“Master Zhang!” he yelled out with all his might. “We need to get out now!”
Suddenly a hole blew out from a nearby building, and Master Zhang ran out toward him at a speed not possible for qi condensation cultivators.
“What’s the matter, Cha Ming?” Master Zhang asked.
“It’s a trap, Master Zhang. If one more trigger is activated—” Cha Ming’s explanation was interrupted as a light hum sounded out. Thirteen lines were now lit, and the central rune was glowing bright red. “No time now. We triggered a trap, and this whole town is going to burn. Get everyone out of here immediately.”
With that, he held the little girl tightly with his right arm and, using a movement technique and his high physical strength, he grabbed Xiaobei with his left. She tried to free herself from his grip, only to realize that her struggles meant nothing to Cha Ming. As soon as he grabbed the two, seventy-two pearls burst out from his wrist, and he was surrounded with a blue snowflake. Mere moments after he reacted, the entire town burst into flames.
It wasn’t just the buildings that caught fire; even the air began burning violently. Fortunately, Cha Ming was able to shield the ones near him. Zhang Yifeng wasted no time and darted out toward other nearby mercenaries. He used his precise control over flames to disperse the inferno near them, and these adventurers gathered around him to save others.
Cha Ming immediately followed his example and began gathering nearby mercenaries. Fortunately, some of them cultivated water and earth arts and were able to protect themselves independently. Cha Ming ignored these people and let them flee alone.
After running for a dozen breaths, he found three cultivators who were huddled together around a single water element cultivator, who was using her qi to protect them. Her qi was wavering, and it was clear that she wouldn’t be able to hold out for long. Cha Ming quickly expanded the scope of his frozen domain and signaled for them to follow him. They all looked at him gratefully and accompanied him to collect other such groups.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t save everyone. Several times, he saw screaming cultivators that had been lit up like torches. They ran for a few brief moments before collapsing to the ground. He didn’t have time to save these people. Other times they encountered badly burned individuals that couldn’t walk anymore. These cultivators were carried off by those in the group that still had a bit of strength remaining.
Finally, they managed to escape the formation, which was a large circle that completely encapsulated the town. Their group was soon joined by Zhang Yifeng, who had rescued thirty-five cultivators. With Cha Ming’s twenty-four cultivators and the few odd people who had managed to escape on their own, a total of seventy-three cultivators had survived the trap.
The survivors looked at the burning town in silence while nursing their wounds, hoping that even one more of their companions would escape. No one did.
Chapter 22: The Girl’s Story
The flames died down the next morning. Though the air was still hot and smoky, at least it was bearable. Several dozen mercenaries set out to find if there were any lucky survivors. In the end, all they could do was bury partially burned corpses.
Meanwhile, Cha Ming assisted Master Zhang in his treatment of the little girl from the workshop cellar. Because of Cha Ming’s protection, she had not suffered any burns. However, she was severely malnourished, dehydrated, and dependent on alcohol. The last issue was not overly concerning, as Zhang Yifeng happened to have some detoxifying pills. He also fed her some nutrition pills, which quickly satiated her hunger and thirst.
“What’s your name, little girl? And why do you look so familiar? Have we met before?” the kindly man asked. The little girl was currently hugging a gourd of water. As soon as she had taken the detoxifying pill, she began crying as she recalled recent events.
“My name is Meng Xiaomei, Mimi for short. We met when I was very little. You came to visit Aunty Zhang, my father’s sister,” she replied.
The older man looked both surprised at the coincidence but glad that he had finally found one of his relatives.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier,” Zhang Yifeng said, his voice laced with regret. Han Jinlong and I have gathered a small army to rescue everyone. Can you tell me what happened?”
The little girl’s eyes were downcast as she recalled what had happened. “It all started with the bandit leader. One day, a group of twenty bandits appeared in our village without warning. Normally, in such a situation, we would hand over all of our wealth. Papa told me that it would be fine if we gave them everything, and that the lord of Fairweather County would compensate us, like always.
“Just to be safe, two other boys and I headed down to an emergency cellar. It wasn’t long before we heard screams outside. I… I don’t know what happened to them,” the little girl said while doing her best to hold back her tears.
Master Zhang wiped the tears off her cheeks and reassured her. She continued talking after taking a small gulp of water.
“We were underground for who knows how long. There was food and water there in case of an emergency, but there was only so much. We lost track of time. All I know is that the work upstairs never stopped.
“Usually my father and the other uncles in the workshop would only work ten hours a day, and they would never work at night. But while we were in the cellar, the roaring of the furnace never stopped. Every once in a while, an argument would break out.
“One day, one of the uncles had enough and started arguing and yelling. Some unfamiliar voices yelled back, and I heard a crash and the sound of breaking glass upstairs.” The little girl shivered a little before continuing. “‘You monster!’, Uncle said. And then I heard his screams. Then the man told my father and the other uncles to get back to work.
“Some time later, I woke up and heard some shouting. There were sounds of furniture, equipment, and crates being moved. The sounds lasted for what I think was a half day, and then everything was quiet. After waiting for a long time, we tried to get out, but we couldn’t figure out how to open the cellar. We had already run out of food. Soon, we ran out of water. That’s when we started drinking the alcohol in the cellar. I don’t remember much after that…” By the time she had finished recounting the story, her eyes were red, and her face was covered in tears.
“It’s going to be all right, Mimi. We’re going to save your parents,” Master Zhang said. He then turned around and addressed the female mercenary. “Xiaobei, can you please take Mimi to get cleaned up? Take her back to my tent afterward so she can get some rest.” She nodded and led Mimi away.
After the little girl left, the older man sighed and looked over to Cha Ming. “Are you a formation master?” he asked Cha Ming, his eyes full of expectation.
The younger man shook his head. “Sadly, I know nothing about formations. This is my first time seeing one. I was only able to guess what was going to happen because I recognized some runic characters that are often used when making talismans. There was a “tinder” character connected with lines in the building that I was exploring, and a line that led to the center of town. When I looked at the statue, I recognized twenty “trigger” characters and a large “inferno” character. It wasn’t difficult to guess what was going to happen,” Cha Ming finished.
The older man nodded. “A reasonable deduction. Unfortunately, alchemy is not one of the runic arts, like weaponsmithing, talisman artistry, or formation masters. I am useless in this regard, and it seems like the enemy has laid down several traps for us. Please keep your eyes peeled for any runic characters as we continue onward.
“Further, this behavior makes me uneasy. The trap killed thirty weaker cultivators and injured twenty other low-level cultivators. Why go through all this trouble only to kill a few lesser cultivators? It would have been much more effective to set a trap that could injure higher-level cultivators, or even Han Jinlong or myself. All they did was delay us while we bury people and recuperate.”
Cha Ming shook his head. “I
don’t know, either. However, perhaps this book will give us some clues on what they did while they were here?” Cha Ming pulled out the items that he had collected earlier—the notebook, the pen, the picture, the spirit stones, and some jewelry.
The older man accepted it and opened the front cover. He then sighed. “As I suspected. This is that girl’s father’s notebook. My brother-in-law’s. Let’s read through this together and see what we can find out.”
Fairweather City
It didn’t take long for Feng Ming to get fed up with his accommodations in the barracks. By the end of the first day, he had already taken the initiative and asked Master Bei if he could stay with him. Bei Ling was happy to receive him, so he continued his medical treatments under his and Hong Lai’s care.
The physician was astounded by Feng Ming’s rate of recovery; every medicinal supplement he fed him performed to more than full effect. This was especially surprising considering the repeated failures beforehand. If it weren’t for Master Bei’s presence, Feng Ming was sure the physician would have detained him as a medical research subject.
“One more day and you’ll be fully healed,” the doctor Hai Tuo said after his latest visit. Feng Ming was ecstatic. While staying at Master Bei’s residence was much better than staying at the city guard’s barracks, it wasn’t any less awkward. He couldn’t complain too much, though. He kept getting the willies whenever he turned his back to anyone. Here, he just existed in perpetual boredom.
Feng Ming had been mentored from a young age and was an expert in holding conversations and socializing. However, all this training meant nothing to Bei Ling and Hong Lai, who were both helpless crafting addicts. Even meaningless conversations about the newly budding spring flowers would somehow become a discussion about crafting a brooch.
After a few hours of meandering conversations, he asked the two weaponsmiths for permission to wander around the very spacious abode. They granted him permission immediately but barred him from the workshop.
As if I’d want to wander around a stinking workshop, he thought.
Before long, he discovered that describing the abode as very spacious was an understatement. The main hallway he was currently exploring was a great example. It was long and wide and contained several dozen doors. By trial and error, he discovered that these doors often led to other hallways, which were also full of other doors. It was like a maze. Regrettably, he had always hated mazes as a child. Therefore, instead of figuring out the maze by brute force, he decided to test out his newly found strength—luck.
That was how he found himself in the middle of the hallway playing Spin the Dagger, which was not to be confused with a popular game amongst youngsters, Spin the Flask, where the one spinning the flask would need to kiss the one it pointed to. In this game, Feng Ming spun a dagger to discover which door he should open. He figured the maze was a defense mechanism inherent to this mysterious abode, which was likely the reason why he was allowed to wander around in the first place.
After three consecutive doors, he began to doubt the effectiveness of his method. The ornate dagger, an old heirloom he had taken from home before leaving, gradually came to a stop after his latest spin.
Last try, he thought. After this one, I’m just going back to the living room and resting. This time he didn’t find a hallway on the other side. Instead he found what looked a lot like a cross between a museum and a storage room.
In this room, weapons of all kinds were strewn about on display racks. Most of the weapons were swords, sabers, and daggers. There were also a few suits of ornate armor. He disdained these, however. They seemed bulky and clumsy, and he would never allow armor to interfere with his swift and graceful fighting style. Light armor was best.
He was very interested when it came to the weapons. He picked them up one by one, testing their balance and compatibility with his fighting style. One of them was a greatsword that looked like it weighed twice as much as him. To his surprise, it was light as a feather in his hands. “Overlord Sword, Grade Eight Spirit Weapon, Lightness in Heaviness Runic Ability” was written on its display case.
Well, that explains it. After a few more swings, he placed the weapon back on its shelf—greatswords just didn’t suit his style.
He’d already made up his mind to shamelessly request one of the weapons. He no longer had a suitable weapon after his last battle, and he really didn’t feel comfortable at the thought of being accompanied home by the county lord’s men. Money wasn’t an issue for him—it was whether or not the picky spiritual blacksmiths would be willing to sell.
After searching for the better part of an hour, he shook his head in disappointment. Alas, none of the weapons truly suited him. This made him doubt his good fortune. Wasn’t he supposed to find good things everywhere now that he was cultivating the Good Fortune Scripture? Or did he still need to accumulate a lot more merit to make this luck materialize?
Sighing, he picked up one of the plain swords on a shelf. It wasn’t a special weapon, but it was a fifth-grade sword that was suited to his fighting style. Before making his decision, he ran a few tests, expertly using his sword to execute one of his various sword techniques. Unfortunately, the storage room was not very suitable for practicing. He soon tripped backward on a crate and bumped into a shelf. A rolling sound alerted him, prompting him to roll away from the shelf. He looked back just in time to see a black spear falling down tip-first where he had previously been.
Spear, huh? I’ve never tried a spear before. Feng Ming picked it up and tried swinging it around. He had always liked the thought of wielding a spear, but his father had always said that a general’s weapon was a sword. Spears were for soldiers. But wasn’t he supposed to be a Soldier of Fortune? Trying never hurt anyone.
But how do I even use a spear? I wish I had some basic technique. Shrugging, he continued his footwork drills and decided to infuse some qi into the newfound weapon to see if he might gain any inspiration. To his surprise, the black spear began glowing with white runes, and information instantly rushed into his mind.
Nine Lives Lucky Spear. Magic weapon. Can only be wielded by the fated, ignores cultivation realm restrictions.
Lucky Spear Art. A spear and footwork art specifically designed for reckless, lucky individuals.
The weapon and spear art seemed tailor-made for him.
I’ll be damned, this whole Soldier of Fortune thing is legitimate, he thought. To his surprise, the spear art didn’t even need to be learned. It had imbued itself into his muscles and nerves, granting him muscle memory and reflexes consistent with the spear art!
He practiced for a short while before taking the spear out of storage and meeting with Bei Ling and Hong Lai. He gave them a short demonstration of his skills with the spear and requested the spear, since they were clearly fated.
“Take it. It’s yours,” Bei Ling said. “Take the second left, third right, and second left again to get to the training room.”
Feng Ming was surprised at Bei Ling’s easygoing nature. He quickly excused himself before the master smith changed his mind.
Hong Lai had observed the whole process in a daze. He came back to his senses and asked, “Master Bei, isn’t that the cursed spear that the supposed ‘Lucky General’ used in the past? The one that caused the death of twelve cultivators before someone finally gave us the spear for safekeeping?”
“Yep, that’s the one,” Bei Ling replied dryly.
“Is it… appropriate to gift it to this little friend?”
“Yep, totally appropriate. Like the man said, he’s fated with it,” Bei Ling replied without any hesitation.
“How do you know he’s fated with it?” Hong Lai asked.
“Well, for starters, he actually found the room it was stored in. Then he somehow found it despite it being hidden on the top shelf. Meanwhile, he hasn’t stabbed himself in the foot yet, nor has he broken any of my furniture. I’d say that’s a good start,” Bei Ling concluded. Hong Lai couldn’t refute him.
&
nbsp; After a good night’s sleep, Feng Ming was declared fully recovered by the doctor. He bade farewell to Bei Ling and Hong Lai before finally heading out to the barracks. There, he met his road companion, Sergeant Gou Dan. The man had brought four horses with him, so that they had two each to maximize their speed. Feng Ming approved, and they set off immediately. Getting the message to his father was of paramount importance. His friends’ lives were at stake.
Wang Jun was sitting at his desk in front of a mountain of paperwork. Despite the enormous workload, he remained unphased. His exquisite penmanship was utilized for signatures when needed, and he quickly memorized every document he read.
Elder Bai entered the room just as Wang Jun finished reading a thick dossier titled “Politics, Law, and Trade in the Song Kingdom.” The information had been compiled by the best intelligence agents in the dynasty for his perusal.
“Young Master, we’ve received the reply from the Song Kingdom’s medical association. The election for a new chairman has been triggered and will take place in four days. Our candidate will be promoting free trade in alchemical products, for the betterment of the Song Kingdom’s health and the goodwill of the people.
“Meanwhile, the propaganda campaign vilifying the Alchemists Association is fully underway. We’ve added inflammatory remarks and directed mudslinging to Zhou Li’s uncle, the prominent alchemist in Green Leaf City,” Elder Bai said, concluding his report. Dark circles could be seen around his eyes, an unusual phenomenon for foundation establishment elders.
“Very good, Elder Bai. Let’s start the second phase of the plan. Please have Elder Chong sue the Alchemists Association for illegal trade infringement. Simultaneously, have him sue Zhou Li’s uncle for contract infringement and conflict of interest, effectively resulting in price fixing. We also need to begin slinging some mud at Zhou Jia, Zhou Li’s sister. Please skew the mudslinging toward her personally, making the crown prince a victim. Actually…”
Blood Moon Page 22