Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Monkey King Offers Wine

The Red-Faced Demon’s forehead was shattered by the Monkey King, and he died instantly on the spot. The crimson ghost banner, deprived of its master’s power, immediately lost its magical force and drifted gently from midair, where Liang Yan seized it in one swift motion. The black wooden stake, too, became nothing more than a lifeless object; the surrounding wall of black mist had dissipated completely, and the six little ghosts vanished into vapor at the same moment.

With a sharp whistle cutting through the air, Liang Yan rushed to Li Xiran’s side. Her waist was soaked in blood, staining half her garment, and she coughed up crimson from her lips, her face pale and haggard, struggling to rise from the ground.

Her wounds were severe; several times she attempted to stand, only to tremble and collapse back down.

Liang Yan, feeling compassion, quickly stepped forward and helped her sit up.

“Why put yourself through this?” Liang Yan sighed.

“To vanquish evil and defend the Dao, it is our duty as cultivators… cough, cough… our inescapable duty,” Li Xiran leaned against a massive boulder, breathing weakly.

“Have you ever considered,” Liang Yan asked, “that we cultivators seek longevity and happiness? With such fierce resolve, one misstep could mean death and the erasure of your Dao. The world would be left without Li Xiran.”

Li Xiran closed her eyes and replied, “If my heart is lacking in the Dao, and regret fills my soul, even if I attain longevity, I would not be happy.”

Liang Yan was moved by her words and gazed at her with renewed depth.

Though nearly eighteen, her delicate face was innocent and charming, like a young girl. Yet, upon such a lovely visage, there was never anything but seriousness and gravity, as if she would not rest until all evil in the world was destroyed.

“Should I say her temperament is too earnest, almost rigid?” Liang Yan mused silently. But then he reconsidered; perhaps he was not qualified to judge her. He could only shake his head and offer a wry smile. “Rest here awhile. I’ll go and release the townsfolk from the evil spell.”

Liang Yan employed a grand Buddhist technique to lift the spell from over a hundred people. However, twenty-some left in the cave had been under the spell too long and could not be saved.

The number of victims was great, and even for Liang Yan, it took a full hour to complete the task. Those people awoke as if from a dream, and after hearing Liang Yan’s explanation, believed they had been drugged by mountain bandits and rescued by him. They thanked him profusely and descended the mountain.

Only after the last group departed did Liang Yan turn back toward Li Xiran. From afar, he saw a tall figure beside her—the Monkey King had returned.

Liang Yan felt a sudden unease. He had been wholly absorbed in breaking the spell, never noticing the Monkey King’s approach. While they had fought together, the heart of a beast was unpredictable; who could say if it harbored ill intentions now?

Quickening his pace, Liang Yan hurried to Li Xiran’s side and asked, “How are you? Are you alright?” He glanced at the Monkey King, deliberately and inadvertently.

Li Xiran, knowing his concern, smiled faintly, “You’re here. The Monkey King said he wants to thank you.”

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“How did you know—?” Liang Yan’s question was cut short, as the Monkey King stepped before him, planted his ebony staff in the earth, and pressed his palms together, bowing deeply in imitation of human etiquette.

Liang Yan was momentarily speechless; to accept or decline this gesture was equally awkward.

To accept it seemed undeserved. The battle against the Red-Faced Demon had relied mainly on the Monkey King and Li Xiran; his own contribution was minor. Moreover, before arriving, his mind was set on how to fight these spirit monkeys and seize their Spirit Monkey Wine. Such a greeting felt utterly unearned.

To refuse, however, would be foolish; he could not anticipate the moods of these beasts, and offending them would not be wise.

Left with no choice, Liang Yan mirrored the Monkey King’s gesture and bowed in return.

Man and monkey stood opposite, their sizes differing by more than double, yet both bent low in mutual respect.

Li Xiran, watching from the side, couldn’t help but laugh. Yet the laughter tugged at her injured chest, and she coughed again, blood spilling forth.

Liang Yan snapped back to attention, concerned. “Your injuries are grave; ordinary pills may not suffice. Are your sect elders nearby? Should I take you to them?”

Li Xiran coughed, “No need. My sect is far from here, and my elders are not close. But don’t worry, the Monkey King said he has a way to heal me.”

“What?” Liang Yan was momentarily confused and sought clarification. Just then, footsteps sounded from the forest, and a troop of spirit monkeys emerged—over twenty, old and young. The smallest was a newborn, cradled in its mother’s arms.

A young spirit monkey darted forward, circling Liang Yan’s feet, running and gesticulating excitedly, croaking noisily.

Liang Yan, though confident in his wits, could not converse with monkeys. Just as embarrassment crept over him, Li Xiran spoke:

“It’s praising you as a great hero, saying that one day it hopes to cultivate and become someone like you!”

“What? You understand monkey speech?” Liang Yan asked, suspicious.

Li Xiran smiled gently, “All things have spirit. If you listen with your heart, you can grasp their essence.”

As she finished, the Monkey King gestured to the troop, and four spirit monkeys stepped out and ran back into the forest.

“What is it saying now?” Liang Yan asked curiously.

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Li Xiran pursed her lips with a smile, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Liang Yan’s curiosity grew, but he could only wait. Before long, the four spirit monkeys returned, bearing a massive wine jar between their shoulders.

They staggered forward, setting the jar before Liang Yan, then climbed atop and removed the seal. Immediately, a rich aroma of wine wafted through the air; even Liang Yan, who never drank, could not doubt its exquisite fragrance—it was surely a peerless spirit.

“Spirit Monkey Wine!” Liang Yan exclaimed.

Li Xiran laughed, “The Red-Faced Demon had planned to seize the monkey brains and destroy the tribe. The Monkey King thanks us for helping it defeat its enemy, and offers this ‘Spirit Monkey Wine’ as a token of gratitude.”

“So that’s it.” Liang Yan was elated and nodded, “Then I shall accept it gratefully.”

He looked at Li Xiran, “And you? Won’t you descend the mountain with me?”

She shook her head, “My injuries are too severe. The Monkey King just told me there’s a medicinal spring in the rear mountains that helps cultivators heal. Whenever they suffer grave wounds, they’re allowed to enter the spring. It’s invited me along, as thanks for my assistance.”

As she spoke, several spirit monkeys helped her to her feet. She looked at Liang Yan and continued, “This matter was resolved thanks to you, Brother Liang. Alone, I could never have slain the Red-Faced Demon. If I was impolite before, please don’t take it to heart.” She bowed, making a show of etiquette despite her weakness.

Liang Yan quickly waved his hand, “Li Daoist, Li Hero, please don’t do this. We’re friends now—friends who’ve risked our lives together. If you insist on such formalities, are you looking down on me?”

Li Xiran laughed brightly, “Alright, Brother Liang! Then we’ll meet again someday!”

“Until we meet again!” Liang Yan replied with a smile.

They bid each other farewell. The monkey troop supported Li Xiran, helping her step by step into the depths of the forest.

Liang Yan watched her go until she vanished from sight, thinking, “This girl is indeed extraordinary. Yet every time I meet her, trouble follows—either I’m fighting some demon, or battling some monster. Tsk tsk, better to avoid her!”

He grumbled inwardly, then turned to the massive jar of Spirit Monkey Wine, feeling both amused and satisfied. His original plan had been to attack the Golden-Crested Spirit Monkeys for their wine, yet he never fought them—instead, they stood together against a common foe. By a twist of fate, he ended up with a huge jar of Spirit Monkey Wine after all.

Liang Yan was thoroughly delighted, and stowed the wine jar in his storage pouch. He thought, “No matter what, the first of these three treasures—the ‘Spirit Monkey Wine’—is mine at last.”