The Exorcist of the Great Yuan Dynasty

Jincheng.

Slum district.

The night was dark and the wind was high.

“The weather is dry, beware of fire! Lock your doors and windows, guard against thieves.”

*Knock knock knock...*

*Clang!*

The sound of the night watchman striking his bamboo tube and gong echoed through the alleys.

Only then did Bai Li Feihong realize it was the third watch, midnight.

“Time for sleep.”

He gazed at his home.

Bare walls, nothing of value—no thief would spare it a second thought.

Suddenly, a shrill scream pierced the silence.

Bai Li Feihong, lying in bed pondering his troubles, jolted upright like a carp flipping in water, swiftly closed and secured the doors and windows.

Best not to get caught in any crossfire.

“That was the night watchman’s voice,” Bai Li Feihong was certain.

“Hurry, after it! We can’t let this demon recover its strength!”

An anxious voice came from above, across the tiled roofs.

A flurry of footsteps, and several tiles snapped underfoot.

Bai Li Feihong wanted to curse. It had rained two nights ago, the roof tiles leaked, and his room became a cavern of waterfalls. He had worked hard to clamber up and patch the roof.

“You martial arts types—couldn’t you at least follow some traffic rules? There’s a road, yet you insist on running across rooftops for effect. What, does it make you look cool?” he muttered.

The sounds of fierce battle erupted.

At the same time, a blood-curdling howl, laced with a demonic resonance, rippled invisibly through the air.