Chapter 66: Demons and City Gods, The True Deity and the Unorthodox Worship (Double Chapter)

Today, the true master has graced my son's wedding banquet, and my heart is filled with joy. My servants were rather rude just now; I hope you will forgive them.

Master Zhao raised his glass to offer a toast, beside him stood the jubilant groom, his face alight with laughter and cheerfulness.

Cao Kong lifted his cup from the table and drank with them. His gaze swept over the jubilant groom, and he detected a faint but distinct trace of an unusual aura—one that could only be described as demonic.

Master Zhao, observing Cao Kong’s calm and unhurried manner, thought to himself, Truly extraordinary.

He made no mention of the earlier incident with the writing, instead inviting Cao Kong into the main hall, along with Daoist Yun Song and his companions, as well as the old man, who were all welcomed inside together.

He was indeed a magnanimous man.

The main hall was filled mostly with Zhao family relatives and elders. They had heard of the events in the front courtyard and cast curious glances at Cao Kong, hoping to discern if there was anything remarkable about this Daoist.

Some whispered to themselves, He doesn’t seem particularly miraculous—just rather handsome.

Soon, hot dishes were served one after another—fish and meat, hearty fare with steam rising from the pots. As the main hall, their food naturally came out first.

Before long, the table was laden with dishes and everyone began to eat. In the heat of August, the meal left them both thoroughly satisfied and dripping with sweat.

Daoist Yun Song, seated next to Cao Kong, noticed something amiss: how was it that this Daoist beside him showed no sign of perspiration in such sweltering weather?

He remarked, “Fellow Daoist, your cultivation must be remarkable; in this heat, you do not sweat at all.”

Everyone at the table turned to look, intrigued, and asked questions, which Cao Kong deftly deflected.

The groom came to offer another toast, walking with a limp—clearly afflicted in his foot—yet his eyes were bright, and he circled the table cheerfully, his face flushed from wine and genuine happiness, surely having married his beloved.

During the banquet, Master Zhao returned to ask Cao Kong and Yun Song where they would spend the night. Upon learning that they had no lodgings in the city, he extended an enthusiastic invitation. Yun Song was tempted, for the journey was not short, and staying overnight would certainly be preferable.

Cao Kong agreed with a smile.

As the festivities wound down, the table was cleared of food; even the leftovers were shamelessly packed up and taken away by guests.

The groom, his face bright red amid the lively din, retreated to the inner room, where his bride awaited in solitude. After the wedding banquet, the nuptial chamber beckoned.

Cao Kong and Yun Song, along with the others, were led to a side residence in the Zhao manor; the old man had disappeared somewhere.

Their guide was Zhao San, who had previously received them.

Once they reached their room, Zhao San hesitated, finally steeling himself to approach Cao Kong: “Master, true one, earlier I spoke a bit harshly—it was not intentional. I hope you will forgive me.”

He bowed deeply as he spoke.

Cao Kong replied in surprise, “What fault did you commit? It was merely proper hospitality.”

Zhao San’s expression relaxed upon hearing this, realizing the true master’s generosity. He felt relieved and departed with a bow.

Having eaten and drunk their fill, a sense of restlessness arose. The August heat drove Yun Song and his companions to sit outside the door for cool air; Cao Kong joined them.

Just then, a black dog kept by the manor began barking wildly, agitated and restless.

Black dogs are sensitive; such behavior was not normal.

Cao Kong looked toward the newlyweds’ chamber, where the demonic aura was growing thicker.

He gazed into the distance and saw, beneath the window frame, a shadow flickering—clearly not human.

Something’s wrong; a demon is causing trouble, Cao Kong’s intuition sharpened. Remembering Master Zhao’s kindly demeanor and his invitation to stay, Cao Kong strode toward the chamber.

With a mere shift of his body, a gust of wind swept past.

The upright Daoist glanced over, startled to find that Cao Kong, who had just been beside him, had vanished.

In the blink of an eye, Cao Kong had arrived outside the bridal chamber, where licentious voices could be heard.

“Lady, will you share my bed tonight?”

Before Cao Kong could act, a cold snort sounded from within, and a familiar aura wafted out—the scent of incense.

It’s the old man from earlier, who claimed to be the City God, Cao Kong realized.

“Wretch!”

“Hiss!”

A pained howl erupted from within; the window shattered abruptly, and a black shadow leapt out—a fox, its features twisted, demonic aura rising.

Cao Kong wasted no time and breathed out a green sword.

This was a wooden sword. In the moment it emerged, the southern seven stars of the sky lent their force, wood giving rise to fire, and the blade seemed wrapped in a cluster of crimson fireflies, soaring like a flaming bird toward the demon fox.

Nine years of cultivation atop Misty Mountain, Cao Kong had mastered the swords of the twenty-eight constellations, holding dominion over both eastern and western stars, and had reached a modest proficiency that allowed him glimpses of the gold and wood swords.

Thus, he now wielded the sword of the southern stars with a wooden blade, and the northern stars with a golden blade, striving to command all four celestial spirits to a comparable degree.

He sensed that if he could master all twenty-eight constellation swords, some profound mystery would surely arise.

Whoosh!

The wooden sword, blazing, streaked toward the demon fox. The fox shrieked, eyes wide in terror, and, by some unknown trick, its aura shriveled as it leapt away like an arrow released.

Cao Kong’s gaze remained fixed; if the fox escaped, his years of cultivation would have been in vain.

Sure enough, the sword, swift and relentless, pierced the fox, burning its body with unending flames. The fox howled in pain.

A cloud of smoke billowed forth, revealing the old man from earlier, who watched in astonishment and felt his respect for Cao Kong deepen.

“Thank you, true master, for your timely aid. Your skill is extraordinary. My surname is Song; I am the City God of this town.”

Song, the City God, bowed to Cao Kong, who returned the gesture.

In that exchange, the demon fox was reduced to a scorched corpse, howling in agony, its eyes glaring with venom at both Cao Kong and the City God as wisps of black smoke began to rise.

Song exclaimed, “That wild fox, whence did it learn the art of soul-leaving?”

He rapidly performed a series of hand gestures, summoning the power of incense and the wishes of the people—wondrous and potent for driving out evil and subduing demons.

But he was a moment too late. The black smoke coalesced into a form unseen by ordinary eyes, lunging to bite Song.

Ordinary demons, even if they know the art of soul-leaving, cannot persist; their vicious nature remains, and after death, they seek to trouble those who thwart them.

Song’s face grew grim, not out of fear—he was, after all, a City God with abundant incense and a powerful spiritual body—but the demon’s attack was swift, and if he took it head-on, he would suffer greatly.

Yet as the demon fox’s soul collided with Song, a burst of golden light shone from his body. The fox’s soul emitted a howl unheard by mortals, writhing in pain.

It tried to flee, but Song’s incantation was ready; the power of incense, like chains, bound the fox’s soul tightly, though Song himself looked perplexed.

Cao Kong’s expression was odd; he sensed the force of his own Supreme Golden Light Spell, then understood.

Song drew the incense chains tight, securing the fox’s soul, which was now utterly depleted.

He then took from his robes a roll of fine paper—the very one inscribed by Cao Kong earlier. Upon opening it, its spiritual intent remained, though its aura was nearly spent.

It was this very item that shielded Song from the attack.

Song sighed, “Your skill is remarkable, master. I never expected your inscription from earlier would spare me tonight.”

Cao Kong replied, “It was the City God’s own destiny.”

Song nodded, “This is not the place for conversation. I will return this fox’s soul to the temple for proper handling. As for the newlyweds—”

“Go ahead, City God. I have my own means; I will take care of everything.”

“Thank you, master. If you have time, please visit the City God’s temple.”

With thanks, Song departed in a puff of blue smoke.

Cao Kong examined the fox’s corpse with a frown; it was ominous, full of foul and turbid energy, and would bring harm to mortals if left here.

He rubbed his fingers, drawing on the power of the southern stars to summon fire, burning the corpse to ashes.

He then returned to the bridal chamber, paused at the door, and knocked three times. “May I enter?”

Hearing no response, he stepped inside. On the floor lay the groom from earlier, his mind clouded by demonic energy.

On the bed sat a woman, fully dressed, her face terrified, mouth opening and closing without a sound—also trapped by demonic energy.

Cao Kong said, “I am a Daoist cultivator. The demon fox is dead; please rest assured. I will now cast a spell to rescue you both.”

He pinched two points of golden light from the Supreme Golden Light Spell, its power to fill a room with auspicious energy especially effective against evil.

The golden light floated to the couple’s foreheads and merged within, dissolving the demonic aura that clouded their minds like melting snow.

The groom, still on the floor, began to snore; with the demon’s influence gone, the effects of the wine took over.

The bride let out a deep sigh, then knelt to the ground. “Thank you, master, for saving us.”

Cao Kong helped her up. “No need to thank me. After your wedding, if you have time, visit the City God’s temple and offer prayers; he is most efficacious.”

The bride thanked him repeatedly, tears streaming from her eyes—genuine fear and gratitude. Had no one intervened tonight, and the demon ruined her, she would have no face before her groom.

Seeing her so shaken, Cao Kong realized she would struggle to sleep. He sent a thread of spiritual energy into her body to soothe her mind, then guided the groom to the bed with a breeze, granting them a peaceful night.

He turned and departed, returning to the side residence. At dawn, he bid farewell to Yun Song and Master Zhao, then made his way to the City God’s temple.

After Cao Kong left, some time passed before the bride and groom awoke suddenly. The bride cried out, recounting the ordeal, leaving the groom frightened yet grateful, and Master Zhao’s face changed dramatically. He sent people to find the Daoist and thank him, but to no avail, sighing,

“To do good without seeking reward—that is the mark of a true master.”

Yun Song was astonished, then delighted, I actually traveled with an immortal!

······

In the City God’s temple, Song and Cao Kong sat together in conversation.

Song bowed in thanks: “Thank you, master, for your righteous aid. This fox demon appeared without warning and has caused trouble in my city more than once, preying especially on women’s purity.

Taking advantage of the Zhao family’s grand wedding, I set a trap, but missed my chance; nearly let it escape.

Had you not intervened, the fox would have fled and, in its hatred, might have inflicted disaster upon the city’s people. Now, sending it for judgment in the underworld, you’ve eased my worries.”

Cao Kong nodded, listening to the tale, intrigued by this sort of City God, whose methods were mysterious. He chatted idly, even mentioning a mountain god friend of his.

Song frowned and asked tentatively, “Has your sect never mentioned the rites of City Gods and Earth Deities?”

He studied Cao Kong, who radiated pure spiritual energy, wielded powerful spells, and whose inscription held spiritual force—all marks of a highly accomplished Daoist.

Cao Kong shook his head, noticing Song’s slightly serious expression.

“I have always cultivated in the mountains. I am visiting friends now, and know little of such rites.”

Song was puzzled, but remembered that some accomplished sages dwell long in the mountains, perhaps to avoid unsettling their disciples with worldly affairs.

He sincerely said, “If you have time, master, seek out the nearby kingdoms and speak of your friend’s virtues, so that he may be officially enshrined. Otherwise, if one day Heaven looks down, it may not bode well for your friend.”

“Why do you say so?”

Song explained, “Between Heaven and Earth, there is order. The rites of worship are matters of harmony among gods, people, and nature—of utmost importance. There is an official order, known as the Heavenly Court.

Thus, mountain gods and the like cannot simply claim titles; only those conferred by Heaven or the earthly kingdoms are valid. Otherwise, it is illicit worship.

To worship one who is not entitled is called illicit worship; illicit worship brings no blessings—only calamity.”

Cao Kong was startled, then silently lamented the luck of the mountain god of Mount Funiu, who seemed always unfortunate.

He resolved that, upon returning from his travels, he must seek a proper title for his mountain god friend, lest one day he lose a companion.

He continued conversing with Song for a long time. Song was upright, having died in service to the nation two centuries before; the ruler, moved by his deeds, enshrined him with a golden body. Over time, incense gathered, and he became City God.

From Song, Cao Kong learned much about the divine order and the mysteries of City Gods, broadening his horizons.

Finally, Cao Kong rose to take his leave. Song watched him go, mouth opening as if to request another inscription, for its miraculous protective power, but feeling he had no merit to ask, merely escorted him out.

Returning home, he found a cup of spiritual wine poured on the table, drank it with a smile, and felt a swirl of ice and fire within—a wondrous sensation.

Slightly tipsy, he took out the earlier inscription and affixed it to the City God’s temple.

It read: “A household that accumulates virtue and does good will surely have lasting blessings.”

······

After bidding farewell to Song, Cao Kong journeyed eastward, seeing many lands and customs, finding the mortal world well worth visiting.

In time, the dust and bustle of the world washed away the mountain purity in him, and he felt himself approaching a state of returning to simplicity.

As the years rolled by, he arrived at a river—the eight-hundred-li Tongtian River, later known as the haunt of the Great Spirit King.

Cao Kong suddenly murmured, sensing something extraordinary beneath the waters—a pure and potent energy.

“The spirit of the water veins?”