The Aftermath of Absence

Seeing Lian Zhibei’s injuries, Li Huowang spoke. “I’m sorry. Something went wrong with the plan. That’s on me. Don’t move. Let me treat your wounds first, then I’ll give you extra lifespan pills.”

With that, Li Huowang helped Lian Zhibei over to the meditation chair, then turned to fetch the True Sutra of the Fire Vestments.

“No, no, no. I can’t take any more.” Lian Zhibei pressed a talisman over the hilt of Li Huowang’s sword, and slowly pulled the long blade free from her own flesh.

“We had a deal. Since it’s your fault, just give me the jade token already. We’ll call it even.” Despite the agony twisting her features, she cared more about the yang-life than her own wounds.

When Li Huowang handed her the jade token that could be exchanged for untainted lifespan, her face lit up with joy even though she was still in pain.

She didn’t linger. After a quick glance at Bai Lingmiao, she stumbled out, clutching her wound.

Li Huowang looked up. Someone was standing in front of him. It was Bai Lingmiao, her expression filled with sorrow as she looked at him.

Then, without a word, she walked to his side, spread her arms, and gently embraced him.

Li Huowang raised his head and looked at the ground with trembling eyes. All that remained there was a pair of blood-red embroidered shoes and the bridal veil soaked in blood.

“Brother Li… the spirit that was attached to me… it’s gone, too. The Second Spirit… she’s gone… I was too late to say it…” Bai Lingmiao, holding him close, wept silently.

Late at night. Li Huowang lay on the bed, staring wide-eyed at the roof beam above.

He had achieved his goal. Those spirits could no longer control Bai Lingmiao. That hidden threat was gone. But this was supposed to be a good thing, so why did his chest feel so stifled?

“Brother Li… are you asleep?” Bai Lingmiao’s voice drifted faintly out of the darkness.

Li Huowang took a deep breath, then slowly let it out.

“Brother Li… I miss the Second Spirit a little… In the past, no matter what painful thing happened, she could always share part of it with me… She was like a sister to me…”

“Did I do something wrong? But if I hadn’t dealt with the spirits, what would have happened to Bai Lingmiao?”

Li Huowang kept turning it over in his mind. If he had known in advance that getting rid of the spirits would make the Second Spirit disappear, what would he have chosen?

But as dawn approached, a realization suddenly struck him. On great matters of right and wrong, there were clear answers.

For example, the Zuowandao seizing the Divine Eye of the Mountain Spirit and causing the Heavenly Calamity, plunging countless lives into misery—that was wrong. And the Supervisory Heavenly Office sending people to eliminate the Zuowandao for the sake of the world—that was right.

But in matters of emotion, it wasn’t so simple. Here, there were only suitable choices, not so many rights and wrongs.

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” The rooster crowed outside the window. Li Huowang hadn’t slept all night. Neither had Bai Lingmiao beside him.

He sat up, draped his Daoist robe over his shoulders, and walked toward the main hall. As he stepped out of the room, he saw Li Sui crouching in the center of the hall, staring at the courtyard where a fine drizzle was falling.

“Dad.”

Li Huowang walked over and sat down cross-legged beside her. Looking at the half-eaten, bloody wild dog in front of her, he asked softly, “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for Second Mother. I caught this last night. I ate half of it, and I was going to save the other half for her.”

Li Sui’s words stabbed through Li Huowang’s heart like a blade. He reached out and patted her. “Don’t wait anymore. She’s gone.”

“I know. Mother said she was gone, too. That’s why I’m waiting for her to come back. Second Mother loves eating this the most.” Li Sui nudged the bloody wild dog with her nose.

Li Huowang’s lips trembled slightly. He spoke again. “Didn’t you see her vanish? She’s gone!”

“I saw it. But Second Mother used to disappear and come back all the time. Don’t worry, Dad. She’ll show up again in a little while.”

Li Huowang said nothing more. He opened his arms and hugged Li Sui tightly for a moment, then stood up and walked back inside.

Gao Zhijian, his body steaming with rising heat, swung the huge halberd in his hands up and down as he moved—his bare torso a mass of iron-like, corded muscle, flushed red and brimming with strength.

With a sweep that could level a thousand troops, the blast of wind from the heavy weapon made the row of village militiamen clutching their wooden halberds squint and lean backward, nearly losing their footing.

When the massive halberd slammed heavily into the ground, Gao Zhijian steadied his breath for a moment, then said to them, “Drill!”

The dozen or so men looked at each other. One short, stocky fellow muttered to the man beside him, “How the hell are we supposed to drill? Is this even humanly possible?”

“Just drill, just drill. That guy takes things literally. Think of it as earning your white-flour buns at noon.”

They listlessly began swinging their heavy wooden halberds. The weapons had been cut from fresh wood, still full of moisture, and were impossibly heavy.

Before long, they couldn’t lift the halberds anymore. But Gao Zhijian didn’t care about that. Anyone who tried to slack off would face his calloused, oversized hand.

For the village militiamen, the morning dragged by like an eternity. Finally, noon arrived. Yang Xiaohai’s call for lunch sounded like heavenly music in their ears.

When they reached the mess hall, they grabbed the white-flour buns they had been dreaming of and stuffed them into their mouths with trembling hands.

They could barely hold their bowls steady, but that didn’t slow down their eating. Like pigs fighting over a trough, they gobbled it all down noisily.

At the same time, inside the Bai family compound, the other disciples were wrestling with the same problem.

“Elder Brother Zhao Wu, we need to buy grain. Elder Brother Gao Zhijian said we need at least a hundred militiamen. If they all eat like this, even the old grain won’t last.”

“I know. But now isn’t the time to buy grain. The prices are sky-high because of the Heavenly Calamity. When autumn harvest comes, we’ll buy then. It’ll be cheaper.”

Yang Xiaohai muttered under his breath, “But we have to last until autumn harvest first.”

“Maybe we should reduce the number of men? We’ve got so many people who can use spiritual powers now. Who’d dare mess with us?” Gouwa said, holding his bowl.

“No!” Gao Zhijian shook his head emphatically. “B-B-... Brother Li L-L-... Li said... said we need...”

“Alright, alright, you win. Don’t say another word. By the time you finish, it’ll be time for dinner.”

Gao Zhijian furrowed his brow and shot Gouwa a glare before burying his head in the food in his basin.

“Everyone, stop arguing. Let’s keep it like this for now. Brother Li left some gold. I’ll pawn some of it for silver first.”

Hearing Chun Xiaoman say this, the rest of them continued eating, and the matter was dropped.

But one person noticed the troubled look on Chun Xiaoman’s face. After the meal, as she was heading toward the Bai family ancestral hall, Gao Zhijian blocked her way.

“I-I-I... I have money. If-If-If... in the future, the v-v-village needs money... come f-f-find me!”

“You have money? Where did you get money?” Chun Xiaoman was stunned.

“I-I-I... in the past!”

“You were a rich landlord in the past?”

Gao Zhijian’s face turned bright red. He didn’t know how to explain, so he simply crouched down and began drawing on the ground with his finger.

(End of chapter)