Chapter 95: Pulling the Fox

Zhang San’s father had a good impression of Xu Yuan; the box of matches Xu Yuan gave him gave him face for many days beneath the old tree.

But how did this kid become a mountain runner?

Xu Yuan saw the gate of the village closed from afar and did not approach too closely, stopping a hundred zhang outside the village to wait.

Sure enough, not long after, the old mountain runner emerged.

Behind him followed a hanged ghost.

The hanged ghost looked somewhat familiar—it seemed to be the one he had buried beside his mountain goods.

Xu Yuan bowed respectfully: “Elder.”

Bai Laoyan nodded slightly, his tone somewhat hostile: “So you’re not a merchant after all.”

Xu Yuan smiled apologetically: “I had no choice at the time, but this time I truly brought a good deal of goods.”

Xu Yuan and Fu Jingyu set down their heavy packs and opened them—inside were salt, ironware, and other items the village needed most.

The old mountain runner glanced at them and asked again: “What exactly are you here for?”

Xu Yuan looked around: “Is it safe to speak here?”

Bai Laoyan turned: “Follow me.”

The group moved swiftly, traveling over ten li to a hidden mountain shack.

This was Bai Laoyan’s resting spot in the mountains.

Mountain runners all had several such places.

The shack was cramped; after everyone entered, they could not turn around. And the “ceiling” was too low—the hanged ghost could not hang, making him feel utterly out of place.

Bai Laoyan paid no mind, sitting down first: “Speak.”

Xu Yuan said: “This time, I ask you to help us kill a few people in the mountains…”

Bai Laoyan replied without hesitation: “No, that would break the rules.”

Xu Yuan then took out a leather pouch and placed it on the wooden slab serving as Bai Laoyan’s low table.

Then he smiled at Bai Laoyan.

The pouch bore a seal.

This time, Xu Yuan was pulling the fox’s hide to raise a banner.

Bai Laoyan’s face turned from waxen yellow to iron-gray. After a long pause, he slowly reached out, took the pouch, and rubbed his rough index finger over the seal.

Then he opened the pouch—inside was indeed a broken mountain lord stele.

For a moment, the veins and tendons in his hand bulged violently, then quickly returned to stillness.

“Hmph, using that old fox to pressure me?” Bai Laoyan’s tone grew even more hostile; he shifted his body, revealing the hatchet beneath his feathered cloak.

Xu Yuan felt the eyeballs behind the yellow crystal lenses—pure white, without pupils—fixate on him with unwavering calm: “I am sworn brother and sister to the two young ladies of Plum Pond.”

Then Xu Yuan pointed to the seal on the pouch: “If you don’t believe me, we can go to Plum Pond right now—you can ask my two sworn sisters face to face.”

The old mountain runner remained silent for a long while; the hanged ghost watched him quietly. Both knew the truth behind the massacre of the two villages years ago.

No village in the mountains dared provoke that old fox.

Pah!

Bai Laoyan tossed the pouch back onto the wooden slab, took a deep breath, and asked: “Who to kill? What level? And are they connected to any of the mountain head monsters?”

In the village, those evil spirits capable of claiming territory were called “head monsters.”

Head monsters varied in size and strength; the two foxes at Plum Pond were likely the weakest, while those on Guanghuo Street were the strongest.

Xu Yuan tucked the pouch away and replied: “Others call him ‘Lord Qin,’ but he’s certainly not from the Purification Office.”

At least seventh-rank Artisan cultivator, possibly sixth-rank.

He’s connected to the Haikou Toad, the Snake Pole, the Ghost Temple Idol, and the Locust Witch—we last saw him with the Locust Witch beside him.”

Upon hearing these four head monsters, Bai Laoyan frowned: “These are all tied to Qiao Zian…”

Xu Yuan offered no further explanation; the old mountain runner muttered under his breath, understanding the matter in his heart, and dropped the subject.

“The goods you brought aren’t enough,” Bai Laoyan pointed to the two packs: “Add five times as much.”

“No problem—I’ll deliver them myself after it’s done.”

Xu Yuan had specifically traveled from the county town to purchase these goods, all to bribe the old mountain runner.

The hanged ghost suddenly asked: “Where is this Lord Qin now?”

Xu Yuan bowed with clasped hands: “How should I address you?”

Bai Laoyan lifted his chin: “Drifting Master.”

Xu Yuan barely held back from blurting out, “What a fine name.”

“They headed toward Guanghuo Street yesterday afternoon.”

Upon hearing the name Guanghuo Street, Bai Laoyan and Drifting Master both frowned.

“Boy, tell me the truth—what connection do they have on Guanghuo Street?” Bai Laoyan asked gravely.

Xu Yuan shook his head: “According to our knowledge, none. They need the Locust Witch to introduce them to the few on the street.”

Bai Laoyan relaxed slightly: “Kill them before they reach the street!”

Bai Laoyan turned to Drifting Master: “Old ghost, lend a hand?”

Drifting Master hesitated: “This matter… has nothing to do with me…”

Xu Yuan had a sudden idea and pulled out a small booklet, opening it to the pages where Lao Qian had recorded how to raise hanged ghost soldiers: “I’ll give this to you.”

Xu Yuan had studied these pages many times and memorized them thoroughly.

Drifting Master glanced at it once, flew into a rage, then flipped through the rest and became intensely interested.

“Agreed!” Drifting Master closed the booklet, tucked it into his robes, and vanished.

“Then let’s go—kill them before they reach the street tomorrow morning!” The old mountain runner rose abruptly.

…

The old mountain runner tossed the two heavy packs through the village gate and told Zhang San’s father: “Keep them safe. I’ll divide them when I return.”

“If I don’t come back…” he pointed to Xu Yuan and the other three: “Watch their souls—burn them on the ‘ghost stove.’ No matter what, recover the rest.”

Zhang San’s father shuddered: “Don’t come back… you…”

But the old mountain runner merely waved his hand and walked away.

Xu Yuan passed beneath the village gate and grinned at Zhang San’s father: “Uncle Zhang, next time I’ll bring you a few more boxes of matches.”

Zhang San’s father quickly lowered his head, stammering and refusing to respond.

Fu Jingyu and the other two followed behind Xu Yuan; Lu Zhengyan was unremarkable, but Yan Lao felt deep emotion.

Xu Yuan had forced the old mountain runner to join them using nothing but a pouch from the old fox.

Throughout the entire negotiation, he remained utterly calm and composed, revealing not a single flaw—pulling two powerful allies for a group that was otherwise weak!

He showed the bearing of a seasoned general.

Recalling their first meeting, though the boy had some wit, he’d always seemed in need of careful refinement by the elder before he could truly stand among the elite.

Yet in just these few days, his growth had been astonishing.

Xu Yuan himself had no full confidence he could fool the old mountain runner.

After all, he didn’t know whether the two sisters had exaggerated about their role in the massacre of the two villages.

But it was worth a try.

After all, their journey to Guanghuo Street would take them past Wangxiang Village.

If it failed, he’d only suffer a few mocking words from the old mountain runner—and lose a little face.

(End of Chapter)