The Storehouse

1,207 words

Chapter 75: The Storehouse

“The two donkey carts and all our belongings sank to the bottom of that lake. I have to find the travel money from this water village myself.”

Li Huowang stared at the meat rolling and bubbling in the pot, calculating his next moves.

No matter what happened before, since it had happened, he needed to let it go and look forward.

The immediate priority was to find what he needed from this place, then leave with the others.

“And fast. We can’t afford to be delayed here. If there’s anything more terrifying than a village full of corpses, it’s a village full of rotting corpses. Even if the dead don’t move, they still have other ways to kill you.”

Li Huowang opened his mouth wide and tore a chunk of meat off the sword tip, then looked at the others who were wolfing down their food. “Full yet? Full means it’s time to work.”

The others, now wearing clothes dried by the fire, gnawed on the meat in their hands as they followed Li Huowang, sword in hand, out of the kitchen.

He didn’t wander aimlessly around the reed village like a headless fly. Instead, he went straight for the Yuan family ancestral hall. This broken place was too big and too chaotic; he needed a local guide.

“D-don’t kill me!”

The half-grown youth who had previously been so terrified he’d wet himself was now pinned against the wall again by Li Huowang’s sword, his gaunt face filled with terror.

Li Huowang couldn’t be bothered with pleasantries. He questioned the boy directly. “Where did your leaders hide the silver they stole?”

“The storehouse! Grandfather’s storehouse! All the stolen silver is in there!” The boy spilled everything he knew as quickly as beans tumbling from a basket.

The blood on the man standing before him hadn’t even dried yet. Just smelling the blood on Li Huowang, Yuan Dalang felt his pants getting damp again. He didn’t dare entertain any other thoughts.

The sky had long since darkened. The group followed the boy, holding up fluorescent stones, as they wound their way through the reed village.

Under the dark blue-green light, the blood-soaked surroundings felt like a ghost realm. The boy’s timid body began to shake uncontrollably.

Suddenly, he froze. He turned and threw himself onto the body of a woman lying by the path, wailing in grief.

Li Huowang walked over and crouched down to get a clear look at the woman’s remaining half-face.

She didn’t look old. Her slender, upturned eyes were filled with nothing but fear and despair.

“Who was she to you?” Li Huowang asked coldly.

“She was my wife!” the boy’s voice trembled as he answered. “I really cared for her! But she’s dead! My dad and mom are dead too!”

As if reminded of his sorrow, the boy began to cry even louder.

Hearing the piercing sobs, Li Huowang’s expression twisted. His hand rose and fell in a swift motion.

Rip! — “Aagh!” The boy, who had just been weeping uncontrollably, had one of his ears instantly sliced off.

“Lead the way! Did I tell you to stop?” Li Huowang’s roar carried a hint of brutality.

Feeling a gentle tug on his sleeve from behind, an irritated Li Huowang roughly shook it off.

“You feel sorry for him? You think he’s some kind of lovesick fool? Why don’t you ask him where this wife came from?”

Seeing everyone’s eyes turn on him, the boy said, aggrieved, “My dad took her. But everyone else’s wife in the village was taken too! Even my grandma and my mom were taken!”

Bai Lingmiao’s mouth fell open as she looked in disbelief at the women’s bodies scattered around.

When she saw the blood-stained sword being raised again, the boy shuddered violently and scrambled to his feet, quickly continuing to lead the way.

Seeing that Bai Lingmiao seemed a little scared, Xiaoman walked over to her, placed her dark-haired hand on the girl’s shoulder, and pulled her close in comfort. “That’s how women are in a bandit’s nest. Don’t overthink it.”

“But why did they go raiding with them? They were taken here too!”

Bai Lingmiao found it hard to believe. She still remembered that there were women among the raiders from before.

“Well, you know, people and dogs are all the same. They can be trained.”

Hearing these words, Li Huowang turned to look at the other human ingredients behind him, but couldn’t tell who had said them.

“Sigh…”

Following the boy through many twists and turns, they finally stopped in front of a room locked with a tiger-head padlock.

Seeing that the walls were now wood instead of reeds, this place was probably considered important within the stronghold.

Clang! Sparks flew as the tiger-head lock was cleaved in two.

Li Huowang kicked the door open and pushed the boy in front of him as they entered.

It was clearly a storehouse. Wooden shelves were neatly arranged, each one stacked with large wooden chests.

When the boy opened one chest, the room suddenly grew brighter. The chest was filled to the brim with bits of broken silver.

One chest was opened after another. With each one, the others couldn’t help but gasp in surprise.

Besides the silver, there were many gold and silver trinkets, likely looted from women.

There were also plenty of valuable goods, like silk, ingots of iron, and books. The entire room held the spoils of years of raiding by these river bandits.

“My god, I’ve never seen so much money in my whole life! You could buy a whole bunch of wives with this!” Dogwa’s voice trembled, his eyes filled with naked greed.

But Li Huowang’s attention was not on the gold and silver. It was on the few books.

He flipped through them casually and found they were just basic primers for children and a few Buddhist sutras.

“That old man before used a method with virgin boys and girls to summon things from the water. It doesn’t seem like he learned it from these books… Was that disgusting method passed down by word of mouth too?”

As Li Huowang continued searching, his eyes fell on a book at the very bottom. He froze for a moment.

He held the book in both hands, staring intently at the characters on the cover, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

“What characters are these?”

“Brother Li, should we start carrying the chests out now? It doesn’t seem like we can take it all.” Bai Lingmiao walked over and asked.

Li Huowang held the sutra out for the white-haired girl to see.

“Look at the characters on this book. Do you recognize what they are?”

A flicker of confusion passed through Bai Lingmiao’s eyes. “Brother Li, I can’t read.”

The moment she said this, a stuttering voice came from behind her.

“Hua~~~Hua~~~The Huayan Sutra!”

Li Huowang looked up and saw the Fool standing there, looking dazed. “Are you sure that’s what it says?”

“Mm!”

Having gotten a definitive answer, Li Huowang slowly traced the character ‘Yan’ with his finger, a deep sense of confusion settling in his eyes.

“Is this the character for ‘Yan’? Why can’t I even recognize ‘Yan’ anymore?”

Share to

Reading Guide Decoding

Treasure and Rot: A Quiet Horror in the River Village

Cultural / Xianxia Notes

The Huayan Sutra (《华严经》): The Avatamsaka Sutra, or Flower Garland Sutra, is one of the most important and voluminous texts in Mahayana Buddhism. It describes a universe of infinite realms, all perfectly interpenetrating and illuminated by the wisdom of the Buddha Vairocana. It is a text of profound beauty and cosmic scale. Its appearance here, in a bandit’s loot pile, and Li Huowang’s failure to read it, creates a heartbreaking contrast. This is a book of ultimate order and enlightenment sitting in a den of chaos and depravity, as inaccessible to the protagonist as his own identity.
Bandit Society & “Trained” Women: The chapter touches on a dark reality of pre-modern banditry in many cultures, not just China. Women captured in raids were often absorbed into the community, and over time, could become complicit in the system that oppressed them. The line “people and dogs are all the same. They can be trained” is a cynical, folk-horror perspective on Stockholm syndrome and generational trauma. It strips away any romanticism, showing the bandit society as a machine that breaks and molds people.
Illiteracy as a Thematic Tool: Bai Lingmiao’s illiteracy is historically accurate. For much of Chinese history, literacy was a privilege of the wealthy and the scholarly class, particularly for women. Her admission isn’t a sign of stupidity, but a marker of her low social station. This makes Li Huowang’s failing grasp of his own literacy all the more terrifying—he is losing a skill that inherently separates him from the “lowly” world he is trapped in.

folk-horror

A subgenre of horror that uses folklore, superstition, and rural traditions to evoke dread, often focusing on the dark side of community and tradition.

Chapter Overview

Welcome back, fellow travelers of the twisted path! Chapter 75, “The Storehouse,” is a masterclass in grim pragmatism and creeping dread. After the aquatic horror show of the previous chapter, Li Huowang doesn't pause for breath—he immediately pivots from survival to acquisition. This is our boy at his most brutally efficient, leading his battered crew into the bandit stronghold’s treasury. But don't let the promise of loot fool you; this chapter swaps visceral combat for a different kind of horror: the deep, unsettling erosion of the self. We get more of Li Huowang’s cold-blooded leadership, a disturbing glimpse into the cycle of violence within a bandit nest, and a quiet, devastating moment of cognitive failure that hits harder than any monster. Get ready for a chapter that is less about fighting and more about becoming.

Key Plot Points

Pragmatic Leadership: Without hesitation, Li Huowang focuses on recouping their losses, proving his ability to compartmentalize trauma and prioritize survival. He’s no longer a victim; he’s a very dangerous manager.
Forced Guidance: He corners the terrified youth, Yuan Dalang, and uses raw intimidation (and a bit of mutilation) to secure a guide through the village to the Yuan family’s storehouse.
A Grizzly Truth: When the boy breaks down over the body of his “wife,” Bai Lingmiao is moved to pity. Li Huowang brutally exposes the lie of the boy’s grief: the woman was a kidnapped victim, just like the boy’s own mother and grandmother. This dark conversation lays bare the social rot of the bandit world.
The Fool Speaks: Amidst the piles of silver and silk, Li Huowang discovers a Buddhist sutra he cannot read. He asks Bai Lingmiao, who admits her illiteracy. It is the Fool, in a rare moment of lucidity, who stutters out the book’s name: “The Huayan Sutra.”
The Final Horror: This moment of clarity for the Fool triggers a terrifying collapse for Li Huowang. Even after being told the name, he traces the character for “Yan” (严) and finds he can no longer recognize it. The rot isn’t just in the world; it’s in his own mind.

Reading Guide

This chapter is a quiet gut-punch. Don't let the calm after the storm fool you—this is where the rot sets in. Watch Li Huowang’s leadership: it’s effective, but it’s also becoming monstrous. The casual cruelty of cutting off the boy’s ear isn’t just for intimidation; it’s a sign of what he is becoming. Compare this to his earlier, more hesitant self. The treasure room itself is a carnival of horror: silver bought with blood, and books of enlightenment sitting as loot. The key moment isn’t the gold; it’s the sutra. Pay close attention to the Fool’s brief, lucid moment, and the profound dread that follows. Li Huowang isn’t just forgetting a character—he’s losing his connection to the very language of his own world. Where does that leave him? The chapter’s horror is not external; it’s the slow, quiet realization that you cannot trust your own mind. This is the true cost of the Dao-Twisted World.