I Told You to Stop Drumming

Seeing Li Huowang attacked, one of the distant Wandering Lords wheeled back and slammed into the Second Spirit.

But what had always been a disembodied presence now met unyielding bone. The Wandering Lord struck the Second Spirit but did not sink in—it rebounded, knocked backward by the impact.

“AAAAHH!!” A savage howl, and a thick wooden club swung through the air. It grazed Li Huowang’s face and smashed into the Second Spirit’s head.

A wet, tearing sound. Skin and flesh ripped. Though the Second Spirit was sent flying, a large chunk of meat was torn from Li Huowang’s shoulder along with it.

The searing pain nearly made him pass out, but he couldn’t afford to. He shoved two bottles into Gouwa’s hands as the man tried to support him.

“One’s poison, one’s knockout powder. Put them on your blades. Hold that thing off.”

He couldn’t fight on two fronts. He had to deal with one side.

Half the Second Spirit’s skull was gone, yet it still struggled to rise. Gouwa, clutching his own head, looked like his legs were turning to jelly. “Brother Li, are you sure this stuff will work on it?”

Xiaoman snatched both bottles from him without a word. Gritting her teeth, she steeled herself and charged. “Who cares if it works! We’ll find out when we use it!”

Li Huowang knew this wasn’t ideal, but there was no time to worry about it. If he didn’t take care of Li Zhi, the spirit immortals would just keep coming.

In the distance, three Wandering Lords orbited Li Zhi, trying to get close, but something invisible was blocking them.

Seeing Li Huowang approach, Li Zhi tugged at his own belly skin and sang on, his voice straining.

“Old immortal, on your way, don’t forget the three treasures, three treasures, treasures three—the demon-binding chain, the spirit-lasso, and the soul-bottle at your steed. Throw these treasures on your disciple! If grip is loose, use your feet; if the rope is slack, kick it tight, hey—”

When Li Zhi finished, he raised the short whip he used to beat the drum and slashed it through the air toward Li Huowang.

Nothing visible appeared, but the Wandering Lords clearly sensed something.

One of them shot back and positioned itself in front of Li Huowang.

A moment later, a sharp crack rang out. The Wandering Lord, a thing of tangled lines and form, simply burst apart.

Li Zhi slashed again, his gesture tracing another line through the air. If it connected, Li Huowang would end up just like that Wandering Lord.

In that hair’s breadth, Li Huowang reached behind his back, grabbed the Heavenly Scripture, and held it in front of himself like a shield.

Clang. His arm went numb from the impact. “Blocked it! This thing really is tough!”

Holding the scripture up like a shield in one hand and ringing the bell with the other, he grit his teeth and closed in on Li Zhi.

With a sharp shake of his head, the number of Wandering Lords suddenly doubled.

“K’wai-lin-ts’an-chuh!” Li Huowang barked the command. The doubled Wandering Lords swarmed Li Zhi from all directions.

Li Zhi was barely holding on, but Li Huowang wasn’t much better off.

With so many Wandering Lords, he was hit by an overwhelming wave of nausea. His stomach churned, and his body instinctively wanted to vomit.

It was a contest of endurance now.

In the chaos, Li Huowang suddenly realized that in this state, he could see the spirit immortals blocking the Wandering Lords.

They were like white smoke, translucent and bizarre.

Human shapes. Beast shapes. Half-human, half-beast—every kind imaginable. And they kept shifting, changing with every passing moment.

Everything that made up their bodies trembled in time with Li Zhi’s drumming.

They were like a book. The moment he saw their form, Li Huowang understood them.

There were so many spirit immortals. They were everywhere, like things that had always been invisible and intangible.

If they wanted to touch the real world, they had to use a certain melody. The drumbeat was the key.

“The drum!” Snapping back to himself, Li Huowang ground his teeth and pushed forward, shaking the Daoist bell louder and louder.

As he got closer, the bell’s ring began to drown out the drum. The Wandering Lords’ defense started to break through.

Seeing how bad it was, Li Zhi’s expression hardened. His lips parted, and the corners of his mouth were instantly torn open. His scarlet tongue slid out like a snake’s forked tongue.

His voice shifted, turning into a mournful, keening wail. “Smoke—and—cloouud ahh—”

The moment he said it, a fierce wind howled around them. The drumbeat surged, overwhelming the bell once more.

A faint woman’s whisper started murmuring in Li Huowang’s ear. Everything before his eyes began to twist violently.

Gradually, the wind, the drum, the bell—all the sounds around him were replaced by others.

The murmur of conversation. The clicking of a Rubik’s Cube. The scuff of leather shoes. The chime of a phone notification.

When he came back to himself, he found he was wearing a blue-and-white hospital gown. Someone was supporting him as he strolled through the psychiatric hospital courtyard.

“It’s all fake! All an illusion!”

Li Huowang jerked his head up and looked around. In an instant, he saw Old Man Liu, supported by his daughter, walking toward the hospital exit. The distance between them was exactly the same as the distance between himself and Li Zhi a moment ago.

“Huowang? What’s wrong?”

A cold, savage grin twisted Li Huowang’s face. So it was trying to mess with him using illusions again. That was a mistake. He might not be good at many things, but illusions? They didn’t work on him.

He shook off the hand supporting him, planted his right foot on the garden step, and charged at Old Man Liu in the distance.

The voices from far away gradually became clear. “Doctor, thank you so much. If it weren’t for you, my father wouldn’t have recovered so quickly.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s what we doctors are here for. Master Liu, remember to take your medicine on time when you get home.”

“Alright, alright.”

“Li Zhi!” Li Huowang’s shout made everyone turn around, including Old Man Liu, who had changed out of his hospital clothes for the discharge.

Thump. Li Huowang’s fist landed squarely on Old Man Liu’s jaw. A set of dentures, mixed with blood, spun through the air.

The next second, the illusion shattered.

Li Huowang saw Li Zhi in front of him, head snapped back from the blow, blood streaming from his nose.

The surrounding spirit immortals tried to intervene, but the six Wandering Lords held them back.

“I told you to stop drumming!”

Shing. The longsword was drawn. He thrust it with all his strength.

The razor-sharp tip sliced through Li Zhi’s fingers and pierced the skin he had been holding up, driving deep into the center of his abdomen.

That one stroke stopped both the drum and the bell. The spirit immortals and the Wandering Lords slowly faded. Everything fell silent.

Li Zhi stared in shock at his bleeding stomach. He staggered back two steps, then crumpled to the ground.

Panting heavily, Li Huowang glanced at the dying Li Zhi, then turned his head. In the distance, the Second Spirit had also collapsed, no longer struggling.

“Heh, Li Zhenren… my apologies…”

(End of Chapter)