Dragon Mountain Temple of the Ancient Tomb, Chapter 35: The Millennia-old Fox King

Min Wenbin went to the town, but many people avoided him, unwilling to come near. He spent the whole day displaying his calligraphy and paintings, yet as dusk approached, not a single soul dared to buy a piece. With no other choice, he packed up his belongings and returned to Longming Temple.

“Is that man a human or a ghost?”
“My paper offerings shop was hoping to profit from the three of them.”
“My coffin shop as well.”
“Exactly. I’ve already prepared the funeral procession and rites.”

Several townspeople gathered, murmuring among themselves. Far away, Min Shubin had no inkling of their conversation.

Min Wenbin arrived back at Longming Temple late in the evening.
“What’s wrong? You look troubled.” Min Wenbin asked upon seeing Jiaohé sitting gloomily.

“It’s nothing. You should leave quickly—my father is coming. Go find Young Master Li,” Jiaohé urged, pushing him toward the door.

“What? Your father is coming? That’s all the more reason I shouldn’t leave. Is it that your father disapproves?” Min Wenbin, hearing his father-in-law was coming, was determined not to leave. He had no idea Jiaohé was a fox spirit, nor that her father was the thousand-year-old Fox King, infamous for taking lives.

“Please, you must go. My father is not easy to deal with,” Jiaohé insisted nervously.

Just as she tried to push him out, opening the door, the Fox King was already standing at the threshold.

With his left hand, the Fox King seized Min Wenbin by the throat, lifting him into the air. Min Shubin could not breathe, his face pale and ashen.

“Father, I beg you, let him go,” Jiaohé pleaded, falling to her knees when she saw Min Wenbin held aloft.

“Hmph, harbinger of misfortune, how dare you hide someone here,” the Fox King sneered, striking Jiaohé across the face with his cane, knocking her to the ground.

Jiaohé cried out in pain, then looked up as Min Wenbin gasped for air, his eyes rolling back. She sprang to her feet and charged at the Fox King, forcing him back a dozen steps before he could regain his footing.

Turning quickly to Min Wenbin, Jiaohé blew a breath onto his face and whispered, “Run! Go find Young Master Li—he can protect you.”

No sooner had Jiaohé spoken than the Fox King recovered, his rage boiling over at her audacity to strike him.

“Hmph, none of you will escape,” he declared, grasping Jiaohé’s throat from afar and flinging her to the left.

Jiaohé crashed into the coffins and graves, scattering them like bowling pins.

“You want to save him? Bring the other scholar here!” the Fox King demanded, grabbing the barely conscious Min Wenbin and vanishing from sight.

Jiaohé pushed the coffin off her body, spat blood, and leapt in the direction of Li Xintian.

On the way, she collided with Li Xintian; the commotion from her crash had been too loud to miss.

“You’re injured—what happened?” Li Xintian asked, seeing Jiaohé wounded.

Hu Qiuyan stepped forward to support Jiaohé.

“My injury is nothing. Shubin has been taken by my father, surely to that wicked Daoist. He said only if Young Master Li goes can Shubin be saved,” Jiaohé said, disregarding her wounds out of guilt for Min Wenbin’s plight.

“Miss Hu, help Miss Jiao recover. Once she’s healed, we’ll rescue him,” Li Xintian said calmly, though he disapproved of Jiaohé’s actions. Still, he would not force her to act before her wounds healed.

“No, my injury truly doesn’t matter. Saving Shubin is more important,” Jiaohé protested, pushing Hu Qiuyan aside.

“If you take us there in this state, we’ll have to split our efforts to save you as well. That’s not a rescue—it’s a death sentence,” Li Xintian replied coolly, signaling Hu Qiuyan to tend to Jiaohé’s wounds.

This time, Jiaohé did not refuse. Hu Qiuyan treated her wounds until midnight.

Li Xintian took out a book, wrote the character for “righteousness” inside, closed it, and handed it to Hu Qiuyan. “You’ve exhausted yourself healing Jiaohé. It’s best you rest. If you’re ever in danger, open this book—it will save you.”

“Thank you. Take care,” Hu Qiuyan nodded, feeling the warmth from the book in her hands. Not enough to injure, but she understood she’d only be a burden if she accompanied them.

“Miss Jiao, lead the way,” Li Xintian said.

Jiaohé nodded, leaping onto the branches to travel, with Li Xintian following closely behind.

Late into the night, the pair—a man and a fox—arrived at a Daoist temple.

“This is the domain of the wicked Daoist. He seeks immortality and enslaves us, forcing us to help him refine blood elixirs. Those who disobey are turned into the elixirs themselves, their cultivation absorbed by him. He is the root of all evil here. There's another culprit hidden in Longming Temple, but I don’t know where,” Jiaohé explained to Li Xintian.

“Let’s go inside,” Li Xintian nodded, drawing his Righteousness Brush; his aura shifted dramatically.

Even without releasing his full power, Jiaohé felt an instinctive fear, keeping a cautious distance behind him.

They entered the temple hall, where the wicked Daoist sat in authority, the Fox King stood respectfully beside him, and Min Wenbin lay in the center, unable to move, only able to groan incoherently.

“I’m here. Release him,” Li Xintian demanded, facing the wicked Daoist and the Fox King with not a hint of fear.

The Daoist did not comply. “You, scholar, dare come here so calmly—surely you have something to rely on?”

“Release him, and we’ll go our separate ways,” Li Xintian said, expressionless, eyes fixed on the Daoist.

“Ha! What terms do you have to offer for his release?” the Daoist laughed loudly.

“Sigh, Brother Shubin, I’m afraid I can’t save you this time. Don’t blame me. If I don’t kill this wicked Daoist, more will die,” Li Xintian sighed. He had hoped to wait for the Daoist to release Min Wenbin and deal with him later, but now, with no release, he could only sacrifice Min Shubin. If it weren’t necessary, he wouldn’t have chosen this path.

Li Xintian advanced step by step, his righteous aura growing with each stride.

The Daoist, Fox King, and Jiaohé’s eyes widened in fear. Jiaohé felt as though she were being burned, quickly hiding by the door, peering anxiously, unable to approach Li Xintian.

“It’s the mighty Righteousness! No, impossible—the Righteousness vanished long ago. No one could wield it!” The Daoist screamed as if possessed.

In a rage, the Daoist struck out at Li Xintian, but the Righteousness aura followed his attack, igniting him from within. Red smoke billowed, and he struggled to extinguish the flames—burning from Righteousness itself—staring at Li Xintian with furious eyes.

The Righteousness had consumed his centuries of cultivation, reducing it all to nothing. His anger was boundless.

“If you dare attack again, you won’t be able to keep him alive,” the Daoist threatened, suspending Min Shubin in midair.

“Righteous!” Li Xintian shouted, ignoring the Daoist, unconcerned with why Righteousness had disappeared—he knew he’d learn in time.

The Righteousness energy transformed into a character and entered Min Wenbin’s body.

Seeing this, the Daoist released his grip, fearful that the energy would follow his power again. Min Wenbin fell heavily to the ground.

“Let’s go,” the Daoist said, realizing he would surely die if he stayed. He grabbed the Fox King and smashed through the temple roof, soaring into the night.

Li Xintian could not fly, so he withdrew his Righteousness aura. If he pursued them, it would expend too much effort, and the Daoist’s inability to swallow his humiliation meant he’d surely return with reinforcements.

Li Xintian decided that, when the time came, he would deal with the whole group of threats once and for all.