Road signs
The two left the gradually quieting market one after the other, and walked along the winding dirt road toward the ancient temple.
The setting sun stretched their shadows long, intertwining them in an inseparable way.
Ji Wang carried the heavy bag of copper coins in his arms, but his steps were much lighter than when he came. He secretly glanced at Bu Jiu, who was walking half a step ahead of him.
The other person had a tall and straight figure, and his robes fluttered slightly in the evening breeze. After concealing his fox ears and tail, he looked more like a refined young master from a noble family.
After walking in silence for a while, the question that had been swirling in Ji Wang's mind for so long finally surfaced. He quickened his pace to walk alongside Bu Jiu, turned his head, and asked curiously, "Senior, um... I still don't know your honorable name."
Bu Jiu did not stop walking, his gaze fixed on the mountain road ahead, which was bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, and his voice was flat: "Bu Jiu".
He only has a given name, not a surname.
Ji Wang blinked, just as he was thinking that the name was a bit unusual, when Bu Jiu added casually, "But I don't have a surname. I have no family, so where would I get a surname?"
These words, spoken calmly, startled Ji Wang for a moment. Then, as if finding some strange resonance, his eyes lit up slightly, with a hint of joy at finding a kindred spirit, and he blurted out, "Bu Jiu... then our names are quite a good match."
His voice lowered, carrying a forced lightness: "My name is Ji Wang, which I made up myself. I... I guess you could say I don't have a home."
He was bought from a slave trader by that old swindler master when he was a child and taken to the so-called "Bu Nian Temple". The temple was so dilapidated that it was just an empty name and a few swindler "fellow disciples".
It never felt like home to him; it was more like a temporary refuge, a den where he learned how to scam people.
His name was given to him by his master on a whim, based on his birth order, and was as meaningless as those other names like Zhang San and Li Si. Later, when he became a little more sensible, he felt that Song Liu sounded bad, so he secretly changed it to "Ji Wang".
“The past is like the four seasons…the seasons cannot be chased…” Ji Wang murmured.
Upon hearing this, Bu Jiu suddenly paused in his tracks.
He glanced at Ji Wang, and the boy's feigned indifference and the unconcealed pain in his eyes were clearly visible to him.
He remained silent for a moment, and finally just gave a very soft "hmm" as a response.
There was no comforting, nor any further questioning.
But this faint response made Ji Wang feel inexplicably at ease.
It seems he is no longer wandering alone in this world.
He smiled, his eyes crinkling, and stopped dwelling on the somewhat heavy topic. Instead, he began to ramble on about what he had seen at the market: which stall's pancakes smelled really good, which old lady was particularly good at bargaining…
Bu Jiu continued walking in silence, mostly just listening. Occasionally, when Ji Wang was talking so excitedly that he almost tripped over a pebble on the road, he would subtly reach out to help him up or remind him, "Watch where you're going."
The two walked up the mountain path, and as the familiar outline of the ancient temple began to appear faintly in the twilight, Ji instinctively headed towards the crooked gate.
Unexpectedly, Bu Jiu, who was half a step ahead of him, turned and went straight into a small path half-covered by weeds.
"Huh?" Ji Wang quickly stopped and looked at the figure in confusion. "Bu Jiu, aren't you going back?" He pointed in the direction of the ancient temple.
Although the place was dilapidated and gloomy, it was at least the only place he had stayed for the past few days, and... there were still some talismans he hadn't finished drawing inside.
Bu Jiu didn't turn his head; only his voice drifted over on the mountain breeze, carrying a hint of disdain: "...That place is so dilapidated."
Ji Wang: "..."
You, a ghost king, still care about this?
He jogged to keep up with Bu Jiu's pace, walking along the incredibly narrow path that was almost completely covered by grass and trees. His curiosity was like being tickled by a feather: "So...where are we going now?"
Bu Jiu walked at a leisurely pace, as if strolling in his own garden: "Go back to where I live."
Ji Wang's eyes widened slightly, and he blurted out, "...The Ghost King still has a place to live?"
The "common sense" that his master and fellow disciples had been lecturing him about flashed through his mind: "Isn't it usually the case that once someone discovers a hideout, they kill the person and then move on to another place?"
In his imagination, the Ghost King's life should be like this, constantly on the move, shooting and then moving on to a new place.
Bu Jiu, who was walking in front, suddenly stopped in his tracks.
Ji Wang was caught off guard and almost bumped into his back.
Bu Jiu slowly turned around. In the twilight, his face was expressionless, but his eyes were filled with a mixture of speechlessness and disappointment.
He stared at Ji Wang for a full three breaths, making Ji Wang feel uneasy, before finally squeezing out a sentence through gritted teeth:
"...Forget all the rubbish you learned in that makeshift troupe."
"..." Ji Wang shrank back, realizing he had spoken out of turn, and muttered softly, "Oh..."
Bu Jiu seemed annoyed by his cowardly behavior, or perhaps he felt that arguing with him was beneath him. In the end, he simply turned around impatiently and continued leading the way, coldly tossing out, "Follow me. If you say another word, I'll throw you to the wolves."
Ji Wang dared not ask any more questions, but couldn't help but think to himself: In this desolate wilderness, it's not certain whether there are wolves... However, the Ghost King actually has a fixed place to live? This completely overturned his understanding of the past seventeen years.
Ji Wang was still pondering what the accommodations were like. If they were nice, he might shamelessly ask to stay a little longer.
Just as he was wondering how to start the conversation, Bu Jiu, who was walking in front of him, stopped in his tracks, his sleeves fluttering even though there was no wind.
"Be careful." Bu Jiu's voice wasn't loud. He almost instinctively pulled Ji Wang behind him, his movements so fast that only a blur remained.
Before Ji Wang could react, a golden light shot out from the side of the forest, heading straight for Bu Jiu's face.
The light was not a weapon, but an extremely condensed talisman, accompanied by a hissing sound as it tore through the air, clearly indicating that the newcomer was a person of considerable cultivation.
Without blaming, dodging, or avoiding, he simply raised his other hand and seemingly casually reached forward to grab—
"Smack!"
The talisman, powerful enough to annihilate demons, was held firmly in his palm as if it were a light, fluttering leaf.
The talisman trembled violently between his fingers, emitting a blinding light, but could not penetrate any further.
However, the attacker seemed to have anticipated his move. Almost at the same time, another, more concealed talisman came from another tricky angle, its target being Ji Wang, who was being protected behind Bu Jiu.
Bu Jiu frowned slightly, clearly sensing the second attack. If he dodged, Ji Wang would be hit. In a flash, he chose to take the blow head-on with his shoulder.
"Sizzle—!"
The talisman slammed solidly onto Bu Jiu's shoulder, producing a loud popping sound like cold water being poured into boiling oil. A patch of his clothing was instantly charred black, with faint, eerie blue flames flickering within.
Ji Wang's heart nearly stopped in shock: "I won't hold you accountable!"
Bu Jiu only swayed slightly for a moment, without even frowning.
He lowered his head and casually brushed away the charred marks on his shoulder. The flames lingered around his fingertips for a few moments before disappearing without a trace.
He looked in the direction from which the talisman had come, his eyes showing no anger at being ambushed, only a weariness as if he had seen something uninteresting.
From the shadows of the forest, a middle-aged Taoist priest, holding a peach wood sword and dressed in a Taoist robe, slowly emerged.
His face showed surprise and uncertainty, clearly not expecting his killing move to be so easily neutralized.
Bu Jiu looked at him, as if trying to recall something insignificant, her fingertips lightly tapping her temple, her tone chillingly calm:
"Let me think... the last time I saw you was a few years ago... twenty? Twenty-five?" He tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the Taoist's face, which was slightly distorted by age and his current emotions. "Xuanfeng, you haven't improved at all."
Xuanfeng's face instantly turned a deep purplish-red, and his hand holding the peach wood sword trembled slightly with anger.
He had spent over twenty years in arduous training, all to avenge the humiliation of that year, but he never expected that in the eyes of the other party, he was like an ant that had been standing still.
Ji Wang hid behind Bu Jiu, his heart still pounding.
Bu Jiu didn't even glance at Xuan Feng again, but turned his head to the still-shaken Ji Wang and said, "Stand back a bit, you're in the way."
Ji Wang obediently moved back a few steps and hid behind a tree. He knew that what was about to happen was beyond his control.
Bu Jiu raised his hand, a few wisps of golden demonic energy swirling around his fingertips. The light danced around him, making his expression appear even more nonchalant.
He didn't even glance at Xuanfeng's peach wood sword, which trembled slightly from gathering power; instead, his gaze fell on the other's face, contorted with anger, and his tone carried a hint of regret:
"Unfortunately, I thought you had already... achieved perfect merit and attained Buddhahood on the spot." He deliberately dragged out the last syllable, the mockery in his eyes almost tangible. "Master Xuanfeng..."
The words "become a Buddha" made Xuanfeng tremble with rage. He was a Taoist priest from a proper lineage, who had dedicated his life to subduing demons and pursuing immortality. How dare this demon claim that he had converted to Buddhism? It was an utter disgrace!
Xuanfeng's chest heaved violently, his last shred of reason completely burned away, and he roared: "You insolent monster!"
The peach wood sword in his hand instantly condensed his life's cultivation, its azure light surging forth as it pierced straight at Bu Jiu's heart.
Faced with this deadly blow delivered with fury, Bu Jiu didn't even change his posture.
"Sigh..." A sigh escaped her lips.
This sound seemed to be a complaint about the other person's overestimation of their abilities, and also a helpless expression of those four words: "Everyone only knows how to say those four words, they never change..."
Just before the tip of the peach wood sword was about to touch his clothes, Bu Jiu's fingertips, wreathed in demonic energy, gently reached forward as if plucking a flower.
There was no earth-shattering collision, no deafening explosion of spiritual energy.
The menacing peach wood sword, like a venomous snake whose vital point has been seized, vanished instantly upon touching that wisp of demonic energy, all its azure light and power dissipating.
The sword tip was only a finger's width from Li Bujiu's chest, and could not advance any further.
Xuanfeng's pupils shrank sharply, his face filled with disbelief. He felt all his power vanish like water flowing into a river.
Bu Jiu pinched the tip of the peach wood sword, which contained the power of thunder, between two fingers. He tilted his head slightly, looking at Xuan Feng's face, which was red from straining, and asked with a hint of doubt, "Twenty-five years... and you've only practiced this?"
He applied a little force.
"Crack—"
The century-old peach wood sword that Xuanfeng cherished as his life began to shatter inch by inch, starting from the tip.
Like fragile, withered branches, they turned to dust and fell in a flurry.
Xuanfeng was thrown back by the force of the recoil, his tiger's mouth split open and blood flowed freely. He looked at his empty hands and then at the pile of wood chips on the ground, his face ashen.
Bu Jiu flicked his fingers in front of him, as if he were just brushing away a tiny speck of dust.
"Wow, that's amazing..." Ji Wang jumped out from behind the thick tree behind Bu Jiu, his eyes sparkling with amazement. He tugged at Bu Jiu's sleeve, his voice excited, "Can I learn this?"
He was referring to Bu Jiu's ability to crush magical artifacts so effortlessly. He had learned it and was determined to crush all of that old man's artifacts.
Bu Jiu looked down at him, her brows and eyes unconsciously relaxing: "You can't learn it."
This is not a denigration, but a statement of fact; it is a power that belongs to his origin, beyond the reach of humans.
Xuanfeng regained his senses and saw Ji Wang's face. Although young, the contours of his eyebrows and eyes...
“Ji…Wang…?” Xuanfeng uttered the name hoarsely, his voice filled with surprise and doubt. Then, that doubt transformed into an even more frenzied rage, “It really is you! I knew you were a demon too! How could you—”
As if he had confirmed some secret, he gripped the short, black cone he had prepared in his sleeve, and, carrying his resentment, charged straight at Ji Wang.
"Well!"
Before he could finish speaking, he let out a painful groan.
Bu Jiu didn't even turn around; he simply raised his free hand, his five fingers loosely clenched.
An invisible force instantly gripped Xuanfeng's throat from afar, choking off his unfinished words.
Xuanfeng's feet left the ground, and he was forcibly lifted into the air. His eyes bulged out, and his limbs struggled in vain, but he could not budge them at all.
Bu Jiu gently pulled Ji Wang, who was still not fully aware of what had happened, into his arms, one hand firmly protecting the back of his head, pressing his face against his shoulder to shield him from the uncomfortable sight.
As his loosely clenched fingers gradually tightened, a "crackling" sound of bones being compressed filled the air.
He lowered his head, his lips accidentally brushing against Ji Wang's temple, his voice carrying a calming power: "Don't be afraid."
The struggles behind me had ceased, and only the whistling of the mountain wind through the leaves and a faint, almost imperceptible smell of blood remained in the air.
Bu Jiu's hand was still gently pressing on the back of his head. He hesitated for a moment, his voice muffled on Bu Jiu's shoulder: "He just called me 'Ji Wang'? But I've never seen him before."
Bu Jiu's body stiffened for a moment.
In that moment of distraction, a streak of light shot out from the palm of the Taoist priest who should have been dead.
The stream of light did not rush outwards, but rather, as if recognizing its master, shot straight towards Ji Wang's brow.
"!" Bu Jiu grabbed Ji Wang and retreated quickly, while his other hand reached for the gray light, demonic energy bursting from his fingertips.
However, the light seemed to be invisible and intangible, penetrating his barrier. Just before it touched Ji Wang's brow, it seemed to hit an invisible membrane and suddenly dissipated, leaving only a wisp of green smoke.
Ji Wang felt a chill, as if he had been hit by a raindrop. He raised his hand to touch it: "I thought it would hurt."
Bu Jiu's face instantly darkened to the point of being dripping with water. He looked at Xuan Feng's lifeless body on the ground and wished he could have skinned him alive and made him die in even more pain.
“The mark…” he spat out the words through gritted teeth, his voice filled with a furious rage at being tricked, “He burned his remnant soul just to leave this mark on you!”
He gathered his dense demonic power, attempting to probe or even erase the mark. His fingertips touched his skin, and Ji Wang only felt a warm current flow in; there was nothing else unusual.
Bu Jiu's brows furrowed even more deeply. He could neither sense the mark nor dispel it.
The mark... seemed to exist at all, or perhaps it had been hidden away in a way he couldn't understand.
"How is it?" Ji Wang's heart tightened as well.
Bu Jiu withdrew his hand and said, word by word, "Before he died, he locked onto your soul. This wasn't an attack... it was a 'landmark'."
He raised his eyes and looked at the distant mountains shrouded in twilight: "He is willing to risk his soul to return your position to his sect. These next few days, you must stay with me and never leave my side."
"Oh..." Ji Wang lowered his head, his voice muffled, "So where do we go now? Back to your place?"
Bu Jiu hummed in response, then naturally pulled Ji Wang to his side, turned around, and led him into the depths of the path as the night deepened.
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