Chapter 1: Society Speaks Not to Strangers

Outside Yulin County, at the foot of the mountain.

Li Lin crouched motionless in the grass beside the country path.

Farmers occasionally passed by, carrying hoes or burdened with goods, yet none noticed him.

At the lower right corner of his vision, a line of text continuously rose upward.

[Stealth +1]

[Stealth +1]

[Stealth +1]

Though his legs had gone numb from crouching, seeing these characters keep appearing filled Li Lin with a sense of accomplishment.

If he crouched like this for a few hours each day, in another half-year or so, he’d gain enough self-preservation ability to spend nights in the wild.

Just as he was savoring the moment, a pair of large hands shoved aside the grass, revealing a bearded face: “Brother Lin, what are you doing crouching here?”

How the hell did this kid find me?!

Li Lin was baffled.

He pushed himself up using his knees, but his numb legs prevented him from standing fully straight.

At that moment, the bearded man’s expression cleared with understanding: “I get it—you came here to…”

“Shut up,” Li Lin cut him off without hesitation. “If you dare say that last word, I’ll pluck every last hair from your beard.”

The bearded man flinched, clutching his face and stumbling backward.

Seizing the chance, Li Lin finally stood upright, stomped his feet, took a few steps, and felt the numbness recede. “Xiaohu, what do you want?”

“Today’s the day the county distributes public grain,” Xiaohu said, gazing at Li Lin with admiration. “And Big Zhao told me to beg you—if you’re going to collect yours, let me tag along to buy some odds and ends for everyone back home.”

“Fine,” Li Lin said, walking back along the country path toward the village. “You know the rules.”

“I know, I know—I’ll be good.”

Xiaohu nodded vigorously, then bounced away toward the village, beaming.

Yet his adorable demeanor clashed utterly with his face.

Li Lin knew this was normal—after all, the boy was only thirteen; his mature appearance wasn’t his fault, it was his father’s.

Following the country path back to the village, he returned to his humble home.

He drank a sip of water to quench his thirst, then took a white jade tablet from beneath his pillow and fastened it to his belt before stepping out.

At that moment, Xiaohu arrived, sprinting with two empty bamboo baskets on a shoulder pole.

“Brother Lin, Brother Lin—I’m ready!”

Then a larger version of Xiaohu walked up from behind.

He spoke in a deep, rumbling voice: “Young Master Li, I’m counting on you to look after my Xiaohu. Old Zhao thanks you in advance.”

“You’re too kind, Uncle Zhao.”

Li Lin smiled and returned the bow.

Zhao Xiaohu looked nearly identical to his father—just smaller.

Leaving the village, Li Lin walked ahead while Zhao Xiaohu carried the empty baskets on his pole, bouncing with delight.

The village wasn’t far from the county seat—less than half an hour’s walk.

Entering through the city gate, they saw a bustling area; unlike the village’s muddy paths, the county’s main roads were paved with blue stone slabs.

Zhao Xiaohu, carrying his baskets, stared around at the lively scene with wonder and envy.

He didn’t notice the mocking glances directed at him.

Li Lin walked ahead and soon reached the government office.

The government office runner on guard spotted him and hurried over. “Master Li, here to collect public grain?”

“Yes.”

“Already prepared for you—just a moment.”

The runner dashed inside and returned moments later, arms full of a yellow cloth sack.

He panted as he handed it to Li Lin, then produced a stamped document. “Master Li, please.”

Li Lin pressed his red thumbprint onto the document, then said, “Thank you.”

The runner looked flattered. “It’s my duty, my duty.”

Li Lin lifted the fifty-pound sack with one hand and walked toward the marketplace, effortlessly.

Zhao Xiaohu caught up behind him. “Brother Lin, you’re so impressive—even the constables treat you with respect.”

Li Lin walked on, replying: “It’s not impressive—it comes at a cost.”

Zhao Xiaohu didn’t understand.

After walking a while, he said again: “Brother Lin, why not put this sack of rice in my basket?”

“No need,” Li Lin laughed. “It’s light to me. And if only one end of your pole is heavy, it’ll be uncomfortable to carry.”

Zhao Xiaohu understood and fell silent.

After walking a while longer, they reached the marketplace—and noticed it was quieter than usual.

It wasn’t that there were fewer people… there were just as many, but now they all stood in a circle, facing inward.

Li Lin’s hearing was sharper than most—he heard screams from within the crowd.

He stepped forward, pushed through the onlookers, and saw a young man in tight-fitting attire kicking a dark-skinned middle-aged man.

Each kick drew a cry of pain from the man.

Nearby, several attendants held a boy down on his knees.

The boy watched his father being beaten, tears streaming down his face, his eyes filled with venom as he glared at the attacker.

“Brother Lin, he’s a Hunting Spiritman too.”

Li Lin nodded slightly—the young man wore a white jade tablet at his waist.

He turned to a bystander. “Old man, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” the wrinkled elder shook his head. “That nobleman came over and started beating Wu Lao Han without saying a word.”

Li Lin raised an eyebrow.

The matter was unclear—he had no interest in getting involved. Besides, he noticed the young man’s blows, though brutal, targeted fleshy areas unlikely to cause lasting injury.

The old man looked terrible, but with a few days’ rest, he’d be fine.

Yet Zhao Xiaohu’s expression was indignant, his mouth opening and closing without sound.

At that moment, the young man grabbed the injured man’s hair and yanked him up, then drew breath to spit phlegm directly onto his face.

“Stop!”

A booming shout echoed through the entire marketplace.

All eyes turned… and landed on Zhao Xiaohu.

There was no help for it—the voice had come from there, and Zhao Xiaohu’s wide eyes, thick black beard, and towering frame made him look every bit the brute. Everyone assumed he’d shouted.

The young man in tight-fitting attire stared at Zhao Xiaohu, displeased.

Zhao Xiaohu, realizing everyone was staring at him, panicked, shaking his head frantically. “Not me! Not me!”

He ducked behind Li Lin.

At that moment, a young man dressed as a scholar pushed through the crowd from outside.

Li Lin’s expression changed slightly—he recognized him.

The scholar stepped before the young man and bowed. “Sir, as a Hunting Spiritman, bullying common folk isn’t becoming.”

“Bullying?” The young man tossed the old man aside and laughed. “You’re the ones bullying me, an outsider.”

The scholar frowned. “Explain.”

“This old man sold his daughter to me yesterday and took ten taels of official silver. Now his daughter’s gone.” The young man smiled. “I came to ask about it—he claims ignorance and refuses to return my money. Shouldn’t he be beaten?”

The scholar’s expression grew uneasy.

The crowd murmured.

The old man offered no rebuttal—presumably, the story was true.

He deserved it.

The young man continued smiling: “Ten taels—I can afford it. I’ve beaten him, and my anger’s spent. But you, meddling without knowing the facts, will one day pay for it.”

The scholar’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“Let the boy go,” the young man ordered.

The attendants shoved the boy onto the ground beside his father.

The young man stepped forward, planting his right foot on the boy’s right hand. “I can tell—you hate me. You want to kill me.”

The boy suppressed the fury in his eyes.

“But you didn’t act. So I have no reason to punish you—I’m a kind man.” The young man didn’t press down hard, merely pinning the boy’s hand. “Remember my name: Wang Tianyou. When you grow up, when you’re strong enough, come find me. Either you kill me—or I kill your whole family. Understood?”

Wang Tianyou’s face radiated malice, chilling to behold.

The boy dared not look up, trembling all over.

Wang Tianyou stood straight, laughed loudly, scanned the crowd—and his gaze paused briefly on Li Lin before turning away, leaving with his attendants.

Seeing the aggressor depart, several villagers who knew the old man moved forward to help him up.

The scholar walked up to Li Lin and bowed with a smile. “Brother Kunge, it’s been a while.”

Li Lin returned the bow with a smile. “Indeed, it’s been some time. What brings you to the marketplace, Zijing?”

The scholar was Huang Qi, eldest son of the county magistrate Huang Yan, styled Zijing.

As the son of a government official, he had no reason to be in such a chaotic place.

“I came here specifically to find Brother Kun Ge. The government office runners said you’d likely be here.” Huang Qi gestured politely: “Would you join me for a drink at the nearby tavern?”

Li Lin nodded, unfastened the white jade token from his waist, and said to Zhao Xiaohu beside him: “Take this. Go buy what you need at the market. If anyone gives you trouble or tries to cheat you, name me—and show them this token.”

The market was full of crooked merchants who loved to bully villagers who came from the countryside.

Overcharging was normal; shortchanging was inevitable, and sometimes you paid and got nothing at all.

With the Hunter’s jade token, no one would dare to bully Xiaohu.

“Understood, Lin Ge.”

Zhao Xiaohu took the jade token and left, shouldering two bamboo baskets.

Huang Qi and Li Lin sat down at the tavern. After the waiter brought wine and dishes, Huang Qi raised his cup: “Brother Kun Ge, let me drink first.”

“Same to you.”

The yellow wine went down. Huang Qi set down his empty cup and said: “Half a month ago, I went to Jincheng and met a noble soul.”

Jincheng was a major city, under whose jurisdiction Yulin County fell.

Li Lin also set down his cup and listened in silence.

“He has a heart to save the world, the talent to rescue the people, and the will to act for them.” Huang Qi spoke with deep admiration: “Compared to him, I am nothing.”

Li Lin still said nothing.

Huang Qi had hoped to spark his interest, but seeing Li Lin’s silence, he paused, then pressed on: “Brother Kun Ge, in Yulin County, you are the one person I admire most. But don’t you feel it’s a waste—your abilities buried in this small county?”

“I like it here,” Li Lin smiled lightly.

Seeing Li Lin still unwilling to respond, Huang Qi dropped the pretense: “Brother Kun Ge, this noble soul feels one man’s strength is too small. He’s gathering people to help more suffering souls. I’ve joined. I hope you’ll join us—to save the people from fire and water.”

“You plan to form a society?”

Huang Qi glanced around. Seeing no one paying attention, he whispered: “It’s not exactly a society. Just a group of us, united by a shared vision, working together to save more doomed souls.”

Li Lin gave a quiet laugh: “Brother Zi Jing, I’m different from you literati. I’m a warrior. I don’t understand grand ideals. And I’m a Hunter. By Great Qi law, Hunters cannot join societies—except… the Demon Subjugation Office.”

“I know that,” Huang Qi said, locking eyes with Li Lin, his voice slow. “But can this court still spare the strength to control Hunters?”

“I can control myself.”

Huang Qi looked at Li Lin’s calm face, sighed softly, stood, bowed deeply, and left.

Li Lin stayed in the tavern, drinking and eating small dishes.

About an hour and a half later, Zhao Xiaohu returned, shouldering the two baskets.

Both baskets were full—items from the Zhao family, and other villagers’ essentials he’d bought on their behalf.

“Lin Ge, I’ve bought everything. Shall we head back to the village now?”

As he spoke, he returned the white jade token to Li Lin.

Li Lin glanced at the sky and said: “No rush. There’s still time. Eat something—you’ll need strength for the road. Besides, a noble patron already paid for the food.”

“Alright.”

Zhao Xiaohu sat down without hesitation and ate heartily.

Soon, every dish on the table was gone.

The two rose to return home.

Compared to their arrival, their pace now was noticeably quicker.

Many villagers from other hamlets also left the county at the same time, all walking with urgent steps.

On the way back, Zhao Xiaohu dared not look at the valleys or forests beside the village path.

He kept his head down, following closely behind Li Lin.

After more than half an hour, they reached the village entrance. Zhao Shu was already waiting there.

His thick beard made him unmistakable—even from afar.

Seeing them return, Zhao Shu exhaled in relief, hurried over, took his son’s pole, and slung it onto his shoulder.

“Thank you, Li Xiaolang. I’ll take Xiaohu home now.”

“Alright. Give my regards to Hua Shen.”

“Got it.”

Zhao Xiaohu waved at Li Lin, then followed his father home.

As soon as they entered, they slammed the door shut. No one was left walking outside the village.

Li Lin did not go home. He went to the village center, found a dead tree, and beneath it, a green stone altar.

Strange lines were painted on the altar, radiating a foul aura.

Li Lin pressed his left hand against it. Soon, a translucent woman in court robes appeared, her face hidden behind a black leather mask.

The moment she appeared, she clung to Li Lin’s left hand, extended her long, forked serpent tongue, and licked his palm again and again.

She licked eagerly.

Each lick drew away a faint red glow, which she swallowed into her belly.

(End of Chapter)