Chapter 86 — King's Village
劍問蒼天 · Page 6 of 7
Enough idle talk. On this day, Ming Li and the Wild Dog also arrived at King's Village and stood at the village entrance, where they saw people coming and going within, lively enough, quite reversing the dead and dreary look of former days.
When they reached the village, the wild dog looked this way and that, frowning and muttering something under his breath.
Xiao Hui, the monkey, had not seen so many people in days and was rather excited; perched on Ming Li's shoulder, he chirped shrilly. Ming Li patted him and glanced at the wild dog. "What are you doing?"
The wild-wolf Daoist said sourly, "I'm looking for an inn. We've walked this long—isn't it time we found somewhere to rest properly? What a godforsaken hole, not even an inn to be found!"
Ming Li said mildly, "What, did you think there'd be an inn here?"
The wild dog started. "What?"
Ming Li turned his eyes to the passersby thronging the street. Most were dressed too fine for folk who toiled for a living in Dawang Village. "Have you been here before?"
The wild dog spat. "Who'd be bored enough to come to a hellhole like this?"
Ming Li glanced at him. "Exactly. No outsiders ever come, and the villagers here have nothing to their names. What use would an inn be?"
The wild dog was struck dumb, and the look on his dog face turned several shades more miserable.
Just then, a burst of hawking came from the main street ahead. Someone was proclaiming loudly: "Foretell fifty years to come, divine three hundred years of fortune! Iron-tongued seer, brush that judges yin and yang—would you know the days ahead? Then come and have your fortune told!"
Ming Li and the wild dog both paused and looked toward the voice. At the roadside stood a battered old wooden table, and beside it a bamboo pole from which hung a canvas banner bearing four characters: "Immortal Points the Way." Next to the pole, an old man of imposing bearing was declaiming in a ringing voice—he it was who had just called out—and beside him a pretty young woman, drowsy and lovely, slumped against the table's edge with a look of helpless resignation.
These two were, needless to say, Zhou Yixuan and Xiao Wan. Zhou Yixuan had dragged Xiao Wan wandering the wide world; his skills were modest, yet he could never resist a lively crowd. Some time ago, hearing rumors of the Death Marsh, he had promptly ignored Xiao Wan's objections and hauled her off to Dawang Village.
Just now, in Zhou Yixuan's own words, his traveling funds were exhausted and the hero had come to his last road, so perforce he must tell fortunes in the street. Yet as he called out, his patter gradually changed shape: "... honored travelers, one and all, this immortal has received the true transmission of the Patriarch and can subdue the fiercest poisons under heaven. Now, within the Death Marsh the swamp gas is deadly venom; only let each of you purchase this sachet I sell, and you shall be proof against a hundred poisons, with a body incorruptible as diamond..."
Xiao Wan sighed quietly beside him. They had sat here for hours; Grandfather shouted himself hoarse, yet in truth not a single sachet had been sold. The locals believed him but could not afford his wares—Zhou Yixuan had set his prices outrageously high—while the outsiders were all cultivators of the Dao, folk of wide experience, and the look in their eyes said plainly: swindler. It was fortunate the righteous heroes were busy contending for treasures and had no time to bother with this fortune-teller; otherwise, should some hot-blooded disciple of a great master take it into his head to rid the people of a scourge, they would likely have found themselves in a fix they could not swallow.