Chapter 52: The Great Retreat

Spring had only just begun, and the upper reaches of the Wunest River hadn't yet swelled with water. So instead of rafting down on bamboo like usual, Liu Xiaolou took the mountain trail on foot, sticking to the proper way. After coming down from Qianzhu Ridge, he didn’t head toward the village. Now that members of the Qingyu Sect were spotted there, it wasn’t a good idea to show his face around. So he turned northwest instead, toward a little-known trail that even locals were reluctant to talk about. The path was tucked along a deep ravine, winding through dense forest. It was a hidden escape route used by rogue cultivators from Wulong Mountain in emergencies. As soon as he entered the trail, Liu Xiaolou saw seven people up ahead, carrying shoulder poles and large bamboo baskets. They were none other than the famed Seven Heroes of Guzhang Mountain. He didn’t know them well, but he had visited Guzhang Mountain years ago with his master to pay his respects. From behind, he called out, “Seniors!” The Seven Heroes turned their heads and gave him a brief nod before continuing on. The seventh brother, who was bringing up the rear, was the most friendly. He called out, “Xiaolou, heading out too?” Liu Xiaolou hurried to catch up, pointing in surprise at the table slung on the seventh brother’s carrying pole. “Senior, you’re bringing the whole table with you? What kind of treasure is that?” The seventh brother let out a hearty laugh and patted the table. “Good stuff! Made from lightning-struck huangtan wood. I’ll have a forge master refine a few flying swords out of it later. No way I’m leaving this behind for the Qingyu Sect. If they get their hands on it, that’d be a huge loss.” Up ahead, the sixth brother turned and grinned, flicking a finger against the large ceramic jar strapped to his back. It rang out with a crisp, lingering sound. Enjoying the clear tone, he tilted his head proudly and continued on with renewed energy. Seventh Brother puffed up proudly. “You see that jar? It's a good one, channels spiritual energy. The Zhou family used it to raise spirit fish. We tasted one and it's unreal, absolutely incredible! Oh, and that incense burner Fifth Brother's carrying up front? The Zhou family used it for heaven offerings. There's something strange about it too…” “Wait, the Zhou family from Lake Dongting?” “Who else? Why do you think the Qingyu Sect showed up at their doorstep?” “So it really was you guys? Was that all because of the post Boss Wang sent out?” “You didn’t go, Xiaolou? Huh, now that I think of it, I don’t remember seeing you there. Too bad. The Zhou family isn’t your average clan. They’ve got deep roots; they’re practically a branch of the Qingyu Sect. That whole estate was packed with treasures.” “Why’d Boss Wang want to go after the Zhou family in the first place?” “Their second young master insulted him. Of course we had to back him up and settle the score. We had more brothers from Wulong Mountain in on the raid than anyone else. We made a nice haul, too…” “The second young master?” “Yeah, Boss Wang said he was a low-level brat. Pretty face, slick hair, total spoiled rich kid. Thought he could boss everyone around just because of his family. Even slapped Boss Wang in the face. You think we were gonna let that slide? No way. We all took it personally. Figured we’d help Boss Wang get some payback. Only thing is, that kid vanished. We searched the whole estate and didn’t find a trace.” As they talked, more people began coming down the slope nearby, joining the group making their way out of the mountains. Someone in the crowd called out loudly, “Xiaolou! Hey, Xiaolou!” Liu Xiaolou looked up and smiled as he walked over. “Zuo Gaofeng! It’s been a while!” Zuo Gaofeng had a big bamboo basket strapped to his back, covered with a raw sheepskin. Who knew what kind of belongings he was carrying in there? He clapped Liu Xiaolou on the shoulder with a regretful look and said, “Right after we parted ways last year, I ran into Wanderer Dai at the foot of the mountain. He gave me a hero’s post, and he even asked about you… Everyone made out pretty well this time; should be enough to eat and drink for a year. Where’d you go after that? Why didn’t you come back to the mountain? You could’ve gotten in on it too.” “Did folks make as much as we did with Brother Wei?” Liu Xiaolou asked. Zuo Gaofeng chuckled. “Of course not. A chance like that only comes around once a decade. Xiaolou, don’t tell me you’ve spoiled your appetite now. That won’t do. You’ve got to learn to be content… Haha, you still haven’t eaten that big white goose of yours?” Liu Xiaolou patted the white goose waddling at his feet. “We’ve bonded. Can’t eat it now. It’s staying with me until the end. Going to keep it around for old age and comfort.” More people kept joining the group as they made their way down. Among the familiar faces were Lingling Traveler and Dragon Mountain Wanderer. Lingling Traveler had missed out on the hero’s call once again, so while he was leaving the mountain too, he was sighing the whole way. Dragon Mountain Wanderer had taken part in the Zhou raid and looked to be in a great mood; clearly made a good haul. What really surprised Liu Xiaolou, though, was seeing Tan Banzhang among the crowd. The guy was hauling several bundles of different sizes, joking and chatting as he made his way downhill. The Tan family was part of the Wulong Mountain sect, but they’d always lived outside the mountain. Why were they fleeing too? “Brother Tan, what’s all this about?” Tan Banzhang laughed. “Ah, Brother Liu, I couldn’t stand the rules back home anymore. Moved into Wulong Mountain this past New Year. Settled down right by Dragon Horse Falls. Once we’re all back, you’ve got to come drink with me there. Bring Chief Zuo and Brother Lingling too.” “Just moved in, and already you’re forced to leave the mountain? That’s rough, Brother Tan. I feel bad.” “What’s there to feel bad about, Xiaolou? Tan here made a pretty haul from the Zhou raid!” “Haha, it wasn’t that much,” Tan said with a sheepish grin. “Chief Zuo’s exaggerating…” By the time they reached the foot of Wulong Mountain, the group had grown to over a hundred people. Everyone said their goodbyes, wished each other well, and headed off in different directions. Snakes have their paths, and mice have their holes. Everyone would find a quiet, hidden place to lie low. There was no need to gather in one spot and draw attention. Liu Xiaolou looped around from the north and returned to Wunest Town at the lower reaches of the Wunest River. On the southern edge of town, he came to a run-down little courtyard tucked away from view. He rummaged around the base of a wall for a bit, found a rusty key, and unlocked the door. The door creaked open with a long groan, revealing a small, neglected courtyard. Aside from the west-facing porch, there were three rooms along the east, south, and north walls. In the center was a narrow stone-paved courtyard about the size of a tenth of an acre, with a sunken drain in the middle. A wave of mildew hit him the moment he stepped inside. He hadn’t been here in over two years. The last time was when he’d come with his master. He remembered his master saying this place had cost fifty taels of silver. They’d only stayed three times before; this made the fourth. Big White took the initiative, eagerly clearing cobwebs and pulling weeds. Liu Xiaolou grabbed a broom just as dusty as the rest of the place and gave the three rooms a rough cleaning. That was enough to call it home. No one knew how long the Qingyu Sect’s full-scale purge of Wulong Mountain would last. Judging by how other sects did things, it might be two weeks at the shortest, maybe a full month. If they couldn’t find anyone, they’d eventually move on. In the meantime, he’d live like a proper citizen of Wunest Town. Quiet, steady, and focused on cultivation. Liu Xiaolou went into town to buy the essentials. He hauled back two bundles of firewood, cleaned and filled the water jar, made a simple meal, and filled his stomach. After that, he went straight back to cultivating. Spring rain began to fall again, dripping from the eaves on all sides, like strings of beads cascading into the courtyard. The water gathered in the rain pool at the center. The goose floated lazily in it, tucking its head and neck under its wing. With the sound of rain all around, Liu Xiaolou held a spirit stone in his hand and began focusing on opening the fifth acupoint point along the Hand Faint Yin (Pericardium) Meridian: Jianshi. He had seven spirit stones left. If no one disturbed him, he could cultivate for about three and a half months. The only question was, how many acupoints could he open? The sixth one? Or maybe even the seventh?