Chapter 2: The Epic Battle Between the Fox and the Badger

Walking along the road home, Xu Xuan glanced up at the pitch-black sky, where only a few scattered stars glittered.

He lived in the northeast corner of the county town. Passing through bustling streets and glimpsing the faint glow from a few households where lamps had not yet been extinguished, he could just make out a narrow path.

Unwittingly, he had already spent eighteen years in this world and had long since grown accustomed to everything here.

In his previous life, he had lived on Earth. He had not yet graduated from university when he was struck by an incurable disease, snuffing out his life in his prime.

Upon arriving in this world, he took the name Xu Xuan, styled Hanqing.

Xuan, denoting a royal house, signified a pillar of strength. Hanqing, meaning talented and noble, was a name his family gave him with hopes he would one day distinguish himself and make something of his life.

By the age of five, Xu Xuan gradually recalled memories of both his past and present lives.

This made him precocious from an early age, and he became known throughout Wuliu County as a child prodigy.

At ten, he astonished the literary world of the prefecture with his poem "An Ancient Ode to the Moon." Two years ago, he passed the county-level exam and was named a Xiucai, promising a bright future.

Xu Xuan had studied the historical records and found that the Da Qian Dynasty in which he now lived did not correspond to any dynasty in recorded history. Yet it, too, boasted iconic rivers and mountains, such as the Yangtze, the Yellow River, and other famed landmarks.

Moreover, this world was filled with strange wonders and was far from ordinary.

Here, demons and monsters existed, and the powers of ghosts and spirits could overturn heaven and earth.

Scholars and great Confucians who served as officials carried with them the fortune of their nation and the righteous spirit of their office. Though they did not practice martial arts or Daoist magic, their moral aura could repel evil, and their words and writings could vanquish demons and monsters, making them impervious to all wickedness.

Warriors, brimming with vital energy, could split mountains and shatter stones with their flesh alone. Their boiling blood was like scalding oil, and they, too, could slay demons and ghosts.

Heavenly Masters of the Daoist sects wielded powers beyond imagination—calling wind and rain, turning beans into soldiers, and more.

In this life, Xu Xuan was still an infant when a great flood struck his village. His parents perished early, leaving only him and his elder sister to depend on each other.

His sister, Xu Rongjun, was eighteen years his senior. From childhood, she played the role of both sister and parent. Xu Xuan always harbored deep gratitude toward her.

Had she not been burdened by caring for him, with her beauty, she could easily have married into wealth.

In the end, at nineteen, she married a local constable while carrying Xu Xuan, still swaddled, in her arms. Though they did not achieve great fortune, their lives were comfortable and peaceful.

After their marriage, his brother-in-law cherished his sister, and the years passed in happiness.

Of course, Xu Xuan, unmarried, continued to live with his sister’s family.

As for embarking on the path of cultivation, that story began more than a decade ago.

Back then, Xu Xuan was only five years old, playing with other children when he wandered into the City God Temple of Wuliu County.

Seeing that no one was around, he secretly ate some of the offerings left for the City God, and soon after, fell into a deep sleep.

In his dreams, he met the City God, as well as the civil and military judges, the day and night patrol spirits, the black and white wardens, the ox-headed and horse-faced guardians.

The City God told him he possessed immortal fate, accepted him as a disciple, and taught him the arts of immortality to aid in his cultivation.

With these teachings, and with his Virtue Mirror allowing him to exchange rewards for vanquishing monsters, Xu Xuan cultivated arduously for more than ten years, achieving some mastery over his techniques and powers.

Though he dared not claim he could face great demons, he was more than capable of dealing with minor monsters that preyed upon villagers, devouring human flesh and blood.

After passing through the narrow path ahead, he still had to traverse a stretch of ruined ground before reaching home.

This ruin had once been a slum, but in recent years, under the wise governance of the county magistrate of Wuliu, local finances flourished.

Plans were made to demolish the slum and rebuild it, improving the lives of the townsfolk and earning the magistrate some political merit.

Just as Xu Xuan entered the ruins, he suddenly detected a faint trace of demonic energy.

At the same time, the sounds of a struggle drifted from nearby, causing Xu Xuan to frown.

It seemed trouble had found him yet again.

He quietly approached the source of the commotion and hid behind a broken section of wall.

Muttering an incantation, golden light flashed in his eyes as he opened his celestial sight. In the clearing ahead, two figures were locked in fierce combat.

The fight was perilous and intense.

One was a burly man in black, his hair white as snow, about thirty years of age. He was tall and menacing, with a missing eye, a face covered in a thick beard, and wielded a massive broadsword shaped like a demon’s head. His every movement was ferocious and forceful.

His opponent was a young woman, perhaps sixteen or seventeen, dressed in an elegant white robe adorned with double butterfly embroidery and a golden hairpin with jeweled ornaments in her coiffure. She wore delicate cloud silk shoes, and her beauty was radiant and enchanting.

She held a silver sword, struggling to fend off the black-clad brute’s assault.

At first, they seemed evenly matched, but gradually, the young woman was drenched in fragrant sweat and began to lose ground.

“Tu Shanxue, do you really think you can meddle in my affairs? I’m just here in the city seeking flesh and blood to feed—what business is it of yours?” the one-eyed brute growled menacingly.

“The family you intend to harm has shown me kindness. I often receive their incense and offerings—how could I let you do as you please?” the young woman replied, her voice melodious yet growing faint from exhaustion.

“Others may fear your Tu Shan clan, but I do not! You’re a spirit who’s attained the Dao—if I devour your flesh and blood, my own powers may soar!” sneered the brute.

As he spoke, the black-clad man leapt into the air, his broadsword slamming down with force and knocking the silver sword from the maiden’s grasp.

Now defenseless, the young woman was in dire peril, defeat all but certain.

In a flash, the demon blade struck the young woman’s shoulder, blood spurting forth.

She cried out in pain, and before she could react, the brute raised his blade again, aiming for her head. If this blow landed, her life would surely be forfeit.

It was a moment of deadly crisis.

The one-eyed brute, wild with bloodlust, did not notice the rush of wind behind him.

A chill swept through his body, and as he turned, terror froze his soul.

He saw a spiked club radiating golden light looming large before his eyes. His head exploded in agony, and he knew nothing more.

Xu Xuan calmly withdrew his spiked club. The brute collapsed, his skull shattered, blood pooling on the ground—clearly dead.

As the golden light faded from Xu Xuan’s eyes, he saw that on the ground lay a large badger with black fur and a white head.

The battle had truly been between their spirit forms—only those with celestial sight could see their true natures.

After all, neither demon had cultivated enough to truly merge soul and form.

To ordinary folk, it would have appeared no more than a vicious struggle between two beasts, ignorant of the mortal peril involved.

The badger’s body reeked of blood, its aura thick with evil—a monster that had surely brought disaster and fed on human flesh.

As a Xiucai, Xu Xuan was adorned with scholarly virtue and the nation’s blessing; with his cultivation, any mountain spirit or demon who had recently harmed humans could hide nothing from him.

Of course, some monsters were skilled at concealment and possessed their own talents, so not all could be easily exposed.

The badger slain, Xu Xuan turned to see a small, snow-white fox beside him, its left forepaw wounded and bleeding.

Her bright, obsidian eyes shone with gratitude, and, astonishingly, she bowed to Xu Xuan as a person would, expressing her thanks.

“Seeing injustice demands action. You are a spirit who dines on wind and dew, nourished by the incense of the mortal world—I could not let you come to harm,” Xu Xuan said. He took a green handkerchief from his breast, knelt before the little white fox, and gently bound her wound.