Blind Chen’s Truth

Li Huowang heard the words coming from Blind Chen’s mouth in front of him, and the words he had been about to say got stuck in his throat.

“What does he mean? Does he suspect I’m from the Zuowandao? Did he never actually call for reinforcements?”

Li Huowang’s mind raced through a dozen possibilities in an instant. The big-headed doll who had invited him to join the Supervisory Heavenly Office suddenly seemed deeply suspicious in his recollection.

Without Li Huowang’s control, the Wandering Lords, floating in the air like jellyfish, hovered motionlessly.

“No!” Li Huowang’s expression twisted. He shook the bell violently, and the eight Wandering Lords surged forward through the air toward Blind Chen, accompanied by the ringing sound. “True or false—I need solid proof! I can’t let myself be led into another trap!”

Though Blind Chen was blind, he seemed able to sense the Wandering Lords’ positions. He dodged the first attack with a backward-arching bridge stance, then reached behind him into his bamboo basket in one swift motion. The mirror shaped like the Eight Trigrams appeared in his hand.

“Heaven clear and earth bright, yin turbid and yang pure!”

A gentle ray of light shot out from it, sweeping through the air like a sword blade. The Wandering Lords struck by the beam dissolved into smoke and scattered.

He swept the mirror sideways again, and two more Wandering Lords were cut cleanly in half.

Just as he was turning the mirror toward the remaining Wandering Lords, he suddenly felt murderous intent blooming above his head.

In that split second, Li Huowang—sheathed in towering killing intent—had already closed in. The sword in his hand was less than half a zhang from Blind Chen’s neck.

But the next moment, Blind Chen’s head, like a turtle’s, retracted straight down into his shoulders and disappeared.

Just as Li Huowang’s momentum ebbed and his new force had yet to gather, a large hand extended out from the hole where the old man’s head should have been, catching Li Huowang’s sword-wielding wrist in a firm grip.

Li Huowang jerked his arm back, but instead of breaking free, he only let Blind Chen ride the momentum and stick to him like glue.

Taking advantage of Li Huowang’s pulling force, Blind Chen thrust the bamboo pole in his hand straight at Li Huowang’s chest.

But the move didn’t land. The remaining Wandering Lords rushed back to break the stalemate for Li Huowang.

For a time, the two sides traded blows, the situation locked in a fierce deadlock.

It wouldn’t stay deadlocked forever, though. Li Huowang had prepared a backup plan.

“Senior Brother Li! We’re here to help!” Bai Lingmiao, Gao Zhijian, and the others, who had been waiting in the distance, drew their weapons and charged at Blind Chen.

Li Huowang alone had struggled to match him, but with four more people added, Blind Chen was no match at all. The outcome was sealed.

Pfft. A long needle wrapped in white fuzz pierced Blind Chen’s right hand, which was gripping the pole. Instantly, his five fingers melted like wax candles, sliding down to his elbow.

He couldn’t hold his weapon anymore. Panic seized him. And then a shadow fell over his heart—a gust of wind thick with the smell of blood whipped his hair wildly.

“This is bad!” his heart lurched.

“Zhi Jian! Don’t kill him!”

The moment Li Huowang’s voice rang out, Blind Chen felt the gust of wind veer off course and smash into his arm.

With the sound of bone cracking, Gao Zhijian’s wolf-tooth club slammed into Blind Chen’s arm, crushing it flat.

Chun Xiaoman rushed in, kicked the bamboo pole out of Blind Chen’s hand, smoothly caught the chain Gao Zhijian tossed her, and swiftly bound Blind Chen up.

“See that? See that? Heh heh! This blind man just got taken down by Big Boss Cao!”

Li Huowang ignored Gouwa’s smug showboating and walked straight up to Blind Chen. “Are you a cop or a con? We can have a proper talk now.”

“Keh—ptoo!” A mouthful of bloody spittle flew toward Li Huowang’s face. He dodged it easily.

Gao Zhijian’s fist, the size of a sandbag, slammed into Blind Chen’s face. His nose went crooked, and several teeth flew out.

“Don’t be so rough.” Li Huowang stopped Gao Zhijian from landing another blow and asked Blind Chen again, “I’ll ask you one more time. Who are you?”

“I’m your granddaddy!” Blind Chen’s face was red and swollen with fury.

Li Huowang looked down at him, then reached into the torture implement pouch at his waist and pulled out a thin, translucent willow-leaf knife.

“If you won’t tell me, that’s fine. I’ll find out myself. Someone hold his head—don’t let him retract it.”

Blind Chen’s scream was lost in the air as the willow-leaf knife slanted into the skin of his jaw.

Li Huowang carefully sliced off one layer, then began on the next. He worked with the focused precision of a craftsman.

Time passed slowly. But Li Huowang’s expression grew heavier and heavier. He had nearly peeled the entire face off the other man—and yet he had only found this one face!

“You’re really not from the Zuowandao?” Li Huowang said, looking at Blind Chen, who was now breathing more out than in.

He had thought the old man was trying to sow discord. But with the hard evidence right in front of him, Li Huowang was forced to accept a fact: it seemed he had truly been wrong.

“I… I’ll go fuck your grandmother.”

Watching Blind Chen curse him in his weakened state, Li Huowang’s heart tightened. He quickly turned to the woman with the red veil, who looked like a twin of another, and said, “Miao Miao! Hurry! Ask the White Immortal to heal him!”

After a flurry of frantic work, Li Huowang finally watched as the face he had peeled off was sewn back on.

“I’m really sorry, senior. Under those circumstances, I couldn’t tell. Zhi Jian, untie him right now.”

If the old man was telling the truth, then that meant the big-headed doll was the problem. The Zuowandao was him. This might have all been a trap they had set.

The severely wounded Blind Chen had barely regained his freedom before he scrambled away from Li Huowang and the others like a startled monkey.

Weak and pale, he leaned uncertainly against the wall, staring in the direction of their footsteps. “You Zuowandao scum—what kind of game are you playing now? You think I’ll buy it? Don’t waste your breath!”

With that, he struggled to stand. But with his injuries, it was almost impossible.

“Senior Chen, please, let me explain.” Li Huowang blocked his path.

“What’s there to explain now? Are you going to tell me this was all a ‘misunderstanding’? You want me to trust you? Fine! Then get the hell out of here! The farther you go, the more I’ll believe you!”

Both men stopped talking at the same moment. They turned in unison toward the village temple in the distance.

In the round archway there, someone stood at a slant.

It was the Mud Bodhisattva. Half his body was hidden in the darkness, the other half exposed to the moonlight. He stood there without moving, using the black holes of his eye sockets to stare fixedly at Li Huowang and the others.

“There! See that?!” Blind Chen’s voice cracked. “You beat me this badly, and those mud-goblins noticed! They’re planning to take me out while I’m weak and finish the job! Now we all die together!”

As his words fell, from behind the Mud Bodhisattva, the Eighteen Arhats of the temple slowly emerged.

With every step they took, the mud on their bodies cracked and peeled away. Inside the fissures, rows of compound eyes gleamed faintly, half-hidden.