The Wild White Rice

Chapter 39: Wild

Li Huowang glanced at the few silver ingots in Bai Lingmiao’s hands, then reached into his own pocket and added another one on top.

Before he could say anything, Bai Lingmiao rushed to speak first. “That gold anklet, it’s already been melted down. I saw it with my own eyes—it’s melted. There’s no getting it back.”

Seeing Li Huowang standing there with his mouth half-open, Bai Lingmiao smiled with a hint of triumph, as if she’d just won something. She scooped up the silver from her hands and pressed it into his chest.

“Don’t worry. That anklet was just something my mother gave me for emergencies. It wasn’t some family heirloom or precious treasure.”

Now that she’d said her piece, Li Huowang didn’t push it any further. He carefully counted the silver and tucked it away. “Once everything settles down, I’ll buy you a bigger one.”

“Mn! I’ll wait!” Bai Lingmiao nodded, still smiling.

Just then, the door swung open. Gouwa poked his head in from outside. He blinked at the two of them crouched by the wall, then immediately started backing out. “Wrong room. My apologies, I’ll just—”

Bai Lingmiao’s face turned red. She bolted toward the door, shoved him aside, and ran off.

Gouwa sauntered in with a cheeky grin. “Brother Li, I know Sister Bai is a little pale all over, but when it comes to picking a wife, looks aren’t what matter—it’s her character. Don’t go getting picky now.”

Li Huowang couldn’t be bothered with his nonsense. “Cut the chatter. Wash up and get some sleep. We finally have a proper bed.”

—

In a hazy, drifting state, Li Huowang found himself in an old forest. A vague light flickered somewhere ahead. Frowning, he used his sword to chop through the branches and headed toward the glow.

When he got closer, he saw Bai Lingmiao and the others—along with his mother and Yang Na—sitting around a campfire, roasting dried sweet potatoes.

The warmth of the scene made him exhale in relief. He took a step toward them.

But then the world twisted.

Li Huowang looked up to find Danyangzi—towering a hundred zhang tall, three-headed, his entire body covered in feathers—standing there like a mountain.

“Hahaha, good work, boy! You’ve brought the ingredients along, haven’t you?”

The horrifying Danyangzi laughed, raised a stone pillar that dwarfed even his own height, and slammed it down onto the campfire below.

—

“Wait!”

Li Huowang shot upright, drenched in cold sweat. He took a few deep breaths, his heart still pounding, before he realized it had all been just a dream.

“Brother Li, you’re awake? I bought you some flat-food. Eat it while it’s hot.” Gouwa, who had been watching the street, pulled his head back inside the window.

“What time is it?” Li Huowang pressed a hand to his throbbing head and sat down at the table. The flat-food looked a lot like wontons.

“Just past the Chen hour. No rush getting up—we don’t have to travel today.”

Li Huowang picked up the ceramic spoon and shoveled the wontons into his mouth. A few big gulps and they were gone. “Who says we don’t have anything to do today? Come on. We’re buying supplies for the road.”

The image of his dream flickered through his mind. He spoke again. “I’ll take someone else to buy the supplies. You go ask Lü Zhuangyuan when we can leave. The sooner, the better. If he can’t go now, we’ll go on ahead without him.”

—

Li Huowang still had some silver left from buying the donkey cart, plus the extra coins Bai Lingmiao had given him. He could afford to pick up a few more essentials.

At the very least, they needed quilts and mats, so they wouldn’t have to curl up next to the campfire every night with their backs burning and their fronts cold.

A cooking pot would be nice, too—then they could have hot meals on the road instead of living on dry rations.

Little by little, the pile of odds and ends grew. One donkey cart wasn’t going to cut it. By the time he met up with Lü Zhuangyuan at the city gate, there was already a second cart in tow.

“Heh, you’ve got talent, little Daoist. The further we go, the more gear you pile up. Give it half a year or so, and you’ll probably be rolling in money.” Lü Zhuangyuan, as always, kept up the flattery even while driving the cart.

“Troupe Master Lü, how far is it from Jianye to Xijing?” Li Huowang asked, looking at the wide dirt road ahead.

The road was broader now, with more people on it. His group and Lü’s group weren’t the only ones—there were plenty of other travelers carrying bundles, all apparently heading to Xijing.

“Not far. Another ten days or so and we’ll be there.” Lü Zhuangyuan’s face lit up, as if he was thinking about something that made him happy.

Li Huowang nodded. “That Buddhist temple you mentioned—aside from their reputation for helping people pray for sons, what else do you know about them?”

“Pfft, a temple’s a temple, isn’t it? What’s there to know? Every temple’s the same—a bunch of old monks with a bunch of little monks chanting sutras and eating vegetarian.”

Li Huowang sighed inwardly. He’d have to ask around himself. Lü Zhuangyuan was just a commoner, drifting through life without really thinking about such things.

“Little Daoist, look. There’s a monk up ahead—the one taking a leak under the tree. Ask him if you want. He might be from that temple.”

“Oh?” Li Huowang looked up. There really was a bald man standing by the roadside.

He walked over. As he approached, the man in the tattered robe shook himself dry and turned around.

But when Li Huowang saw his face, he frowned.

He was supposed to be a monk, but he looked more like an old beggar who’d shaved his head. Ragged doesn’t even begin to cover it— his robe was nothing but patches and holes.

“Amitabha. You looking for me?” The filthy old man grinned, revealing yellow gums with not a single front tooth left.

“You… you’re a monk?”

“That’s right! I’m a monk!” The old monk held up the string of fruit-pit beads around his neck, puffing himself up a little.

“May I ask, Venerable One, which temple do you belong to?” Li Huowang’s voice was already tinged with suspicion.

“I don’t have one yet. I’m heading north to look. Heard there’s plenty of temples up there, and they even feed you. I’m planning to become a monk there.”

Hearing this, Li Huowang’s suspicions were all but confirmed. He nodded flatly, turned around, and headed back to his own group.

But the moment Li Huowang decided to ignore this old beggar pretending to be a monk, the man stuck to him like a burr.

“You’re looking for a temple too, eh? So we’re on the same road! But wait—aren’t you a Daoist? Shouldn’t Daoists not believe in the Buddha?”

Is this guy trying to play me? Li Huowang’s wariness spiked. He slapped the donkey’s rump and urged the group to hurry on, acting as if the old man didn’t exist.

He might have been ignoring him, but someone else wasn’t. The Fool, simple as he was, didn’t sense anything wrong.

“If you don’t… don’t bring any food… you’ll starve to death!”

“How could I starve? Look, the woods have everything! Wild fruit, wild mushrooms, wild vegetables.”

“I… I’ve eaten wild fruit too! I even…”

“Fool! Don’t talk to him!”

“Oh…”

When the old beggar, bored of getting no reaction, finally wandered off on his own, Li Huowang let out a breath. The Daoist bell in his hand was still clutched tight.

Fake or real, in this place, you can never be too careful around strangers.

—

They followed the dirt road for another hour. The sun was hanging directly overhead now. Seeing that many travelers had already squatted down to gnaw on their dry rations, Li Huowang told his group to do the same.

He was starting to feel anxious, but there was safety in numbers.

Fresh white steamed buns were handed out to everyone. They ate their midday meal with a few jars of pickled vegetables.

Taking the gourd from Bai Lingmiao, Li Huowang took a swig, then glanced around. Someone was missing. “Hey… where’s the Fool?”

“He went into the woods to take a piss. Why isn’t he back yet? Don’t tell me he’s squatting to take a dump in the middle of it. Hey! Fool! You in there?!”

As Gouwa shouted into the woods by the roadside, the Fool’s big, honest head poked out from the underbrush. His cheeks were puffed out, chewing something.

“What are you eating?” Li Huowang asked, puzzled.

“Woods… wild… wild… wild white rice. Don’t… don’t cost money!” The Fool grinned, then ducked back into the trees.