Bonfires were built and meat was roasted; the territory of the Jiana tribe once again brimmed with human warmth.
Just then, Dong Rui emerged from the Demon Nest. With a mop of disheveled hair, he followed the voices over, sitting down by the fire and vigorously rubbing his hands together.
He had put his woven grass mask back on, so his appearance did not frighten anyone. Still, Tu Zhongli noticed a new face by the fire and frowned. "And who might this be?"
*What are you acting so impatient for?* He Lingchuan thought. *This isn't your turf.* Aloud, he said, "An apothecary who was swept into the swamp with me. Zhu Erniang wants him to concoct some medicines."
"Where are you two from?"
"The Yuan Kingdom."
Tu Zhongli started. "That far?"
One of his men sitting nearby chuckled as he tore into a piece of fish. "I heard folks in the Yuan Kingdom can barely feed themselves these days. Is that true?"
He Lingchuan gave him a sideways glance. "Where did you hear that?"
"Ah, I have relatives living in Xunzhou. They said people are starving to death, yet the royal court keeps piling on taxes, desperate to dig three feet into the ground just to scrape up copper coins. Left with no other choice, the Governor of Xunzhou rebelled."
He Lingchuan said coldly, "The Governor of Xunzhou didn't rebel for so simple a reason."
"Oh?" Curiosity stirred among the men. Tu Zhongli took a swig of wine. "Tell us about it."
"Where are all of you from?"
"The Xing Kingdom."
He Lingchuan calculated silently. The Xing Kingdom was a small realm along a lower tributary of the Han River, not even a tenth the size of the Yuan Kingdom. More importantly, it lay east of Demon Nest Swamp, several hundred li from the borders of the Yuan Kingdom.
Word was that the route was fraught with precipitous peaks and ridges; retracing one's steps would be exceedingly difficult.
With Tu Zhongli and the others urging him on, He Lingchuan picked a few current events from the Yuan Kingdom to recount.
To men of the Xing Kingdom, these were firsthand accounts, fresh and gripping. Tu Zhongli clicked his tongue. "Sounds like a prime opportunity to make one's mark and win glory."
As He Lingchuan observed them, he noticed the travelers were clearly split into two distinct factions. One was led by Tu Zhongli—feasting heartily on meat and wine, talking and laughing without inhibition. The other sat quietly by the fire, barely touching their food, their eyes darting about as though afraid to meet anyone's gaze.
Among the latter group was Manager Zhao.
Just then, a snack was brought over—plump grubs that the hospitable spiders had dug out of rotting wood.
These fat, pale bugs were pure, natural nourishment. Popped into the mouth and bitten down upon, they burst with rich juices. Exceptionally nutritious, they were a godsend keenly sought after by anyone surviving in the wild.
The grubs still wriggled atop the round leaves, flaunting their freshness. Having stayed here for the better part of a month, He Lingchuan and Dong Rui had long grown accustomed to them, but Manager Zhao turned pale at the sight and waved his hands in refusal.
Tu Zhongli and his men, on the other hand, scooped them up and ate them one by one, even praising the flavor.
Watching this, He Lingchuan sank into thought.
Dong Rui yawned repeatedly beside the fire, casually grabbing a few grubs to chew on. He Lingchuan leaned in and asked, "Any progress?"
"No real progress, though I did find that the toxins on Zhu Erniang are quite useful..." Dong Rui lowered his voice. "Are these bandits in cahoots with Zhu Erniang?"
He Lingchuan's gaze shifted. "You can tell they're bandits?"
"I've dealt with eight to ten thousand bandits and cutthroats in my life. Men like that carry a stench—I can smell it right off them."
That made sense. The fellow had an unusual background: aside from being an obsessive researcher, he was also a fugitive wanted for years, with countless dealings among the dregs of society.
At that moment, Manager Zhao clutched his stomach and struggled to his feet, heading toward the deep grass to relieve himself. Some of the food tonight had been charred, some raw, and some half-cooked; his stomach couldn't handle it.
He Lingchuan said, "Let me go verify." With that, he dusted off his rear, stood up, and followed.
Manager Zhao had just found a shadowy spot by the water and was about to untie his trousers to squat down when he heard He Lingchuan say from behind, "Not a good spot. There are plenty of crocodiles near the water. Be careful not to lose half your backside."
Manager Zhao jumped in fright, hastily stammered an acknowledgment, and moved to another spot.
Seeing He Lingchuan still trailing him, he couldn't help asking, "Mr. He, is something the matter?"
Before He Lingchuan could reply, one of Tu Zhongli's men came over and asked, "What are you two doing?"
"Taking a dump," He Lingchuan answered first. "There's an open spot here. Want it?"
"Shitting together? Aren't you afraid of the stench?"
He Lingchuan pointed beside the man. "There's a fire ant nest right there. You dare squat over that?"
The man quickly dodged away.
He Lingchuan strolled elsewhere for a bit before wandering back to inspect the wagons.
Illuminated by a multitude of fluorescent spores, the entire clearing was bright as day. Spiders were moving back and forth from the Demon Nest, carrying goods out trip after trip and loading them onto the wagons.
The caravan brought salty clay and sundry goods here, so on their return trip, they naturally had to load up on local specialties from Demon Nest Swamp to fetch a handsome price back home.
A merchant's wagon never travels empty.
Watching the specialties the burrow spiders hauled out, He Lingchuan was dazzled.
First of all, bolt after bolt of spider silk—a sought-after hard currency in the outside world.
The burrow spider demons produced three or four varieties of silk. Even the most common kind possessed astounding stickiness; for setting traps or catching fish, it was countless times better than ordinary netting. A higher grade had less stickiness but superior elasticity and tensile strength—ideal for crafting gloves and soft armor that were light, sturdy, and impervious to fire and water.
Naturally, the rarest top-tier silk could be used to forge magic artifacts. In particular, the cloud brocade woven by Zhu Erniang herself couldn't be breached even by high-powered firebombs; He Lingchuan had tested it firsthand.
The spiders also brought out all manner of dried medicinal herbs and insects. A swamp untouched by humans was a natural treasure trove, yielding aged, highly potent herbs. Even the dried eggshells of aphid cattle served as medicine; when decocted and taken by women after childbirth, they stimulated milk production.
The fungal carpet within the Demon Nest also harbored diverse varieties of mushrooms. Among them was the hallucinatory mushroom, an item Tu Zhongli's uncle had always made a priority to purchase in bulk.
This mushroom was mildly toxic. After just a few bites, a person would feel light and euphoric as though floating among the clouds, prone to all sorts of hallucinations—visions of things meant to be seen and things that weren't.
Crucially, it carried no other side effects and was non-addictive; at most, eating a whole pot might cause diarrhea or leave one's head feeling slightly groggy the next day, much like a hangover.
Needless to say, such an item was immensely popular on the outside, with humans and demons alike willing to spend money on the pleasure it brought.
He Lingchuan had not expected that even the fluorescent spores could be sold.
These plump, round spores looked slightly smaller than steamed buns, but once dehydrated, their volume shrank to a third of their original size and they ceased glowing, making them quite easy to transport.
Soaked in water, they would swell back up and continue emitting light for around four months even detached from the fungal carpet.
This was vastly superior to candles and oil lamps, and as a steady, cool white illumination, it was an exceptional source of continuous nighttime light.
People would surely love them; it all came down to how the caravan priced them back home.
In less than two hours, all forty wagons were packed to the brim.
Seeing this, He Lingchuan understood: Zhu Erniang's wealth in Demon Nest Swamp was truly unmatched!
She managed her enterprise so conscientiously that she made the swamp's other wild native demons look like penniless paupers. No wonder they were green with envy. It was just like being the village beggar, struggling to find your next meal, while the rich heir next door feasted on fish and meat every day, rich savory aromas wafting right into your shack—how could you not harbor other thoughts?
He Lingchuan didn't need to tally the ledgers to know that Tu Zhongli had struck it rich.
Provided, of course, that he was actually a merchant.
Dong Rui walked up from behind and clicked his tongue. "Trading clay for specialty goods—this caravan sure knows how to do business."
He Lingchuan smiled. "Caravan? Where's the caravan?" Having already concluded the man was a bandit, he knew the caravan's true master—Tu Zhongli's "uncle"—had likely met with foul play.
Watching the nearby spiders scuttle away, Dong Rui lowered his voice. "What do you plan to do? Which side do you want to back?"
Bandits impersonating a caravan to enter the swamp and continue trading with burrow spiders just to earn a bit of profit on cargo? Even someone with the brain of Number Thirty-Four would know that was impossible.
Once the deadline expired, if Dong Rui couldn't produce the concoction Zhu Erniang demanded, he would likely face death. Over the past few days, his own research had made new headway, clearing his head and leading him to plot his future.
He Lingchuan smiled. "What about you?"
"Those bandits might hold some token that could get us out of the swamp."
"You should think about why they came in here in the first place," He Lingchuan said. "Do they really think they can sponge off a great demon like Zhu Erniang?"
This was still the burrow spiders' territory; taking advantage of Zhu Erniang would not be easy. Furthermore, from chatting with the men earlier, they knew Demon Nest Swamp bore an infamous reputation outside, scarcely better than a dragon's pool or tiger's den. Virtually no one who strayed inside ever came out alive; it was known as a "demon den."
For this band of brigands to dare enter and plot against the local ruler—they couldn't have completely lost their minds, could they?
"They must have worked out a plan already."
Before the two could exchange more than a few words, one of Tu Zhongli's men left the campfire and walked toward them. He Lingchuan had heard Tu Zhongli call him Huangmao earlier, likely because his hair was sparse and yellowish.
Huangmao stopped beside them. "Boss sent me to ask if you want to leave the swamp with us."
Dangling bait to force them to pick a side right off the bat?
Dong Rui said, "Of course."
"Then sit obediently by the fire. Keep your mouths shut and don't stir up trouble." Tu Zhongli had also caught wind of He Lingchuan trying to approach Manager Zhao.
Their original plan never accounted for two living humans suddenly appearing in the burrow spiders' lair, neither of whom looked like simple, gullible folks.
At this crucial juncture, they didn't want variables.
He Lingchuan asked, "When do we leave, then?"
"Soon. Uh, probably tomorrow morning." Huangmao pointed toward the campfire. "Go on, get seated."
He Lingchuan cast an eye over him, then suddenly pointed at the bamboo tube at his waist. "That blowpipe—I feel like I've seen it somewhere before."
Half an arm's length, mottled bamboo, bound with thin hemp cord.
Right—some of the floating corpses that drifted into the swamp days ago had carried blowpipe tubes just like this.
Huangmao's expression changed.
Just then, a spider guardian scampered over and said to Dong Rui, "You've been out too long! The Old Ancestor summons you back to the nest to work!"
Clearly, Zhu Erniang was also concerned that these sly humans gathering together might give Dong Rui an opportunity to slip away.
As for He Lingchuan, an idle freeloader, she didn't care much about him.
Chapter 335