23. Pursuit

"That's not a nickname; that's actually his name."

"Huh?"

"Did he tell you that?"

"Not exactly—we guessed it."

"..."

Zhao Jia was thoroughly confused. What nonsense were these fellows talking about? When he first met Black Cat, these men were still playing dice in the prison barracks—how could they possibly know Black Cat's name now? Yet, seeing Old Cat didn't refute it, it almost seemed as if the cat had always been called that.

"Boss, you may not know this, but Squire Song from the North City..." The short one eagerly recounted to Zhao Jia how they'd guessed and verified the name.

...

Zhao Jia was now mostly convinced. "And that young constable..."

In a low voice, the short one asked, "How did the demon pay him silver?"

Zhao Jia shook his head. "His name is Chen Shuichang, just twenty years old. I asked him—he was simply terrified. Nothing to do with the demon."

"Not just him—weren't we all scared stiff? That thing came stepping across the river mist, a mountain hare as tall as a man glaring at us by its side. I didn't dare draw my blade either..." Zhao Jia grumbled, chiding himself for his cowardice, yet secretly relieved he hadn't acted rashly. Luckily, the demon only took the tax silver and had no intention of fighting them.

"Not to mention, if there'd been a yellow dog at its side too, that would be leading a yellow on the left and a blue on the right!" Big Mouth's eyes still brimmed with awe as he recalled the scene.

Old Cheng, bare-chested and puffing on his pipe to dull the pain, blood seeping through his bandages, muttered, "That demon was arrogant and chose its timing well—showed up when we were all exhausted. If we'd been in proper formation, a hundred armored men in front, strong bows and crossbows drawn, no matter what magic it had, we'd have riddled it!"

Black Cat's ears perked up.

"Meow."

"Sir, do you have any stories to share with us?" the short one pressed.

Big Mouth, too, was full of curiosity.

Puff.

Whoosh!

Old Cheng exhaled a plume of acrid smoke and mused, "Back in the day, when disaster struck Jiangxi, bandits grew strong overnight. Our brothers were conscripted to follow General Di in suppressing the rebellion. Their chief, known as Li the Half-Immortal, could summon wind and rain, cast beans to become soldiers, and after drinking his talisman water, his men were said to be invulnerable. Word was, he selected the strongest men and turned them into iron-armored corpses."

"General Di wasn't fazed in the least. He said, 'They're all flesh and blood, born of parents, just like us. Who's to say they're any tougher?'"

"Three thousand archers ready!"

"Bows fully drawn!"

The bowstrings sounded like a mountain gale howling.

"Loose!"

"After the bowstrings sang, not one in ten survived."

"So, you see, that demon picked the right moment. If it had come before we were worn out from fighting the river bandits, it would have been riddled with arrows by now."

Men and monsters both fear each other. Humans fear the unknown, and so do monsters. In the eyes of monsters, humans are large, communal beasts wielding strange magics—it's not easy to provoke them lightly.

Who knew why that demon swaggered in so brazenly?

So Old Cheng said the demon was arrogant.

Black Cat, Lu Xun, nodded repeatedly.

Indeed, that made sense.

"Strange, though—it didn’t eat people or cause mischief, just took the silver," the short one marveled. "Commanding crows, ordering mountain hares—he's more like some grand marshal!"

Zhao Jia was no longer doubtful. "We'll look into him. Someone so conspicuous shouldn't be hard to find."

...

The night passed without further incident.

Everyone was up early, boarding the boat to return to Meilan County.

The roads were slow, but the river was swift.

By dusk, Meilan's dock was in sight.

...

"What?"

"The tax silver is gone!"

Master Lü was still basking in the joy of victory when he hurriedly pressed for details.

Upon hearing County Captain Lei Ji's account, he nearly ducked under his desk in fright.

A great demon had appeared—this was beyond their abilities and had to be reported to the prefecture at once, so the Six Doors constables from the provincial office could be summoned.

The magistrate gave his orders: "Very well, I will write to the prefecture. Captain Lei and officers from both counties are to join forces in taking the water stronghold. Head Constable Zhou Liang, as this isn't a crime of war, you are allowed to redeem your faults by investigating and raiding Clear Spring Temple, that den of depravity. Head Constable Zhao, you are tasked with investigating the demon's origins. You may command all three squads of officers at will."

"If you find the demon, do not act rashly."

"Demons are not like river bandits. If you startle him into fleeing deep into the mountains, he'll be hard to deal with."

Though both were flesh and blood, demons moved unseen while armies, no matter how strong, moved slowly. If they angered the demon and he retaliated with a decapitation strike, Lü Qian would lose more than his official hat—he'd lose his head.

Thus, with endless cautions, he ordered them to await the arrival of the provincial constables.

...

"I knew it would be like this," the short one nearly laughed in exasperation.

"You all needn't get involved. Take a few days to rest," Zhao Jia said. "I've already sent the three squads to gather information. As Old Cheng said, that demon is so arrogant—he’ll show up again."

The short one asked, puzzled, "Head Zhao, why are you working yourself so hard?"

"It's my duty!"

"Brother Cat, let's go."

Black Cat, who'd been dozing, shook himself awake, his great tail sweeping the dust from his coat, and beckoned.

Man and cat made straight for the donkey cart waiting by the yamen.

Old Liu the carter asked, "Where to, Constable?"

Zhao Jia was about to answer when the short one caught up and jumped aboard.

"You!"

"Heh heh, Chief, Old Cheng needs to recover, Zhuangzi's gone to the physician, Big Mouth's gone home, and I'm only lightly hurt, no family and no job. I might as well go with you." The short one rubbed his hands; he’d be bored alone, and he never quite fit in with the other constables.

Besides, the county reward hadn't come, so he had no silver to squander at the brothel.

"Fine."

"Gentlemen, where to?"

"The cat will show you the way."

"The cat?" Old Liu was stunned, wondering if the constables were making sport of him.

Then he saw the cat lift its paw and point down the main road.

"Heavens above!"

The cat led, the donkey ran.

In less than half an hour,

Old Liu pulled the reins to stop.

In the north of the city.

The Song Residence.

Man and cat hopped off the cart.

Knock, knock.

"Who is it?" The old steward opened the door, his gaze wary.

Outside stood two men in black official garb—one tall and lean like a sleeping eagle or a hungry tiger, the other short and compact. The short one was only vaguely familiar, but the leader he recognized at once—it was Zhao Jia, the chief of the third squad of constables, addressed respectfully even by the yamen officers as "Sir."

Looking more closely—

He gasped. "Three-Leg!"

Black Cat, Lu Xun, grinned widely.

Bang!

The door slammed shut.

"We're in trouble, we're in trouble!" The old steward hurried through the main hall into the inner quarters, flustered as he searched for the master. Spotting Squire Song, he nearly collapsed to the floor.

"What has you in such a panic?" Squire Song teased, smiling.

The steward, panting, replied,

"Two constables—"

"Zhao Jia—"

"…"

"A cat, a cat—Three-Leg!"

"They've brought two constables with them!"

"What?!" Squire Song was thunderstruck, his teacup clattering to the table as he rose and paced. "This... this... What do we do now?"

He couldn't just bar the door forever. No matter what trouble Three-Leg was in, he had once belonged to the Song household.

Squire Song let out a long sigh.

"Invite them in."

So the two constables and the black cat were welcomed into the main hall.

Squire Song was full of emotion. "You've returned again."

Black Cat, Lu Xun, perched on a chair, tilting his head at Squire Song.

Zhao Jia had rehearsed his approach but decided to probe cautiously. "Sir, do you know him?"

"Not just know—he's an old friend. This is Three-Leg, our house cat, nearly fifteen years old now."

"Weren't you here for him, Constable?"

"Yes, and no."

"I heard something strange once happened in your house, and you invited a master from Lushan Sect to intervene."

"Is that why you're here?"

Zhao Jia nodded.

Squire Song's expression turned cold. "Forgive me, I have nothing to say on that matter."

Realizing it concerned the reputation of the Song family's young lady, Zhao Jia didn't press further. He cupped his hands and said, "I only wish to know the origin of that demon. Do you have any idea?"

"The origin?" Squire Song furrowed his brow, pondering deeply.

At length, he replied, "The demon once claimed to be the Five-Tong God."