Chapter 208
Chapter 208
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 208
>Chapter Title: Someone's Watching
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Chapter 208: Someone's Watching
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> “What’s wrong, Real Person?” Seeing how tense Li Huowang was, he took a few steps back.
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> Those black pottery jars in the distance looked completely normal, just ordinary jars for pickling salted vegetables. The only distinctive feature was an upside-down fu character pasted on top of them.
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> Li Huowang showed no sign of relaxing his vigilance as he stared at those jars. “Something just glanced at me from there!”
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> “Glanced at you?” Jin Shanzhao hesitated, eyeing the jars in the distance once more.
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> “Could there be someone inside? But Real Person, those jars are way too small to fit a person.”
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> “I didn’t say it was a person watching me!” Li Huowang decisively spread the [Great Thousand Record] out on the ground. The bloody nail cap shot over rapidly, slicing through those black pottery jars with ease.
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> With a continuous “crash,” the black pottery jars shattered one after another, spilling brownish brine mixed with pickled vegetables all over the ground.
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> Li Huowang’s heart remained on high alert. He cautiously approached and used his sword to flip over the broken pieces, inspecting each one carefully.
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> After a thorough check, Li Huowang found nothing unusual. These jars really were just for pickling vegetables, nothing more.
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> The noise drew someone from inside the house—a hunched old woman leaning on a cane shuffled over unsteadily. “You brat! Why’d you smash my veggie jars? Pay up!”
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> Li Huowang sheathed his sword, pulled out some broken silver from his robes, and tossed it at her feet. Remaining vigilant, he backed away step by step.
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> “Real Person, where are we going? Weren’t we buying grain?” Jin Shanzhao hurried to catch up.
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> “Let’s get out of this place first. We’ll buy it somewhere else!” After that incident, Li Huowang had completely lost all trust in this village.
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> At a critical time like this, Li Huowang would rather be wrong about his suspicions than risk being ambushed by something. He wasn’t about to take that loss again.
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> As Li Huowang and the others moved farther away, the old woman didn’t try to stop them. Instead, she leaned on her cane, bent over to pick up the scattered silver fragments from the ground, muttering toothlessly through her gums as if cursing something.
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> After leaving the village, Li Huowang led the group onward. They traveled straight through until deep into the night.
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> In a bamboo grove, they finally stopped. No matter what that gaze had been, this distance was far enough to escape any danger.
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> A campfire blazed to life, and the group set up a pot to cook. Though everyone was exhausted, they still had to eat, or their bodies wouldn’t hold up.
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> Li Huowang didn’t handle these chores. He stood atop the ox cart’s canopy, using his exceptional eyesight like a watchtower to scan the surroundings constantly.
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> Mantou seemed to understand Li Huowang’s mindset too. He pressed his nose to the ground, circling around and sniffing nonstop.
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> Yet even after dinner, nothing unusual happened. It was as if that gaze back in the village had been an illusion.
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> “Did I sense it wrong?” A sliver of doubt crept into Li Huowang’s mind toward his own perceptions. He’d never fully trusted his senses anyway.
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> But he quickly cast aside this pointless suspicion. What was done was done—no need for hesitation.
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> “Senior Brother Li, dinner’s ready. Come eat.”
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> Tonight’s meal was bamboo shoot noodles made with local ingredients. The fresh bamboo shoots were crisp and sweet. Though there was no meat, the thick layer of lard floating on the noodle broth greatly soothed Li Huowang’s shriveled stomach.
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> For a moment, everyone around the campfire ate with gusto—the sounds of slurping broth and the crisp snaps of bamboo shoots filled the air.
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> Bellies full, sleepiness set in quickly. The weary others crawled straight into their bedding and shut their eyes.
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> Li Huowang was on night watch tonight. At a time like this, he didn’t trust anyone else.
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> Soon, the only sound in the bamboo grove besides the campfire’s crackling was silence.
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> Li Huowang sat by the fire, gently stroking Mantou’s sleek fur with his hand.
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> But he wasn’t made of iron, after all. Drowsiness soon overtook him.
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> He shook his head vigorously, but when that didn’t dispel the sleepiness, Li Huowang pulled an awl from his belt and stabbed it straight into the palm of his right hand.
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> Blood stained his Daoist robes an even deeper red. The sharp pain made his whole body tense up, instantly clearing his mind of any drowsiness.
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> “Young Daoist, how about I take over? Us old folks don’t need much sleep anyway.”
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> Though he didn’t see anyone, from the footsteps and the familiar smell of pipe tobacco, Li Huowang knew who was behind him. “Master Lv, go sleep. We’ve got a long road tomorrow. You stood watch today—you won’t make it through tomorrow.”
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> Lv Zhuangyuan plopped down beside Li Huowang, his face full of wrinkles. He carefully pulled three strands of tobacco from his pouch, mixed them with some dry leaf scraps from the ground, stuffed them into his pipe, and lit it up.
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> “Daoist, what do you think of my youngest son?”
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> “Hm?” Li Huowang glanced at Lv Xiucai, who was leaning against his brother and sister-in-law as he slept.
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> He didn’t have a great impression of the boy. Timid, and always hesitating over everything he did.
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> “Young Daoist, I know it’s a bit of a pipe dream, but this old man’s still gotta swallow his pride and ask—could he take you as his master?”
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> “That boy’s not really a performer, never even performed. Don’t hold it against him. I’m not asking you to teach him all your divine arts—just one would be smoke rising from our Lv family’s ancestral grave.”
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> No sooner had Lv Zhuangyuan finished than he noticed the young Daoist suddenly stand up.
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> “It followed us! Everyone up!” Li Huowang’s shout jolted the others awake, rubbing their eyes.
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> “On guard!” Li Huowang called out as he gripped his sword and slowly advanced into the nearby bamboo grove. What should have been vibrant green bamboo looked eerily dark under the cover of night.
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> It wasn’t long before Li Huowang spotted two white porcelain urns between the bamboo stalks.
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> The urns weren’t large—about the size of watermelons. Each had a long red paper strip pasted on top, inscribed with brush-written characters.
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> Deceased Mother: Position of the Late Madam Yang Fengling
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> Grandfather: Position of the Late Ancestor Father Li Gong Quanyou
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> These were clearly cremation urns, evidenced by the traces of offerings in front of them.
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> Seeing the urns, Li Huowang hesitated. Should he really smash these cremation urns? Who knew what might leap out from inside.
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> After much deliberation, Li Huowang slowly retreated. The distant firelight gradually faded as the entire group set off on the road in the middle of the night.
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> Some time later, the lids of those two cremation urns slowly lifted. Two small children’s heads, faces smeared with white powder, emerged from within.
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> They clearly weren’t normal children—their heads were only the size of an average man’s fist.
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> The round blush on their cheeks stood out starkly against their snow-white faces.
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> The little figures exchanged a glance and giggled. Then their arms and legs, also coated in white powder, extended through the urns.
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> Just as they were about to move, a figure plummeting from the sky blocked their path.
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> Li Huowang gritted his teeth, his bloodshot eyes—from lack of sleep—glaring fixedly at the two bizarre things before him.
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> (End of chapter)