The village remained peaceful as the sun rose once more. The morning breeze not only carried the cold wind but also the murmurs of villagers gossiping about the wounded cultivator who had stumbled upon their village.
The village chief stood outside Granny Xiu's medicinal hut, his trembling hands firmly grasping the top of his wooden cane.
"Village chief, I am worried about the injured immortal," one of his bodyguards whispered from the side, "I feel that the village will be in trouble due to his presence."
He was worried that Lingyuan Zhentian's recent battle didn't go well. If the enemy was still alive, what if they decided to deal with Caojing Village for helping Lingyuan Zhentian?
"Are you a fool?" The village chief berated, "We'd be more in trouble if this cultivator dies! Do you not know of Tian Ming Ling?!"
"Tian Ming Ling?" The two bodyguards were startled, recalling that Lingyuan Zhentian described himself as someone from that faction.
"It is the inspection body created by the great sects to hunt down evil cultivators and bring them to justice," the chief explained with forced confidence. "If one of their Lingyuan dies in our village, even nine generations of slavery won't wash away our guilt."
Their expressions fell, and they quickly understood the weight of their current situation.
"What we should fear is the evil cultivator that this immortal has fought." The village chief solemnly bowed his head in contemplation. "I can only pray Old Xiu manages to keep him alive..."
A raspy voice interrupted, followed by an ethereal figure draped in a blood-soaked gray robe walking out, "You need not worry about that."
"Ah, Daoist Lingyuan Zhentian!" The three knelt in reverence, their bodies wavering under the immense qi pressure.
"You can be at ease with me," he waved his hands and approached the village chief, "Your herbalist's skills were remarkable. She is resting now and does not wish to be disturbed."
The chief swallowed hard and bowed lower, though a faint shiver passed through him.
"Ah, is that so, Daoist Lingyuan. Then this one is relieved," the village chief exhaled, as if a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulders. "Since the immortal has recovered, then may this lesser being be able to know of your plans, Daoist Lingyuan?"
"My enemy is an evil cultivator of great power. Your village's assistance could prove to be timely." Lingyuan Zhentian clasped his hands behind him, his beard fluttering lightly under the cold breeze.
"This village chief will follow Daoist Lingyuan's arrangements," the village chief bowed.
"Good, that would be the best if everyone follows," Lingyuan Zhentian nodded, "Take these protective talismans, and hand them over to your subordinates."
He handed several stacks of talismans from his sleeves. The yellowish paper felt smooth and warm to the touch, a refreshing feeling tugging at the village chief's hand as he received it.
He clutched the stack close to his chest as though it weighed far more than the books in his study.
"Place one on every gate and door," Lingyuan Zhentian ordered, "No evil will breach them while I remain here to recuperate. However, its protection is limited within the village. Anyone who goes outside might be prey to the evil cultivator's claws."
The village elder and his two bodyguards bowed deeply, "We thank Daoist Lingyuan Zhentian for his magnanimity toward us. On behalf of Caojing Village, we offer our deepest gratitude to you."
Lingyuan Zhentian waved his hand, "If you want to be grateful to this Daoist, then do as I say."
The village chief bowed once more before hurrying away to announce Lingyuan Zhentian's talisman placements.
By midday, the talismans had been passed from household to household. Wei Han pressed one above their doorway with careful reverence, muttering thanks under his breath.
Wei Shun only frowned. To him, it was nothing more than a slip of paper — flimsy against the kind of monster that had left a cultivator half-dead at their gates.
...
Three days passed. The village remained calm as the talismans fluttered on every gate. Still, whispers of the evil cultivator's presence lingered around the village like a plague.
Some even rumored that the merchant caravan was probably attacked by it, resulting in an unusual absence of several days. In fact, many already held no hope that the annual merchant caravan would be able to arrive in their village anytime soon.
For Wei Shun, the days only sharpened his hunger. Martial practices and stances burned through his strength, forcing him to wolf down bowls faster than his mother could fill them. By the third day, the family's meat had already run dry.
"Shun'er, you don't have to practice martial arts for a few days!" Yan Lan worriedly held her son's hands, "We can make do with the vegetables. Mother will make them more delicious for you."
Wei Shun shook his head and slowly pulled his mother's hand away.
"And what if the vegetables run out, mother? Who do we ask?" Wei Shun clenched his fist, "They might give us a few for the first time out of respect for father, but the second, the third, the fourth? Mother, I can only eat so much before the village runs out of food, and of patience. I do not want you or father to feel burdened because of me!"
He snorted and walked out of their house, having already made his point. With a quiver, several arrows, a short dagger, and a bow in tow, he headed towards the village's nearest exit.
However, Yan Lan chased after him, almost losing her bearings on the way to the door.
"But Shun'er, the village chief told us not to go out! The evil cultivator is lurking around. What if something happens to you?"
Wei Shun smirked without turning his back, "Then so be it, mother. That will be my destiny!"
Yan Lan still couldn't let go of her worries, clutching her tightening chest. Wei Han held her firmly, supporting her weakened body.
"Husband, Shun'er..."
"He will be alright." Wei Han stared at Wei Shun's departing figure, feeling exhausted about the recent events.
...
Wei Shun tightened the straps on his bow and stepped beyond the village gates. Though murmurs still flooded his ears, he noticed that the village was a little sparse today.
The streets were quiet with doors and windows shut tight. Perhaps Lingyuan Zhentian's warning had driven everyone to cower indoors, or maybe it was something else.
Wei Shun couldn't grasp what was going on and soon put it at the back of his mind. He focused on the familiar path before him, ignoring the strangeness of his surroundings.
His eyes caught sight of the fluttering talisman above the doorway.
Was it this bright when I saw it?
To him, it looked no different from a dried leaf clinging to the wood. He even found it less entertaining than those leaves. Just that, it was a little too different than when his father placed it on their door.
Maybe I'm imagining things. Damn it, I need to find meat as soon as I can!
The forest greeted him with the familiar darkness and fresh air, breathable than the city he lived in his past life. He crouched low, following faint tracks of boar across the soil. He steadied his breath and sharpened his mind, readying himself for the hunt.
Each stance and movement reflected the skills he had endured and trained for years.
After an hour, the sky dimmed. Clouds rolled across the horizon, almost veiling the sun. Dusk came sooner than Wei Shun had expected, causing him to frown.
Not long after, he found a broken trail of branches and fresh mud, signs of something heavy moving through.
In a small clearing up ahead, Wei Shun caught sight of a boar grazing merrily on the grass. Seeing the boar distracted on its feet, he nocked an arrow and aimed.
With a slight nudge, the arrow whooshed through the air, striking the neck directly. Blood oozed out, and the boar thrashed wildly in pain, hitting the trees until its head drooped down and it fell.
"Whew..." Wei Shun let out a long breath and prepared to stand up. Just as he did so, he saw dark stains smeared across the roots of a tree.
Blood, still wet.
Is this the boar's blood?
He remembered that the boar had been thrashing only at the far side, yet had never stepped near this spot.
At that moment, a shadow moved deeper among the trees, causing the leaves to rustle in distress. The figure was draped in tattered crimson robes, its back hunched, dragging a long, rust-colored blade across the ground.
The air itself felt heavy, filled with bloodshed and trailing voices of the dead. Wei Shun froze in place, his bow half-raised as he slowly succumbed to the dreading aura of evil. He wanted to aim, yet his instincts told him not to, and his body shouted it cannot do so.
What... what is this oppressive feeling? Who is it? The evil cultivator?!
His eyes locked onto that silhouette, tensing his muscles in fear that it would strike him.
Suddenly, the figure turned towards the direction of the village. He sprang up into the air, voice hoarse, dripping with malice.
"Lingyuan dog. I, Mo Fengtian, have come to claim your worthless head today! Cower in your beloved talismans if you wish, but that changes nothing before this seat!"
His thunderous voice broke through like a command from the heavens, scattering the birds and animals away from the forest.
Above the village gates, the yellow talismans pulsed faintly with light, as if swallowing the shout into silence.
Yet the village beyond the trees remained eerily still. Doors remained closed, and windows looked as if they were stuck. Above each gate and household, the yellow talismans pulsed faintly, swallowing the echoes into silence.
It was as if the villagers had never heard him, Mo Fengtian, shout in the first place.