Chapter Nine: The Desolate Village

Shen Chang’an felt a throbbing pain in his head. This mad girl’s way of thinking was entirely different from any normal person’s, yet the very thing he needed to enter Fang City was in her hands, so he had no choice but to let her tag along.

With the carriage destroyed, the two of them simply rode on horseback. Zheng Xin had learned many skills from her father, and horseback riding was among them; she mounted with ease, light as a feather. In contrast, Shen Chang’an could only rely on brute strength to subdue his horse, forcing it forward, which made Zheng Xin feel a pang of sympathy.

“Daoist, how come you can’t ride a horse?”

Irritated, Shen Chang’an replied, “I have no money. I’m poor.”

Zheng Xin was at a loss for words. In ancient times, horses were like cars, only far more valuable and powerful as labor. Without money, one truly couldn’t afford a horse.

They continued on their way, and by dusk, dark clouds began gathering in the sky. The weather in Youzhou was notoriously fickle; a bright, sunny sky could turn overcast in mere minutes, and now, thick clouds loomed overhead.

A wry smile appeared on Shen Chang’an’s face. “Looks like we’ll be spending the night in the rain.”

But Zheng Xin pointed to a nearby village. “There’s a village right there. We can just borrow a place for the night.”

Shen Chang’an shook out the map Zheng Huyi had given them and grunted, “Your father’s map doesn’t show this village.”

Zheng Xin dismissed this with a wave. “So what? We’ll just mark it on the map for him later.”

Shen Chang’an was momentarily taken aback, unable to respond. He could only force a helpless smile. “Alright, fine, we’ll add it for him.”

They rode into the village, but the moment they entered, an air of desolation and abandonment pressed in on them.

“Hey? There’s no one here?” Zheng Xin asked in confusion.

The village streets were completely deserted, though just a short while ago, she’d clearly seen smoke rising from cooking fires.

“Daoist, where did everyone go?”

Shen Chang’an shrugged. “Times are hard—war and chaos everywhere.”

But he wasn’t telling the truth. He had already quietly traced the area with the Jade Dragon Talisman; a sinister, evil aura lingered everywhere. It would be odd if anyone had survived.

“That’s fine. Let’s just make do for the night here.”

Shen Chang’an nodded and reached to push open a door, but Zheng Xin immediately stopped him.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Looking for a clean house. What’s wrong with that?”

“Don’t you know anything? In remote places like this, you can’t just stay anywhere you please. What if they worship someone here? We’d be showing disrespect.”

Shen Chang’an asked with curiosity, “Then where do you suggest we stay?”

Zheng Xin pointed to the large building at the center of the village. “Isn’t there a temple? We’ll stay there. Don’t worry, temples have gods and immortals enshrined. If we offer a stick of incense, they’ll surely allow us to spend the night.”

Shen Chang’an couldn’t help but laugh. “Where did you pick up all this knowledge?”

“I picked it up from talking with all kinds of heroes and travelers. Anyway, you wouldn’t understand.”

Shen Chang’an nodded. “That’s true, I don’t really understand.”

In the middle of the night, with a perfectly good bed available, she insisted on heading straight into the lair of monsters and demons—such contrariness truly defied comprehension.

“Heh, and to think you’re the famous Master Lingxiao! If you don’t even know this much, people will laugh their heads off when you travel the world.”

Shen Chang’an could only shrug, sighing softly, “Alright, Lady Zheng, save your ridicule for later. For now, let’s go inside and see where we’ll sleep tonight.”

Zheng Xin, pleased that she’d imparted knowledge Shen Chang’an apparently didn’t know, strode ahead and pushed open the temple door.

Though the temple was still relatively intact, it was empty inside—no statues of any deity, just dust everywhere, as if no one had visited for years. At the center stood a massive stone pedestal, probably where a statue had once been placed. Other than that, the room was barren.

Seeing the stone pedestal, Shen Chang’an was about to speak, but Zheng Xin leaped forward and claimed it for herself, gloating, “Daoist, this pedestal is mine.”

Shen Chang’an swallowed his words and made an indifferent face, letting her have her way.

From her pack, Zheng Xin produced a mat, quickly spread it out on the pedestal, and lay down contentedly. Shen Chang’an gathered some dry grass, made a rough pile, and lay down beside it.

Watching him, Zheng Xin remarked, “Daoist, why didn’t you ask my father for another mat back in Lin’an?”

Shen Chang’an waved her off. “Daoists don’t travel much. I have no experience; I didn’t know. Enough—go to sleep.”

Zheng Xin snorted, knowing he wasn’t telling the truth, and ignored him, taking out a packet of dry rations to eat in silence.

Shen Chang’an simply lay down, not even bothering to eat.

Halfway through, Zheng Xin felt guilty and tried to invite Shen Chang’an to join her, but he insisted he’d already eaten, refusing her offer. So now Zheng Xin sulked, eyeing Shen Chang’an with growing displeasure.

When she finished her rations, she also lay down and went to sleep, paying everything else no mind.

...

In the middle of the night.

Zheng Xin lay on the stone pedestal, truthfully unable to sleep well. Though she’d trained herself, sleeping on a stone in the wild was still uncomfortable, and she couldn’t rest properly.

Half in a dream, she suddenly felt something crawling onto her body.

She tensed but kept calm, not moving or striking out.

The thing slithered across her form, caressing her graceful figure, starting at her toes and moving upward. Oddly, it felt... human.

“So, Master Lingxiao, all proper on the surface, but actually a lecher at heart! Hmph, I’ll teach him a good lesson...”

She was about to jump up but thought better of it. “Wait, if I get up now, he’ll just dodge out of the way and pretend nothing happened. I’ll grab his hand when he gets close, then he won’t be able to run, and I’ll see how he faces me afterward!”

With her plan set, she let the hand roam upward, and when it reached her waist, she suddenly grabbed it and leaped up, shouting, “Shen Chang’an, I see what you—”

She froze mid-shout. What she’d caught wasn’t a human wrist, but a thick vine.

“What do you want to see?”

Shen Chang’an’s calm voice sounded beside her ear. Zheng Xin shuddered, turned, and saw Shen Chang’an standing behind her, watching with a half-smile.

“You, this is...”

Zheng Xin’s heart pounded with fright. She quickly released her grip, and the vine swiftly withdrew, retreating into the stone pedestal beneath her.

“What is that thing?!”

Zheng Xin was filled with revulsion—had she really let that thing crawl over her body just now?

Shen Chang’an put a finger to his lips for silence and gestured for her to jump onto the beam, leading the way. Zheng Xin hurried after him, whispering, “What was that?”

Shen Chang’an chuckled softly. “Probably a vine that’s become sentient.”

“You knew all along?”

Shen Chang’an shrugged. “The Hall of Loyalty’s map was compiled by who knows how many people, yet this village isn’t marked. Do you think I didn’t already know?”

Zheng Xin flushed. She’d always looked down on the lower disciples of the Hall, thinking they were all troublemakers with little use. So when she saw the village missing from the map, she just assumed someone had been neglectful. She’d forgotten that the map was the product of countless brothers’ collaborative effort, not something explained by mere negligence.

“Wait, so you knew from the start that the pedestal was suspicious?”

Shen Chang’an shrugged with a teasing smile. “Of course not. The only decorated fixture in the entire room? Who would ever suspect the pedestal?”

Zheng Xin’s face flushed scarlet. “I—I didn’t know the village was suspicious either...”

Shen Chang’an shrugged and said quietly, “Let’s hope you remember this lesson. Next time, you might not be so lucky.”

Zheng Xin fell silent, her spirits dampened. She knew she’d lost this round completely, and Zheng Huyi had been right to keep her from traveling. Without Shen Chang’an tonight, she very likely would have been dragged away by whatever lurked beneath the pedestal.

“What do we do now?” Zheng Xin whispered.

Shen Chang’an frowned, then after a long pause, replied, “Wait and see.”

“You want to wait? You think there’s more?”

Shen Chang’an nodded quickly. “A single vine couldn’t have wiped out an entire village, nor could it have kept it hidden from the map. There’s something much bigger going on here. If I want to solve it once and for all, I have to wait and watch.”

Zheng Xin grew excited. “Great! The two of us, working together, will drive out this demon! For the world—for the people—we’ll accomplish something grand!”

Shen Chang’an gave her an odd look, then said, “Actually, there’s something I’ve never told you.”

He suddenly interrupted, leaving Zheng Xin surprised, but she asked, “What is it?”

“Actually, I’m a hidden tycoon, with vast, unimaginable wealth. Combined with the emperor’s treasury, my fortune is enough to shake the nation!”

Zheng Xin stared, pondering this for a moment before replying, “But isn’t that just because the emperor’s treasury is big? What does that have to do with you?”

Shen Chang’an nodded. “Exactly—what does it have to do with me?”

Suddenly realizing, Zheng Xin’s eyes widened. “Are you saying I’m useless?”

Shen Chang’an shrugged, saying nothing, but the look on his face made his meaning clear.

Zheng Xin bristled with annoyance, ready to retort, but Shen Chang’an stopped her.

“Look, something’s happening outside!”

Through the open door, Zheng Xin saw a group of more than ten people passing by outside. In their midst, they were carrying a young man tightly bound with vines.