Chapter Nine: The Calm After the Storm

A thunderous roar, echoing through the mountains and forests, erupted from within Qin Ming’s bronze bell artifact!

The sound was deafening, a furious bellow that lingered, sending shockwaves outward. The sheer force of it was enough to terrify anyone who heard it. Centered on Qin Ming, wave after wave of sonic energy rolled out like a tide, sweeping everything before it, drowning the shrill cries of the Frenzied Howler Monkeys entirely.

The strange sonic attack from the monkeys was dispelled in an instant. The red haze in the eyes of the nearby spirit farmers began to fade, and their senses gradually returned to clarity.

The lower-ranked Frenzied Howler Monkeys scattered in panic, fleeing in all directions. The few monkeys closest to the range of the bronze bell—intent on attacking the formation where Qin Ming and his companion stood—were struck hardest. Their fur bristled, and terror overtook their faces as they trembled uncontrollably.

Yet the mid-tier Frenzied Howler Monkey, after a moment’s hesitation, quickly shook off its confusion and regained its ferocity, apparently unaffected.

It screeched sharply at the sky once more, rallying the monkeys to renew their assault. It seemed to have discerned the nature of the Beast-Repelling Art: all bluster and no real harm—impressive, but ineffective.

...

“My word, is that really the Beast-Repelling Art? Sounds more like the Lion’s Roar!”

“And with a built-in loudspeaker, at that.”

Even Qin Ming was startled by the effect. Casting the Beast-Repelling Art once had instantly drained a fifth of his internal spiritual power. Still, seeing it work on the monkey horde for the first time gave him some confidence.

“Fellow Daoist Qin, you actually know the Beast-Repelling Art!”

Master Su, standing behind him, was visibly surprised, reassessing Qin Ming with renewed curiosity, unsure how to judge this man before him.

“It’s hit-or-miss, Master Su. Please don't laugh at me.”

“Qin, be careful! The Frenzied Howler Monkeys are coming again!”

At the warning, Qin Ming focused, circulated his energy, and cast the Beast-Repelling Art once more.

...

Half a cup of tea later, at long last, a massive spirit vessel streaked across the sky, arriving instantly above the spirit fields.

Qin Ming looked up to see Steward Gu from the Spiritfeather Sect, leading a group of outer disciples to their aid.

“Just in time,” Qin Ming exhaled in relief.

He had just exhausted all five uses of the ‘Beast-Repelling Art.’ Now, his face was pale, his core energy nearly depleted. If not for his Evergreen Spiritual Power, which was double that of an ordinary cultivator, had Steward Gu arrived a moment later, he would have been out of strength entirely.

He was already considering using the ‘Minor Spiritual Power’ entry just to cling to life.

This beast raid had happened in the blink of an eye—barely half a quarter-hour had passed. The bizarre sonic attack left everyone completely unprepared.

“Hmph! These fiends—searched everywhere for you lately, and it turns out you were hiding right under my nose!”

Steward Gu was clearly furious. The spirit fields had suffered heavy losses, and as the chief officer in charge of the sect’s rice tax, he would surely be held responsible.

With a flick of his finger, a crimson flying sword shot from his hand—a streak of rainbow light arcing through the sky.

The sword pierced straight through the mid-tier Frenzied Howler Monkey leading the pack.

A hush fell over the scene.

From head to tail, a line of blood appeared on the monkey—split cleanly in two by a single stroke. Its corpse collapsed to the ground.

“Qi Refinement at its peak—what terrifying power!”

Qin Ming stood in awe at Steward Gu’s thunderous display.

The arrival of the Spiritfeather Sect marked the end of the crisis. Steward Gu and his disciples quickly hunted down the remaining monkeys, leaving none alive. There would be no more beast attacks near the fields for some time.

“Who here cast the Beast-Repelling Art earlier?”

After the clean-up, Steward Gu boarded the spirit vessel. Before leaving, he turned back to ask the assembled crowd.

Qin Ming stood silent and motionless. In the cultivation world, he dared not reveal too much of his own ability. Caution was his watchword—unless necessary, he only revealed what he could control and nothing more.

“It was Fellow Daoist Qin. We owe him much,” Master Su spoke up in his stead.

“Oh? So Master Su was here as well?”

“In my anger, I failed to notice.” For once, a rare smile creased Steward Gu’s stern face.

“So, this is the spirit farmer who grew the Beast Fang Rice? Record this merit for him—this quarter’s spirit rice tax will be reduced by ten percent.”

Steward Gu narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Qin Ming, but found nothing out of the ordinary. He then turned to Du Haifu at his side and ordered coldly.

Du Haifu’s expression was more sour than if he’d swallowed dung, but he hastily replied, “Yes, yes, I’ll see to it.”

A ten percent reduction meant a ten percent cut from his own share…

“Master Su, the matter we discussed before still stands. If you change your mind, you’re welcome at the Spiritfeather Sect’s residence anytime.” Steward Gu addressed Master Su earnestly.

“I’m too used to my freedom, not fond of restrictions. Let me consider it further…”

“Very well—duty calls. I’ll take my leave.” With that, Steward Gu departed with his disciples to report back.

Qin Ming let out a long breath.

Surveying the hillside, ravaged by the monkey horde, he saw that only his own and a few other spirit farmers’ fields had survived unscathed. Three or four plots had lost more than half their crop.

More than a dozen spirit farmers on the mountain had died, victims of the monkeys’ sonic bewitchment, driven to kill each other.

Apart from Qin Ming and Master Su, the surviving spirit farmers were all wounded to some degree.

Gazing at the bodies scattered among the fields, an indescribable sensation welled up in Qin Ming’s heart.

Alas…

They were humble spirit farmers, toiling for their meager livelihoods, yet all their efforts could not withstand a sudden disaster.

If Master Su hadn’t recognized the beasts, he would likely have shared the fate of the others.

Wait—what about Old Cai?

A thought struck Qin Ming.

“Fellow Daoist Qin, we owe you our lives,” said Master Su, approaching with a kind smile. He produced a bottle of Qi Recovery Pills and handed it to Qin Ming.

Qin Ming hesitated a moment, then accepted the pills. Opening the jade bottle, he found five pills inside. He immediately took one, sat down, and began to meditate, restoring his spiritual power.

After a while, color returned to his pale face.

“Master Su, go ahead and collect the Scarlet Spirit Dew from the fields. I’ll go check on Old Cai,” he said, standing.

Without delay, Qin Ming hurried toward Old Cai’s plot.

What he didn’t expect was that halfway along the mountain path, he ran into Old Cai himself.

Old Cai was in a sorry state, covered in dirt and injuries, limping along with a stick he’d picked up from the roadside. As soon as he saw Qin Ming, hale and hearty, he nearly lost it.

“You can’t be serious! How are you perfectly fine?”

Old Cai had genuinely been worried for Qin Ming’s safety, but now he could hardly accept it.

“Old Cai, are you badly hurt?”

“Who knows where those damned monkeys came from. Glad you’re alright.”

Qin Ming was relieved to see the injuries were superficial.

“Alright? You call this alright?”

“Some bastard, bewitched by the monkeys, jabbed me in the backside with a hoe! Dammit! If I ever find out who it was—!”

Clutching his waist with one hand and leaning on a tree with the other, Old Cai grumbled, “But really, how did you get through unscathed? Are those monkeys your relatives or something? Couldn’t bring themselves to hurt you?”

Qin Ming sighed, exasperated. “It was just a coincidence—I ran into Master Su. If it hadn’t been for him, you’d probably be burning incense for me by now…”