Volume One: The Soul-Guiding Gourd and the Flame of the Spirit Chapter 29: Every Arrow Strikes the Chrysanthemum Terrace

The moonlight dappled the ground, lanterns flickered, and the sizzle from the barbecue stall grew louder. At this moment, Gu Mo, half-drunk and half-awake, stood unsteadily before the table. A pair of large hands, glowing with eerie green flames, gripped the gluttonous spirit known as Hairball with relentless force.

Sizzle—

The struggling specter writhed in agony, wisps of white smoke curling from its thick fur as the ghostly fire burned. Gu Mo’s eyes, heavy with intoxication, lowered; a cold sneer curled on his lips.

“Nothing more than this,” he spat.

At these words, the gluttonous spirit’s monstrous maw gaped wide in terror. Swish! Several stainless steel skewers, glinting coldly, shot forth like hidden weapons.

Witnessing this, Xiao Yulou—barely tipsy—immediately felt a surge of alarm. Beside him, the foolish girl nicknamed King Yama leapt to her feet. In a flash, Gu Mo jerked his head aside, narrowly dodging the flying skewers—they whistled past his ear, leaving a chill on his neck and a thin trickle of blood in their wake.

Rage surged in Gu Mo’s chest.

Thud, thud, thud!

A heartbeat later, the skewers—still dusted with cumin, chili, and sesame—embedded themselves across the greenbelt. With a startled yowl, an orange tabby, frightened out of its wits, screeched and leapt lightly onto a nearby branch. Bristling, its fur spiked like a sea urchin, razor claws dug deep into the bark, and its fluffy tail lashed back and forth.

Mrrrow—

The tabby, having landed, wrinkled its nose, bared sharp fangs, and let out a heart-rending shriek that tore through the night. Gu Mo and the specter both paused, turning with murderous glares upon the kitten. Their eyes, filled with killing intent and rows of sharp fangs bared, made the orange tabby shudder violently.

In a split second, the terrified cat snapped its mouth shut. Deep inside, it realized the vast gulf between its own strength and theirs—clearly, they weren’t even from the same world.

Losing its footing, the cat tumbled from the tree, a faint rustling echoing from the greenbelt. Crestfallen, it bounded away, but glanced back at Gu Mo and the gluttonous spirit with mournful eyes, as if to say: Sorry for the interruption!

After the tabby left in dejection, Gu Mo and the spirit squared off once again. In a blur, Xiao Yulou, unable to wait any longer, flashed to Gu Mo’s side, quietly offering counsel:

“Brother Gu, there are cameras and bystanders everywhere—hardly the place for a proper fight. That gluttonous spirit isn’t all that fierce.”

Gu Mo, still swimming in drink and confusion, nodded slightly. Then he looked at his childhood friend, Radish, smiled, and said, “Radish, I’ve got an urgent matter. I’ll be back some other day to support your business.”

Radish, bewildered, could only nod in a daze.

With that, Xiao Yulou traced a Tai Chi circle with his foot, grabbed Gu Mo, and dashed away at full speed; King Yama’s foolish girl hurried after, lugging her black bundle.

A gust of wind swept past. Radish, dumbfounded, rubbed his eyes and muttered, cold sweat beading on his brow, “What the hell is going on with Mushroom? Is he possessed? Why were his hands glowing? How could he run so fast? And that Daoist priest is even weirder...”

…

The scene shifted—Xiao Yulou dragged Gu Mo down the road at breakneck speed. As the scenery whirled, Gu Mo grew dizzy, his stomach heaving. With a screech, they came to an abrupt stop. Gu Mo steadied himself, then clung to a tree and began to vomit.

Nearby, gurgling sounds echoed. The pitch-black gluttonous spirit was also hunched beside the tree, retching. The stench of their combined sickness filled the air—an absurd and awkward sight.

Xiao Yulou found an open spot and sat cross-legged; King Yama’s foolish girl floated in midair. Both stared in astonishment at the wretched scene.

After a few breaths, Gu Mo and the spirit gathered themselves and took up positions opposite each other. The vomiting had cleared Gu Mo’s head. Now, man and ghost, one tall, one short, confronted each other in tense silence.

Gu Mo frowned deeply, inhaled, and forced his mind to its sharpest focus.

Damn—why am I back at Jade Ripple Pond? What’s that scruffy Daoist thinking? No matter—strike first, always!

With that, Gu Mo dropped into a stance, imitating his earlier training, and summoned the ghostly energy within. Instantly, a chill wind swept through the clearing. At his fingertips, a pea-sized green flame burst to life.

Not only Gu Mo, but even Xiao Yulou and King Yama’s foolish girl, watching from the side, broke into cold sweats, befuddled.

“What the hell is this?”

Gu Mo had barely finished complaining when the gluttonous spirit opened its maw. Seven or eight skewers, coated in cumin and chili, shot forth like bullets. Gu Mo’s eyes widened in terror; he dove left in desperation, caring nothing for dignity.

Thud, thud, thud!

The skewers buried themselves in the trunk behind him, quivering violently.

Gu Mo caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye and felt a jolt of terror—his scalp tingled, his soul nearly fleeing his body.

That thing’s definitely out for blood. If one of those skewers hits me, I’ll be lucky to escape with just tetanus—who knows what bacteria are on those things!

Panic-stricken, Gu Mo broke into a desperate run through the woods. The gluttonous spirit hounded him relentlessly, like a shadow that would not be shaken.

Swish, swish, swish—

Gu Mo heard the whistle of projectiles slicing the air. He ducked, hands over his head, weaving and dodging. With a sickening squelch, agony exploded in the back of his left hand—a cumin-dusted skewer had pierced straight through.

Rage flared in Gu Mo’s heart. Gritting his teeth, he pressed on, running for his life.

Swish, swish, swish—

Within seconds, skewers struck his shoulder and back. Pain wracked him, but he kept running, his mind racing.

Dammit! Since when can ghosts attack at range? At this rate, I’ll be a pincushion! No, I need a plan!

He sprinted faster, footsteps pounding through the trees.

King Yama’s foolish girl, watching, grew restless—she had no desire to lose a husband so soon. But just as she was about to intervene, Xiao Yulou stopped her.

“Your Majesty, this is a trial Brother Gu must face. He can’t live under your protection forever.”

King Yama’s girl, anxious, had no choice but to keep watching.

Deeper in the woods, Gu Mo took several more hits from the flying skewers. Xiao Yulou, frowning in thought, pulled a gleaming bronze gong from his robe and hurled it toward Gu Mo.

“Brother Gu, catch!”

Gu Mo turned just as the world went dark and a clear chime rang in his ears.

Clang!

The blow left him dazed, a sharp pain shooting through his backside. He barely had time to curse before grabbing the gong to shield the back of his head.

With a wet smack, another skewer struck his right buttock. At his wits’ end, Gu Mo clenched his jaw, using the gong to protect his rear as he fled.

The air filled with the whistling of more skewers. Gu Mo, terrified and flushed, dodged frantically. The gluttonous spirit, relentless as if guided by GPS, aimed every shot at the gong now strapped to Gu Mo’s backside.

For a while, the woods rang with the discordant clatter of the gong. Sweat poured from Gu Mo as he cursed inwardly:

Damn it! Every shot aimed at my butt! What the hell is this gluttonous spirit, anyway? Why is it so perverted?

For several minutes, the chase continued—one fleeing, one pursuing.

Eventually, the sound of gurgling signaled that the gluttonous spirit had stopped firing. Gu Mo, overjoyed, turned to see his foe panting, drenched in sweat, and gasping for breath.

Gripping a tree, Gu Mo yanked the skewers from his behind and glared at the spirit, cursing loudly.

“Thought you were tough? Go on, shoot me again! Out of ammo already?”

The spirit bared its four rows of fangs, grinding them menacingly, as if it would only be satisfied by devouring Gu Mo whole.

Gu Mo, having vented, glanced at the gong and drew a sharp breath. The once-shining surface was now bristling with skewers. If not for Xiao Yulou’s quick thinking, his own rear would have been riddled with holes.

After a long moment, the spirit’s eyes, clear as spring water, flicked with cunning. Its gaping maw opened wide, and suddenly, a dense black mist billowed forth. Gu Mo instinctively ducked behind a tree, watching warily.

From within the mist came a series of bone-chilling cracks. The stench grew overpowering, and Gu Mo’s instincts screamed that a new, greater danger was upon him—that the skewers had been mere child’s play, while this was the true threat.

As he braced himself, a sudden crash erupted—a tidal wave of deep crimson blood surged forth like a tsunami. With a thunderous impact, Gu Mo’s twisted face was slammed against the thick trunk, the surrounding foliage instantly drenched in blood and terror.

Shocked, Gu Mo clung desperately to the tree, drenched head to toe in blood. As the black mist dissipated, a dozen eerie, skeletal soldiers stood silently in the depths of the forest.

Everyone present was struck dumb with horror.

“We’re doomed!” someone cried.

…