Chapter Thirty-Five: The Dog Demon

The moon hung high overhead, casting its pale glow upon the silent, sleeping world. Having tidied away Old Tuan’s corpse, Li Yang slipped quietly through the night toward the young widow’s door.

“Lotus, my little darling... oh, brother... I’m craving you so badly...”

“Oh, don’t be so hasty... just look at how impatient you are...”

Faint, indistinct voices drifted from the crack beneath the door. Li Yang couldn’t make out every word, but it sounded very much like the widow was flirting with a man.

“Heaven and earth, bestow upon me divine power: Borrowed Art!”

Li Yang’s heart stirred. From his sleeve, a tiny golden centipede slid out, no longer than an inch, and wriggled its way through the gap at the foot of the door.

Inside the gate was a small courtyard. At the back, the main house was still brightly lit, and the sounds of laughter came from within. The centipede slipped through a crack in the window, its golden body vanishing into the gloom.

What met its eyes was a scene of frivolity: a man and woman, laughing and tussling. The man, in his thirties, had a sly, rat-like face, his expression lecherous. The woman was none other than Lotus, the widow.

“You rascal... you did promise. If I gave in to you, you’d set me up with some money.”

Her lips were red and pouting, her cheeks flushed, her robe half undone—a woman steeped in the dust of the world.

“My little darling... you have no idea how long I’ve been longing for you. A bit of money? You needn’t worry. Go ask anyone in Ping’an Town who I am—Wang San is never short of a few coins.”

With feigned bravado, the man fished a small pouch of silver dollars from his breast, tossing it in his hand. The sight, combined with his sordid face, was almost grotesque.

“Oh, Brother Wang, it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just—since my husband died, I’ve felt so unsafe.”

Gazing at the pouch, Lotus wrapped her arms around his, swaying coquettishly, her eyes brimming with a watery allure.

“My darling, look, it’s late already. Why don’t we get some rest?”

Clutching her arm, the man could barely contain himself, lunging toward her in a frenzy of lust.

“Oh, Brother Wang, don’t be so rough!”

She pushed him away with a half-hearted resistance; a flicker of disgust flashed in her eyes.

“Sweetheart... I can’t wait another moment...”

“Woof...”

Just then, a huge black dog, the size of a calf, burst out from the loft above and charged at the man. Its coat was glossy and dark, its head broad, jaws wide, green eyes glinting eerily in the lamplight. It bared its fangs, thick saliva dripping from its mouth—every inch the image of a fiend.

“Aaah—help! Lotus—quick—the dog’s gone mad!”

“Ugh... gurgle...”

Dragged off the bed by the beast, the man struggled in agony. The widow, however, calmly sat up, coldly watching the scene unfold. She picked up the fallen pouch of silver and leisurely counted the coins one by one.

In moments, the man’s throat was torn out, blood bubbling from his lips until, soon enough, he lay motionless.

Just as Li Yang thought all had ended, the black dog rose onto its hind legs, clawing its way onto the bed. Soon it was at the widow’s side, maw agape, seeming to beg for praise.

“You’re terrible! Your mouth reeks of blood—couldn’t you have washed up first?”

Far from recoiling, the woman tenderly produced a silk handkerchief and wiped the dog’s mouth, her manner so gentle that one might have mistaken her for a dutiful wife.

“Whimper... woof...”

The black dog gave a prideful growl.

“Wicked woman... such depravity cannot go unpunished. No wonder your aura is so strange.”

Hearing the commotion inside, Li Yang frowned deeply.

In such chaotic times, demons and monsters indeed ran rampant. This woman, long corroded by demonic energy, had become twisted in mind, conspiring with a demon hound for profit and murder.

“Bang! Bang!”

Li Yang kicked open the gate and rushed in.

“Who’s there—?”

Startled, the woman hastily gathered her clothes and looked toward the door in alarm.

“Grrrr...”

The demon hound leapt down from the bed, a menacing snarl in its throat as it padded toward the doorway.

“Wicked woman, still denying your guilt in Old Tuan’s death? I saw through you at a glance!”

“Such evil cannot be tolerated. Tonight, I’ll put an end to your filth!”

With a roar, Li Yang burst through the door.

“It’s you—!”

“Woof! Woof woof!!”

The widow’s face flashed with surprise, but the demon hound cared nothing for such things. Its pleasure interrupted, it was already seething with rage.

“Vile beast—seeking death!”

Li Yang’s lip curled in disgust at the dog’s gaping, fetid maw.

“Bang! Bang!”

The golden centipede, lying in wait, sprang into action. Its body swelled, and, with a flick of its tail, it sent the demon hound hurtling across the room, crashing into the wooden door with a heavy thud.

“Big Black—are you alright?!”

Seeing the demon wounded, the widow rushed to its side, her face frantic with worry.

“Whine... howl...”

The hound lay on the floor, nuzzling its head into her lap, whimpering in pain.

“You must go, don’t worry about me. I’ll hold him off.”

Stroking the beast’s head, her expression flickered uncertainly. Then, gritting her teeth, she hurled herself at Li Yang, locking her arms around his legs.

At that moment, the hound sprang up, a crafty glint in its green eyes. With a mighty leap, it vaulted onto the roof and bounded away toward the city’s edge, showing not a trace of injury.

“What a cunning monster...”

Li Yang hadn’t expected the woman would risk her life for a dog. Seeing the demon hound escape, he quickly summoned the centipede to give chase.

“You fool, look closely: that dog isn’t hurt at all. It just used you as bait to delay me,” he barked, shaking himself free from her grip.

“Yes, I am a wicked woman, a wanton,” she muttered, her face ashen as she stared after the vanishing hound.

“Was I born to be a whore? At ten, my foster father sold me to be a child bride. I slaved for that family without complaint.

“But he—he lazed his days away, always beating and cursing me. When he gambled away everything, he even tried to sell me to a brothel.”

She let out a vacant laugh, continuing, “Luckily, heaven took pity on me. Before he could do it, those thugs broke his legs. He was bedridden, and I thought I might escape disaster. But I never imagined he’d bring his gambling friends home to violate me, collecting their wagers in return.

“I bore him children, worked from dawn to dusk to support the household, cared for him in his crippled state—and this is how he repaid me! Ha, this is how he repaid me!

“Only Little Black was good to me. Every time I returned home, he’d wag his tail to greet me. My husband wasn’t even as decent as a dog—what did I need him for?”

As she spoke, her face twisted with rage.

“One stormy night, after those men had their way with me, I waited for him to sleep, then killed him and fed him to Little Black.

“After tasting human flesh, Little Black grew cleverer and cleverer. In the end, I even fed him my own son, not yet a year old. He grew even smarter after that. He’s always been good to me. Since then, I’ve treated him as my only family. He likes human flesh, so I’ve lured men to their doom for his sake, feeding him with my own hands.

“But in the end, even Little Black couldn’t be relied upon...”

“Wretched woman... alas! Pitiful people often have hateful qualities.”

Gazing at the woman sitting there, her face dull and lifeless, Li Yang’s expression shifted through disgust, contempt, scorn, pity, and finally, compassion—ending in a heavy sigh. He raised his palm and struck her atop the head with a resounding blow.