Be My Dog

"Wrong, wrong, utterly wrong!"

The brass oil lamp was shouting inside Chen Huangpi’s heart, “I underestimated this evil god. I thought it was only searching for scapegoats, at most targeting those few deities. Who would have imagined it had its sights set on this temple, intending to seize it for itself? If it succeeds, things will get much worse.”

“What happens if it does succeed?”

“If it succeeds, it’ll remain in the human world, neither descending into the Netherworld nor being killed. Then, it will likely become the most dreadful Yellow Plague in these Hundred Thousand Mountains.”

Monsters are always known for their twisted ways.

Evil beings, though terrifying, only come out at night.

But if a disaster takes root, then it matters not if it is day or night.

The clay figures were already lifting the evil god’s idol, slowly rising from the fissure.

Yet, they were in no hurry.

Instead, they stood at ease, as if time was on their side.

They were calm, but there were those who were not.

Chen Huangpi saw the range of the four gods’ protection shrinking, now only covering the wooden temple, no longer vast as before.

It wasn’t that these deities couldn’t contend with the weasel evil god.

Rather, the upheaval of the earth and the rising yellow mud forced even deities to yield.

“Madam, how long do you intend to wait?” Granny Tang urged anxiously.

The Twelfth Madam remained clear-minded, “If I open the temple door now, I’ll hand it the opportunity to enter.”

“If you leave now, perhaps there is still a sliver of hope.”

“We can’t escape!” Granny Tang declared without hesitation, “It won’t let us go.”

The evil god’s aim was too direct. If the temple door stayed shut, none—not even the mountain god—could leave. And as the yellow mud spread, the mountain god would inevitably be corrupted.

The two evil gods could, of course, force their way in.

But if the door was opened—

Then it must have the power to occupy the wooden temple, and the deities within would be helpless.

Otherwise, why reveal its trump card?

Granny Tang saw through this, as did the Twelfth Madam.

Thus, though the two women seemed ready to clash, in truth, both were calm and restrained.

Granny Tang spoke again, “If our mountain god can enter, and the four deities hold the temple, perhaps we can resist a while longer. There’s still an hour till dawn—this is our only chance.”

The Twelfth Madam said nothing.

All the villagers and cultivators fell silent.

The villagers deferred to Granny Tang, for she served the mountain god.

The cultivators were the governor’s servants and would never make decisions for their master.

Only Chen Huangpi pondered the Dog-Taming Sutra.

The wooden temple was filled with silence.

Yet the three deities released halos only Chen Huangpi and the brass oil lamp could see, relieving the fox mountain god of some burden.

“That boy is not right—he seems able to see my true form.”

The mountain god’s voice suddenly rang in Granny Tang’s heart. She glanced at Chen Huangpi without a trace, shocked beyond measure.

This child could see the mountain god’s true form?

In a flash, a thought exploded in Granny Tang’s mind.

Earlier, she’d suspected the child was the evil entity, so she asked the mountain god to investigate. But the mountain god closed its eyes, refusing to respond no matter how she called.

At the time, Granny Tang felt something was off, wanting to drive the child away. But then the mountain god vouched for him, saying he was not the evil one, and since he was about the same age as her granddaughter, let him stay out of sentiment.

But now—

Granny Tang wondered if she’d made a mistake.

Chen Huangpi was oblivious to her turmoil.

He was busy reasoning with the brass oil lamp.

“Brassie, isn’t being my dog a good thing?”

“Good? Nonsense! That Dog-Taming Sutra of yours doesn’t sound like a proper technique at all. That soul-reaping ghost hasn’t devoured as much as the lamp oil I’ve burned. You believe it over me? You’re rotten to the core!”

“No way, Brassie. You’re my best friend.”

“Then teach me the Dog-Taming Sutra, and you become my dog. If you do, I’ll consider you a true friend!”

“You can’t master it.”

“How would you know unless you let me try? I’ve got hands, I’ve got feet, I could even grow meridians. You just want to boss me around, don’t you?”

“I never thought that!”

“Then teach me the Dog-Taming Sutra!”

Chen Huangpi had no choice. Unable to persuade the lamp, he recited the Dog-Taming Sutra in his mind.

“Huh, this technique is actually quite interesting.”

The brass oil lamp was surprised. It knew how this technique had come to be.

Those foolish dog-cultivators from the Forestry Bureau had signed their souls away with Chen Huangpi, failed to keep their end of the bargain, and after death, their souls landed in the Soul-Reaping Register. The Dog-Taming Sutra had been pieced together from their memories.

It was also one of the only two techniques Chen Huangpi could practice.

The other was the incomplete sword style called Demon-Slaying by Great Mars.

Yet, the lamp had always looked down on both, their origins too ancient, so it asked for the Dog-Taming Sutra half in jest, half to pass the time.

But upon seeing it—

The lamp found the technique was not as crude as it had thought.

“Wicked—utterly wicked!” The lamp shouted, “Chen Huangpi, you’ve truly stumbled onto a treasure! This must be a demonic beast-taming art devised by some madman before the world changed! All beasts may become your personal hounds. It’s just a pity…”

“A pity what?”

“A pity I’m not a beast—I’m a magical artifact. You want me as your dog? Impossible!”

“Then… what now?”

Chen Huangpi was flustered. Ever since he obtained the Dog-Taming Sutra, he’d felt its power. Combined with the lamp’s ability to protect him at night, together they should be invincible.

Now, his hopes were dashed.

He was at a loss.

“What now?” The lamp said smugly, “Simple. I’ll master the Dog-Taming Sutra. You’re not ordinary—after all, even the true fire of the observatory’s furnace can’t burn you. If you become my dog and let me command you, what can a mere evil god do to us?”

“No, no way.” Chen Huangpi immediately refused, “I’m a man—how could I be your dog?”

“Humans are beasts too—two-legged ones. Of course you can be a dog.”

In truth, the lamp was lying.

Though it was a magical tool, it had intelligence, hands, and feet—a kind of living thing.

But how could it ever be Chen Huangpi’s dog?

If they ever escaped these Hundred Thousand Mountains and ran into old acquaintances, it would be a laughingstock.

“But—”

“No more buts! I, Brassie, swear to the heavens—even if you become my dog, you and I will still be the best of friends!”

“I…”

Chen Huangpi was deeply troubled. He was meant to inherit the Pure Immortal Abbey.

Brassie, in theory, belonged to the Abbey as well.

If he became Brassie’s dog, he’d never be able to hold his head up again.

As if reading his thoughts, the lamp consoled, “I see here in the Dog-Taming Sutra a way to break the bond. So long as we both agree, we can separate at once. You know me—I’d certainly agree. No one would ever know you were once my dog.”

Chen Huangpi hesitated for a moment, then sighed, “It seems there’s no other way.”

The lamp exclaimed, “Right before dawn, that evil god will surely make its move. While there’s time, help me train in the Dog-Taming Sutra. Don’t hesitate—this is a matter of life and death.”

“Don’t worry, Brassie. I’ll help you.”

Having made up his mind, Chen Huangpi sat cross-legged in front of the wooden temple and began cultivating the Dog-Taming Sutra.

The brass oil lamp hung at his waist—though there was no visible change, inside, it had already grown meridians and a dantian.

One man, one lamp.

Thus, they began practicing the Dog-Taming Sutra.

Gradually, the brass oil lamp felt something like a connection forming between itself and Chen Huangpi.

Moreover, it seemed to notice something odd about him.

“Hey, what’s with your kidneys? They’re as strong as iron!”

“And that vital energy—how does it cycle endlessly, producing itself without you initiating it, inexhaustible and alive?”

“My master said the Five-Organs Spirit Refining Method works this way.”

Chen Huangpi replied in his heart. At this moment, he too felt the lamp’s extraordinary nature.

And more.

“So Brassie really is powerful—just split into thousands of fragments, that’s why it’s so weak.”

For as long as he could remember, the brass lamp had been like this.

He’d once asked his master why it had to be this way, but his master said it brought it upon itself, and forbade it from gathering its fragments.

This rule was as ironclad as any law.

Not even now, in such a crisis, did Brassie consider breaking it.

Chen Huangpi sat in meditation, cultivating.

Granny Tang noticed, but she had no mind to care about him now.

For dawn was near—so near that a faint silver line could already be seen at the edge of the sky.

Morning was coming.

Granny Tang knew it. The Twelfth Madam knew it.

So did the cultivators and villagers present.

And most of all, the evil god and its clay servants knew it.

“Granny, dawn is almost here. We can’t delay any longer. If we miss the time, the mountain god can’t enter the temple—it’ll be furious.”

“Granny, when you abandoned the mountain god, I stayed with it. The yellow mud buried me, I could hardly breathe, my whole body felt like it was rotting. But I don’t blame you, and neither does the mountain god. Now the mountain god wants me to ask you—”

“This temple door—will you open it, or not?”

The mud-girl’s voice was as sweet as ever.

Granny Tang sighed, gazing coldly at her granddaughter—no, that was no granddaughter, only an evil spirit.

“Madam, it’s time,” she said.

As soon as the words fell, the wooden temple doors burst open.

The Twelfth Madam still wore her old attire, half her face veiled in black gauze.

Behind her stood three deities, each thirty feet tall, their divine bodies massive, their eyes blazing with anger.

“A mere wild fox dares covet a temple of the gods? Death is too kind!”

The Twelfth Madam gripped a long sword, her gaze murderous.

Granny Tang was no different—her staff struck the ground as she roared,

“Let the mountain god descend!”

In the next instant, a wraith stepped down from the fox idol and entered Granny Tang.

The mud-girl sighed, “Mortals always overthink, always have to fight. Why bother?”

Before the words faded, the mudmen carrying the weasel idol stepped forward.

At once, torrents of yellow mud, boiling and roiling, surged toward the crowd, toward the temple, engulfing all.

Chen Huangpi opened his eyes just in time to see it.

“Brassie, are you ready?”

“Chen Huangpi! Who are you calling Brassie? Transform!”

And with that, the brass oil lamp flew from his waist, its body elongating, sprouting four paws and a tail. Its dog’s head, with eyes like burning wicks, flickered between confusion and astonishment.