Bandits raiding a manor was hardly surprising.
"Raiding a manor" was jianghu cant for storming the walled estate of a wealthy clan.
The Great Xuan Dynasty was barely a century old, yet land consolidation was worsening by the day. Combined with the entrenched power of prominent clans, tyrannical gentry and wealthy squires had become as thick as hairs on an ox.
They had no fear of dirt-poor peasants, nor did they dread imperial law; the first order of business for every newly appointed local magistrate was always to curry favor with them.
Men like Fort Li's Li Huairen were relatively decent—at the very least, he abided by common decency and the rules.
Li Yan had heard of tyrannical, arrogant squires elsewhere who trampled ordinary people and treated human life as worthless. Merely fabricating an infraction against clan rules gave them license to beat someone to death with total impunity.
Even local officials kept their mouths shut.
The only thing these wealthy landlords truly feared was bandits.
Consequently, every one of them threw up tall walls around sprawling compounds, hired armed guards for defense, and made frequent donations to the local Divine Fist Association to recruit jianghu forces for protection.
Generally speaking, however, bandits rarely massacred entire villages.
Not out of mercy, but because they had no desire to kill the hen that laid the golden eggs.
The common folk were the grass; the wealthy gentry were the sheep.
Where there was grass, there would always be sheep.
A single raid could keep bandits living comfortably for quite some time.
In some places, bandits and local squires even colluded, using the pretext of "bandit suppression" to wring the populace dry every few months.
Yet this occasion was decidedly out of the ordinary.
An imperial eunuch living under an assumed identity; mounted bandits from as far away as Qilu; an entire village slaughtered to the last soul…
No matter how one looked at it, this was about far more than mere coin.
At this thought, Li Yan's brow furrowed, and he asked, "If you ran into bandits, why didn't you simply report it to the authorities in Xianyang? How did you end up reduced to this?"
"Don't get me started…"
Sha Lifei wore a face long as a funeral. "The Daoist and I slipped back to Xianyang under cover of night, fully intending to report it. But just as we were about to, we saw someone had already beaten us there."
"Who?"
"Squire Lu's concubine in the red robe, plus Zhao Cheng, the head of the manor guards! Dressed in mourning burlap, sniveling and weeping, claiming she was carrying Squire Lu's child and begging the magistrates for justice…"
"Deceitful bastards! Plain as day, it's an inside job colluding with the bandits outside."
"I was ready to expose them on the spot, but the Daoist grabbed me and dragged me away."
"We didn't dare take the main roads, so we trekked through the hills and ridges all the way to Fort Li."
Li Yan could hear the simmering grievance and confusion still lingering in Sha Lifei's voice.
Li Yan sneered coldly. "The Daoist did the right thing. If you had dared show your face, you wouldn't have made it out of Xianyang alive."
Sha Lifei blinked. "Why?"
Wang Daoxuan had finally eaten his fill. Letting out a burp, he shook his head and sighed. "I didn't dare say much on the road, but that Squire Lu… was a eunuch!"
"A eunuch?!"
Sha Lifei was utterly dumbfounded, and beads of cold sweat immediately broke out on his forehead.
Slick and shrewd as he was, how could he fail to grasp the treacherous implications?
Massacring a village was meant to silence all witnesses. Bandits never feared notoriety—spreading word of their deeds only made their name—so the only reason to wipe everyone out was to keep a secret from getting out. And anything tied to an imperial eunuch had to trace back to the royal clan…
The inside traitors staying behind meant the matter was far from finished…
"W-What do we do now?"
The thought made Sha Lifei's head spin.
Li Yan shook his head. "It's a hornet's nest. Several bandit crews working in concert, plus mounted bandits brought in from other provinces—it means a great deal is tangled up in this. There are very likely officials from the yamen involved as well. Anyone sucked in is as good as dead."
"Lay low for now. Wait until the dust settles."
"Too many eyes and ears in the village. Hide out on the mountain; I'll bring you food. Once the wind blows over, we'll go out to scout for news."
"I suppose there's nothing else for it."
Sha Lifei and Wang Daoxuan exchanged glances, both utterly helpless.
"By the way, Daoist, I have one more favor to ask of you…"
***
By the time Li Yan returned to the village, roosters were already crowing.
He slipped quietly into his room, pretending he had only just awoken. After getting up, he fed the chickens, drew water, lit the stove to cook, and put a pot of corn porridge on to simmer before practicing his martial arts in the courtyard.
First came the Ten Great Foundation Exercises, followed by combat techniques and saber forms.
It was as if none of the previous night's turmoil had ever taken place.
Yet he knew everything had changed.
Achieving spirit preservation meant he had truly stepped into Xuanmen. Beyond that lay investigating the truth of his father's death and the shadowy hand persecuting his clan; he had no shortage of matters to resolve.
Even so, he could not leave Fort Li yet, for his grandfather's condition was growing worse by the day.
After the curse on the lintel plaque was lifted, Li Gui had indeed seemed invigorated for a brief spell, but that had not lasted long. Over the past few days, the old man had become lethargic and excessively sleepy, often sitting outside the door in a daze.
He would sit there an entire day, sometimes even forgetting Li Yan's name.
It was fortunate that Wang Daoxuan had arrived the night before. The Daoist possessed decent medical skill, certainly far superior to any local country quack, so Li Yan had asked him to disguise himself as an itinerant physician and pay a visit that day to examine the old man.
"Practicing medicine and dispensing cures, bringing succor to the world…"
Shortly after breakfast, a vendor's cry drifted in from the village entrance. It was none other than Wang Daoxuan.
He still wore his tattered Daoist robes, but he carried a small cloth pennant in his left hand and shook a ringed jingling bell in his right, instantly drawing the eyes of mischievous village children, who scrambled over to watch.
In this insular little village, the arrival of any stranger was major news.
As for his getup, it too had its traditions.
The cloth pennant was freshly lettered, torn from a piece of Sha Lifei's ragged clothing.
The ringed bell in his hand was known as a tiger-brace bell. Legend had it that the King of Medicine had encountered a wild tiger pleading for aid because a bone splinter was lodged in its throat. Fearing the beast might snap and maim him, the King of Medicine placed a brace between the tiger's jaws while extracting the bone, and once cured, the tiger became his loyal mount.
Among the Skin Branch, itinerant healers walking the streets were known in cant as "pack-pushers."
The tiger-brace bell was their unmistakable trademark.
As the old saying went, *A fortune-teller can turn healer in a single morning.*
Back when Wang Daoxuan had wandered the jianghu without work, he had often posed as an itinerant physician. This gear had simply been ready to hand.
Having prepared well in advance, Li Yan hurried out to greet him and ushered Wang Daoxuan into the house.
"I'm fine, eating and drinking just like always! What's there to examine?"
The old man was visibly resistant, reluctant and unwilling.
Li Yan quickly offered a few soothing words, and with Wang Daoxuan's genial manner putting him at ease, Li Gui grumpily acquiesced without further protest.
After going through the four diagnostic methods—looking, listening, asking, and taking the pulse—Wang Daoxuan smiled faintly. "The elder's constitution is quite sound. It is merely his advanced age and depleted vitality. Steep some sour jujube seeds, poria spirit, and licorice root in hot water for him to drink a bit each day, and that should suffice."
"Told you I wasn't sick. Senseless fuss, wasting good coin."
Li Gui grumbled under his breath, though he was visibly relieved.
After a few more words, he began dozing off again, snoring softly in a muddle-headed stupor.
Li Yan, however, had already detected something amiss. Once outside, he pulled Wang Daoxuan aside to a secluded spot and asked anxiously, "Daoist, what is his true condition?"
Wang Daoxuan's expression turned grave. Stroking his beard, he shook his head. "The old man truly suffers from no illness. It is simply that his qi and blood have withered; his years have caught up with him."
"However, when taking his pulse just now, I subtly channeled my divine abilities. I found his soul essence to be exceedingly faint—that, I fear, is the true root of the trouble."
"What in the world happened?"
Li Yan went quiet for a moment before roughly explaining the matter of the curse. Troubled, he asked, "The Yansheng sorcery has already been broken, so why would he still end up like this?"
Over these days, he had come to trust Wang Daoxuan, so he held nothing back.
"Then it is hardly surprising," Wang Daoxuan sighed. "Of the many forms of Yansheng sorcery, the vicious sorts can claim a life in a matter of days, while others exert their influence in secret to ruin a family and wipe out a bloodline."
"Whoever did this clearly wished to avoid drawing attention."
"This sorcery not only rots family fortune and thins the line of male heirs, but it also stirs up misfortune and invites malevolent spirits. Although your grandfather could not consciously perceive it, he was subconsciously resisting it the entire time."
"It may well be that your safe survival to this day was entirely thanks to the old man shielding you."
"In the end, he is but a mortal man. It is like drawing a bow and notching an arrow, holding the string taut without releasing it; doing so drains one's spirit, qi, and blood. Once the sorcery was broken, he likely experienced a brief surge of relief, but the toll on his soul was simply too severe. Compounded by his advanced age, I fear his time is short…"
Though Li Yan had already suspected as much, his heart still twitched violently. "Is there any way to save him?"
"Difficult," Wang Daoxuan said, shaking his head. "This is no sickness. His appointed time has simply arrived. Make the most of this period to stay by his side."
"Remember this: if the old man suddenly develops a craving for ice, you must begin preparing for his funeral."
"Why?"
"False yang floating outward—the final flare of a dying fire."
***
No sooner had Li Yan seen Wang Daoxuan out the door than a crowd of villagers intercepted him.
Ordinary folk in the village found medical treatment hard to come by. For common aches and fevers, they usually managed with home remedies, venturing into town only when they could no longer bear it.
Now that an itinerant physician had finally appeared, everyone naturally clamored for a consultation.
In low spirits, Li Yan had no patience to linger and brushed past them.
Returning to the room, he saw his grandfather still sound asleep. After standing in silence for a while, he turned and went to the stable out back. Leading out the horse Squire Lu had given him, he went to find the carter, Big Tooth Du.
"Uncle Du, help me sell this horse. I have an errand for you."
"Name it, Brother Yan."
"Hire an opera troupe to perform in the village for a few days."
"Mind you, make up some other reason for it…"
***
Two days later, an opera troupe arrived in the village.
According to the troupe master, when he was wandering the jianghu in his youth and nearly starved to death, someone in Fort Li had given him food, saving his life.
He claimed this was to repay that kindness, promising five consecutive days of performances.
The common folk cared nothing for his motives; whoever funded the good deed, a free show was a free show. Such spectacles were hard to come by, and even the villagers from neighboring settlements walked a dozen li just to join the excitement.
Every night, Fort Li was ablaze with candlelight and bustling with deafening cheers.
If nothing else, grandfather Li Gui was overjoyed.
The old man had no other passions in life except listening to opera.
In years past, whenever he caught wind of an opera playing somewhere, he would rise early, taking Li Yan along in a donkey cart to watch. But with his failing health and stiff legs in recent years, he had been confined to the house.
Now and then, he would murmur about visiting Chang'an to watch an opera if he ever had the time.
Li Yan could not hire the celebrated stars of Chang'an, but a rustic traveling troupe from Lantian was well within reach.
*The Investiture of the Gods*, *Shooting the Nine Suns*, *Tale of Loyalty and Righteousness*…
For several days running, the rugged strains of Qinqiang opera echoed through the entire village.
The old man indulged his passion to his heart's content. Even after the troupe departed and he returned home, he kept bellowing out lines:
"A single command shakes the peaks and streams,
Warriors don armor, mount up in gleaming gleams,
Young and old unite their roaring cry,
Urging steeds to the front where banners fly…"
His pitch was unsteady, but the delivery was desolate and stirring, as though he were reliving the glory days of iron hooves and flying flags from his youth. Each time he finished singing, he would stare blankly into the far distance.
"Yan, my boy… why do I feel so burning hot? I want something cold to eat…"
The moment Li Yan heard those words, tears spilled from his eyes. Forcing back his grief, he smiled. "Grandpa, wanting some ice is easy enough. Just wait, I'll fetch it for you."
Using saltpeter to make ice was nothing extraordinary; it was a well-known trick in the jianghu.
Li Yan prepared a bowl of crushed ice and mixed in some maltose syrup.
The old man ate heartily, then turned to look at him with lingering reluctance.
"Boy… once I'm gone, I fear you'll have to walk your father's path. It's all fate; your grandpa can't hold you back. But there are a few words you must remember."
"Tell me, Grandpa," Li Yan said, already kneeling on the ground, weeping uncontrollably.
The old man looked out toward the distant horizon, his voice raspy and weathered.
"Boy, from now on, you'll be on your own. Remember this…"
"Better to be hated than to be pitied!"
"Better to be feared than to be bullied!"
Chapter 29