[In the style of classical storybooks] [A blend of classical and vernacular Chinese] [Interspersed with poetry and verse]
Each tale in this book stands alone, with no connection to the others.
There are ghosts whose obsessions keep them from leaving, taking over homes in the world of the living;
There are people whose momentary lapses cause their grandfathers to turn into stiff corpses;
And there are Taoist priests who subdue dragons and tigers, displaying truly awesome might.
Leaving the monastery, the True Man saw the ferocious demon and showed no fear. He sneered, “You shaggy little beast! You’re nothing but a fur-covered, horned creature who got lucky and cultivated into a spirit. Instead of hiding away to cultivate and avoid calamity, you dare to strut about here?”
“I’m quietly practicing in this monastery. What business is that of yours? How dare you spout such insolence and insult the Taoist order! Today, I’ll fight you and settle once and for all what’s righteous and what’s wicked, who wins and who loses!”
The tiger demon flew into a rage and said nothing. It raised its steel spear and thrust it straight at the Taoist’s head. What a spear! Truly:
Its icy gleam startles stars and moon, its evil aura shakes the Dipper and the Ox.
It strikes for the throat to end a life, and challenges the master to test his skill.
Seeing the spear’s fierce approach, the True Man lightly raised his silver-thread horsetail whisk. The whisk was a treasure of the immortals; as he swung it, divine light burst forth, knocking the spear aside.
The demon was startled and thought, “This Taoist really does have some skill!”
The two began to fight before the monastery gate. One was a perfected Taoist, well versed in the Dao; the other was a ferocious tiger spirit, fierce and strong. The tiger demon’s steel spear whirled like the wind, striking high and low, left and right, every move meant to kill. The Taoist’s whisk flashed like lightning, blocking in front and behind, left and right, each movement a divine defense. Spear met whisk, whisk met spear, until:
Dust billowed and blotted out the sun; leaves fell in torrents to the hills by the stream.
They fought back and forth for thirty bouts, yet the demon could not overcome the Taoist.
These stories are entirely made up, nothing more than fanciful tales. Don’t take them as truth; just enjoy them as lighthearted entertainment.
This book is good and good-looking. It has the charm of a strange thing from hundreds of years ago, but also adds some modern thinking. This is a good new fantasy novel. Like, hope not to stop updating. [Top post][Top post][Top post][Top post][Top post][Top post]