Zhang Enpu was truly in tears this time; what in the world was all this?! Seeing the small drought demon bite down with such addiction, the great drought demon also exerted all its strength, opened its mouth, and lunged for Zhang Enpu's neck, determined to drain him of his blood. Having stayed in the coffin all day without brushing its teeth or rinsing its mouth, the stench emanating from the demon's maw was something no ordinary person could bear—worse than a mouthful of garlic, it nearly made Zhang Enpu faint from the fumes. Nevertheless, he stubbornly endured it, planting one foot firmly on the demon's chest, using that leverage to tumble into a nearby pile of jagged rocks.
With a heave from both hands, Zhang Enpu staggered to his feet from the muddy ground. His brand-new Eight Trigrams Daoist robe was now indistinguishable from a field soldier's camouflage uniform, covered all over with countless rips and mud stains. As he stood, his gaze was hazy, his focus failing to land on his opponent, the drought demon; it seemed his face-plant into the dirt had been quite severe.
The drought demon possessed no pity, nor did it adhere to the venerable tradition of respecting elders and cherishing the young. Though it was an evolved form of a Jiangshi, possessing a sliver of intellect, what remained dominant was an innate savagery, the bloodthirsty instinct of a wild beast. At this moment, in its pair of fiery red pupils, Zhang Enpu was prey, and one need not be polite to one's quarry. After three sharp thuds, the drought demon leaped to a spot two meters in front of Zhang Enpu and lunged like a tornado.
Seeing the demon's claws about to strike his face, Zhang Enpu instinctively shifted his posture, dropping low, executing a supporting arm block—his right hand hooking under the demon's elbow while his left gripped its wrist tightly. He swayed his body to the side, following through with a throw. The drought demon's body was lifted into the air. The entire sequence was executed flawlessly, swift and smooth.
Zhang Enpu frowned momentarily, then smoothed his expression. A cluster of snow-white goatee whiskers fluttered in the absence of wind. Recalling the casual maneuver he’d just executed, he recognized it as a posture from Tai Chi Chuan. He lived by this profession; after years of encountering strange and bizarre events, how could he manage with mere talismans and spells without practicing some martial skill? Take the drought demon he faced today, for instance—this was pure physical labor! They said Tai Chi conquers rigidity with softness, and that was how he trained, yet Zhang Enpu never imagined he would one day apply this art to a drought demon. Ah well! Never mind the method, a cat that catches mice is a good cat, black or white. Since there was a way, he might as well try it! With that thought, Zhang Enpu tugged at his sleeves, and his previously dimmed face regained a trace of confidence.
However, the drought demon reacted swiftly, and its resistance to impact was astonishing. Before landing, it stiffened its knees and stabilized itself, avoiding a direct fall. This caused the slight smile that had just appeared on Zhang Enpu’s face to vanish instantly.
Stung by the maneuver, the drought demon remained expressionless. After steadying itself, it raised both claws again and hammered toward Zhang Enpu’s face, this time with fiercer speed than before. But Zhang Enpu remained unhurried. He employed the Tai Chi technique known as 'Single Whip,' parrying the descending claws, guiding the momentum, and simultaneously sweeping his foot in a hooking motion toward the demon's ankle. This time, the drought demon finally lost all control of its balance and crashed heavily to the ground.
It sprang up from the mud as if nothing had happened. But this time, before it could attack, Zhang Enpu preemptively struck. He seized the demon’s wrist and yanked it back sharply. The just-risen demon, unsteady on its feet, was pulled forward, staggering a step, its upper body folding forward. At this moment, Zhang Enpu abruptly changed from retreat to advance, stepping forward with his rear foot while twisting his body to slam his shoulder heavily into the demon’s bowed chest, knocking the drought demon reeling back several steps with dull thuds.
No matter how powerful the counter-force in Tai Chi, there was a limit; one could not amplify strength infinitely. Zhang Enpu knew that if the demon’s fierce strike connected with his head, he would likely be instantly knocked unconscious. Instantly, he raised both hands to ward off the demon’s claws, using the principle of "using four ounces to deflect a thousand pounds" to nudge them aside. The demon's arms swung uncontrollably in a circle with its body, missing their target.
Just as Zhang Enpu was about to press his advantage with another heavy blow, the drought demon suddenly widened its maw, expanding instantly beyond human limits. In the blink of an eye, it transformed into a cavernous, gaping mouth, its teeth, sharp as saw blades, snapping shut with a kacha kacha toward his throat.
Seeing this seemingly unkillable thing attacking again, Zhang Enpu, who was charging forward, gave a wry smile; retreat or evasion was now impossible. Fortunately, he remained calm in the face of danger. His body suddenly executed an 'Iron Bridge' maneuver, arching backward nearly ninety degrees, allowing the drought demon’s teeth to narrowly scrape past his chin.
Frustrated after several failed attempts to strike its prey, the enraged drought demon became even more terrifying. Its steel-whip-like arms thrust repeatedly toward Zhang Enpu's neck. Facing this assault, even Zhang Enpu’s Tai Chi of "borrowing force to strike force, four ounces deflecting a thousand pounds" was proving inadequate. Deciding to shift from defense to offense, Zhang Enpu executed a 'Cannon Fist' followed by a 'Single Grasp,' focusing all his power into one point. He leaped up, striking the demon's shoulder mid-air.
The drought demon made no attempt to evade and took the two blows directly. Before Zhang Enpu could retract his hands, it stretched both arms out again, thrusting them straight toward Zhang Enpu's neck. Zhang Enpu tilted his head slightly to evade, but this time the demon abandoned a linear attack. After the first miss, its arm suddenly warped, rotating ninety degrees clockwise, slicing toward Zhang Enpu's skull like a chainsaw. The blade-like nail swept across Zhang Enpu’s cheek, instantly tearing a large gash, from which blood streamed profusely.
Having struck Zhang Enpu, the drought demon did not pause its attack. Its feet bounded forward twice, as if planted on springs, and its hammer-sized fists slammed into Zhang Enpu’s abdomen again. Zhang Enpu felt his internal organs churn as if struck by lightning, almost causing him to vomit. Immediately afterward, he felt a pressure on both shoulders and blinked his hazy eyes open only to find the drought demon glaring at him, its red gums revealing white and red fangs in a sinister grin. Its ten dark, scaly nails were hooked into his collarbones, though for what purpose, he couldn't tell. Zhang Enpu instinctively dropped low and swayed, attempting to break free. But then came a shredding sound—both sleeves of his Daoist robe were torn off in a flash. Had he not moved, those two arms might have been torn off instead. Zhang Enpu’s heart hammered, silently congratulating himself on his narrow escape. But the reprieve was short-lived; having discarded the sleeves, the demon immediately seized him again, its ten fingers digging fiercely into his chest before it roared and hoisted him up. The demon’s strength was far beyond human capacity, likely exceeding several hundred pounds. Zhang Enpu’s entire body was tossed into the air and hurled a great distance, slamming him against the edge of the graveyard for the second time. This fall was far worse than the first; as he landed, his spine struck a rock squarely, and he knew several of his old bones must have broken.
"Ah!" Zhang Enpu cried out, falling to his knees. Looking down, he was thankful for the thin cotton padding he wore inside, which prevented his ribs from being pierced, but one was bent at a terrifying angle. Blood jetted out in a manner that even 'unrestrained' couldn't fully describe; clearly, the surrounding blood vessels had been completely torn by the demon’s violent tugging, the broken bone protruding through the skin, menacingly displaying a brutal aesthetic of violence in the open air.
The thick scent of blood slowly diffused into the air, and the moment it entered the drought demon's nostrils, it instantly transformed into a sweet delicacy, causing her to pause, intoxicated by the aroma. Seeing this, Zhang Enpu’s complexion shifted from pale to white, then from white to black, cycling through three changes in an instant. He knew the demon’s intentions well. His own death was a minor matter, but letting this drought demon escape would be tantamount to releasing a tiger back into the mountains. There were two villages nearby, and if this creature managed to spread its feeding, it would surely unleash a storm of carnage. Regret would come too late then. Realizing this, Zhang Enpu suddenly gritted his teeth. To hell with consequences—this final move had to be deployed early. Ignoring the intense pain, Zhang Enpu managed to stand, drawing the Dragon-Tiger Celestial Master Sword he kept strapped to his back. He stood still, struck his chest powerfully with his left hand, spraying a mist of blood onto the Celestial Master Sword. With his right hand, he wiped the blade, allowing the crimson droplets to soak into the entire surface of the metal. Then, he closed his eyes and recited a long, sonorous incantation.
“Heaven and Earth’s profound gate, root of ten thousand energies. Cultivating through myriad eons, proving my divine powers. Within and beyond the Three Realms, only the Dao is sovereign. My body possesses golden light, reflecting over me. Invisible to the eye, inaudible to the ear. Encompassing heaven and earth, nurturing all life. Reciting this once brings light upon the body. Guards of the Three Realms, summoned by the Five Emperors. Ten thousand spirits pay homage, commanding thunder and lightning. Ghosts and fiends lose heart, spirits and monsters lose form. Within rumbles thunder, the hidden name of the Thunder God. Insight penetrates thoroughly, the five vital breaths surge. Golden light quickly appears, protecting the True Master. Haste! As commanded by the Jade Emperor’s luminous decree!”
The very instant the chant ended, a sharp light burst from Zhang Enpu's eyes. His left foot bent, his right leg straight, he walked nine steps in a pattern resembling military formation deployment. His waist turned in a circle like a willow branch swaying in the wind; the posture was extremely strange yet utterly impeccable. One might think these steps were random, but no, no. If one examined them closely, there was profound wisdom embedded within. Zhang Enpu’s steps were known as the 'Yu Steps'—so named because tradition holds they were created by Yu the Great of the Xia Dynasty. The Yu Steps utilize the nine positions of the Bagua—Qian, Kan, Gen, Zhen, Xun, Li, Kun, Dui, and the central palace—symbolizing the Nine Provinces of the Han Dynasty as areas for maneuvering. It is a standard gait used by Daoist priests during rituals to petition the gods. Daoists venerate the sun, moon, and stars, placing special emphasis on the Big Dipper, believing that by praying in this manner, they can dispatch spirits, summon aid, obtain the essence of the Seven Stars’ spirits, and expel evil while welcoming the true. When Daoists circulate their qi or enter the mountains, they often employ this to gather energy and drive away malevolence. These Yu Steps follow the arrangement and turns of the Big Dipper, as if treading upon the celestial stars, hence they are also called 'Treading the Constellation Steps' (Bu Gang Ta Dou).
Having completed the Yu Steps, Zhang Enpu pointed his sword diagonally upward from below toward the drought demon. He dipped his free hand into a bit of blood and traced three elegant hand seals in the void. The afterimages of his last three movements overlapped and pressed fiercely onto his own brow—this technique was the ultimate secret of the Celestial Master Dao: 'Three Flowers Gathering at the Apex' (San Hua Ju Ding)!
"Pfft..." An intense discomfort surged in Zhang Enpu’s throat, causing him to involuntarily spit out another mist of blood, yet the movements of his hands did not falter in the slightest.
"Zhang Enpu, Sixty-third generation successor of the Celestial Master Dao, I invite the Ancestor Master to possess my body!" A line of blood trickled from the corner of Zhang Enpu's mouth, and his bell-like summons rolled out, vast and overwhelming, like the tide of the Qiantang River.
"Om..." Simultaneously, the Celestial Master Sword gripped in Zhang Enpu's hand vibrated intensely, as if emitting an ancient cry or perhaps welcoming an arrival. The amplitude of the sword's trembling grew wider and wider, and Zhang Enpu shook along with it, like someone suffering from severe chills—he looked so afflicted that if he had begun foaming at the mouth, he would surely be loaded onto a cart and rushed to a doctor for epilepsy treatment.
Yet, strangely, the sensation of pain throughout Zhang Enpu’s body began to gradually disappear in rhythm with the violent shaking. Inside his body, a transformation seemed to occur—it felt as if a mysterious power emanated from his chest, flooding every part of his body. Every region the power passed through erupted with an indescribable sense of exhilarating clarity. The power saturated his brain, and gradually, Zhang Enpu’s consciousness sharpened; even his eyes began to gleam with vitality.
Zhang Enpu could only feel the physical changes, but he could not see them due to some profound, spiritual summoning. Every one of the cells in his body was undergoing fission, one becoming two, two becoming four. Moreover, the cells’ capabilities were not diminished by this doubling; on the contrary, they seemed to evolve autonomously. As one cell split into two, not only did the quantity change, but the quality underwent a massive transformation. They were evolving on their own!
Of course, Zhang Enpu was unaware of these precise details. Cells continued to divide one after another, and his entire body structure underwent a brief metamorphosis.
At this moment, an astonishing scene unfolded. Zhang Enpu’s sensation started at the soles of his feet, where he gradually felt a strangeness—a slight itch, as if wounds were healing. At first, this feeling was minor, but it quickly shot from his feet throughout his entire body.
Suddenly, a series of cracking sounds erupted from Zhang Enpu’s once-bony frame, pili-pala, a lively chorus of snapping bones. The muscles in his arms, at the same instant, bloomed like old vines climbing branches, like withered wood regaining spring vitality, swelling rapidly at a visible rate. This growth made the once-loose Daoist robe fit him perfectly. Now, taking a close look, if not for the unchanged elderly appearance of his face, one might have mistaken him for a sturdy, imposing man in his early twenties from Northeast China, standing tall and vigorous. It was fortunate that Young Master Liu and others were not present, lest they be utterly astonished.