Trouble

“Mm. Places that are too lively are annoying. So I wanted to find a remote spot to settle down.”

“No matter. What’s the relationship between us? Rest assured. Since you’ve taken this land, once I go back and speak of it, this place—this village—is yours. No one can argue otherwise.”

“It’s only right, anyway. Wasn’t it you who burned that whole nest of White Lotus believers to death back then? Since you killed them, their land belonging to you is only proper.”

Although Liu Zongyuan’s words seemed intended to do Li Huowang a favor, they grated on his ears regardless.

Liu Zongyuan cautiously glanced at the doorway, then leaned slightly toward Li Huowang, deliberately lowering his voice to a murmur. “Hey, have you heard about what happened in the capital? The mood within the Office right now is… unsettled.”

“Mm, I heard. The Zuowandao apparently played us for fools.”

“More than that. Word is they fought within the palace for three days and three nights! Our emperor was severely wounded by the Zuowandao—near death. Building his tomb probably won’t be finished in time. But the Zuowandao didn’t get off easy either. More than half of them are dead. Even one of the Dice was killed!”

“Oh? Is the source reliable?”

“What kind of question is that? You lookin’ down on me? Have you forgotten I’m from the Lunar Gate sect? Who in the Jiangnan Circuit has better information than me?”

Li Huowang’s brow furrowed slightly. It seemed that after he left the capital, the two factions hadn’t let the matter rest—instead, they’d fought each other to the death.

Seeing Li Huowang’s expression shift, Liu Zongyuan quickly offered reassurance. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing serious. Just an emperor dying—the crown prince is already waiting. The moment he dies, the succession will happen immediately. For us, it’s business as usual.”

“Brother Liu misunderstands. I’m not concerned about those big shots. Whether they live or die is irrelevant to us. I just think… the world is becoming chaotic.” Li Huowang raised his teacup and took another sip.

“Yeah. Chaotic. All stirred up by people making trouble. What the hell are those bigwigs thinking? Can’t they just live peacefully? The higher-ups flap their mouths, and the lower ranks run their legs off. If I weren’t greedy for what the Supervisory Heavenly Office offers, I would’ve quit this damn job long ago.”

“Er Jiu, you’ve got the right idea,” Liu Zongyuan continued. “Just hole up in some remote village like this. Don’t take any assignments, don’t even bother to report in. The new Chief Recorder probably doesn’t even know you exist.”

Li Huowang’s mind raced. The thought crystallized quickly: this man from the Supervisory Heavenly Office needed to be cultivated. Having a friend inside the Office could only benefit him. If nothing else, keeping this connection open would serve as insurance for the future.

“Brother Liu, hearing from your lips that so many Zuowandao are dead or wounded… it’s truly satisfying. Don’t leave just yet. Let me be the host. We’ll drink until we can’t stand.”

“Fine by me! I was just getting hungry anyway. Wasn’t planning on being polite with you—I was waiting for you to say that.”

At Li Huowang’s instruction, Yang Xiaohai pulled out all the stops. He even brought out the jar of Zhuangyuan Hong wine. By the end of the meal, Liu Zongyuan had eaten and drunk his fill.

At the table’s conclusion, the drunken Liu Zongyuan threw his arm around Li Huowang’s shoulder, acting every bit the sworn brother ready to kill a chicken, burn paper, and take a blood oath on the spot.

But Li Huowang noticed that the Ten Emotions and Eight Sufferings radiating from him did not match his outward behavior.

The Zuowandao always believed that everyone has several faces—some are brought out, some are simply never triggered.

As for Liu Zongyuan’s duplicity, Li Huowang didn’t really care. Wasn’t he the same himself?

After a heavy night of drinking, Liu Zongyuan rose early the next day. As Li Huowang deliberately escorted him out, he made one last attempt to dissuade him.

“Brother Er, just see me off this far. Go on back. Are you really not going to take any assignments? If you go too long without taking one, your rank on that waist token will drop.”

Li Huowang shook his head lightly. “Think about how many people have died lately. The world outside is too chaotic right now. It’s better to lie low and see how things play out. Brother Liu, I’d still advise you—don’t push yourself too hard. Your life is your own. Once you’re dead, nothing matters.”

Hearing this, Liu Zongyuan considered it very seriously, then solemnly clasped his hands in salute to Li Huowang. Reaching into his bosom, he pulled out several curved bamboo slips carved with phases of the moon—from crescent to full.

“Brother Er, take these. If you need to contact me, tie one to a carrier pigeon. It will definitely find me. The fuller the moon, the faster it flies.”

“Alright. I’ll be in this village for a while. If you want to find me, just come directly.”

Li Huowang watched as Liu Zongyuan vaulted into the forest and vanished from sight. Then he took out his own Supervisory Heavenly Office waist token and examined it again.

It seemed this layer of identity was useful after all. Otherwise, today’s matter might not have been resolved so easily.

“The Liang Emperor is dead again? That’s already the second one, isn’t it? They change them out pretty frequently.”

The image of the Liang Emperor—the one who had never shown his face—flashed through Li Huowang’s mind. He had seemed so noble and commanding back then. He hadn’t expected him to die so quickly.

But the thought faded just as fast. Li Huowang turned and walked toward the direction of Niuxin Village.

He didn’t really care whether anyone else in this world lived or died. All he wanted was to protect this small patch of his own, to live here peacefully and quietly in this mad world.

Li Huowang wasn’t even interested in the immortality that everyone else in this world so desperately craved. Even though, as a Heart-Element, there was technically no limit to how many lifespan pellets he could consume.

But if immortality meant endless pain and torment, then what difference was there between that and the eighteenth level of hell?

What if he was still alive, while everyone he cared about had already died? That scenario was more terrifying than death itself.

Just after Li Huowang had walked off, Bai Lingmiao and her Second Spirit poked their heads out from a building. She spoke with palpable relief. “Thank goodness Li Huowang was here. If he hadn’t been, dealing with that Supervisory Heavenly Office official wouldn’t have been this easy to brush off.”

“But it seems he has quite a bit of pull within the Office. Should I tell him about the immortals’ threat to us? Maybe we could find a solution through his connections there. What do you think?”

Hearing Bai Lingmiao’s words, the Second Spirit’s red bridal veil swayed left and right as she shook her head.

“What? You think it’s too much trouble for him? If we wait until things get really bad before telling him, that would be the real trouble! There are some things we shouldn’t hide.”

“But what about your eyes…”

The Second Spirit’s words made Bai Lingmiao freeze. She slowly raised her hand and looked at her own fair, jade-like palm through pupils that held a trace of pink within the white.

And in her vision right now, she could only see three of her fingers. Everything else was blocked by a vast expanse of white fluff.

Bai Lingmiao’s tone was very calm. “My parents asked others about it back then. For someone like me—a White-Haired Baleful Star—sooner or later, both eyes will go blind. And my lifespan is generally short.”

“My parents tried a lot of things at the time, but nothing worked. Maybe this is just my fate. What can I do if I was born unlucky?”