Deserted house, dark night, the bonfire blazes.
A group of large and small yellow-skinned ones are scattered around, each either wearing tattered shorts or small vests, with small hands uneasy, eyes filled with awe and fear.
House demons, weak ones of the demon race depend on humans, either to warn of evil spirits or to steal chickens, opinions vary.
By the fire, Zhang Kui lifted his Taoist robe, pressed down the wine gourd, and laughed:
"Hundred-year-old sunken wine, mixed with heroic blood, taste it, beautiful enough to bubble!"
Old Yellow cautiously held a broken bowl, first sniffed it, then drank it all in one gulp, smacking his lips to savor:
"It goes down smoothly, the aftertaste is strong, so marvelous it makes you feel like an immortal, I, Old Yellow, have truly enjoyed a blessing today, no regrets in this life."
"Nonsense..."
Zhang Kui smiled, "You old demon acting like a patriarch on the mountain, why leave a life of leisure to roll in this quagmire?"
