Chapter Thirty-Seven: Catching Mimy

Ignoring the advice and threats from Li Yishan and the little nun, He Chang’an was determined to act. Taken away to Chang’an? Such things were best left to idle speculation. To hand over his life to others—a foolish move, entirely contrary to He Chang’an’s nature. No matter how right Li Yishan and the little nun seemed, their logic flawless and persuasive, He Chang’an had already decided—

If he were to go to Chang’an, so be it. But he would never allow himself to be dragged there by force…

…

He Chang’an’s sudden arrival invigorated the three great scholars—the Dean, Wen Taiyuan, and Du Thirteen—who unleashed their most formidable attacks upon the ghostly thing. Wen Taiyuan flung an inkstone, Du Thirteen hurled a scroll named “The Soul-Severing Painting of Pure Brightness.”

Wen Taiyuan’s inkstone was a gift from the Emperor Taiwu of the Great Tang, imbued with royal authority and nurtured by sages to radiate righteous energy. It could suppress any sinister spirit of rank five or below. Du Thirteen’s “Soul-Severing Painting of Pure Brightness” drew on the notion of mournful spring rains, capable of directly assaulting the spirit of demons and ghosts.

The Dean, meanwhile, produced a carving knife from his breast. An ancient tool for inscribing words on stone steles and mountains, it was said that the Sub-Sage Meng Ke once used this knife to engrave the words of the Great Sage Confucius by the river and, in doing so, achieved enlightenment. This knife was the treasured artifact of the Great Tang Academy, possessed by all its Deans across generations. It bore another name: the “Knife of Time.”

It was believed that when Meng Ke inscribed “As the river flows, so passes time,” the sage’s insight into the power of time was infused into the blade, making it a formidable weapon for scholars. With his cultivation as a third-rank scholar, the Dean risked terrible backlash—hence his reluctance to use it unless absolutely necessary.

The three scholars’ actions were born of desperation. Yet, so long as they protected He Chang’an and the academy’s students, and ensured the flourishing of the Academy, what did it matter if they sacrificed themselves for righteousness? Such was the responsibility and awareness of a true teacher.

As the three artifacts were unleashed, sweeping away the ghostly face in the sky like autumn wind clearing fallen leaves, the three scholars collapsed to the ground, instantly aged by ten years…

Hiding nearby, He Chang’an sighed quietly, moved to the point of tears. Yet he felt it was somewhat unworthy.

“A scholar’s attack is far too costly—destroying a ghost’s shadow at the price of ten years of life…”

With dawn imminent and the power of the sinister spirits waning, it would have sufficed to strengthen defenses, wield righteous energy, and endure for half an hour until the ghosts retreated…

Yes, it was a bit pedantic.

…

As the rooster crowed twice and the eastern sky began to brighten, the three scholars shakily rose, surveyed their surroundings, and found He Chang’an had vanished once more.

‘Zhao Zheng: Brothers, where has that scoundrel gone again?’

‘Du Thirteen: As long as he’s not dead.’

‘Wen Taiyuan: Right, so long as nothing’s happened to him.’

‘Zhao Zheng: Does that rascal despise us scholars?’

‘Du Thirteen: Wait—there’s someone in the sanctuary… Li Yishan, and who’s that little nun?’

…

Li Yishan jolted awake, his tangled white hair trembling as the righteous energy forcibly revived him. His eyes opened to three unfriendly old faces leering at him, their smiles cruel. “Run, go on, keep running! When will you repay the silver you owe us?”

“Damn it, that scoundrel He Chang’an knocked me out and fled…” Li Yishan reached into his robes, his expression abruptly changing as he collapsed in a faint.

‘Zhao Zheng: Is he telling the truth?’

‘Du Thirteen, Wen Taiyuan: He’s lying!’

‘Zhao Zheng: How do you know?’

‘Du Thirteen, Wen Taiyuan: Have you ever seen Li Yishan with any silver?’

The Dean, suddenly enraged, shouted, “No feigning death here!”

Li Yishan scrambled upright, clutching the Dean, sobbing. “Dean, please calm your anger—I’ll return to the Academy, all right?”

“When will you repay the silver you borrowed?” the Dean asked through gritted teeth.

“In a few days, just a few days, Dean. I, Li Yishan, can never escape your grasp… Hm, where’s that scoundrel He Chang’an hiding? Let me go find him…”

Li Yishan grinned awkwardly, bowed repeatedly, and prepared to leave.

The Dean, Du Thirteen, and Wen Taiyuan shouted in unison, “Li Yishan, return to the Academy and be confined for three months!”

Li Yishan vanished on the spot…

…

Meanwhile, He Chang’an was stealthily making his way through the mountain woods.

He had become a “wanted criminal” pursued by all sides and dared not walk the main roads.

He needed to return once to the county office, find someone to clarify exactly what crime he had committed—why were so many people hunting for “the scoundrel He Chang’an”?

“The county bailiff should know something…”

With his twenty-third level of Qi-Absorbing cultivation, bolstered by righteous energy, he felt invigorated, covering seven or eight miles of mountain road in less than the time it took to finish a cup of tea.

He hid in waist-high wild grass, cautiously observed for a while, and, seeing nothing unusual, stood and headed for the city gate.

Then, someone seized him by the neck…

…

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he slowly regained consciousness, feeling cold all over.

Damp and chilly…

Had a female ghost possessed him again?

No, his kidneys didn’t ache…

He opened his eyes and found himself in dire straits: an iron collar chained his shoulders, iron shackles bound his hands and feet, and half his body was submerged in icy water.

“Damn it, I’ve finally been caught.”

“I haven’t really done anything heinous—just bullied some scholars and freeloaded off a few female ghosts…”

He Chang’an sighed inwardly. The knife was poised, and he was the fish on the chopping block—perhaps he’d crossed over in the wrong fashion…

He looked around: stone walls on all sides, a stone table, a stone stool, a green stone bed against the wall, an oil lamp flickering dimly—casting a sinister shadow over the entire cell.

He crawled up slowly and sat on the stone bed.

After soaking for who knows how long, his exposed skin looked deathly pale—he grimaced at the sight.

Quietly, he circulated his internal energy to dry his wet clothes and dispel the cold within.

“Whoever caught me—hopefully it’s not those damned eunuchs…”

He carefully checked himself and found nothing missing; for the moment, his parts were intact. That was some relief.

It definitely wasn’t the Academy scholars.

Though a bit stubborn and pedantic, those scholars were not the sort to stab one in the back…

Nor was it likely ghosts or demons.

Having “freeloaded” so much from the netherworld, he was intimately familiar with the chill of their aura.

Could it be the Demon-Slaying Bureau?

He Chang’an shuddered involuntarily, shook his head with a bitter smile, and muttered, “Damn, the lamb has entered the tiger’s den.”

According to Li Yishan, the Demon-Slaying Bureau of Great Tang reported directly to the emperor; its primary business was not exorcising demons but monitoring civil and military officials, and overseeing cultivators who strayed down dangerous paths…

Sounded suspiciously like the Eastern Surveillance Office.

“This time I’m truly doomed—righteous energy manifesting in a martial artist’s body is a serious issue.”

“The worst part is being recruited into service… That means losing my manhood!”