Zhao Fengnian plays tricks on Ning Yan and her companion.

Ning Caichen's face had turned from pale to deathly white, and his teeth began to chatter. He glanced at the pitch-black night outside the window, then at the book box beside his bed, his voice trembling uncontrollably: "Then... what do we do? Run away secretly now?"

"I'm definitely going to run. But you have to promise me one thing first." Yan Chixia's expression became more serious than ever before.

"I originally wanted to take action directly, but that great demon is still in the meditation room in the backyard. Although he might not react immediately with the door closed, I have to prepare for the worst. I'll hold him off while you take the three children and run away in the chaos. They are innocent, and since I've stumbled upon them, I can't just abandon them."

Ning Caichen's eyes widened, his lips trembled, and after a long while, he managed to squeeze out, "I... I'm just a scholar, I can't lift anything heavy..."

"You don't need to carry it." Yan Chixia grabbed his hand tightly, so hard that Ning Caichen gasped in pain. "You just need to hold their hands, run out of this mountain gate, run downhill, run towards Jinhua City, run towards the City God Temple. I know the temple keeper there; we'll be safe once we get there. Can you do that?"

Ning Caichen remained silent for a long time, then gritted his teeth and nodded forcefully.

......

"It's a pity Yan Chixia isn't a detective with such deductive reasoning skills. Clues gathered: Sanyi Temple has no ordination certificate, doesn't worship gods, takes demons as disciples, has dragon aura, and can't see through the abbot. Conclusion: Demon's lair. Perfect logic, all evidence is wrong."

"Liu Jin was just too lazy to go to the government office to complete the formalities, but in his mouth it became ironclad evidence of the demon's den. Zhao Fengnian: We just forgot to apply for a business license."

"They don't worship gods, they only worship heaven and earth. Yan Chixia: That's a cult! Liu Jin: I just don't want to worship the gods of this world, is there a problem with that?"

"The deer is radiating spiritual light, and the crow can talk—they really are monsters!" Yan Chixia: "Monsters! The evidence is irrefutable!"

"The most brilliant part was his analysis of Zhao Fengnian: 'If he has scales on his hands, he's either a demon or practices demonic arts.' Zhao Fengnian: 'I call this the Dragon Transformation Technique, a legitimate Xuanmen (mystical) skill, personally bestowed upon me by the City God.' Yan Chixia: 'I won't listen! I won't listen!'"

"The three children are well-behaved and don't cry or fuss. They just got their new names and are still happy about it. Yan Chixia: They've been bewitched. Li Zhitui, Li Zhiruo, Li Zhiwei: Is it wrong for us to be obedient?"

Liu Jin: I didn't do anything, I was writing notes in the meditation room. Yan Chixia: A thousand-year-old demon, unfathomable. Liu Jin: ...Alright.

Yan Chixia: I'll hold off the great demon, you take the children and run. Zhao Fengnian (pretending not to hear, but secretly laughing his head off): Okay, okay, good luck.

......

The next morning, the rain that had been falling for several days finally stopped. Raindrops were still dripping from the pine needles, the bluestone slabs in the courtyard were washed clean by the rain, and the air was filled with the smell of damp earth and pine resin.

Yan Chixia untied the animal hide from the longsword, revealing a broad-bladed heavy sword covered with densely packed demon-slaying runes. A dark red bead was inlaid at the hilt, faintly glowing with blood.

He placed his sword beside him, sat imposingly on the porch, and stared intently at the closed wooden door of the meditation room in the backyard, waiting for the figure in the moon-white gauze dress to emerge from behind the door.

Old Chen was drawing water from the well. Seeing Yan Chixia's tense posture, he was a little puzzled but didn't ask any questions. He simply shook his head and continued drawing water. A crow flew down from the eaves and landed on the well's edge, about to drink from the bucket, when Yan Chixia suddenly sprang up, pointing his sword at the crow on the well's edge. A loud shout shook the raindrops falling from the pine branches: "Monster, take this! Heaven and Earth are boundless, the universe borrows its power, swiftly!"

The flying sword flew from his hand, transforming into a crimson sword light, wrapped in the golden light of demon-slaying runes, and slashed straight at the crow on the well's edge. The crow saw the approaching sword light reflected in its beady black eyes, and suddenly a layer of pale golden flames rose from its body. It was the seed of the Fire-Gathering Scripture, which had taken shape after absorbing the essence of many days.

The moment the flame exploded, its body suddenly rose higher, like a pale golden arrow that brushed past the sword light and shot straight into the sky, drawing an extremely thin golden line in the air.

The flying sword missed its target, leaving a shallow white mark on the well's edge before returning to Yan Chixia's hand. Wu Jian circled twice in the sky, then shouted down in a voice as thin as sandpaper, "What are you doing! I just wanted a drink of water!"

Yan Chixia was taken aback. The crow wasn't frightened by the demon-slaying talisman; instead, it flew faster than his flying sword. Just as he was about to make a hand seal to strike again, the kitchen door creaked open.

Zhao Fengnian leaned against the doorframe, holding a bowl of hot porridge. He blew on the steam rising from the porridge, took a sip, and then spoke slowly, "Master Yan, this is not right. Our Sanyi Temple kindly invited you in to rest and take shelter from the rain, offering you a room free of charge. And yet, you get up early this morning to kill the creatures of our temple. If word gets out, who will dare to invite a martial artist to rest?"

"Shut up! You wicked devil, how dare you talk to me about good intentions?" Yan Chixia's beard and hair stood on end, and he turned his sword to point at Zhao Fengnian.

"You think I can't see through you? You have scales on your hands and dragon aura on your body; you're either a demon or a practitioner of demonic magic! And those three children, you must have abducted them to the mountain to be your food! Today, I, Yan, will risk my life to uphold justice!"

Before he finished speaking, the sword flashed. It was faster and more powerful than the one he had used to slash at the crow. All the demon-slaying runes on the sword lit up, and the entire sword burned into a fire dragon, slashing straight at Zhao Fengnian's face. The playful expression on Zhao Fengnian's face vanished. He sighed and put the bowl of porridge on the stove with his left hand.

Then he opened his right hand.

The hand suddenly transformed in the morning light, its five fingers turning into dragon claws, each fingertip covered with dark blue scales, between which water and fire shimmered and flowed, the Water Flowing Technique and the Samadhi Essence Fire completely merging within the dragon-transformed body.

His body expanded and grew taller in an instant, and a pair of wing-like scales on his back suddenly unfolded. The wing bones were a pure dragon spine structure, and the wing membranes were woven from countless tiny fire-colored scales, which shimmered with a blend of water and fire in the morning light.

Arms, shoulders, back, legs—every inch of his skin was covered in dragon scales, arranged neatly, with a ring of extremely pale blue flames around the edges.

The dragon's claws opened, grabbing the flying sword that was slashing towards it. The demon-slaying runes on the sword flashed wildly, and golden demon-subduing power and the bloodthirsty aura at the tip of the sword erupted simultaneously, slamming heavily into the dragon's claws.

But the dragon claw remained motionless. The water on its claw extinguished the bloodlust, and the fire melted the golden light. The two forces swirled and flowed within a small space, locking the flying sword in place. The crimson sword trembled with a mournful cry under the combined attack of water and fire. The dark red bead at the hilt throbbed violently a few times before falling silent.