Chapter 39: The General’s Test

“As a humble commoner, devoid of cultivation, I lament my inability to personally eradicate the demonic entity, and thus, I had no choice but to implore your assistance.”

The Mountain God gazed deeply at him, his expression unwavering, the crimson aura behind him still refusing to recede.

“What if I were to tell you that I am an official from the previous dynasty? How would you then proceed?”

Yang Qi, adopting a solemn demeanor, dismounted his horse and offered another respectful bow to him.

“This humble commoner would still proceed with the invitation, without fail.”

The surrounding populace, having first witnessed the golden light rending the heavens, and then observing Yang Qi’s inexplicable soliloquy, were mostly struck with profound alarm.

Those of fainter heart, even as they cowered beneath the eaves, did not forget to kneel on dry ground, incessantly praying to gods and Buddhas.

Those more audacious, in their panic, clung to building pillars, straining to discern what lay in that direction, yet found not a single trace.

Song Daocong, treading lightly through the raindrops, arrived before Yang Qi, his long sword held casually.

“And what if I were to say that my name is Song Daocong? What then?”

‘Song Daocong?’

Yang Qi, rendered speechless, looked up to see the general’s face etched with a murderous aura; upon closer inspection, his armor was riddled with blade marks, its style distinctly belonging to the previous dynasty.

In an instant, a myriad of thoughts flashed through his mind.

Song Daocong, or perhaps Song Nie (TL Note: ‘Nie’ means evil or wicked, implying his reputation), was the most unyielding resistor of the previous dynasty, refusing to give up even after the Sacred Monarch’s forces had conquered the realm, stubbornly resisting for a full decade.

Ultimately, he fought a great battle against the Northern Wanderer Monarch in Nanyu, suffering a hasty defeat.

The intricate web of cause and effect surrounding these events was far too complex to be elucidated in a few simple words.

Yang Qi had never imagined that he would now stand face-to-face with such a legendary figure.

Taking a deep breath, he once more heard a distant, clear, and cool voice drift towards him.

“Sir Yang, can you recall your lifelong aspiration?”

The faint, calm voice reached him, easing many of the complex thoughts that had begun to stir within his heart.

‘What, then, was his lifelong aspiration?’

Drawing another deep breath, Yang Qi offered Song Daocong a solemn bow.

The rain, far from ceasing, continued to fall in heavy, continuous drops.

Apart from Jí Yào, who remained steadfastly by his side, most of the onlookers—including Song Ming—had sought refuge beneath the eaves, yet none dared to depart, instead watching Yang Qi, who was bowing and inviting the empty air, with bated breath and fixed gazes.

“This junior, still wishes to extend the invitation.”

“Still wish to invite? You, a civil official, are quite interesting indeed.”

The Mountain God, hearing Yang Qi’s change in address and his firm reply, felt a flicker of curiosity stir within his heart.

“Senior, are you willing to lend your assistance?”

Before Yang Qi could even register surprise, Song Daocong bared his teeth in a grin, revealing a flash of white, as a towering crimson aura surged skyward, instantly filling half the heavens.

At that moment, Qíngyǔ, who was standing nearby, holding Little Girl’s hand and watching the unfolding drama, suddenly felt a mysterious premonition, and following her intuition, she activated her ink-wash vision.

Gazing into the distance.

Within the monochrome canvas, a column of crimson-gold, born of the blood aura, shot skyward, instantly enveloping the small town in protection, perfectly repelling the encroaching evil energy.

Looking back at the rain.

The torrents of rain seemed to part for the two figures, revealing a brilliant azure aura around one and a fiery crimson around the other.

“No one can help you.”

Upon hearing Song Daocong’s words, Yang Qi’s heart sank, a faint numbness spreading through his limbs, yet within his spiritual platform, a sense of relief also settled.

‘Ultimately, must he still rely on himself?’

“In that case, please forgive this junior for his audacious invitation.”

“Heaven helps those who help themselves.”

Witnessing Yang Qi’s neither humble nor overbearing conduct, Song Daocong felt a renewed surge of satisfaction, and with a casual flick of his wrist, he rested his sword upon Yang Qi’s shoulder, preparing for the final test.

The raw, chilling sword energy, mingled with the oppressive blood aura, caused Yang Qi’s skin to prickle painfully and stole his breath.

“I shall ask you one final question.”

“Please, Senior.”

Yang Qi, at this moment, answered almost through gritted teeth; facing an aura like a sea of blood, he truly would not have been able to withstand it, had he not drawn strength from Qíngyǔ’s previous two sentences and his singular, fervent wish.

“If your life were to be sacrificed for the sake of all living beings, what would you do?”

Upon hearing these words, and seeing Qíngyǔ offer no response for a long while, countless images flashed through Yang Qi’s mind.

There were images of the nation, the imperial court, mountains and rivers, food and drink… but ultimately, his thoughts settled only upon his family in the Yang Manor.

“…If it would ensure the safety and well-being of my family, then there is no objection.”

“And if it cannot?”

“Then this junior will seek another path.”

“Good, good, good!”

Hearing his answer, Song Daocong exclaimed “good” three times in succession, abruptly sheathed his sword, and then burst into hearty laughter.

His exclamations and laughter were not concealed, and the surrounding onlookers heard them clearly, piercing their very hearts.

“W-w-what… who is laughing?”

“Not only laughing, I also heard someone cheering!”

The crowd once again fell into a flurry of panic.

Yang Qi, feeling the oppressive aura around him dissipate, nearly collapsed to the ground, but was fortunately supported by a gentle breeze.

He instinctively turned his head, only to see the green-robed Qíngyǔ gazing at him, nodding almost imperceptibly.

Little Girl, beside her, giggled and vigorously waved her hand.

‘This little child is truly adorable.’

Beholding that endearing smile, all the myriad complexities in Yang Qi’s heart dissolved; he exhaled them entirely in a single, refreshing breath, then, leaning on Jí Yào for support, he managed to stand.

“Hmm, you still need to train more.”

Song Daocong, seeing him struggle to stand, gave a slight nod.

“Senior’s admonition is well-taken…”

What more could Yang Qi say? He could only offer a wry smile and clasp his hands in greeting.

“Very well, my affairs can be discussed later.”

Song Daocong transformed into a streak of golden light, tearing through the covering draped over the divine statue, and instantly merged into it.

The statue had originally lacked painted eyes, but once the golden light dispersed, its stellar gaze now appeared truly brilliant and awe-inspiring, radiating authority without needing to express anger.

“I am Song Daocong, the Wu Zhang (TL Note: A historical military or administrative officer, typically a local chief or headman) of Zuoxian County. Today, I accept your three bows amidst the rain. Remember always your original aspiration, remember it, remember it!”

The majestic voice resounded throughout the surroundings, startling everyone into exclaiming that a celestial deity had manifested, yet they were held aloft by an inexplicable force, unable to kneel no matter how they tried.

“Kneel, kneel, kneel? Why kneel? When you worship at my temple, offering incense, clasping your hands, or making a bow will suffice.”

Song Daocong could not help but add this remark before fully integrating into the statue and falling silent—he required some time to adapt and integrate with this newly revived divine body.

The rain gradually lightened.

Seeing that the matter was settled, Qíngyǔ opened her oil-paper umbrella, subtly dispersed the puddles between the bluestones, and led Little Girl forward.

“Sir Yang, you are still needed to exert yourself and move this statue to the abandoned temple outside of town. Don’t collapse just yet.”

“How could I?”

Yang Qi, having recovered some of his strength, smiled, and with Jí Yào’s help, mounted his horse, then called out to Song Ming, who was sheltering from the rain nearby.

“Hurry and catch up! Haven’t you seen that I’ve already concluded the negotiations?”

Master Song (TL Note: ‘大人’ is an honorific for a respected official or elder, here referring to Song Ming) was still utterly bewildered, feeling that many significant events had transpired in an instant, yet he found it inappropriate to immediately ask for clarification.

“So, should I now tell them to transport… or rather, respectfully move this statue to the temple?”

“Quickly, quickly, quickly!”

Thus, Song Ming promptly beckoned to the soldiers nearby, and the procession reorganized itself in the rain.

Yet, at this moment, no one felt the chill of the cold rain; instead, they all felt an inexhaustible surge of strength throughout their bodies.

Even the horses pulling the carts shook their manes, and simply looking at them, one could tell their coats gleamed brightly.

And so, the procession, now escorting a true deity, gathered once more and slowly departed towards the outskirts of the town.

“Young lady, you are truly an extraordinary person.”

Yang Qi, feeling quite excited, dismounted after a short rest, and with Jí Yào’s support, walked over to Qíngyǔ to speak with her.

“Oh, not at all.”

Qíngyǔ shook her head; indeed, she had exerted considerable effort just now, but most of it had been merely going with the flow, so she felt there was nothing particularly praiseworthy about it.

“You are too humble again, young lady.”

Yang Qi felt a surge of emotion, yet he was at a loss for how to express it.

“I merely did what I could.”

“Mama is amazing!”

“Little Girl!”

“Hee hee!”

With a helpless sigh, Qíngyǔ reached out to tug at the disobedient child twice, her recently uttered modest remarks completely disrupted.

“My Yang Manor will still have a meal prepared tonight; I wonder, young lady, if you would join us?”

“That would be accepting Sir Yang’s kind invitation.”

“I, too, am merely doing my best.”

“Hehe.”

Little Girl was amused by this ‘old fellow,’ and vigorously tugged at her mother’s hand.

“Yes, yes, yes.”

Qíngyǔ found herself caught between laughter and tears; clearly, not all matters were resolved, yet they were already discussing how to celebrate.

Still, this was not bad.

Let her handle the worries; it was better for others to remain at ease.

Amidst her thoughts, Qíngyǔ still had one lingering question: was this demonic entity truly so composed and patient?