Zhou Yan's eyes widened slightly as a vague silhouette appeared in the mist ahead.
The figure stood about four feet tall. It had a triangular head with black markings, deep brown rings around its eyes, short, broad ears that stuck out slightly, and round, dark brown eyes. It was a weasel standing upright.
In other words, what people commonly called a "Yellow Immortal."
The weasel spirit gazed at the people in the convoy, excitement and greed in its eyes. It slowly asked, "Do I look like a human or a god to you?"
It actually spoke human words. Quite a few people were terrified.
Zhou Yan raised an eyebrow, a sharp glint in his eyes.
This weasel spirit certainly had a big appetite.
Ordinarily, when a weasel spirit sought a blessing, it would ask, "Do I look like a human to you?"
If the person it asked replied, "You look like a human," the weasel spirit could save itself decades, or even a century, of hard cultivation and transform directly into human form.
But the person granting it that blessing would lose their own good fortune, and their family and ancestors might suffer as well. Several generations could be left unable to recover.
After all, those asked by weasel spirits for a blessing were generally people with a certain measure of good fortune.
They might not become kings, nobles, generals, or ministers, but they could at least enjoy a life of wealth and status.
But once their good fortune had been taken, their fate would be utterly miserable.
If they encountered a spirit that understood gratitude, that might be all right. Perhaps it would lend a hand, and the two parties would help each other, making for a heartwarming tale.
But most spirits were savage, living on raw flesh and