Volume Two, Chapter Twenty-Two: Five Long Beards

“You’re cheating!” The Black-Horned Dragon King had barely found his footing when he shouted in a harsh voice.

Yi Bing glanced down, startled to find himself clutching a spear in his left hand—and another in his right! In the heat of the moment, he had acted on instinct, transforming his axe into a spear. He had nearly skewered the Black-Horned Dragon King clean through.

“I didn’t turn it into a cauldron!” Yi Bing retorted indignantly.

“I don’t care!” The Black-Horned Dragon King shrugged, and the clanging of metal erupted again. But this time, he had learned his lesson and spun in circles, shaking off the attack, forcing Yi Bing to swing his cauldron frantically this way and that, blocking with increasing desperation.

“Fall back!” Jin Guishan called urgently. Hong Kun nodded at once—they truly had no answer for those silver darts.

The four quickly huddled behind Yi Bing, retreating step by step toward the hall’s entrance. The Black-Horned Dragon King, relentless, gave chase, launching silver darts after them.

But as soon as they stepped outside the hall, Yi Bing noticed that the silver darts were coming slower, their metallic clatter less frequent. He paused, cautiously peeking out, and saw the Black-Horned Dragon King gasping, utterly helpless.

“Go on, shoot again!” Yi Bing teased. The Black-Horned Dragon King shook himself fiercely, and a fresh volley of clanging darts rang out, though much sparser than before.

“Again!” Yi Bing called, poking his head out when the sound ceased. The Black-Horned Dragon King’s eyes blazed, but he would not fire another dart.

“Are you out of ammo?” Yi Bing asked with mocking irony. Hong Kun and Jin Guishan exchanged a glance, then leaped out together, charging from left and right. The Black-Horned Dragon King met them with his spear.

Hong Kun and Jin Guishan dared not press too far, attacking from around the cauldron, ducking back whenever the Dragon King prepared to shake. Sure enough, after dozens of furious exchanges, the Black-Horned Dragon King managed only one more volley of silver darts, and then was spent. Seeing this, Yi Bing transformed his weapon back into a massive axe and charged forward with Bi Yi.

In moments, the Black-Horned Dragon King was overwhelmed, retreating in defeat. In the melee, his mask was swept from his face by Hong Kun’s sword.

“Oh!” The four cried out in unison. The Black-Horned Dragon King’s face was that of a carp—with five long whiskers!

“Oh! Enough! Come out, all of you!” Realizing he’d been exposed, the Black-Horned Dragon King clutched his face in dismay. Suddenly, the black armor on his back cracked like ice, each shard shooting outwards, transforming in a blink into a dozen identical Black-Horned Dragon Kings.

No one needed to say a word; Hong Kun and his companions turned and ran. The twelve Dragon Kings fanned out, obviously trying to surround them. Each one shook off silver darts, the clattering relentless. Yi Bing’s cauldron warped further, leaving only a narrow gap through which they could run.

Amid this tempest of metal, the four scrambled up the riverbank in utter disarray. Qi Yuanxiao and the others, long impatient, rushed over as the water surged—only to see a nearly circular cauldron emerge.

“Everyone, be careful!” Hong Kun shouted, but those on the shore were completely baffled.

Moments later, the river burst into whitecaps, and a dozen Black-Horned Dragon Kings surfaced together. The crowd on shore gasped in unison.

Jin Guishan sprang from the cauldron, raising a five-tiered pagoda. Forming seals and murmuring incantations, he aimed the pagoda’s window at the Dragon Kings, and six golden beams shot forth. But it was too late—a storm of silver darts rained down on the bank.

Seeing the golden lights, the lead Dragon King raised his spear. Instantly, the river shot upward, forming a wall of water that reflected the golden lights back at them. Fortunately, the group dodged in time, or they would have been sucked into the pagoda.

However, the pagoda did manage to absorb the silver darts, leaving the assembled demons stunned. He Lingchi frowned, drawing her horsetail whisk, which flicked out a thousand silver threads that pierced the water wall and wrapped around the spears of the demons.

“The wind is tight, retreat!” the lead Black-Horned Dragon King cried, releasing his spear and diving into the river. But with a thud, he crashed into a green, hardened shell. Looking up, he saw that all around was dry—the entire river was capped by a colossal tortoise shell.

With a single shake, the giant turtle sent the stunned Dragon Kings tumbling onto the shore. He Lingchi flicked her wrist, and her whisk cast aside the spears, binding up all the demons.

“Wait before collecting them!” Seeing Jin Guishan about to activate the pagoda, Hong Kun hurried to stop him. Jin Guishan understood, withdrawing the golden light at once.

“You carp demons, masquerading as dragons and oppressing the people—confess now, or I’ll take your souls!” Hong Kun thundered. The crowd was in an uproar until Bi Yi quickly explained the situation. Excitement lit the faces around them—these were the Five-Whiskered Carps!

“Hmph! Now that we’re in your hands, what is there to say? Kill us or spare us as you will!” The lead Black-Horned Dragon King remained defiant. For a moment, Hong Kun was at a loss for words.

“Senior brother, senior brother, let’s have roast fish for lunch!” Yi Bing couldn’t help but swallow hungrily. Over a dozen of them!

“No, no!” The Dragon Kings cried in unison, their dark fish faces turning even darker.

“How did you get those five whiskers?” Hong Kun, about to scold Yi Bing’s gluttony, was overcome by laughter. He stepped forward to remove their masks. Five long whiskers were clearly visible—braided, just like their master’s. The black carps exchanged nervous glances but said nothing.

“They’re just like our master’s! Even braided the same way!” Yi Bing pressed his broad face close.

“Your master?” The Black-Horned Dragon King’s eyes grew rounder.

“Hmph, my master! He’s got five whiskers—no, five long beards! Just like yours! That’s why I asked. If you answer honestly, I won’t roast you!”

“Is he not very tall, middle-aged, oddly dressed—half monk, half Daoist—and a bit... unhinged?” The Dragon King’s voice trembled.

“Yes, yes!” Hong Kun and Yi Bing’s voices shook as well.

“Senior brother! Quickly, brothers, pay your respects to senior brother!” The Black-Horned Dragon King called to his fellows, and they all kowtowed.

“What?” Hong Kun was so shocked his face turned pale.

“Do not be alarmed, senior brother. Allow your junior to explain!” The Dragon King raised his head. The crowd was utterly bewildered.

“We were born here in this river. When we came of age, we swam upstream along the Luo and Yi Rivers toward Dragon Gate Mountain, hoping to leap the Dragon Gate and become dragons. Others succeeded in a single bound, but after many attempts, we failed—earning only a black scar on our foreheads.” The Dragon King glanced sadly at his companions’ brows.

“Go on!” Hong Kun pressed, having no patience for their woes.

“Yes, senior brother!” The Dragon King continued, “We couldn’t accept our failure and debated finding a place to settle before trying again. As we searched, we found an old Daoist with five long beards standing on the riverbed, his lower half trapped by a giant mussel. Only his upper body was free, so we gathered around curiously.”

“Was he alive?” Hong Kun asked urgently.

“He was! At first, we thought him done for, but as we approached, he opened his eyes and spoke—in our fish tongue! We were shocked—someone alive underwater, speaking our language! We fired questions at him, but once he started talking, he wouldn’t stop...” The Dragon King glanced sheepishly at Hong Kun, who couldn’t help but smile wryly.

“He teased us for being foolish, said our foreheads were black and we still dreamed of leaping the Dragon Gate. We argued that persistence brings reward! He scoffed, said there was no reward, that becoming a dragon was nothing special—what was better than playing freely in the river? We said freedom was nothing compared to immortality. He retorted that immortality was nothing special, either! He was a mad old man...” The Dragon King paused, then smiled apologetically at Hong Kun, who waved for him to continue.

“We got mad and tried to leave, but he called us back, saying that though he couldn’t help us leap the gate, he could teach us the Dao of longevity. We were overjoyed. We knew we’d never succeed, but it was hard to let go. We begged him to take us as disciples, but he refused, saying his quota was full—not that we understood what he meant.” At this, Mo Yan couldn’t help but snort with laughter, earning a puzzled look from the Dragon King. Mo Yan quickly waved it off.

“Never mind, go on,” Hong Kun said, understanding well enough. Thankfully, their master had taken the gluttonous fool as a disciple, or they’d be kin to carp demons now.

“Oh! But the master said, while he couldn’t take us as disciples, he could leave us a mark. He tapped our foreheads, and we grew five long whiskers and could speak human language! But he insisted on braiding them like this.” The Dragon King patted his whiskers in dissatisfaction.

“And then?” Bi Yi pressed, growing anxious.

“This one... is she... senior sister?” The Dragon King asked nervously, knowing Daoists rarely took female disciples.

“Who’s your senior sister! Don’t call me that!” Bi Yi nearly leaped in fright.

“Then…” he began.

“Oh, enough! Just tell the story!” Bi Yi interrupted impatiently. In truth, as their master’s disciple, she was their senior sister.

“Alright, alright!” The Dragon King dared not press further. “From then on, we gathered around the master every day to hear his teachings. But he was a bit muddled—sometimes what he said made no sense, and we couldn’t ask questions, or he’d strike us. Luckily, his lower half was immobilized, or...” The Dragon King was so aggrieved he nearly wept, and was surprised to see Yi Bing’s eyes growing moist as well.

“He treated you that way too?” the Dragon King asked, voice trembling. Yi Bing nodded sympathetically.

“Go on!” Bi Yi quickly interrupted, seeing a tearful confession brewing between them.

“One day, as we headed toward the master, there was a thunderous crash. Looking up, we saw a giant hand plunging into the river. Before we could react, the waves knocked us out. When we awoke, the master was gone. We searched for half a month, but found nothing.”

“A giant hand? What did it look like?” Hong Kun’s face turned grim.

“It seemed like… but also not, it was only a fleeting glimpse before we passed out—just a vague impression.”

“Nothing at all?” Mo Yan pressed.

“Nothing—nothing at all!” the Dragon King insisted. Hong Kun breathed a long sigh of relief.

“Didn’t he tell you how he was trapped?” Bi Yi frowned.

“Uncle Master? Oh, no. He never even gave us his name! By the way, what is the master called?” The Dragon King turned to Yi Bing.

“Daoist Meng Hong,” Yi Bing replied, his face twitching.

“How did you end up here?” Hong Kun continued.

“With the master gone, we were at a loss. Fearing the giant hand might return, we decided to leave the dangerous area and return to our birthplace downstream.”

“You’re quite eloquent!” Mo Yan sneered.

“Heh, well, I once lived in a scholar’s fish pond,” the Dragon King replied, unabashed.

“Eloquent, my foot! You monsters, blessed by Uncle Master, why did you not cultivate properly, but instead brought harm here?” Mo Yan scolded.

“I…” The Dragon King collapsed in terror.