Chapter 66: Massacre (Part Two)

Zhang Chi had barely finished dusting off his hands when Dao Xuan had already dispatched several followers of the Five Pecks of Rice sect before them. Having a master by his side certainly made things easier, and Zhang Chi was elated. Together with Dao Xuan and San Tong, he dragged the unconscious followers to a secluded spot.

In no time at all, they swapped their own clothes with those of the Five Pecks of Rice followers—tattered robes and straw sandals. San Tong burst out laughing at Zhang Chi's appearance: “Brother Zhang, you really do look like a vagrant in these.”

Was that a compliment or an insult? Zhang Chi sighed inwardly. He had once been a member of the drama club at university—naturally, he could play any role convincingly.

At that moment, Miss Ruoshui emerged from nearby, also clad in an ordinary follower’s garb, the attire of a destitute wanderer. Yet Zhang Chi, arms crossed, glanced her over and felt something was missing. After a moment’s consideration, he realized it wasn’t a matter of lacking anything; rather, Miss Ruoshui was simply too beautiful, no disguise could make her look like a vagrant. With that, Zhang Chi scooped up some mud from the ground and smeared it across her face.

Miss Ruoshui, astute as she was, understood Zhang Chi was helping her with a disguise. Though she was somewhat apprehensive about the dark mud, she did not shy away. When Zhang Chi finished blending the mud on her face, it truly concealed her identity—one could hardly tell she was a woman.

Zhang Chi looked at his handiwork and chuckled. San Tong and Dao Xuan found it hilarious as well, pointing at Miss Ruoshui and laughing heartily. Embarrassed, she stamped her foot and said, “What’s so funny? Don’t I look like a vagrant?”

Dao Xuan was bent over with laughter. “Not just like—now you’re more vagrant than any vagrant.”

“I’ve got the look, but you’re still missing something,” Zhang Chi said, rubbing Dao Xuan’s bald head. It didn’t quite fit the outfit. He glanced around, tore a strip from a discarded robe, and wrapped it around Dao Xuan’s head, muttering, “There, with this scarf covering your bald head, you finally look the part.”

After their laughter subsided, Zhang Chi grew serious. “Enough fooling around. The main force of the Five Pecks of Rice has moved on. We must hurry and follow.”

Dressed identically to the ordinary followers, they blended in seamlessly. The sect’s followers were gathered from vagrants across the land, many strangers to each other, so no one questioned their presence. They followed the main force all the way back to the eastern side of Shanyin City.

The Wang and Xie clans resided in the southeast of Shanyin. The Five Pecks of Rice army marched straight into the Wang mansion. After all, Wang Ningzhi was currently the highest-ranking official in Kuaiji Commandery. Unfortunately, he had a large body of guards but hadn’t had time to organize them when the sect’s army stormed his estate.

When Wang Ningzhi was dragged out by the followers, he was still praying to the gods, seeking protection from the spirits. But since the sect’s saintess had returned from the celestial mountain, their confidence had soared. With her magical support, she could command eighty-one million ghost soldiers—what need had they for mere spirits? Even if Wang Ningzhi summoned his own, they would be overwhelmed by the saintess’s forces.

Thus, though the followers were superstitious, they wasted no time, hacking Wang Ningzhi to pieces.

Zhang Chi and his companions arrived after the main force. By the time they reached the Wang mansion, every male member of the Wang family had been slaughtered.

Once a renowned clan, who would have thought—just one generation later, the entire family would be massacred? Truly, after the worst comes the best; perhaps there was truth to the saying.

With the family wiped out, corpses covered the Wang estate. Even San Tong and Dao Xuan, seasoned as they were, could not help but gasp in shock. Zhang Chi noticed that the chief ritualist was now leading his men toward the Xie estate, so he quickly summoned his companions to follow the crowd.

Miss Wang’s heart had been bound to the Xie family until her death; Zhang Chi, though outwardly indifferent, felt some concern for them as well.

When they stormed into the Xie family’s inner hall alongside the sect’s followers, nearly all the members were dead, save for a middle-aged woman and a child hiding behind a screen.

The woman clung to the child, sobbing, “Child, escape through the back, run quickly!”

The child gripped her sleeve, his eyes reddening but refusing to cry, declaring, “Mother, the ancients said: ‘When the nest is overturned, how can any eggs remain whole?’ Where could we possibly run now? If they wish to kill you, let them kill me as well.”

Though young, the child possessed remarkable resolve.

Zhang Chi had always admired those with such spirit, and it was a shame to see one perish. Moreover, Miss Wang had labored for the Xie family; he could not bear to see such a storied clan’s lineage extinguished. From any perspective, he felt compelled to save the child.

As he hesitated, the sect’s followers surged forward; one thrust a spear, killing the woman instantly. Zhang Chi realized there was no more time and shouted, “You ghost soldiers, how dare you slack off here! There are many Xie guards in the backyard—go slaughter them all! This little brat—what harm can he do?”

The sect’s followers, all vagrants assembled from across the land, were accustomed to obeying whatever the ritualist decreed. Zhang Chi’s sudden, righteous command, though he was unknown to them, went unchallenged. The sect lived simply, and even ritualists dressed as vagrants; who could say if this newcomer was a ritualist himself? Especially seeing three “ghost soldiers” closely attending him—it was rare for anyone to have such protection.

So the followers dared not argue and withdrew from the hall, heading to the backyard to search for Xie guards, but found only corpses.

The child looked at his mother’s body but did not cry. Miss Ruoshui picked him up and asked, “Your mother is dead; are you not sad?”

“Who are you?” The child did not know Zhang Chi and his companions, but since Zhang Chi had saved him, he sensed they were not villains, though they had arrived with the killers, so he asked in a childish voice.

Miss Ruoshui, moved by compassion, replied, “We are bad people—we came to save you.”

The child’s eyes were red, but he never wept. Seeing that the group did not seem like villains, he said, “What good is crying? Tears are for the weak. If I die today, so be it. If I live, I must remember their faces, and avenge my family when I grow up.”

Miss Ruoshui was stunned; she hadn’t expected such resolve from a child. Zhang Chi approvingly patted his head and asked, “What is your name?”

“Xie Lingyun,” the child replied. Zhang Chi nearly jumped in surprise.