Beginning with the Ubume Bird-Chapter 369 - 6 Meeting of the Hundred Demons Hall

Chapter 369: Chapter 6 Meeting of the Hundred Demons Hall

Chapter 369: Chapter 6 Meeting of the Hundred Demons Hall

Five Blessings Tower, the largest tavern in Guangning Guard, featured a three-story red lacquered building adorned with carved designs, its entrance graced by round lanterns bearing couplets — one line reading “Where will you lodge at dusk, my lord”, the other “Come dawn, I shall not stay”.

On the whitewashed bamboo walls were a variety of decorative murals. The ground floor housed a stage for operatic performances, while the third-floor corridor invited guests to linger and watch. The second and third floors were furnished with endless rows of octagonal tables, and around the corner were the lodgings.

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It could not really be called luxurious, but it had a unique folk charm.

It was this Five Blessings Tower that Cha Xiaodao chose for his lodging.

By this time, the night had deepened. The shopkeeper, waiters, and guests had all retired to their rooms to sleep. Cha Xiaodao was also in his guest room.

He was having a conversation with Li Yan when a faint sweet scent wafted into his nostrils. Instantly on alert, he soon felt a slight dizziness overtaking him.

Cha Xiaodao quickly retrieved a black persimmon cake from his personal mark and chewed it up, swallowing it down in two bites.

[Culinary Skill: Persimmon Cake]: A prepared persimmon cake that can be made in advance, quelling inner fire and neutralizing common poisons.

As the taste of sweet and tart spread in his mouth, Cha Xiaodao’s mind cleared.

Thump~ Thump~ Thump~

The melodious sound of the night watch carried far into the distance.

Following the sound, the noise of people talking and footsteps surged like a tide, whooshing forth!

It was as if the dead of night had turned into the bustling noon.

Strangely enough, such a ruckus should have woken the guests by now. By all logic, doors should be opening, complaints should be made, and yet Cha Xiaodao heard not a single sound, deducing that the earlier sweet scent had felled everyone from the owner to the porters and guests.

The footsteps and clamor approached Cha Xiaodao.

The shadow of a man knocking the watch gong was cast on the window before Cha Xiaodao’s room, but it merely passed by, step by step walking away, seemingly heading downstairs. A large group of people followed.

Shortly after, another ostentatiously shaped silhouette glided down the corridor, leaving a round, bulging shadow on the paper window. This shadow, too, did not notice Cha Xiaodao and descended the stairs.

The round shadow was over a meter long and clearly not human. And that was not all; after the round shape moved on, a bouncing ball-like shadow followed, casting its image on the window paper. This “ball” darted by so swiftly it was gone in a flash.

Cha Xiaodao’s eyes darted to the side as he picked up the oil lamp and silently made his way to the door. The moon shone brightly as he vaguely outlined the figures passing in front of his door.

Behind them was a beautiful woman with a graceful walk, followed by several frolicking children.

A hunchbacked figure, always coughing, passed by, followed by a foolishly grinning stout man.

Then came a Pig-Mouthed Taoist, a Buddhist statue, and a square-faced Yaksha woman, among other odd and eccentric characters.

With so many people, a variety of conversations drifted into Cha Xiaodao’s ears.

“If you ask me, just gang up and do it! That evil monk Er Jianlian didn’t show up! Just nab that officer and be done with it!”

“Not likely, Er Jianlian isn’t that rash.”

“Forget idle chatter, let’s drink.”

“The one up front with the White Fox-Faced, he’s quite a looker, isn’t he? Anyone know him, care to introduce him to me?”

“Hey! Which unlucky child is that, shut your mouth!”

…

After the commotion, the last to pass was an indistinct, black hulking shape. After that shape departed, Cha Xiaodao waited quite a while, yet no more figures passed by.

Cha Xiaodao set down the oil lamp and stepped out the door, where the corridor lay empty both ahead and behind, the ground marked by black muck residue. He had initially grabbed the Owl Kiss Twin Blades, but after a moment’s thought, shook his head silently.

Four black characters circled his fingers briefly before shattering thunderously.

[Celestial Blessing: Flawless Celestial Garment]

This was one of the word-sequence combinations from Kui of the Chief Celestial, similar to “Human-Faced Peach Blossom” which allowed one to disguise as another person. While “Human-Faced Peach Blossom” altered one’s appearance, “Flawless Celestial Garment” made other beings perceive you as one of their own kind; seeing a demon, you appeared demonic, seeing a monster, you appeared monstrous, though it could not be used simultaneously with “Human-Faced Peach Blossom”.

Cha Xiaodao sheathed the Owl Kiss Twin Blades behind his back and strutted out, quickly catching up with the group ahead.

The shapeless mass that had passed last turned out to be a two-meter-tall clump of mud, its body a writhing mix of weeds and sludge. It seemed delighted to see Cha Xiaodao following behind, opening its mouth wide into a happy grin.

Cha Xiaodao nodded politely in return, “Here I am!”

This crowd was but a fraction; Cha Xiaodao watched other strange figures emerge from different corridors. From outside the roof window, shadowy figures wafted in, all heading downstairs together.

At the foot of the stage below stood a rosy-cheeked little old man, wielding a flagpole with a red embroidered ball, who upon seeing the assembled throng of creatures, hastily lashed at the surrounding octagonal tables with his whip. Tea cups and bowls rattled, and he cursed, “Shameless lazy fools, with guests already here, why the dawdling?”

Remarkably, his whipping animated the benches, which began to tremble before arranging themselves neatly. Hot tea poured from teapots, plates flew to the kitchen for a quick spin, and soon dishes of seeds, snacks, chicken, duck, fish, and meat filled the plates. Several jars of the shopkeeper’s aged wine tore off their own seals and settled on the octagonal tables.

“Take your seats! Take your seats!”

Cha Xiaodao followed the crowd and took a seat. To his left was a dignified man in a black robe with the face of a noble, and to his right, a sharp-toothed ghost with an unhappy face, a mushroom with bite marks and saliva sprouting atop its head.

“Cough cough~”

Cha Xiaodao looked around, and boy, the room was packed with monsters and demons. Some with sparks flying from their eyes and blood on their tongues—just by their looks, one could tell they were man-eating Evil Ghosts. Others had faces caked with makeup and cheeks pink as peaches—the kind that seemed soft enough to squeeze water from. There were also burly butchers, Pig-Mouthed Taoists, long-eared scholars with tiny black figures squatting in their ears, and officials donned in tall hats and broad belts—a collection beyond measure.

Cha Xiaodao glanced around, which caught the attention of the man in the black robe on his left, who gave him a smiling look.

“You are… a descendant of Chang Tianqing?”

Cha Xiaodao let out a dry chuckle and shook his head.

“Hmm~”

The man in the black robe said no more.

“My esteemed guests, please—help yourselves~”

The old man with the whip stick called out loudly.

Cha Xiaodao picked up his chopsticks but noticed that no one else made a move. For a moment he felt a bit embarrassed and reluctantly set them back down.

Suddenly, a cold breeze swept through, and a scholar in a yellow robe appeared standing in the center of the Eight Immortals table, appearing to be in his thirties. Every gesture he made was filled with an authoritative aura.

“My friends,” he said with a bow of his hands, “please.”

Only then did the authoritative man in the black robe pick up his cup, and after him, others began to eat. The sound of music filled the air as the instruments stored in an iron box earlier that day took flight of their own accord. Costumes of vivid red and green floated onto the stage; though no one wore them, they stood erect, and operatic singing began.

In the dead of night, the restaurant was bustling with life.

Cha Xiaodao’s table seated a total of eight people. He focused solely on eating, minding nothing else. In less than fifteen minutes, the Pig-Mouthed Taoist opposite of him drank himself into a stupor and started to mumble, “These average wines are so bland. If only I could drink the aged fine wines from General Li’s Mansion, that would be truly delightful.”

The yellow-robed scholar’s ears twitched, and he smiled slightly, “That wouldn’t be too hard.”

Although he spoke softly, all eyes turned to him.

The yellow-robed scholar asked the whip stick-wielding old man to fetch ink, brush, and paper from the cashier’s desk. Upon the white paper, he swiftly drew a black jar with a red piece of paper stuck in the middle marked with the character for “wine.”

“Brother Taoist, come here,” said the yellow-robed scholar.

As he held up the withered sheet of paper, the Pig-Mouthed Taoist leaned in, extending his wine bowl. The yellow-robed scholar slightly tilted the paper, and a stream of cool wine poured out of the drawn jar, filling the bowl to the brim.

The Pig-Mouthed Taoist tipped his head back and drank it all, relishing the taste, “Excellent wine! Excellent wine!”

The atmosphere at the banquet grew even livelier, with the paper-wine being passed around the table and music playing from the stage.

But the Pig-Mouthed Taoist was dissatisfied again, “This wine is fine, but the meat lacks flavor. I have heard that in General Li’s Mansion, they raise dozens of rare black goats to ward off evil spirits—heh heh~”

These “earth goats” were common parlance for dog meat. Black first, yellow second, spotted third, white last—this was an old gastronome’s mantra. Black dogs were considered to have the best-tasting meat, followed by yellow dogs, with white dogs judged the least favorable.

“Easy to handle,” said the yellow-robed scholar, still calm and collected. He picked up his brush and drew several robust black dogs on the paper. Then, with a stroke of his pen across the dogs’ bodies, he reached into the paper and pulled out four big, bloody chunks of meat and bone, placing them on the white jade dish handed to him by the old man with the whip stick.

The Pig-Mouthed Taoist eagerly instructed, “Stir-fry over a low flame to remove the fat, then use lychee-infused water for a high-heat simmer. The flavor will be especially delicious.”

The yellow-robed scholar nodded and told the old man to, “Go ahead and cook it.”

The old man went to the kitchen. Soon after, a rich aroma filled the air and large chunks of dog meat were served at the table. The Pig-Mouthed Taoist ate with a greasy face, piling up bones in front of him, his crude demeanor causing the authoritative man in the black robe beside Cha Xiaodao to frown deeply.

“The cooking time was too long,” Cha Xiaodao tasted a piece and shook his head inwardly.

“Sigh~~”

Having eaten his fill and satisfied, the Pig-Mouthed Taoist sighed again, “The wine is good, and so is the meat, but the music is too common. I heard that Commander-in-chief Li Rumei recently took in a sixteen-year-old little…”

The yellow-robed scholar cast an indifferent glance his way, and like being struck by lightning, the Pig-Mouthed Taoist immediately shut up and buried his head in his food.

“My friends~” The yellow-robed scholar ignored him and raised his cup to everyone, “Please.”

After three rounds of drinks and a variety of dishes, the guests were all drunkenly lopsided. The demure young lady revealed her fox’s tail, the tiny figures in the long-eared scholar’s ears were swimming in a wine bowl, and the fat, foolish giant occasionally let out thunderous belches.

There were still some who were sober. One of them picked his teeth and addressed the yellow-robed scholar, “Mr. Hu San, we’ve had our wine and our fill. You’ve invited all forty-eight heretics from Outside of the Pass here, so what’s all this about?”

“It’s all about the Dragon Tiger Banner and the guardian general…”

The yellow-robed scholar was speaking when he frowned, “What’s this? There’s the scent of a living person?”

Cha Xiaodao didn’t take it seriously, continuing to chew on a piece of chicken bone, savoring the flavor. He’d been eating for half the day—if the yellow-robed scholar was going to notice him, he would have already done so.

True to form, the yellow-robed scholar beckoned, and the costumes and instruments on the stage collapsed with a bang, revealing a short figure.

Cao Yongchang!