An Unexpected Find

Li Huowang shoved a piece of scorched bun into his mouth with his single hand, chewing slowly.

His eyes, void of focus, stared into the campfire before him as his mind calculated the places they might have missed. They were on the road back to Siqi. Beside them trundled three second-hand wagons, bought with the money from selling the camels plus some extra silver. The road ahead was long; they couldn’t keep going without wagons.

A pair of chopsticks bearing a steaming-hot bundle of noodles with a few slices of cured meat was held to his lips, waiting for him to open his mouth.

Li Huowang furrowed his brow slightly and moved his head aside. “I can eat by myself. No need to feed me.”

“Brother Li, you only have one hand now, how can you eat? Let me feed you until your hand grows back. By the way, when will it grow back?”

Hearing the worry in Bai Lingmiao’s voice, Li Huowang lifted his right arm and looked at the empty sleeve. A bitter smile flickered in his eyes as he murmured, “Soon. It’ll grow back soon.”

“But it’s been three days. There’s not even a sign of it starting.” Bai Lingmiao reached out and rolled up his sleeve, staring at the already-healed stump.

“It’s been three days?” Li Huowang’s pupils contracted. Something seemed to occur to him. He stood abruptly, scanning the barren Gobi around him as if searching for something.

Soon he found his target and walked toward a large boulder in the distance.

“Brother Li, where are you going? The noodles will get sticky if you don’t eat them now!”

“Going to take a piss. Don’t follow!”

He reached the boulder, which was as large as a small hill. Glancing back at the distant wagons that had shrunk to black specks, he stepped into the shadow of the stone.

Behind the rock there was nothing but barren ground—exactly what he wanted.

Li Huowang sat cross-legged facing the boulder, his expression flickering with hesitation. But in the end, he drew his sword and carved a simple human figure into the rock face.

“Mom, you’ve had a hard time lately,” he said softly to the crude drawing.

“Mom, I’m clear-headed now. Could you bring me my phone? It’s her birthday today. I want to call her.”

“Don’t unbind it. Just dial for me. Her number’s on the second line of my contacts.”

He pulled out a small, sharp trowel and began to lightly scrape the face of his carving. After a while, a crude but vaguely familiar face formed on the stone.

Li Huowang couldn’t draw. It looked terrible. But to him, the mural on the rock was more beautiful than anything. “Happy birthday, Nana.”

“Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~”

Alone, Li Huowang smiled at the mural he had carved, singing the song softly and gently.

The sound didn’t travel far before it was shredded by the merciless wind of the Gobi.

“Sorry, Nana. I can’t be with you on your birthday this year. I have to celebrate it like this. I’ll make up for your gift when I get the chance.” He reached out his hand and gently stroked the face of the carving.

After he finished speaking, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the mural. Then, pushing off the ground with one hand, he stood up.

But as he turned, Li Huowang found himself face-to-face with a red bridal veil. It was Bai Lingmiao’s Second Spirit. She had witnessed the entire scene—a scene at once tender and deeply unsettling.

“Shut up,” Li Huowang said, tossing the two words at her before turning and walking back to the wagons.

When he returned, the others had already eaten and were chatting idly.

Li Huowang took the bowl of noodles from Bai Lingmiao’s hands and set it directly on the ground. Using his single hand, he slurped the noodles noisily.

He was wolfing it down when a sharp metallic clink made his body tense up. He had heard that sound before.

He looked toward the source and saw Gouwa squatting on the ground, prying at something with his blade.

Li Huowang stood and walked over behind him. “What are you doing?”

Gouwa flinched, nearly dropping the knife. He looked up at Li Huowang with an ingratiating smile and lifted the object in his hand.

“Nothing, boss. Just figured since we’re so short on cash, I’d try to scrape up a little more for everyone.”

It was a rusted, blackened copper coin mask, showing signs of having been burned. Li Huowang recognized it. It was the mask worn by the dwarf who performed shadow-puppet plays. He remembered that Erbing had taken it and worn it too.

The fire-blackened coin mask was covered in fresh scratches. Gouwa had clearly been trying to pry the coins off for spending.

“I just figured it was a waste to leave it in that pile of ashes. That’s at least a hundred copper coins, no? Throwing it away would be a shame, so I picked it up.”

“I wasn’t gonna pocket it, I swear. I was gonna pry them off and give them to Sister Bai for safekeeping. But man, the chain holding these coins together is tough. Can’t get it off no matter how hard I pry.”

Li Huowang took the mask and ran his fingers across the coins. The black soot came off easily. The fire hadn’t damaged it at all. A thin, aged chain threaded through the square holes of each coin, binding them into a strange face-covering.

The coins looked ordinary enough—round outside, square inside—with four characters written around the hole that Li Huowang didn’t recognize.

“Dao… Dao… Guang Tong… Tong… Bao!” Gao Zhijian translated for him.

“Daoguang Tongbao?” Li Huowang had no idea what dynasty these coins belonged to, nor did he care. All he was thinking about was what this thing meant.

After a long moment of thought, he called Mantou over and placed the mask over the dog’s head to see if it had any hidden danger.

Then something astonishing happened. Even though Mantou was right in front of him, shaking his head and pawing at his face, Li Huowang had the strange feeling that the dog wasn’t there.

That night, the dwarf had worn this mask and snuck up on him without a sound. If the Second Spirit hadn’t warned him, he might have fallen for it.

Later, when Erbing had worn this thing and slipped into the crowd, he hadn’t been able to spot her immediately.

From those two points, he could tell: this thing seemed to be some kind of tool that could conceal one’s presence or aura.

“This thing might be useful to me.”

Li Huowang stared at it, his eyes gradually lighting up. “No, it’s not just useful. This thing is incredibly useful to me!”

He didn’t know why, but in this world, anyone with a little ability could easily tell he was a Heart-Element.

Maybe this thing could stop that from happening. After this, he wouldn’t have to be a piece of Tang Monk’s flesh anymore.