Chapter 343: Bai Lingmiao

Chapter 343: Bai Lingmiao

“Thump thump thump~! Thump thump thump~! Invoking the gods~~” In a modest earthen hut, rhythmic drumbeats echoed through the air.

“With a tiny drumstick measuring a foot and three inches, tied with rainbow ribbons above—thump thump thump~!”

“Press down once and it bends, point up once and it sharpens—thump thump thump~!”

“Strike once and it jolts thrice, strike three times and it jolts nine times—thump thump thump~!”

“The drum must sound the moment the whip strikes, and when the drum sounds, the spirits are summoned—thump thump thump~!”

Two women draped in red veils circled around a child whose face was as pale as death, continuously beating the drums.

Beside the child’s pillow lay a handful of earth, upon which three incense sticks were planted. The fragrant smoke swayed in the air, gradually forming several hazy characters.

Just as those characters were about to solidify, a sudden gust of wind flung open the closed window, scattering the wisps of smoke.

In an instant, the drumming grew urgent and rapid.

With her slender black nails, the Great Spirit traced a loop in midair. The white smoke that was about to dissipate now seemed to take on substance, forming a tangible white thread that she wrapped around her fingers.

Her sharp finger followed the thread's guidance and plunged deeply into the child’s thumb, three inches below.

Then, swiftly, she slashed downward. The tender palm of the child opened, revealing clumps of yellow matter writhing as if they were fish roe.

A pair of black scissors, bound with red thread, stabbed in, widening the wound further.

“Waaah waaah waaah~!” The child, who had just been ashen-faced, suddenly sat up crying, screaming for his father.

He didn’t notice that what emerged from his palm quickly turned into a pool of yellow liquid, mixing with his tears to soak the cool mat beneath him.

“My son! My son~!” When a bony, short man hurriedly entered from outside, he saw his nearly lifeless child now awake.

He rushed over, embracing the child who was crying profusely and sweating, then bowed deeply to Bai Lingmiao, who had just removed her red veil, expressing his gratitude.

Bai Lingmiao, her face bitter, shook her head and turned to leave.

“Madam, wait. I haven’t given you your payment yet.”

The man quickly rummaged through his belongings, selecting fifty copper coins from the bottom of a chest—uncoined, unblemished. He held them out to Bai Lingmiao with both hands.

Looking at the patch on her knees and the straw sandals on the floor, then at the bare walls of the house, Bai Lingmiao shook her head again, declining once more.

“Never mind, Uncle. Keep it for food for the child. His body is too thin.”

“No no no, Madam, you absolutely must take this. I’m the only heir of the Zhou family. If not for you saving my son’s life, I’d have no one left to care for me in old age!”

After several refusals, Bai Lingmiao finally accepted the fifty coins under pressure.

As Bai Lingmiao stepped out of the earthen hut, Chun Xiaoman, who had been practicing swordplay with one arm beside the carriage, quickly sheathed her blade and approached. “How was it, Miaomiao? Finished?”

Seeing her nod, Xiaoman smiled gently and took her hand, leading her toward the carriage. The wheels, caked with yellow mud, began to roll forward slowly, heading toward Niuxin Mountain.

“Thank you, Sister Xiaoman. You came all this way just to keep me company.”

Hearing Bai Lingmiao’s thanks from inside the carriage, Xiaoman quickly replied, “You’re being so formal. We’re sisters, aren’t we? If we run into bandits or something on the road, I can help.”

She pulled back the curtain slightly and glanced at Bai Lingmiao inside, sighing softly.

Of course, what she said was nonsense. Bai Lingmiao didn’t need protection. But seeing the persistent black mark around her fair neck, she couldn’t help but worry.

In theory, no matter how great the pain, time would heal it.

Like the memory of her parents selling her, now it no longer caused such sorrow.

But her sister wasn’t like that. Even after so long since Brother Li had left, she still looked lost and hollow.

She hadn’t smiled since then, her eyes empty, as if something essential had been taken from her.

The carriage kept moving until deep into the night before stopping.

They didn’t reach Niuxin Village. There were no other villages nearby. To return home, they would have to spend the night in the wilderness.

After hastily eating some dry rations, the two lay down on the carriage to rest.

Half-asleep, Xiaoman, uneasy, reached out and touched the girl’s face.

When she found the girl’s eyes were wide open, she let out a soft sigh. “Miaomiao, you can’t keep doing this. I know you’re sad, but after all this time, you have to move on.”

“People don’t come back to life. If you keep torturing yourself like this, they won’t be able to live either.”

Seeing no response, Xiaoman changed her approach and continued persuading, “Since we’re close sisters, I’ll speak plainly. I know Brother Li saved us, but let’s be honest—he’s not that good.”

“Even setting aside what he did, with your current situation, if you just announced a marriage proposal, countless people would line up to join your family.”

“Fat ones, thin ones—they’re all better than Li Huowang.”

“If you two parted ways, he’s the one who suffers. I’m serious—look at him, crazy and erratic, he’ll be a bachelor for life. No woman will ever want him.”

Though Xiaoman knew Brother Li wasn’t really like that, if she could make her sister feel better, even harsh words were justified. Besides, a few scoldings wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Bai Lingmiao curled up, like a baby in her arms. “Don’t talk... Sister Xiaoman…”

“You don’t have to marry that scoundrel either. You can be like me—a self-ordained woman! No matter what, you must pull yourself together instead of staying like this. You’re giving up on yourself!”

At the height of her emotion, Xiaoman grabbed her shoulders and shook her. But as she did, she heard a sobbing sound, and her heart softened instantly.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop talking. Don’t cry, go to sleep,” Xiaoman held her close, stroking her waist-length hair repeatedly.

No words were spoken through the night. The next morning, both women resumed their journey toward Niuxin Mountain as if nothing had happened the previous evening.

Under the pull of two strong horses, they arrived at the edge of Niuxin Village in the afternoon of the following day.

“Uncle Lu, going to perform a play?” Xiaoman called out to the approaching carriage.

Uncle Lu nodded with a smile, puffing on his tobacco pipe as he replied, “I’m going south to see if there are any farms. This country has money, and one trip might equal years of earnings.”

“Why are there only a few of you? Isn’t your youngest son still coming back?”