The convoy slowly entered the village, and the carts gathered together in its center.
Several drivers found a place to tend to the horses pulling the carts. These were the cart company's most important assets, and their food and supplies were actually far finer than those of the people.
The village had only twenty-odd households and a little over a hundred people. It had no dedicated inn or tavern.
Only two households offered food and lodging to passing merchants and travelers.
Including the drivers, the convoy numbered a full twenty people. The village was simply too small to accommodate them.
The villagers greatly respected Daoists and knew Zhou Wuji, so they still managed to clear out two sets of rooms for the Daoists to rest in.
One consisted of three tile-roofed rooms. Zhou Wuji shared one with Wuzheng, while Wuming took another with her senior sister.
Wuming's senior sister Wuye was in her thirties, with plain looks and a cautious, meticulous manner.
Zhou Wuji thought Wuye was decent. At least she had not bossed him around or interfered with Wuming joking with him. Clearly, she knew how to conduct herself.
Once they had settled in, the remaining Daoists could only squeeze together.
Fortunately, it was only October, neither hot nor cold. With a room to block the wind, they could sleep well enough.
Once Zhou Wuji and the others had settled in, the villagers brought them tea and food, taking the opportunity to ask for talismans and blessings.
Wuzheng and the other Daoists were well practiced at this and handled it with ease.
Wuye distributed talismans to the village women and children, offering a few auspicious words about blessings from the Heavenly Emperor.
Though such blessings had little effect, they satisfied the villagers' spiritual needs and offered them considerable comfort.
Taking advantage of his free time, Zhou Wuji made a circuit around the front and back of the village.
Previously, he had always traveled with his master and had not needed to think too much about safety.
That would no longer do. The closer he came to Siming County, the more careful he had to be.
Wuzheng was indeed a Daoist with Seventh-Rank Register Reception, but he probably would not fare too well against a seventh-rank martial artist.
Zhou Wuji mainly wanted to familiarize himself with the terrain, ensuring he knew where to run if something really happened.
Just then, another convoy entered the village.
It consisted of ten carts, all piled high with burlap sacks that appeared to contain grain.
Zhou Wuji glanced at it from a distance and recognized its leader as a steward from the Zhang Household's grain business. His name was Zhang Yuan, a lean man with a drooping mustache, shrewd and thoroughly mercenary.
He immediately understood. This was the Zhang Household's grain convoy. It had come from Siming County, yet only reached Old Cang Village this late. How slowly it had traveled!
Zhou Wuji already disliked Zhang Yuan's mercenary ways, and now that he had made an enemy of the Zhang Household, he naturally would not show himself and greet him.
Zhang Yuan's eyesight was nowhere near as good as Zhou Wuji's. He did not see Zhou Wuji, only the carts parked in the village.
Only after sending someone to ask did he learn that they actually belonged to Daoists from the Yunyang City branch temple, who were heading to Hidden Dragon Temple.
Zhang Yuan naturally dared not disrespect Wuming and the others, but the village was simply too small to free up any more rooms.
He could only have the carts form a circle and lay mats inside it, preparing to sleep in the open.
Fortunately, the weather was clear, so making do for one night would not be much trouble.
Zhang Yuan tactfully took the initiative to visit Wuzheng, bringing two tins of tea.
He had brought the convoy out to deliver grain, and the only thing he carried with him was the tea he enjoyed. It would do well enough as a gift; after all, they had had little contact before.
The gift expressed a humble attitude. Zhang Yuan mainly wanted to sound him out. After all, Wuzheng came from the branch temple. How did the branch temple intend to deal with Zhou Wuji?
Zhou Wuji had killed their eldest young master. The household head had flown into a rage and publicly declared that whoever killed Zhou Wuji would receive a hundred taels of gold!
Upright by nature, Wuzheng disliked socializing and thought even less of the slippery Zhang Yuan. He dismissed him after a few words.
Once Zhang Yuan left, Zhou Wuji came out of the bedroom and said to Wuzheng, "Senior brother, I feel something isn't right."
Wuzheng asked gravely, "What isn't right?"
After last night's battle, Wuzheng had gained a greater measure of respect for Zhou Wuji-the respect due an expert!
"Senior brother, you don't know Zhang Xinhu. He's forceful and domineering. With us traveling all this way, he must already know that I'm back."
Knowing that Wuzheng did not understand the situation, Zhou Wuji patiently analyzed it for him. "Siming County is only fifty-odd li from Old Cang Village. The Zhang Household's grain convoy shouldn't be stopping here."
Wuzheng still seemed puzzled. "You mean Zhang Xinhu deliberately sent the convoy here to meet us? What would that accomplish? Are there experts hidden among them?"
"Probably not. Siming County isn't small, but its seventh-rank martial artists can be counted on one hand."
Zhou Wuji shook his head. However much Zhang Xinhu hated him, he probably would not dare openly attack Daoists from the branch temple.
Old Cang Village belonged to the Li Household. Large groves of mountain pepper trees grew here, making it an important harvesting site for mountain pepper. It was important to the Li Household as well.
There were so many of them, along with over a hundred villagers. If even one escaped, it would bring a disaster that could wipe out his entire household and clan.
If something really happened in Old Cang Village, the Li Household would not let the matter rest either.
If Zhang Xinhu truly intended to strike in Old Cang Village, he would certainly find someone else to do it, so he could extricate himself afterward.
Zhou Wuji mentally went over the various forces in Siming County. The great households were naturally the strongest, but the other great households could not possibly help Zhang Xinhu kill people from the branch temple.
Even if the Fang Household hated him, they lacked both the courage and the strength.
There was also a guard post under the Pacification Office in the county, with a seventh-rank expert stationed there.
Though the Pacification Office was an imperial organization, it specialized in dirty work. Give those people enough money, and there was nothing they would not dare do.
Still, Zhang Xinhu probably lacked the nerve to work with those fellows who devoured people without spitting out the bones...
Apart from them, there were only those fanatical Yin Yang Dao followers.
The Yin Yang Dao was not a Daoist sect, but a faith spread in secret. Its doctrines were sinister and strange, and it often gathered crowds to foment unrest. The imperial court had branded it a demonic cult and cracked down harshly on it everywhere.
Even so, the Yin Yang Dao still had large numbers of followers among the common people and was a force that could not be underestimated.
Zhou Wuji knew that none of the county's great households had clean hands. In private, they all had dealings with mountain bandits and Yin Yang Dao followers.
It would make perfect sense for Zhang Xinhu to recruit some Yin Yang Dao lunatics to kill them.
The problem was that although the Yin Yang Dao followers were all lunatics, their strength was not particularly impressive.
Perhaps Zhang Xinhu had hired a seventh-rank expert from elsewhere?
With enough money, even ghosts could be made to turn the millstone.
Many seventh-rank martial artists roamed the jianghu. Hiring one with money probably would not be too difficult.
The difficulty lay in finding someone in such a short time and having them strike in Old Cang Village.
For the moment, Zhou Wuji could not figure out Zhang Xinhu's methods, but he simply felt that something was wrong. The grain convoy's arrival was far too much of a coincidence!
He also knew that unsupported words would have difficulty persuading Wuzheng.
But this concerned everyone's lives, so he had to warn Wuzheng.
Seeing that Zhou Wuji could offer no clear reasoning, Wuzheng could not help frowning slightly.
He understood Zhou Wuji's wariness of Zhang Xinhu, but issuing such a solemn warning merely because they had encountered the Zhang Household's grain convoy seemed rather like making a mountain out of a molehill.
They were Daoists from the branch temple. How many extra guts would Zhang Xinhu need to dare plot against them?
Wuzheng had witnessed Zhou Wuji's swordsmanship last night, and Zhou Wuji had also saved Junior Sister Wuming, so he still attached great importance to him.
After considering for a moment, he said, "Lives are at stake, so we certainly can't be careless. I'll tell the others to stand watch in pairs and not let their guard down..."
"Senior brother, you're experienced and prudent. That's a sound approach." Zhou Wuji nodded in agreement.
He knew Wuzheng did not believe his judgment, but he truly could not produce any strong evidence. Saying more would be useless and would only damage their relationship.
Leaving the room, Zhou Wuji first went to Wuming and warned her not to sleep too deeply that night. It would be best if she and Wuye took turns keeping watch.
Wuming's beautiful, bright eyes shifted in puzzlement. "What danger could there be?" she asked.
"Hard to say. It never hurts to be careful."
Zhou Wuji asked, "Besides the Northern Dipper Heavenly Gang Divine Talisman, what protective magical implements do you have?"
"None."
Wuming shook her head, then said with a touch of pride, "But I'm proficient with the White Eyebrow Needle."
As she spoke, she extended her fair hand. Two silver needles, each two inches long and as fine as hairs, rested on her palm.
Before Zhou Wuji's eyes, Wuming flipped her hand, and the two silver needles shot into the wooden door seven paces away.
The silver needles were so fine that they sank over an inch into the wood almost soundlessly.
Zhou Wuji was a little surprised. Sending such featherlight silver needles so far, with such penetrating power, could indeed be called impressive.
However, silver needles like these had too little killing power. Unless they struck someone's eyes, a hit anywhere else would cause almost no substantial damage.
In a life-and-death struggle, throwing silver needles would instead enrage the enemy.
Though he thought this, he still offered a few words of praise. His praise delighted Wuming, filling her bright eyes with smiles.
Zhou Wuji said no more. Wuming had grown up in the branch temple, living comfortably and easily, and had never witnessed the cruelty and terror of the jianghu. Saying more to her would serve no purpose.
He made a circuit around the front and back of the rooms and made some preparations.
When he returned, Wuzheng was resting in the eastern bedroom. Zhou Wuji sat in a bamboo chair in the outer room and checked the talismans, steel balls, and Yin Thunder Pearl he carried.
Unfortunately, he had no finely milled flour, leaving him one killing move short.
With his current swordsmanship and Fire Bell Incantation, using a dust explosion would give him a chance to kill even a seventh-rank martial artist.
Zhou Wuji laid his sword across his knees, swallowed a Grain Avoidance Pill, and silently circulated his Qi and regulated his breathing.
Whether anything happened tonight or not, it was always right to be prepared.
A band of armored renegade soldiers had already arrived in the mountain pepper grove outside the village.
Their leader, Wang Jing, wore all-steel lamellar armor and held a five-foot goose-quill saber, gazing coldly down at Old Cang Village.
Looking down from the hillside, the houses were barely visible in the darkness. Most conspicuous was the fire burning in the village center.
Wang Jing watched silently for a while. Two soldiers in lamellar armor hurried over, both habitually dropping to one knee and cupping their fists in salute. One reported, "Battalion commander, the convoy steward is here."
Zhang Yuan approached with his back bowed and a fawning smile. "General."
Wang Jing pressed his lips together without correcting the mistaken form of address. He asked coldly, "Where are Zhou Wuji and that seventh-rank Daoist staying?"
"In the courtyard directly opposite their convoy. Three rooms. I didn't see Zhou Wuji, but I imagine he's inside too..." Zhang Yuan had used the gift delivery as an opportunity to examine the rooms carefully and gave a fairly detailed account.
Afraid his explanation was unclear, he even drew a simple map with a piece of charcoal.
Wang Jing examined the map and nodded in satisfaction. He told his men, "Qian Yong and I will each lead a squad and attack that seventh-rank Daoist from front and rear. Assign another five men to block the roads out of the village with bows. Not a single person is to escape alive!"
The soldiers answered in unison.
Squad leader Qian Yong asked quietly, "Battalion commander, what about the Zhang Household's convoy?"
Wang Jing sneered. "We'll do Zhang Xinhu a favor and kill them all too!"
Standing beside him, Zhang Yuan heard every word. His face went deathly pale with fright, and he was about to speak when Wang Jing swept his five-foot goose-quill saber sideways, sending Zhang Yuan's head flying.
Wang Jing kicked Zhang Yuan's headless corpse aside and told the soldiers, "There are some women in the village. Once we've killed all the Daoists and the Zhang Household's convoy, you brothers can enjoy yourselves here..."
At these words, the renegade soldiers excitedly answered in unison once more.