The Village

Chapter 179: The Village

Bai Lingmiao followed beside Li Huowang, trudging along in silence. Every now and then, she would pull out her handkerchief to wipe the sweat from both of their faces.

The hottest days of summer were drawing closer. The air was beginning to feel stifling, and even traveling in the morning, when the sun wasn't at its full strength, left them drenched in sweat.

After wiping his face again, Bai Lingmiao hesitated, then turned to Li Huowang with a suggestion. "Brother Li, the afternoons are too hot. How about we rest in the afternoon and set out earlier tomorrow morning?"

"Mm." Li Huowang pulled a map from the cart and studied it again.

They were still within the borders of Siqi. Fortunately, he hadn't thrown away the old map—it was still usable.

"We're skipping the noon meal to save time. There's a village up ahead—we'll sleep there tonight."

The mention of an actual bed lifted everyone's spirits. Their pace quickened.

After another hour of walking, when everyone's throat was parched, they finally spotted cultivated fields spreading out along the roadside.

Beyond the fields stretched a cluster of black-tiled houses. They had reached the village.

"Look at those growing along the edge of the fields—they're blooming so redly!"

Bai Lingmiao's eyes lit up as she moved to pick one, but Li Huowang grabbed her arm.

"Don't. That's wrong."

He stared warily at the large blooms—their petals curled outward, the edges slightly crimped.

"That's bǐ'àn."

He wasn't sure where he had heard it, but in Li Huowang's memory, this flower was somehow sinister.

His words brought an awkward silence. Everyone looked baffled, having no idea what he meant.

"Haha! You're even worse than me—you got it wrong!"

A cheerful child's voice rang out from the side.

They all turned to see a barefoot boy, no older than seven or eight, carrying a bamboo basket taller than himself on his back, laughing at them.

"That's not bǐ'àn. Let me tell you—it's called 'crab flower.' My mom said you can't feed it to pigs. If pigs eat it, their bellies will hurt and they'll lose weight."

The boy reached into the basket behind him and pulled out a sickle, casually hacking down a few of the strange blooms.

The dismissive way he handled them made it clear he saw these plants all the time. He was probably from this village.

Li Huowang thought for a moment, then walked over. "Kid, what were you doing out here?"

"Gathering pigweed! We have two pigs at home! They eat the pigweed I pick every single day. How many pigs do you have?"

When he learned that Li Huowang didn't own a single pig, the boy burst into laughter. "Haha! Your family's so poor, you're not even as rich as us!"

"Yeah, we're dirt poor. Do you live here? Can you take us to see your place?"

"Sure!" The boy, completely guileless, led Li Huowang and the others straight into the village.

"By the way, is there still a war going on?"

"A war? There's no war. Third Uncle, who got conscripted, already came back."

"Oh, that's good. No war is good news."

With a child this simple, Li Huowang quickly extracted everything he needed to know.

The village was called Qian Family Village. A few hundred people lived there—neither large nor small.

The villagers farmed in the summer and gathered wild goods from the nearby woods in the winter to get by.

In Siqi, there were many mountain villages like this. Nothing special.

Villages like this were usually wary of outsiders. But under the assault of silver coins, Li Huowang eventually secured lodging at the boy's home.

In a worn-out guest room, two heavy swords lay on the table. Li Huowang felt an immediate sense of relief.

He reached for the Thousand Greats Record at his waist, only to grab empty air.

It hit him then—his copy of the Thousand Greats Record had been used up during the earlier battle.

"Sigh." Truth be told, Li Huowang felt a pang of regret.

The Thousand Greats Record demanded a heavy price, but it required no practice or cultivation.

As long as you could pay the corresponding cost, you could gain the corresponding power.

Without it, he now had to rely on the sword the nun had given him to deal with trouble.

"Right, there's still this." Li Huowang pulled out the True Sutra of the Fire Vestments, wrapped in beeswax, and began studying it carefully.

Every gain came with a loss. This sutra was still unfamiliar; he needed more practice.

Once he mastered it, he would have another means of self-preservation.

Bai Lingmiao, carrying a plate of roasted sweet potatoes, entered the room. Seeing his focused back, she quietly tiptoed out again.

Standing at the doorway, she looked at the sweet potatoes in her hands, thought for a moment, then a faint, pleased smile crept onto her face as she headed toward her own room—the one she shared with Xiaoman.

"Sister Xiaoman, do you want some freshly roasted sweet potatoes?"

But the moment Bai Lingmiao stepped inside, she saw Chun Xiaoman bent over a spittoon, clutching her stomach and vomiting.

Alarmed, Bai Lingmiao set down the sweet potatoes and hurried over to pat her on the back.

She patted for a long time before Chun Xiaoman finally caught her breath. She sat down on the edge of the bed, still shaken, clutching her throat and panting heavily.

"Sister Xiaoman? Did you eat something bad? That can't be right—we all ate from the same pot. Why are you sick and no one else is?"

Xiaoman shook her head. "It's nothing. I probably kicked off the blanket while sleeping last night and caught a summer chill."

"But I sleep with you. You don't have a habit of kicking off the blanket."

Seeing the doubt in Bai Lingmiao's eyes, Chun Xiaoman quickly added, "Sister, please go to the kitchen and boil me some ginger soup. I'm begging you. I really feel terrible."

"Then... all right."

Seeing Bai Lingmiao leave, glancing back every few steps, Chun Xiaoman finally let out a breath of relief.

Then she lifted the blanket on the bed, revealing a dark red bamboo slip beneath it.

The Thousand Greats Record. Chun Xiaoman had found it in that cave and secretly hidden it away.

Having seen Brother Li use it many times, she understood exactly what it was.

But she had clearly overestimated her own tolerance. The moment she recalled the bloody, horrific rituals recorded within it— "Ugh! "

At that moment, she finally understood what Brother Li had been paying. How much he had been paying.

Yet after retching, Chun Xiaoman gritted her teeth and forced herself to keep reading.

Compared to these torments, Chun Xiaoman cared more about being indebted to others.

She couldn't stand it. Every time something went wrong, Brother Li was the one who stepped up. It made her feel utterly useless.

Ever since she had killed her own father, Chun Xiaoman had made up her mind—she would not be a burden.

"If Brother Li can endure it, then I can endure it too!" Chun Xiaoman grabbed the Thousand Greats Record with both hands and, grinding her teeth, forced herself to keep reading.

Meanwhile, Bai Lingmiao was in the kitchen boiling ginger tea, staring at the firewood in the stove with a face full of worry.

"Vomiting like that... and she's been acting strange lately. Could she really be... pregnant?"

"It can't be Brother Li. I sleep with him every night."

"Then whose could it be? Gouwa's? Gao Zhijian's? Or Sun Baolu's? But when did Sister Xiaoman ever..."

Bai Lingmiao pressed her legs together, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

But once the shyness passed, she grew deeply worried for her sister's situation.

If she really was pregnant during a journey this long... it would be very hard to keep traveling.

Just as she was fretting, she suddenly felt someone standing behind her.

Catching the faint scent of a body fragrance identical to her own, Bai Lingmiao furrowed her brow. "What is it?"

Behind her, the Second Spirit's red bridal veil swayed faintly. "Bring the drum. There's work to do in the village."

PS: When I was little, my grandma really did tell me that crab flowers couldn't be fed to pigs.