Chapter 1

In the secluded Fenghua Valley, it was the height of summer, with lush greenery stretching far and wide, the scenery like a painting.

On the eastern side of the valley, there was a courtyard surrounded by bamboo groves, the Qi Family Ancestral Hall.

About two or three miles to the west, on a hillside, stood several dozen households, forming the village of Qi Family.

That afternoon, the weather was rather sultry, with not a breath of wind, and the quiet valley seemed to be dozing off.

"Creak—"

At this moment, the originally quiet ancestral hall suddenly had its doors flung wide open, and someone rushed out with a child, shouting, "Little brat, not only did you not listen to the lesson, but you also dared to cause trouble. Time for the ruler!"

The man, who called himself a teacher, was a young scholar in his early twenties, with his hair tied up, wearing a blue robe, a thin face, arched eyebrows, a straight nose, and sharp eyes. His fair skin should have made him look refined, but at this moment, he looked furious and exasperated. The child, about six or seven years old, with a tiger-like head and three spiky braids, was being held by the ear but refused to submit, baring his teeth and shouting, "Ouch, if the teacher dares to hit me, I'll go tell my grandfather..."

In a flash, four or five more children ran out of the door, all grinning mischievously.

The scholar's right hand held a ruler, which he raised high, and he shouted angrily, "Go ahead and tell! If I can't deal with you, I'll pack my bags and leave..." He grabbed the child's small hand to punish him, but the little one was quite clever and suddenly lifted his arm. A red light suddenly shot out.

It was a small snake, about a foot long, covered in fierce flames, appearing suddenly and startlingly!

The scholar was startled and quickly dodged, throwing the ruler away in a panic.

The child whistled, and the small snake spun in the air, like a flash of fire, and instantly disappeared into his sleeve! He smiled triumphantly and ran away. The other children followed, laughing and playing, leaving the scholar alone, rubbing his hands, looking utterly helpless.

A laugh came from nearby, "Ha ha! Mountain children, fearless, treating the Red Flame Snake as a toy..."

The scholar, feeling depressed, glared, "Qi Sanren, don't gloat!"

At the entrance of the ancestral hall, a man appeared, middle-aged, with gray hair and a thin face, wearing an old Taoist robe. He leaned on a cane, shook his head, and said disdainfully, "As a teacher, you should adapt to your students and guide them patiently! With your irritable temper, you're not the kind of person who can live a simple life. To be frank, why make things hard for yourself!"

The scholar, feeling exposed, quickly defended himself, "It's not easy for me to earn a living, we're all in the same boat..."

The old man was surnamed Qi, named Buxiang, and called himself a hermit. He was said to be a wandering Taoist, skilled in medicine and divination, and because he shared the same surname as the villagers of Qi Family, he was given the job of guarding the ancestral hall. The scholar, also a wanderer with nowhere to go, was taken in by the village to be a teacher, and thus had to deal with a few mischievous children every day. The two had similar circumstances and should have been sympathetic to each other, but since they met, they had been mutually disapproving.

However, halfway through his words, the figure at the door disappeared.

The scholar grunted, turned to pick up the ruler, and reluctantly looked back before slowly walking into the hall.

The temporary noise subsided, and the surroundings returned to silence.

The main hall of the ancestral hall, facing the courtyard gate, contained several tables and served as the village school. The two eastern rooms and the kitchen were where the scholar and Qi Sanren ate and slept. Near the kitchen, an ancient tree provided shade, its branches swaying with the constant chirping of cicadas. In the corner of the courtyard, a few clusters of fresh flowers added color. The secluded place was peaceful and comfortable, and even in the sultry season, it was full of life.

Behind the ancestral hall was a small courtyard with a side gate leading to the hill outside.

The scholar passed the kitchen and saw Qi Sanren busy preparing dinner. He looked down and muttered to himself.

Every day, it was either wild vegetable soup or wild vegetable pancakes, so frugal that it was truly unbearable. However, the teacher's salary was meager, and despite his dissatisfaction, he had to endure it. The only consolation was that by sharing meals with Qi Sanren, he saved himself the trouble of cooking.

The scholar wanted to complain but suddenly felt raindrops. The weather in the mountains was unpredictable, and it was the rainy season. He passed by Qi Sanren's room and returned to his own.

The room was sparsely furnished, with only a wooden bed, a table, and chairs. On one side of the wall hung a short sword in a scabbard, about a foot long, but rusty and unremarkable.

The scholar entered the room and fell onto the bed. His gaze inadvertently swept over the short sword, and he suddenly felt restless, so he closed his eyes and silently pondered...

Unconsciously, he had been wandering for more than two years. His former enthusiasm had long since faded. When he arrived at Fenghua Valley, his funds were almost depleted. Now, he had to pretend to be a scholar and muddle through each day. He didn't know what the future held...

The rain grew heavier, and the sky grew darker.

A familiar voice called from outside, "Mr. Wu, dinner is ready..."

The scholar didn't respond, lazily got up, and walked through the eaves into Qi Sanren's room. A small table was set with bowls and chopsticks, a bowl of soup, and four vegetable pancakes. He sat on a stool, picked up a pancake, and took a bite, then raised a bitter face and chewed listlessly.

Qi Sanren sat opposite him, picked up a spoon, and served two bowls of soup, saying discontentedly, "To have food served to you, you should be grateful. Don't think I have to serve you; you're young and shouldn't risk shortening your life..."

The scholar didn't think much about it, drank the soup in one go, and then took half a pancake and turned to leave. As he reached the door, he felt the taste in his mouth was bitter and couldn't help but complain, "I'm fine, I don't need your medicine..."

In the room, only Qi Sanren remained. In the dim light, he looked lonely and dejected, his eyes dull, but he slowly stroked his beard and said softly, "This is made from nine-leaf grass, rehmannia, ginseng, polygonum, and wolfberry, with nourishing and strengthening effects! Mr. Wu, you can only blame your mortal eyes for not recognizing its benefits..."

Wu, the scholar's name.

The scholar returned to his room, closed the door, and didn't light a lamp. He hastily ate the pancake, kicked off his shoes, and lay on the bed, facing the ceiling.

In the two months since he came to Qi Family Village, although life was hard, he could still eat and sleep. At least he had a place to shelter from the wind and rain, and he should be content. However, after each meal, he felt a heat throughout his body, and...

He reached down and, as expected, found himself hard. Sigh, even in such a miserable and bitter time, he couldn't find peace, it was truly exhausting!

After a while of aimless thoughts, the scholar gradually fell into a dream...

In the dream, he was still in the outskirts of the capital, playing with friends.

That day, the weather was perfect. The West Lake was vast and blue, the willow banks like cotton, and the carriages and tourists were numerous, with a gentle spring breeze. Suddenly, a rider galloped along the embankment and fell to the ground, covered in blood. Before dying, he threw a short sword and shouted, "Master is in trouble, young master, run for your life..."

Another night, a group of soldiers followed. The scholar fled in panic and unexpectedly came to a cliff. At the same time, several figures rushed toward him. In the distance, more people were chasing, their sword lights flashing in the night. He punched a soldier to the ground, kicked away a spear, and spat defiantly, his face full of sorrow and helplessness, before jumping off the cliff...

The scholar, or Wu, suddenly woke up, stunned for a moment, sighed deeply, and slowly turned over to go back to sleep.

At that moment, there was a "bang, bang" sound, like distant thunder, sometimes far, sometimes near...

Wu didn't pay attention, covering his ears. But in an instant, he was startled.

The increasingly urgent sound was not thunder but the sound of someone knocking on the ancestral hall's door.

Faintly, it seemed someone was calling...

In the middle of the night, what was going on?

Fenghua Valley was remote, and few outsiders came here. The ancestral hall was isolated, usually quiet. In such a dark and rainy night, who could be disturbing them? Could it really be mountain spirits or ghosts...

"Bang, bang—"

Wu was still stunned, and the knocking on the door ring became more urgent. He was wide awake, got out of bed, and hurriedly lit an oil lamp, glancing at the table.

A glass hourglass on the table showed it was midnight.

Wu held the oil lamp and walked out, but then turned back to take the short sword from the wall, feeling a bit braver, and opened the door.

A gust of wind and rain blew in, and the lamp flickered almost out.

Wu waved his sleeve to block the wind and moved cautiously forward.

The "bang, bang" knocking became clearer, and indeed, a weak voice called, "Is anyone there..."

The person knocking was a woman?

Wu heard clearly and couldn't help but sigh in relief. Passing by the neighboring door, he whispered, "Qi Sanren..."

Qi Sanren's room was next to the kitchen, closest to the gate, and should have noticed, but there was no response. Perhaps he was old and hard of hearing and didn't hear the knocking?

The door opened, and a face appeared in the dim light. At first glance, it looked ghostly!

"Old Taoist, you're trying to scare me..."

Wu was taken aback and truly frightened, but before he could complain, he urged, "Go and see, someone is knocking..."

Qi Sanren didn't move, standing still, and slowly said, "Midnight, rainy night, the divination shows great misfortune!" He mysteriously added, "Close the door and sleep, don't meddle in other people's affairs!"

Wu was pushed back, and the door "creaked" shut. He tried to push it open, but it wouldn't budge. Surprised, he asked, "What is great misfortune..."

Perhaps sensing the light in the courtyard, the voice outside called again, "Good person, open the door! Let us sisters rest for a moment, and we will reward you!"

What! A pair of sisters, perhaps they missed their lodging and had nowhere to stay. If he closed the door, it would be cruel!

Just as this thought arose, the wind and rain intensified. The oil lamp went out, and the courtyard was pitch black.

Wu shivered, hesitating.

"Oh, sister..."

"Cough... sister, since the owner won't let us in, don't trouble them..."

A cry was followed by a weaker, more helpless voice from outside the gate. It seemed the sisters were in a desperate situation! Truly, they had nowhere to go, and the cold rain added to their sorrow. Who, when traveling, hasn't faced difficulties?

The scholar didn't think much, ran to the gate in the rain, and called out, "Ladies, please wait, I'm coming..."