Chapter 20: Alliance
332 Words
When Shen Moyan came out of the milk tea shop, it was dark.
He stood by the road, three voices arguing in his head.
"Can't kill him." Zhang Sanfeng said. "That's a two-thousand-year-old demon, unfathomable cultivation. You've only drawn two strokes. Going down would be suicide."
"Must kill him." Zhu Quan said. "If she hadn't told us, we wouldn't know what that thing at the bottom is. Now we know, we have to deal with it before it goes completely crazy. If it breaks out, it won't stop at forty-seven people."
"This humble one agrees with Zhu Quan." Wang Qizhen said. "But Zhang Sanfeng is also right—going down now is too dangerous. At least draw a few more strokes."
Shen Moyan listened to them argue, saying nothing.
He was thinking about what Liu Hanyan said at the end:
"I'll help you draw charms. I have fox clan cultivation inside me too—I can lend it to you."
"Why?"
"Because he's my grandfather. He had my father, my father had me. His sins are mine too."
Shen Moyan returned to the shop, opened the safe, took out the Purple Tenuity Divine Weapon.
He flipped to the last page, looking at the incomplete charm—the nine-stroke head, only the first three strokes complete, the remaining six empty.
"Zhu Quan," he asked, "can you teach me the remaining six strokes?"
"Yes. But it'll take time. Stroke by stroke, can't rush."
"How long?"
"Normal pace, one stroke per year. Fastest pace, one stroke every three months. If you push yourself, maybe one stroke per month."
Shen Moyan calculated.
Six strokes. Six months.
Six months from now, he could go down and face that two-thousand-year-old demon that had eaten forty-seven people.
He looked at his hands. The black on his fingertips had reached the second knuckle.
One stroke, one obstacle. After nine strokes, would he still be himself?
He didn't know.
But he knew that thing at the bottom couldn't wait much longer.
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