Chapter Three: The Headless Ghost General, the Fox Demon, and the Blood Serpent

“Let’s go, Chief Han. The magistrate values you highly these days!”
The gaunt constable fixed his gaze on Han Chong, his expression half amused, half sardonic, as if he had already seen through the magistrate’s ill intentions.
“Hmm.”
Han Chong nodded coolly, his heart cold.
He was curious to see what schemes the magistrate had in mind. Even if danger arose, his Fire-Spitting Technique should be enough to turn the tide.
Following the gaunt constable at a leisurely pace, Han Chong soon arrived at the rear hall, where the magistrate reclined in casual attire, lounging on a bed, eyelids drooping, puffing on a dry tobacco pipe with languid clicks.
“Han Chong, at your service, sir.”
“Mm, Deputy Chief Han, you’ve just taken office and already made a great contribution—truly the backbone of the county!
I’ve just received an order from above: these treasury funds must be transported immediately to Peijun Prefecture. Chief Kong cannot leave at the moment, so the task falls to you.”
Upon hearing Han Chong’s voice, the magistrate with his wine-reddened nose finally lifted his eyes. He picked up a green letter from the tea table and had a maid hand it to Han Chong.
Opening the letter, Han Chong found the handwriting appeared genuine.
“Deputy Chief Han, you must depart at once and deliver the treasury funds within ten days. Otherwise, you’ll answer for it.
If you succeed, I’ll appoint you as Chief upon your return!”
The magistrate’s eyes narrowed, lips curling into a sly smile.
“Thank you, sir! I take my leave.”
Han Chong was at a loss. The magistrate had laid out the risks and dangled rewards—what was his true aim?
The gaunt constable promptly led Han Chong to the back gate. The ten trunks of silver were already loaded onto carts, ready to go, as though everything had been arranged beforehand.
Han Chong steeled himself, raised his hand: “Let’s depart!”
Their procession paraded through the streets, heading north. Peijun Prefecture lay eight hundred li ahead, the route passing two mountains and a ridge, sparsely populated.
By afternoon, after several hours, the sun sank behind the western hills, its dying light blood-red, as the silver carts arrived at the foot of a mountain.
This was Maguan Mountain, the first in the north of Qingqian County, deserted for a hundred li around its base, save for a lone, dilapidated temple atop a barren slope.
Ten constables and clerks grumbled in secret—what sort of assignment was this? Escorting ten thousand taels of silver, camping in the wild, with any bandit able to rob them at will!
Han Chong was deeply uneasy, sensing trouble ahead.
If the silver were lost, that squinty-eyed magistrate would surely seize the chance to destroy him!
“Chief Han, let’s spend the night in the mountain temple! It’s unnerving out here, with no one around.”
A clerk, his face drawn, spoke with chattering teeth.
“Very well. Bring the three silver carts up to the slope—we’ll camp here.”
Han Chong directed his nine subordinates, laboriously hauling the carts up to the temple entrance.
No sooner had they parked than the temple’s rickety wooden doors banged open of their own accord. A gust of sinister wind swept thick black fog from within, swirling around them.
A cacophony of clangs rang out from nowhere as the black mist surged forth, engulfing the slope in an instant.
In the shadows, a dozen grotesque, multicolored ghosts surrounded Han Chong and his party.
“Ghosts! Real ghosts!” The clerks screamed, clutching their heads, weeping and wetting themselves in terror.
“Jie jie jie!”
From the center, a towering shadow slowly emerged—a headless, armored general.
Dark energy churned around him, black iron chains dangled from his arms, and he wielded a giant sword wreathed in smoky black flames, his voice as harsh as grinding metal, chilling all who heard it.
The surrounding ghosts shrieked bizarrely, claws bared, launching a frenzied attack like shamans gone mad.
Han Chong’s hair stood on end, but he forced himself to remain calm.
Each of these fierce ghosts seemed to rival the blue-skinned fiend in power, and the headless general was even more formidable—a true menace!
He’d been set up—the squinty-eyed magistrate had sent him to be fodder for the headless ghost! The two must be in league!
With no way out, Han Chong summoned his Fire-Spitting Technique, drew a deep breath, his face flushed, and cheeks puffed.

Then, he unleashed a jet of blue-red flames at the towering headless ghost, like the Child of Fire from legends, the blaze shooting over two zhang in length.
The giant ghost shrieked hoarsely, swinging his black sword wildly and leaping aside.
Yet the flames caught on his armor, making him howl and roll on the ground, barely extinguishing them.
Han Chong’s confidence soared—his fire-spitting was indeed a magical art, nearly burning the headless general to a crisp!
Meanwhile, the fierce ghosts, cloaked in black mist, lunged at the party, ripping into several clerks until they were bloody and screaming.
Han Chong slashed left and right with his blade, protecting himself. He spat another blast of fire at the ghosts, scorching several like rats and reducing others to ash in moments.
A path opened in the dispersing mist, and several clerks and constables scrambled out, crawling and tumbling.
Just as Han Chong was about to follow, the headless giant ghost roared and slashed at him with frightening speed.
Han Chong rolled aside, spun, and spat fire to drive back the ghosts, then charged straight at the headless general, catching him with another burst of blue flames.
The ghost fell, howling as the fire consumed him.
Han Chong was about to press the attack when a cloud of foul yellow-red miasma suddenly surged before him, blocking the way.
Startled and angry, Han Chong covered his nose and mouth, forced to retreat into the black mist.
Looking up, he saw the magistrate, wine-red nose, now clad in black, standing beside the headless general, squinty eyes gleaming with malice.
A yellow-red tail flicked behind him, sweeping away the flames from the headless ghost with two swift strokes.
“Fox demon!” Han Chong muttered, face darkening, cold sweat on his back.
He’d always suspected the magistrate was strange, but hadn’t guessed he was a fox demon in disguise!
The blue-skinned fiend and the headless general seemed to be his minions—when had ghosts and demons allied so closely?
“Heh heh! So you can spit spiritual fire—looks like I underestimated you!”
The magistrate wiped his face, peeling off a human-skin mask and tucking it away. His features transformed into a ferocious old fox, eyes glowing red with cunning malice.
“If I’m right, that blue-skinned fiend is yours. You killed the magistrate and took his place, then stole the silver and framed Han Deyuan!”
Han Chong finally understood—the disguised magistrate was the fiend’s inside man!
Only he had the power to secretly transfer the treasury funds to the Lin residence.
“Heh heh, so what? You’re just a lowly constable. What good does all your knowledge do?”
The old fox demon laughed triumphantly—after all the twists and turns, the silver would still end up in his hands.
Han Chong glanced at his system: he’d spat fire several times, his energy down to ten points!
At this rate, he’d die here for sure. Han Chong steadied himself, coldly calculating.
“Han, there’s no escape today. Surrender, and I’ll leave your corpse intact and drain your essence.
Otherwise, I’ll carve out your heart and crush your bones, sucking your brain dry!”
The fox demon extended his crimson tongue, licking his sharp fangs, spreading his red claws as if to pounce.
Yet he seemed wary of Han Chong’s fire and hesitated.
Han Chong’s mind raced. Suddenly, his expression hardened. He turned and spat fire at the remaining fierce ghosts!
Caught off guard, the ghosts screeched as the flames consumed seven in a flash.
The fox demon was momentarily stunned—was the boy mad, killing ghost soldiers for nothing?
Well, it was just the headless general’s minions, weakening Han Chong’s fire was to his advantage.
The headless giant ghost, badly burned, mourned his lost minions but dared not protest—the fox demon was his superior and had saved him.
In two breaths, Han Chong spent six energy points and killed eleven fierce ghosts.
A soft chime sounded in his mind, his brows relaxed as the upgrade prompt appeared:
[Ding! Congratulations, Host, for slaying fifteen low-level fierce ghosts. You’ve reached the second stage of the Essence Refining realm. Current energy: 40 points!
Ding! Congratulations, Host, you’ve earned a skill point. You may choose a new spell or upgrade an existing one!]

A crucial moment! Han Chong quickly made his choice.
The demon was powerful, and learning an escape skill would be safest—but that wasn’t Han Chong’s nature!
This old fox had tricked him, then threatened to carve out his heart—he would show the fox what true power was!
Demon-Slaying Technique!
It consumed twelve energy points in one breath, proof of its formidable power—slay demons and banish evil!
The Daoist plate hanging on his chest flashed with the words “Demon-Slaying,” and understanding filled Han Chong’s mind.
He slowly turned, eyes cold, fixing on the fox demon.
The fox’s sinister grin faltered, an ominous feeling rising; his red eyes darted anxiously.
Han Chong’s right hand became a blade, a blue light flickering along its edge. He thrust forward, slicing through the air!
A blue blade of light, swift as wind, sharp as steel, imbued with pure Daoist energy, shot forth.
The fox demon felt his legs trembling, unable to dodge in time. His right hand yanked the headless giant ghost into his path!
A wet slicing sound!
“Waah!”
The blade struck the headless giant’s abdomen. He screamed, clutching his stomach, convulsing as blue light enveloped him. In moments, he was dissolved into nothingness.
[Ding! Congratulations, Host, for slaying one Headless Ghost General!]
The fox demon, horrified, spun and fled at lightning speed.
“Where do you think you’re going, old fox!”
Han Chong shouted, flipping his hand. This last strike drained his remaining twelve energy points, shooting faster than before toward the fleeing giant red fox.
The fox, cunning and ruthless, saw the blade coming, knew escape was impossible.
He bared his teeth and roared, channeling all his demonic power into his right claw, slashing at the blade.
Though not close, Han Chong saw the fox’s paw glowing like a hot iron, crimson and fierce, colliding with the blue blade.
A sharp, grating sound!
“Aaaoo!”
The blade sliced into the fox’s shoulder, severing an entire limb.
The fox screamed, blood gushing from his shoulder, and limped away, vanishing into the forest.
“What a fierce old fox demon—had he not been so ruthless, he would have died under the blade!”
Han Chong exhaled heavily, his body weakened. He staggered to where the severed fox paw lay and picked it up.
He stared—this fox foreleg was only slightly thicker than a human arm, blood-red and enveloped in demonic energy.
At that moment, Han Chong’s eyes involuntarily flashed red.
A strange, blood-like essence surged from his heart, coursing backward through his veins, emerging from his right palm as a red serpent shadow!
The serpent crept about, cautiously peering, then darted into the fox limb, draining its blood at visible speed.
After two breaths, the serpent emerged, its shadow more solid, then slithered back into Han Chong’s arm, returning to his heart and vanishing.
What was this thing? Was Han Chong’s body not human? Why did this eerie blood serpent reside in his heart?
Slowly sensing, Han Chong felt warmth suffusing his body, the fatigue from battle vanished, and his strength increased.