling affairs in the county. I haven’t been anywhere out of the ordinary.”

“It involves the town and the temple.”

“Temple…” Song Ming hesitated, then remembered. “Are you referring to the abandoned temple?”

“In the entire city, only you are free of the demonic force. I can only assume you are under divine protection.”

Qíngyǔ nodded, as if sensing the hidden evil. She summoned a surge of spiritual energy, striking a small rat that scurried out, startling the little girl.

“A rat!”

“Are you scared?”

“Not really… just feels dirty.”

“That’s good.”

Qíngyǔ hadn’t harmed the creature but had severed its connection to the demon.

The others didn’t mind the rat; in this era, such sights were common.

“But I did seal the temple,” Song Ming said, confused. “Even if there were gods, they wouldn’t protect me.”

“Divine grace is beyond human comprehension.”

Qíngyǔ, enjoying the moment, continued her tale. She could have explained that she had cast an illusion spell and simultaneously removed the demon’s watchful eye.

But a clear explanation would have diminished her authority in vanquishing the demon.

In her past life, her teacher had warned her against revealing too much of her power, lest she become entangled in karmic debts or attract dark intentions.

After several missteps, she had taken this advice to heart.

“Should I adjust my schedule for tomorrow to repair the temple?”

“Mr. Yin has invited me to write a plaque for the temple tomorrow. If you wish, we can go together.”

Song Ming felt a glimmer of hope at the mention of divine assistance.

“But the temple has no idol, so…”

Qíngyǔ knew this, but she asked anyway.

“What happened to the original idol?”

“A wandering Daoist came through a few days ago, spreading rumors about the temple worshipping evil gods. It caused quite a stir.”

Song Ming sighed.

“I don’t pay much attention to these matters, so I dispersed the temple’s servants and destroyed the idols.”

Qíngyǔ bit her lip, impressed by Song Ming’s boldness in these trying times.

“But you know about the demonic forces? Why did you dismiss the gods?”

“Not all are the same. Demons are demons, and the divine is divine.”

He glanced at Yang Qi, who had been silent, fidgeting with his teacup.

“I and Mr. Yang have always supported the restoration of the previous dynasty’s demon-hunting bureau.”

“These two goals do not conflict. The gods surely approve of your self-reliance.”

Qíngyǔ nodded, understanding their desire to combat demons with human strength.

“If there’s time, Mr. Song, please have the artisans carve a new idol tonight and transport it to the ‘abandoned temple’ tomorrow. The demonic troubles will be resolved easily.”

She dipped her fingers in the teacup and, with a flourish, sketched a figure on the stone table.

As the water evaporated, a figure emerged.

The two men leaned in, feeling the image was familiar yet elusive.

“This…”

Qíngyǔ finished her drawing, satisfied. “No need to doubt. Carve it as is, and the result will be clear.”

Only the little girl noticed that the figure her mother had drawn was not of the original temple god—it was the half-destroyed idol from the mountain temple.