The instant the serpent moved, Qin Mu sprang skyward, his pig-knife falling like wind and rain, hacking madly at the vulnerable spot between its head and body!
Sunrise Over the Eastern Sea, a Thousand Rolling Waves!
That move of the Butcher must carry the momentum of a great sun first rising and a thousand waves stacking on the Eastern Sea — a peerless blade-sweep that sunders all things.
Qin Mu thought of nothing, held but one thought: out the blade, slash! Slash! Slash! Slash! Slash!
He must strike off this head!
Chi—
The serpent's blood flew, and its triangular head, broad as a tabletop, parted from its body. The head still gaped its cavernous maw, snapping at the family of three ahead, seeming not to know it was dead.
Seeing it about to strike, Qin Mu sprang onto the severed head hanging in midair, put his weight into his feet, crouched, and stamped the serpent's jaws shut.
The head, boy atop, dropped like a great leaden block and with a roar crashed before the frozen family.
The three stood dazed, staring blankly at the boy before them.
Qin Mu bent, grinned at the little girl, his teeth white: "Little miss, it's all right now."
A baby's cry came, and a woman rushed from the house shattered by the serpent, laughing: "Congratulations — mother and child both safe!"
Qin Mu sheathed the pig-knife in the oxhide scabbard and ran back to the courtyard. The man had already burst into the room, while Grandma Si walked out, washed her hands, and looked back at the loving couple and child.
"Mu'er, you're satisfied, aren't you?" Grandma Si laughed.
Qin Mu nodded softly at the loving scene, his hand rising unbidden to the jade pendant at his chest.
Grandma Si saw his hand and sighed silently.
The Blind One came forward, yawned: "The matter's settled, time to sleep. Grandma, this family has few rooms — perhaps you and I can squeeze together…"
Grandma Si turned, her gaze fierce. The Blind One shivered, planted his bamboo staff, and turned away: "In these times a blind man gets bullied; hearts not what they used to be. I'll sleep in the street…"
"Grandma, why did the villagers never notice this serpent?" Qin Mu asked, puzzled, watching villagers laboriously drag the serpent's tail from the tree's hollow.
He had grown up in the Village of Broken Elders, where every villager had his affliction — even Grandma Si a hunchback. Yet in his heart the old folk of the village could do anything under or over heaven. The villagers of this place, though, were mostly ordinary; they had martial artists, but none of very high cultivation, which was why he wondered.
"In the Great Ruins, there is only one Village of Broken Elders."
Grandma Si's gaze turned deep: "Most folk here are ordinary. They are those who, when the Great Ruins suffered its Cataclysm, had no time to flee. Some fled the outside world, where they could not make a living, to escape crushing taxes and landlords — hoping to survive."
"The outside world?" Qin Mu's eyes lit.
"The outside world is more dangerous than the Great Ruins!" Grandma Si snorted. "Else why would Grandma and the Blind One have been driven to hide in the Great Ruins! Don't keep dwelling on it."
Qin Mu scratched his head, puzzled that always-affable Grandma Si had flown into a temper.
Grandma Si lowered her voice: "There is something strange about this serpent. Ordinarily spirit beasts cannot enter a village, yet this one hid for years. I fear it was put here deliberately… This snake-cultivating seems a method of the demonic sect. Heh heh. Tonight, who knows what fine doings there may be…"
"The serpent was deliberately put here to harm people?"
Qin Mu's heart chilled with awe. Was that not a foul affront to karmic decency? To use babies to cultivate a snake — what good could it do him?
"Mu'er, strange things may come seeking you tonight. If you see them, do not move, do not raise a fuss; wait till dawn and the outcome will show."
Grandma Si laughed low, baring her scattered teeth: "He uses the serpent to draw off the infants' essence and souls, then draws off the serpent's own essence to reverse his innate corruption. He must have been refining it for years; his skill is exceptional. But in the outside world someone would slay him for righteousness, so he came into the Great Ruins to work his mischief. Mu'er, the one who comes tonight is beyond you. Just watch."
Qin Mu nodded, unease gnawing.
The household carried on long, crying and laughing by turns, and only then thought to lodge Grandma Si and Qin Mu. The couple gave up their main hall and inner chamber. Qin Mu felt it improper, but Grandma Si did not refuse; she had Qin Mu sleep in the hall, and slept in the inner room herself.
Soon both lay down. Qin Mu forced his eyes open, but in time his lids fell. At dead midnight Qin Mu trembled without willing it, hurriedly opened his eyes, and found he could not move!
The main-hall door creaked open, dim light slanting in, and a long shadow stretched across the floor.
Qin Mu parted his lips but made no sound, could not possibly warn Grandma Si!
The shadow on the floor trembled, then moved, climbing from the floor up the wall. On the wall it twisted, waving clawing limbs, twice as hideous.
Cold sweat on his brow, Qin Mu saw the shadow climb and climb to the ceiling, hang upside down, and stare fixedly at him.
His eyes went wide. What hung down was a real shadow, flat, yet uncannily supple — like a martial artist versed in the arts of the boneless body!
But it was only a shadow — how could it move about freely? And where was its master?
Hu—
A gust blew in through the door crack, and on it floated a small triangular white banner, which the shadow seized and waved at Qin Mu.
At that moment the door to Grandma Si's room creaked open a crack, and out floated a gleaming silver bead — the silver pellet from her room. It stopped before his brow, hung still, spinning soundlessly, streaming out near-invisible hair-thin swords.
The black shadow on the ceiling waved its banner, flitting about the room; the banner came and went like lightning, striking again and again at Qin Mu in his bed. The silver bead moved too, colliding with the banner in silence, always holding it back.
The two thrashed and clashed through the room, yet never a sound passed — a deathly quiet — nor did they damage a single thing.
After a while the shadow trembled once, spat a mouthful of blood from its shadow-mouth, and the banner flapped away and fled; the dark shadow flowed out like water and vanished.
The silver bead halted a moment, returned to the inner room, and was seen no more.
Qin Mu found he could move, and gasped great lungfuls of air, not understanding what had passed. But the bloodstains on the ground showed it had all been real.
Outside, all was still. After a while a gong clanged — the village's night watchman calling the hour, so the villagers would not rise early to be swallowed by the dark.
He struck three beats, put the gong away, and went home. At his own door he saw a blind man hobbling past with a cane. "Old brother, find yourself a spot to rest!" he called, hurrying to block him, laughing: "It's so late — mind you don't step out of the village and get eaten!"
The blind man smiled, tapped the watchman's shadow with his bamboo staff, and laughed: "Thank you for the warning." And so, staff tapping all the way, he made off into the distance.
Pu, pu—
Two holes burst through the watchman's chest, front and back; his body swayed and he crumpled.
"So fast a spear, to break my arts! Cough, cough. I know you. You are blind — and far stronger than before…"
The watchman let out one last breath and died.
A triangular white banner drifted down from the air and fell over his face.