Li Zhi

"RING RING RING!!!" An ear-piercing bell-sound cut through the shouting in an instant. Everyone present winced and covered their ears.

As the ringing slowly faded, Li Huowang's sword was already resting against the man's neck.

"Heh heh, Reverend, what are you doing?" The man's face showed no panic even as the sharp blade pressed against his throat.

"You ask me what I'm doing? I should be asking you! What god were you summoning!?"

The soot-blackened blade pressed down slightly, leaving a thin line of blood.

Whatever god this man was summoning, it couldn't be anything good. He hadn't run into anything good since coming to this godforsaken place.

Sensing the misunderstanding, the man let out a quiet, dismissive laugh. "Reverend, you're not from around Siqi, are you? I wasn't summoning any god. I didn't even beat the drum—you can't summon a god like that. I was just demonstrating that I'm a spirit-dancer, that's all."

Just then, Xiaoman walked over and said in a low voice, "Mm, he's right. A spirit-dance does require drumming."

Li Huowang shot a glance at the colorful drum hanging from the man's waist, then slowly pulled his sword back, his face still taut with vigilance.

"Friend, don't pull jokes like this in the dead of night. It's easy to misunderstand. You'd better go."

The man looked over the wary Daoist before him for a moment, gave a sheepish nod, then turned to leave. "Alright then. My name is Li Zhi. Until we meet again. Let's go, E."

Without another word, he led the woman with the red bridal veil and disappeared straight into the dark forest path.

Only after they had vanished completely did Li Huowang turn back to the others. "No one sleeps tonight. Stay on guard. That guy might not have really left."

Better safe than sorry. A guy suddenly appearing out of nowhere in the middle of the night—who knew what his real intentions were.

With a few scattered replies of agreement, the human ingredients picked up their weapons and huddled around the campfire, sitting shoulder to shoulder.

Li Huowang grabbed a withered branch and tossed it into the fire. The blazing flames lit up the unease on everyone's faces.

The long night passed with the agonizing slowness of counting days. By morning, nothing had happened—except that everyone looked haggard.

"We'll rest until noon, then keep moving. Gouwa stands watch first." Li Huowang said, then slowly closed his eyes.

He didn't know how long he had been dozing when someone gently shook him awake. "Senior Brother Li… that man is back."

"Hm? What?" The news jolted Li Huowang fully awake. Turning his head, he saw Li Zhi from the night before, standing not far off with a smile on his face, together with his veiled wife.

"I thought it over half the night, and I think I got it—I scared you, didn't I? My apologies, my apologies. So I've come specially to make amends."

Sunlight filtered through the tree branches and fell on Li Zhi's slightly dark face, making the mole on his cheek stand out starkly.

If you took the drum off his waist, just from his appearance, he looked no different from a farmer who'd spent all year in the fields.

Under the bright sun, he seemed a lot safer than he had the night before.

After a quick mental calculation, Li Huowang formed a hand seal and returned the greeting. "Brother Li Zhi is too polite. I was the rash one yesterday."

Whatever this man's purpose, since a spirit-dancer was standing right in front of him, it would be a waste not to pry some information out of him.

"I just heard from this young lady that you're also surnamed Li? What a coincidence. I'm a Li too. Maybe we were from the same clan five hundred years ago!"

Li Zhi, wearing a friendly smile, walked two steps closer with the ease of an old friend, coming right up to Li Huowang.

"Brother Li Zhi, where are you headed?"

"Oh, my family's Black Third Great-Grandmother is having a big birthday in a few days. I'm heading over early to offer my congratulations."

Big birthday? Li Huowang thought to himself. So spirit-dancers don't seem to be the same as monks or Daoists. They don't have to shed their worldly ties.

"Where is the Reverend heading with such a large group?" Li Zhi's eyes flickered slightly as he looked at the bloodstains on Li Huowang's Daoist robe.

"Liang" was Li Huowang's curt reply.

"Well now, that's quite a distance. Reverend's got a long, hard road ahead of him."

After a bit more back-and-forth, the tension between the two sides eased considerably—at least no one was ready to draw a sword anymore.

The wheels of the donkey cart began to turn, moving forward alongside a pair of red embroidered shoes.

"Not far ahead is Crescent Ditch. There's a stockade there. The Reverend can rest up for a few days there. After that, the next place with shelter is at least a fifteen-day journey. You know how it is—the borders are always sparsely populated and barren." Li Zhi gave directions with the warmth of an old friend.

"Thank you. But if I may ask, Brother Li Zhi, since you're a spirit-dancer, what immortal does your family enshrine?"

At Li Huowang's blunt question, even the woman under the red veil lifted her head slightly.

"Heh heh, I'm a disciple of the Bei School. Since you've asked, I won't be coy. May I ask, Reverend, which mountain and which gate do you belong to?"

"Western Mountain, Donghua Sect, Qingfeng Temple. Mysterious Yang." Li Huowang immediately trotted out the line Danyangzi had used.

He had no idea which sect the Western Mountain Donghua Sect was, but at least saying it this way made it sound like he had a tradition behind him, not like some fake Daoist.

Li Zhi shook his head with a short laugh. "Never heard of it. But then again, the world is a big place—who can know everything?"

Li Zhi was extremely talkative, and he always had a smile on his face. Being around him actually lifted the mood a little.

It wasn't long before it was time for lunch. They set up the stove and the pot to cook noodles. The river beside the road had grown wider, making it convenient.

Li Zhi didn't bother fetching any food from his own little bundle. He just squatted by the roadside with a grin and watched them, making everyone in Li Huowang's group feel uncomfortable.

"Brother Li Zhi, want some?"

"Ah, if you're offering, who am I to refuse! I haven't eaten anything since yesterday." Li Zhi scrambled over excitedly, grabbed a bowl, and reached for the noodles.

Bowl after bowl disappeared with a loud slurping, until Bai Lingmiao's brow was tightly creased.

"Senior Brother Li, that's almost three catties already… How can he eat so much? All that time he spent getting chummy with us—could he have just been after a meal?"

Everyone watched as Li Zhi fished the very last strand of noodle out of the pot. He didn't look embarrassed at all, just squatted under a tree and kept slurping.

Li Huowang walked over, squatted down beside him in the same posture, and said, "Is it enough? Want me to boil some more?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose. But I really am not full yet." Li Zhi took a big gulp of soup as he spoke.

"Boil another two catties of noodles!" Li Huowang called out toward the iron pot.

"How come you're the only one eating? Isn't your wife hungry?" Li Huowang's gaze drifted to the woman under the red veil. He noticed her fingernails were black—and very long.

"I'm the Lead Spirit, she's the Second Spirit. I eat, and that's enough." Li Zhi said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Oh? And why is that?"

The sound of slurping stopped. Li Zhi held up his right hand with the chopsticks, wiped his mouth with his elbow, turned his head with a grin, and said, "Heh heh, if the Reverend asks that many questions… are you thinking of becoming a chuma disciple yourself?"