Starting as a Butcher to Slay Demons and Exorcise Evil

March had only just begun, and the chill of winter was already fading; even the branches bore specks of green, heralding the season when all things awaken. Yet the northern wind still carried a biting edge, at least here in Hangdu. The sky was just beginning to lighten, but already the streets bustled with those setting out to earn their daily bread, wrapped tightly in thick cotton coats—after all, for the poor, a brush with cold could mean unaffordable medicine.

A few constables strolled lazily along the street, their presence prompting passersby to step aside. As a famed city since the Tang and Song dynasties, Hangdu’s prosperity was beyond question: everywhere stood grand residences with blue tiles and white walls, and wealthy merchants were hardly a rare sight. Commerce here relied mainly on water transport; a clear river ran through the city, linking with the great river that reached distant lands.

Willows lined the riverbanks, though in winter their bare branches hardly made for a pleasing view. Even in the desolate northwest district, street vendors lined the roadside—survival in this capital, where every inch of land was precious, was never easy.

Down the main road, a solitary figure walked towards the rising sun—a man in his early sixties, carrying a shoulder pole, his loose hemp robe draped over a lean frame. His steps were brisk, and he greeted everyone who called out to him along the way.

After passing through what could be considered a bustling district, the old man arrived before a narrow alley, from which wafted the scent of damp an