San Lang glanced at him and flashed a smile. “I’m gonna head out for a bit.”
He turned and left after having tossed those words out casually. Xie Lian should have chased
after him to ask about it, but he had a strange feeling that since San Lang had said he would
leave for “a bit”, then for sure he wouldn’t be gone for too long; he would definitely still return.
Thus, Xie Lian went back inside the shrine.
Xie Lian started rummaging through his large bag of junk and dug out a wok and a butcher
knife. He eyed the vegetables on the altar and stood up. After one incense time30, there was the
sound of footfalls approaching the shrine, as expected. One could imagine from those unhurried
footsteps that it was a particular young man, strolling leisurely. The two objects in Xie Lian’s
hands had now transformed into two plates of food. He looked over them and heaved a long
sigh, unable to bear the sight of their tragedy. He set the plates down and went out for a look.
Sure enough, he saw San Lang again.
Outside the shrine, perhaps it was because of the blazing sun, but San Lang had his red tunic
peeled and tied around his waist. It revealed his white undershirt, its sleeves pulled back,
looking rather clean and tidy. His right foot stepped on top of a large wooden board, and he had
a hatchet in his left hand. The hatchet was probably borrowed from one of the neighbours; it
looked blunt and heavy, but he wielded it so easily, it was as if it was a very sharp blade. San
Lang nonchalantly hacked at the board, shaving off wood like dough. He peered from the corner
of his eyes and saw Xie Lian come out.
“Just making something,” he said.
Xie Lian watched San Lang work, and realized he was making a door! It was just the perfect
size, detailed and exquisite. Xie Lian thought that, since he must’ve come from a wealthy family,
San Lang wouldn’t be the physical labour type, but that was obviously not the case. There was
definitely more to him than meets the eye.
“Thanks for your hard work, San Lang.” Xie Lian said.
San Lang simply smiled, threw down the hatchet, and installed the door. He knocked on it twice
and said, “If you’re going to draw a seal, at least draw it on a proper door. Works better.”
Then he swept aside the curtain and entered the shrine.
It seemed that the seal on the curtains really had no effect on him, and he didn’t even care for it.
30 One incense time is about five minutes.
Xie Lian closed the new door behind him, but couldn’t help but open it again, then close it. He
opened and closed it again. Then again. Amazed by how well it was made, Xie Lian opened and
closed the door several times before suddenly realizing how foolish he was being. San Lang
had already sat down inside, and Xie Lian left the door to bring out steamed buns the villagers
had offered earlier in the morning onto the altar table.
San Lang took a look at the buns and didn’t say anything. He merely chuckled softly as if he
knew something, but Xie Lian ignored him and reached over to pour two bowls of water. Just as
he was about to sit down, he saw San Lang rolling up his sleeves. There was a small line of
tattoo with markings of strange characters on his arm. San Lang noticed his gaze, and pulled
down his sleeves then smiled.
“It was done when I was young.”
It was obvious San Lang didn’t want to speak more on the subject, so Xie Lian didn’t pursue it.
He sat down and looked up at the portrait again.
He said, “San Lang, you paint so well. Did someone at home teach you?”
“No, I just do it for fun.” San Lang poked at the buns with his chopsticks.
“How do you even know how to paint the Prince of Xianle?” Xie Lian asked.
“Didn’t you say I know everything? Of course I know how to paint him too.” San Lang laughed.
This was a shameless way of answering, but San Lang evidently didn’t care if his answers
would make Xie Lian suspicious, nor was he afraid of being questioned, so Xie Lian smiled and
dropped the subject.
Just then, there was a loud commotion outside the shrine. Both of them raised their heads at the
same time and exchanged looks. Someone started knocking on the door urgently, shouting.
“Great immortal! Something’s happened! Great immortal, help!”
Xie Lian opened the door and saw a number of villagers surrounding his door. The Chief saw
the door open, and called out in relief.
“Great immortal! This person looks like he’s dying! Please save him!”
Hearing this, Xie Lian rushed to the group of villagers standing in a circle around what appeared
to be a cultivator. He was unkempt and disheveled, with sand all over him, and his robes and
shoes were tattered. It seemed he had been running for his life for a long time before collapsing
in the village, where the villagers brought him to the Puqi Shrine in a hurry.
Xie Lian told the crowd, “Don’t worry, he’s not dead.” He knelt down and felt the man’s pulse and various pressure points. On his body Xie Lian found
a number of magical accessories, like the eight trigrams map, a steel sword, and so on. This
man didn’t appear to be an ordinary cultivator, and Xie Lian’s heart sank.
Not long later, the cultivator slowly opened his eyes, and asked in a croaking voice, “... where
am I?”
The chief exclaimed, “This is the village of Puqi!”
The man mumbled to himself, “... I’m out, I’m out…I’ve finally escaped…” He looked around him
and widened his eyes, screaming in fear. “S-SAVE ME! HELP!”
Xie Lian had expected this reaction, and gently asked, “My friend, what’s going on? What are
you running from? Don’t be afraid, take your time to say it clearly…”
“Yeah, don’t be scared! We’ve got a god on our side, he’ll definitely solve all your problems!”
Xie Lian, “???”
None of these villagers actually saw him perform any miracles, but they had certainly become
quite devout, and there wasn’t much Xie Lian could say.
“Solve all problems? There’s no guarantee at all…”
Xie Lian asked the cultivator, “Where did you come from?”
“I…I’ve come from the Banyue31 Pass!” that cultivator replied.
The villagers looked at each other.
“Where’s that?”
“Never heard of it before!”
Xie Lian explained, “The Banyue Pass is in the northwest, a fair distance away. How did you
make it over here?”
“I…I’ve finally escaped and came here…”
His words were incoherent and his mood unstable. In such a situation, the more people around,
the harder it was to speak with everyone talking at the same time.
So Xie Lian said, “Let’s talk inside.”
31 “Banyue” means “half moon”.
Xie Lian easily lifted the cultivator up from the ground and helped him into the shrine. He turned
to say to the villagers, “Everyone, please return. Don’t watch anymore.”
“Great immortal, what’s happened to him?”
“Yeah, what’s going on?”
“If there’s anything we can do to help…”
The villagers were very enthusiastic, but that was precisely what was making this more difficult.
Without any choice, Xie Lian told them seriously, “He…may be bewitched.”
Upon hearing this, the villagers were greatly alarmed. Bewitchment was no joke! Better not stick
around. The crowd broke up and everyone hurried away. Xie Lian didn’t know whether to laugh
or cry, and shook his head. He closed the door; San Lang was still at the table playing with his
chopsticks, and he eyed the cultivator closely.
“Don’t worry about him. Keep eating,” Xie Lian told him. He then set the man down on the other
stool while he stood. “My friend, I’m the Shrine Master here, and also something of a cultivator.
Don’t be nervous, you can tell us if there’s anything. I can perhaps give you a hand if there’s
anything I can help with. You mentioned the Banyue Pass?”
The cultivator took a few gasps of air. After coming to a place with fewer people and listening to
Xie Lian’s comforting words, the man finally calmed down.
“Have you ever heard of the Banyue Pass?”
“I have,” Xie Lian said. “It’s a city32 built within an oasis in the Gobi Desert. It received its name
from the beauty of its night scenery. When the moon half-hangs in the night sky, I hear it’s a
sight to behold.”
“Oasis? Beauty?” The cultivator shook his head. “That’s all from over two hundred years ago!
Half Moon? More like Half Dead.”
“What do you mean?” Xie Lian asked.
The man’s face turned white as a sheet. “Because at least half of those who pass through its
gates will disappear!”
Xie Lian had never heard of this before. “Who did you hear this from?”
“I didn’t hear it from anyone! I saw with my own two eyes!” The man sat up straight. “There was
a merchant group needing to cross the desert. They knew that place wasn’t safe, so they hired
32 Walled City, and in this case, City-State.
my entire sect to guard them on their journey. But…” He cried angrily, “But in the end, I’m the
only one left!”
Xie Lian waved his hand, gesturing to him to relax. “How many were you?”
“With my sect plus the merchant group, we were about sixty people!”
Sixty. In the one hundred years Xuan Ji wreaked havoc, only two hundred or so people lost their
lives, according to Ling Wen’s records. But from what this cultivator said, this matter had been
going on for over a hundred years. If so many people went missing every time over the course
of a couple hundred years, then the numbers would be significant once they were added up.
“When did the Half Moon Pass become the Half Dead Pass?” Xie Lian asked.
The cultivator replied, “Maybe about a hundred and fifty years ago? It was right after it became
the den of a ghost.”
Xie Lian wanted to ask about the demon in more detail, but couldn’t stop the feeling that there
was something not right, and it wasn’t sitting well with him. At this point, there was no way to
hide that strange feeling in his heart. He furrowed his brows and became silent.
Suddenly, San Lang spoke up, “You escaped from the Banyue Pass, and never stopped
running until now?”
“Yeah! Sigh, barely survived!” That cultivator sighed.
“Really.” San Lang stopped talking, but Xie Lian already understood what was amiss.
He turned around and said warmly, “You must be thirsty, having escaped all this way?”
The man paused, but Xie Lian had already placed a bowl of water in front of him.
“Here. Have some water.”
Looking at the water, hesitation flashed across the man’s face. Xie Lian stood next to him,
hands crossed in his sleeves, waiting patiently.
This man traveled far from the northwest, and was running for his life no less. He should be
starving and parched. From the looks of him, it didn’t seem like he ate or drank anything the
entire way. Yet when he woke, all he did was talk, and never once asked for a single drop of
water or a bite to eat. He had no visible craving when faced with the food and water on the altar
after entering the shrine. Heck, he didn’t even spare a look at any of them.
Truly, very unlike the living.
TBC
2025 words :)
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