Chapter 96: Hell in the Pot (Part 5): Aaaah, Just Die Already Part 1

That giant beast initially appeared as a shadow, hazy in the distance, outlined only by a sliver of moonlight—utterly terrifying. People on the street felt the ground shake beneath their feet and heard the slapping of giant paws on the pavement. The music that had echoed through Pot City’s skies for days abruptly stopped. Performers, spectators, people in the buildings and on the streets—all froze in unison and slowly turned toward the source of the noise.

Time seemed to slow. The streets were decked out with lanterns and decorations. Above the hazy glow of the lights, two blazing eyes like molten lava appeared. The crowd gaped in shock before finally erupting into screams. From frozen stillness, they surged into chaotic frenzy—shoving, crowding, falling and scrambling back up. Some were trampled to death on the spot. In an instant, tragedies unfolded everywhere.

Amid the street-wide pandemonium, four bristling black paws crashed forward one after another. The massive black dog fully revealed itself under the warm red glow. She gaped her huge maw, fangs glinting coldly, red tongue lolling over her teeth as foul-smelling drool dripped steadily down. Anyone it touched immediately passed out.

With one paw, the black dog flattened several people, but her speed didn’t slow. Her enormous, burly frame smashed through buildings on both sides of the street. Screams rippled outward like waves from her flanks. Shang Shan pressed against a window, climbed onto the sill, and waved as she shouted, “Don’t run around wildly! Everyone, hide in the alleys!”

After yelling, she leaped straight down from the sill. A flower float had just passed below, but now it lay overturned in the distance amid the chaos. Shang Shan hugged her arms to her chest, rolled forward onto the float, then tumbled across its roof.

Her momentum unchecked, she pushed off the ground and dashed toward the black dog. At the end of the float, she leaped high over the panicked crowd, grabbed a rope strung with lanterns and decorations, and swung from one to the next—right into a head-on clash with the oncoming black dog.

That face was nearly bigger than her entire body, but Shang Shan showed no fear. The instant the black dog lunged to bite, she planted her foot on its nose and rebounded upward. The empty snap of the black dog’s jaws was crisp and raspy—chilling to the bone. The girl twisted her waist midair and whipped a wind-charged kick at the black dog’s eye.

It struck true on the right eye. With a squelch, the eyeball burst. The black dog roared from deep in her throat and toppled sideways, crashing into a roadside building in an earth-shaking rumble.

Shang Shan retracted her leg and landed, but she didn’t notice the scattered brick fragments on the ground. Her foot hit something round and slick; she lost balance and toppled backward, landing on her butt with a thud.

Every second counted in battle. She wanted to scramble up quickly, but the lingering effects of blood loss hadn’t faded. Her vision spun dizzily. One moment, the black dog was buried in rubble; the next, it charged again!

Shang Shan widened her eyes as the black-red maw flashed before her. Cold sweat beaded on her nape. Pure muscle memory made her roll right. The deafening snap of jaws rang in her ears—she had dodged!

But the next strike landed. Seeing her bite miss again, the black dog swung her forepaw in an arc and smashed the girl. Shang Shan shot like a poisoned arrow into a pile of ruins, kicking up thick clouds of dust.

The impact brought down a teetering building. Wooden debris rained down like hail. Shang Shan was buried. In her haze, she heard the crack of bones, though she couldn’t tell from where. Pain crashed over her like a tsunami, surging deep into her body. Bones and flesh shifted forcibly in multiple places.

Master… Where was Master…

One building collapsed completely, and for a long while, Shang Shan heard nothing beyond the destruction. She was already weakened from severe blood loss; this blow hit extra hard. Strength drained from her wounds. She couldn’t even muster the will to rise, reduced to murmuring “Master” amid the explosive agony in her head.

Darkness enveloped her eyes, warm blood trickling down her face. She called out several times, blacked out, then snapped awake. She thought she’d been unconscious for ages, but it was only an instant. Burning with anxiety, she suddenly heard someone calling her name amid the oppressive gloom.

Nearby rubble shifted aside. Light finally pierced through, illuminating half of Tan Que’s face. She stood on the jagged breach, frantic as she reached in. “Shan Big Sis? Are you in here?”

Shang Shan cleared her head a bit, swallowed a mouthful of blood, and rasped, “Here! Step back a little—I’ll come out right now!”

“Okay!” Hearing her voice steadied Tan Que’s heart. She retreated instantly to give her space.

Shang Shan clenched her fists and channeled spiritual power, compressing it like a coiled spring before erupting in a boom. The debris pinning her blasted outward. Freed, she opened her mouth to speak—but her pupils shrank!

Tan Que stood a short distance away, holding Lingdang in one hand. Her face was smeared with grime—disheveled, but she sighed in relief at seeing Shang Shan emerge. That relief didn’t last. Goosebumps prickled her nape; she whipped her head around to see the black dog’s scarlet throat looming.

“Tan…” Shang Shan lunged forward with a desperate grab, her voice shrill. “Tan Que!”

Even at flash-like speed, the black dog—closer and swifter—clamped her jaws and swallowed Tan Que whole with a gulp, tossing her head back.

Shang Shan grasped at empty air, touching only afterimages. She stared at her hand, a stab of pain in her chest. Looking down, she saw the bell Lingdang had thrown just before being eaten.

She clutched the writhing, shrieking Lingdang tight, gritted her teeth until her eyes nearly burst, and smashed a fist into the black dog’s belly. “You man-eating demon! Give her back!”

But the black dog dodged nimbly without retaliating. After all that noise and destruction, she seemed satisfied with just one meal. She bounded away over the ruins! Then a woman’s voice cried from behind, “Xiao Ling!”

The black dog halted abruptly, as if yanked by a leash—but only for a moment before fleeing into the darkness again.

Shang Shan’s emotions surged too wildly; she spat up blood. The snapped tension string brought eerie calm. She didn’t chase immediately but held the near-maddened Lingdang, intending to turn and find her master. She needed stronger help— she wasn’t a match for that demon!

Just as she turned, she saw Qiu Shui in a panic, chasing after the black dog. She hurriedly grabbed her. “Sister Qiu! What are you doing?”

Qiu Shui, beside herself, said, “She… that monster—why does she have Xiao Ling’s jade pendant?”

The woman tremblingly pulled the jade pendant from her collar. It was clearly a matching pair. “This thing should’ve been gone for years…”

Shang Shan wiped blood from her eyelids and examined the thumb-sized jade pendant. “Sister Qiu, is that true?”

Qiu Shui’s voice quavered on the verge of breaking. “Yes, it’s true—I saw it clear as day. Right there on that dog’s forehead. But how did it end up with her?”

Shang Shan closed her eyes, recalling. Not long ago, she’d kicked the black dog’s face up close. Now, piecing together the details from that fleeting glimpse, she seemed to remember a flash of green. What Qiu Shui said was very likely true!

Her sister Qiu Ling had died fighting the Three Venerables. The jade pendant should’ve been buried with the body—unless…

Shang Shan asked, “Where were those people from the stele buried—the ones who passed away?”

Qiu Shui clutched the jade pendant, uneasy. “Nowhere.”

Shang Shan repeated, “Nowhere?”

Qiu Shui said, “Xiao Xian said they were all killed by the Three Venerables—smashed…” She trailed off, reluctant, before adding with a sob, “Smashed to bits. Families couldn’t bear to see, so no bodies, no burials—just that stele.”

Shang Shan’s heart pounded. A terrifying suspicion flashed in her mind.

This… She had to ask Master.

She raked her hair, fingers coming away slick with red. Her hair was soaked in blood, clumped in strands; her clothes bloomed with dark stains. Buried in the rubble earlier, she’d surely sustained heavy damage, but no time to check. A quick bandage to keep fighting would do. Suddenly, halting music resumed.

She looked around. The performers—freshly escaped from peril, faces etched with terror, clothes and hair disheveled, instruments dented—paled as they blew, fingers slipping on the holes. Yet they performed fervently, eyes fixed skyward, tears streaming to wash away the filth and dust.

Shang Shan couldn’t believe it. Performing at a time like this? For what?

She recalled the exhausted performers she’d seen fleeing the government office—no rest for ages. Back then, it was for the Play Pot Festival. But now? Plenty still buried under ruins, fates unknown. Why wouldn’t they stop?

Was this something they had to do?

As if reading her confusion, Qiu Shui tamped down her shock and explained shakily, “Because they want Xiao Xian’s protection.”

The crowd, scattered by the black dog, finally stirred. Some shouted to rescue others; some knelt wailing; some cried to their protective talismans for Xiao Xian’s salvation. Only the music swelled, dancers amid the melody weeping freely.

Shang Shan slowly turned her eyes back. “Through performances?”

Qiu Shui said, “Yes.”

It was baffling and bizarre, but she couldn’t waste time unraveling it now. Save people first, ask later. In her peripheral vision, a graceful black shadow approached. She turned—Master had arrived.

The woman with her aloof, icy demeanor strode from the ruins, unaffected by the surrounding cries, steps steady, gaze forward, detached from it all. As if nothing could pique her interest, earn her pity, or catch her favor.

Shang Shan watched her, watched the faint glow of dying candles on her form, watched her face grow ever colder and more pitiless under the moonlight, watched her utterly indifferent expression. An irrepressible spark ignited in her chest and blazed skyward!

Xiao Xian was atop the high mountain; from her golden pill throne, the round cave overlooked all of Pot City. From her vantage, she’d long seen the devastation below—but hadn’t appeared. She was clearly standing by as a guardian immortal!

But how many such bystanding immortals were there?

Mu Qian Tan stepped on a sharp stone, wincing faintly at the sting. “Such a commotion.”

Beside her foot, a hand stuck out from under wooden planks, still twitching, drenched in blood. Mu Qian Tan glanced at it, brushed dust from her sole, and walked on.

Li Biyuan said, ‘Oh god, this scene shocks me no matter how many times I see it…’

Mu Qian Tan said, “Quite the spectacle.” More impactful than Prosperous Joy Workshop.

Li Biyuan hesitated. “Sister Tan, don’t you feel anything at all?”

Not far off, the girl who was nearly a bloody mess stared fixatedly this way, her gaze a bit off. Mu Qian Tan said, “Like what?”

Li Biyuan said, ‘Like… so many died in one go—heartbreaking or whatever. Don’t you feel a thing? And I didn’t expect this. I thought you’d at least save one or two, but you really just watched them die?’

“Anyone here need saving?” Mu Qian Tan stepped over several bodies on the ground and approached the pair. She finished the second half of her sentence mentally: ‘Tan Que got plot-dragged away—she won’t die. The others were doomed anyway.’

She vaguely recalled the original plot glossing over this, but it did mention heavy casualties. Li Biyuan nearly choked. ‘But if you acted, lots wouldn’t have to die, and the plot could still advance…’

‘If you wanna fight or save people, do it yourself. Don’t remote-command me,’ Mu Qian Tan frowned irritably. ‘And it’s weird. I’ve got a tougher fight later—why waste energy on them?’

‘T-they don’t even have names. Not even cannon fodder, not even the random NPCs you mentioned before. Strictly speaking, they’re not even people. A dog’s got more screentime than them. Dying here is fitting—they fulfilled their “casualties” quota in the book.’

Fulfilling the book’s “deaths and injuries” task.

Li Biyuan seemed speechless, only managing after a pause, ‘Sister Tan, you really can’t say it like that. You’ll find out someday…’

“Why didn’t you act?!”

Mu Qian Tan thought it was Li Biyuan questioning her, but looking down, it was the girl’s eyes—blazing fiercely through the blood—roaring, “You were in the building too! You’re stronger than me! You must’ve known something was coming even earlier! You could’ve struck the moment you saw her! Why didn’t you?!”

Her voice trembled violently, ends shattering, yet resilient, laced with raging fury that threatened to consume her whole. Mu Qian Tan looked down at her calmly, unangered. “I’m here incognito. If I acted, it’d expose me easily…”

“Just for that reason?” Shang Shan interrupted her and said angrily, “Just for something like that? You just watched others die?”