135 A Strange Village

"I was never a saint to begin with, so why force that label upon me? What kind of sense does that make? Had I known, I should have properly questioned the old Taoist priest."

Li Xintian lay on the bed, his head resting on his clasped hands, muttering to himself.

"Forget it. I suppose I'll find out eventually. Time to sleep."

Li Xintian grabbed the quilt beside him and pulled it over his body.

The next day.

"Young Master Li, it is time for me to take my leave. May we meet again if fate permits."

Zhao Longjie finished packing his belongings. Accompanied by his disciple, Hei Yue, and his nephews, Bian Yiyuan and Bian Yihe, he came to bid farewell to Li Xintian.

"Very well. I wish you a safe journey, Daoist Zhao," Li Xintian said, cupping his hands in a formal salute.

"Daoist Zhao, travel safely," Chen Zishan added, also cupping his hands.

"Thank you. I wish the same for you both. May you return to your homes soon," Zhao Longjie replied with a Taoist bow.

"Farewell, everyone." Hei Yue, Bian Yiyuan, and Bian Yihe followed suit, echoing his sentiments.

"Take care, all of you. Should you ever encounter difficulties, you may come to the Li Estate in Shuiwen County; I will certainly do my best to assist you," Li Xintian said, no longer attempting to persuade them to stay.

"Daoist Zhao, and everyone else, please take care," Hu Qiuyan said, offering a slight curtsy.

"Come to think of it, I am ashamed that I have yet to apologize to you, Miss. I hope you can forgive me," Zhao Longjie said, bowing slightly as he recalled his past actions.

"Daoist Zhao, I do not blame you. Please, take care on your way," Hu Qiuyan quickly replied.

"Very well. Farewell." With that, Zhao Longjie turned and departed.

Bian Yiyuan followed behind Zhao Longjie, silently steeling his resolve to work harder at mastering the Taoist arts.

"Daoist Zhao, why did he leave already?" Chen Zishan had been busy organizing items inside the mortuary and was surprised to see Zhao Longjie leaving as he emerged.

"It is fine, Uncle. We should be on our way as well; we have already been delayed here for several days," Li Xintian said.

"Very well then. Everyone, let us set off!" Chen Zishan called out in his booming voice, drawing a ripple of laughter from the group.

Li Xintian’s path led in the opposite direction to that of Zhao Longjie.

Half a day into their journey, Li Xintian looked up at the sky. Indeed, thick layers of dark clouds obscured the sun entirely. This meant their schedule would likely be pushed back by at least a day.

"Dark clouds blocking the sun... it seems there will be a heavy downpour tomorrow."

Li Xintian could no longer feel the sweltering heat of the sun.

Sure enough, as evening approached, the sky turned a murky grey, signaling an impending storm. Strong winds whipped across the road, causing the trees on either side to bend low. Experienced travelers noted that a heavy rain would likely begin within the hour and would not let up for quite some time.

Continuing through the rain was out of the question; beyond the concern of whether the horses and the people could withstand the downpour, the mountain roads were muddy and treacherous—a single slip could lead to carriages overturning, which was far too dangerous.

"Stop for a moment. I will check the map to see if there is any nearby place where we can take shelter until this storm passes."

Knowing that the roads were mere dirt and mud, Li Xintian pulled out a map and began to examine it.

The caravan quickly began to assemble. Several servants walked to the front to signal a halt, while others were sent out to scout the nearby area for a place to shelter from the wind and rain.

Just then, a carriage driver stepped forward to report, "Young Master, I passed through here a few years ago. I recall a remote little village nearby called Xishui Village, which survives by the Xishui River. While the village is not large, it should be enough to accommodate our caravan for a temporary stay."

"Xishui Village?"

Li Xintian looked up, but noticed that the driver of his own carriage was frowning, looking as though he had something to say but dared not speak.

"This Xishui Village is... a bit strange," the driver whispered once Li Xintian asked him.

"I have heard that there is a River God in the Xishui River, and every year, the village must sacrifice a young girl to him. If they do not, the god stirs up trouble... Because of this, many of the villagers have moved away, and outsiders rarely visit; it is as if the place is cut off from the world. We rarely hear any news from that village anymore."

"Based on the customs, if I recall the timing correctly, their sacrifice should have taken place just a few days ago..."

"Oh?"

A thought stirred within Li Xintian.

This setup felt strangely reminiscent of a textbook lesson from back on Earth.

He vaguely remembered a story where a newly appointed magistrate discovered that the people under his jurisdiction had a custom of sacrificing virgins to a river god. The official boldly debunked the superstition and threw the shamaness into the river—a story with excellent educational value, worthy of celebration and praise!

However, he dared not blindly copy that approach, assuming it was merely feudal superstition at work.

After all, in this world, ghosts and spirits truly existed. Who was to say there wasn’t a genuinely cruel River Lord oppressing the common folk?

Still, he assumed that since they were merely passing through, they wouldn't get entangled in anything strange. Moreover, with the storm about to break, if they didn't find shelter, the entire group would end up drenched.

"Let’s go. To Xishui Village!"

Li Xintian led the caravan, moving slowly as they changed direction to follow the driver's lead.

Xishui Village was indeed not far. Following the small path along the river, the caravan traveled for a short while before they spotted a crooked stone tablet standing by the road, mostly covered by wild, overgrown weeds, with no sign of anyone tending to it.

"Xishui Village..."

Li Xintian, riding on horseback, gazed at the stone tablet as it fell behind them, whispering the words aloud.

After another moment, the outline of a small village became vaguely visible in the distance. Judging by the gloomy sky, they should still make it in time.

But just then, an unexpected hitch occurred, and the entire group came to a halt.

"What happened?" Li Xintian asked, puzzled.

"It seems the villagers are refusing to let us enter. They have already sent someone to negotiate," the driver replied honestly.

Li Xintian dismounted, his brow furrowed.

Refusing entry? That was certainly not good news.

The sky had begun to drizzle with a fine, misty rain. If they delayed any longer, they would surely be caught in the downpour.

There was no time to waste. He turned to see Chen Yuanwen summon a servant, give him a few instructions, and send him ahead.

"Cousin, do not worry. Your cousin has his own ways," Chen Yuanwen said with a smile as he walked over to Li Xintian.

Li Xintian nodded. Through the misty rain, his gaze fell upon the high river embankment not far off, where a platform about two meters high, built from mud bricks and tiles, stood abruptly. Many bamboo poles were stuck into it, wrapped in white paper and red cloth, swaying slightly in the intensifying wind.

"What is that?" Li Xintian asked casually.

"That is the altar," the driver replied, his eyes filled with a deep, unspoken dread. "It is an altar that has stood in Xishui Village for many years. That is where they cast the sacrifices into the river..."

Although he did not say it explicitly, it was clear the sacrifice was a pure, young girl.

"Such a sacrifice must be the work of an evil god. Why have no heroes of justice come to slay the demon?"

Thinking of the many young girls who had been sacrificed alive there, Li Xintian’s heart sank, and he felt a tightness in his chest.

As they spoke, the caravan suddenly began to move again. He learned that the village chief, having been paid, had personally cleared the path and scolded the group of villagers who were blocking the way.

This led Li Xintian to lament silently, "Indeed, money can even make the devil turn the millstone!"

However, he also learned why the villagers had been blocking them.

Unexpectedly, the triennial sacrifice held a short while ago had been disrupted by an outsider. The villagers feared the River God’s wrath and were attempting to make amends while refusing to accept any more outsiders.

The village chief’s personal reception made the visit much easier; at the very least, no one dared to defy the chief's authority.

Upon entering the village, the ground was pitted and muddy from the recent rains, making the carriage ride bumpy. The air was filled with a faint, stagnant stench, like that of a pool of dead water, which left those in the carriage feeling quite uncomfortable.

Feeling inexplicably irritable, Li Xintian took another look at the village.

It was as desolate as expected. On both sides of the road stood crooked mud-brick houses, low and dilapidated, with wild green vines creeping through the broken tiles on the roofs. Because of the caravan’s passage, one could occasionally hear the sound of whimpering, dog-like barks.

Even in broad daylight, one rarely saw villagers walking about. Aside from the villagers and the chief who had guided them, there was not another soul in sight.

Li Xintian looked around curiously, and by chance, he caught a glimpse of a pale child’s face through a half-open window. The child was staring at them with an expressionless, cold gaze.

He suddenly realized something. He turned his head to look at the houses one by one, and sure enough, he could vaguely see unsettling, cold eyes watching from behind door cracks and windows. It was quite eerie at first glance.

Both children and adults were the same, as if they viewed the newcomers as the source of their impending doom.

Recalling what he had heard earlier, they were likely terrified that contact with them would anger the River God and bring down punishment.

"A pity for this Xishui Village," the driver at the front remarked, looking at the village with interest. His words carried a hint of emotion and sighing. "They say that decades ago, before the legend of the River God, this place was quite prosperous thanks to river trade. The village used to be very lively. Who could have foreseen that decades later it would decline to this state, so sparsely populated?"

Li Xintian nodded slightly, lost in thought.

The group was eventually arranged to stay in a larger courtyard. It was usually used for loading goods and firewood, but since it was spacious enough, they made it their temporary lodging.

Meanwhile, the village chief had already ordered a few tables of food and wine prepared to warmly host these generous guests.

Perhaps due to a difference in taste, although the dishes looked quite decent, they all had a salty, fishy flavor, mixed with a muddy, gamey odor that made them difficult to swallow.

Li Xintian, at least, could not eat it. He quietly set down his chopsticks, thinking it would be better to wait and eat the dry rations his caravan brought, or perhaps let the Flying Tiger King go hunting.

Glancing at the others, he saw they were also struggling to eat, setting down their chopsticks without a word, though they did not show any outward dissatisfaction.

Having spent a long time in the business world, Chen Linqing and the others were skilled at dealing with people. They spent some money to add two more tables of wine and food, inviting the village chief and the other young men who had helped earlier to sit and eat with them. This move successfully dispelled the hostility in their eyes, and the previously rigid, unwelcoming attitude softened considerably.