The Rusty Knife and the Forgotten Hand

The blade was about to strike the Second Spirit when Li Huowang’s bronze coin sword elongated in an instant, the coins linking into a line like a long whip that sent Hong Da’s rusty knife spinning away.

“Wait!” Li Huowang’s face was grave as he rushed forward, planting himself between the two sides. “Everyone! She’s not a Heart-Turbid! She’s my wife!”

The Chief Recorder lowered his朽木如意 (rotten-wood ruyi), a note of doubt in his voice. “Your wife? I find that hard to believe. Have your lady lift that red veil, lest a Heart-Turbid be trying to slip through.”

Before Li Huowang could agree, Shen Tugang gave a light tap to the leather drum at his waist. The Second Spirit replied with a matching beat, the drums echoing back and forth as if in negotiation.

When the drumming ceased, the Second Spirit raised one hand and tore the red veil away.

“By the gods! What is that? Brother Er, is this truly your wife?” The others recoiled visibly at the sight of the Second Spirit’s face—a ghastly fusion of human features and a beast’s visage.

Li Huowang ignored them, pulling the Second Spirit aside a few paces. His expression was severe. “What are you doing here? Where’s Miaomiao? Did she come with you?”

The Second Spirit shook her head first, then trembled forward, wrapping her arms around Li Huowang’s waist and clutching him tight. In her feline eyes, three times larger than a normal person’s, a possessive love gleamed. “Husband… I missed you…”

Her sharp teeth nibbled gently at his neck. Two tongues coiled out from within, licking and lapping across his skin.

“Enough!” Li Huowang set her upright, his face hard, staring her down. “I don’t have time for this now. It’s dangerous here. Leave. Now.”

“Husband… are you worried about me?” The Second Spirit’s maw split open to the back of her ears.

Li Huowang stepped closer, cupped her head, and fixed his gaze on the largest of her many eyes. He spoke slowly, one word at a time. “Leave. Now.”

“Alright.” A long tongue swept across his face. Wearing a strange smile, the Second Spirit turned and walked out of the village.

“Mom?” Li Huowang’s face darkened further at the voice in his ear. “Shut up. She’s not your mother.”

“Brother Er, is she really your wife?” Tuoba Danqing was so stunned he had stopped rolling his walnut-handled baoding balls.

Before Li Huowang could answer, the spirit-dancer named Shen Tugang spoke, his tone far from friendly. “What? You got a fucking problem with that?”

Shen Tugang jerked his chin at Li Huowang. “Good woman. Don’t let her down.”

“Enough, enough! Let’s move! Are you here for work or a spring outing?” The Chief Recorder’s face was anxious as he began to hurry them along.

Li Huowang glanced once in the direction the Second Spirit had disappeared, then collected himself and followed the Chief Recorder and the others into the village.

I don’t know if she’ll listen to me. Best finish this quickly and get out, before Miaomiao gets dragged into this.

The Chief Recorder’s gold abacus clacked again, joining the sound of Tuoba Danqing’s walnuts rolling—a hollow rhythm echoing through the village.

Li Huowang set aside his distractions, staying vigilant for any sign of a Heart-Turbid.

As they walked, a collapsed earthen courtyard appeared to their left. Beneath a pomegranate tree heavy with fruit stood several human-shaped figures.

Looking closer, Li Huowang saw they weren’t people, but tangled vines and weeds shaped into human forms. The ground around them was swept clean.

Just as he was wondering if the Heart-Turbid had created them, Hong Da’s twin rusty knives flew through the air, shredding the plant-mannequins into flying debris.

Aaaahhhh— A piercing shriek rang out from deep within the village.

“Go! Follow it!” Shen Tugang, who had done nothing until now, began to move, striding toward the sound.

As he ran, he slapped the drum at his waist and started a spirit-dance.

The Bang Bing Jue he chanted was completely different from Li Zhi’s or Bai Lingmiao’s—far more commanding, more aggressive.

“Above, the gods descend to the capital! Devour demons, swallow monsters, bring peace to all lands! Call upon the immortals, and the immortals answer! Call upon the gods, and the gods hear!”

Suddenly, Li Huowang felt the colors of the world around him begin to drain away.

An involuntary shiver ran up his spine. He knew something had arrived, but he couldn’t tell what.

This Shen Tugang was clearly no ordinary spirit-dancer. He might even be as strong as Danyangzi had been in life. Where did the Chief Recorder find a guy like this?

“Er Jiu! Take my blade!” Hong Da thrust a rusty knife toward Li Huowang. Li Huowang nodded and took it quickly.

The scream died, but the Chief Recorder and Shen Tugang had clearly locked onto the Heart-Turbid. One drummed, the other worked his abacus, their sounds filling the village, twisting the very air.

Though the Heart-Turbid still hadn’t shown itself, Li Huowang could tell they were already locked in battle.

In this kind of fight, all his lethal tricks were useless.

Rather than stand around uselessly, Li Huowang decided to try the only thing he could. He bit through his fingertip and began scribbling wildly on a sheet of turmeric paper.

He had no idea if this divination talisman would work under these circumstances, but it was better than doing nothing.

Committing to memory the cracks on the skull he carried, Li Huowang looked around, searching for a matching pattern.

Amid the chaos of sounds surrounding him, his gaze slowly drifted down to the rusty knife in his hand.

The tip of the blade pointed directly at a spiderweb stretched across a stone well in the distance.

The web had been torn—and the tear matched exactly the pattern of his divination.

Could Hong Da’s rusty knife actually improve my divination ability? Weapon in hand, Li Huowang slowed his pace and crept toward the well.

Carefully, he used the rusty knife to push aside the thorny vines and peered down into the darkness.

His pupils shrank to pinpoints.

There was a person standing in the mud at the bottom of the well.

The moment the figure sensed the light above and jerked its head up, Li Huowang snapped his gaze away, careful not to meet its eyes.

His heart pounding, he spun around and shouted, “Quick! There’s a—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

What was I about to say? What’s there?

Hearing his voice, the others turned to look. Tuoba Danqing spoke up, his tone puzzled. “Brother Er, what are you doing standing by the well holding that rusty knife?”

“Rusty knife?” Li Huowang’s eyes swept across Tuoba Danqing, the Chief Recorder, and Shen Tugang in turn.

“Yeah… where did this rusty knife come from? When did I pick it up?”