Bandit raids on wealthy estates were not uncommon.
"Smashing the kiln" was a term in the martial world, referring to attacking the grand compounds of the rich.
The Great Xuan Dynasty was just over a century old, and land consolidation had grown increasingly severe. Coupled with the power of clans, wealthy gentry and landlords were as numerous as hairs on an ox.
They feared neither the common folk nor the laws of the court, for the first thing any new local official did was to curry favor with them.
Someone like Li Huairen of Li Family Fort was still decent, at least abiding by some rules.
Li Yan had heard of gentry and tycoons who were tyrannical, oppressing the commoners, treating human lives as nothing. They could casually beat someone to death under the pretext of violating clan rules.
Local officials could hardly say a word against them.
These landlords and gentry feared only one thing: bandits.
Thus, they built high-walled compounds, hired guards for protection, and often donated to local martial societies, currying favor with martial world forces to secure themselves.
But generally, bandits rarely slaughtered entire villages.
Not out of kindness, but because they didn't want to kill the goose that laid the golden eggs.
The common folk were like grass, the gentry like sheep.
Where there was grass, there would surely be sheep.
A single raid could keep them comfortable for a while.
In some places, bandits and gentry even colluded, using the pretext of bandit suppression to periodically extort the people.
But this time, things were unusual.
A hidden eunuch from the capital, bandits from Qilu, and a village massacre…
No matter how you looked at it, this wasn't just about money.
At this thought, Li Yan's brows furrowed, and he pressed further, "Since you encountered bandits, why not report it to the officials in Xianyang City? How did you end up in such a state?"
"Sigh, don't even mention it…"
Sha Lifei's face was mournful. "The Daoist and I slipped back to Xianyang City at night, planning to report it, but someone had already beaten us to it."
"Who?"
"That concubine in red from Master Lu's household, along with the head guard Zhao Cheng, both in mourning clothes, weeping and wailing, claiming she was pregnant with Master Lu's child and begging the authorities to uphold justice…"
"Those treacherous bastards, clearly insiders colluding with the bandits."
"I was about to expose them, but the Daoist pulled me away, and we fled."
"We didn't dare take the main roads, crossing mountains and ridges to reach Li Family Fort."
It was clear Sha Lifei still harbored dissatisfaction and confusion.
Li Yan sneered, "The Daoist did the right thing. If you'd shown your face, you wouldn't have walked out of Xianyang City alive."
Sha Lifei was stunned. "Why's that?"
Wang Daoxuan, now full, let out a burp and shook his head with a sigh. "I didn't dare say much on the road, but that Master Lu was a eunuch!"
"A eunuch?!"
Sha Lifei was utterly shocked, sweat beading on his forehead.
Sly as he was, how could he not sense something amiss?
The village massacre was for silencing witnesses. Bandits wouldn't care about that—spreading the word would only boost their reputation. The only reason to keep it quiet was to avoid leaking something, and anything tied to a eunuch could only involve the imperial family…
The insiders were spared, meaning this matter wasn't over…
"What… what do we do now?"
At this thought, Sha Lifei felt his head swell.
Li Yan shook his head. "It's tricky. Several bandit groups acting together, plus out-of-province bandits, suggests a lot of players are involved. There might even be officials in on it. Getting caught up in this is a death sentence."
"Hide for now, wait until the dust settles."
"The village is full of prying eyes, so stay in the mountains. I'll bring you food. Wait until things calm down before scouting for news."
"Fine, that's the only way."
Sha Lifei and Wang Daoxuan exchanged glances, both resigned.
"Oh, by the way, Daoist, I have one more thing to ask of you…"
…
Back in the village, it was the hour of the rooster's crow.
Li Yan slipped back into his room, pretending to have just woken up. He fed the chickens, fetched water, lit the fire, and cooked a pot of corn porridge before practicing martial arts in the courtyard.
First, the ten foundational exercises, then combat techniques and blade forms.
It was as if nothing had happened the previous night.
But he knew everything had changed.
Successfully preserving his spirit marked his entry into the mysterious path. There was also the matter of investigating his father's death and the dark forces targeting his family—plenty to keep him busy.
But he couldn't leave yet, as his grandfather's condition was worsening.
After the curse on the plaque was lifted, his grandfather had been spirited for a while, but it didn't last. These days, he was increasingly lethargic, often sitting dazedly outside the door.
He'd sit there all day, sometimes even forgetting his own name.
Fortunately, Wang Daoxuan had arrived last night. The Daoist had some medical skills, better than the local quacks, so Li Yan asked him to visit today, disguised as a wandering physician.
"Healing with medicine, saving the world…"
Just after breakfast, a shout came from the village entrance—it was Wang Daoxuan.
Still in his tattered Daoist robe, he carried a small cloth banner in his left hand and shook a string of bells in his right, instantly drawing the attention of the village children, who crowded around.
In this isolated village, a stranger's arrival was a big deal.
His attire was deliberate.
The cloth banner was freshly made, torn from one of Sha Lifei's ragged shirts.
The string of bells, called a "tiger brace," came from a legend: the Medicine King, encountering a tiger seeking treatment for a bone stuck in its mouth, used a brace to keep the tiger's jaws open. After healing, the tiger became the Medicine King's mount.
In the martial world, those who practiced medicine on the streets were called "package pushers" in their slang.
The tiger brace was their hallmark.
As the saying went, "Gold changes to leather, all in one morning."
When Wang Daoxuan roamed the martial world, he'd often posed as a wandering physician when work was scarce, and he had the gear ready.
Li Yan, prepared in advance, immediately welcomed him and invited him into the house.
"I'm perfectly fine, eating and drinking well. What illness do I need to check for?"
The old man was clearly resistant, reluctant and unwilling.
Li Yan quickly coaxed him with a few kind words, and with Wang Daoxuan's warm demeanor, the old man, though still grim-faced, didn't protest further.
After a thorough examination, Wang Daoxuan smiled. "The old gentleman's health is fine, just a bit low in spirit due to age. Brew some sour jujube seeds, poria, and licorice in water, and drink it daily."
"I told you I'm not sick. What a fuss, wasting money."
Li Gui grumbled but was visibly relieved.
After a few words, he dozed off again, snoring softly.
But Li Yan had already sensed something was wrong. Outside, he pulled Wang Daoxuan to a secluded spot and asked worriedly, "Daoist, what's really going on?"
Wang Daoxuan's face grew grave as he stroked his beard and shook his head. "The old man indeed has no illness, just declining vitality due to age."
"But when I took his pulse, I secretly used my ability and found his soul is weak. That's likely the real reason."
"What happened?"
Li Yan fell silent, then briefly recounted the curse, puzzled. "The curse was already broken. Why is this still happening?"
Over these days, he had come to trust Wang Daoxuan, so he spoke candidly.
"That explains it."
Wang Daoxuan sighed. "Curses like this can be vicious, killing within days, or subtle, ruining families over time."
"The perpetrator likely didn't want to draw attention."
"This curse not only saps fortune, thinning out male heirs, but also invites trouble and malevolent spirits. The old man may not have noticed, but subconsciously, he's been fighting it."
"Perhaps the reason you've lived safely until now is because he's been protecting you."
"As an ordinary person, it's like drawing a bow without releasing the arrow, constantly draining his spirit and vitality. After the curse was broken, he may have felt relief for a time, but with his soul so depleted and his age, I'm afraid his time is short…"
Though Li Yan had suspected as much, his heart still trembled. "Is there any way to save him?"
"It's difficult."
Wang Daoxuan shook his head. "This isn't an illness but the approach of his natural limit. Spend as much time with him as you can."
"Remember, if he suddenly craves something cold, start preparing for the end."
"Why?"
"False yang rising outward, the last radiance before fading."
…
Just as he saw Wang Daoxuan out, a crowd of villagers stopped him.
Medical care was hard to come by in the village. For minor ailments like headaches or fevers, people relied on home remedies, only seeking city doctors when desperate.
With a rare wandering physician in town, they naturally wanted him to take a look.
Li Yan, in a foul mood, brushed them off.
Back in the house, seeing his grandfather still sleeping soundly, he sat in silence for a moment before heading to the stable at the back. He took the horse gifted by Master Lu and found Du Daya, the cart driver.
"Uncle Du, sell this horse for me and handle something."
"Tell me, Little Yan."
"Hire a theater troupe to perform in the village for a few days."
"But make sure to use a different pretext…"
…
Two days later, a theater troupe arrived in the village.
According to the troupe leader, he had once been a starving wanderer, saved by a meal from someone in Li Family Fort.
Now, he was repaying the kindness with a five-day performance.
The villagers didn't care who was behind it—they were just happy to watch. Such entertainment was rare, and even people from neighboring villages trekked over ten miles to join the fun.
Every night, Li Family Fort was ablaze with candlelight and buzzing with voices.
Say what you will, but Grandfather Li Gui was overjoyed.
The old man had few hobbies, but he loved watching plays.
Years ago, whenever he heard of a performance, he'd set out early with Li Yan on a donkey cart to watch. But in recent years, with his health declining and mobility limited, he'd been stuck at home.
He'd occasionally muse about going to Chang'an to see a play.
Li Yan couldn't bring in Chang'an's famous actors, but the local Lantian troupe was decent.
*The Investiture of the Gods*, *Shooting the Nine Suns*, *Tales of Loyalty*…
For days, the rugged tones of Qin opera echoed through the village.
The old man was in his element, and even after the troupe left, he kept belting out tunes at home:
*"The general's order shakes the mountains and rivers,*
*Men don armor and mount their steeds,*
*Young and old shout in unison,*
*Urging men and horses to the battlefront…"*
His pitch was off, but the tone was bold and desolate, as if recalling the days of iron and blood from his youth. Each time he finished, he'd stare blankly into the distance.
"Yan, why do I feel so hot? I want something cold…"
At those words, tears fell from Li Yan's eyes. Forcing a smile through his grief, he said, "Grandpa, wanting something cold is no trouble. Watch me get it for you."
Making ice with saltpeter wasn't rare; it was a known trick in the martial world.
Li Yan prepared some, mixing in malt sugar.
The old man ate heartily, then looked at him reluctantly.
"Boy, after I'm gone, you'll likely walk your father's path. It's fate, and I can't stop you. But there are a few words you must remember."
"Grandpa, tell me." Li Yan knelt, sobbing uncontrollably.
The old man gazed into the distance, his voice hoarse:
"Boy, from now on, you're on your own. Remember…"
"Better to be hated than pitied!"
"Better to be feared than bullied!"
*(End of Chapter)*