The Kind Man

Chapter 66: The Kind Man

Hearing movement behind him, Li Huowang pressed his hand against his own burning shoulder and turned back to look at Li Zhi, who lay crumpled on the ground. Was he… apologizing to me?

“You’re dying and you’re still putting on an act,” Li Huowang said. “You’re all smiles now, but who was it trying to kill me just a moment ago?”

Li Zhi’s face was growing pale, the blood draining from it as he offered a bitter smile.

“I couldn’t help it. I really couldn’t. They forced me. You can run, but I can’t. I haven’t been able to escape since the day I became a chuma medium.”

Dark red blood was seeping out from under Li Zhi’s body, staining the dirt beneath him red. He didn’t have much time left.

Li Huowang stood there, a complicated expression on his face as he watched Li Zhi. He had no way of knowing which of the man’s words were true.

“Actually… this isn’t so bad,” Li Zhi said with a sigh. “There’s nothing else making noise in my head for once.”

“Was it the immortals who forced you to do all of that?” Li Huowang asked again.

“Heh… believe it or not, it’s the truth. From the day I became a chuma, I was just a puppet in their hands. I resisted before, but it was useless. Men can’t fight immortals.”

Li Huowang couldn’t be bothered to sort truth from lies. He walked straight over, grabbed the sword’s hilt, and prepared to pull it out.

When he yanked, it didn’t budge. He realized Li Zhi—his fingers already severed—was gripping the blade with his ruined hands.

Blood trickled from the corner of Li Zhi’s mouth as he let out a weak chuckle. “Daoist Li. Uh… next time you run into someone like me, be more careful. A heart-element like you—you’re a prize in other people’s eyes. You can’t count on everyone having good intentions.”

Li Huowang’s heart seized. He hadn’t expected to get anything more out of Li Zhi. He hadn’t thought the man would volunteer information.

He softened his voice deliberately toward the dying man. “What exactly is a heart-element?”

“One who is of the heart-element—the Grand Beginning transforms into form; the form has substance but has not yet become a body. This is called the heart-element. The heart-element is the beginning of substance that has not yet become a body.”

“What?” Li Huowang clearly didn’t catch the meaning.

“That’s what the immortals told me. I’m an uneducated man—never had much schooling—so I couldn’t understand it. But I’ve never seen them that happy before. So I figured… it must be something good.”

Li Huowang raised his own hand and stared at it in shock.

Thinking back to Zhengde Temple and those scheming monks, this was more than enough proof that Li Zhi hadn’t lied.

“In this world, I’m a rare thing? But aside from being a mental patient, I’m no different from an ordinary person. What does heart-element actually mean?”

He committed Li Zhi’s words to memory. He had a vague sense that this was important.

His thoughts immediately turned to the dead master, Danyangzi.

He realized the signs had been there from the start. His so-called master hadn’t chosen his human ingredients at random.

And if everyone else’s cultivation methods were just as twisted as Danyangzi’s, then they might need a human ingredient like him too.

Li Zhi’s voice was fading. The light in his eyes was beginning to go out.

“Daoist Li… can you do me a small favor?”

Li Huowang turned back to look at the dying man. “Go ahead.”

“Next month, the twenty-second is Qingming Festival. When it comes… could you burn me some paper money? I’ve been poor my whole life. I don’t want to be a poor ghost after I die.”

As he finished, Li Zhi smiled again, his old habit. Blood oozed from the corner of his mouth.

“In my next life, I’ll take being reborn as an animal. Just don’t make me a spirit-dancer again. It’s too humiliating… and too tiring. I lived my whole life feeling lower than a brothel’s doorman.”

“Daoist Li, remember—whatever you end up doing, just don’t become a spirit-dancer. This work isn’t fit for a human being. It’s too bitter, too humiliating.” Two streaks of clear tears slid down his cheeks.

Li Huowang watched him, his expression twisting into something complicated.

The image of everything that had happened flashed through his mind. Perhaps he—Li Zhi—was a kind man. But what he did or didn’t do had never been up to him.

He was just a poor wretch controlled by those immortals.

This cruel world had shown Li Huowang something: the people who wield these unnatural powers aren’t always masters like Xin Hui or Danyangzi. Sometimes they’re just slaves to those powers.

“Thank you for the guidance. It means a lot. Brother Li Zhi.”

Li Zhi had only one breath left. He inhaled with the last of his strength and forced out the words: “And… that day you asked about exorcism. You needed help, right? Head south. Find a group of nuns in black robes. They’re… more or less… kind people. They should be willing to help you.”

Li Huowang hadn’t expected such a windfall. This had to do with Danyangzi clinging to him. He pressed quickly: “Nuns? What sect? Are they good at exorcising evil attachments?”

He kept asking, but no one answered.

Li Zhi’s eyes had gone glassy.

He was dead.

Li Huowang looked into the dead man’s unclosed eyes and felt a mix of emotions he couldn’t untangle.

If Li Zhi hadn’t been a spirit-dancer, the two of them might have become good friends.

Just then, the others walked over from a distance. “Brother Li! As soon as the drumming stopped, that weird creature just froze. Oh—what happened to this guy?”

Gouwa and Xiaoman were a mess from their fight with the Second Spirit. Everyone was banged up, but at least the injuries were minor.

Li Huowang let out a long sigh. He reached out, grabbed the hilt of the sword still lodged in Li Zhi’s belly, and pulled it free. He sheathed it behind his back. “Find a place to bury the two of them. Keep the wolves and jackals off the bodies.”

“Why, Brother? He was a killer and a bandit!” Gouwa couldn’t understand.

Li Huowang didn’t explain. He reached down and gently closed Li Zhi’s eyes.

He didn’t mark the grave. No one would come to pay respects anyway. Leaving a marker would only invite trouble.

They worked for most of the morning. By the time they got back to the village, the roosters were already crowing.

Just as he reached the door, he caught sight of a thin silhouette by the well. Bai Lingmiao, who had been lying in bed too weak to move, was now bent over, hauling up a bucket of water.

“Brother Li! Where did you go? You’re hurt—what happened?” Bai Lingmiao asked, worry in her voice.

Li Huowang’s brow furrowed. He walked over and shoved the bucket out of her hands. “You were running a fever. What are you doing hauling water? Get back inside and lie down.”

“I’m fine. I’m better. Feel for yourself.”

He pressed his hand to her forehead and was surprised to find she had indeed cooled down. “The pill I made wasn’t that strong. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Bai Lingmiao’s expression flickered, then she smiled again. “I’m fine. What could be wrong? Isn’t it good to be over the sickness?”

“I don’t care if you’re fine. Go back inside and lie down. Don’t touch water when you’ve just recovered!”