Wu Haishan cautiously backed off, then turned and asked Ah Guang, "Is there really such a rule?"
"There is. The village's rules are greater than heaven."
Xu Yuan sneered. If the village's rules weren't so strict, would you have gotten in? I'd have shut the gate first and left you outside.
Wu Haishan glared at Xu Yuan, gritted his teeth, and said, "Fine. We'll follow the rules."
The old man nodded in satisfaction. Hunched over, with his pipe clenched in his teeth and his hands clasped behind his back, he walked away. "Come with me. Anyone in the village with an empty room can let you stay the night, but you'll have to pay.
"How much you pay is between you and the homeowner."
Wu Haishan and the others exchanged glances, then followed closely behind Xu Yuan.
Wherever Xu Yuan stayed, they would stay too. At the very least, they had to be next door to him. Tomorrow, they absolutely couldn't let the little brat escape again.
Xu Yuan pulled out a box of Matches and handed it to the old man. "Uncle, sorry for the trouble. Please take me to Jiao Erbo's house."
Most villagers used flint and steel, which was nowhere near as convenient as Matches.
Xu Yuan had bought a batch of things from Granny Ying, and Matches were among them.
The old woman's legs were inconvenient, so whenever she went shopping, she liked to buy plenty and make fewer trips.
Her memory wasn't good either. Often, she'd bring her purchases home only to realize she hadn't finished using the last batch, and the supplies would keep piling up.
But if most people wanted any, Granny Ying wouldn't sell them. I'll just keep them.
The old man's face immediately broke into a smile. "You're a sensible young man. Come along."
The first two groups Xu Yuan had brought into the mountains had been genuine merchants.
From chatting with them on the road, Xu Yuan had learned that Jiao Erbo's home was the best place to stay in Wangxiang Village.
There weren't so many variables at his place.
Jiao Erbo had only one son, who was already in his twenties.
Jiao Erbo's wife had died, and his son hadn't managed to find a wife. As long as Xu Yuan didn't bring a woman to stay at their house, there wouldn't be any danger.
The village was roughly circular, with a massive old camphor tree at its center. For some unknown reason, it had already withered and died. Its bark had been stripped clean, leaving it standing there, bare and bone-white.
In the night, the dead tree looked like some enormous, clawing demon.
The old man led them past the dead camphor tree, then pointed with his pipe. "That's the place."
Jiao Erbo's home consisted of only two dilapidated thatched huts. It was pitch-black inside, with no way to light an oil lamp.
"Thank you, Uncle."
The old man waved a hand and walked off, puffing away on his pipe.
Xu Yuan stepped forward, knocked, and called, "Jiao Erbo."
A voice answered from inside. "Who is it?"
"I'm a friend of Zhang Sanlang, who came by a few days ago. I'm here to collect goods in the mountains and would like to stay the night. I'll pay you."
Footsteps approached the door. It opened, and a man in his forties looked Xu Yuan up and down. "Fifteen copper coins for one night."
Xu Yuan took out the money. "I know the rules. I'll pay first."
Jiao Erbo took the money, left the door open for Xu Yuan to enter on his own, then turned back to the bed and gathered his clothes in his hands. "You stay here. I'll squeeze in with my son."
There were neighbors on both sides of Jiao Erbo's house. Wu Haishan gave his men a look, and each went to knock on a door and ask the price, ready to settle in.
The household on the left opened its door. Only a mother and daughter lived there. The mother came to answer; she had an inverted-triangle face, eyes set high, and a long, skinny frame. She looked like a praying mantis.
"Fifty taels."
"What?!" The Martial Cultivator thought she'd misheard.
The mother reached to shut the door, but the Martial Cultivator hurriedly stopped her. "They're asking for fifteen copper coins. You want fifty taels of silver?"
"That's our price," the mother said stubbornly.
The Martial Cultivator suppressed his anger. "You're being unreasonable. How about this? I'll give you a hundred coins, far more than the people next door are charging."
The mother's eyes shifted as she sized him up. "You really want to bargain?"
If I don't bargain, I'd be an idiot! the Martial Cultivator thought.
"Fine, a hundred coins will do. Come in." The mother suddenly turned warm and welcoming.
The Martial Cultivator thought, What a nest of bandits in these impoverished mountains. She must think I'm a fat sheep.
The other two stayed next door on the right. One had a broken arm, so the two of them could look after each other.
A husband and wife in that household were raising six children. The four older ones were six years old, and the two younger ones were four.
A litter of quadruplets and a litter of twins.
The couple both had round faces and round eyes, but their mouths were sharp. They looked like a pair of owls.
The couple asked for "two pigs." After bargaining, the two sides settled on a hundred and fifty coins.
After his men had settled in, Wu Haishan took Ah Guang behind Jiao Erbo's house, where there was another household.
Wu Haishan couldn't help asking Ah Guang in a low voice, "Does everyone in this village ask for sky-high prices?"
Ah Guang replied righteously, "The people of Wangxiang Village are simple and honest, fair to young and old alike! The villagers don't make unreasonable demands."
Wu Haishan was about to mock him when he suddenly sensed something was wrong. He whipped around and saw a dark figure crouched on the branch of the enormous dead camphor tree. Its eyes glowed yellow in the darkness, its body was covered in feathers, and it stared straight at him.
Wu Haishan stumbled, nearly tripping over himself.
But when he looked again, he saw that the figure on the tree was actually a tall old man wearing a cloak pieced together from various feathers and a pair of old, copper-legged glasses with yellow crystal lenses.
Wu Haishan asked quietly, "Is that the Mountain Runner of Wangxiang Village?"
"Yes," Ah Guang answered.
The Old Mountain Runner crouched on the branch, staring fixedly at Wu Haishan. Wu Haishan didn't dare say anything bad about the village again.
At the other household's door, the owner immediately demanded thirty taels of silver. Wu Haishan didn't even dare bargain—the Old Mountain Runner's gaze behind him felt like two blades pressed against his back—so he promptly handed over the silver.
Only after he entered the house did that feeling disappear. Wu Haishan let out a long breath of relief.
After resting a while and relaxing, Wu Haishan noticed the blisters on his arm, scalded by the water, hurt especially badly. He took out a small silver knife, intending to lance one and treat it.
Just before he did, Wu Haishan suddenly had a thought and asked Ah Guang, "Can I lance it?"
"No. Zhang San's Dad's blisters harbor Consumption Sickness. If you lance one, his consumption will infect you, and you'll be dead within a month."
Wu Haishan thought that, as a Pill Cultivator, he could cure illnesses, but after considering it, decided not to take the risk.
"Then how should I treat it?"
"Prepare some gifts and go apologize to Zhang San's Dad. He'll take the Consumption Sickness away."
Wu Haishan asked again, "Where does Zhang San's Dad live?"
"I don't know." Ah Guang truly didn't know. He was only a liquor deliveryman. He knew the Old Mountain Runner, but wasn't familiar with anyone else in the village.
In Ghost Witch Mountain, that was the one and only advantage Xu Yuan had over Ah Guang!
Xu Yuan had met plenty of merchants, so he was more familiar with the village.
Wu Haishan couldn't help cursing. "Why didn't you warn me while he was here...? Forget it." Wu Haishan took several deep breaths, then couldn't help saying,
"This mountain is seriously creepy!"
Before you continue