Libationer Barrett strode out, wrapped in a gray mink cloak, clutching a wine gourd half as tall as himself. He tipped it back for a deep swig, belched, then tossed the gourd to the Jadehide Ox. "Who dares steal from my vegetable patch? Got guts, huh?"
The Jadehide Ox gulped down a mouthful of wine, belched, and snorted out a cloud of grass and booze. "No clue. Just some thick-headed brat with a fox tagging along."
Libationer Barrett squinted, grinning. "So it was that kid from the Great Ruins, huh? Dared to mess with my Moo-Moo and even swipe my veggies—pretty cocky, aren’t we? Got it. You keep an eye on the garden here, make sure no one else nicks my crops."
Quinn Shepherd made his way back to the front of the mountain, touching the bruises on his face, his expression shifting gloomily. "No way I can beat that ox, but I could drug it and knock it flat. Apothecary always said: if you can't win head-on, poison them. Tie up its hooves, and it won’t be able to fight back... Patriarch, what are you doing here?"
Up ahead, Quinn spotted a simple grass-roofed courtyard—just a couple of rooms, tucked against the mountain and beside the water, quiet and tidy. The Young Heavenly Demon Patriarch was out in the yard, washing dishes, probably after a meal, with a white-haired elder scrubbing the wok with a loofah next to him.
Quinn recognized the old man—he was the Enforcer Elder from the Cult of the Heavenly Demon.
Even though the Young Heavenly Demon Patriarch was the Grand Rector of the Imperial Academy, holding a lofty position, he didn’t have any servants or maids—just the Enforcer Elder for company.
The Patriarch and the Enforcer Elder saw Quinn and Lina the Spirit Fox but didn’t get up, just kept busy with their chores. The Enforcer Elder smiled, "The Patriarch’s always lived here. Young Cult Master, you’ve never visited before?"
Quinn shook his head, bowed respectfully from outside, then stepped in.
The Enforcer Elder greeted Quinn, who quickly returned the gesture, then walked over to the basin and helped the Patriarch wash dishes, grinning. "Patriarch, how come you’re so poor when you’re the Grand Rector?"
The Young Heavenly Demon Patriarch grabbed a towel and wiped his hands. "I’m used to living easy—I can’t stand those big, flashy palaces. The Enforcer Elder doesn’t usually stay here, either. It’s only now that I’m old I asked him to move in, making him suffer with me."
Quinn glanced at the Enforcer Elder, who smiled. "I just wanted some peace and quiet. This place is perfect for that."
The Patriarch laughed, "Young Cult Master, after you take the throne, I’ll need to borrow the Enforcer Elder for a few more years—let him wander with me a bit. When I die, he can collect my remains. Our Holy Cult leaves no bodies behind—when a man dies, it’s like a lamp going out, just a handful of ash. The Elder will bring my ashes back then."
Quinn fell silent, a pang of sadness in his chest.
Even heroes grow old.
No matter how mighty—Village Chief or the Young Heavenly Demon Patriarch—they couldn’t escape aging, sickness, and death. Time would wear away all their passion and pride, until they were nothing but bones beneath the earth.
The Patriarch glanced at him. "There’s an old monk and a young monk down at the foot of the mountain."
Quinn nodded, finished washing the dishes, and dried his hands with a burst of Vermilion Bird qi. The Enforcer Elder hung up the wok, brought over a tea table, and started making tea. Lina the Spirit Fox hurried over to help.
"Yeah, I heard the monks at the foot came from Great Thunderclap Temple. I went to take a look—the old monk I know, met him back in the Great Ruins. Grandpa Mark said he’s his senior brother, called Jingming or something."
Quinn thought for a moment, not sure about the name. "Never met the young monk before, but he’s supposed to be a Buddha-Child from Great Thunderclap Temple."