Sword Rises with the Five Elements: Chapter 101, The Scholar Zhu Zan

The law of the Great Qian Dynasty dictates that a Demon Slayer’s rank is determined solely by their achievements, not by the depth of their cultivation. Those who possess high cultivation but hold low rank are mostly honorary appointees. Many such individuals retreat into the deep mountains to pursue a path of detachment. Others simply dislike becoming entangled in the causal webs of the mundane world, preferring to slay only great demons and refusing to handle trivial matters like solving crimes, suppressing hauntings, or performing rituals.

Conversely, those with low cultivation but high rank are consistently revered by the common people. In these times, as demons and evil spirits arise everywhere, many of those who fight and bleed for the realm emerge from this group.

Caught between these two poles are those like Huang Bao, mostly Confucian scholars constrained by rules and rituals, which prevents them from easily breaking out of the mental cages they have built for themselves. Huang Bao is currently at the Ethereal Realm’s Great Perfection; his fierce, savage appearance cannot conceal a heart bound by rigid ideology. In the process of their disguise, he has become Su Ye’s rough-hewn subordinate. Yet, when it comes to professional domains—tracking trails, conducting surveillance, investigating corpses, or searching for clues—this experienced Demon Slayer is like a Kun-peng returning to the sea, displaying immense capability. This is precisely why Su Ye chose him to accompany him to Youruo City.

Light rain greeted the spring, and the eaves dripped like tears. Huang Bao, wearing a bamboo hat, materialized by the window.

"After several days of tracking, I have mapped out the movements of the Confucian scholar Zhu Zan," Huang Bao said, removing his dry bamboo hat, placing it on the table, and downing a bowl of wine in one gulp. Seeing that Su Ye remained silent, he asked, "What have you been doing these past few days?"

"Trying to refine medicinal pills according to the formula in the scroll. However, the production process described is vastly different from standard alchemy, and I have yet to succeed."

Huang Bao laughed and scolded, "You assign a senior to track a target while you stay in the inn refining pills and cultivating. I must say, you were born to be a commander."

Su Ye set down his wine bowl and smiled. "Diverting the disaster elsewhere to avoid the Demon Suppression Division being caught in a pincer attack... letting members of the Demon Cult hunt down demons and evil spirits eases the pressure on the frontline Slayers and reduces the harm to civilians. Saving the world and the people—it is a deed that serves three purposes at once. The credit will all go to you; why must you turn around and mock me?"

Huang Bao was stunned, his voice trembling slightly. "Such a great merit—do you truly intend to yield it all to me?"

"This is part of my 'Heart-Questioning Trial.' It cannot be avoided, nor can it be escaped. Unfortunately, my ambitions do not lie in the imperial court; once I step into the Hidden Spirit Realm, I will distance myself from these conflicts. No matter how great the credit, it is of no use to me."

Huang Bao was left speechless.

***

"The content of my secret discussion with the branch leader is related to this," Su Ye said softly. "The high-level cultivators within the Demon Cult have caught wind of the upcoming reforms in the Demon Suppression Division and are seeking ways to avoid disaster before the end arrives. My timing was perfect. Had I come earlier or later, the effect would not have been so extraordinary."

"Are you saying... the branch leader knows your true identity?" Huang Bao frowned slightly.

"They have been watching me... for quite some time now." The fact that the Demon Cult had mastered the details of the life-or-death situation in Weilan City, which had been sealed off by the Demon Suppression Division, was proof enough that someone from the dark faction had been observing him in secret long before this.

"Then you must be careful," Huang Bao warned sternly. "The Demon Cult has deep, inextricable ties to the true demon race."

"As my 'Heart-Questioning Trial' progresses, my potential has become nearly common knowledge," Su Ye laughed. "This matter has two sides—the good and the bad. To you, the crisis outweighs the opportunity. I do not see it that way."

"How do you plan to handle it?"

Su Ye’s smile was radiant as he kept the secret. "This mountain dweller has his own clever plan."

***

Su Ye closed the door and sat leisurely at the table, holding a scroll. It contained the movements of the scholar Zhu Zan.

At the hour of the Dragon (7:00–9:00 AM), he finishes his meditation, bathes, and changes clothes, first paying respects to his mother before sitting in silent meditation before the portrait of the Sage of Confucianism. At the hour of the Snake (9:00–11:00 AM), he goes to his private school to teach students the Confucian classics. Those who are mischievous or fail to complete their assignments are punished with a rap on the palm; those who perform well are rewarded with pills and other material gifts. At midday, the students eat. Zhu Zan practices *bigu*—he only drinks tea and does not eat. From the hour of the Sheep to the hour of the Rooster (1:00–7:00 PM), he teaches the students cultivation methods based on Confucian classics. Those who fall behind must stay after school to clean the premises, while those who excel are again rewarded with pills.

After leaving the school, Zhu Zan habitually visits a teahouse to drink tea and chat with others, perfectly embodying the demeanor of a refined scholar. Over the years, he has persuaded many passersby to enter the Confucian path, viewing it as a method to seek longevity.

Reading this, Su Ye found it difficult to tell whether the person behind these words was truly an apostle spreading the doctrine of the Demon Cult. Only when night falls does the evil hidden beneath the mask reveal its true face. He uses a formation in his bedroom to travel to another dimensional boundary. (Given Zhu Zan’s status, it must be a place of vice, similar to an underground black market. I am not in a position to enter, so I can only deduce this.)

Su Ye pondered, believing the second possibility—that the formation is a portal transporting him elsewhere—to be more realistic. The Demon Cult would not risk being wiped out by the Demon Suppression Division just to recruit pure-hearted people on the street. Extending from his own experience, he knew that the three thousand worlds, accompanied by demons and evil spirits, were not peaceful kingdoms; there must be countless people whose families had been destroyed by such horrors.

The seeds of hatred take root in the heart. Some, carrying their pain, still manage to stabilize their dao heart, such as Su Ye, who chose the path of sentient emotion. Others must surely be cynical—hating demons while simultaneously harboring hatred for the imperial court and the Demon Suppression Division, which failed to provide timely aid. Once the seeds in their hearts take root and sprout, and they encounter the doctrines preached by the Demon Cult, those seeds grow wildly, sprouting ideas of overthrowing the world. They enter the demonic path, practicing a form of near-paranoid justice.

Why would a well-read Confucian scholar with an elderly mother still living enter the demonic path and become a messenger of evil? This question piqued Su Ye’s curiosity.

Watching the setting sun outside the window, he saw it was the hour of the Rooster. To resolve his doubts, he had to find the answers himself.

A man of such upright stature values his reputation above all else. A narrow, filthy teahouse is unworthy of a scholar’s status, so he would disdain to patronize one. While the busiest teahouses are a mix of all sorts—occasionally frequented by itinerant merchants spewing crude language that offends a scholar’s sense of elegance—one can always find a few extraordinary strangers amidst the riffraff.

Therefore, Zhu Zan always went to the most bustling teahouse. He would not sit in a private room, nor would he listen to the decadent music played by entertainers. He would choose the table with the most guests, sipping clear tea while listening to the patrons chat. From court secrets to the plight of the common people, the "Do Not Discuss State Affairs" sign on the wall could only restrain the waiters, not the cultivators who each walked their own path.

Some discussed mundane matters, while others talked of cultivation, alchemy, or talisman-making. Whenever someone spoke of specialized, secret knowledge, the patrons would instinctively fall silent to listen to the speaker’s grand theories.

"...Those who refine pills by strictly following traditional formulas are mere mediocrities," a refined, handsome young man said with high spirits. "In my humble opinion, only by building upon the old knowledge of our predecessors to create new formulas for the present can one be called a true scholar."

The teahouse erupted in cheers. A man of slender build and elegant demeanor stood up, cupped his hands, and said in a clear voice, "I am Zhu Zan. I dare to invite you, brother, to share a pot of tea."