Chapter 5: Chapter Five: The Fortune-Telling Old Daoist

At this moment, the wild boar, its life in danger, struggled to its feet, glaring at Ning Ze with fierce eyes, the two locking gazes. In the distance, Wang Pangdun immediately brandished his saber and rushed over; Liu Lü'er was frantic with worry, her arrows flying wide.

Ning Ze's heart leapt into his throat; before Wang Pangdun could arrive, the wild boar charged him with savage force. Its massive bulk, even swaying slightly, was more than Ning Ze's frame could withstand.

Ning Ze half-crouched; in the blink of an eye, he sidestepped left, dodging the boar's charge, then took two quick steps in pursuit and yanked the saber out of the boar's body. Scalding blood sprayed out, and Ning Ze felt a few searing streaks on his face.

The wild boar twisted its head and charged again. He couldn't run, couldn't escape — running meant being caught and killed. Ning Ze gripped the saber with both hands; he couldn't be afraid. Facing the oncoming boar, he slashed horizontally with the blade. The saber knows no fear — the phrase flashed through his mind as if guided by ghosts and gods. The first slash: the blade cleaved into the boar's head, but Ning Ze was also flung away by the boar's momentum.

Ning Ze's head buzzed a little. When did I get this formidable? Damn, the old man's saber art really has something to it.

Liu Lü'er and Wang Pangdun hurried to Ning Ze's side. Ning Ze spat out several mouthfuls of fresh blood. "What a loss — your grandpa got injured by a dazed wild boar; today the goose pecked the hunter. Quick! Go finish off the boar with another slash; if it gets up again I'm done for."

"Brother Ning, the wild boar's already dead! That slash of yours split the boar's head open!" Wang Pangdun obediently gave the boar's neck another slash, examining the head wound — the cut ran from ear to snout, nearly cleaving it in two.

"Hurry and clean up; the stench of blood is too heavy, we can't stay long. Pangdun, you handle it. Look at the sky — we won't make it back to the village today. Help me to the bundles; I brought some medicine."

Pangdun hid the boar meat away, and Liu Lü'er supported Ning Ze to a nearby cave entrance.

The mountain forest at night was very quiet, starlight diffusing with a hint of hazy, captivating beauty. Beneath the faint darkness, who knew how much bloodshed the forest concealed; howls from the depths made one's heart tremble with fear.

The campfire flickered; the fatty boar meat roasted with a sizzling hiss, oil popping. With the seasonings from the bundles sprinkled on top, Wang Pangdun's saliva nearly dripped to the ground.

Ning Ze leaned against Liu Lü'er, his face somewhat pale. Thankfully the final slash had killed the boar; the injuries weren't too severe. Old Ge Tou's medicine was actually reliable.

"Pangdun, wipe it off quick — your drool's on the meat. Sprinkle some more salt and we'll eat. Your grandpa needs a good replenishment." Liu Lü'er had been looking at Ning Ze with heartache, but at these words she couldn't help swallowing her saliva.

"A few little brats, you sure know how to enjoy yourselves — such fragrant roast meat, tsk tsk tsk."

"Who? I wonder which senior it is. We few little brats are playing in the mountains, resting here for a moment. If we've disturbed you, please forgive us." Ning Ze sat up, hand gripping the saber, eyes signaling Wang Pangdun to be ready.

A disheveled old Daoist walked out of the cave entrance, leaning on a divination banner bearing only the two characters "Fortune-Telling". In this desolate wilderness, a fortune-telling Daoist suddenly appearing — however strange it might be, even travelers wouldn't take this path.

"You're quite cautious; the traps outside the cave nearly caught this old man. Which bastard came up with such a vicious thing? No need to worry — this old man came on foot to rest, smelled the meat fragrance, and came to beg a bite." The old Daoist sat down with brazen familiarity, his grime-covered hands reaching for the roast meat, his Daoist robe stained with grease. Ning Ze decisively stopped the fortune-telling old Daoist's movement — if he grabbed the meat, could it still be eaten?

"Hey, old Daoist, this is food your grandpa risked his life for. At least get the owner's permission?"

The fortune-telling old Daoist brushed aside Ning Ze's saber tip, rubbed his hands, and said with thick-skinned shamelessness:

"Hehe, used to it, used to it — it's just that the meat you young gentlemen roasted smells too good, couldn't help wanting a taste! The old Daoist won't eat your meat for nothing; how about I divine a hexagram for each of you later?"

Ning Ze rolled his eyes in annoyance, but one doesn't strike a smiling face (thick-skinned). He sliced off a piece of roast meat with the saber and handed it to the fortune-telling old Daoist, signaling Pangdun and Liu Lü'er to eat.

The fortune-telling old Daoist didn't mind the filth; he grabbed the meat and wolfed it down, muttering "delicious" — simply the world's best roast meat. Toward the end, the old Daoist nearly came to blows with Wang Pangdun, because the two were fighting over the meat. Ning Ze was injured and didn't eat much; Liu Lü'er stopped after a few bites, disgusted by the old Daoist's dirty hands touching everything.

The two rubbed their round bellies in satisfaction. The fortune-telling old Daoist narrowed his eyes, somehow producing a grass stem to pick his teeth with carefree ease.

"Fortune-teller, you've finished the meat. Whether you're a traveler or whatever, please excuse us — the three of us need to rest." Ning Ze issued an expulsion order; in truth, he had been on guard the whole time.

"This young brother, you must be the one who set the traps outside, right? Truly a bold, thick-skinned, vicious thing. No no no — bold, careful, and clever lad." The fortune-telling old Daoist saw Ning Ze's eyebrow twitch and hastily corrected himself.

"Don't be so guarded against the old Daoist; the old Daoist isn't a bad person. Isn't it that I haven't told your fortunes yet? Eating someone's food softens the mouth. Let me first look at this little fatty — let me feel his bones. Too fat, can't even see the bones."

Wang Pangdun turned to look at Ning Ze, eyes questioning. Ning Ze gave a slight nod, wanting to test what the fortune-telling old Daoist was up to. Before he could walk over, the old Daoist had already reached Wang Pangdun, leaving a black handprint with each pinch. Strongly suspected the old Daoist was retaliating for Pangdun fighting him over meat just now.

"Enough pinching? Another handprint and believe it or not I'll beat you." Wang Pangdun's face was pinched black; unable to endure, he shoved the old Daoist away and hurriedly wiped his face.

The fortune-telling old Daoist didn't joke around; instead his face turned dead serious, eyes narrowed as he stared at Wang Pangdun, as if trying to see through him.

"Little fatty, your fate is very hard and very noble — in the future you'll command armies and serve as minister, reaching the pinnacle of a subject's rank. Who would've thought, in these desolate mountains, to encounter someone with such a fate. Could this place be a hidden dragon land? No, no — there should be other issues."

The fortune-telling old Daoist ignored the three, mumbling wildly to himself, in a somewhat demonic-possessed state.

"Little girl, quick, let the old Daoist have a look."

"Ah! Who said you could look? Stay away from me, don't touch me."

Liu Lü'er immediately shouted, hurriedly hiding behind Ning Ze. Helpless, Ning Ze blocked the old Daoist from touching Liu Lü'er. This time, the fortune-telling old Daoist didn't directly feel her bones, but stared intently at Liu Lü'er's features.

"Wrong, wrong — just had a general-minister fate appear, how can there now be an immortal fate? Immortal with purple, a thread away from gold — what's going on? Supreme immortal fate. Wrong, definitely wrong. The great calamity is coming; how can such a person appear? Where exactly is the problem?"

The fortune-telling old Daoist went a bit manic; he couldn't figure it out — this contradicted his understanding. Finally he looked at Ning Ze, staring fixedly.

"There's definitely something wrong — this, what is this? Empty, nonexistent? You three, what kind of monsters are you?"

The fortune-telling old Daoist was completely dumbfounded — how could these three people be so speechless.

"Alright, alright, old Daoist, stop acting. You ate some roast meat and want to flatter your grandpa? No need for such exaggerated acting — acting like it's real." Ning Ze didn't believe a word of it, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Exactly. Pangdun's such a silly fool — how could he become a general-minister? And Brother Ning's right here — how is he nonexistent? Talking nonsense with eyes open. But you do have some discernment — this missy is indeed a fairy." Liu Lü'er boldly stepped out at this moment; the old Daoist's fortune-telling just now made her feel like great minds think alike.

Wang Pangdun instantly objected, jumping out to retort: "Bullshit. If you can become a fairy, how can this young master, so brave and mighty, not become a general-minister? Besides, which family's fairy is ugly and not strong at all?"

Ning Ze held his forehead, unable to watch these two. Others say a couple of sentences and they start infighting, incidentally exposing their own family's bottom line. Ning Ze didn't believe a single word of the fortune-telling old Daoist's — if fate determined the path, then everyone in the world would already have a fixed conclusion, with no room for change.

Suddenly the fortune-telling old Daoist spat out a mouthful of fresh blood from the corner of his mouth. The three were startled — things were going fine, why not follow the normal script? Then the old Daoist closed his eyes, sat cross-legged, and began circulating Qi to regulate his breathing.

The three stared at each other in bewilderment. Just telling a fortune and saying some nice words — how did it turn into vomiting blood acting? Ning Ze helplessly had to ask.

"Fortune-teller, what are you doing? We three believe you, okay? No need to vomit blood. How are you? Won't die, right? We three won't help collect your corpse."

The fortune-telling old Daoist barely finished regulating his breath, nearly vomiting another mouthful of blood from those words. He glared at Ning Ze in annoyance but didn't hold it against him, eyes darting back and forth among the three. Ning Ze and the others felt awkward under the stare.

After a long while, the fortune-telling old Daoist uttered an inexplicable sentence: "This is a world of 'strife'. All go strive!" As he spoke, the old Daoist clutched the divination banner tight, his tone carrying a sorrow, a nostalgia, and even more a regret — as if he wished he could lean on the banner and strive for the world himself.

Ning Ze didn't know what to say; he felt the old Daoist's words held deeper meaning, and could only offer comfort: "Fortune-teller, even if there's strife, it's not our turn. If the sky falls, tall people hold it up. If there's strife, it's them striving."

"Ning kid, that sounds nice. But look — just now I suffered backlash and vomited blood to tell your fortunes. One meal of roast meat was a huge loss. You have to compensate me — at least treat me to ten meals."

Ning Ze didn't respond. Sure enough, what just happened was an illusion. Mountains and rivers may change, but nature is hard to alter — the fortune-telling old Daoist is just a swindler for food and drink. The three turned away and lay down in the cave, not a one acknowledging him. A world of strife — probably just striving to swindle more food and drink.

"Hey hey hey, you three have any humanity? An old man vomited blood and no one cares about the old man? Morals decline, hearts aren't what they used to be. Such young age and already not learning good — not one knows to respect the elderly. In the middle of the night, an injured old man traveling mountain roads at night — if he runs into a fierce beast or giant insect, tomorrow he'll be a pile of bones. Alas, how bitter this old man's fate — even in old age he must abandon his corpse in the wilds..."

"Shut up. Stop your thick-skinned blathering. Fine, you can rest in the cave for the night." Ning Ze had a headache. The fortune-telling old Daoist was utterly shameless and wouldn't stop babbling. Simply the epitome of pushing his luck — helpless, he could only let him stay the night.