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Meng Chuandao dusted his robe, tightened his belt, and muttered a charm against pickpockets as he entered the marketplace. It had been a long walk from the city of Yen and he looked forward to a room in the Temple of the Jade Emperor and a hot bath. And maybe a gourd of good wine to pass the evening. But time enough for that after he satisfied the nagging call of his empty stomach.

Meng wandered slowly from stall to stall, hoping to spot something to eat. As he picked through a wheelbarrow of apples in one stall, he was struck by an overpowering wave of evil. Meng whirled, looking for the source. On the far side of the market, a young man dressed in the dark clothes and cap of a scholar stopped and examined writing brushes in stall directly across from where he stood. Meng's third eye sensed an aura, black as ink, that hung around the man like a fog. The stall owner began to protest as Meng walked away, clutching an apple. Without looking back, he reached into his purse and flipped a single coin over his shoulder. The bronze disk spun lazily through the air and landed in the exact center of the merchant's outstretched palm. "There you go."

Meng moved to a corner and scanned the marketplace with his second sight, but saw nothing else of interest. He flowed through the crowd to stand behind the scholar.

"Excuse me, sir," he said, laying his hand on the young man's shoulder. Up close, the aura was so bright that Meng was almost blinded--the blackness shading into colors beyond those even his psychic eye could see.

The man glanced briefly at Meng, then waved his hand dismissively. "Go away. I don't give money to wandering priests."

Meng tugged at the man's sleeve. The scholar turned, a curse on his lips. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the peach-wood sword tucked in Meng's belt. Few priests carried the sword of a demon hunter.

"I'm no mendicant. I am Meng Chuandao, the demon killer." He touched the sword hilt for emphasis.

The scholar cupped his own hands chest-high in greeting. "Master, forgive me. Can I help you?"

"Have you met anyone recently?"

"What do you mean?" asked the man, puzzled.

"Has anyone new come into your life? A woman perhaps?"

The scholar's red face and stammered denial told Meng everything he needed to know. "An evil aura hangs around you, sir. I can see it plain as day with my second sight. An aura like that only comes from close contact with demons."

The young man repeated his earlier answer. "I've met no one recently."

Meng stroked his beard with one hand. "You're in great danger. Don't choose to ignore it."

The scholar looked annoyed. "Thank you for your concern, Master Meng, but I haven't met anyone recently. Now, if you'll excuse me..." The young man turned back to the brushes on the table.

Meng snorted and shook his head. The Tao moved in mysterious ways. In the end, every being's fate was its own. If the scholar didn't want to be helped, even though the boy was in danger, there was no sense in trying to convince him. Meng shrugged and took a bite of his apple. Then he wandered off in search of the Temple and a hot bath.

#

The next morning Meng sat against a wall in the shade of a tea shop awning, eating rice porridge for breakfast and watching people in the market swirl past. At peace with both his stomach and the all-encompassing, universal Tao, he pushed an empty bowl aside and picked up his teacup.

His inner peace was shattered when someone ran up and slammed into the table, knocking the cup from his hand. Meng caught the teacup as it tumbled and used it to scoop up the spilled tea in mid-air. A single drop escaped his notice and landed on the front of his robe. He brushed at it with a curse, then looked to see who had just insulted him. There was no one there.

Meng leaned forward in his chair. The scholar lay on his face in the dirt, shivering. He picked up his sword from where it leaned against the table and poked the man in the back with the tip.

"Great Master Meng!" wailed the scholar, "Please forgive my ignorance in not recognizing your talents and abilities! I've been seduced by a demon and I humbly beg you to save my life!"

"Ah! So you have met someone recently, after all."

The young man looked up, his face ashen. "Yes. As you said, a woman."

The priest smiled. "Sit, and tell me everything."

The scholar dusted himself off and pulled up a chair. The waiter came around and brought a fresh pot of tea and a second small cup. Meng poured a cup and handed it to the man.

"My name is Wang Rujia. I'm a scholar here in Taiyuan and live in Pusong lane," said the young man around sips of tea.

"About a week ago I ran into a young lady as I was taking an early-morning walk. She carried a small bundle and kept looking over her shoulder. She seemed scared, so I asked if she needed help. She said that no one could help her. Curious, I asked her what was the matter. She told me her greedy parents had sold her to a rich man. The rich man's wife became jealous of the girl, and tormented her night and day. When she couldn't stand it anymore, she ran away. She'd just gotten to Taiyuan. Since my house was nearby, I told her she was welcome to stay with me as long as she liked."

"This young lady," asked Meng, "was she pretty?"

"Oh yes," said Wang, a grin on his face. "Very."

"And did that have anything to do with your offer to help her?"

The young man looked down at his tea. "Perhaps."

"Then what happened?"

"I took her home and let her sleep in my study. She seemed happy that no one but me spent time there, and said that if I was going to keep her, it was best she stay hidden from my wife."

Meng reached over, picked up a handful of sunflower seeds from a bowl in the middle of the table, and dropped them into his mouth. "I see. Go on."

"The young lady was, well, very pleasant company, and everything seemed fine until I ran into you. I thought you were making up the whole story about the aura and demons, just so you could sell me some overpriced amulet. But I was wrong, Master Meng. Please forgive me!" He dropped to the ground and began kowtowing over and over. "Please forgive me! Please forgive me!"

Meng stood Scholar Wang up, brushed the dust off the man's forehead, and sat him back in his chair. "So what changed your mind about me?"

"When I went to my study this morning, the door was locked. It'd never been locked before, so I went around to the window and peeped through the shutters. And there it was. A demon! Squat, with long arms, a green face, and teeth like a pair of saws! It had spread a human skin out across my desk and was painting on it with a brush. When it was done, it held up the skin like a robe, put it on, and turned into the girl! I was so scared that I ran all the way to the market without stopping. Thank Heaven I found you!"

Meng clucked his tongue. "I've heard of this kind of demon before. It's kind are dangerous and hard to get rid of. Let your doorman know I'll be coming to visit your house tonight at midnight. Have him let me in without delay." Meng reached down and pulled a fly whisk from his belt. "This is a symbol of my power. The demon won't dare come near it. Hang it in front of your bedroom tonight and it'll protect you until I can come get rid of this monster."

"Thank you, Master Meng!" gushed the scholar. Then he looked down again at his tea. "Ah, is this kind of demon expensive as well as hard to get rid of? I'm just the poor son of a merchant, and..."

Meng's eyes flashed with anger. "I fight demons in order to maintain the balance of Yin and Yang! To keep the universe as it should be! I do not charge for this service like a common tradesman!"

The scholar turned pale. "Forgive me, Master! I am ignorant and didn't know. Is there anything I can do to assist you, then?"

"Yes, give me one string of cash. I need to buy a gourd of strong wine for tonight."

"To lure the demon out of the study?"

Meng shook his head. "No. The wine is for me."

#

The sound of the midnight drum echoed across the city. Meng Chuandao strode down the lane to Scholar Wang's house, his peach-wood sword laid over his shoulder, the now-empty gourd swinging from his belt. He'd spent a pleasant evening with the tea shop owner, swapping stories and drinking the wine. When the last drop had been drained, he'd asked for a lamp, a brush, and some ink, and had set to work. The gourd that danced at the end of its cord was now covered with charms and words of power.

Meng hummed a folk tune as trotted up the steps to Wang's front gate two at a time. He rapped on the red-painted door with his sword.

Someone shuffled up on the other side of the door. "Go away, whoever you are! Or I'll send the porters out with clubs to make you leave!"

Meng pounded the door again, this time with his fist. "Your master should have told you I'd arrive at midnight. Now let me in!"

The wooden bar across the gate rattled as it was taken down. One half of the gate opened a crack and a gray-haired old man peeked out. Upon seeing Meng in his robes, the door was opened a little further. "Ah! When the master said he was expecting a priest at midnight, I thought he was joking. Come in, Master, come in."

Meng had barely stepped over the threshold when a scream echoed around the compound. The lantern cast dancing shadows on the wall behind as the old man's hand shook in fright. "What was that?"

"Quick!" said the priest, "Which building contains your master's chambers?"

The old man pointed across the courtyard with a gnarled hand. "That one there!"

Meng ran over the cobblestones, chanting spells of protection as he went, then bounded up the stairs and onto the porch. His fly whisk lay there, scorched and broken in half. The doors to the bedroom hung open. A servant ran up, but stopped at the sight of the priest. Several other men, waving clubs and spears, also ran up--the Wang family's night watchmen.

Meng spoke to the men milling in the courtyard. "Your master asked me to exorcise a demon for him, but it looks like the fiend got to him first. It's probably too late to save your master, but the demon may not have left yet. Give me your lantern," he said, pointing to one of the servants, "and I'll go in and have a look. Seize anyone but me who comes out." Meng took the lantern that was handed up to him, then stepped cautiously into the bedroom, sword in hand.

The lantern cast a small circle of light. Scholar Wang lay in a pool of blood, his eyes staring at nothing, mouth open in a silent scream. Finger-thick ribbons of dark blood flowed from his chest and across the silk bedclothes. The demon had eaten the poor man's heart.

He heard a whimper behind him. Meng whirled and thrust with his sword. In the corner lay a shivering lump hidden under a comforter. Meng set the lantern down, then whipped it aside to reveal a woman, curled up in a ball.

"You're Wang's wife?" he asked as he squatted beside her.

"Yuh...Yuh...Yes."

"What happened?"

The woman continued to tremble, but said nothing.

"What happened?!" he insisted.

"It came for him. He hung the fly whisk outside the door, just like you said...it came once, not long after dark. Wang was so scared he wouldn't get out of bed and sent me to go look. The demon stood outside the door, staring at the whisk and grinding its teeth. Then it went away. A couple of hours later it came back. He sent me to go look a second time. As I watched, it tore the whisk down, and burst through the door." Meng's fist clenched in anger. The power inherent in the whisk should have been more than enough to protect scholar Wang. The demon was evidently more powerful than he had thought.

"Is it still here? Did you see where it went?" asked Meng.

The woman shook her head. "I hid under the blanket."

Meng stood and hung his head, then walked out of the room. He looked at the milling servants. "Scholar Wang is dead. The demon escaped. His wife lives. See to her."

Just then another group of men ran up, led by a well-dressed young man. The man ran up the steps, then stopped and bowed politely. "I am Wang Xiao'er, Wang Rujia's younger brother. Master, what's happened?"

Meng stuck his peach-wood sword through his belt. "Your brother is dead, killed by a demon who came to him in the guise of a young girl. Your sister-in-law is inside, scared almost beyond speech."

The younger Wang ran inside. He came out a short while later, pale and shaking. Meng bowed deeply. "I'm very sorry for your family's loss Master Wang. I tried to help your brother. I was unsuccessful, but I don't intend to let the demon who killed him get away."

He looked up at the sky. It would be dawn in a few hours, and the demon would be looking for a place to hide. As he dropped his gaze, a faint shimmer of black over the top of the south wall of the compound caught his eye.

"Who lives in the compound just behind this one, in those houses over there?"

"I do," said the younger Wang.

"Then let's go," said Meng. "I have an idea where we might be able to find your brother's killer."

#

"She's over there, sweeping out the study," whispered Amah Geng, the housekeeper. "Hired her just this morning. Pitiful thing, sleeping outside the gate, face all streaked with tears..." Meng silenced her with a look, then turned to the younger Wang. "Put your men around the courtyard in case she gets by me. Whatever you do, don't let her get out the front gate."

He crept up the steps of the porch, his peach-wood sword held in front of him. The girl stood inside the study, her back to him. A broom moved back and forth across the stone floor, making short hissing noises. He looked around the room; all the windows were shut. Good. That meant she had to get past him to get out.

"You owe me a fly whisk," said Meng in a quiet voice.

The girl whirled, and the broom clattered against the stone floor. After a moment, she curtsied. "You...You scared me. You must be looking for Master Wang. He's not here, sir. I'll go find him for you." She took a step.

Meng moved to keep himself between her and the door and shook his head. "No need. He knows I'm here. And he knows why I'm here. I think you know why I'm here, too."

The girl backed up, her hands raised to protect herself. "Sir, I don't understand..."

Without warning, Meng thrust at her with his sword. Almost faster than the eye could see, the girl twisted like a snake to avoid the blow. She stared at him, eyes blazing with anger.

Meng smiled and pulled the gourd from his belt. It dangled from its red cord and twisted lazily, revealing the rows of charms painted on the side. "And you know what this is for."

At the sight of the gourd, the girl hissed like a cat and sprang. Meng threw himself on his back, still holding the sword straight out in front of him. The girl passed through the air above, the tip of the peach-wood sword scraping down the length of her body as she soared out the door.

Meng leapt to his feet and ran after her. The girl-skin lay on the porch like a cast-off robe. The demon ran towards the front gate, but was forced back by a line of house servants wielding spears and clubs. It was quickly surrounded by a circle of armed men, and dropped to its knees the middle of the courtyard, squealing like a pig. "Master, spare me!"

Meng pushed his way into the circle, and without another word, struck the demon's neck with his peach-wood sword. The head rolled from the body. As it struck the cobblestones, the demon dissolved into a ball of smoke. Meng held the gourd inside the swirling vapor. The stopper made a faint pop as it came out. The smoke that had been the demon flowed into the gourd, slowly at first, then faster and faster until it had all been sucked inside.

He replaced the stopper and tucked the gourd back into his robe. He stuck his sword through his belt and walked up onto the porch to retrieve the girl-skin. It lay there, shifting slowly in the early morning breeze. He examined it, front and back, then rolled it up and tucked it in his robe beside the gourd.

Wang Xiao'er came over and bowed deeply. "Master Meng, you have gotten rid of this evil demon, as well as avenged my brother. How can we ever repay you?"

Meng stroked his beard for a moment before answering. "With a gourd of good wine."

#

The sun had set, and the darkness was growing as Meng trudged past a graveyard on the road to Xi'an. He looked across the field of stones and muttered curses under his breath. There, he thought, spying a monument partially surrounded by walls. That should do. Meng found a corner where two walls met and positioned himself facing it. He drew his peach-wood sword, then reached inside his robe.The smoke solidified as he poured it out of the gourd. The demon tried to run, but Meng kept it trapped by holding his sword under its chin.

"What were you thinking?"

"What do you mean?"

"You killed the scholar. You ate his heart."

The demon shrugged. "I was hungry."

"But you're not supposed to do that," growled Meng. He jabbed with his sword for emphasis. "How many times have we done this? You know the routine. You find a lonely young man to take you in. I use the aura to find you, tell the house they're being haunted. The whisk is the signal I'm in. We battle back and forth for a couple of days. I eat their food and wine, you eat a couple of the servants. Then we move on. Simple. But no, you had to go and eat the scholar's heart the first night. What was I supposed to do then?"

The demon looked sheepish. "Sorry."

Meng tucked his peach-wood sword back in his belt. "Just try to get it right when we get to Xi'an. Now back in the gourd."