Chapter Nine: Schemes

In the dense, sunless jungle, a bubbling hot spring sent up clusters of water bubbles. The spring was so clear that the bed of fine white sand at the bottom was visible, with a large black stone slab kept spotlessly clean around the source. Water gushed continuously from beneath the earth, trickling along a few grooves on the stone before quickly seeping into the thick surrounding humus and vanishing from sight.

Ji Wu lounged comfortably in the spring, faint flickers of firelight occasionally dancing across his skin.

Jiang Yao circled the hot spring at a measured pace, dragging along a crimson serpent over ten feet long, chanting ancient, cryptic incantations. The snake’s neck had been sliced open by the black jade dagger in her hand; bright, scalding blood flowed out, pooling on the stone beside the spring to form dozens of strange runes, each as large as a human head.

Seven or eight burly women, nearly three meters tall, powerfully built with muscular limbs, stood at the water’s edge, tossing bundles of medicinal herbs, woven from all manner of leaves, into the spring. At times, they would throw in even stranger things—beast fangs as long as a grown man’s arm, bizarre poison sacs and glands, and the remains or shells of strange, unknown insects.

The once crystal-clear spring gradually changed color. Under the force of Jiang Yao’s sorcery, the water thickened and darkened, turning into a viscous, blood-red liquid. Wisps of crimson vapor rose from the water, seeping into Ji Wu’s body. His entire frame convulsed violently, his rugged features twisting into a mask of pain and ferocity.

A few miles off, Ji Hao stood atop the crown of an ancient, towering tree, smiling as he watched the distant scene.

Below, Old Stone paced anxiously around the tree trunk. His true form was so massive and heavy that no tree could bear his weight. He could only watch Ji Hao with impatience, eager to know what he saw.

Beside him stood Old Tree Demon, whose shape roughly resembled a human’s, yet retained the gnarled essence of an ancient tree. Twisting branches wrapped around its body, cradling a giant wine jar. Every so often, Old Tree Demon would open its pitch-black maw to savor a tiny sip of wine.

Whenever Old Stone passed by, Old Tree Demon would lash his backside with a branch, but Old Stone seemed impervious to pain—the blows had no effect whatsoever.

Up in the treetop, a breathtakingly beautiful girl draped in vines sat beside Ji Hao, toying with a longbow as she smiled. Her aura shifted from moment to moment: when she frowned in thought, she was as ethereal and pure as an immortal spirit of the mountains; when she arched her brows and smiled, her charm blossomed like a field of roses and peonies, bewitching and irresistible.

The girl sat astride a blazing red leopard, its fur streaked with silver spots. The massive beast, over thirty feet in length, stood lightly on a branch no thicker than a child’s fist, the slender twig showing not the slightest tremor.

Old Stone was a “Stone Fiend,” a spirit creature born from ancient boulders in the mountains, nourished over time by celestial energies.

Old Tree Demon was a “Tree Demon,” a member of a race of spirits born from ancient trees that had awakened to sentience and cultivated themselves into humanoid forms by drawing upon the power of heaven and earth.

The girl, named “Hengluo,” was so called by Ji Hao himself. She belonged to the race of “Mountain Spirits,” or “Mountain Gods”—extraordinary beings born from the natural convergence of spiritual energy in the wild, nurtured by the land and sky themselves. From birth, they possessed the power to command beasts, identify plants, and commune with spirits and ghosts.

Since childhood, Ji Hao preferred the company of these strange friends to the other children of his tribe. From the moment he could walk, he wandered the forests. Old Stone, Old Tree Demon, Hengluo, and other rare and marvelous beings became his true companions.

With a crisp crackle, Hengluo suddenly tapped a nearby branch. A green bud rapidly sprouted from the twig, blooming into a giant flower the size of a human head. Fragrant scent billowed out, and within the blossom, the voices of Jiang Yao and Ji Wu could be clearly heard.

Within ten miles of Hengluo in the woods, every plant became her eyes and ears.

Ji Hao crouched beside Hengluo, quietly listening to the conversation between Jiang Yao and her son.

Jiang Yao paced quickly around the spring, tossing in all manner of strange medicines while scolding Ji Wu sharply.

“Wu, you are my son, the grandson of the Grand Witch of the Bi Fang Tribe, the most powerful and influential elder of all. Your blood is far nobler than the lowly Fire Crow line. And yet, you lost to a brat three or four years younger than you?”

Ji Wu grimaced, growling, “Mother, I was just caught off guard by his trickery. At the Ancestor Worship Ceremony, I won’t give him any chance. I’ll cleave him in two with my axe.”

Growing more animated, Ji Wu raised his hands in triumph, swinging them in the air.

Jiang Yao narrowed her eyes, her tone cold as ice. “That’s more like it. The noble blood of our Bi Fang Tribe flows in your veins—how could you lose to the descendants of black crows? Before the whole Fire Crow Tribe, kill Ji Hao as a warning. My son cannot lose to the child of a lowly woman from the Qingyi Tribe.”

Hengluo gazed at Ji Hao in curiosity. “A woman from the Qingyi Tribe? Is she your mother? Hao, I like the scent on your mother very much.”

Listening to the voices from the blossom, Ji Hao replied lazily, “I like my mother too, but if someone else is displeased, there’s nothing I can do.”

From the great flower, Jiang Yao’s voice continued:

“But, Wu, do not kill him. At the Ancestor Worship Ceremony, you and Ji Hao will swear a blood oath before the ancestral spirits. Whoever loses will become the other’s slave.”

“You must make Ji Hao your slave, do you understand?”

Ji Wu roared in his deep, guttural voice. “Slave? I don’t need more slaves. Mother, Father has destroyed a dozen small tribes these years—I already have hundreds of slaves. Why would I want Ji Hao as my slave? I want to kill him.”

“Make him your slave, you fool,” Jiang Yao’s voice turned eerily sinister, “Make him your slave... If I succeed in killing Qingfu at the ceremony, you may do as you please. But if I fail, use Ji Hao’s life to force Qingfu to hand over the two inherited sorcerer treasures she brought as her dowry!”

Ji Hao’s eyes sparkled with delight, genuinely impressed by Jiang Yao’s crafty scheming.

“Excellent, truly excellent. Her man covets my father’s position, she covets my mother’s ancestral treasures, and their son wants to do away with me! What a fine, upstanding family!”

Laughing, Ji Hao pointed toward the direction of the hot spring.

Old Tree Demon opened his jaws, stuffed the wine jar inside, and with a lumbering sway, started making his way toward the spring.

***

A solemn reminder: Hengluo is not the female lead! She is, at best, a close friend—a confidante, not the main heroine!

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