The Young Girl's Chronicles of Demon-Slaying

Chapter 44: Treating Guests

It was the dead of night, and all was quiet. Beneath Yue Guang, a mass of black mist fled in panic, darting at breakneck speed between the lights and shadows, appearing and disappearing in an instant. On the deserted street, a car would occasionally speed by, and every now and then, a late-night pedestrian would walk along the street. If they looked up, they would only sense a dark gust darting through the air—vanishing from view in the blink of an eye, its whereabouts unknown, leading them to assume it was a hallucination. This black mist had no physical form; no matter what it collided with along the way, it passed right through, completely unharmed. Before long, the black mist drifted through the window of a room in an apartment building. As soon as it landed, a pitch-black figure materialized. It staggered forward a few steps before barely regaining its footing. Then, the lights in the room came on. A quick glance revealed that the room looked somewhat familiar—it was an ordinary bedroom—and the figure that had been shrouded in darkness was none other than Wang Yiting, who had fled from the Song family’s home. At that moment, his face was pale from severe blood loss, and he was drenched in sweat from the excruciating pain caused by his severed arm and shattered bones. His left arm hung limply at his side, blood gushing like a faucet left wide open, soaking his sleeve and streaming down his arm. Eventually, it formed a continuous trail of blood, and before long, a small pool had formed on the tiled floor. If the bleeding continued like this, he would likely die. Wang Yiting knew this all too well, yet he didn’t rush to find a bandage. Instead, he tremblingly reached into his waistband with his right hand and pulled out a talisman. After murmuring a spell, he pressed the talisman against his bleeding left arm. The stream of blood that had been flowing continuously stopped instantly, leaving only a few residual drops that fell one by one; within a few seconds, they had completely congealed. The effectiveness and speed of this hemostasis were far superior to anything available at a hospital, but Wang Yiting knew this was only temporary. If he didn’t bandage the wound, once the talisman’s effect wore off, the blood would likely start flowing uncontrollably again. Still, it was enough to tide him over for the moment. After stopping the bleeding, he immediately began rummaging through the drawers and cabinets. It was unclear exactly what he was looking for, but after a thorough search, he emerged from the room wearing an overcoat. He turned off the light, and in the darkness, hurried out the door. Meanwhile, even though Song Jianqiu had watched with her own eyes as Wang Yiting was knocked down by the bronze pi xiu, turned into a black mist, and fled out the window, she was still somewhat worried that he might launch a surprise counterattack while she let her guard down. So, in the wee hours of the night, she didn’t go to bed but sat at her desk, turned on her desk lamp, and began reading the sutras. It wasn’t until the sky began to lighten outside—around 4:00 a. m. —that she felt confident he wouldn’t return. She rose from her desk, stretched, yawned, took off her clothes, and climbed into bed to sleep. She didn’t sleep for long, though. By a little past seven in the morning, she was already up. After brushing her teeth, washing her face, and eating breakfast, she said goodbye to Lin Yuqin and headed out for school with her backpack. Time passed day by day, and before she knew it, another ten days had gone by, and June was already more than halfway over. Ever since Wang Yiting had been severely injured in Song Jianqiu’s room that day, he hadn’t been seen at the Song family home again. Not even on Antique Street—where he was usually a familiar sight—had anyone spotted him, which left Song Wencheng somewhat puzzled. During dinner, he couldn’t help but mention this antique dealer:He, too, had recently set his sights on an antique but wasn’t sure of its authenticity; he’d been planning to ask Wang Yiting to appraise it, but now he couldn’t find him anywhere. For Lin Yuqin, however, this news was a blessing. Without Wang the broker to authenticate the piece, Song Wencheng would hesitate when buying antiques and wouldn’t be able to make a decision with such certainty. If he truly couldn’t verify its authenticity—no matter how much he liked it—he would forgo the purchase to avoid being scammed and ending up with a fake. This undoubtedly meant saving some money, and Lin Yuqin was naturally delighted. Right now, Song Jianqiu is probably the only one who knows why Wang Yiting has vanished. That night, the bronze pi xiu’s bite was brutal—even from where she was standing, she could hear the crisp sound of bones snapping. One can only imagine how severe the injury to Wang Yiting’s left arm must be. After escaping, he probably rushed straight to the hospital, didn’t he? It remained to be seen whether his arm could be saved after such a bite. If the bones were too shattered to be reattached, he might have to undergo an amputation. If that happened, the grudge would run even deeper. But to Song Jianqiu, it didn’t matter. After all, even without this grudge over the severed arm, Wang Yiting would never have let the Song family off the hook. If he wanted to hate her, let him hate her. Her only concern was what kind of trouble he might stir up the next time he came back for revenge. Although she now had a string of Buddhist prayer beads and a bronze pi xiu she’d bought for five yuan, to be honest, she was still completely in the dark when it came to these mysterious and esoteric matters. So, to avoid being caught off guard by Wang Yiting’s next sneak attack, she’d recently been frantically scouring all kinds of books. Almost every day when she had free time, she’d spend hours at the library or search her phone for posts and forums discussing Daoism and Buddhism, trying to fill in the gaps in her knowledge of these esoteric subjects. Of course, all of this was her secret; she couldn’t share it with anyone. Only occasionally would she think of that student named Lin Dian, who had given Lin Yuqin a copy of the *Diamond Sutra*. She suspected he might be an expert in the field, but she had no proof. On the few occasions she ran into him at the Conservatory, Lin Yuqin was always present, so they could only exchange a few brief words—which made it difficult for her to broach the subject or probe further. After this happened a few times, she gave up on seeking advice, deciding it was better to rely on herself than on others. Thanks to her efforts over the past few days, she’s actually made quite a bit of progress so far. Her days passed quietly and uneventfully. If it weren’t for the whole Wang Yiting situation, Song Jianqiu would have truly enjoyed this carefree life—going to and from school every day, with studies that came easily to her. She felt completely stress-free and light as a feather, waking up each morning refreshed and alert, never feeling drowsy. That evening, the family of three was sitting in the living room watching TV when Lin Yuqin suddenly said, “Hengheng’s adoption certificate should have arrived by now.” “If you do the math, it really should be here by now,” Song Wencheng added. The application to adopt Song Jianqiu had been submitted twenty days earlier, but according to regulations, a twenty-day observation period was required before the adoption certificate could be officially issued. The purpose of this was to ensure that the adoptive parents and the child could adjust to each other; if any conflicts arose or if the adoptive parents suddenly changed their minds about the adoption, the situation could be corrected in a timely manner. “I’ll stop by the Civil Affairs Bureau tomorrow. If it’s ready, let’s find an opportunity to treat my cousin’s family to a meal,” Lin Yuqin said. “Sure!” Song Wencheng nodded. “My older sister helped out when Hengheng started school, so now that the adoption certificate is ready, let’s celebrate together!” “It happens to be Saturday and Sunday in a couple of days. Ask your aunt if she’s free.” “Okay, I’ll give her a call.” After a brief discussion between Song’s parents, the plan to host the meal was finalized, and Song Jianqiu, of course, had no objections. (End of Chapter)