Has the temple master risen from the dead?

Marvelous...

Absolutely marvelous!

The brass oil lamp watched intently, nearly clapping for Silver Horn, but instead said, “Hey, Chen Huangpi, since they’re asking so nicely, why not just teach them?”

It sounded as if it were being forced against its will.

Gold Horn and Silver Horn suppressed their anger.

They found this brass lamp incredibly disagreeable.

First, it had tried to stop Chen Huangpi from giving his family any benefits.

Then, it sowed discord.

And after Chen Huangpi had finally convinced it, it started making excuses about aptitude.

It was simply too much!

Once they mastered the Heavenly Art, they would be sure to give this brass lamp a piece of their mind.

Otherwise, how could they live up to Chen Huangpi’s good intentions?

Seeing the eager looks on their faces, Chen Huangpi hurried forward and said, “Clear your minds. I’ll impart the Heavenly Art to you now. Practice diligently and master it before dawn.”

“Don’t worry, Father Huangpi!”

“We’re the sons of Di Ting, after all. No matter how profound the Heavenly Art, we can master it.”

This was no idle boast.

Gold Horn and Silver Horn were indeed the offspring of Di Ting.

They roamed the underworld, favored by the lands of shadow just as Chen Huangpi was favored by the Great Ten Thousand Mountains.

Mastering the Heavenly Art would be a simple task.

“Wait, this Heavenly Art...”

Gold Horn pondered over the art in his mind, sensing something off—a faintly odd aura.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was certainly strange.

“Ah!” Silver Horn exclaimed in delight, “Big Brother, I’ve already grasped the basics!”

“You…” Gold Horn’s eight eyes widened in disbelief. “How did you learn it so quickly?”

“Obviously because I’m talented—it just came naturally!” Silver Horn said smugly. “Big Brother, don’t tell me you haven’t even entered the basics? After all those years guarding the Sutra Library, if you can’t even get started with the Heavenly Art, maybe I should be the elder brother from now on!”

Gold Horn ignored his silly brother and turned to Chen Huangpi, asking, “Father Huangpi, is there something wrong with this Heavenly Art?”

“What could be wrong?” Chen Huangpi replied, his expression unchanged, though both he and the brass oil lamp secretly exchanged nervous glances.

“Could Gold Horn have noticed something?”

“Hard to say. He’s not a fool, and his nose is sharp.”

Just then, Gold Horn suddenly said, “If my sense is correct, the Heavenly Art you taught us isn’t complete, is it?”

The Heavenly Art was, in fact, the Dog-Rearing Sutra.

How could Chen Huangpi possibly give them the full version?

Even the lower volume, the Dog’s Path, had many things left out.

Chen Huangpi smiled and said, “Gold Horn, I didn’t expect you to notice. Indeed, I’ve only taught you the first five levels. Once you’ve mastered those, I’ll teach you the rest.”

“But—”

“No buts!” the brass oil lamp shouted angrily. “Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘Arts must not be lightly passed on’? Even among family, there are those more worthy than others! Look at you—hesitating when Chen Huangpi is trying to help you. Meanwhile, Silver Horn… Wait, he’s already mastered it?”

“Hahaha!” Silver Horn laughed heartily, feeling utterly pleased. “Who would have thought, I’m so gifted! The Heavenly Art feels tailor-made for me. Big Brother, you’re just stalling because you can’t master it, aren’t you?”

Gold Horn was furious. “I haven’t even started! If you can master it, how could I not? Watch me!”

Fuming, Gold Horn began to practice the Heavenly Art.

Within moments, he was astonished.

“I’ve mastered the basics already?”

“Hold on, I’ve mastered it too?”

Gold Horn and Silver Horn looked at each other in disbelief.

“Father Huangpi, are we both geniuses?”

Their father, however, only smiled with satisfaction.

“Brass Lamp, you choose.”

“No need to choose! Let’s start with the elder—he insulted me the most just now!”

The brass oil lamp snickered coldly.

“Not appropriate,” Chen Huangpi replied. “That would be unfair. If I have disciples in the future, people will say I’m biased.”

As the conversation went on, Gold Horn and Silver Horn sensed that something was wrong.

Chen Huangpi then took out a copper coin and said, “Perfect—one side heads, one tails. Whichever side lands up, that’s the one.”

At these words, Gold Horn and Silver Horn realized they’d been duped.

So much for family and benefits—this had all been a set-up.

It was meant for them from the start.

“Roar!” Gold Horn roared furiously, his body swelling. “You little trickster, and you, you wretched lamp! I’ll eat you both!”

Silver Horn was even angrier: “Kill!”

But the next instant, they realized in terror that the Heavenly Art they had just mastered was suddenly running wild inside them.

It was as if another will was driving it—a will more powerful than their own.

Their bodies were controlled by this will, as if they had become someone else’s puppets.

“What kind of evil art did you teach us?”

“The Dog-Rearing Sutra is not an evil art!”

...

Elsewhere, beneath a blood-red moon, the Ten Thousand Mountains were eerily silent.

The air was cold.

Autumn was coming.

Even the wind was chilly.

The Fox Mountain God curled up by the entrance to the Pure Immortal Temple’s main hall, glancing up at the red moon.

It was full.

In the past, the Fox Mountain God would howl at the moon at times like these. Though made of clay, it still retained the instincts of a fox.

But now, forget howling—he dared not even make a sound.

Ever since Chen Huangpi entered the old temple, the Fox Mountain God had been stationed at the entrance, watching over the abbot’s corpse to keep it from being pecked by birds or eaten by insects.

“There are no birds or insects in this accursed Pure Immortal Temple…” the Fox Mountain God lamented inwardly. “Chen Huangpi always finds ways to torment me. He knows I’m reasonable—if it were Huang Calamity instead, he’d never be so obedient.”

Huang Calamity had once been the Weasel Mountain God, summoned alongside him by Xu Qingshan.

At that moment, the Fox Mountain God glanced at the abbot’s corpse, feeling a wave of nervousness and confusion.

“Is it just my imagination, or did the abbot move just now?”

No, it wasn’t his imagination. Earlier in the day, he, the brass oil lamp, and the Death Summoner had all kept watch over the abbot for ages—so long they were exhausted—yet nobody noticed when the abbot began growing a third head.

If he felt it move, then it must have moved.

At this thought, the Fox Mountain God’s heart began to race.

For the first time, he realized that the phrase “heart pounding like a drum” was not an exaggeration.

“Is the abbot about to become a zombie?” a blasphemous thought flashed through his mind.

His fur stood on end, his body trembling.

But no matter how long he waited or how much he stared, the abbot never moved.

It was just a lifeless, undecaying corpse.

“Abbot, please show mercy,” the Fox Mountain God pleaded, kowtowing before the corpse. “I am but a little fox. You promised Chen Huangpi you wouldn’t eat me. If you wish to take something, take as much as you want—just let me keep my fox… or at least my dog life.”

Just then—

The abbot’s two heads suddenly shifted, each moving aside as if making room for a third to emerge.

The Fox Mountain God’s heart pounded wildly.

His eyes rolled back, his legs stiffened, and his body went limp.

The mighty mountain god had fainted dead away in terror.

Within the main hall, an eerie atmosphere reigned.

Three portraits of Daoist priests hung upon the wall, and below them sat a shrine table—though instead of offerings, it held two avatars of the brass oil lamp.

The flames flickered dimly.

Crack… crack…

Several bones pushed their way between the abbot’s two heads.

Had the Fox Mountain God not fainted, he would have seen that these were neck bones, with flesh and sinew slowly forming around them.

The third head was truly growing.

...

Back at the Sutra Library’s entrance in the old temple, Gold Horn and Silver Horn wore pained, bitter smiles.

“Chen Huangpi, you villain! You’ll die a terrible death. If you have any guts, face us head-on instead of using tricks.”

“Big Brother, it’s no use. He’s young, but he’s cunning. We can’t outplay him.”

Hearing this, Chen Huangpi shook his head. “You misunderstand me. True, I played a trick and passed off the Dog-Rearing Sutra as the Heavenly Art, but it’s all to help you escape and reach the Underworld.”

“If a single word of this is false, may I never grow up.”

“As if I’d believe you!”

“But Big Brother, he swore an oath. Last time, after he swore, he didn’t lie to us.”

Silver Horn turned to Chen Huangpi. “I believe you. But if you’re taking us with you, why decide with a coin toss? Can only one of us go?”

“Exactly,” Chen Huangpi replied, recalling the words of the Death Summoner. “You are the sons of Di Ting, beloved of the Underworld. Once there, you might find ways to break free from the Dog-Rearing Sutra. So, I will only take one of you—the other stays here as collateral. If either harbors any treachery, the one left behind will never see the Underworld again.”

“So that’s how it is!”

Gold Horn and Silver Horn suddenly understood. Their gazes at each other changed at once.

“Little Brother…”

“Big Brother…”

In silence, everything was said.

The next moment, Gold Horn protested, “That’s not fair! I’m clever and obedient. Obviously, you should choose me.”

Silver Horn quickly argued, “Father Huangpi, I’m foolish and naive, but I mean no harm. With your wits, you can easily control me. I’m the safest choice!”

Chen Huangpi was in no mood for their bickering.

He tossed the coin.

It landed heads—Gold Horn.

“Hahaha!” Gold Horn burst out laughing, rolling on the ground in delight. “I can return to the Underworld! I’ll drink and feast to my heart’s content. Silver Horn, you stay here as collateral. When my business is done, we’ll meet again below.”

Silver Horn protested in vain. “Unfair! It’s rigged! I demand a re-toss!”

“No, once it’s decided, the chosen one dies first. When I’m done with my task, I’ll come back for you.”

As he spoke, Chen Huangpi produced a sword-shaped withered branch, and a deadly, ashen sword aura gathered.

Gold Horn and Silver Horn were dumbstruck at the murderous intent on Chen Huangpi’s face.

“Little Brother, you said it was rigged. Here, take my place. You miss home, don’t you? Go back and have a look.”

“No, I don’t want to! Not at all!”

“Aaah!”

Gold Horn screamed as a streak of ashen sword energy sliced through his neck.

A head rolled to the ground.

There’s another chapter, but it’s not finished yet. It’ll probably be posted this afternoon.

Tonight, they will leave the old temple.

(The chapter ends.)