Zhaxi looked toward Qu Zan and his companions in some embarrassment. The joy on his face froze in place, leaving him rather at a loss.
When Qu Zan heard the old servant Puwang say they had no need of an expert, he felt slightly relieved.
He had never intended to meddle in other people's affairs. Days of travel and cultivation had exhausted him in body and mind.
Avoiding another entanglement with an evil presence and finding somewhere to spend the night in peace was undoubtedly the best outcome.
Luosang asked, "Then could our caravan spend the night at the Manor? We only need to pitch a tent on the grounds."
The old servant looked Luosang up and down, then said, "I'll have to go back and ask my master."
With that, he shut the door, apparently going inside to consult his master.
Soon, the old servant opened the door again. Pointing outside the entrance, he said, "You can pitch your tents on the open ground by the gate."
Luosang smiled calmly. Though they could not enter the Manor, staying somewhere close to it was not bad. At least there was no snow here.
Inside the carriage, Qu Zan asked Zhulin, "What is a Qingke Rice Witch, if I may ask?"
Zhulin said, "They possess the uncanny art of Rice Divination and are generally elderly women. She is versed in secret arts that use highland barley as a medium, using the grains to bestow blessings, drive out evil, lay curses, divine fortunes-"
"Rice Divination? Is that an art of the Outer Dao?"
"Yes. Some say this secret art originated with shamans, others say it came from Bön. But since it is mostly practiced in villages, and only foolish men and women believe in it, the monasteries pay it little heed."