“Why are you still following me?” Lu Zheng asked, astonished.
At this moment, Guangyue had three large bumps on the right side of his head, not yet subsided, a black eye with a purplish hue, a swollen right cheek, and a small cut at the corner of his mouth.
It looked… like he’d just been beaten up?
“Amitabha!” Guangyue said, brimming with enthusiasm. “I never expected my Taoist friend to excel in both Taoist and martial arts, with such remarkable talent. How can you waste such gifts on romantic entanglements?”
Lu Zheng: (´°Δ°`)
Guangyue continued, “I know you don’t understand me now, but this poor monk must urge you not to squander your talents. One day, you’ll see my intentions.”
“Thanks, but no thanks! I won’t!” Lu Zheng said helplessly. “Master, I’m quite disciplined. I won’t let romance dull my resolve.”
“But fox girls are enchanting. If you linger in the countryside, it’s only a matter of time,” Guangyue said sternly. “Only by travelling with me can you forge ahead, honing your cultivation.”
Lu Zheng’s eyes narrowed, his hand instinctively gripping the hilt of his blade.
…
Linhe Village, an ordinary small village, shared its name with countless others in the Jing Dynasty near rivers. This one, however, lay by the Lan River, alongside three other villages.
These four villages were cut off from land routes by mountains, their only way out being to sail down the Lan River into the main waterway to reach the outside world.
But the Lan River was narrow, its currents swift, with hidden undercurrents and treacherous shoals.
If that were all, the villagers, with their generations-honed water skills and knowledge of the river’s patterns, could still navigate it.
But this was a world of immortals and heroes, with demons!
Decades ago, a “River God” appeared in the Lan River. Since then, the four villages had to offer a boy and a girl each year as a sacrifice to ensure calm waters.
This year, it was Linhe Village’s turn. Two unlucky families, chosen by lot, offered their children. Tears streaming, they watched their adorned children, carried by the villagers, head toward the Lan River.
Amid gongs and drums, the noisy procession left the village for the nearby riverbank. At the same time, a barely perceptible black shadow flickered in the river.
Just then…
“Bang! Bang! Bang!” came the sound. Two figures emerged fighting from the mountain depths, one a golden light, the other a cyan shadow, clashing and parting.
Seeing the crowd, the cyan shadow let out an “Eh,” stopped fighting, and rushed over with swift steps.
The villagers peered and saw the cyan shadow was a young man in a cyan scholar’s robe, his face like polished jade, eyes like stars, handsome and refined.
The golden light followed, revealing a sturdy monk, now covered in bumps, his face bruised and swollen, looking quite pitiful.
“Greetings, esteemed immortals!”
The villagers bowed, those more experienced merely bending at the waist, while the timid knelt.
“No need for formalities. What’s this…?” Lu Zheng glanced at the boy and girl on a wooden mat, holding toys, oblivious, then at the tearful families trailing behind, already forming a guess.
“Immortal, we’re sacrificing to the River God to ensure fair winds and calm waters next year…” the lead elder said, bowing.
“Sacrificing to the River God…” Lu Zheng smacked his lips. “How do you sacrifice? Besides burning incense, what’s the offering? Steamed buns, fruits, vegetables, or livestock?”
“Well…”
The Jing Dynasty’s laws strictly forbade human sacrifices. The dynasty’s spirits sought incense and faith, not human blood.
“Amitabha!” Guangyue’s eyes gleamed. “Eating people? Posing as a River God? This is an evil cult!”
Truth be told, merely eating people might be overlooked if kept discreet, as the Jing Dynasty couldn’t always intervene, like with Wild Wolf Mountain.
But tampering with incense was a matter of principle. If the dynasty learned of it, they’d crush it to set an example.
“Not a demon, but a water ghost,” Guangyue declared firmly. “It must be slain!”
“Indeed, it must,” Lu Zheng nodded.
“Immortal, please wait!” the lead elder pleaded. “The River God must not be angered! Decades ago, an immortal came here, only to die, and the Lan River raged for a year, trapping us!”
“Yes, yes!” several older villagers echoed, terrified.
“So you just watch them weep?” Lu Zheng pointed at the families behind.
“Better than all four villages perishing!” the lead elder said, anguished.
Lu Zheng nodded. “You make a fair point.”
Hearing this, many villagers sighed in relief, but the trailing families’ hopeful expressions turned to despair.
Guangyue, unconvinced Lu Zheng would let it go, looked at him curiously. Lu Zheng continued, “But no matter how reasonable you are, can you stop me?”
Lead elder: ???
“Amitabha!” Guangyue looked pleased. “You truly should travel with me.”
“Travel with you, my foot!” Lu Zheng snapped, turning to the Lan River. He saw a black shadow swimming upstream, sinking to hide its reflection.
“Strike!”
Lu Zheng’s vitality surged, propelling him above the Lan River, then diving like an arrow to the riverbed.
“You’re going in?” Guangyue was startled, then saw Lu Zheng form a seal, parting the water three feet before him.
“Water-Repelling Technique?!”
“You keep watch above, I’ll scout below, in case it hides in some dark river crevice,” Lu Zheng said, advancing along the riverbed upstream.
“Good!” Guangyue didn’t hesitate, gripping his staff, running along the bank, fingers poised in a Buddhist seal, ready to strike.
…
Three miles upstream, the terrain grew treacherous, the current rapid. Waves rose inexplicably, and a deep voice boomed in their ears. “You travel your path, I bear you no grudge. We keep to our own ways. Why seek trouble with me?”
“No reason,” Lu Zheng said leisurely, walking along the riverbed, his pace steady. “Just craving some river delicacies. It’s been a while.”
