Volume One, Chapter 21: Tempted by Beauty
Page (1/3)
The Daoist glanced around. It was pitch-black, and there was nothing to see, but I sensed that something was wrong.
“Master,” I whispered, “it’s awfully quiet. Even the birds have stopped calling.”
“The weather is about to turn.”
The old hunter suddenly said it for no apparent reason.
I pretended not to understand. “What does that mean? Is it going to rain?”
The old hunter ignored me and turned to the Daoist.
“Master Ma, do you think we can make it through this trial?”
“Hard to say.”
The old hunter sighed and continued, “Everything in these ancient woods has a spirit. After cultivating for hundreds of years, you can’t just let it all be destroyed.”
“Fate.”
I had no idea what the two of them were talking about, but I could feel the Daoist’s tension. Given his temperament, the fewer words he used, the more troublesome the matter was.
“The man and woman who came in earlier—what are they?” I deliberately used the word “what.”
The Daoist looked at me in surprise. “You saw through them?”
I shook my head. “Not really. But they definitely aren’t human.”
“How do you know?”
“Analysis.”
I explained my reasoning.
Before the Daoist could say anything, the old hunter lowered his voice. “The man is a ginseng doll, and the woman is a tiger spirit. They’re both children of the mountains.”
“Are they hiding from a heavenly tribulation?” I asked.
“What heavenly tribulation?” the Daoist replied. “Something terrifying must have appeared in the mountains. It scared even the spirits into seeking refuge among humans.”
I grew curious. “What kind of thing?”
“You’ll have to ask Second Master Feng.”
The Daoist tossed the question to the old hunter. The old hunter drew a deep breath.
“I truly don’t know what could be in these mountains that would drive a tiger out to seek shelter.”
“What about all those identity cards in your room?” The Daoist struck straight at the heart of the matter.
Page (1/3)
Page (2/3)
The old hunter thought for the time it took to smoke half a cigarette. The Daoist kept staring at him, clearly determined to force an answer out of him.
“That day, when you arrived, I thought you had come looking for that group of people.”
“What people?”
The old hunter was just about to speak when a sharp crack sounded nearby, as though someone had stepped on a dead branch.
“What people?” the old hunter demanded, raising his gun.
Silence filled the darkness. It remained deathly still, yet through the gloom there seemed to be the vague outline of a person.
The old hunter’s eyes gleamed. He raised his shotgun and fired into the sky. At the same moment, shrieks of “Oh, my God!” erupted from inside the tavern.
“Who’s there? If you don’t answer, I’m opening fire!”
After more than ten seconds of silence, a delicate female voice came from the darkness. It was gentle and melodious, as soothing as wind chimes.
“Sir, I came into the mountains to gather medicinal herbs and lost my way. Could you take me in for the night?”
The Daoist placed a hand on the old hunter’s gun and said quietly, “Brother, let her come over.”
The old hunter slowly lowered his weapon and shouted, “Come on over!”
She was a girl as beautiful as a fairy. Her hair was long, smooth, straight, and black—the kind of hair seen only in shampoo commercials. Her face was small enough to fit in a palm, fair and spotless. Her large eyes were as clear as water, deep and sharply defined, as though they could see through my past and future lives. Most captivating of all were the two tiny, pearly white canine teeth revealed by her faint smile.
As far as I knew, that was exactly what a fairy ought to look like.
The girl seemed about eighteen or nineteen. She was a little short, roughly my height—around five feet—but her proportions were excellent. In short, she was pleasing to look at. To put it more crudely, everything was large where it ought to be large, and small where it ought to be small.
At that moment, a truly perverse thought entered my mind. I knew perfectly well that she was not human, yet I still liked her. Ghost or demon, I didn’t care. Even if she were a giant macaque, I would have wanted to have a little monkey with her.
Xu Xian and Ning Caichen had set the precedent. I, Xu Duo, would naturally follow in their footsteps. So what if I married a demon? I wasn’t bragging, but I could take on ten men at once, each one with his throat beneath my hand.
A human marrying a spirit was hardly an unforgivable crime. The ancient sage Yu the Great married the Lady of Tushan while controlling the floods. Historical records say that the Lady of Tushan was a nine-tailed fox. Then there were King Zhou and Daji, and Fuxi himself had the head of a man and the body of a serpent. If even the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors couldn’t get past the hurdle of marrying spirits and monsters, how could an ordinary mortal like me be expected to?
No. I was going to marry this girl. No one could stop me.
“Xu Duo, what are you thinking about? Get inside.”
The Daoist’s voice dragged me back to reality. I glanced at the girl and unconsciously swallowed.
Page (2/3)
Page (3/3)
“My name is Xu Duo. What’s yours?”
The girl gave a shy little smile, which served as her reply.
After she entered the room, Dogskin Hat was visibly uneasy. He muttered to himself, “What, another one? Lost her way too?”
No one answered him. The old hunter and the Daoist offered no explanation either.
Seeing that his words had fallen flat, I picked up the conversation. “She’s lost too.”
“Well, this is something. The sun must be rising in the west. Everyone who gets lost ends up at this tavern.”
A moment ago, I had been cursing Dogskin Hat inwardly for shamelessly currying favor with her. Now I was even worse than a lovesick puppy. I eagerly brought the girl tea and water, asked whether she was cold, and thought that if the stove wasn’t burning hot enough, I, Xu Duo, would march into the mountains that very instant to chop firewood. Monsters, demons, ghosts, or snakes—I wasn’t afraid of any of them.
Young men in their adolescence are at the age when they most want to show off, especially when a beautiful girl is involved. Perhaps I was displaying myself a little too enthusiastically. I ended up acting like a lecher, striking up conversation with her at every opportunity. The girl continued to smile shyly, but I detected a trace of anxiety in her eyes.
The old hunter had the Bucktoothed Woman bring over some food. Human or ghost, anyone who came knocking deserved at least something to eat.
It was hardly a feast—just corn boiled in water—but there was a large basin of it, enough for anyone hungry to eat their fill.
After everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, the Daoist tapped the table with his extraordinarily long fingers.
“Since you’ve come, introduce yourselves.”
The short, stout man who claimed to be a ginseng digger grinned cheekily.
“What’s there to introduce? I’ve got no home to speak of. I’ll make do here for one night and leave tomorrow. I can even perform northern folk comedy songs. If you’d like, I’ll sing you a piece.”
“Slap!”
The Daoist suddenly struck the table. His palm remained pressed against it for a moment, then slowly lifted away, revealing several gleaming copper coins shining with golden light.
The short, stout man immediately wiped the smile from his face. A thoughtful expression appeared in its place, and his large eyes darted about as though he were weighing his options.
In a chilling voice, the Daoist said, “Ginseng carrier, what do you think of the quality of these coins?”
“Good. Very good.”
Before the words had even left his mouth, the short, stout man shot toward the door like an arrow. But in the blink of an eye, the old hunter kicked a chair aside and moved into the doorway, blocking his escape.
The short, stout man smiled ingratiatingly. “Easy there, hero. What are you doing? I just need to step outside and relieve myself.”
The old hunter stared at him expressionlessly.
The Daoist sighed. “If I throw these coins at you, your several centuries of cultivation will be ruined.”
Page (3/3)