Chapter Fifty-Six: The Demon Chariot

Blood was unmistakably falling from the sky like raindrops, splattering across the earth. On the ground, the fat driver was covered in blood, writhing and wailing as he rolled about in agony.

The Dragon King sprang forward. “What happened?” he called, reaching out to help the driver who was rolling on the ground.

“Seventh brother, don’t touch him!” Ghostface Zhang barked, stopping the Dragon King in his tracks. “He’s doomed.”

“What?” The Dragon King turned back in alarm. “Third brother, what’s going on?”

Suddenly, a thunderous crash echoed from the distance.

“Quick, hide!” the Kaleidoscope shouted, motioning for us to take cover.

A flurry of wingbeats filled the air.

“Damn it, it’s back again!” Ghostface Zhang leapt onto the branch of a towering tree, concealing himself among the leaves.

Mengya and I hurriedly squeezed back into the crevice of the tree hollow.

Then—BOOM!

A tremendous shadow drifted toward us from afar, vast and looming, its silhouette strangely reminiscent of a duck as it slowly glided in our direction.

“What on earth is that? It looks at least seven or eight meters tall!” I muttered, but before I could finish, Mengya clapped her hand over my mouth.

The black creature floated through the air, and to our astonishment, it did not flap its wings. Instead, it spun its massive tail like a propeller, flying in a most bizarre fashion.

With a jarring thud, the strange bird landed, shaking its tail and scratching at the earth.

I held my breath, curiosity getting the better of me as I poked my head out of the tree hollow—only to nearly faint from shock at the sight.

The monstrous bird stood nearly two or three meters tall, its body cloaked in glossy black feathers. Its enormous tail resembled a cartwheel, spanning perhaps five or six meters across, like a wall of black stone. Most terrifying of all, its neck forked into two, each branch bearing a rotting rooster’s head. Beneath each grotesque head dangled three shriveled, unsightly little heads, and beneath the right rooster head, a deformed, half-human, half-beast head protruded. If this nightmarish combination was not already horrifying enough, the left head hung over a gruesome stump, like a butchered chicken neck, dripping fresh blood. The whole abomination was so jarring, so grotesque, I felt as if I’d wandered into the wrong story entirely.

The monster let out two deafening, grating croaks, tilting its head to eye the fat driver writhing on the ground with apparent interest.

After a moment, it raised its enormous claw, shrieked, and stomped down on the fat driver. His body exploded under the blow like a child’s toy ball, blood and gore splattering everywhere.

I witnessed the entire bloody scene. If Mengya hadn’t kept her hand pressed over my mouth, I might have screamed aloud.

The monstrous bird seized the driver’s crushed, blood-soaked head with its beak. The right rooster head swallowed it whole, and, unsated, the beast devoured the remaining limbs one by one. Only then did it utter two more hideous cries, stomp its legs, and lash its giant tail, apparently satisfied but making no move to leave. Instead, it glanced sideways at the branches above.

A chill ran through me—Ghostface Zhang was hiding right there. No matter how skilled he was, he wouldn’t stand a chance against such a monstrosity.

The creature lifted its grotesque heads and croaked again, its massive tail sweeping up a cloud of dust. Then, with a mighty leap, it soared away toward the distant mountains.

A stone tumbled down from above—Ghostface Zhang had thrown it to test for danger. Satisfied that nothing lurked nearby, he floated down from the tree.

“It’s gone. You can all come out now.”

We emerged from our hiding places, staring in horror at the mangled remains of the fat driver.

“What on earth was that thing? I’ve never seen anything like it,” the Dragon King exclaimed, aghast.

“Sixth brother, you know what that was, don’t you?” Ghostface Zhang turned to the Kaleidoscope.

The Kaleidoscope wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded. “If I’m not mistaken, that was a ‘Ghost Cart’.”

Ghostface Zhang nodded solemnly, murmuring his agreement.

At his words, my heart skipped a beat. The “Ghost Cart Bird” was a legendary creature from the Classic of Mountains and Seas.

“What’s a Ghost Cart?” Iron Crutch Liu asked, bewildered.

The Kaleidoscope scratched his head. “Have you ever heard the saying, ‘In the sky, nine-headed birds; on earth, the people of Hubei’?”

Iron Crutch Liu nodded, a cold sweat beading on his forehead.

The Ghost Cart, a creature of folklore, is the “nine-headed bird,” a monstrous bird from ancient Chinese mythology. Its name comes from the sound it makes in flight, reminiscent of a cart rumbling along. According to legend, this nine-headed bird was even seen by Confucius himself, though by then few remembered its name—only that it was a thing of terrible strangeness. The famous ancient text, the Classic of Mountains and Seas, records: “Within the Burning Wastes… there is a spirit with nine heads, a human face, and a bird’s body, named the Nine Phoenix. The phoenix rises, soaring day and night… Its wings bear great banners, it flies high and wide… Three phoenixes spread their voices, shaking heaven and earth, making ghosts and gods weep. Three phoenixes, nine heads, their ambitions vast, their wisdom deep.”

As for the nine-headed bird’s traits, a poem by Mei Yaochen in the Song dynasty describes it in detail:

Long ago, the Duke of Zhou lived in the east, detesting this bird as he would an enemy.
One night he led his household out, bow drawn, to drive it from the nine provinces.
He shot three times and missed; Heaven sent a celestial hound to seize it from the sky.
Since the dog bit off one head, its blood has flowed clear to this day.
Three thousand years have passed; it hides by day, emerges by night like an owl.
Whenever it passes on gloomy days, sudden firelight startles it to the ground.
Sometimes, its blood rains down, befouling the land—wherever it falls, misfortune follows.

The meaning of the poem is clear: the Ghost Cart Bird is a vicious omen.

“We’ve run into real trouble this time,” Iron Crutch Liu sighed. “What do we do now?”

Ghostface Zhang seemed nonchalant, lighting a cigarette and taking a slow drag. I couldn’t help but admire his composure—he looked even more frightening than the nine-headed bird itself.

“No need to worry. The creature flew off in the other direction. Let’s keep moving. If luck is with us, we’ll reach the end of this forest and our destination by tonight.”

Everyone nodded—there was little else we could do.

We pressed on through the dense jungle for another two or three hours, the terrain growing unexpectedly steep. By now I was utterly exhausted. Thankfully, the nine-headed bird did not return—perhaps, having gorged itself on the fat driver, it was too full to move.

“Third brother, let’s rest here for a while,” the Dragon King suggested.

Ghostface Zhang surveyed the landscape ahead and nodded, lighting another cigarette.

I slumped weakly against a boulder, gulping down water as if pouring it into a rat hole. It was clear that, apart from Ghostface Zhang, who remained unfazed, everyone else in the group was as weary as I was, sprawled on the ground, some on the verge of sleep.

“Up!” Ghostface Zhang said quietly. “Rest, but don’t sleep. Who knows what could happen next?”

The Kaleidoscope, who had been dozing off, jolted upright at his words.

We rested there for half an hour, refueling with compressed biscuits and bottled water. At Ghostface Zhang’s call, we reluctantly hauled ourselves to our feet and pressed deeper into the mountains.

The path ahead was far more treacherous than before, the slope rising at angles between forty-five and sixty degrees, littered with mossy rocks and mud—an easy place to slip. I found myself crawling on all fours, much to Ghostface Zhang’s disapproval; he shot me repeated glares, clearly annoyed with me.