Chapter 18 — The Youth of the Barren Ruins Is No Good Sort

ving straight to his heart and lungs. The butcher knife had been forged for him by the village blacksmith, Mute. Mute was a famed smith for miles around; what he made was always in demand, and folk from other villages often came to him for cleavers, hoes, iron ploughs and the like. "It is not common iron!" Froth at its mouth, the monster wanted to step closer for a better look but dared not, for fear Shen Mu would start chanting that bizarre demon speech again. It cried: "Feel it, is there a chill? If there is, then it is mystic cold-gold marrow!" Startled, Shen Mu nodded. "There is a chill, sure enough." The monster cried out, almost in grief: "To forge a chopping block out of mystic cold-gold marrow! And with such superb craftsmanship, and you make a knife like a chopping block? A waste of heaven's bounty, a waste of skill!" Shen Mu shot it a glare, slung the butcher knife across his back, then gathered up the weapons and other treasures from the floor and carried them out of the ruined shrine one by one, setting them down before the temple door. The monster flew into a fury. "You already own such a fine weapon, why must you take mine as well?" "Granny always said, whatever you have won by your own skill, you take every scrap of it." Shen Mu turned his head and grinned his guileless grin. "All these things of yours I took by my own skill, so naturally I have to take them all." The monster was half dead with rage, yet dared not fall out with him, and could only watch, helplessly, as the treasures it had labored so hard to collect were carried clean away. "Got any bundles or wraps around here?" Shen Mu's head popped back in, suddenly. "No!" "Oh." He withdrew. The monster crept out of the hall to see Shen Mu outside, felling bamboo on the island. Before long he had lashed together a raft, loaded the treasures onto it, and, pushing with a long bamboo pole, started upstream. "Who raised such a wicked child, that he would even dare rob me?" The monster danced with rage, and at last dared to bellow: "Is there no law left in the world? He even asks me for a wrap to bundle the loot in. It boils my blood!"