Volume One: The Dragon Rises from the Wilds Chapter Forty-Five: Xiangshui Village

In the misty light of dawn, two carriages departed from the town of Laitu.

At the head of the group, leading the way on horseback, was Yuan Jiu. His temperament was much like Mo Can’s—silent and reticent—but even more sullen, so much so that even in broad daylight, there was a chilling gloom about him.

Close behind followed the carriage driven by Mo Can and Ji Yan.

Manager Kuang did not show his face, hiding with his family in the carriage. As usual, Yu Ye lingered at the rear, but this time he kept his distance. He had no wish to approach Ji Yan’s carriage, for inside was someone who loathed him, and whom he loathed in turn.

On Ji Yan’s carriage, the goods had been neatly rearranged, covered with a soft animal skin mat. Pan Yuan sat atop it, his left leg wrapped in bandages, leaning back against a wooden chest, a wine jar in hand, his coarse, fleshy face twisted in a triumphant and brazen grin.

It was said he had intended to rest a couple of days before continuing, but grew dissatisfied with the shabby inn and the poor food and drink, and so urged Manager Kuang to leave Laitu at once. Having rendered great service, Pan Yuan’s wishes were naturally obeyed without question.

The next town, however, was far off—over three hundred li away. Thus, before dawn had broken, the eight travelers set off hurriedly by carriage and horseback.

Yu Ye rode with his eyes half-shut, as if still half asleep, his body swaying gently with his horse’s steady trot.

Ji Yan had conveyed Manager Kuang’s words to him, asking whether he wished to stay or leave. Of course, he had not thought twice and followed along. Yet, though Manager Kuang could have spoken to him directly, he chose to communicate through others—perhaps to avoid suspicion, or perhaps out of genuine dislike.

Suddenly, the wind whistled past his face.

Yu Ye tilted his head just in time as a wine jar flew past his ear and smashed with a crash on the road behind him.

Laughter and curses erupted at once: “Ha! Missed the little bastard—”

Yu Ye glanced up.

A few paces ahead, Pan Yuan grabbed another wine jar from the carriage. He took a long drink, then jeered, “What are you looking at? I threw it at you, brat!”

Mutual aversion—such was the feeling between them.

Yu Ye rolled his eyes and ignored him.

But Pan Yuan, emboldened by drink, continued his tirade—

“I could tell right away—you’re young, but devious. I took a blade for you, saved your wretched hide, and you won’t even lend me your horse. Ungrateful little wretch…”

Yu Ye’s brow furrowed, his expression turning colder.

To be insulted at dawn for no reason—who could keep their temper?

Pan Yuan cursed on: “Best you crawl home, or I’ll wring your neck myself!” He flourished the wine jar, his gestures full of menace, malice, threat, and contempt.

But at the mention of “home,” Yu Ye suddenly understood.

Pan Yuan was cunning—this was a ploy to drive him away. If a quarrel broke out, he, the freeloading outsider, would have no choice but to slink off in disgrace.

Hmph!

Yu Ye gave a short grunt, curled his lip, and closed his eyes, enduring Pan Yuan’s abuse as though he hadn’t heard it. Still, he was young; though he restrained his anger, resentment simmered inside.

The distance from Laitu to the next town—Grasswood—was over three hundred li. With their current pace, they couldn’t hope to arrive in a day. Pan Yuan, however, urged them on without pause, claiming his leg injury was unbearable and that he urgently needed a skilled healer.

Yet before the hour of dusk, as they passed a small village, Manager Kuang suddenly ordered a halt, saying that the long journey had aggravated Madam Kuang’s old ailment and she was suffering from a terrible headache. They would have to spend the night here.

Pan Yuan was caught off guard, and though he wanted to object, he could not refuse. Instead, he vented his nameless frustration by unleashing another round of curses at Yu Ye.

The village nestled right beside the main road, with some twenty or thirty households. Its name was a curious one—Resonance Spring.

They found lodging at a house by the village entrance, consisting of two stone cottages. The owners, an elderly couple, gave up one cottage for Manager Kuang’s family. The rest of the group bedded down in the open space before the house.

That evening was sultry and oppressive.

Madam Kuang, feeling unwell, retired early with Cai’er, instructing Ji Yan to bring several chests into the cottage—likely her personal belongings. Manager Kuang and Pan Yuan ate a hasty supper and then retreated indoors, locking the door behind them.

Ji Yan spread a mat at the door and sat resting with Mo Can. He was clearly exhausted; before long, he lay back and began to snore. He kept his hatchet at his side, clearly wary of any mishap.

Pan Yuan and Yuan Jiu sat several paces off in a cool, breezy spot. They too had a mat, a small wooden table in front of them with some leftover pastries and a half-finished jar of wine. Pan Yuan, usually so brash, seemed somewhat sullen, wanting to hurl abuse but unable since his target had slipped away. He cast a resentful look at the cottage where Manager Kuang was staying, then at Mo Can and Ji Yan stationed before the door, and shook his head grimly at Yuan Jiu before spitting on the ground.

A round moon climbed the horizon as dusk deepened. In the dim light, a dog romped through the yard, and soon someone appeared on the path, balancing a shoulder pole with water buckets.

Seeing this, Pan Yuan perked up, grabbed his wine jar and took a swig, ready to bellow more insults—then, seeing who it was, merely grunted in annoyance.

From the neighboring house emerged the elderly couple, waving the dog away and greeting the water carrier.

“No need for that, young man,” the old man said.

“Don’t stand on ceremony, uncle, auntie!” replied Yu Ye, who had just finished helping Ji Yan settle the carriages and then volunteered to fetch water for the hosts. The couple was elderly and frail; helping them with chores was simply in his nature.

The kitchen was in a straw shed to the left of the house. Yu Ye filled the two water jars there, set down the yoke and buckets, scooped some water with a ladle, and took a sip—only to spit it out immediately.

The well water he’d carried had a faintly fishy, bitter taste.

“Heh, outsiders can’t stomach the well water here,” the old man chuckled, as if expecting this, and fetched two stools from the shed. The old woman sat on a stone at the door, playing with her dog. Though their hair was white and their faces lined with age, both were healthy and robust.

Yu Ye took a stool and sat.

With nothing better to do, he chatted with the couple. He learned their only son had died young, leaving the two to rely on each other. Life was hard, but also peaceful and quiet. Yu Ye himself was orphaned early and now wandered alone. The pain of losing loved ones was something they shared, though perhaps each coped in their own way.

“Is the well water really so hard to drink?”

“The villagers are used to it—it doesn’t taste strange to them. Outsiders, though, can’t stomach it and prefer river water for their horses and cooking.”

“And why not dig a new well?”

“Heh, to you it’s a bitter well, but to us, it’s sweet as nectar!”

“Oh?” As Yu Ye chatted, he glanced around.

Ji Yan was fast asleep, snoring. Mo Can sat with his head bowed, half-dozing. Pan Yuan was still drinking and muttering curses. Yuan Jiu lay curled up, watching silently from a distance.

“The well water may taste strange, but it’s said to work wonders. If any of the village elders or children fall ill with sores or fever, a few sips of the water cures them. My wife and I are still sharp of hearing and sight, perhaps because we’ve drunk the well water all these years!”

“Really? How curious!”

“You may not know, young man, but the name Resonance Spring comes from that very well!”

“Is that so?”

“Tell me the story, uncle!” Yu Ye urged, his youthful curiosity piqued.

The old man, pleased to have someone to talk to, began:

“No one knows exactly when it began—perhaps a hundred years ago or more. Every full-moon night, the well water starts bubbling and gurgling. No one in the village knows why, but they came to call it Resonance Spring. Over time, the village itself took on the name.”

“So that’s the origin!”

“And tonight, by coincidence, is a full-moon night. If you hear strange sounds at midnight, don’t be afraid, and don’t pay it any mind. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Thank you for the warning, uncle.”

“You’re young to be journeying so far from home. Are your parents well?”

“They’ve both passed on.”

“Oh, forgive my blunder,” the old man apologized, visibly regretful. Perhaps wanting to comfort Yu Ye, or perhaps lost in his own memories, he slowly rose, leaning on his knees, and said, “Ah, in this life, all we have are our hopes and dreams. When those are gone, we are gone too.”

His wife rose to help him, the two moving together in perfect harmony.

Yu Ye watched the couple’s retreating backs, falling silent.

A little spotted dog wagged its tail and came to him, panting affectionately.

Yu Ye glanced down and smiled.

This was the old couple’s dog. After following him as he fetched water, it now regarded him as family.

A dozen paces away, beneath the old tree, six horses were tethered. Not far off stood a stone millstone. Southward led to the main road at the village entrance; northward, a path into the heart of the village.

Yu Ye walked to where the horses were tied, took his sword from the saddlebag, and went over to the millstone, brushing off the dust and sitting down on his robe.

The little dog followed, settling obediently nearby.

Yu Ye set his sword down, crossed his legs, and calmed his mind. From his bosom, he took out a spirit stone—the only one he possessed. Precious as it was, he meant to use it to the fullest, for its value lay in its use. In the days ahead, he intended to use it to cultivate his strength.

Silently, Yu Ye began to circulate his energy, absorbing the spiritual power within. Even as he breathed and meditated, his thoughts wandered to the art of crafting Armor-Breaking Talismans. He had spent hours practicing yesterday, using up all the talisman paper he’d bought, but had achieved little. Yet all beginnings are difficult, and with persistence, skill would come. Once they reached the next town, he would buy more talisman paper and continue his efforts.

Unnoticed, the moon climbed high.

In the stillness of the night, a faint sound of water echoed from afar.

The little dog sprang up, darting into the straw kitchen to hide. The horses tethered beneath the tree grew restless and uneasy, as if startled.

Yu Ye exhaled, slowly opened his eyes.

Mo Can, Ji Yan, Pan Yuan, and Yuan Jiu—all resting before the cottage—awoke at that moment, but none moved hastily; instead, gripping their weapons, they looked warily around.

Yu Ye swung his legs to the ground, seized his sword—