Chapter 25: The Well and the Woman
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Snoring wasn’t really a big deal—as long as it was steady, you could get used to it and sleep through it. Teeth grinding was different though—it was sudden bursts of grinding and gnashing that came out of nowhere. If you were used to it, fine, but if not, you’d think someone was scratching wooden boards in the middle of the night.
Teeth grinding was worse than snoring. Zhang He cursed silently with a gloomy face. ‘How unlucky am I to have to watch over a pig for three months?’
‘He wouldn’t get a good night’s sleep for the next hundred-plus days.’
“Fine, grind away then. You sleep at the foot of the bed, far away from me.” Zhang He pointed to the foot of the bed with a bitter expression.
“Sure, I can sleep anywhere.” Xu Yan was quite satisfied to have a place to stay. Just as he was about to take off his shoes and socks, he looked at the flour all over himself and asked, “Fellow traveler benefactor, where can I wash my hands?”
“My name is Zhang He, not ‘fellow traveler benefactor.’ Go north, there’s a well. You can draw water and wash yourself.”
Zhang He had already lain down and spoke impatiently, then sat up again.
If the other person wanted to wash his hands, he had to follow. If this little Taoist priest really ran away, the leaders would beat him half to death later. When the two left the room, Zhang He suddenly remembered something and stared at Xu Yan’s flour-covered hands, asking, “You didn’t wash your hands?”
“No, I just arrived and couldn’t find clean water.” Xu Yan answered honestly.
“You just used the latrine and went to wrap dumplings without washing your hands?” Zhang He finally found something to hold over him and said smugly, “You’re dead. The three leaders ate all the dumplings you wrapped. If people find out about this, hehe.”
Zhang He’s implication was that if people found out you wrapped dumplings for the three leaders without washing your hands after using the latrine, they’d skin you alive. ‘From now on, he’d have this leverage—things like emptying chamber pots, you’d better volunteer for.’
Seeing Zhang He’s malicious smile, Xu Yan shrank his neck in fear and said quietly, “The dumplings I wrapped were for myself to eat. You were the one who sent them to the three leaders.”
The night wind was chilly. Zhang He felt a chill down his back and quickly looked around, lowering his voice: “Just my luck. Don’t mention this again, understand? Don’t tell anyone, or we’ll both be in trouble!”
‘His scheme had backfired and he’d gotten himself involved too.’ Zhang He cursed silently in his heart.
‘What perfect leverage that had been! If he hadn’t been so meddlesome, this foolish little Taoist priest would have had to obey his every command from now on.’
Yuan Mountain Stronghold had over a thousand people. Besides the three leaders, there were more than ten minor chiefs. Zhang He’s status in Yuan Mountain Stronghold wasn’t high—he always wanted to climb higher but never had the opportunity.
‘Now even the chance to take on a simpleton as a subordinate was gone.’
Muttering and grumbling, the two arrived at the well. Zhang He yawned and waited on the side while Xu Yan drew half a bucket of clean water to wash his hands.
The little Taoist priest bent over, but his eyes weren’t looking at the clean water—they were gazing at a swaying black shadow in the distance.
It wasn’t a ghost, but a living person, and a woman at that. She had already walked away when Xu Yan and Zhang He approached.
A woman lingering by the well in the middle of the night made Xu Yan somewhat curious, but it was only curiosity. He still needed to figure out how to leave this bandit stronghold.
Taoist priests were supposed to live in Taoist temples. Xu Yan didn’t want to actually become a mountain bandit.
Returning to their lodging, Xu Yan slept in his clothes, closing his eyes and thinking about everything that had happened today—from encountering the bandits to finally wrapping dumplings in the stronghold, from the blade tip piercing through the Cheng family servant’s heart to embedding in the horse’s rump, even the chaos of the surrounding bandits cheering and the expressions and faces of the three bandit chiefs at that time.
Every detail was repeatedly pondered in Xu Yan’s mind until he was certain he had no flaws whatsoever. Only then did he drift off to sleep drowsily. The little Taoist priest’s last thought before falling asleep was the fierce expression on the Cheng family servant’s face before death, and the hint of admiration in those blood-red eyes.
This wasn’t Xu Yan’s first time killing. All the Taiqing Sect Taoist priests at Chengyun Temple had died by his hand. This was his first time killing with a blade, and he’d killed a neighbor who bore him no grudge. However, Xu Yan felt no guilt whatsoever.
If that blade hadn’t struck down, the other person wouldn’t have survived anyway. Using someone who was bound to die to save the Cheng family’s elderly and young—not only did Xu Yan think this deal was worth it, but that Cheng family servant also thought he’d made a huge profit.
Xu Yan indeed wanted to be a pig, because pigs not only weren’t afraid of ghosts, but could also completely hide his astonishing intelligence.
Master had told him since childhood that there were too many clever people in this world, and the cleverer someone was, the more likely they were to be misled by their own cleverness.
Xu Daoyuan was right. The old Taoist priest had been misled by his own cleverness his entire life, so Xu Yan never showed his shrewd side in front of others.
Dawn broke in the east—another new day. From then on, Xu Yan could only helplessly remain at Yuan Mountain Stronghold. Zhang He, his inseparable fellow traveler, gave him no chance whatsoever to escape this bandit stronghold.
‘It seems I won’t be able to leave Yuan Mountain Stronghold anytime soon.’ Xu Yan sighed in his heart, glanced at Zhang He beside him, and continued starting a new day’s labor.
Helping in the kitchen involved not only the morning and evening meals, but also chopping firewood, boiling water, and cleaning dishes. Yuan Mountain Stronghold’s kitchen raised quite a few poultry, and the fat cook dumped all the work of feeding chickens and ducks on Xu Yan.
‘Free labor—why not use it?’
As for these chores, Xu Yan was quite familiar with them. After all, he had to work at the Taoist temple too—at Yuan Mountain Stronghold, he’d just changed locations.
The diligent little Taoist priest brought considerable convenience to the stronghold’s kitchen. The other cooks no longer had to do menial tasks like chopping firewood and boiling water. Especially Zhang He—after discovering how hardworking Xu Yan was, he dumped all his work on Xu Yan too.
Outside the pig pen, Zhang He cracked sunflower seeds while watching Xu Yan feed the pigs, glancing at the new little black pig in the pen and saying, “Better to kill it while it’s small. Let’s eat this wild piglet tonight. Once it grows up, no pig pen will be able to contain it.”
“It’s not a wild pig, it’s a domestic pig.” Xu Yan said with certainty. “We raised it at our Taoist temple. I was afraid of being hungry, so I stole it when I left.”
“Oh, so you’re a thief too.” Zhang He looked at the little black pig with confusion. “Are there black domestic pigs? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Black pigs have very fragrant meat.” Xu Yan explained while feeding the pigs. “Raise it for a few more months and it’ll be ready for slaughter. A few hundred jin would be enough for many people to eat. It’s still small now—not suitable to eat yet.”
“That makes sense. Xu Yan, do you know martial arts?” Zhang He stretched lazily and asked listlessly. Seeing the little Taoist priest shake his head, he perked up and began explaining: “At our Yuan Mountain Stronghold, not knowing martial arts won’t do. Don’t think that just because you killed someone, you’re tough—that was someone who was about to die anyway. If you really had to fight someone, your small frame would definitely suffer, especially in Great Pu’s martial arts world. Only those who’ve cultivated true qi can be considered real experts.”
“True qi?” Xu Yan scratched his head. “What is true qi?”
Xu Yan wasn’t pretending to be stupid—he really hadn’t heard of true qi before. Linshan Town was a border town inhabited by ordinary people, with very few who knew martial arts. Though the old Taoist priest had told many miraculous stories about martial artists and even cultivators, he’d never explained the origins of true qi to him.
“True qi is innate true qi, cultivated in the dantian.” Zhang He pointed to his lower abdomen. “Only by cultivating a breath of innate true qi can you enter the hall and become a true innate martial artist. Without it, no matter how many techniques you know or how wonderful your movement skills, you’ll still bow down before an innate martial artist.”
“Is true qi very powerful?” Xu Yan chatted with this fellow traveler while busying himself with his tasks.
“More than powerful!” Zhang He spat out a sunflower seed shell. “See our three leaders? Those three are innate martial artists. Someone like me—they could take on ten or twenty of us.”
“Fellow traveler benefactor doesn’t have innate true qi?” Xu Yan said with infinite longing.
“What ‘fellow traveler benefactor’—that sounds awful. You can call me Benefactor Zhang or Brother Zhang—anything’s better than ‘fellow traveler benefactor.'” Zhang He waved his hand and continued explaining what he knew about the differences between martial artists and innate practitioners.
