togophonebook Chapter 42 Collusion
Chapter 42 Collusion
Faced with Song Quyou's questioning.
The man in the black robe withdrew his scaly hand without answering.
"Master, you are also a cultivator of the Tao, how can you engage in such petty thievery, like a thief who comes uninvited?"
The voice was old, but it did not come from the black-robed man in front of them.
Song Quyou looked at the half-closed door of the main hall, and a man with a goatee and wearing a wide-sleeved robe walked out.
The man stood calmly with his hands behind his back in front of the hall, looking like a hermit sage.
"So you're the owner of that pond?"
The goatee-wearing man stroked his beard and smiled faintly: "It is I."
"Were the fish in the Jiangxu River, and the two crocodile demons from last night, your doing?"
The man with the goatee did not answer, but changed the subject: "The Taoist priest is a practitioner of Taoism, so he should know about offering sacrifices and praying for divine protection. The reason why everyone in our Tangfang is prosperous is because we worship the gods every day."
Everything we do is simply to please the Prefect.
The Taoist priest took away our offerings to the gods, which is a serious violation of the precepts of Taoism.
Song Quyou held his long sword horizontally in front of him, the tip pointing diagonally at the ground, and sneered:
"Is that so? I haven't seen the wealth of the people of Tangfang, but I have seen you, a beast in human skin, sacrificing human lives to evil gods for your own selfish desires."
Instead of being angry, the pond owner laughed and looked Song Quyou up and down, saying, "Daoist, you are still too conservative. When my ancestors came here, they would sacrifice themselves to the belly of this crocodile whenever they died. Now, after a hundred years, the flesh and blood of my ancestors have been fused into the blood of the Crocodile Lord."
When we worship the Dragon Lord, we are worshipping the remains of our ancestors. Offering living people is to please our ancestors. How can this be simply described as worshipping an evil god?
They should be praised as filial sons and virtuous grandsons.
Song Quyou stared at the goatee-bearded man, his gaze growing increasingly cold and sharp.
"You mean your ancestors' bones and flesh are fused into that demonic creature? You mean, for the past hundred years, you've been feeding the remains of your own relatives to that crocodile demon, and now you're feeding them to the living, calling it ancestral worship?"
The pond owner paced back and forth, slowly explaining, "Taoist priest, you are mistaken. After a person dies, their skin returns to dust, and their flesh and blood become food for maggots. The objects of our sacrifices are the remains of our ancestors that have been devoured."
"And since the Lord of the Underworld has consumed the flesh and blood of our ancestors, our worship of him is also a worship of the remains of our ancestors, and moreover, remains of our ancestors whose spirits reside there, remains of our ancestors that can bring us abundance."
Upon hearing this, Song Quyou did not budge the tip of his sword, but a sneer crept onto his lips: "According to you, wouldn't the others you fed the crocodile demons also become your ancestors?"
I never expected that you, dressed like a reclusive sage, would be such a person who randomly claims ancestry.
The smug look on the pond owner's face finally crumbled. His goatee twitched, his eyes twitched, and he said in a sinister tone, "Young Taoist priest, your words are sharp enough, but I wonder if the sword in your hand is sharp enough."
No sooner had he finished speaking than the crocodile demon in black robes flashed by, its iron claws plunging straight for Song Quyou's heart.
Song Quyou was not afraid. His sword trembled, and he shifted his stance, advancing instead of retreating.
The Crocodile Demon Sword missed its target and stretched out its leg to try and turn around to grab it, but Song Quyou was already waiting for it to turn around.
A blue rainbow pierced the sky, and the crocodile demon felt a chill in its throat. Its vision suddenly lowered, and its eyes slowly turned red and darkened, losing all vitality.
Song Quyou twirled his sword, flicking the sticky droplets of blood from its blade onto the ground. The crocodile demon's corpse crashed to the ground, shattering a pile of bluestone.
"Master Tang, release all the people you've captured, and I might even give you a proper burial."
The pond owner, appearing completely confident and showing no sign of panic, clapped his hands in praise:
"Young Taoist priest, you are indeed skilled. It is no wonder that the two crocodile demons you sent over last night fell into your hands. However, this is Tangfang. If you want to act recklessly, Taoist priest, I'm afraid you don't have the ability."
After he finished speaking, squads of officials in black robes, carrying swords and holding bows and crossbows, surrounded Song Quyou.
Song Quyou looked around and saw that the archers had filled all four walls of the courtyard, and the taut strings of the crossbows gleamed coldly in the sunlight.
There were at least twenty constables in black uniforms. The ones in the front row were strong and steady, while those in the back row were fat and bloated. However, these constables all had one thing in common: they were fierce and menacing, just like local ruffians.
"How dare you! In broad daylight, you bring evil spirits and break into people's homes to commit murder!"
Now that you see us officers, quickly lay down your weapons obediently, and I might be lenient with you.
Song Quyou's cold eyes gleamed as he glared at the black-clad officials carrying bows and crossbows around him. His expression showed no fear, but rather a hint of mockery.
"Officials? They spend their days aiding and abetting evil, harming the villagers. In my opinion, they are nothing but beasts in human clothing."
The fat, big-eared head constable behind him sneered, waved his hand, and immediately retreated, disappearing into a secluded corner and driving out a few villagers.
"Did you see that Taoist priest just now, leading a demon to commit atrocities?"
Several villagers bowed with fawning smiles and said, "Sir, we saw it all. This sorcerer actually colluded with a demon and broke into the neighborhood owner's house in broad daylight to commit murder. He is guilty of a heinous crime."
Upon hearing this, the fat, gruff head constable's face contorted with rage. He turned to Song Quyou with a sinister grin and said contemptuously, "You heretic, the witness is right here. What else do you have to say?"
Song Quyou's gaze swept over the villagers. Seeing their hunched shoulders, sinister eyes, and fixed intently on him, he understood what was going on.
He was not angry. His aura suddenly relaxed, the sword in his hand stopped ringing, and the blue rainbow disappeared.
Upon seeing this, the officials and the owner of the pond smiled even more broadly.
"Young Taoist priest, no matter how high your skills are, can they be higher than the heavens? No matter how great your skills are, can they be greater than the government?"
"Quickly capture the thief!" The fat, big-eared official waved his hand arrogantly and smugly.
Song Quyou sneered, his cold eyes filled with murderous intent.
He moved with lightning speed, his azure sword gleaming brilliantly, its cry piercing the clouds and splitting rocks.
Everyone around instinctively covered their ears and closed their eyes.
In a short time.
It's raining.
The rainwater was warm and carried a slightly fishy smell.
When I opened my eyes, the rain had stopped.
The officers found themselves still standing, their bows and crossbows still in their hands.
Looking again into the courtyard, a headless corpse stood upright, dressed in a neat, wide-sleeved robe now covered with vibrant plum blossoms.
Where is the owner of that pond?
Of course, he hid it under his crotch. Although his lips turned white with fear, he didn't tremble and even looked somewhat like a master.
The fat, big-eared head constable, however, was unbecoming of his official status; his legs trembled uncontrollably, and a pool of foul-smelling yellow water swelled at his feet.
What is it, you ask?
I can only say that the tea leaves were steeped for a bit too long and accidentally spilled onto my crotch.
The head constable's thick lips trembled for a long time before he finally managed to squeeze out a mumbled sentence: "Rebellion...rebellion! This sorcerer is committing murder in the street; kill him without mercy!"
The officials looked at each other in bewilderment.
There were no Taoist priests to be seen around here; all that could be seen were a group of flustered officials and yamen runners who were relieved that their lives had been spared.