Chapter 4: There Are Snake Demons in This Area

Cao Kong’s spirit delved inward, and soon he sensed an invisible barrier, like a doorway, gathering at the crown of his head. With a single thought, he pushed open this door, and a strange and wondrous vision unfolded within his mind.

He saw his own Mud Pill Palace—golden energy swirling within, and a single point of light shining eternally. Looking closer, he realized it was a tiny golden figure, intimately connected to his will.

In that instant, Cao Kong’s spirit trembled with awe—he understood that he had stumbled upon a tremendous opportunity. These eighty sacred words were no ordinary incantation, even among the immortal mantras!

He had actually opened the Mud Pill Palace, also known as the “Yellow Court” or “Heavenly Brain,” the most vital center within the human body, the seat of countless deities and the illumination of the soul.

Cao Kong had heard in his previous life that the human body contains three elixir fields—upper, middle, and lower—the three paths of cultivation. Generally, practice begins from the lower field, then the middle, and finally the upper. The upper elixir field is both the most perilous and the most difficult to open, yet once accessed, its rewards are the greatest—it is the ancestral aperture, the gate to the Great Dao, the place countless cultivators dream of reaching.

Yet after practicing the eighty sacred words, Cao Kong had achieved the impossible with ease—he opened the ancestral aperture first, nurturing his primordial spirit, cultivating magical power. Henceforth his path of cultivation would be as smooth as a broad avenue, with nothing to bar his entry to the gates of the immortals.

Cao Kong’s heart pounded wildly, and after exhaling a breath of pure air, he mused:

“If the Yellow Lion Spirit is willing to recite these eighty sacred words to the little demons, it means he doesn’t care if others learn them. In that case, in a few days I’ll go ask about their origin. That way, not only will I resolve my doubts, but I’ll also have a legitimate reason to use this art in the future—otherwise, it would always feel like I’d stolen it.”

Then, with a hint of mischief, he wondered why the eighty sacred words were so powerful, yet in the original tale the Yellow Lion Spirit never seemed to use them. Was it by choice?

For the next two or three days, Cao Kong continued to cultivate the eighty sacred words. He found that, by guiding his spirit through his body, his practice was unimpeded, requiring none of the deliberate effort or timing that drawing in moonlight had once demanded.

Meanwhile, the Leopard was restless and playful, mingling freely with the little demons of Leopard Head Mountain, often bribing them with gold and silver—much to their eager delight.

On another day, Cao Kong “accidentally” wandered beneath the tall flowering tree and “happened” to overhear the Yellow Lion Spirit instructing the little demons in scripture recitation.

Feigning surprise, Cao Kong said, “Great King, are you reciting scriptures? To be honest, I have always loved sacred texts since childhood. Might I listen and learn as well?”

The Yellow Lion Spirit burst out laughing. “This was handed down from my ancestor. If you want to listen, go ahead—just don’t teach outsiders.”

Cao Kong smiled. The Yellow Lion Spirit was indeed agreeable. He then asked, “Does this scripture have a name?”

The Yellow Lion Spirit scratched his head. “Ah, yes, my ancestor did mention it. It’s called the Grand Talisman of Supreme Golden Light—yes, that’s it, the Grand Talisman of Supreme Golden Light.”

Cao Kong was stunned—wait, the Golden Light Talisman, the pinnacle of all incantations?

Seeing Cao Kong’s expression, the Yellow Lion Spirit assumed he thought it was something remarkable, and quickly said:

“Brother Cao, just think of this as a pleasant pastime, nothing to take too seriously. My ancestor said that reading it often is beneficial, but after more than ten years of recitation, all I’ve noticed is a clearer mind—nothing else.”

Cao Kong fell silent, recalling his recent leaps in progress, the opening of his Mud Pill Palace, the nurturing of his primordial spirit, and the mystical golden energy.

Nothing else, he said? That couldn’t be right.

For some reason, the more he looked at the Yellow Lion Spirit, the more he was reminded of the underachievers in his previous life.

The Yellow Lion Spirit noticed nothing, and continued reciting the Golden Light Talisman. This time, Cao Kong listened openly, his heart at ease, and could rightfully claim the learning as his own.

When the Yellow Lion Spirit finished his morning recitation, Cao Kong smiled and said, “Great King, you jest—this technique is excellent. Reciting it brings clarity and refreshment to the mind. Your ancestor must have been a remarkable figure.”

The Yellow Lion Spirit laughed boisterously. “Naturally! My ancestor was truly a being among immortals. You have no idea—decades ago, an evil demon plagued this land, bringing much suffering to us all. Then, one day, a divine lion descended from the heavens, defeated that demon in a single blow, and sent him fleeing without daring to look back. So my brothers and I all acknowledged him as our ancestor. Out of kindness, he taught us etiquette and principles, and passed on several magical arts, including the Golden Light Talisman.”

Cao Kong rose with deep respect. “To have such a person descend is truly awe-inspiring. I wonder if I might ever have the fortune to meet him?”

The Yellow Lion Spirit scratched his head. “Our ancestor left decades ago, saying he had matters to attend to. I don’t know where he is now.”

Cao Kong felt a twinge of disappointment, but quickly composed himself.

Smiling, he said, “It seems fate is not with me.”

They chatted a while longer, and the Yellow Lion Spirit produced a copy of the Analects, saying with pride, “Brother Cao, our ancestor not only taught us proper manners, he also left us books. So I am well-read, you see. Would you like to listen? As demons, we shouldn’t idle away every day—we should study something worthwhile.”

Of course, Cao Kong wouldn’t refuse him. He said with a smile, “I’d be delighted.”

Yet he could never have expected that the Yellow Lion Spirit’s teaching would truly delight him—in an entirely different way.

“Great King, what does it mean to ‘win people over with virtue’?” a little demon asked in puzzlement during the recitation.

“Ah, that,” replied the Yellow Lion Spirit, clearing his throat. “In my opinion, if you can win people over, then virtue must be a formidable treasure or magical power. Otherwise, why would anyone submit to you?”

“Ah, I see! Great King, you are so wise and learned!”

Cao Kong: “...”

He wore a strange expression and considered interjecting, but decided against it. Instead, he later borrowed the books from the Yellow Lion Spirit to study on his own.

Time flowed differently in the mountains. By day, Cao Kong read, recited scriptures, and pondered the Way; by night, he meditated and cultivated, never finding it dull, but rather, a source of joy.

Of late, however, Leopard Head Mountain seemed less peaceful.

The trouble began when the Yellow Lion Spirit, having come into some money, sent little demons to buy large quantities of clothing, wine, and livestock. The clothes and wine were easily stored on the mountain, but the pigs and sheep, bleating incessantly, frayed the demons’ nerves.

To restore peace, the Yellow Lion Spirit had the livestock penned at the mountain’s base, watched over by two little demons, so they could be fetched as needed.

But recently, the cattle and sheep had been stolen repeatedly. The two little demons, with tears and snot, swore it wasn’t their doing.

The Yellow Lion Spirit believed them—there were simply too many missing animals for two little demons to have eaten them all. He assigned more guards to watch.

One day, as Cao Kong was meditating in his cave, he heard frantic shouting outside.

“It’s terrible! Terrible!”

He stepped out in a flash, intercepted a yak spirit, and asked, “Why are you so panicked? What’s happened?”

The yak spirit replied in a rush, his bovine scent filling the air, his cow face twisted in fear, “I saw who’s been stealing our pigs and sheep!”

“Who?”

“A snake—a snake demon!”

“There’s a snake demon in this area, sir!”

Cao Kong: That damned yak smell.