Chapter 28: Aiding the Tiger in Its Tyranny

Hearing Li Jingyi loudly refute him, the warmth in Chen Jiu’s gaze abruptly faded.

For a moment, Wu Song was at a loss. He looked to Chen Jiu. “How can you be so sure he’s some kind of specter? Could it be, like me, you’ve had a bit of wine and now your spirits are rising?”

Chen Jiu shook his head. “I have three reasons to suspect him.”

Wu Song responded with a simple, “Oh?” Yet quietly, he gripped the whistle staff beside him.

Li Jingyi’s expression softened; he turned to Chen Jiu and argued, “Go on then. If you’re making things up, slandering my reputation without cause, I ask this good man to bind the Daoist and bring him before the magistrate, so I might clear my name!”

Wu Song nodded. “That can be done.”

Chen Jiu smiled nonchalantly and raised one finger. “First, Brother Wu reeks of wine—how did you not notice?”

Li Jingyi scoffed. “So it’s just the smell of wine? I assumed you meant something else. Of course I can smell that. Are you really basing your accusation of me being a ghost just on this?”

Wu Song glanced at Li Jingyi, the flush on his cheeks slowly receding—likely the alcohol’s effects were fading.

“I too find your first point a bit presumptuous,” Wu Song said.

Both men challenged him, but Chen Jiu remained unhurried. He raised a second finger. “The second point is simple. You said you came up the mountain at noon, correct?”

Li Jingyi’s brow furrowed. “Yes, the sun was just climbing as I ascended.”

Chen Jiu chuckled lightly. “You claim you saw the official notice, then waited here, hoping to find companions. Is that right?”

Li Jingyi nodded. “Indeed. After seeing the notice, I waited here until you two arrived.”

Chen Jiu grinned. “That’s the crux of it.”

Li Jingyi was puzzled. “Daoist, don’t speak in riddles!”

At that moment, Wu Song suddenly grasped the meaning. He rolled his whistle staff in his hands and barked, “Impossible! The innkeeper clearly said a group already passed over the ridge at noon!”

Wu Song’s expression changed dramatically. “If you truly waited by the stone wall all this time, how could you have met us?”

Wu Song and Chen Jiu, after all, had come up the mountain in the afternoon...

Li Jingyi’s face twisted in shock. He stepped back. “Perhaps that group was devoured by the tiger along the way!”

Chen Jiu retorted, “You won’t admit the truth until you’re faced with it, will you?”

“Let me give you another reason.” He raised a third finger.

“From the stone wall to here, the mountain path stretches over ten miles. We spent about half an hour on the journey.”

Li Jingyi’s eyes narrowed coldly. “And? What baseless accusation are you about to make now?”

Chen Jiu smiled, hands clasped behind his back as he slowly stepped away from Wu Song. “So, you might calculate our speed—but remember, we’re on mountain paths.”

Li Jingyi’s brows knitted together, his gaze fixed intently on Chen Jiu.

Wu Song pondered for a moment, then anxiously urged, “Young man, so? What’s your conclusion?”

Chen Jiu chuckled, pointing at Wu Song. “Our speed depended on Brother Wu, who is strong and swift, moving through steep mountain terrain as if it were flat ground. That’s why it only took half an hour.”

Then Chen Jiu pointed to himself. “As for me, I’m half a cultivator, so the power within me allowed me to endure the pace without tiring.”

“But even though Brother Wu and I are not ordinary, when we arrived, we were both drenched in sweat and breathing hard... Yet, I observe Master Li—thin, lacking cultivation or power—arrived here with a calm, unruffled demeanor. How is that possible for an ordinary man?”

At last, Li Jingyi’s composure shattered.

“Tell me, could any normal person manage such a feat?”

Li Jingyi’s face flushed with humiliation at the words.

Wu Song sneered. “That’s right—no ordinary person could keep up with me.”

“But how can you be so sure he’s a ghost or demon?” Wu Song asked.

Chen Jiu grew serious. “I once heard someone say that not long ago, a scholar was mauled by a tiger on the Ridge of Jingyang, dying a terrible death.”

Li Jingyi’s expression went icy; he stared at Chen Jiu in silence, as if tacitly admitting his spectral nature.

“The tale goes that those killed by tigers, their grievances unresolved, become wild ghosts—‘Changs.’ They lure the living to feed to tigers, hence the saying ‘serving as a chang for the tiger.’” In Chen Jiu’s hands, hidden behind his back, the tip of a sword gleamed sharply.

Wu Song said, “So that’s how it is.”

Suddenly, Li Jingyi burst out into wild laughter.

“Hahaha! You think you’re clever for exposing me?”

Chen Jiu’s gaze sharpened instantly.

“Go!”

In a flash, he launched his attack; his flying sword shot forth, glowing with eerie light, straight for Li Jingyi’s face!

At the same time, Wu Song leapt, whistle staff raised high, bringing it down in a heavy blow toward Li Jingyi.

The sword and staff struck almost simultaneously.

Yet, Li Jingyi’s body flickered.

In a heartbeat, he vanished from his spot, reappearing mysteriously five yards away, as if he’d teleported.

Both fierce attacks missed their mark.

Now, a chilling wind swirled around Li Jingyi, and his once-youthful face twisted into hideous ugliness.

He spat with venom, “I studied hard, hoping to pass the imperial exam, earn a post to support my kind mother. But the tiger slaughtered me on Jingyang Ridge! I cannot accept it! Why should you people be free and privileged, while I am not?”

Chen Jiu frowned. What nonsense was this?

Who’s free and privileged? Look at my ragged state—do I seem a carefree Daoist to you?

Privileged? Please—I’m so poor, all I have left is this robe. How privileged can I possibly be?

Li Jingyi’s resentment from being mauled by the tiger was deeper than Chen Jiu had imagined.

Not giving him a chance to retaliate, Chen Jiu formed a sword seal with his fingers and pointed to the sword on the ground.

“Rise!”

With his spiritual power surging, the sword was summoned into the air.

He infused it with a bit of magic and pointed at Li Jingyi. “Strike!”

The sword, obeying the command, became a beam of light, sounded a clear note, and shot toward Li Jingyi.

Wu Song was moved by the sight.

Rarely had he witnessed cultivators battling with magic—now he could finally see it for himself.

The sword, though not overwhelming in force, whistled as it flew.

Li Jingyi sneered and pushed his hands out.

Suddenly, a fierce wind whipped up out of nowhere, blowing Chen Jiu’s sword wildly off course.

“I haven’t time to fight you. Enough time has been wasted already,” Li Jingyi said darkly.

Then Chen Jiu watched as his body became shrouded in a demonic wind and soon vanished...

Chen Jiu’s brow furrowed as he recalled his sword and warned, “Brother Wu, let’s hurry down the ridge!”

Wu Song glanced at the darkening sky; he didn’t hesitate. Who knew what Li Jingyi might do next?

But as the two hurried away under the moonlight, not yet ten yards distant, a fierce wind suddenly swept through. The surrounding woods swayed violently.

The wind lasted only a moment, then silence returned.

As they prepared to move on, a series of loud, resounding tiger roars echoed from the mountains.

“Awoo!”

“Awoo!”

The terrifying cries thundered and reverberated across the ridge.

Chen Jiu and Wu Song exchanged glances, faces pale.

The mountain wind rose again—this time even more savage. The trees creaked and snapped, as if being torn apart.

Clouds follow dragons; wind follows tigers.

With the wind’s howl, the great tiger was about to emerge...