Chapter 24: The Half-Torn Insect Corpse

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Midnight.

A ruined temple.

Buzz—

Within its scabbard, the Dragon-Slaying Sword emitted a low hum.

Bai Xian’s eyes flew open.

By the waning firelight, a figure lunged toward her.

Leaning against the corner wall, Bai Xian reacted with composed swiftness, her posture a bit awkward but her kick precise, landing squarely on the intruder’s face.

A dull thud followed—the figure was thrown back even faster than he’d advanced, crashing heavily to the ground, arms clutching his head in agony.

The sudden commotion woke all the guards sleeping within the ruined temple.

The first to rise, seeing one of his own struck down, immediately drew his sword and pointed it at Bai Xian, who held the Dragon-Slaying Sword.

“Stop!” a deep voice barked, halting the guards’ next move.

Yang Xian, spear in hand, stepped past his companions and faced Bai Xian across the fire.

Glancing at his subordinate, whose nose was now flattened from the blow, Yang Xian’s expression turned grim.

“My apologies, Miss Bai. Though this brother of mine is a scoundrel on his best days, he would never commit such an outrage. There must be more to this.”

His unexpected apology made both sides pause. They’d expected an angry confrontation, not an immediate admission of fault.

Bai Xian was rather intrigued.

“You’re so sure it’s his fault?”

In stories, wasn’t it always that one beats the underling to draw out the boss, then beats the boss to lure out the ultimate villain? Why did the script seem to have changed in her case?

“I can’t say for certain whose fault it is, but I believe that a woman capable of eradicating the Blackwater Marsh bandits and slaying the river demon singlehandedly would not attack us without cause,” Yang Xian replied.

There was more he left unsaid—the place the guard was kicked from was clearly where Bai Xian had been resting. Unless his man had wandered over himself, there was no other explanation.

Yang Xian’s words wiped the indignation from the guards’ faces.

Eradicated the bandits, slew the river demon?

Wasn’t this the very Miss Bai that Scarface Cai Wei had spoken of?

Bai Xian smiled.

“You know me?”

“Your reputation precedes you, Miss Bai. There’s no one in Jinjiang County who hasn’t heard your name.”

She hadn’t expected that after only two journeys in this world, she’d already garnered such fame. Bai Xian felt a touch of pride.

But now was no time to bask in it.

Since arriving at this dilapidated temple yesterday, the Dragon-Slaying Sword had been humming warnings incessantly—clearly, something sinister lurked nearby.

Just before, as that guard returned from relieving himself, the sword had nearly leapt from her grasp. Bai Xian had simply followed its lead and kicked the man over.

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“You’d best send someone to check the area. There ought to be something unusual.”

At Yang Xian’s signal, several guards lit torches and, weapons in hand, left the temple to investigate.

Soon they returned to report, “Chief Yang, one of the pack horses outside is dead.”

The safety of the horses was vital; without them, the cargo could never reach its destination by manpower alone.

Yang Xian strode out, spear in hand.

Of the original eight pack horses, four now lay dead—half their number gone.

Zhu Biao, the cloth merchant, looked distressed. Without the horses, their escort mission was doomed. They certainly couldn’t drag the carts themselves.

But Yang Xian had no time to worry about the employer’s face.

He crouched by a horse, dipping a finger into the white foam and blood at its mouth.

“There’s no sign of external injury, nor any trace of poison.” He lifted the horse’s eyelid. “The pupils haven’t fully dilated—it can’t have died long ago… Wait, this one’s eyes are missing…”

As the guards searched for the cause of death, Bai Xian’s gaze fell elsewhere.

She prodded a half-segment of an insect’s corpse with a stick, lifting it for a closer look.

Her keen sense of smell picked up a faint demonic aura wafting from it.

Judging by its appearance, it was a centipede’s remains, yet on its back were two structures resembling the stubs where wings might once have been.

She squeezed it gently—the corpse was soft and fragile, hardly threatening.

Was this creature related to tonight’s events, or merely a coincidence?

Just then, Yang Xian, having finished his examination, approached, spear in hand.

“Miss Bai, I’ll take the attacker back to Jinjiang County. If you have time, you can come with me. Our head escort will give you a proper explanation.”

For such a failed night assault, even if reported to the authorities, the most that would come of it was a few days in jail and a fine.

Though Bai Xian suspected something strange about this man, she couldn’t exactly kill him in front of everyone.

Besides, since being kicked by Bai Xian, the man had fallen into a semi-conscious state, drifting in and out of awareness.

Yang Xian intended to take him back for medical help.

“Jinjiang County? I don’t mind going,” Bai Xian replied.

She recalled that Scarface Cai Wei was from Jinjiang and had previously invited her to rest in the county town.

Coincidentally, the Green Book’s directions pointed that way as well.

Hearing that Bai Xian was willing to accompany him, Yang Xian was visibly relieved.

“We’ll depart at first light.”

With four horses dead, the cloth carts couldn’t move any further.

Yang Xian decided to leave the goods and the rest of the guards at the temple, while he returned to the escort bureau for reinforcements and new horses.

The night passed uneventfully.

At dawn, the wind and rain had ceased.

Even the water dripping from the broken eaves no longer formed a chain.

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The guards saddled three of the remaining pack horses.

Yang Xian mounted up, bringing the afflicted guard with him, and Bai Xian, bracing herself, climbed onto her own horse.

Fortunately, the pack horses, unsuited for running and of gentle temperament, served merely as mounts. Thanks to her superhuman constitution, Bai Xian quickly adapted to the jostling ride.

Three riders, three horses—if all went well, they could reach Jinjiang County in two days.

“Hyah!”

…

By the hour of You, they stopped to rest at a roadside pavilion.

All the way, Bai Xian kept a wary eye on the sick guard, but he only maintained his riding posture, showing no further oddities.

Dismounting and tethering her horse, Bai Xian’s attention drifted to Yang Xian’s ever-present white-waxwood spear.

Such spears were typically army-issue: their shafts white as jade, strong yet supple, capable of bending to a full half-circle without breaking.

“Chief Yang, you carry a spear with you. I imagine your skill must be formidable,” Bai Xian remarked.

Yang Xian, tending the fire, paused.

He instinctively touched the spear he’d brought from the army.

“Just making a living.”

Whether in battle or escorting goods, wasn’t it all for survival? Yet, recalling the overwhelming power of that great demon from his memories, he doubted he’d ever dare raise his spear against such evil again.

Bai Xian’s eyes sparkled.

“I have a presumptuous request—would you teach me the spear?”

Yang Xian was surprised that the woman who had wiped out the Blackwater Marsh bandits would ask him for instruction. For a moment, he was at a loss.

“Miss Bai, you use a spear too?”

Bai Xian opened her bundle and withdrew four iron rods. With a few deft movements, she assembled them into a two-meter-long iron spear.

The shaft was forged of refined steel, gleaming with a cold, forbidding light.

The blade resembled a spearhead more than a typical point, forged with layers of hard and soft steel. Even without testing it, one could sense its deadly sharpness.

“What a fine spear!”

“Try it,” Bai Xian offered.

Yang Xian grabbed it, his expression shifting instantly.

He had to muster all his strength just to keep the heavy spear from slipping from his grasp.

“How much does this weigh?”

Bai Xian considered. “It should be around ten kilograms.”