The caravan slowly rolled into the village, and the heavy wagons clustered together in the village square.
Several drivers found a designated spot to tend to the draft horses. These animals were the carting firm's most valuable assets; what they ate and used was, in fact, treated with far greater delicacy than the men themselves.
The village had only twenty-odd households and a little over a hundred people, with no dedicated inns or taverns. Only two households offered food and lodging to accommodate traveling merchants.
With the drivers included, their caravan numbered a full twenty people. The village was simply too small to accommodate them all. The villagers held great respect for Daoists and recognized Zhou Wuji, so they went out of their way to clear two sets of spare rooms for the Daoists to rest.
One set consisted of three tiled rooms: Zhou Wuji and Wuzheng shared one room, while Wuming shared another with her senior martial sister.
Wuming's senior sister, Wuye, was in her thirties, plain of feature, and cautious and meticulous in her work. Zhou Wuji thought well of Wuye. At the very least, she had not bossed him around or interfered when Wuming bantered and joked with him; she clearly knew how to conduct herself.
With the few of them settled, the remaining Daoists had no choice but to squeeze together. Fortunately, it was only the tenth month. The weather was neither cold nor hot, and having a roof to block the wind was enough for a good night's sleep.
Once Zhou Wuji and the others were settled, villagers came forward with tea and food, taking the opportunity to pray for talismans and blessings. Wuzheng and the other Daoists were well accustomed to this routine and handled it with ease. As for the village women and children, Wuye distributed talismans to them, offering auspicious words about the Heavenly Emperor bestowing blessings. While such blessings naturally possessed no real power, they satisfied the spiritual needs of the villagers and brought them great comfort.
Taking advantage of some free time, Zhou Wuji took a stroll around the front and back of the village. In the past, he had always traveled with his master and had no need to worry much about safety. That was no longer the case. The closer he got to Siming County, the more cautious he had to be. It was true that Wuzheng was an ordained seventh-rank Daoist, but if he were truly pitted against a seventh-rank martial artist, he likely would not fare well. Zhou Wuji's main goal was to familiarize himself with the terrain so that if trouble did arise, he would know where to run.
Just then, another caravan entered the village.
Ten heavy wagons in total, laden with hemp sacks that appeared to be filled with grain.
Zhou Wuji glanced over from a distance and recognized the man leading the caravan as a steward of the Zhang family grain shop named Zhang Yuan. He was lean, wore an eight-character mustache, and possessed a shrewd, mercenary air.
He understood at once. This was the Zhang family's grain transport convoy. Departing from Siming County, yet arriving at Laocang Village this late—the caravan was moving remarkably slow!
Zhou Wuji already disliked Zhang Yuan's philistine nature, and since he had forged a blood feud with the Zhang family, he naturally had no intention of greeting him.
Zhang Yuan did not have eyes as sharp as Zhou Wuji's; he failed to spot Zhou Wuji and only saw several large carts parked in the village. He sent someone over to inquire, only to learn that they were Daoists from the Yunyang City Lower Court, heading for Canglong Temple.
Zhang Yuan naturally did not dare show disrespect toward Wuming and the others. The village was simply too small to free up any rooms, so he could only have his caravan encircle into a perimeter, laying out mats inside to sleep in the open. Fortunately, the weather was clear, so roughing it for a night was no great trouble.
Sensible as ever, Zhang Yuan took the initiative to pay Wuzheng a visit and even presented two tins of tea leaves. Leading a convoy to transport grain, he had only brought along his favored tea. Using it as a gift was passable enough, considering the two parties had shared no prior dealings.
Giving the gift was an expression of humility. Zhang Yuan mainly wanted to test the waters; after all, Wuzheng hailed from the lower court, and he wondered how the lower court intended to deal with Zhou Wuji. Zhou Wuji had killed their eldest young master, and the family head was in a fury, publicly announcing that whoever killed Zhou Wuji would be rewarded with a hundred liang of gold!
Wuzheng possessed an upright temperament and disliked social pleasantries, looking down all the more on the slick Zhang Yuan. In just a couple of sentences, he dismissed him.
Once Zhang Yuan left, Zhou Wuji walked out from the bedroom and said to Wuzheng, "Senior Brother, I feel something isn't right."
Wuzheng asked with a solemn expression, "What's wrong?"
After the previous night's battle, Wuzheng had gained a measure of respect for Zhou Wuji—respect reserved for an expert!
"Senior Brother, you don't know Zhang Xinhu. The man is unyielding and domineering. Since we traveled all this way, he must have already received word of my return." Knowing Wuzheng was unfamiliar with local circumstances, Zhou Wuji patiently analyzed: "Siming County is only fifty-odd li from Laocang Village. There is no reason for the Zhang family's grain convoy to stop here."
Wuzheng remained somewhat puzzled. "Are you saying Zhang Xinhu deliberately sent the caravan here to cross paths with us? What purpose would that serve? Are there experts concealed within the convoy?"
"There shouldn't be. Siming County is not small, but seventh-rank martial artists can be counted on one hand." Zhou Wuji shook his head. No matter how much Zhang Xinhu hated him, he surely wouldn't dare launch an open assault on Daoists of the lower court.
Laocang Village belonged to the Li family. This area had vast groves of litsea trees and served as an important harvesting ground for litsea cubeba, making it very significant to the Li family as well. With so many of them, plus over a hundred villagers, letting even a single person escape would spell utter disaster and the extermination of his entire clan. If something truly happened in Laocang Village, the Li family wouldn't let the matter rest either.
If Zhang Xinhu truly wished to strike in Laocang Village, he would inevitably employ outsiders so he could wash his hands clean afterward.
Zhou Wuji calculated the various factions of Siming County in his mind. The strongest were naturally the prominent clans, but none of the other clans would help Zhang Xinhu slaughter members of the lower court. Even if the Fang family bore him hatred, they lacked the guts, let alone the strength.
There was also the garrison post under the Pacification Bureau in the county, which housed a seventh-rank expert. Although the Pacification Bureau was an imperial organization, it specialized in doing dirty work. As long as the money was sufficient, those people dared to do anything. Still, Zhang Xinhu likely lacked the audacity to collude with those cannibals who devoured flesh without spitting out bones...
Aside from them, there were only the cultists of the Yin-Yang Dao, who went around chanting and muttering. The Yin-Yang Dao was not a Daoist sect, but an underground cult. Its doctrines were wicked and heterodox, and its followers frequently gathered mobs to instigate rebellions. Deemed a demonic cult by the imperial court, it faced severe crackdowns everywhere. Even so, the Yin-Yang Dao still commanded a vast following among the common folk at the bottom of society, making it a force that could not be underestimated.
Zhou Wuji knew that none of the prominent clans in the county were clean; in secret, they all maintained ties with bandits and Yin-Yang Dao cultists. Zhang Xinhu finding some Yin-Yang Dao lunatics to kill them was actually quite plausible.
The problem was that while the Yin-Yang Dao followers were madmen, their combat strength was lacking.
Could Zhang Xinhu have hired a seventh-rank expert from elsewhere? Money could make the devil turn the millstone. Among seventh-rank martial artists, many roamed the jianghu. If one was willing to spend the coin, hiring one shouldn't be overly difficult. The difficulty lay in locating someone in such a short time and striking in Laocang Village.
For the moment, Zhou Wuji could not discern Zhang Xinhu's methods, but his gut told him something was wrong. The grain convoy had arrived far too coincidentally!
He also knew that words alone held little weight, making it hard to convince Wuzheng. Yet this was a matter concerning everyone's life and death; he had to give Wuzheng a warning.
Seeing that Zhou Wuji could not offer concrete reasoning, Wuzheng couldn't help but frown slightly. He could understand Zhou Wuji's wariness toward Zhang Xinhu, but raising such a solemn alarm merely over crossing paths with the Zhang family's grain caravan seemed a bit like making a mountain out of a molehill. They were Daoists from the lower court; how much courage could Zhang Xinhu possibly possess to scheme against them?
Still, Wuzheng had witnessed Zhou Wuji's swordsmanship the previous night, and Zhou Wuji had saved Junior Sister Wuming, so he held Zhou Wuji in high regard. After a moment's contemplation, he said, "When life and death are on the line, we truly cannot be careless. I'll speak to the others and have them keep night watch in pairs. We must not be negligent..."
"Senior Brother is experienced and prudent. This arrangement is sound," Zhou Wuji agreed with a nod. He knew Wuzheng was not truly convinced by his judgment, but having no solid evidence, pressing further would be pointless and would only strain his rapport with Wuzheng.
Stepping out of the room, Zhou Wuji first sought out Wuming, reminding her not to sleep too deeply tonight and advising that she and Wuye take turns keeping watch.
Wuming's beautiful, bright eyes rolled with confusion. "Could there be danger?" she asked.
"Hard to say. It's always better to be cautious." Zhou Wuji asked, "Aside from the Northern Culmen Heavenly Dipper Divine Talisman, do you have any other protective magical treasures?"
"None beyond that." Wuming shook her head, then added with a touch of pride, "But I'm proficient with White Brow Needles."
As she spoke, she extended her pale hand, upon which rested two silver needles, two inches long and as thin as fine hairs. Before Zhou Wuji's eyes, her hand flicked, sending the two silver needles into the wooden door seven paces away. The silver needles were so fine that penetrating an inch into the wood made virtually no sound.
Zhou Wuji was slightly surprised. For weightless silver needles to be hurled so far with such piercing force was indeed impressive. However, the lethality of such silver needles was too low. Unless they struck an opponent's eye, landing on almost any other spot would inflict negligible substantive damage. In a life-or-death battle, loosing such needles would merely enrage the enemy.
Though that was what he thought, he still offered a few compliments, which delighted Wuming so much that laughter danced in her bright eyes.
Zhou Wuji said no more. Wuming had grown up in the lower court, living an easy and comfortable life without ever experiencing the cruelty and terror of the jianghu. Saying too much to her would be futile.
He circled the front and back of the quarters, setting up a few arrangements.
Returning to the quarters, while Wuzheng rested in the eastern bedroom, Zhou Wuji sat down on a bamboo chair in the outer room and checked the talismans, steel balls, and Yin Thunder Beads on his person. Unfortunately, he had no finely ground flour, which deprived him of a lethal trump card. With his current swordsmanship and Fire Bell Incantation, triggering a dust explosion could give him a chance to slay even a seventh-rank martial artist.
Zhou Wuji rested his sword horizontally across his knees, swallowed an inedia pill, and quietly circulated his qi to regulate his breathing. Regardless of whether anything happened tonight, being prepared was never a mistake.
Outside the village, within the litsea cubeba grove, a band of mutinous soldiers clad in armor had already arrived. At their head was Wang Jing, clad in full steel lamellar armor and holding a five-foot goose-quill saber, looking coldly down upon Laocang Village below.
Gazing down from the hillside, the houses loomed indistinctly through the darkness, the most conspicuous feature being the bonfire blazing in the center of the village.
Wang Jing watched in silence for a time before two soldiers clad in lamellar armor trotted over. Both habitually dropped to one knee and cupped their hands in salute, one reporting, "Battalion Commander, the caravan steward has arrived."
Zhang Yuan bowed and scurried forward with a fawning smile. "General..."
Wang Jing pursed his lips, not bothering to correct the man's improper title. He asked coldly, "Where are Zhou Wuji and that seventh-rank Daoist staying?"
"In the courtyard directly facing their caravan. Three rooms. I didn't see Zhou Wuji, but I assume he is inside as well..." Having used the gift-giving as an opportunity to survey the layout carefully, Zhang Yuan described it in considerable detail. Fearing his verbal description was not clear enough, he even used a piece of charcoal to sketch a simple map.
Looking over the map, Wang Jing nodded in satisfaction and instructed his subordinates, "Qian Yong and I will each lead a team to pincer that seventh-rank Daoist from front and back. In addition, dispatch five men with bows to block the exits out of the village. Not a single living soul is to escape!"
The soldiers chorused their acknowledgment.
Squad Leader Qian Yong asked in a low voice, "Battalion Commander, what about the Zhang family's caravan?"
Wang Jing sneered. "We'll do Zhang Xinhu a favor—slaughter them all together!"
Nearby, Zhang Yuan heard every word clearly. His face turned deathly pale, and just as he opened his mouth to speak, Wang Jing swept his five-foot goose-quill saber in a horizontal slash, sending Zhang Yuan's head flying.
Kicking away Zhang Yuan's headless corpse, Wang Jing addressed the assembled soldiers: "There are women in the village. Once we butcher the Daoists and the Zhang caravan, the brothers can have some fun in the village..."
At those words, the mutinous soldiers shouted their agreement once more in bloodthirsty excitement.
Chapter 26