Chapter 96

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In the early morning, a solitary tree, stripped bare of its bark, stood in the morning breeze. The Toad Daoist, wrapped in a small cotton jacket, shivered and shook his legs beneath his robe. Higher up on the tree, a man’s body lay stretched out—Lu Liangsheng awakened from his deep sleep, feeling a trace of his once-empty spiritual power returning to his body.

Bathed in the morning light, the surroundings remained barren. One mountain after another stood desolate and bare, resembling massive grave mounds, filling him with a sense of desolation.

The Daoist also crawled out from between the rocks, stretched lazily, and followed the scholar’s gaze to the dark mass of refugees below.

“When will this ever end?”

Lu Liangsheng remained silent. Instead, he woke his drowsy master, still sluggish from the winter cold. The Toad Daoist yawned, rubbed his bleary eyes, and watched as the scholar packed up their belongings and led over the old donkey.

“Let’s keep moving forward.”

By now, Lu Liangsheng no longer had the ability to help. In the end, solving the plight of the northwestern refugees was the court’s responsibility. But after witnessing the situation for days on end, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed…

As he led the old donkey and walked down the hillside with the Daoist, someone outside the distant city caught sight of the figure in white upon the hill and shouted. The surrounding mass of people raised their faces like waves surging forward. All at once, they stood up, startling the soldiers atop the city walls. The guards clenched their weapons tightly, fearing the disaster-stricken refugees were about to storm the city.

On the hill, the scholar leading the donkey stopped in his tracks and looked toward the commotion.

“They…” The Daoist couldn’t help but mutter, “…they aren’t going to rush at us, are they? I told you not to be so soft-hearted, and now—”

Before he could finish his words, a figure at the front of the distant crowd suddenly dropped to their knees with a thud.

Then another.

And another.

In the blink of an eye, a dark mass of people had all knelt.

“White-robed Immortal, please save us!” “I don’t want to die…”

“…Don’t leave! Please, beg the heavens to send us some rain!”

“My son can’t hold on much longer. Please, save him! He’s still so young, he hasn’t even seen the world…”

“Don’t go! White-robed Immortal, please don’t leave…”

Countless fragmented pleas, like drifting snowflakes, filled the air. Lu Liangsheng closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.

“I truly wish I were an immortal…Let’s go.”

Even after leaving the city, Lu Liangsheng’s heart remained unsettled. Along the northern road, the refugee caravans still stretched endlessly. Seeing the scholar and the Daoist in their clean robes, many came forward, begging for food.

As they traveled, scenes of plundering and slaughter became a common sight. In times of famine, even the bandits in the mountains could not escape hardship. With no more “fat sheep” to rob, they too had no choice but to flee—killing travelers for supplies, seizing women, then disappearing into the mountains.

Lu Liangsheng helped whenever he could, but more often than not, all he found were desecrated corpses.

“I, this Daoist, haven’t even held a woman’s hand before… These bastards deserve to die!”

Sun Yingsian cursed furiously. Not long after, they encountered another group of bandits. Unable to contain his rage, he charged forward alone, using Daoist techniques to immobilize several of them. However, before he could vent his anger, the surrounding refugees swarmed in and hacked the bandits apart, dividing the pieces among themselves.

From the south to the north, horrors beyond belief unfolded at every turn.

As Lu Liangsheng walked this road, the words he had once read in books—about natural selection and the survival of the fittest—were no longer mere concepts. They were now playing out before his very eyes, raw and undeniable.

The setting sun hung over the barren mountaintops. Another day was coming to an end.

Veering away from the congested refugee roads, Lu Liangsheng led his old donkey along a secluded mountain path. He could no longer bear to witness the misery outside. Taking this desolate trail at least meant encountering fewer refugees.

In the dim twilight, they turned a corner and spotted several houses standing behind a grove of withered trees. They were connected, resembling an inn.

“An inn? In a place like this?”

The Daoist went ahead to scout the area. Before long, he returned, shaking his head. “No one’s here. Likely slaughtered by passing bandits.”

“Then we’ll rest here for the night.”

Lu Liangsheng spoke lightly, leading the old donkey toward the abandoned inn. Though his spiritual power had returned, the journey had drained him—body and soul. Fatigue weighed upon him.

The scorched corner of the signboard swayed in the wind, creaking as Lu Liangsheng stepped past the collapsed doorway. Inside, most of the furnishings had been smashed to pieces and lay scattered across the floor. The counter was stained with old, dried blood, and the wine jars on top had shattered, their remains tilted to one side.

Since there was no one left, they gathered the broken tables and chairs in the hall to use as firewood, lighting a bonfire. Two intact long tables happened to serve as makeshift beds.

The Toad Daoist hopped out of the small compartment, stretched out his webbed hands toward the fire, and urged the Daoist to hurry up and take out their supplies to cook a meal.

Meanwhile, Honglian helped clean one of the long tables, stirring up clouds of dust in the process. Just as Lu Liangsheng brought over a small pot, footsteps suddenly echoed from outside. Two couples, each with a child, stood at the entrance, looking warily at the scholar and Daoist who had arrived first.

“Come inside. We’re just stopping here to rest as well.”

Lu Liangsheng invited them in while taking measure of the newcomers. They were clearly not well-off, dressed in old and thin clothing ill-suited for the early winter cold. Standing at the doorway, they shivered from the chill, while the three children beside them curiously eyed the toad dressed in a small cotton jacket.

“Father, Mother, look! That toad…”

The parents immediately tugged their child’s sleeve, shooting them a stern look to keep quiet. It seemed the two families were neighbors, fleeing together. They cautiously nodded to Lu Liangsheng and the Daoist before settling in a corner. No matter what, having shelter from the wind was far better than freezing outside.

Following the scholar and Daoist’s example, they started a small fire and placed their cold, dry rations near the flames to warm them. By then, the pot in the hall had begun to boil, filling the air with the fragrance of rice porridge. Their stomachs rumbled at the scent, especially the children, who couldn’t help but turn their heads toward the cooking pot. When they saw chunks of meat being added in, they swallowed their saliva greedily.

The sun dipped below the horizon, and night fell outside.

In the iron pot, the thin porridge bubbled, while pieces of snake meat rolled on the surface. Lu Liangsheng scooped two bowls and brought them over to the two families.

“We have enough. These two bowls are for the children.”

The parents hesitated, unsure what to do, unwilling to accept the food. Lu Liangsheng simply smiled, not taking offense. He understood that in such desperate times, it was hard to trust others easily. He placed the two bowls on the ground and returned to the fire, sharing a single bowl of porridge with the Daoist, taking turns to eat.

However, before long, a flurry of footsteps sounded outside. A voice called out from beyond the doorway:

“They’re in here! I saw those two families enter!”

In the inn, the two men and two women in the corner, eating dry rations, visibly shuddered. The children, sipping porridge, shrank in fear toward their parents.

Lu Liangsheng and the Daoist exchanged a glance, then stood up and turned around. The door, which had been standing firm to block the wind, was suddenly kicked open with a loud crash. Six men stood in the doorway, clad in fur coats and long pants, wielding knives and axes. Their faces were grim and vicious. The leader, carrying a long sword on his back, swept his gaze across the room, spotting the two families, as well as the scholar, the Daoist, and the old donkey resting against the wall.

“Still two more…Looks like we’ll have donkey meat tonight.”

A cruel smile spread across his face as he waved his hand, signaling his men to block the door.

“That scholar and the little Daoist over there, it’s just bad luck for you tonight. Leave everything behind, and get the hell out—bare-assed!”

He then turned his attention to the women and children. “As for you lot, the women and children stay.”

The two families huddled together in the corner, shivering in fear.

The inn grew silent, with only the crackling of the bonfire and the occasional grunts of the old donkey, as if mocking the situation.

Over by the fire, Lu Liangsheng placed a hand on the Daoist, who seemed ready to charge, and pulled out several pieces of silver from his sleeve.

“The clothes you’re asking for won’t fit, but these are all the valuables I have. You may as well take them.”

“Haha… hahaha, well, this scholar knows his place.”

The bandit leader walked over, eyeing the silver in Lu Liangsheng’s hand. Without suspicion, he grabbed it, tossing it up and down in his palm. “Not bad.”

He then tossed it to one of his subordinates to keep.

The Toad Daoist behind Lu Liangsheng, observing the scene, calmly continued drinking his meat porridge.

The Daoist, standing nearby, sneered and turned to sit back down.

The bandit leader furrowed his brows, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword.

“What are you laughing at?!”

“You dared to take his things with your own hand? You’re finished.”