After returning to their impromptu campsite, Gustave dispelled his electromagnetic barrier while Simu restored his abducted client to the formation. Soon the peculiar Corpse Express was rolling again, carrying them away from the haunted forest and its lingering supernatural threats.
What the three travelers couldn't know was that roughly an hour after their departure, another figure arrived at the scene of Lin Jiu's decisive action against the fox spirit.
The newcomer was breathtakingly beautiful in the way that only supernatural beings could achieve—perfect features framed by cascading black hair, a curvaceous figure draped in flowing red silk that seemed to ripple with its own inner fire. Most striking of all were her eyes: large, luminous, and colored like ripe peaches, with an hypnotic quality that could entrance mortal men with a single glance.
"Tsk, tsk," the woman murmured, examining the fox spirit's remains with a mixture of disdain and genuine sorrow. "Some newly transformed little sister, barely able to hold human form, and she dared to steal from authentic Maoshan practitioners? Death was inevitable, the foolish child."
With a graceful wave of her hand, a mirror materialized from thin air—its surface like still water reflecting moonlight. Images began playing across its surface: the entire sequence of Lin Jiu's swift execution of the fox demon, viewed from multiple supernatural perspectives.
"Nevertheless," the woman continued, her voice taking on a harder edge, "regardless of which family you came from, you were still a member of my fox clan. Today I, Tu Shanyan, have encountered this injustice. No matter which sect these mortals represent, they will provide me with a proper explanation."
The ground beneath the fox spirit's body cracked open with a sound like breaking stone. Earth swallowed the remains gently, providing final rest for the foolish young demon. As Tu Shanyan turned to leave, her silk robes fluttering in a wind that touched nothing else, the faint outline of six magnificent tails flickered behind her like shadows cast by firelight.
Had Lin Jiu witnessed this display, he would have immediately recognized the catastrophic level of threat they now faced. A six-tailed fox demon represented power not seen in the mortal world for over a thousand years—the kind of supernatural entity that belonged in the legendary realm of immortals and gods.
Meanwhile, the three oblivious travelers continued their journey aboard Simu's innovative transportation system. The rhythm of ting-step, ting-step carried them through the remaining hours of darkness as the eastern horizon gradually began to lighten with approaching dawn.
"We'll need to find shelter for the day," Simu announced as the first pale streaks of morning appeared above the mountain ridges. "My clients require darkness for proper preservation, and frankly, I could use some rest myself after tonight's... adventures."
They discovered a suitable cave system carved into the mountainside—dry, spacious, and with multiple chambers that could accommodate both the living and the temporarily animated dead. Simu performed the necessary rituals to return his clients to proper dormancy while Gustave and Lin Jiu established a simple camp with their travel supplies.
This pattern continued for five days and nights: resting in whatever shelter they could find during daylight hours, then resuming their supernatural locomotive journey once darkness provided proper cover for corpse-driving activities. The landscape gradually changed from the rolling hills around Renjia Town to more rugged mountain terrain as they approached the provincial border.
"We're nearly there," Simu announced on their final evening of travel, obvious excitement creeping into his voice. "My dojo lies just ahead—you'll find it quite impressive, I think!"
The location, when it finally came into view, was indeed striking. Two modest but well-maintained buildings sat in a natural clearing surrounded by towering peaks on three sides, with a crystal-clear stream meandering between them. Ancient pine trees created a natural windbreak, while carefully tended gardens suggested long-term habitation despite the apparent isolation.
"Taoist Simu," Gustave said admiringly as he took in the serene mountain vista, "you've chosen a truly blessed location. The qi flows beautifully here—peaceful, yet alive with natural spiritual energy. This is exactly the kind of environment that nurtures cultivation."
Simu preened visibly at the compliment. "Ha! Merci beaucoup, Brother Gustave! I must admit, I have excellent taste in real estate. The moment I saw this valley, I knew it was destined to be my home."
What Simu didn't mention—and what Lin Jiu diplomatically ignored—was that his "excellent taste" had been significantly influenced by the fact that this particular blessed location had been unclaimed land, requiring no purchase price whatsoever.
"The nearest village is over thirty li away," Simu continued proudly as they disembarked from the Corpse Express. "Perfect solitude for serious Taoist practice, with absolutely no mundane distractions."
He gestured toward the second building with considerably less enthusiasm. "Unfortunately, some Buddhist monk had the same idea shortly after my arrival. We've been neighbors for nearly two decades now, though I wouldn't exactly call our relationship... harmonious."
The rivalry between the Taoist and Buddhist practitioners had become legendary in supernatural circles—not because of any great theological dispute, but simply because two strong-willed hermits with opposing philosophies made for naturally contentious neighbors.
"Jiale!" Simu called out as they approached his dojo's main entrance. "Open the door! Your master has returned with honored guests!"
Silence.
"Jiale?" He knocked more forcefully, the sound echoing off the mountain walls. "Jiale, I know you're in there!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Still no response. Simu's face began reddening with embarrassment as his prestigious guests witnessed his apparent inability to rouse his own disciple.
"That boy," he muttered through gritted teeth, "sleeping like the dead while his master travels the dangerous roads..."
Rather than continue the humiliating display, Simu simply punched through the paper window covering, reached inside to unlock the door, and strode into his own dojo with as much dignity as he could muster.
The scene that greeted them confirmed his suspicions. Jiale, a young man of perhaps eighteen with the kind of innocent face that suggested either great virtue or spectacular naivety, was slumped in a wooden chair, snoring peacefully despite the racket his master had been making outside.
"Ah," Simu said with deceptive sweetness, his smile becoming distinctly predatory, "so while your master risks life and limb escorting clients through demon-infested wilderness, you enjoy peaceful slumber in perfect safety. How... touching."
Gustave exchanged a glance with Lin Jiu, both recognizing the danger signs in Simu's overly pleasant tone.
"Senior Brother, Gustave," Simu continued with elaborate courtesy, "please forgive this shameful display. My unfilial disciple has grown far too comfortable with peaceful living. Clearly, a lesson in proper respect is overdue."
"Junior Brother," Lin Jiu began diplomatically, "perhaps—"
"No, no," Simu interrupted, already rummaging through his equipment. "Some mistakes require immediate correction."
He distributed small bamboo rods to several of his corpse clients, then began casting the spell that would animate them for disciplinary purposes. The incantation was complex, designed to make the preserved bodies respond to specific vocal triggers.
"Listen carefully," he commanded the animated corpses, "anyone who cries 'Aiya!' receives a thorough beating. Anyone who makes that sound will be your target."
Lin Jiu sighed and quietly retrieved a container of medicinal ointment from his travel pack, knowing from experience how these situations typically concluded.
Gustave settled back to observe what he suspected would be a classic example of poetic justice in action.
Jiale, awakened by his master's increasingly loud preparations, kept his eyes closed and regulated his breathing to maintain the pretense of sleep. Years of experience had taught him that Simu's disciplinary sessions were best endured through stubborn silence.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
The bamboo rods struck his shoulders, arms, and legs repeatedly, but Jiale remained grimly quiet, biting his tongue to avoid giving his master the satisfaction of a reaction.
After several minutes of futile beating, Simu grew frustrated with his disciple's stoic endurance.
"Aiya!" he exclaimed in exasperation, "Master hits you and you don't even cry out?"
The moment the trigger word left his lips, every animated corpse in the room turned toward him with mechanical precision.
"Wait," Simu said with dawning horror, "I didn't mean—"
THWACK!
Twenty bamboo rods struck simultaneously as the spell he'd cast turned his own clients against him. Unable to distinguish between master and target, they surrounded Simu and administered the thorough beating he'd originally intended for Jiale.
"AIYA! AIYA!" Simu shrieked as the rods rained down, each exclamation only encouraging the corpses to strike harder.
"Junior Brother!" Lin Jiu rushed forward, quickly dispelling the animation spell and pulling the battered Simu clear of his overzealous clients.
"Ow, ow, ow," Simu moaned, curled into a protective ball and nursing multiple bruises. The irony of his situation was not lost on anyone present.
"Master!" Jiale leaped from his chair with genuine concern, "I'll get medicine immediately!"
He started toward the door, only to find Gustave standing there with Lin Jiu's medicinal supplies already in hand.
"Here," Gustave said kindly, "your Uncle Yimei's special treatment for injuries caused by falls and... disciplinary mishaps."
"Thank you, honored master!" Jiale accepted the ointment gratefully, not yet realizing that the helpful young man was actually a peer of his own master.
"Ai, Jiale," Simu wheezed as his disciple helped him to a chair and began applying medicine to his wounds, "you're such a good boy... when it suits you."
"Junior Brother," Lin Jiu said unsympathetically, "you brought this entirely upon yourself. Perhaps next time you'll think before casting spells in anger."
"Hmph!" Simu winced as Jiale worked on a particularly tender bruise. "Jiale, at least thank your Uncle Yimei for speaking on your behalf!"
"Thank you, Uncle Master! Thank you!" Jiale bowed repeatedly, grateful for any ally in his ongoing struggles with Simu's volatile temper.
"I must say," Gustave interjected with a warm smile, "Jiale strikes me as a very dedicated disciple, Taoist Simu."
"Jiale," Simu commanded, seizing the opportunity despite his pain, "properly greet Master Gustave!"
The young man's eyes widened as he realized the helpful stranger was actually another master-level practitioner. His face flushed with mortification as he considered how his behavior must have appeared to such an distinguished guest.
"Honored Master Gustave," he said with a deep bow, "this unworthy disciple humbly begs your forgiveness for any disrespect!"
As the comedy of errors concluded and proper introductions were finally made, Gustave couldn't help but appreciate the domestic chaos that seemed to follow Simu wherever he went. The master-disciple relationship between the proud Taoist and his well-meaning but occasionally negligent student provided endless entertainment.