Volume One: All Things Awaken, Four Seasons Become Spring Chapter Twenty: Black Coal Ball, True Sword Hound

Mo Wen’s sudden appearance startled the two old figures. The crone retreated several steps in alarm, while the old man with the cane also fell back in silence, keeping a wary distance from Mo Wen.

Liu Buhuo, sensing a glimmer of hope, mustered his last strength and shouted, “Young man, help me! These two old devils are trying to steal my Zelin Herb and silence me!”

Mo Wen’s face remained impassive, unwilling to waste words. He circulated his inner energy, sending a burst of wind from his fist directly at the old woman.

Fist That Quells Mountains!

But the crone was well prepared. With a flick of her sleeve, a swarm of ants, each no larger than a thumb, shot out. Their mandibles were razor-sharp as they darted around the fist wind and lunged at Mo Wen.

The ants moved with alarming speed. Mo Wen had no time to dodge and felt several vicious bites on his arm, red welts rising where they struck. The crone cackled triumphantly at her success, sidestepping the brunt of the attack.

“Little one, how do you like the taste of Bone-Eating Blood Ants? A pity to waste such a fine body!”

Yet her smugness lasted less than half a minute before her expression twisted in horror. After feasting on Mo Wen’s flesh and blood, the ants began to shriek and convulse, their bodies bursting open in agony.

Mo Wen found it almost amusing. Even the Black Crows could barely withstand the power of his inner energy—how could he fear such dark, filthy creatures?

Seizing the moment of the crone’s shock, Mo Wen lunged forward and drove his fist straight at her head.

A sickening crack echoed—the crone’s head burst like a melon, and her corpse toppled stiffly to the ground. The Zelin Herb slipped from her grasp. Mo Wen snatched it up and stored it in the black sphere.

From the moment the crone unleashed her ants to the instant her skull shattered, only a heartbeat had passed. The old man staggered back, fear written across his face. He had known the crone for years; though they were often at odds, neither had ever prevailed. Who could have imagined she’d be killed in a single blow by this young man?

Liu Buhuo lay sprawled on the ground, clutching his chest. He gasped out a praise, then was wracked by violent coughs. Once he caught his breath, he pleaded with Mo Wen, “Brother, I’m finished. Please, help me kill that old fiend—he practices evil arts, draining people’s blood to prolong his own life!”

His trembling finger pointed at the old man with the cane. Then Liu Buhuo’s head lolled to the side. His injuries were fatal—he drew his last breath.

Mo Wen sighed inwardly. Ever since the world changed, the law of the dark forest reigned supreme; life and death had become everyday matters.

He turned to the old man, who looked flustered and hastened to defend himself, “Young friend, don’t listen to his nonsense! I found the Zelin Herb first, he stole it from me, and when he was defeated, he tried to slander me!”

Mo Wen watched the man’s performance with a hint of mockery—he had seen the greedy glint in the old man’s eyes earlier.

In his desperation to survive, the old man said, “I’ll give you the Zelin Herb! Farewell!”

Unnoticed, his hand had filled with iron sand, which he flung at Mo Wen as he spoke, creating a cloud of glittering metal. Without missing a beat, he turned and bolted away, all traces of age and frailty gone.

Mo Wen was about to give chase when the black sphere appeared on its own. A black longsword shot out, streaking through the air and nailing the old man to a tree.

The blade pierced the old man’s throat, leaving him unable to speak, only to emit a dry, rasping sound. In moments, his head slumped and he was dead.

The sword withdrew from the tree and began to circle around Mo Wen. Suddenly, a girl’s voice sounded in his ear. Startled, he glanced about, but saw no one.

“Sword Dog, don’t forget you’re a dog! Change back—now!”

Mo Wen was dumbfounded. The voice came from the black sphere—it could talk!

At the command, the black sword plunged into the ground, rang out with a metallic hum, and morphed into a small black dog, sleek and glossy, lolling a pink tongue as it pawed at Mo Wen’s pant leg.

“Kid, don’t you think I’m dashing?”

The black dog spoke in a slightly arrogant tone.

Mo Wen was rendered speechless. Had he and the sphere rescued a so-called ‘master’?

Seeing that Mo Wen ignored him, the black dog grew bored and began to play with the black sphere, sniffing and licking it with gusto, looking quite ridiculous.

“Hey, Coal Ball, don’t you think I’m handsome?” The black dog’s round eyes blinked innocently, but its doggy face looked as cheeky as ever. The sphere, hearing itself called ‘Coal Ball,’ was clearly annoyed.

“Sword Dog, I told you not to call me Coal Ball—I am a fairy!”

With that, the sphere thumped Sword Dog’s nose several times, making him whimper in pain, but he didn’t dare fight back.

Mo Wen felt a headache coming on. What exactly were these two—no, this ball and this dog? They acted like a pair of overgrown, quarrelsome children. Life was sure to get lively from now on.

Daylight flooded the forest. Gazing at the three corpses sprawled on the ground, Mo Wen’s conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave them. He sent out his inner energy, dissolving the bodies, then collected their belongings. The crone’s possessions consisted mostly of poisonous insects; as for the old man, besides some money, he carried a small brown bone token, engraved with the characters ‘One Hundred and Sixteen.’

Mo Wen squeezed the token and found it was incredibly hard. Sword Dog, upon seeing the token, dropped his usual irreverence and grew serious.

“Coal Ball, don’t follow this guy—he’s doomed sooner or later,” Sword Dog said gravely.

Mo Wen sensed Sword Dog knew something and pressed for answers, but the dog fell silent. Coal Ball and Sword Dog seemed to share some tacit understanding and both refused to speak further. Coal Ball only scolded Sword Dog, “I like following my master—if you have a problem, you can leave!”

Sword Dog immediately put on a sycophantic grin. “No, no, if you like him, I like him too!”

Mo Wen couldn’t help but laugh—wasn’t this the very definition of a lapdog? Even the most servile would have to call you master!

Putting away the bone token, Mo Wen checked the sun’s position, found his bearings, and set off toward the Golden Summit of Ten Thousand Buddhas.

He wondered how the old Taoist Panda was faring.

As he traveled through the forest, Coal Ball grew so exasperated with Sword Dog’s fawning that she hid herself inside Mo Wen’s body, forbidding the dog from following. The moment Coal Ball disappeared, Sword Dog’s arrogance returned.

“Youngster, having me by your side is a rare fortune for you! Tell you what—apprentice yourself to me, and I’ll grant you unimaginable blessings!”

The dog’s posturing was as shameless as any street rogue.

Mo Wen was unmoved and kept probing gently for information. But Sword Dog was wary and refused to say anything about the bone token. When Mo Wen inquired about the Black Crow King, Sword Dog curled his lip in disdain. “Just a crow struggling against its fate. It won’t stir up any real trouble.”

After a pause, Sword Dog’s tone grew more wary. “But its master is truly formidable. I just hope he doesn’t appear anytime soon.”

Mo Wen was taken aback. The Black Crow King had boasted about marching an army and sacrificing the old Taoist as a battle flag—clearly there was more going on than he realized. When he pressed further, Sword Dog brushed him off with a look that said, “Who are you? Why should I tell you anything?”

Half an hour later, they reached the Golden Summit. Today, the doors to the Hall of Ten Thousand Buddhas were tightly shut. Only a few souls cultivating their spirits meditated outside. When he inquired, he learned the old Taoist had secluded himself.

Mo Wen bowed deeply toward the hall. No matter what, the Panda Taoist truly had saved his life.

Sitting cross-legged before the hall, Mo Wen felt a sense of loss. He had come here to seek Zhou Sheng, but had found no trace. Perhaps it was time to return to Magic City—at least there, he still had people he cared for.

“Lin Xi.”

He spoke her name unconsciously, a foolish smile spreading across his face. Sword Dog rolled his eyes, curled up in the leaves, and went to sleep, ignoring Mo Wen completely.