The land stretching from the foot of Mount Cang to the lakeside had a slight incline, but it was so minimal it could almost be ignored. The terrain was overall very flat. Apart from a few fishing villages near the lake and some villages near the city, there were few houses. Occasionally, a tall tree might stand alone as part of the landscape, but there were hardly any forests to block one’s view. You could see a great distance in a single glance. A caravan of merchants was slowly making its way across this plain. Knowing that strange demons and ghosts had recently been appearing in the area even in broad daylight, they had removed all the bells from their horses and mules to avoid making noise. The weather near the lake was unpredictable. Clouds drifted low, as if just a few dozen feet overhead, carried swiftly by the wind. One moment the sun might shine directly down, and the next, shadows would fall across the land. Light and shadow seemed to be locked in a fierce battle across the earth and lake, tangled and inseparable. “Everyone remember, if you encounter the headless monster, don’t panic, and don’t run. If you flee, your fate will be uncertain. Wait for him to speak. When he asks whether his head is still on his neck, you must say it is.” This wasn’t the caravan’s first journey here. They were familiar with the Headless Monk, a figure of local legend stretching back hundreds of years who had recently reappeared. Still, they couldn’t help repeating the warning. Everyone nodded in agreement. But as they walked, they suddenly heard something up ahead. Everyone immediately grew alert and stopped in their tracks, eyes flickering with hesitation as they listened closely. Most of the noise sounded like thud-thud-thud, rumble-rumble, and at times like heavy footsteps, louder even than the clatter of iron-hooved cavalry. Sometimes it resembled war drums, but without the steady rhythm. Sometimes it sounded like metal and stone colliding, but with a deafening intensity. At other times, it resembled thunder, but it wasn’t coming from the sky. “What is that sound?” “Could it be a monster?” They all lowered their voices, filled with panic. In these unstable times, demons and ghosts had grown more common. Still, it was daytime, and this was a major trade route. Most creatures of the dark wouldn't dare appear here at such a time and place. The only one who would and could was the Headless Monk. Even when the government had brought in experts and deployed troops, they’d had no solution for him. That Headless Monk had become a figure to stop children from crying at night. The leader of the caravan crouched low, glancing around. The sunlight bathed everything in a golden glow. The meadow grass swayed in the wind. He looked up at the sky, though the sun was already sinking westward, it was still blindingly bright. But ahead lay a great mass of dark clouds. That stretch of land in the distance was clearly shrouded in shadow. The stronger the sunlight, the darker the shade. The caravan leader looked worried and murmured, “I fear someone up ahead may have run into that monster...” At the same time, a bold young man in the group had already moved to the side of the road and begun climbing an elm tree nearby. He cautiously poked his head out to peer into the distance. Traveling merchants often faced danger. This young man was both brave and observant, with sharp eyes. Many times before, it had been thanks to him spotting bandits, demons, or other threats that the caravan was able to take a detour and avoid trouble. So when they saw him climbing the tree, no one stopped him; in fact, all eyes were on him. Suddenly, the young man’s eyes widened. After a while, he quietly climbed down, eyes filled with shock and disbelief, and said to the others that the clouds ahead had indeed blocked out the sun, and in that patch of wasteland, he’d seen the Headless Monk. The monk looked like a towering, powerful guardian deity from a temple. He was immense and imposing, but without a head. What shocked him even more was that there were two other stone giants, each over a zhang tall, faintly glowing with golden light. They were engaged in a fierce battle with the Headless Monk in the wasteland. The fight was intense, and the scene was overwhelming, and the grasses and trees were smashed to pieces. The young man was stunned and terrified by what he saw. Everyone was shocked by his report. Some followed his example and climbed up the tree to see for themselves, returning just as awestruck. Others were too curious to resist, but either couldn’t climb or didn’t dare look. “Stone giants? Could they be Mountain Gods?” “They’re all golden, they must be some kind of celestial being.” “Maybe even arhats from the Western Paradise descended to the mortal world.” Despite their fear and astonishment, they began whispering among themselves, debating whether they should turn back or take a side path to circle around. Just as they’d made up their minds to turn around and head toward a small uphill path to bypass the area ahead, the noise from up front suddenly stopped. “Was the monster vanquished? Did the gods win?” The caravan leader scolded in a low voice and hurriedly led the group back the way they came. But they hadn’t expected the sudden shift in wind and clouds, the fleeting interplay of light and shadow. Mere mortals could not outpace the grand movements of nature. Even walking along a road, one could never be faster than the changing winds and drifting clouds. Unnoticed, a mass of cloud had been blown directly overhead, casting a swath of shadow over them. Just a moment ago, they had been walking in blazing, dazzling sunlight. Now it went dark in an instant. Their eyes couldn’t adjust in time, and it felt as though everything had gone black, and the sudden dimness sparked fear in their hearts. It was already late autumn. The warmth of the sun was the only thing keeping away the chill. Even while traveling, they’d been sweating a little from the heat. But now that the sunlight had vanished, the temperature dropped sharply, and everyone felt a shiver both on their skin and in their bones. “Remember, if it appears, don’t run. And don’t let fear render you speechless. Every single one of you must answer, ‘It’s still there.’” The caravan leader was alert and responsible. He lowered his voice, as if afraid of drawing the attention of some terrifying being, which only made the others more afraid. And almost as soon as the words left his mouth, a noise stirred beside them. The reeds rustled, and someone was moving through them. Everyone froze, silent as stone. Then, a foul, fishy stench drifted in on the wind. And then, the thing they had feared finally happened. A tall, powerfully built, Headless Monk emerged before them, draped in ragged, filthy cloth. His robes were in tatters, barely more than shredded rags, caked with mud and tangled with reeds. Though he had no head, he stood taller than any man. His arms were thicker than the waists of many well-fed adults, and stained black from dried blood. There was no telling how many he'd killed with those fists, each one the size of a human head. They were clenched tight, riddled with wounds, embedded with bits of stone, coated with foul-smelling black blood and rotting flesh. His muscles bulged grotesquely, arms hanging naturally at his sides but too thick to draw close to his body. The pressure he exuded was far more oppressive than any guardian deity statue found in a temple. The monk moved slowly, as if wandering aimlessly, yet his steps carried him straight to the path ahead of them. In the middle of his abdomen was a hole that was part wound, part mouth. And just like in the legends, the mouth began to speak, “Have you seen a cat?” “It's still there! It's still there!” The group answered in a panicked chorus, voices overlapping. Then, all of a sudden, they froze with their eyes wide in shock. This wasn’t like the legends at all! The Headless Monk parted the reeds and slowly moved on. Only then did the group dare to exhale, their nerves still frayed as they glanced at one another in confusion. Just then, from the reeds on the other side came another soft rustling sound. The travelers jumped in fright, only to see a little girl walk out from among the reeds. She looked up at them with a pair of clear, bright eyes. After confirming that they posed no threat, she seemed to relax a little and softly said, “You’re all very smart.” No one dared to respond. They didn’t know what to say. The little girl pointed up at the sky, then down the road ahead, and without another word, turned and slipped back into the reeds. The merchants looked at each other once again, dumbfounded. The caravan leader looked up, then lowered his gaze. He looked first at the clouds above, then at the road ahead, and finally realized that the wind was blowing from the front, pushing those thick, heavy clouds behind them. The road ahead was being bathed in more and more sunlight. Only then did he understand that the little girl had been reminding them, don’t go back, keep moving forward, the sun is ahead. This must be a celestial child sent from the heavens. So thinking, the caravan leader decisively turned around and continued forward. “Today was too close for comfort. Let’s stop for the day and rest for the night in Xianning City,” the caravan leader added with a sigh. “This road is really getting dangerous.” “Things have really been chaotic by the lakeside lately,” the innkeeper said to Song You. “Several groups of traveling merchants and people passing through the wastelands all said they saw that Headless Monk fighting with a Mountain God. Just in the past half month there have already been four or five sightings from what I’ve heard. They were all terrified, but they described what they saw similarly. I don’t think they were making it up, they definitely saw it with their own eyes.” The innkeeper was a bit slow-witted, but Song You had been staying here for over half a month. By now, the man had picked up on enough details to realize that this Daoist was likely not an ordinary person. And not just the Daoist, his cat and the little girl weren’t simple either. At first, the innkeeper had been a little scared. But over time, as he saw how easygoing they all were, he let his guard down. All the fear and caution eventually turned into respect. So when it came to strange tales of demons and ghosts, he naturally wanted to share them with Song You. “When folks first started talking about it a couple weeks back, some said they saw two Mountain Gods, some said three or four. But none of them could beat that headless monster monk. They said the Mountain Gods were just made of ordinary stone. But just a few days ago, people on the street were saying fishermen out on the lake had seen them fighting again, and this time, the Mountain God could hold his own. Isn’t that amazing?” The Daoist nodded at once after hearing this. “Amazing indeed.” This area was relatively open, with mostly low buildings, so visibility stretched far. With Lady Calico fighting the Headless Monk out there every day, it was inevitable that people would witness it. The Headless Monk had been part of ghost stories passed down in Xianning for hundreds of years, and since his reappearance in recent years, he had become well-known and widely feared. Now, with a “Mountain God“ battling him and having been seen by many people over the course of just half a month, it naturally caused a stir and became a hot topic of discussion. Everyone hoped that the Mountain God would one day destroy the monk. Over the past half month, Song You continued to go out wandering each day, becoming increasingly familiar with the streets and alleys of Xianning City. He also frequently heard talk of the Mountain God and the demon monk battling outside the city. He’d hear it once while out and about, and then again when he got back to his room. He was becoming somewhat numb to it all. And yet he still had to feign interest, especially after returning home. Just as he was thinking this, he heard the sound of horse hooves outside the door. The jujube-red horse didn’t wear horseshoes, so its hooves striking the stone pavement made a sound noticeably different from ordinary hoofbeats. Thus, it was easy to recognize. The hoofbeats continued past the door, heading toward the side stable. There was a swallow flying outside. Not long after, a small figure appeared at the doorway dressed in three-colored robes. She had a conical hat and the swallow’s short sword slung across her back, as well as a dripping-wet shoulder bag hanging from one arm which was full of fish. The braid at the back of her head had come slightly loose, a few strands of hair stuck messily to her face with sweat. She looked quite like a miniature wandering swordswoman, having returned from fishing to trade her catch for wine. A miniature version, of course. “Lady Calico is back again?” the innkeeper was the first to speak. “Caught a few more fish today? I’ll pay market price as usual.” “All big fish today.” The innkeeper quickly went to greet her and opened the bag for a look. Not only were they big, they were all fine fish. The deal was quickly concluded. Lady Calico kept one fish, asking the innkeeper to help keep it alive so she could cook it for dinner. She was very diligent, and she even washed the bag and hung it out back to dry before heading upstairs to tell her Daoist priest, “I’m almost able to fight that monk to a draw now!” “It was your Mountain God who fought the monk. And you haven’t even used your little flag yet, so you’re even stronger than the Mountain God,” Song You corrected her. “Oh, right! It’s my Mountain God!” “Has your Boulder Transformation already advanced to the point where the entire stone giant can be transformed into gold?” “No, not yet. I can only transform half of it, and even then I have to cast the spell several times to do that.” “But I heard from people outside that some of them saw your Mountain God fighting the demon monk, and they said the Mountain God was completely golden.” “Then it must mean you’re almost there.” With a whoosh, Lady Calico turned back into a cat and continued, “But when I fought that monk today, he was really strong. No matter what I did, I just couldn’t kill him. I summoned the Mountain God several times, but he kept getting smashed apart bit by bit. I also used the Boulder Transformation multiple times and ran out of magical power, but I still couldn’t kill him. In the end, I had no choice but to run away.” As she spoke, she looked toward the Daoist, clearly seeking guidance. “Needing to summon the Mountain God several times means the Mountain God still isn’t strong enough. Having to cast the Boulder Transformation again and again means it’s not durable enough yet, and that it’s neither long-lasting nor hard enough,” Song You said calmly. “Lady Calico, you still need more practice.” “Practice!” The cat's expression turned serious, full of determination.