Chapter 24: No Fierce Tigers in the Mountains (Part 3): A Light Tap of the Toes on the Shoulder Part 1

The shock froze her in place, a bead of cold sweat trickling down her spine.

White Pupil noticed the change in her mood and lifted its head, wanting to peck at her knee to ask what was wrong. But before it could make that small motion, the gorilla suddenly charged!

The thud of its feet slamming into the ground shook the heavens and earth, leaving deep imprints with each step. The gorilla crashed through tree trunks and bushes in a frenzy, finally bursting into the moonlight. Its blood-drenched maw tore open as it let out a deafening roar.

Mu Qian Tan pressed one hand against White Pupil’s back and slapped the ground with the other. She twisted her body and flipped onto the crane’s back, saying curtly, “Up.”

White Pupil threw back its head with a shrill cry and beat its wings to take flight. The downward gust pressed the weeds flat and snuffed out the campfire. But they had barely risen a few feet when the gorilla reached them from below. It scooped upward with its only thick arm and grabbed White Pupil’s long leg.

That arm was as thick as a water bucket. With a slight squeeze, it could snap the crane’s leg right off. Mu Qian Tan frowned and waved her hand to store White Pupil away. The massive immortal crane dissolved into clusters of white flowing light that burrowed into the back of the woman’s neck.

Deprived of her mount, she naturally fell. Her toes tapped lightly on the big gorilla’s forehead, and she flipped over to land on his back.

Before she could steady herself, Mu Qian Tan unhooked Solitary Goose, swiftly turned, drew the bowstring, and loosed an arrow straight at the gorilla’s back.

The gorilla was already burly and robust. Day and night in this forest, it had been nurtured by spiritual power, and tough, coarse black fur had grown over its skin, lying flat like armor. The Ice Arrow slammed into it like water against a ship’s hull and shattered with a crisp crack.

The gorilla glanced at its empty hand, pounded its chest furiously, hopped in rage, and turned around with slow, stomping steps.

Smoke rose from the extinguished campfire, heightening the tension. Under the moonlight, the colossal beast across from her was fully visible.

His body was tall and massive, with thick muscles, a face crisscrossed with scars, and protruding sharp teeth. He was no easy opponent, no wonder Shang Shan had been beaten so badly.

Those pitch-black eyes reflected an icy blue silhouette. The gorilla paced back and forth a few times, as if confirming that this seemingly frail woman had no power to resist. Then it crouched low and charged again!

Li Biyuan was scared witless: ‘Damn it! Run away!!’

“…Shut up,” Mu Qian Tan said in a cold, sunken voice.

As the gorilla drew closer, in this moment of crisis, she suddenly summoned White Pupil again—but not fully. Instead, only a pair of wings unfolded from her back, as if she had sprouted white feathered wings of her own.

Mu Qian Tan crouched low. The wings spread wide and flapped, carrying her into the air. She dodged the gorilla’s charge and lightly landed on a massive tree.

The gorilla scrambled with hands and feet, gouging deep trenches in the ground before skidding to a halt. It had missed again. White vapor snorted from its nostrils, its eyelids twitching and head shaking in fury.

Mu Qian Tan steadied herself against the tree trunk and frowned in silence.

The arrow she had loosed in haste had reopened her wound. Blood flowed out, and a numb, stabbing pain stretched from her collarbone to her fingertips. Even if she doubled down on using the Power Gathering Gold Ring now, she couldn’t shoot a powerful arrow.

Moreover, even if she could, it would be hard to pierce his tough fur.

A demon’s strength was tied to its environment. Sparse spiritual energy couldn’t breed powerful beasts, and while Sweet Spring Mountain was a spiritual land, it wasn’t enough to raise a gorilla this ferocious. The other nearby peaks couldn’t either.

He wouldn’t have become like this for no reason. He must have inadvertently absorbed some of the spiritual power from that immortal who set up the magic array, making him this overpowered.

Her thoughts raced wildly. Several ideas formed and were discarded. That single second stretched into eternity. Then, the next second, inspiration struck. She reached up and plucked one petal from the Crane-Gazing Orchid Step-Shake in her hair.

The pale orange, diamond-shaped petal had thin, nearly transparent edges. This seemingly harmless soft petal had actually been honed to razor sharpness and contained deadly poison. A single cut to the skin could drop two horses.

She pinched the slender petal between two fingers and hooked it onto the bowstring. A newly formed Ice Arrow took the petal as its tip, brimming with immense power as she aimed at the gorilla’s chest—right at its heart.

The gorilla scoffed, pounding its chest hard with its palm to make dull thumping sounds, as if mocking her.

Mu Qian Tan closed one eye, her lips curving slightly. At the instant before releasing the arrow, she raised the bow higher and let go.

The Ice Arrow tore through the air with a whoosh, like a goose sword unsheathed, its trailing light brilliant. It plunged straight into the black gorilla’s eye. The eyeball burst with a “Puff!”, and the fluid froze onto the arrow shaft.

The poison spread instantly. The gorilla shrieked in agony, a heart-wrenching wail. It knew it had been tricked and sensed the numbness flooding its eye socket. Foreseeing its own death, it hammered the ground several times. Its muscles bulged, every hair stood on end, and it charged with suicidal resolve.

It wanted to take her down with it!

The black mountain of flesh slammed into the tree trunk with a bang, then again, snapping the thick trunk that took two people to embrace right in half.

The creaking wail of splintering wood mixed with the gorilla’s roars, shaking their minds and churning their blood. Mu Qian Tan coughed lightly twice and saw the tree tilting downward beneath her feet. She immediately spread her wings to fly away.

But this was her first time using White Pupil like this, and she wasn’t accustomed to it. The wings got caught in the dense branches!

In battle, every second counted, and she had to seize every moment. This snag cost her the best chance to escape. Even though she retracted the wings as fast as she could and flew from the spot, she still couldn’t put much distance between them.

Her wound throbbed worse. She landed unsteadily, nearly stumbling. The crisis loomed right behind her, closing in fast. Without time to catch her breath, she forced herself to turn, draw the bow, and prepare another shot.

But at that moment, she saw a white blob charging toward the rampaging mountain of mad flesh, as if trying to block it.

Mu Qian Tan looked in surprise. It was that rabbit who had fainted countless times from fear.

Such a small lump of white flesh wasn’t even enough to squash under one of the gorilla’s feet. What good would rushing in do?

Mu Qian Tan said speechlessly, “You’re really asking to die.”

She redirected the bow. The icy blade melted into flowing water and struck the rabbit, instantly freezing into ice that pinned it in place, unable to take another step.

The gorilla had already lost all reason in its enraged state. It flailed its limbs, shaking the earth, blind to the tiny white lump nearby as it barreled straight toward the hated woman.

Mu Qian Tan stood sideways, took a deep breath, raised her longbow again. A few drops of blood on her face were the only color on her otherwise coldly serene features.

The poison would still need some time to fully take effect. She reached to pluck another petal, planning to blind both of the gorilla’s eyes.

Just then, the sky seemed to whiten suddenly—but it was actually a pillar of blazing flames erupting from the side. Everywhere the surging fire passed turned to scorched earth. The gorilla was engulfed too, thrashing its lone arm wildly from the burns, slapping its face as its throat squeezed out shrill, agonized hisses.

Even the unburnt bushes withered and crisped, crushed underfoot by the newcomer. Shang Shan emerged from the woods, her hands full of gold, silver, and jewels.

After one blast of fire, she threw her head back and shoved a gold chain into her mouth. Her teeth crunched the gold particles and swallowed them down. She leaned back, took a deep breath until her chest swelled, then exhaled it all in a massive burst. The huge blaze lit up the entire forest, the light at its core so blinding it hurt to look directly at it.

The gorilla was forced back several steps. Knowing it was outmatched, it turned to flee. Shang Shan dashed to its side, seized the moment, flipped onto a tree trunk for leverage, leaped out, and kicked the gorilla in the side.

He instantly lost balance and toppled sideways. When he crashed into the ground, he didn’t stop—instead, he slid along with the fallen leaves, his massive body creating a thunderous boom on impact.

It was another hunter’s trap, even deeper and larger than the one that had caught Shang Shan earlier.

The stench of charred flesh and black smoke rose from the pit. Shang Shan approached the edge and peered down. Most of the flames had died out, but the glow revealed the gorilla’s face—foam bubbling from its mouth, eyes rolled back. It was already dead.

The weasel with a jade bracelet around her neck crawled over too. Confirming the big gorilla’s death, she whooped excitedly, “Great! Heaven has eyes at last! He’s finally dead!”

Shang Shan didn’t budge, and no excitement or joy showed on her face. She gazed at the gorilla’s dead face and murmured softly, “Why’d he die just like that? Did I kill him?”

“He was poisoned,” came a cold female voice from behind. “Don’t claim credit you don’t deserve. I killed him.”

Shang Shan turned to look. The woman stood a bit higher than her, bathed in starlight and moonlight that outlined her brows and eyes. Though bloodstained, she remained utterly calm.

A smile gradually spread across Shang Shan’s face. “I see. That makes sense. I just wanted to chase him into the pit and lock him up. I didn’t mean to kill him.”

Mu Qian Tan nodded casually, not understanding why this brain-damaged dragon cared so much about whether she’d killed with her own hands. “Mm.”

Shang Shan sidled closer and looked her up and down. “Are you hurt? Sorry, I just crawled out of the grave when I heard strange noises here. By the time I rushed over, I saw the gorilla was here too. Maybe he snuck after me. I didn’t think of that possibility. My bad for being careless.”

Sure enough, that was it. The gorilla couldn’t have just wandered here. It must have been provoked by this stupid dragon twice and followed out of spite to check things out. Who knew this trip would cost it its life.

Mu Qian Tan said, “Got it. That’s all.”

She was indeed covered in blood, but on closer inspection, it was almost all from the bite wound on her collarbone, still oozing blood pearls bit by bit. Shang Shan said softly, “Let me help you…”

Before she could finish, a wave of dry heaving bent her over. The girl grimaced in misery. “But these gold particles are so gross… They taste awful…”

The weasel rubbed her hands, each wrist adorned with a jade ring. She leaned in to sniff and stuck out her tongue in disgust. “No choice. They’ve been buried in the grave too long.”

Mu Qian Tan: “…”

So that’s what this brain-damaged dragon had been doing raiding tombs—looting burial goods.

Not a bad line of thinking, though. In terms of raw physical strength, she definitely couldn’t match the gorilla. But as long as it was still mortal flesh, it would fear fire. And in these deep mountains where no birds flew, the only likely spot for gold was in tombs.

Li Biyuan said: ‘She’s finally using her brain. I’m almost not used to it.’

Mu Qian Tan crossed her arms and said coolly: ‘Her true colors will show soon enough.’

After the dry heaves, Shang Shan squatted on the ground, sniffed the two handfuls of gold particles again, and retched once more. She fumed, “This is so unfair! Why bury all these good things underground? You can’t take any of it with you after death! Is no one else aware of that?”

Old Mother Hen emerged from the bushes too. Her long neck was draped in gold necklaces, their weight keeping her head low as she shuffled forward unsteadily.

The weasel said, “Too greedy! Watch your neck snap!”

Old Mother Hen clucked, “What do you know? I’m saving these for my eighteen kids. Someday when I take human form, I’ll have the money to take them to see the bustling cities.”

Mu Qian Tan glanced over, then turned away. “Robbing graves now? Not afraid it’ll deduct your merit?”

She was so scared of killing and worked so hard catching rats all for merit, but the world’s evils went far beyond that. Shang Shan blinked, shoving both handfuls of gold particles into the weasel’s arms. “Here, for you.”

The weasel said, “Hey!”

“I only did it as a last resort to save someone,” Shang Shan stood and patted the dust off herself, explaining to who-knows-whom. “Not on purpose. My mistake. Sorry.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Is that done?”

Shang Shan said, “Yeah… Wait, you mean here? Not yet. I want to break the array. Will Master come with me?”

Without waiting for an answer, Shang Shan continued, “I’m worried about you staying here alone. What if there’s more danger?”