Chapter 33: The Bean Soldiers' First Battle

I stood up, clasped my hands in a salute to the group, and said with a smile, "Brothers, I have matters to attend to, so I must take my leave."

Wang Qiang paused, then stood up and blocked my path. "Little brother, we haven't spent enough time together yet. Why the rush?"

My heart skipped a beat. It was clear he was trying to stop me; they were targeting me. I looked toward Boss Zhang, knowing he was the one in charge.

"Little Wang, go see our young friend out. Exchange contact information with him as well. Let’s stay in touch; good friends should always keep in contact."

My body relaxed instantly. "Boss Zhang, we will stay in touch. I’ll certainly remember that favor."

Boss Zhang hesitated for a moment, then smiled. "Words spoken are like spilled water; they must be remembered."

I gave him a faint smile and turned to leave. My heart was pounding, terrified that I might hear Boss Zhang’s voice calling me back.

Wang Qiang followed me out of the hotel. Outside, he pulled out a cigarette with a smile and handed it to me. "Don't blame me, brother. You can see I’m someone who isn't the master of his own fate."

I took the cigarette and lit it, feeling much lighter. I smiled back. "The feeling is mutual. The air outside is definitely better."

Wang Qiang shook his head. "Brother, say no more. I owe you a favor too. I understood what you meant, but I’m trapped in these circumstances. At most, three years, and then I’m going home to retire."

We stopped talking. He gave me his and Boss Zhang’s numbers and took mine. Once Wang Qiang left, I felt even more relieved. Walking down the street, I felt like a prisoner who had just been released from his cage. I lit another cigarette before calling Li Si.

Li Si and Brother You arrived by car, and we headed straight for the Wan residence.

Old Wan saw me coming and rushed out to greet me. "Little Fang, you’re finally here. Xiao Lan’s condition is very bad."

"Old Wan, don't forget your old friends just because you've made new ones," Li Si said with a sour tone.

Old Wan was taken aback, then flushed. "How could that be? Little Si, is our friendship something that can be measured by words?"

"Alright, Old Wan, get back to what you were doing. I was just joking."

Old Wan, still flushed, ushered us inside. I didn't see Xiao Ping anywhere.

Old Wan led me to the second floor, to Xiao Lan’s room. As the door opened, I froze.

The room was swirling with black mist. Xiao Lan was wandering in circles, dazed and vacant, not even noticing our arrival. I realized that the ghost previously sealed within the vanity mirror was struggling to break free; black mist was pouring out, while Xiao Lan looked on, lost and terrified.

All the lights in the room were off, and the thickest curtains—layered double-thick—had been drawn, leaving the room in deep gloom. I was stunned. Xiao Lan’s spirit was in extreme turmoil; she seemed to know what was coming, struggling to resist but powerless to escape. The look of despair was etched across her face.

A murderous aura filled the room. Once we entered, Xiao Lan’s expression suddenly slackened. She was released from her terror, and a strange energy radiated from her—it felt as if everything was coming to an end.

"Little Fang, please save Xiao Lan. I feel like she’s in a terrible state." Old Wan’s voice choked up. He stood there, helpless, tears streaming down his face. "This child has had a hard life. She lost her mother young. I’ve failed her."

Li Si hadn't wanted to come upstairs, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. He didn't enter the room, instead hovering by the doorframe, half his body hidden behind the door, peeking in with just his head. He looked ridiculous—wanting to watch but terrified, like someone trying to peek through a crack while being pulled away by an invisible force.

I didn't have time to laugh at Li Si. I could see it clearly: the black mist in the mirror was pushing outward, trying to force its way into Xiao Lan’s body, while she circled a statue of Guan Gong, trying to use it for protection. I noticed the mist would swirl around the statue but could only approach Xiao Lan when she wandered toward the northeast corner.

I had assumed the Guan Gong statue had the power to hold back the mist, but as I channeled my energy to summon a bean soldier for help, I noticed a circular white light shimmering at the statue’s waist. I was startled—it was a magical artifact, similar to the stone I’d brought back from the mountain behind my grandmother’s house when I was a child. Now I understood why the mist couldn't get near Xiao Lan when she was close to the statue.

But that didn't help me now. I pinched my fingers in a seal and chanted the incantation: "The Six Paths of Reincarnation within the Five Elements, the true meaning of the Immortals lies herein. How can the Six Paths claim the Five Elements? This extra path is not in vain. Appear!"

I cast the summoning spell, my heart pounding. I didn't know what kind of miracle the little spark of light in my mind would bring.

With a flash of white light, an image of a yellow weasel, a foot tall and holding a small wooden stick, appeared before me. It stretched and yawned, speaking in human tongue, "Damn it, I was suffocating in there. It’s much warmer out here."

I was stunned, knowing what Huang Liulang meant, but I had no time for his nonsense. "Brother Six, hurry! Cut off the connection between her and Xiao Lan. I’m going to perform a soul-calling."

Huang Liulang was diligent enough, though his tongue was sharp. "Say, Little Fang, if you have time, let me out more often. Being out here is like recuperating for me."

Damn! Huang Liulang’s words were biting. He cultivated inside my body, yet he made it sound like I was abusing him. Especially that line about "recuperating"—it was too much.

"Brother Six, I get it! Just hurry up. My internal energy is limited; I can't hold this for long."

"You useless brat, never practicing until you actually need the power."

As he spoke, Huang Liulang approached the mirror and thrust his small wooden stick into it. The stick sank right into the glass. I saw it clearly; the stick was the shape of my God-Slaying Whip. It seemed our artifacts could be shared.

"Little Fang, it’s done," Huang Liulang said confidently.

I saw that no more black mist was pouring from the mirror. I felt a surge of joy; my bean soldier Huang Liulang was quite impressive.

I walked up to the vanity, looked into the mirror, and said, "I don't care what kind of ghost you are. Come out and talk to me."

The surface of the mirror rippled, and the shadow of a woman’s head appeared. She screamed in fury, "Qingyuan, you deceived me!"

I paused, realizing the situation immediately. The female ghost had been raised by Wu Zhuang.

"Qingyuan has run off. Come out and let’s talk," I said, mimicking my grandmother’s way of negotiating with spirits.

The ghost froze, her face filled with terror. I felt a flicker of hope, thinking she was afraid, and added, "Come out. I won't hurt you."

"Ah! You wretch!" The ghost’s face began to contort, and the black mist in the mirror started to churn violently.

Just then, I noticed Huang Liulang’s body beginning to tremble. His form, originally a transparent white light, flickered as if it were about to dissipate.

I shouted urgently, "Brother Six, what’s wrong!"