Chapter Forty-Eight: Capturing the Fierce Meng Beast Alive

Previously, it was told how Mengkeshu was beset on all sides, and though he charged through the eastern, southern, and western gates, he could not break out of the city.
Finally, he arrived at the northern gate, only to find Xu Yaozu blocking his way.
Angry and exasperated, Mengkeshu charged at Xu Yaozu with vicious intent, claws bared, ready to tear him apart.
Xu Yaozu thought, “Ah, this is bad! Mengkeshu is too formidable. I can't dodge him, so I might as well risk everything!”
With resolve hardened, he stood his ground, raised his Zhaoyang spear high, and shouted, “Mengkeshu, behold my Three Death-Defying Spears!”
“The first spear: Snow Covers the Summit!”
The Zhaoyang spear shimmered in the wind and came crashing down, aiming for Mengkeshu’s head!
Mid-leap, Mengkeshu suddenly saw a blur—an intense gust rushed toward his skull!
He was instantly terrified. “What’s this? Is this old man truly fearless? Even if I strike him, his spear will crush my head—it’s not worth it!”
Hastily, he twisted in the air, narrowly avoiding the deadly blow.
But before he landed, a second shout rang out: “The second spear: Sweeping Autumn Winds!”
A fierce gust lashed toward his waist!
Mengkeshu felt his soul fly from his body—how had the old man grown so fast? He’d never been this formidable before!
But there was no time to ponder. In desperation, he snatched a nearby rebel’s spear.
With a resounding clash, he parried the fatal attack.
As he touched down, before he could steady himself—
“The third spear: Fierce Dragon Turns Its Head!”
With the cry, the spear swung once more for his head!
Mengkeshu hurriedly raised his spear to block, but the Zhaoyang spear twisted mid-strike, aiming instead for his ankles!
Mengkeshu, worn out from the long battle, found his legs weak and too sluggish to dodge.
With a heavy thud, the blow swept his legs out from under him, and he crashed to the ground!
“Tie him up!”
At this command, the soldiers surged forward, binding Mengkeshu’s many arms and legs until he was thoroughly secured.
Mengkeshu was furious. After a lifetime of heroics, he was now captured alive by Xu Yaozu, that sly schemer! If he’d known, he would have rather fought Li Xiong to the death and been smashed by his iron flail!
He cursed bitterly: “Xu, you fool! Using such despicable tricks to trap me—if I die, I’ll haunt you forever!”
Still, he struggled on the ground.
Just then, Li Xiong caught up. Seeing Mengkeshu captured, he was not content. He stomped on Mengkeshu’s face, making his eyes roll and nearly suffocating him!
“You… you… old monster! Try running now! I’ll tear your head clean off!”
He grabbed Mengkeshu by the throat, intent on ripping his head off.
Xu Yaozu saw this and intervened, “Good child, good child, don’t! It’s fine to be angry, but don’t kill him! At most, uncle will share half the credit with you!”
Li Xiong, still fuming, retorted, “No… no… I don’t want it! I’ll win an even greater credit in the future!”
With that, he let go, turned away, and strode off.
Xu Yaozu took Mengkeshu back to camp. Along the way, he saw his comrades with countless spoils, but he cared little—riding tall on his horse, belly out, proud beyond measure.

Because no matter how much others captured, none could compare to the merit of his own feat!
Upon arrival at camp, Murong Yan personally greeted him, calling, “Master!”
With concern, she said, “I was so worried Mengkeshu would break through the north gate and you’d be overrun. Yet you won the greatest merit—what an achievement!”
Xu Yaozu laughed heartily, “The fortunate need not hurry, the unfortunate toil in vain. Who am I? A general blessed by fate! Nothing is beyond me—rest easy!”
He then ordered the soldiers, “Bring Mengkeshu forward!”
Murong Yan commanded Mengkeshu be taken to the execution ground, where she would supervise his execution herself.
The execution ground was encircled by thick crowds, layer upon layer—so packed not a drop could slip through.
People pressed against each other, shoulder to shoulder, more festive than New Year's itself!
Murong Yan, seated high above, gave the order, “Bring Mengkeshu forward!”
The soldiers dragged and shoved Mengkeshu onto the platform.
“Kneel! Kneel!” the generals bellowed.
But Mengkeshu, scowling fiercely, refused to kneel.
Murong Yan slammed her gavel.
“Mengkeshu, do you admit your crimes?!”
“I was following the king’s orders to punish you peasants. What crime is there?!”
Mengkeshu sneered, not sparing Murong Yan a glance.
“We commoners toil generation after generation, harming no one—how are we lowly? Must we become like you, delighting in slaughter, plunder, and bullying the weak?”
This question left Mengkeshu speechless.
“Answer me: how many of our people have you killed? How much have you stolen? How many women have you defiled?”
The rapid barrage of questions made Mengkeshu break out in cold sweat.
“Afraid you can’t even say, can you?”
“So tell me—shouldn’t you be put to death? Even ten thousand deaths wouldn’t suffice!”
Now Mengkeshu’s resolve hardened—he bared his steel teeth and spat,
“Kill me if you wish, brat—why waste words?!”
This act ignited the crowd’s fury, fists raised, voices roaring, “Kill him! Kill him! Kill him…”
Murong Yan dodged the spit, her anger only mounting. She drew her command token and hurled it: “Guards, drag him down and execute him!”
The guards dragged Mengkeshu away.
At the appointed hour, after verifying his identity, the order was given: “Carry out the execution!”
With a single stroke, the executioner severed Mengkeshu’s head.
The people erupted in cheers!
But before the cheers died down, Mengkeshu’s headless body staggered upright, aimlessly wandering off the scaffold and into the crowd.
The onlookers screamed in terror, scattering in panic!
Chaos broke out at the scene.
“Bring him back!” Murong Yan cried urgently.
Bold soldiers dragged the body back, pinning it down, but it still struggled!
“Quick! Bring dog’s blood!” Murong Yan commanded.
The soldiers brought it and doused the corpse, but it had no effect—the body continued to writhe.

“Disciple, this is not sorcery but Mengkeshu’s innate power of regeneration—dog’s blood cannot break it!”
Xu Yaozu stepped forward, hands clasped, and reported.
Murong Yan frowned, then suddenly smiled and said, “Summon the blacksmiths—forge an iron chest, coat it inside and out with tung oil, lock Mengkeshu’s body inside, fill it with stones, and sink it into the deep sea.”
With a cold laugh: “Let’s see what mischief you can cause now!”
Everyone laughed heartily.
Murong Yan then ordered, “Hang Mengkeshu’s head for three days to appease the people's wrath!”
The soldiers carried out her command at once.
For three days, the city was decked in lanterns and banners, firecrackers exploded, opera stages were erected, and plays performed—it was a festival like New Year’s.
People walked the streets with straight backs and high heads, feeling only one thing: pride!
Passing beneath Mengkeshu’s severed head, everyone spat in contempt—what satisfaction! Vengeance was sweet!
While the city celebrated, Ye Feng was troubled, lost in thought.
One day, he sought out Murong Yan. “Sister Yan, now that Mengkeshu is dead and the demon army has retreated, there is still one great task ahead.”
Murong Yan smiled gently, “Brother Feng, I know your thoughts. You mean to strike at the demon capital and restore the lands of Grand Xia?”
Ye Feng nodded. “Exactly.”
Murong Yan’s brow furrowed slightly. “Brother Feng, I’ve considered this as well. However, with so many surrendered and new recruits, the soldiers are of uneven quality; their combat strength cannot be raised quickly. How can we campaign now?”
Ye Feng replied, “You are right. But as our strength grows and the enemy wanes, if we do not act, the Demon Kingdom may return in force, and our people will suffer again.”
Murong Yan nodded, “Brother Feng, let us strengthen our defenses to guard against invasion, while also intensifying training to improve our troops and stockpiling supplies for the campaign.”
Ye Feng chuckled, “Sister Yan, so you had this planned all along?”
Murong Yan blushed, “And you, brother Feng, were you not thinking the same?”
They talked late into the night and finally agreed: under the banner “Expel the Demons, Recover Our Lands,” Ye Feng would train the soldiers while Murong Yan prepared supplies, both working in tandem for an early campaign.
The next day, Murong Yan and Ye Feng assembled the entire army for a mass training rally.
Ye Feng laid out the rules, revising military law with seventeen prohibitions and fifty-four capital offenses.
Those who shirked training, dodged drills, or failed to meet standards would be severely punished.
Commanders who failed in their duties or committed major errors would be held accountable at every level.
The army would supervise itself, holding minor competitions every three days and major contests every five, with rewards for the victors.
The generals diligently practiced demon-slaying arts, meeting regularly to tackle difficulties and solve problems.
In no time, all improved greatly, with rapid progress in their demon-slaying skills.
One day, Ye Feng visited Xu Yaozu, knocking at his door. It was Xu Zhihui who answered.
“Brother Xu, at the memorial ceremony last time, I was presumptuous…”
Ye Feng immediately recalled having reproved Xu Zhihui at the memorial service days before and felt embarrassed, quickly bowing in apology.
“We’re like brothers—no need for such words! Besides, I was at fault first,” Xu Zhihui replied with a hearty laugh, unbothered.
“Thank you for your generosity!”
Ye Feng, seeing Xu Zhihui so magnanimous, was overjoyed and bowed deeply.
He thought: Xu Yaozu’s son is indeed extraordinary, as noble and righteous as his father. I, Ye Feng, am the petty one, still remembering past grievances.
But little did he know, since his previous rebuke, Xu Zhihui had restrained his former arrogance, growing more calculating—outwardly affable, but inwardly plotting his revenge!
“May I ask if Elder Xu is in? I have urgent business with him,” Ye Feng asked directly.
“Oh, my father is practicing spear techniques in the rear garden—please come in!”
Xu Zhihui courteously invited him in.
But as Ye Feng stepped inside, he was unaware he was entering peril—would he live or die? The answer awaits in the next chapter.