Chapter Forty-Three: Wenshan’s Ferocity Surpasses Even That of Bandits

The girl pleaded, “Please save me, just get me out of here. That's all I ask—I can find my way home myself.”
Xu Wenshan paid no heed to her desperate requests; half questioning, half musing to himself, he said, “Why didn’t the spider demon poison you? Ah, that’s right—spiders have a habit of offering live prey as gifts to their mates. I suppose you were meant to be a present.”
Sometimes, people do not truly desire to find the answer—they simply need one. As long as the answer seems plausible, it brings them satisfaction.
Xu Wenshan stared at the girl for a while, as if pondering some dilemma, then said, “Very well, I’ll take you somewhere safe.”
Her tear-stained face twitched twice, as though she wanted to smile, but quickly reverted to its mournful expression. She nodded in silent grievance.
Neither Xu Wenshan nor Lu Ze noticed her odd demeanor.
The spider silk binding the girl was remarkably sticky and tough, impossible to unravel quickly. In this cave, at any moment, the spider demon might return to strike again—it was not wise to linger. Xu Wenshan hoisted the girl onto his back and said, “Let’s talk once we’re outside.”
Carrying the girl, Xu Wenshan and Lu Ze exited the cave. Outside lay a sheer cliff, and with the burden of the girl, climbing was no easy feat.
“Lu Ze, you climb up first, then help me from above when I come up.”
Lu Ze nodded and scaled the cliff with swift, agile movements.
Xu Wenshan secured the girl on his back, supporting her legs with one hand, while the other, strong as an iron claw, gripped the rocks. Using two legs and one hand, he began his ascent.
Halfway up, disaster struck. The girl's mouth suddenly hardened and turned black; two damp, barbed fangs emerged from her lips. She extended her “tongue”—a long, thin needle—aiming for the back of Xu Wenshan’s neck.
Xu Wenshan, carrying her, was completely unaware.
“Watch out!” Lu Ze shouted from the top, but it was almost too late.
The venomous stinger struck at Xu Wenshan’s neck in a flash, swift as lightning hitting a transmission tower.
But the tower remained unharmed, and the lightning shattered on impact.
“Ow! It hurts! It hurts so much!” The woman shrieked, her grotesque mouth gaping, the fangs snapping open and shut in a repulsive display.
Xu Wenshan gripped her neck, hoisting her upside down as he finished climbing the cliff, then flung the woman, still wrapped in spider silk, onto the ground.

Lu Ze asked anxiously, “Are you all right?”
Xu Wenshan touched the back of his neck and pulled out a sliver of stone; there was a shallow hole in it, as if pierced by a needle.
A wave of fear washed over him—thankfully, he had prepared in advance, condensing enough demon power into his stone armor. Otherwise, the attack would have shattered the stone and driven the stinger into his neck.
The woman lay on the ground and asked, “How did you know?”
“Fool, when I struck down with my blade, you were far too calm,” Xu Wenshan replied.
Though he said this, he hadn’t actually been certain she was a demon—his caution was merely habitual, always keeping a backup plan.
“You’re not human; you’re a monster,” the woman said bitterly.
“I’m not a monster—I cultivate demon arts. Have you heard of demon cultivators?” Xu Wenshan replied.
The woman turned her resentment toward Lu Ze. “You’re a monster too. Why won’t you help me?”
Lu Ze stood silent at the side.
Xu Wenshan said, “As a demon cultivator, I can provide you with ample meat and sustenance. Will you become my subordinate?”
The spider demon had never heard of demon cultivators and didn’t care to listen. She writhed, her face twisting into a ferocious mask, and the cocoon of spider silk burst open—she had transformed into a plump spider.
Lu Ze remarked, “You’ve achieved the Dao through your true form. That takes tremendous resolve.”
Lu Ze had forged a Dao body out of nothing, while the spider demon had cultivated her true form into a Dao body. Both paths were equally arduous, but the latter required even greater determination.
Cultivating the true form meant sacrificing an arm or a leg, and to imagine a spider with two human legs—how horrifying. There was a good chance she’d be killed before reaching her goal.
Yet, once accomplished, the benefits were considerable. Monsters who achieved the Dao through their true form could shift between their true and Dao bodies; if the Dao body was wounded, they could revert to their true form for recovery.
People often say a fox’s tail gives it away—that’s a fox demon who’s achieved the Dao through its true form but failed to fully transform, unable to rid itself of the tail.
When Lu Ze spoke the phrase “achieved the Dao through the true form,” a thought flashed through Xu Wenshan’s mind, though he couldn’t grasp it. For now, dealing with the spider demon was more pressing, so he set the thought aside.

“Spider demon, will you follow me and become my subordinate? I need your strength,” Xu Wenshan called to her.
“Bah! Humans are all liars!”
With that, the spider demon scuttled back toward the mountain, waving her eight legs and moving surprisingly fast.
Xu Wenshan had anticipated this outcome—not every monster was as docile as Lu Ze, easily persuaded by a few words.
He reached out and grabbed her two hind legs, dragging her back forcefully. The spider demon spat out a wad of silk, anchoring herself to a rock ahead, and clung to the silk with her front legs.
Xu Wenshan held her back legs, she clung to the silk, and the silk stuck to the stone—it was like a tug-of-war, a striking scene.
Xu Wenshan said to Lu Ze, “Keep this creature in check!”
Lu Ze leapt onto the spider’s back, pressing her head to the ground. Her fangs snapped open and shut against the earth, as if she wanted to speak.
Xu Wenshan released her back legs, dusted off his hands, approached the spider, and formed several seals. He began reciting the “Reverse Soul Mantra” from the Summoning Art.
The “Reverse Soul Mantra” originated from a passage in the Daoist Canon’s Rebirth Sutra. When powered by spiritual force, it could release souls. Three thousand years ago, demon cultivators discovered that reciting this passage with demon power subdued monsters and spirits, turning the Rebirth Sutra into the “Reverse Soul Mantra.”
As Xu Wenshan began chanting, the spider demon’s head swayed painfully from side to side. But Xu Wenshan persisted, nagging in her ear like a relentless monk. After a while, the spider demon foamed at the mouth and fainted.
Xu Wenshan wiped his brow, looked up, and saw Lu Ze pale and nearly collapsing atop the spider.
He slapped his own forehead. “Because it subdues all non-human monsters, Lu Ze is affected too? …Makes perfect sense. Maybe a bit too much sense.”
Xu Wenshan lifted Lu Ze, carried her to the shade of a tree, and let her rest.
On the other side, Xu Wenshan turned to the unconscious spider demon, clenched his fists so that his knuckles cracked.
To have caused Lu Ze such misery—there was no reason to show mercy to this monster now.