Chapter 10: Profound Understanding
As Zhou Yan’s consciousness settled, Zhao the Butcher’s portrait on the jade book suddenly blurred, like water splashed on a freshly painted ink wash, causing the ink to spread out.
The spreading ink stains flowed into Zhou Yan’s deeper consciousness.
They transformed into individual words, forming a story.
… … … …
Zhao Man was a butcher.
Since ancient times, butchers in villages and towns generally did well, and Zhao Man was no exception; he owned several courtyards, his granary was full of grain, and he conducted his business with fairness and integrity, welcoming and seeing off customers.
The local ruffians and scoundrels who latched onto him called him ‘Zhao Zhenguan’.
Zhao Man repeatedly waved his hands, hastily refusing, still just smiling and doing business; he had lost his father early, and his mother had taught him to be this way.
His mother had also given him the abacus she used when she was young, reminding him to be fair and clear in his actions. He remembered this clearly, tying the abacus to his waist.
Later, the Saint Emperor wanted to conquer Goguryeo, suffering several defeats. The Saint Emperor also wanted to build a canal, and after several rounds of taxes, the homes of the town’s common people were like sieves, with little left.
Zhao Man took out his own grain to save lives and offered several of his rooms to those unfortunate people whose homes had been smashed by the soldiers.
Everyone was very grateful to him and started calling him Zhao Zhenguan.
But his family’s grain eventually ran out. Slowly, Zhao Zhenguan’s family grain was gone, and he became Zhao Manzi again, but at least everyone was still on good terms.
After several more times, when disaster struck again, several villagers, unafraid, went to Zhao Manzi’s house to eat and drink. Zhao Man had saved his mother’s rations and helped these poor people as much as possible.
But there wasn't enough food, so everyone had to starve together.
One day, Zhao Manzi went out, wanting to cut wood to make a new chair for his mother. The poor people, having run out of food, thought that Zhao Manzi must have given the grain to his mother, so they went searching. They didn't find any, but they were too hungry.
They were both hungry and unhappy.
Because Zhao Manzi hadn't satisfied them this time.
They saw the old mother who had raised Zhao Manzi, sitting on a chair.
Suddenly, someone quietly said, “Isn’t there still a meaty sheep at Zhao the Butcher’s house?”
… … … … … …
When Zhao the Butcher returned, he saw the villagers enthusiastically cooking meat. He didn't know why, but his eyes were a little red, perhaps from the heat, Zhao Man thought. He had been busy all day, only thinking about making his mother comfortable when she sat today.
A villager insisted he eat a piece of meat.
Unable to refuse, he took a big bite, swallowing it while thinking how long it had been since he had eaten meat, how delicious it was. The taste of this piece of meat would be unforgettable in the days to come. As he ate, he walked in to call his mother.
But where was his mother?
Only a pile of white bones remained, gnawed by wild dogs. The chair in Zhao Manzi’s hand fell to the ground; it was so sturdily made that it landed firmly. Behind him, the fire burned fiercely.
People were still cooking and eating meat.
Their eyes red, bellies bloated, they laughed and asked him:
“Slurp, slurp, slurp.”
“Zhao Manzi, isn’t this meat delicious?”
… … … … … …
Zhou Yan reached out and pressed his brow, sensing those words… or rather, the most deeply imprinted and unforgettable things in Zhao the Butcher’s Divine Soul. He also realized something: Zhao the Butcher, in his lifetime, or before he became a demon, was a good person.
A good person trying to save others led to a terrible outcome.
His last remaining family member was eaten by the very people he had saved.
After that, there was a period of murky memory. The butcher picked up two pig-slaughtering knives and butchered everyone in the entire town, young and old, standing in a pool of blood, wailing loudly.
At that moment, he truly became Zhao Zhenguan.
But he was also close to death. When those people resisted him, he suffered very severe injuries. Grasping the abacus his mother had given him, his hands’ blood stained the abacus’s string red. He crawled to the pile of his mother’s white bones, still calling for her.
He heard footsteps approaching from behind, and then a soft voice asked him: 【“What a demon you are. How about making a deal with me?”】
The remaining textual memories in his Divine Soul dispersed, recombined, and formed mysterious patterns. Zhou Yan guessed that Zhao the Butcher must have met Qing Ming Fangzhu afterward and eventually became Qing Ming Fangzhu’s subordinate.
Selling human flesh and slaughtering the innocent for it was understandable in his circumstances, but his crimes were truly unforgivable.
Zhou Yan also sensed the power of this jade book—by slaying named demons burdened with Karma, he could annihilate their Divine Souls and transform them into Divine Abilities, suppressing them within this jade book for his use.
Zhao Man, a high-ranking Hungry Ghost among the Hungry Ghosts, was not simply a demon fallen due to his own desires; his power was not something a small demon could compare to.
Zhou Yan tried to sense it for a while.
He somewhat understood the various powers of this Great Power Ghost.
Without needing magic power, he could directly see all food and items containing Origin Qi with his naked eyes.
He possessed the innate Spell of devouring various foods; to put it bluntly, even eating Guanyin soil would act like a digestive aid.
As Hungry Ghosts, they could swallow all sorts of things, and after converting them into Origin Qi, it would flow out of their seven orifices, making them even hungrier. Thus, they constantly ate, never satisfied.
But Zhou Yan was human, so he wouldn’t let this Origin Qi flow out.
There was also a Spell Divine Ability.
“Karmic Fire Starving Flames.”
“Casting magic power can make the opponent feel intense physiological hunger.”
Zhou Yan opened his eyes. This jade Talisman seemed to contain other Divine Abilities, but Zhou Yan himself seemed to lack some essential element, so he could only use this type of Spell. The missing element was probably what was called magic power, or Dao cultivation.
Zhou Yan clenched his hand, muttering in his heart:
“No mana bar?”
When surfing the internet before, netizens always said not to randomly form Daoist seals.
They said something like, if you have mana, it consumes mana; if you don’t, it consumes blood.
If you have magic power, it consumes magic power; if you don’t, it consumes life.
This was probably the situation now.
Zhou Yan lowered his hand, curious. The jade book displayed the Hungry Ghost page, with Zhao Man’s portrait blurry and distorted. Between Zhou Yan’s two fingers appeared a jade Talisman, on which nothing could be clearly seen.
Zhou Yan had a feeling that only he could see this jade Talisman.
With little effort, the jade Talisman dispersed and merged into Zhou Yan’s body. Zhou Yan felt his strength and stamina seemed to increase slightly, and his sense of smell sharpened, but there was no Demonic Qi on him.
“It doesn’t seem that great. Is it because I don’t have magic power and Dao cultivation… Hiss!!!”
And the next moment, an intense feeling of hunger surged up.
Zhou Yan almost pounced directly.
“Damn… I’m so hungry…”
Zhou Yan’s face was a little pale. He hadn’t eaten anything all day yesterday and had almost been given a laxative by the demon. The power of the Hungry Ghost Jade Talisman, once applied to him, almost made him devour himself. His gaze swept over the black horse, which, sensing it, nervously shifted its hooves.
“No, no, I need to find something to eat.”
Zhou Yan clutched his stomach, his gaze sweeping around. Before, he had only seen it as a wilderness, but now, in his eyes, it was practically a buffet. Everything glowed faintly, indicating edible Origin Qi.
I'm going to eat, eat, eat, eat, eat!
… … … … … …
Shen Cangming was in a deep sleep.
In his dream, he seemed to return to Xingxiu River, once again with the general and his comrades, seeing the Tang battle flags. They fought countless battles, defeating repeated invasions by the Tubo army amidst the clang of swords.
After the battle, sitting on the city walls built of yellow earth, the general took off his helmet, sat cross-legged, and played the huqin. His fingers moved like flying birds, but he sang a powerful Tang melody.
Shen Cangming lay stretched out, listening to the songs of his comrades and the cries of pain from a few brothers. The joy of another victory and the feeling of being alive finally transformed into his laughter.
“We have once again defended the borders of the Great Tang.”
The scenes in the dream intertwined, leading to a grand hall. The person in front was tall, his face unclear, but Shen Cangming saw him pointing at himself and the general, shouting angrily: “You are merely of common birth; reaching the sixth rank is already a promotion. Mere Border Army brutes…”
“Military achievements?”
“Without our strategic planning, how could you have achieved military merits on the front lines? By risking your lives?”
“And you still want to contend with the Five Great Clans and Seven Eminent Families?!”
The lanterns around were too bright, the cloud patterns on that person were too deep, the hall too profound. Shen Cangming couldn't see the person’s face, only felt him growing taller and taller, while the general, who was invincible on the battlefield, grew increasingly silent.
The general, frustrated and disheartened, died of illness; another great general also died suddenly.
The treatment of the Border Army grew worse and worse.
He wanted to seek justice.
Chang'an was too far from the border, and news couldn't reach them.
The Jiedushi, personally appointed by Your Majesty, said that treacherous officials in the court were oppressing the Border Army comrades.
Carrying the heart to save the Great Tang, they arrived in Chang'an. Shen Cangming personally charged forward until a general, bare-chested and wielding a Modao (Trench Cutter), blocked him in front of Chang'an, calling them 'rebels'. This finally revealed the hidden truth in his heart, revealing that indignant unwillingness. In a trance, he lost his composure.
He was struck directly in the chest by that general’s Modao.
Although he didn't die, he had lost his Battle Intent. He lived, but was in a daze, unable to control himself. In this dream, he thought again of that great drunken celebration after he and the general had won all those years ago.
At that time, he lay there, looking at the Great Tang Dragon flag, which always stood firm on the earth.
The general said.
“Good job, lad.”
“We’ve defended this Dragon flag again, defended the Central Plains…”
But for some reason, his heart ached terribly.
Great Tang, oh Great Tang…
Tears flowed from Shen Cangming’s right eye, and he woke from his dream.
His resolve to die was firm; he thought he could not live on in this world. After sending the child to a safe place, he would return to the Demon Market and fight Qing Ming Fangzhu. Even if it meant sacrificing his life, he could not lose the valiant spirit of the Central Plains in such a way.
Because of the tears, his vision was inevitably blurry. The dark blue sky, the gloomy forest and world. He saw the young man fiddling with something in front of the campfire, then turning sideways. The young man’s expression was gentle and warm.
Then he smiled and reached out his hand.
“Uncle Shen, you’re awake?”
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