Chapter Twenty-Three: Monsters on the Tip of the Tongue

Fang Xiao was still young at heart.

Having a little sister like Sophora speak so highly of him filled him with delight.

He fetched his military satchel and fished out two White Rabbit milk candies.

However, Sophora paid no attention to the candy he offered; her gaze fell instead on his hand wrapped in a towel.

The little girl asked in surprise, “Brother, are you hurt?”

“It’s nothing,” Fang Xiao replied carelessly, unwrapping the towel that had turned dark red and showing her his palm.

The wounds he had sustained in last night’s fight had already scabbed over.

Sophora wrinkled her nose and said softly, “Brother Fang, does it hurt a lot?”

“Just a little,” Fang Xiao smiled as he stuffed the candy into her mouth, lest the little girl keep peppering him with questions.

Sophora closed her lips, her eyes forming cheerful crescents.

Fang Xiao bent down to pick up the bamboo basket on the ground and saw it was full of vegetable buns.

Famished as he was, he didn’t find them the least bit unappealing; he immediately grabbed one in each hand and began to eat heartily.

Chewing on her candy, Sophora pointed at the corpse of the wolf demon on the ground and asked through a mouthful of sweetness, “Brother, are we just going to leave this monster here?”

It was clear she was no longer afraid.

The little girl happened to voice Fang Xiao’s own dilemma: “I have no idea either. I was wondering if the monster could be eaten, or maybe taken to town and sold for silver?”

He hadn’t really expected an answer from Sophora.

But she pondered for a moment and said earnestly, “The Daoist priest said that most demons can be eaten, but how you eat them is quite the art!”

Fang Xiao was astonished: “The Daoist priest told you that?”

“No,” Sophora shook her head. “He told my mother.”

She proceeded to count on her fingers as she recited: “The Daoist priest said, goat demons’ meat should be skewered and grilled, venison from deer demons braised in yellow wine, and snake demons’ flesh is best when chopped, coated in flour, and deep-fried!”

As she spoke, she couldn’t help but swallow a mouthful of sweet saliva.

Fang Xiao smacked his lips.

Suddenly, the vegetable buns in his hands seemed utterly tasteless.

Sophora continued, “And then there’s the earth demon—wrap it in lotus leaves, cover it with mud, and bake it over charcoal until the outside is crisp and the inside tender. The flavor is just divine!”

“Wait,” Fang Xiao interjected, “what kind of demon is an earth demon?”

Sophora shook her head again. “I don’t know, either.”

Fang Xiao’s curiosity was piqued, “What about wolf demons?”

“Wolf demons?” Sophora thought for a moment. “Hmm, the Daoist priest said wolf demons are like yellow weasels—their meat is sour, so bad even dogs won’t touch it!”

“There’s more,” Sophora went on, “the Daoist priest’s favorite is the pig demon!”

“Pig liver, pig heart, pig lungs, pig intestines, pig ears—best made into a savory stew, perfect with wine.”

“Render the fat for lard, puff the skin, slice the belly cold, stew the ribs with lotus root…”

She rattled off a dozen dishes in one breath!

At last, Sophora added, “The Daoist priest even said that one day he’ll write a cookbook called ‘Demons on the Tip of the Tongue’!”

Fang Xiao found the bun in his mouth as tasteless as chewed wax.

He could only sigh from the heart, “The Daoist priest truly knows how to eat—and does it with gusto! No wonder he’s so fat!”

“Fang Xiao!”

He had barely finished speaking when a thunderous roar erupted from outside the kitchen: “Here I am running errands out there, while you lounge at home gossiping with little girls—does your conscience not ache?”

Fang Xiao jumped in fright.

But then he was overjoyed: “Daoist priest, you’re back?”

He turned his head and saw Daoist Pang, chest out, belly thrust forward, standing in the doorway with his beady eyes glaring wide.

Daoist Pang huffed, pointing at him with his horsetail whisk: “If I hadn’t come back, this temple would’ve been torn apart by demons!”

Fang Xiao hung his head in shame. “Daoist priest, I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Daoist Pang was clearly already aware of what had happened.

With the evidence before them, Fang Xiao didn’t bother making excuses.

“You did nothing wrong,” Daoist Pang shook his head and said gravely, “Our Little Jing Mountain Temple will not tolerate insult from demons or monsters!”

“Those yellow weasels at the gate, and that lame old wolf from the northern ridge…”

“Well killed, well done, perfectly executed!”

Fang Xiao could only mutter, “Uh…”

He had no idea how to respond.

Truth be told, Fang Xiao had known Daoist Pang for some time now.

But he’d never grown accustomed to the man’s oddities and eccentric turns of phrase.

Still, no matter what—

In Fang Xiao’s heart, the Daoist priest was a good man!

The rest was of no consequence.

“Don’t worry,” Daoist Pang stepped forward and gave Fang Xiao a hearty slap on the shoulder with his plump hand. “That so-called Yellow Wind Patriarch—Daoist priest here just never bothered to get involved before.”

“If he dares come to my door, I’ll have his hide for a rug!”

Fang Xiao nodded, “Alright.”

Daoist Pang’s sudden return had set his mind at ease.

Yet at this very moment, Fang Xiao was unaware of the shock in Daoist Pang’s heart.

Though he was a cultivator, Daoist Pang also had a foundation in martial arts, and with his sturdy build, he was no weakling.

When he’d clapped Fang Xiao on the shoulder just now, he had deliberately used a bit of hidden force.

But Fang Xiao hadn’t budged an inch, as if he hadn’t felt it at all!

This only confirmed what Daoist Pang had sensed the moment he laid eyes on Fang Xiao upon his return.

The boy had grown even stronger!

Daoist Pang had only been gone from the temple for a few days, yet Fang Xiao seemed to have undergone another transformation, exuding a presence and aura completely different from before.

Daoist Pang knew full well.

Fang Xiao had no famous master to guide him in martial arts.

He himself was only a half-baked practitioner, having given Fang Xiao two martial arts manuals and taught him some basic knowledge.

That was all.

Yet Fang Xiao’s progress in cultivation had completely upended Daoist Pang’s understanding!

Was this the power of a true martial arts prodigy?

Daoist Pang could not put his feelings into words.

His gaze shifted to Sophora, who was hiding behind Fang Xiao. He immediately forced a greasy, broad smile: “Little Sophora, your mother isn’t here?”

The little girl shook her head like a rattle-drum: “No, she’s not here. My mother went to town to bring clothes to my sister.”

“Oh!” Daoist Pang sighed with exaggerated regret, then said, “Little Sophora, you should head home now. I have important matters to discuss with your Brother Fang, and it’s not convenient to look after you right now.”

“I’ll walk her back to the village,” Fang Xiao said at once.

Though the Daoist priest had returned and the temple was safe, the road down the mountain to the village might still hold dangers.

Daoist Pang had no objection.

So Fang Xiao picked up the empty bamboo basket and took Sophora’s small hand. “Let’s go.”

Daoist Pang watched them go, chuckling.

A light blush colored the little girl’s cheeks, but she let Fang Xiao lead her without protest.

Fang Xiao found it a bit odd but didn’t think much of it.

He thought of Sophora as the little sister from next door who, when she was younger, had followed him everywhere with a runny nose.

After escorting the girl back to Zhen Village, Fang Xiao hurried back to the temple.

He had many questions that needed answers from the Daoist priest!