Chapter 387: Sedan Chair

Chapter 387: The Litter

To consult a fortune-telling hexagram, yet this small fishing village on Xing Island offered no bones to draw upon. Li Huowang had no choice but to use his own—fortunately, after the divination, the bone remained unbroken.

After using his arm bone for the reading, Li Huowang carefully reinserted the cracked bone back into his flesh.

"The next step is to find where the bone’s fissure lies..." he murmured to himself as he walked toward the seaside fishing village.

The entire settlement was not large; a few steps would bring him face-to-face with someone he knew.

He saw a woman with a sallow complexion, accompanied by her daughter, buying steamed buns. After much hesitation, she bought herself a whole grain bun and gave her daughter half a red sugar bun.

Watching this poor mother and daughter, Li Huowang's heart softened. He gently tugged at the reins, guiding his carriage closer.

"Sir..." the woman bowed deeply upon seeing him, as if remembering something, her expression filled with trembling reverence.

The little girl, meanwhile, shyly threw herself into her mother’s arms, too embarrassed to look up.

"Why have you brought your daughter here to Xing Island?" Li Huowang asked, eyeing her.

"I... my husband died, and I came here to seek refuge with relatives..." the woman stammered, unable even to meet his gaze, her posture humble beyond measure.

Li Huowang pondered for a moment, then reached into his chest and pulled out the money he had won from playing cards. He shoved it into the girl’s hands.

"Though the child is small, a meal—half a red sugar bun—isn’t enough. Take it and buy her something to eat."

Before the woman could react, Li Huowang had already driven off in his carriage toward the inn.

The talismanic divination was both useful and useless. It couldn’t control timing—it was all about waiting for fate to knock on the door. But now, he could use this opportunity to rest and recover before facing whatever danger lay ahead.

At the inn, everything remained unchanged: wash, eat, sleep.

Li Huowang had thought he’d have to go through great trouble to find Zhuge Yuan—but to his surprise, someone had found him first.

As Li Huowang drifted into slumber, he suddenly opened his eyes wide, kicking the steamed bun beside his bed. Someone was outside.

“Bang bang bang!” The door was suddenly pounded on. “Is Master Li here? Master Li?”

The voice outside was thin and high-pitched—half male, half female—and it grated on the ears.

Quickly dressing, Li Huowang cracked open the door just enough to peer out, alert and wary.

The visitor wore blue silk, a jade pendant at his waist, clearly well-off. A thin mustache curled beneath his nose, yet he had painted his face with powder. Moonlight fell across his face, making it pale as paper.

Li Huowang felt something odd about him, though he couldn’t quite say what.

“Are you Master Li?” the man bent low, speaking in a calm tone. “My master has been waiting for you. Please come with me.”

“Who is your master?” Li Huowang’s hand had already gripped the hilt of his Purple Grass Sword.

“My master is named Zhuge, Yuan, known by the pen name Chenmo, the Storyteller. Didn’t you just cast a hexagram for him earlier today? He knew you were coming.”

Li Huowang’s heart skipped a beat. He had divined for Zhuge Yuan, and the man had instantly known who had done it—and even pinpointed his location.

Clearly, it was unwise to use such divinations recklessly against those with strong powers. If enemies learned one’s whereabouts, it could be fatal.

Seeing that Li Huowang didn’t respond, the man pressed on. “Master Li, are you coming or not? If not, I’ll go tell my master.”

“Lead the way.” With a creak, Li Huowang pushed open the door and followed him downstairs. The inn was deathly quiet, save for their footsteps.

Outside, under silver moonlight, a pristine white litter stood before him. Four black-clad bearers stood motionless like statues, their presence eerie.

“Master Li, please board the litter,” the man said with a smile, pulling back the curtain with his bony fingers. “My master’s residence is far away—we must hurry.”

Li Huowang frowned, unease rising in his chest.

But recalling the spindle Zhuge Yuan had given him, and the gentle tone of their conversation, he finally stepped into the litter.

With a creak, the bearers lifted it, and it began to move swiftly forward.

“How long will it take us to reach Master Zhuge?” Li Huowang asked, but received no reply. When he lifted the curtain to look out, the man was gone.

Not only had he vanished, but so had the four bearers. Their limbs seemed jointless, moving rigidly, eyes fixed straight ahead, blinking not at all.

This unnatural sight made Li Huowang’s suspicions flare. “What’s going on? Could they not be sent by Zhuge Yuan?”

As Li Huowang stood ready, the world outside the litter began to shift. The layered black tiles of the fishing village faded, replaced by dark green bamboo leaves.

Between towering, ink-green bamboo poles, something faint yet ominous seemed to lurk.

“Hahaha…” A giggling sound echoed from deep within the bamboo grove, but when Li Huowang listened closely, it turned out to be nothing more than wind through the leaves.

He sat swaying in the litter, moving deeper into the bamboo forest.

The journey lasted long—two full hours—and still, he was lost in the bamboo.

“This forest is truly vast,” he muttered, when suddenly his pupils contracted sharply.

“Wait! That stone—I’ve seen it recently. You haven’t moved at all—you’re just circling! Stop the litter!”

But the black bearers didn’t stop—they moved faster.

With a clang, the Purple Grass Sword unsheathed itself, slicing a hole in the bottom of the litter. He dove inside with both feet together.

But as soon as he landed, the ground covered in yellowed bamboo leaves seemed to stretch like tough hide, quickly swallowing him.

Li Huowang slashed his sword horizontally, sending a horrifying scream echoing through the air. The earth erupted in a gush of thick blood, then collapsed.

Gasping, Li Huowang stood in the bamboo grove. No more white litter, no more bearers—only him, alone.

“What are they? How did they know I divined for Zhuge Yuan? Could the evil spirits of this island have taken form?”