Chapter 126

Nearly a hundred beast-oil torches suddenly lit up, illuminating a large area in front of Wu Tie.

Five guard teams formed a fan shape and closed in, each also secretly on guard, looking as if swords were drawn and bows taut.

Shi Fei jumped down from the gray-rock lizard, his fat shaking as he went without armor, smiling broadly as he walked toward the five sturdy men who looked like the guard team leaders.

Perhaps it was the fatty's natural affability; Shi Fei's plump, white round face beamed with a bright smile as he muttered something quietly to a few guard captains, and a burly, bearded man waved his hand angrily, cursing as he led his people back to their camp.

The other four units also withdrew, leaving only a few shrewd-looking gaunt old men to converse with Shi Fei.

After a while, Shi Fei finally came running back, his fat jiggling, and brought Wu Tie and a few others to the encampment of one of the units.

It was an open space five or six hundred meters in diameter, surrounded by seven or eight thick stone pillars. A few rat-men scouts climbed the pillars, peeking out half their heads curiously, looking down at Wu Tie and the others as they entered the camp.

Inside the camp, over a hundred four-wheeled carriages were arranged in a circle, linked together with sturdy ropes. A bonfire burned within the circular wagon formation, and many elders, women, and children gathered around it, whispering softly.

It was obvious that Wu Tie's sudden, rash intrusion had frightened these elders and women and children; some still bore a trace of lingering fear on their faces, and others dared not look directly at Wu Tie and his companions as they entered the wagon circle.

However, when they saw the lovely, cute shamaness perched on Wu Tie's shoulder, and the serene, pure‑as‑a‑clear‑spring Yanhán Lùhou, whose plain looks were offset by a refreshing demeanor that pleased the eye, the elders' and women's faces quickly relaxed, and some even warmly smiled and nodded from afar in greeting.

A completely harmless little girl, a similarly non‑threatening tranquil maiden, a scrawny youth almost as frail as a dwarf, a dead‑fat fatty whose running made the earth shake, and a white‑furred rat‑man whose whole body looked aged and feeble…

How could such a combination possibly be dangerous?

On the contrary, Wu Tie was tall and thin, standing nearly two meters, giving him some intimidation by height, but his build was like a spear—skinny and tall—so his deterrence was actually less than that of the two dwarf warriors in the wagon train.

From a distant shadow came a hoarse old voice: "What kind of starvation must this child have endured from infancy to become so skinny?"

Wu Tie's mouth twitched slightly, as if he hadn't heard the whispered remarks.

"Wu Tie, this wandering troupe is also heading for the Great Dragon Realm. The Great Dragon Realm, nearby, is a relatively peaceful great prison, far more stable than the Changsheng Sect's territory." Shi Fei habitually patted his big belly and chuckled, "It's on the way—we just happen to be going that way."

He proudly told Wu Tie, "The people of the 'Drifting Troupe' are quite nice; they don't want my money—if we take on some guard, watch, and manual labor duties, they'll let us travel with the troupe."

Wu Tie nodded, agreeing to Shi Fei's decision.

From here to the Great Dragon Realm is still a long way; at their normal pace it would take at least two or three months. Such a lengthy journey would be terribly lonely if it were just the few of them.

More contact with people and more exposure to things would be beneficial for Wu Tie and company.

Although eager to see Wu Jin, since we know he's in Wa Valley, what's there to worry about?

"Shamaness, come, let's eat roasted meat." Wu Tie laughed, patted the shamaness, untied a hide bag from the back of the giant wolf‑spider, grabbed it, and walked toward the nearest bonfire.

The troupe members seated by the fire smiled and nodded at Wu Tie, making space for him and Old Bai to sit down.

Wu Tie held the shamaness in his arms, while Old Bai took several bloody fresh snake pieces from the hide bag, strung them on vines, and set them to smoke‑roast beside the fire.

A rat‑man who looked even older than Old Bai, with most of his red fur fallen off and spots all over, turned his head and greeted Old Bai: "Brother, what are you up to?"

Old Bai warmly returned the greeting: "Old brother, we're out seeking relatives. Heck, we're a small branch of a family; now everything's chaotic everywhere, people are getting beaten black and blue, we… barely managed to escape."

The red‑haired rat‑man sighed and went on: "Yeah, everywhere's fighting and killing. Lately the Changsheng Sect in the Qingmu Realm went mad, snatching and killing people everywhere; several good youngsters from our troupe have gone missing."

Shaking his head, the red‑haired rat‑man murmured: "We can only go to the Great Dragon Realm; I hope it's more peaceful there… This world's getting harder and harder to get by in."

Wu Tie remained silent, quietly listening to the exchange between Old Bai and the red‑haired rat‑man.

After a while, a few of the Yanhán Lu had settled their mounts and came over, sitting beside Wu Tie.

Shi Fei, quite experienced, easily struck up camaraderie with the troupe members by the fire; a skin of bad liquor was enough for an old dwarf to treat Shi Fei as his own brother. The two slung arms over each other's shoulders, chatting nonsense, and Wu Tie gradually learned the troupe's history.

The Drifting Troupe has actually been passed down for over two hundred years.

They have no fixed abode, no permanent territory; under successive troupe leaders they have roamed north and south, making a living through music, acrobatics, petty dramas, and other means.

Wandering troupes are a complex organization whose exact state of existence is hard to pin down.

Some wandering troupes double as brothels, thieves, information dealers, smuggling rings, hired‑muscle killers, and so on.

Yet the leaders of the Drifting Troupe through the generations have been scrupulous, engaging only in "reasonable and lawful" affairs and generally keeping clear of dark, violent dealings.

This troupe is also full of human feeling, doing its utmost to support its elders and nurture its children, which makes its situation very difficult.

In this benighted world, it is remarkable that a troupe of over two thousand can endure and pass on for more than two hundred years—the Drifting Troupe is truly impressive.

Wu Tie listened quietly, hearing every word and sentence of the troupe members.

He listened to their past, their lives, their present circumstances—such as ever‑tightening food supplies, medicines, and various materials.

The only thing he didn't hear was any yearning for the future from these troupe members.

They seemed to hold no hope for the future; the future felt too distant, and even they were unsure what tomorrow would bring.

The whole troupe gave off the atmosphere of a "living" person.

He merely lived.

Clinging to life, a lifeless, death‑filled existence.

Opening the mouth to eat, opening it to drink, eating, drinking, defecating, urinating—just maintaining bare survival, nothing more.

By comparison, when at the Wu family's Shibao, the dwarf slaves there would sometimes excitedly discuss future life—maybe one day they'd get a small piece of meat, maybe one day the family would have two more children, maybe one day Wu Zhan would take pity and let everyone rest…

In the Drifting Troupe, Wu Tie felt no such hope, however faint, like a mirage.

Wu Tie held the shamaness and fed her the roasted snake meat bit by bit.

The snake meat was slick with fat, yet the shamaness's little face and hands remained unstained, clean and pure, snow‑white and tender.

Beside another pile of bonfire, a cheerful voice suddenly rang out: "Hahaha, the long night is endless—it's rare to see everyone so happy; let me show you a little trick."

Wu Tie turned his head; there stood a lanky, tall youth with sallow skin, clearly malnourished, yet wearing splendid clothes that were utterly out of place with the attire of the Cangyan Realm.

He waved his hands deftly, while a troupe of children stared blankly at him.

Suddenly a few sparks shot from between his waving hands, then a continuous spray of sparks burst forth; the sparks behaved like living things, chasing and playing between his fingertips.

In an instant, countless sparks flashed and coalesced into a tiny fire‑mouse that appeared in the youth's hand.

The youth laughed softly; the fire‑mouse happily ran up his arm, from this hand to his shoulder, then to the other hand, tumbled over, and swiftly climbed to his crown, igniting two strands of his pale yellow hair.

"Ah‑ya!" the youth cried out, frantically slapping his burning yellow hair with both hands.

The fire‑mouse vanished, leaving a bald patch the size of a teacup lid on the youth's scalp; amid curling blue smoke, he frowned and smiled at a group of children aged five to six up to eleven or twelve.

The children laughed heedlessly, doubling over with giggles; obviously the youth's burned‑off hair was a source of great amusement for them.

"Ah, just a slip of the hand." The youth shook his head and sighed: "Whether you believe it or not, my nickname is the Demon Chapter King—I'm actually a quite powerful ancient mage…"

"A mage who can't even knead a single fireball. Mo Zhang older brother, you are a mage who can't even knead a single fireball." A thin, slight girl who is a bit better than skin and bones pointed at the youth and laughed loudly.

The youth laughed embarrassedly, "hehe" laughing as he sat back on the ground.

Although embarrassed, he still arrogantly raised his head and loudly defended: "Who says an ancient mage must knead fireballs? Isn't anything else acceptable? For example, lightning, icy wind, wind blades..."

A group of children and the youth laughed and played together into a mess.

The aroma of the roasted meat from Wu Tie's side drifted over, and several children couldn't help but glance over here.

But they quickly turned their heads away, desperately trying not to look over at Wu Tie and them again.

Wu Tie looked at these children, fell silent for a moment, then suddenly remembered those dwarf little fellows of the Wu Family Shibao who were so hungry they licked moss.

He held the Wu Maiden, carried that huge beast-skin bag holding at least two hundred pounds of rock python meat segments, walked slowly to the youth's side, and gently placed the bag beside him.

"The magic trick was wonderful, Ancient Mage Sir. Watching a magic performance requires payment; that's only right." Wu Tie said softly: "This is the fee I should pay."

The youth stared, his light-blue eyes obviously flashing a streak of incredulous shock.

He looked at Wu Tie, then at the huge beast-skin bag, his lips moved, and an extremely brilliant smile quietly blossomed: "Thank you."

He looked at the Wu Maiden and softly said: "This is yours…"

"Daddy!" the Wu Maiden threw her arms around Wu Tie's neck.

The youth looked astonished at Wu Tie's youthful face, gave a dry laugh: "Your daughter? She also needs sufficient food."

"Obtaining food is not difficult for us." Wu Tie patted the youth's shoulder, then quietly retreated to the fire side.

The youth fell silent for a while, then laughed.

He stood up, straightened his right hand, gracefully flung his right hand to the left side of his body, made a deep bow, and offered a salute to Wu Tie.

Wu Tie's pupils contracted slightly; well, in the knowledge inherited from Old Iron, this is a court etiquette of some ancient nobility.

I never expected such an ancient tradition to still be preserved.

This youth, his background is quite interesting.

Wu Tie raised his right hand and lightly touched his left chest.

Skewers of roasted meat sizzled 'hiss' beside the fire, the meat aroma wafted through the camp; the children beside King Mo Zhang each took a small skewer and nibbled at it bit by bit with their teeth, reluctant to just eat it all.

More roasted meat was distributed by King Mo Zhang to the elders and children in the troupe.

Over two hundred pounds of snake meat, each person could only get a small piece, but everyone got a share.

Wu Tie quietly watched the scene before him; the feeling this drifting troupe gave him was not bad.

In the passage, the False Sun did not rise, but everyone's bodies had already formed a strict biological clock; when the time came for the False Sun to rise, everyone rose from sleep and began to pack their belongings.

A woman in a loose robe and gray veil, escorted by several guards, slowly came before Wu Tie.

"Respected Mr. Wu Tie, you are a guest worthy of respect. I hope you may have a pleasant journey in our drifting troupe." The woman's voice was soft and delicate; she softly said: "You and your companions may walk in the middle of the procession; that is the safest and most comfortable position."

Wu Tie bowed slightly to the woman.

The convoy proceeded rustling; several rat people scouts, after gnawing a few pieces of roasted mushroom, spread their legs and ran to the front of the convoy to perform their duties.

The troop slowly set out; of the five troops that rested last night in this stone cave, only one headed for the Azure Wood Region, while the other four all marched toward the Great Dragon Region.

The four troops set out half a quarter-hour apart, spaced several li apart, advancing forward without interfering with each other.

Wu Tie sat on the back of a giant wolf spider, silently took out a few stalks of lava grass, kneaded them into a ball, and swallowed it.