Qi WuHuo listened, rapt. At the words, he instinctively stepped forward, then took a few more steps around the rock. The full moon hung high in the sky, its light flowing down like water. The view before him suddenly opened up, and the person reciting poetry came into sight.
Beneath the full moon, an old man in a purple robe sat cross-legged on a slab of blue stone. His hair and beard were white, but he seemed full of vigor. A gourd hung at his waist, and a faint smile touched his lips as he beckoned Qi WuHuo over.
It was nearly winter, yet he had come across an old man in the mountains.
The man might have lost his way, but he might also have been a demon in disguise. Qi WuHuo pressed his lips together. His left hand gripped the place where his basket rested on his back, while his right moved down to his waist, where a small, razor-sharp dagger was tucked away.
Though young, he had managed to avoid being bullied by the town's ruffians. He could hardly have done so with book learning alone.
He walked a few steps closer and said, "It's already late, and winter is almost here. The mountains are especially cold. By the hour of the Ox, the cold can nearly freeze a person to death. Why are you still lingering here, old man?"
The many Immortal Learners around them naturally saw through the boy's actions.
The many hidden birds, beasts, spirits, and monsters nearby were nearly scared out of their wits. The old man before them was clearly someone of standing, possessed of great powers. He had come here and set up an unfathomably wondrous spell, drawing countless spirits and monsters to listen to his teachings. Though they did not know his identity, they all treated him with the utmost respect.
How had this boy stumbled in here, and how could he be so bold?
Nearby, a White-Forehead Tiger covered its mouth with a paw, eyes wide as a housecat's in the Mortal World. It was completely dumbstruck. Was this child really fearless, like a newborn calf that didn't fear a tiger?!
The old man didn't seem to think much of it. He merely stroked his beard, then suddenly smiled and pointed to his leg. "My home is in the western part of the Capital City. I came here to visit relatives and friends. The scenery on this mountain was lovely, so I climbed up to enjoy it. Before I knew it, I'd lost track of time. In my haste to get back down, I stepped wrong and hurt my leg."
"With no one ahead of me and no path behind, I could only sit here for a while and make some noise, hoping a woodcutter or mountain traveler who hadn't gone down yet might hear me and come help."
"Otherwise, with the mountain sealed by snow today, I'm afraid I'd die up here and be eaten by wild beasts."
The joke sent a shiver through the demons across the mountain. Qi WuHuo took a look. In the moonlight, the old man's leg did indeed appear injured. His guard eased somewhat, and he went over to examine the wound. It felt unmistakably like flesh and blood. The man was human, without a doubt.
Seeing that he was also an elderly man, Qi WuHuo's doubts faded considerably. He immediately crouched halfway and asked the old man to extend his injured leg. After gently pressing around it to check, he let out a breath of relief. "That's good, that's good. You haven't damaged the bone. Apply medicine to the wound and rest, and you should recover in about a month."
First, he set the old man's bones. Then he took out some dry rations and water from a bamboo tube for him to eat and drink. The old man smiled. "Little brother, do you know the Medicine art?"
Qi WuHuo bound the injured leg with strips of cloth, not looking up as he replied, "Five years ago, during the great disaster, I fled with a Teacher for a while. He taught me a few things."
The old man's expression shifted slightly. "So he was your Teacher?"
"Where is he now?"
Qi WuHuo paused in his work, then answered:
"When we passed through Bing Prefecture, he accidentally fell into the Demon Kingdom. There were hundreds of thousands of displaced commoners at the time. The Ghostly Demons ran a Marketplace by the roadside, selling people as food. To pass through the Demon Kingdom's checkpoint, you had to pay a hundred catties of 'vegetable meat.' He walked into the Marketplace himself and traded places with me."
"He said, 'Let the young live.'"
The old man's expression grew even more troubled. Suddenly, he felt his leg tighten: Qi WuHuo had pulled the bandage snug. The boy let out a quiet breath, then looked up with a smile. "That should take care of your leg, old man. But it's already late, and there may be heavy snow over the next few days."
"When the snow melts, the mountains will be bitterly cold. Even the blind bears will find somewhere to curl up and sleep. If you don't mind, you could stay at my home for a while, until your leg heals. Or I could carry you down to the town. It's remote, but there's an inn where you could stay."
The old man stroked his beard and smiled. "I feel I've taken quite a liking to you, little brother."
"If you don't mind an old man imposing on you, I'd be glad to spend a little more time with you."
Qi WuHuo looped a rope around his basket, hung it from his neck so it rested against his chest, then crouched slightly and let the old man climb onto his back. He stood up.
He often traveled through the forests, chopping and carrying firewood, so he was actually quite strong. Carrying an old man was nothing much to him, and his steps remained swift.
The night mist that had once shrouded everything was still thick, but now Qi WuHuo could see through it.
The old man lowered his eyes slightly. Wanting to test the boy's character, he let the mist remain, making it grow deeper and more obscure. The mountain path seemed treacherous, and the old man's weight steadily increased.
After ten steps, he still weighed no more than an ordinary old man.
After twenty, he weighed as much as a thirty-year-old man in his prime.
After more than a hundred steps, he was nearly as heavy as a stone statue. The burden was right at the limit of Qi WuHuo's strength: exhausting, but still bearable. His pace gradually slowed, yet he never stopped.
At last, night deepened.
With winter close at hand, the mountain beasts were ravenous, storing up enough fat to survive the bitter cold. The sky was a deep blue, and layer upon layer of tree silhouettes crowded the slopes. Wolves howled again and again, seeming to draw near.
Most ordinary people would have been trembling with fear by now.
Qi WuHuo's breathing had grown uneven, but his steps remained steady. He only lowered his right hand to rest on the dagger at his waist. Apart from that, the sweat-soaked clothes and the heat rising from the boy's neck were the only signs of how much strength he had spent.
The old man gave a faint, approving nod.
Suddenly, Qi WuHuo spoke quietly. "Sir, when we first met, I put my hand on my dagger. Then I invited you down the mountain. Both were somewhat rude of me. I hope you won't take offense. I smelled a demon, so I was worried."
The old man put on a look of astonishment. "A demon?"
"Yes," Qi WuHuo said.
"Can you smell demons?"
Qi WuHuo paused, then replied:
"If you've seen enough demons, you can learn to smell them."
The old man fell silent. From what Qi WuHuo had said about the Demon Kingdom and the great disaster, he could tell those memories were hardly the sort anyone would willingly revisit.
Suddenly, testing the boy's character like this seemed pointless.
Wasn't the boy's nature as clear as the moon?
He sighed inwardly and simply dispelled the spell.
Qi WuHuo didn't notice the old man's weight lighten in an instant.
An even more wondrous sensation flowed into his body, soothing the many hidden injuries left behind by the great disaster. Qi WuHuo felt his meridians open and ease in an instant. Yang energy rose from the soles of his feet, and his spent strength returned at once. When he looked up again, the night mist had dispersed, and he could just make out lights ahead.
Qi WuHuo couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Delighted, he said, "Old man, my town is here."
With that, he strode down the mountain, his steps swift as the wind, the old man on his back.
The moon shone clear overhead. The boy strode through the night. Traveling in the mountains after dark was usually perilous, but where mortal eyes could not see, a host of spirits and monsters guarded him, driving off the demons and ghosts. They moved in silence, like a dignified procession, solemn and imposing, with a fox carrying a candle at the front and a tiger padding along behind.
The packs of starving wolves and beasts did not dare approach. Even the wandering ghosts and demons, drawn by the mountain's gathered yin energy, dared not come near.
A Mountain God of this place happened to be out on a carefree night stroll. From afar, he saw the procession of spirits and monsters moving through the night and gaped in shock. Terrified, he retreated more than a hundred li. When he turned around, he found himself still within the same stretch of mist, with no way forward and no way back. His heart pounded even harder. Fearing that some Demon Saint or Earth Immortal was making a procession through the mountains, he hurriedly burned incense and prayed to the heavenly gods.
As Qi WuHuo descended the mountain, the old man looked back.
The night mist veiling a hundred li of mountains and rivers suddenly drew inward, growing smaller and smaller, until in the end it was no more than a wisp of purple gauze above the old man's hat.
Beyond that, the mountains and rivers were clear, the breeze gentle, and the moon bright.
That was all.
"Come along. Let's go back to your place."
"You carried me for twelve hundred steps. We've formed a good connection."
Before you continue