Chapter 17: A Frenzy of Demons, Part 10
The spider demon had finally died.
The menace that had plagued the villagers for more than half a year was eliminated, and the entire village celebrated! People from neighboring villages hurried over as well, offering silver, grain, and heartfelt thanks to Shen Xiao, wishing they could worship him as a living deity.
Of course, Shen Xiao would not accept these gifts, but the villagers’ enthusiasm was hard to refuse. And so, the immortal and dignified Daoist Shen broke his usual rules and stayed to join in the celebratory feast held in their honor.
The villagers' joy was expressed in the most simple ways. The neighboring villages sent cattle and sheep, the butcher slaughtered them himself, and everyone erected a massive bonfire in the open space, singing and dancing around it. Food and drink flowed in abundance, as if it were the New Year.
Lin Yuan sat among the festivities, silently eating meat, his gaze flitting toward Shi Xianyu beside him. She was engrossed in gnawing on a duck leg.
He noticed how small her mouth was... her teeth were tiny, struggling to tear at the duck meat, her mouth and chin smeared with a bit of grease, making her look... adorable.
Lin Yuan’s heart began to pound wildly.
The duck was a bit tough today, so it was no surprise her little teeth couldn’t handle it. His eyes scanned the dishes on the table, and quietly, he picked up a roasted quail and placed it into her bowl without a word.
After a few bites of duck, Shi Xianyu moved on to the other dishes in her bowl, not noticing the extra quail. She simply thought the "duck" was suddenly more tender, and carefully picked off the bones, eating every bit of meat.
Lin Yuan took a quail for himself as well, quietly noting the flavor... Yes, she liked this kind.
“Hey!”
A child’s voice rang out from behind.
Lin Yuan turned to look—it was the same little boy who had thrown a mud ball at him last time.
The boy stood proudly before him, as if full of bravado, and said, “Last time was my fault, but I advise you not to underestimate me!”
Lin Yuan: “……”
He had always only half-understood the ways of humans and had little curiosity, so after hearing the boy’s words, he withdrew his gaze, returning to the food on the table, pondering which dish Shi Xianyu might like.
Suddenly, the boy felt ignored!
Annoyed and anxious, he stepped closer, “Hey! Let me show you something!”
Lin Yuan turned his head again, frowning at the boy, his confused expression seeming to say: Why are you still here?
The boy, feeling deeply humiliated, grabbed his pant legs and shouted, “Look!!”
Two dark, smudged little legs.
Lin Yuan: “?”
The boy was very pleased with himself, holding up his pant legs and boasting, “How about it? Am I impressive? Just wait, I’ll have even more hair in the future!”
“Pfft! Hahahahaha!…” Shi Xianyu burst out laughing.
The boy stared blankly, looking down at his legs, suddenly panicked—he hadn’t expected his carefully drawn leg hair to now be nothing but smudges of ink!
“My… my hair…” The boy’s eyes reddened.
Shi Xianyu stifled her laughter, stood up, and took the boy’s hand, saying, “Come on, I’ll help you draw it again. This time, let the ink dry before you put your pant legs down.”
The boy shed a bitter tear, “We don’t have any ink left at home.”
Ordinary farming families had no need for writing, so they rarely kept much ink or paper.
Shi Xianyu considered this, “Wang Ji is a scholar, his family surely has ink. Let’s borrow some, it should be fine.”
---
The boy finally stopped crying, his head drooping as he followed Shi Xianyu toward the village chief’s house.
Lin Yuan wanted to follow, but was blocked by several tipsy villagers—
“Daoist, allow me to toast you!...”
“Daoist, another cup!...”
…
Nearly everyone was feasting outside, and the village chief’s house was also empty; even the servants were out drinking.
Shi Xianyu led the boy into Wang Ji’s study. Ink, brush, paper, and inkstone were all laid out. She rolled up her sleeves and began grinding ink, chatting idly with the boy as she worked—
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Xiao Man.”
“Oh, how old are you?”
“I’m seven! I can help with work at home now. I’m really good!”
“Hahaha, yes, you’re amazing. When I was seven, all I could do was cry~”
Shi Xianyu finished grinding the ink, dipped in a brush, and had the boy sit in the chair, asking, “Do you want thick, short leg hair, or long, thin leg hair?”
The boy frowned, “I want thick and long!”
Shi Xianyu laughed, “You have good taste. Don’t move, I’ll start drawing~”
The boy listened and sat still.
Shi Xianyu had studied fine brush painting for several years, so drawing leg hair was no challenge. A few quick strokes, steady and clean, far more reliable than the child’s scrawls—judging by his expression, he was satisfied.
After a while, she heard faint voices outside, and glanced out with surprise—it sounded like Wang Ji’s mother.
Strange. Everyone was celebrating outside; why was Madam Wang alone at home?
Then she remembered: in ancient times, women rarely left the house, and peasant women were busy with farm work and chores, so it didn’t matter much. But Madam Wang seemed like a lady from a wealthy family, perhaps her household was more particular about propriety.
“Don’t move until the ink dries, okay?” Shi Xianyu said. “I’ll go see Madam Wang.”
She had planned to tell Wang Ji after finishing, but since Madam Wang was home, she might as well inform her directly. It wouldn’t do to use someone’s ink without saying anything.
Shi Xianyu stepped out, discovering the voices were coming from the backyard. Feeling uneasy, she slowed her steps, quietly circling to the rear of the house.
The village chief’s backyard was very tidy, unlike most farmhouses with livestock. Only two trees grew there. Madam Wang was kneeling beneath one, burning paper.
Her face was pale, murmuring softly as she burned: “Go in peace… don’t blame me… if there’s blame, it’s for being too foolish… don’t come back again…”
Seeing this scene, Shi Xianyu felt a chill.
It didn’t seem appropriate to approach now. She pressed her lips together, carefully retreated a few steps, and left quietly.
Back in Wang Ji’s study, Xiao Man was still sitting in the chair, terrified his new leg hair would be rubbed off, blowing ferociously on his legs to dry the ink.
“Come check, is it dry yet?” he asked urgently.
Shi Xianyu bent down, examined carefully, and nodded, “Yes, it’s dry.”
---
Xiao Man was content, hopping off the chair, ready to lower his pant legs. Halfway down, he hesitated, frowning—If he covered them up, who would see his leg hair? If no one saw, wasn’t it all for nothing?
He rolled his pant legs up high, chest puffed out, marching out full of confidence!
Shi Xianyu followed him, asking quietly, “Xiao Man, has anyone died in the village chief’s family recently?”
“Huh?” Xiao Man paused, “No.”
Shi Xianyu said, puzzled, “That’s odd. I went to find Madam Wang just now and saw her burning paper.”
“Oh, probably for Wang Ji’s mother,” Xiao Man replied indifferently.
Shi Xianyu was astonished, “Isn’t Madam Wang Wang Ji’s birth mother?”
“Of course not!” Xiao Man shook his head, then warned her, “But don’t mention this to Wang Ji, he’ll be upset.”
“Why?” Shi Xianyu asked, confused.
If it had been someone else, Xiao Man wouldn’t have told, but since she’d drawn his leg hair, he considered her his own and confided, “Because Wang Ji’s mother ran off with a traveling merchant and abandoned him. If you bring it up, won’t it just make Wang Ji sad?”
The child sounded quite considerate.
Shi Xianyu mused, “So Madam Wang doesn’t want to remind Wang Ji of sad things, and so she burns paper in secret… But wait, why would Madam Wang burn paper for someone else?”
“You don’t know, Wang Ji’s mother and Madam Wang are sisters. Wang Ji’s maternal family wanted to make up for their daughter’s disgrace, and to care for their grandson, so they married the younger sister into the village, telling everyone the elder daughter had died of illness. But really, everyone knew she’d run off with the merchant. Since the elder sister supposedly died, it’s normal for the younger sister to burn paper for her.”
Despite his youth, Xiao Man relayed this gossip fluently.
Shi Xianyu understood now: the current Madam Wang was not the original wife, but her sister.
Thinking about it, it was rather pitiable—so young, yet sent to the village as a replacement because her sister eloped, unable to marry well herself.
…But what did Madam Wang mean just now by saying “don’t blame me”?
Shi Xianyu wanted to ask more, but at that moment, Xiao Man spotted some playmates from the village. Eager to show off his leg hair, he ran off, legs black with ink.
Shi Xianyu let it go, thinking, it’s not her place to pry into others’ family affairs.
She shook her head and happily returned to the feast, only to find the villagers’ enthusiasm had made Daoist Shen tipsy, and even Lin Yuan’s face was flushed. When he saw her return, his amber-gold eyes shone brightly, with a touch of foolishness.
Shi Xianyu couldn’t help but laugh, stepping forward to advise, “Alright, stop drinking. We still have to travel tomorrow.”
Shen Xiao, seeing his savior arrive, stood up as if granted amnesty, smiling and waving, “Forgive me, I can’t handle any more wine!”
Wang Ji rose to smooth things over, saying with a smile, “The Daoist knows how grateful we are. He’s worked hard these days. Why not let him rest for the night, and tomorrow we’ll send him off properly?”
Everyone agreed, finally putting down their cups, and insisted on escorting the Daoist to rest.
Night had fallen, but the feast showed no sign of ending. Shen Xiao and his companions returned to the village chief’s house to rest, where they could still hear the villagers’ joyful singing and laughter from afar.
Madam Wang had prepared sobering tea and hot water for washing, all with impeccable courtesy.
Shi Xianyu quietly observed her, finding her gentle and kind, with no trace of the gloom she had shown earlier while burning paper.