Who Did You Say Liked Me More?

Even now, the memory of last night's "summoning" made Daoist Zhou's heart tighten.

He stood before the altar. Until last night, he had shared Master Qian's opinion.

The trouble at the Qian household looked like a personal vendetta.

Even if the culprit was not trying to extort a "windfall from a death," using dead people to frighten the family and deny the household peace would make sense.

But last night's soul-summoning ritual had given Daoist Zhou another idea.

This did not look like someone using dead people to scare them.

The Qian family had drawn ghosts to them.

That was why Daoist Zhou was exceedingly cautious about this divination by summoning spirits.

He said, "You two, guard my flanks. Fetch Fa Ming and have him draw a circle with incense ash.

"Remember, he must not miss a single spot. There cannot be a gap in the circle."

The two disciples hurriedly cupped their hands. "Yes!"

Mr. Zhou watched all three disciples.

Two stood guard while one drew the circle.

These disciples had helped him perform many rituals, yet whenever something this crucial was involved, Daoist Zhou still gave instructions again and again, then checked and checked again.

For one reason alone: the stakes were too high.

A complete circle meant an enclosed space.

If even one gap appeared in it, it would be like opening a doorway with no door in the circle. Disaster would follow.

As for having two disciples guard him, that was a limitation he could do nothing about.

Some Daoists could turn pure qi into guardian generals for their altars. Others had spirit soldiers protecting them while they performed rituals.

Mr. Zhou could do neither.

His training was simply too eclectic.

Even among the folk arts of the shamanic tradition, there were higher and lower forms of spellcraft and cultivation. He feared that one careless move would leave him trapped among vicious ghosts in the underworld.

Then there truly would be no path back to the living.

So every time his disciples finished their work, he inspected it himself.

He never tired of it.

And no one could blame him.

Outside, meanwhile, things were different.

With a grim face, Qian Dayou signaled the household guards to carry the coffins over one by one and set them by the door.

They were called coffins, but they were really just a few thin planks.

Coffins like these had a mocking nickname these days: "dog-feed coffins."

Once buried, they would soon be dug up by wild dogs, which would eat the bodies inside.

But even knowing that, what could anyone do? Leave the dead unburied? Roll them in a mat and dump them by the roadside?

They could not.

A thousand words came down to three: there was no choice.

Qian Dayou, of course, had a choice.

He had bought these coffins simply because there was no need to buy better ones.

The wealthy merchant stood outside the door, eyes like a hungry tiger's, turning prayer beads in his hand as he watched.

The longer he watched, the darker his face grew.

Under Qian Dayou's gaze, the servants all worked faster.

A little while later, a gaunt, stooped middle-aged man walked in, a purple-clay teapot in one hand.

At the sight of him, Qian Dayou did not dare put on airs. His expression changed at once, and he went forward to greet him. "Third Brother, what brings you here?"

The gaunt man was the Qian family's clerk in the local county office. Everyone else called him Third Master.

He was no good man, so the people of the county secretly called him "Biting Monkey."

"Monkey" described both his scrawny frame and his monkey-like cunning.

"Biting" came from a local expression meaning to sink one's teeth in and refuse to let go.

In his case, it meant he hounded people like a dog: vicious, cunning, and frightening.

He and his brother Market Tiger were birds of a feather.

Seeing the household in disarray, Third Master asked, "You've brought the gentleman here?"

"Yep. He's performing a ritual inside," Qian Dayou said.

"Is Mother all right?" Third Master asked.

"She took her medicine and went to sleep," Qian Dayou said.

"Good. Let the gentleman work. Come with me," Third Master said.

Qian Dayou followed Third Master to a side hall.

When he saw that no one else was around, Third Master said, "I found out what we needed to know. I'm afraid it isn't anyone local moving against us. I seized the Beggar Chief and a few ruffians. They don't have the nerve.

"Nor do they have the ability. As for the rest of the county's lowlifes..."

Third Master gave a contemptuous snort.

"I knew it," Qian Dayou said.

But when he saw Third Master's expression, Qian Dayou immediately fell quiet. "What? Is there something else?"

"People from the Earth-Fire Cult seem to have appeared near our county," Third Master said.

Qian Dayou said nothing.

The room fell so silent a falling needle could have been heard.

Only after a long while did Qian Dayou ask, "Could the report be wrong?"

"It can't be," Third Master said.

Qian Dayou's face crumpled with worry. "You mean the Earth-Fire Cult is behind what happened to our family?"

"Not necessarily. The world's in chaos. It could have been someone else," Third Master said.

Qian Dayou immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

"The magistrate plans to send troops to wipe out this band of Earth-Fire Cult people soon," Third Master said. "Keep your head down these next few days, and be careful at every turn.

"Hire more guards. Mother's safety comes first."

"I know, I know."

Qian Dayou nodded repeatedly. After personally seeing Third Master out, he turned his prayer beads, unable to settle his mind.

The Earth-Fire Cult!

This was not the first time those people had appeared.

Last time, they had dug up graves, used people to make elixirs, and stolen infants.

The crimes had been so grave that the county office and the local gentry had joined forces to hunt them down as soon as they appeared.

But now—

"Why can't anyone kill the lot of them!"

Qian Dayou trembled.

The Earth-Fire Cult was unlike other religious societies.

Its members operated in utter secrecy. They did not recruit entrenched local powers like Qian Dayou, nor did they care about local strongmen like Third Master.

They were bandits through and through, tyrants of mountain and river alike. Once they set their sights on a family, ruin and death followed!

He paced slowly back and forth, growing ever more anxious. After some time, a servant came looking for him.

"Master," the servant said to Qian Dayou, "Mr. Zhou has sent word."

"He's not dead. Of course he can speak! What did he say?" Qian Dayou snapped.

The servant grew even more frightened but forced himself to answer. "Mr. Zhou asked you to come and have a look. He said you might need to bring in someone else to help."

"Someone else? Who?" Qian Dayou asked.

"A Corpse Sewer," the servant said.

"A Corpse Sewer? What does my family's trouble have to do with a Corpse Sewer?" Qian Dayou asked.

Outside the Lost-Track Forest.

Xu Feng emerged from the forest, his face and clothes covered in grime.

His tall, thin master came out behind him, bringing up the rear. The master looked thoroughly pleased with his disciple. They stepped over a burning brazier together, and its flames leaped three feet high, startling Xu Feng.

"It's all right. The fire is just driving away the ill fortune," his master said from behind him.

Still shaken, Xu Feng looked back again. According to his master, the Lost-Track Forest had not always been so fierce and forbidding, or so vast.

Too many people had died there, and that had given the place its eerie, sinister air.

The fire in the brazier was still burning!

There had only been a few sheets of paper inside.

By rights, they should have burned out long ago.

It would have been a stroke of luck for them to burn for even a few blinks.

Yet from the moment Xu Feng and his master entered the forest until now, not only were the three incense sticks before the brazier still burning, but so was the fire inside it.

That was his master's doing.

But something beyond the matter of the brazier had surprised Xu Feng even more.

While he was in the forest, he had heard the game's notifications.

[Through your actions in "Rescuing the Lost in the Lost-Track Forest," you saved innocent, wronged souls. The Land Spirit of Luoyin County's favor toward you increased slightly.]

[Through your actions in "Rescuing the Lost in the Lost-Track Forest," you saved innocent, wronged souls. The Day Patrol God of Luoyin County's favor toward you increased slightly.]

[Through your actions in "Rescuing the Lost in the Lost-Track Forest," you saved innocent, wronged souls. The Night Patrol God of Luoyin County's favor toward you increased slightly.]

Xu Feng had been too busy to say anything then, but now it sank in.

Who did you say? Whose favor toward me increased?