The Mountain Spirit
CUNNING TRAITORS prevail while loyal subjects are slandered.15
Two key court officials, Wang and Zhang, found themselves framed by scoundrels. One was sentenced, along with his entire family, to execution while the other was sentenced to exile at the northern border. Righteous citizens from across the land rose up in fury.
One such person was known as “Master San.” Master San, whose last name was Shen, was unpredictable and had a wild reputation. With his unparalleled qinggong skills,16 he had never been defeated. From thousands of li away, Master San rushed to the rescue, managing to steal Lord Wang’s widow and young son away from right under the henchmen’s noses. Later, when Assistant Minister Zhang was on his way to join the army in the north, Master San spirited him away. After that, they were never heard from again. The henchmen papered all the streets and alleyways with wanted posters but never found even a trace of them.
As a result, this incident grew into a legend, a story people loved to tell…
1
SO MANY TORCHES burned on the mountainside that it looked as if the slope itself was ablaze. The constant sounds of people, horses, and dogs could drive one to panic.
The woman fled through the night, clutching her child in shaking hands. Her collar was already soaked in cold sweat, and the wind plastered it to her neck like a thin layer of ice. Her skin was half-frozen, and so was her heart. The blood pumping through her struggled to generate heat, but it wasn’t nearly enough to warm chilled flesh or ease the pain of betrayal.
She stepped on a loose rock and lost her footing. As she slid down the mountain, a short, shrill scream escaped her. She closed her eyes, shielding the infant in her arms as best she could, and braced herself for a hard landing.
And then…a long, deftly placed bamboo stick stopped her forward momentum. The bamboo bowed as the woman was jerked to a halt. When it sprang back, she started to fall backward, but then the stick swung easily around behind her. With one light tap, she was steadied.
“Careful, now,” someone said.
The hoarse voice belonged to a tall man dressed in rags. A small piece of wood hung around his neck like a dog’s name tag, and a rusting wine jug was strapped to his waist. He looked tremendously disheveled, his face half-hidden by unbound hair. His eyes were half-shut, and he smelled of alcohol. It was hard to guess how old he was, but no matter his age, this was a disreputable way to look. He had a blade of grass in his mouth, the bamboo stick in his hands, and a rag-wrapped sword on his back. When he walked, his shoulders swayed, which somehow gave him an even more unreliable air, like someone who might start a fight or make trouble at any moment.
All told, he was the sort of man one would steer well clear of if encountering him on the street.
But this woman and her child were being hunted down on the mountain. He was the only person she could turn to, so what choice did she have? Nevertheless, she was sheltered, without connection to any of the rough people of the jianghu,17 so fear still gripped her heart. When the man took a step toward her, she subconsciously held her child tighter and stepped back.
The man might’ve looked ready to start begging on the streets at any moment, but he was very perceptive. He immediately recognized her fear. Rather than approaching further, he extended his bamboo stick toward her and said, “Grab hold.”
The woman gave him a careful glance and hesitantly grabbed the stick. It was roughly two meters long, and in the man’s hand, it was like an extension of his arm. He could help her at any moment, but he could also use it to keep his distance so she wouldn’t be uncomfortable. She tightened her grip on the bamboo, feeling a sense of safety well up in her heart. Stammering, she said, “H-hero… Shen.”
“Just Shen San,” the man said lazily. “I’m a nobody, not some hero. Despite appearances, ma’am, I won’t hurt you for no reason. You don’t have to worry.”
“Shen… Master San.” The woman’s voice was very small. “Thank you for saving me and my son. I have no way to repay you for your enormous kindness…”
“Mm.” Shen San accepted her thanks but then said, “I’m just doing what I should. There’s no need to repay me. In any case, I was sent by someone.”
“My late husband… Before his death, we hosted an endless stream of guests. Now that our family is in ruins, plenty of people are ready to kick us while we’re down. Not a single person in court spoke up. Whereas you, whom we’ve only met a single time…”
It might’ve been her nerves, but once she started speaking, she couldn’t seem to stop. To Shen San, it was like having a weak bee buzzing by his ear, so annoying that it made his brain swell. But seeing how she trembled as she spoke, he couldn’t exactly tell her to stop. He just stood and picked at his ears.
His gaze suddenly snapped into focus, and his swaying shoulders stilled. The woman was pulled forward mid-speech by the bamboo stick. A heartbeat later, a cold light flashed in front of her eyes. The sharp wind of a slashing sword cut at her cheeks, followed by a warm splash across her face. The smell of blood filled her nostrils. Startled, she cried out involuntarily.
On the ground before her lay a small corpse that looked both like a bird and a fox—a winged creature covered in gray fur. Despite having been cut in two, it still seemed to stare at them eerily with bloodred eyes.
“A thousand-li tracker. Do these people need to go to such extremes to hunt down a mother and child?” Shen San hmphed, wiped his sword with the rag, and then nudged the little corpse with his foot. Extending a hand to the woman, he said, “Ma’am, let me see your child.”
There was no room for discussion. He grabbed the swaddled infant and took a careful sniff, detecting a very faint fragrance—like incense and rouge—that grew more pungent as he leaned closer.
A couple of cries pierced the air. Seven or eight thousand-li trackers were circling overhead, their needle-sharp calls cutting through the night and carrying into the distance.
“The tracking scent is on you, and now these beasts have found their mark,” Shen San said. “Go quickly!”
There was no way to know how many of the creatures her pursuer had. They came diving down, one after another—and one after another, Shen San cut them from the air. Their blood filled the sky like rain, but it and their cries all seemed to be drawing the pursuing troops closer and closer.