Demon Sword Sect's Undercover

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The song was ethereal, drifting into Hou Niao's ears and giving him the sensation that just ahead lay an incredible opportunity. It seemed as if an Immortal had passed by, and if he dared to approach, Divine Skills and magical Elixirs would be within reach, transforming him beyond the mortal coil without further ado.

But after all, he was no ordinary man; he had a foundation in cultivation and instantly recalled the boatman Old Qi's warning, understanding precisely what was going on.

This situation was akin to a phrase awakening someone from a dream: without knowing the truth, one could fall deeper and become ensnared, struggling helplessly in the trap of desire. But with knowledge of the facts, it was really not much to speak of—merely a peculiar spiritual fluctuation.

It had no offensive power.

When Hou Niao regained his composure, the celestial music had vanished from his ears, replaced by an indistinct howling with an odd rhythm, changing tempos. He understood this was because his cultivation had altered something within him, but for mortals, resisting such a temptation would be much more difficult.

He pushed open the boat window. In the vast night, even with his vision far surpassing that of ordinary people, he couldn't see clearly what was happening on the water's surface; beyond thirty feet, everything was shrouded in darkness. He saw nothing out of the ordinary on the water.

He could only rely on his hearing, yet the sound seemed to come from all directions—present before him, discernible behind, floating unpredictably around, with no sense of its distance.

Hou Niao drew his Yanling Blade, silently on guard, but with his current abilities, he was truly helpless; he would be fortunate just to protect himself, let alone entertain any fantasies about driving back or slaying these demons.

Daoists favor swords, officers commonly wield blades; after retiring from the Criminal Investigation department, he had no time to change his weapon, nor adopt the elegance associated with daoists; to his habits, the blade was more suitable. His philosophy as a public servant emphasized the importance of presence when drawing a blade, as anything less commanding would fail to subdue.

The sound persisted endlessly, and there was no activity on the few small boats nearby—evidently, the guests had heeded the warnings of the boatmen and stayed inside, rather than looking around curiously.

Old Qi and his son were covered by the cabin hatch, but Hou Niao knew from their breathing patterns that they weren't asleep; instead, they were on alert, waiting for the Water Demons to leave.

His gaze shifted to the larger ship not far away, where more than a hundred people were aboard. With such a variety of individuals, he wondered what unforeseen events might occur?

As he watched, a figure emerged from the deck of the large ship; a rich young master, walking straight ahead with purpose.

Old Qi had warned him that under the enchantment of the song, it was best not to move and that closing one's eyes and focusing the mind was the proper defense. It was easier for the voice to invade if you moved, which explained why no one on the large ship intervened. In times of danger, everyone was concerned only for themselves, which couldn't be said to be wrong.

Seeing this person about to step into the water, Hou Niao couldn't ignore them due to his many years of investigation experience. Disregarding whether he had the ability to intervene, he burst out of his cabin, shouting loudly while throwing the teapot on the table.

"Back, vile demon! How dare you openly commit violence and bewitch minds under the heavens of Anhe and Qian Kun!"

The teapot shattered at the feet of the man on the ship's deck, its crisp breaking sound carrying far into the night. It apparently interrupted the man's advance; he looked around bewildered, seemingly unsure why he was there.

At the moment of the teapot's shatter, a ripple moved swiftly beneath the water's surface next to the awning boat, heading straight for where Hou Niao stood. Despite having no experience in dealing with demons, as an expert in criminal investigation, he would not just watch the man's movements and forget that he too was on the water's surface.

No sooner had the teapot been thrown, his eyes began scanning the surrounding water vigilantly for any possible retaliation.

The wave arrived suddenly, and his response was lightning-fast. Something surged from beneath the water, but without even looking to see what creature emerged, he gripped the Yanling Blade with both hands and brought it down with all his might!

Amidst the turbulent waves, the blade struck a figure decked in scales and armor, but the sharp edge only made a shallow cut. It was not a deep wound!

Hou Niao's heart sank. Despite being prepared, it had come to this: his full force strike did not resolve the matter, which meant he was going to face trouble ahead.

The blade entered the monster's body, and its scream suddenly became shrill, the sound violently shaking eardrums, leaving everyone momentarily dazed and heavy-headed—that was the Water Demon's screech after being injured.

The screech was brief, fading as soon as it appeared, and old Qi and his son also charged out, each brandishing a harpoon!

"My dear guest, you were too rash!"

They feared this kind of reckless bravery most—the kind that fears neither heaven nor earth and, when one could just sleep through the night and continue the journey the next day under a clear sky, insists on offering unwarranted assistance!

They had no choice but to rush out because the Water Demon's revenge would not discriminate whether they were accomplices or not—it would not rest until its desires were satisfied. So, for the experienced father and son duo, taking up harpoons and fighting desperately was a reluctant necessity, not because they particularly wanted to help this kind-hearted guest.

What truly alarmed old Qi and his son was the appearance of several more ripples on the water's surface, rapidly approaching the U-shaped boat. Clearly, there wasn't just one Water Demon; there were several!

All three of them together were hardly a match for a single injured Water Demon—how could they possibly cope with several more?

The safest course of action would be to return to shore, but the mooring point was still seven or eight zhang away from the riverbank—how could they leap back?

Their adversary was a Water Demon, and even the most foolish person knew not to try swimming back—that would be no different from seeking death.

At this critical juncture, a clear whistle rose. The bow of the boat dipped, and a woman in plain clothing suddenly appeared, her slender fingers raised slightly, and flashes of silver light danced on the river's surface.

The water underneath started to boil as if something was struggling, and the Water Demon's cries were heard once again, but these were the wails of death.

A vast spread of blood appeared on the water's surface, and at the same time, the other ripples that had been advancing retreated rapidly, disappearing without a trace.

From beginning to end, the unworldly Hou Niao couldn't recognize what Daoist Skill the woman in plain clothing had used. To him, all this was still a bit beyond his reach.

Old Qi and his son were too shocked to speak, and Hou Niao felt a bit embarrassed; he had acted heroically only to be saved by a woman, which was somewhat hard to justify.

The woman in plain clothing glanced at him indifferently, "It's commendable to stand up for justice and pursue the Dao for the sake of the people. The sentiment is commendable, but one must have the ability to back it up, or else things will not go as intended and might even lead to more harm and death.

You didn't even know who you were trying to save, nor did you have any idea how many river spirits lurked beneath the water, yet you dared to draw your blade?

For the first time in his life, Hou Niao felt at a loss for words in front of a woman. He couldn't help it—it was indeed somewhat mortifying.

The woman simply observed him quietly, not overly reproaching him. After all, the choice to intervene was a rare quality in itself.

"Do you know why that rich man's son was bewitched?" she asked.

Hou Niao shook his head, "I do not know…"

Her voice was icy, "Because he's seen countless beauties! His heart was perverse, his mind filled with lewd thoughts—therefore, he deserved to die!"

Having said that, she didn't hesitate, her form flickering as she leaped as though having the breeze for wings. She barely touched the water before bounding back to the passenger ship, never once leaving her name from start to finish.

Hou Niao turned to old Qi and his son, "My apologies, it won't happen again. I'll double the fare when we return."

Crawling back inside the cabin, he realized in his heart that in the Cultivation World, he was unequivocally a newcomer: utterly weak and incapable of putting on the airs of a Criminal Investigator. In the Cultivation World, his official status was utterly useless.

In front of the window, lost in thought, the silent night was profound. Those water monsters, after being slashed this one time, dare not come back again. Just as he was immersed in melancholy, the sound of a zither drifted over from the direction of the passenger ship, as if possessing a calming power, bringing peace to his soul.

... The Taoist carrying a zither into the night, encounters illuminate the moon, discerning spoken words. Strumming once amidst the frost, all the merchants on the ship felt the calling of home.