The farmer’s house had greeted them with screaming.
“Why should I send you to the city?!”
“Because I am sick! What kind of father are you?”
Two voices - a young woman and an old man. Qian Shanyi heard them as soon as the grandmother led them into the building - though Linghui Mei had been looking around uncomfortably ever since they walked through the gates. Even in human form, her ears were far keener.
“Those two louts are still at it,” the grandmother grumbled just ahead of them, leading them directly towards the commotion. Qian Shanyi was once again not sure if she was meant to have heard that, and once again, she chose to pretend she didn’t.
The house was just as nice on the inside as on the outside - solidly built from polished, oiled wood, clean and well-furnished. Qian Shanyi could see the little signs that the owners had put plenty of care into it - an occasional painting of the surrounding countryside, the windows positioned to offer the best views out into the gardens, even the choice of furniture, but…
It was all so ordinary. Rich for this village, yes, but even her parents had lived in greater luxury - to speak nothing of the sects. Perhaps she had gotten too desensitized.
“So go to Immortal Tang! He is a great healer -”
“Great healer?! He is a creep and I will never go back to him!”
“You dare?! My own daughter?! I will not have you say such things about him in my house -”
Something shattered. Crockery thrown across the room, by the sound of things.
Oh sweet mercy.
Qian Shanyi grimaced, thinking back on the village. She could guess at how many other households were still awake, how many would have a spare bed for them to sleep in, and how long it would take to find the ones that would…
She was too tired to bother. If these hosts got too noisy, well, they brought a noise-muffling formation along with them. Still, she sped up her steps.
“SONG HEXIANG, I will bring out the cane!”
Qian Shanyi stepped around the grandmother and entered the room first. It was something between a kitchen and a pantry - a fireplace in the back, and shelves along the sides, full of jars, sacks of rice, and dried vegetables. In the middle was a table - and around it, two people.
The man had his back turned to Qian Shanyi, so she could not see his face - but a patch of baldness on the back of his head meant he was at least as old as her own father. He was quite short, and did not look like much of a farmer. Too fat, his build too soft, and with those smooth hands - if he owned this farm, then he must have let others work the land.
The girl opposite him - Song Hexiang, presumably - was dressed in a loosely hanging nightdress, textured with little flowers. She seemed young, perhaps sixteen, and despite her own words, quite healthy. Her face was quite cute for a child, the shoulder-length hair framing it nicely, even if a bulging vein on her forehead and spots of tears in her eyes had clashed with her otherwise delicate appearance.
In her hands she held a small clay jar. Just as Qian Shanyi stepped through the door, Song Hexiang threw it directly in the man’s face.
Qian Shanyi calmly snatched it out of the air. This girl really had a terrible aim - the man didn’t even need to duck, it passed so far above him. “I do not think a cane would be necessary,” she said a little sharply, setting the jar down on a nearby counter.
The clack of the clay on top of the wood made the man jump slightly, and he spun around in surprise - only to take a step back as he beheld Qian Shanyi’s physique and the sword at her waist. His face, crimson red with fury, tried to contort itself into two entirely different expressions - that of righteous anger at his petulant daughter, and of supplication before a cultivator that had suddenly appeared in his house.
It settled on sheer confusion. “H-honorable immortal,” he said, stuttering slightly, “what brings you to -”
“Ask her if she has any sons, why don’t you?” Song Hexiang called out from behind him.
The man’s eye twitched violently, but before he could face his daughter and respond, the grandmother had finally deigned to enter the room. “Bo! Hexiang!” she shouted at the two of them, shaking a fist in the air. “How do you treat our guests?! Get them something to drink!”
Song Hexiang’s eyes flickered between Qian Shanyi, her grandmother, and her father - before her expression collapsed, whatever courage had filled her before fleeing her soul entirely. She sniffled, and ran out of the room, tears again streaming down her cheeks. Qian Shanyi stepped well out of her way before the girl could try pushing her aside.
“You come right back here!” Song Bo shouted angrily, and made a move to follow after his daughter - but stopped, catching a dangerous look from Qian Shanyi.
He was clearly still recovering from his shock at seeing a cultivator in his house - at least for now. How long would that last?
Qian Shanyi pursed her lips, considering her options. That shock wouldn’t last long - and Song Bo seemed to be the kind of man that was set off by the smallest of things. Even if it wasn’t really her place, and even if she didn’t really want to bother… She could see how she could twist this little man, make him behave like a real human being. Change him until the thought of caning wouldn’t even cross his mind.
But it would take effort. Weeks of it, and likely months. Months they neither had, nor, if she was being honest with herself, Qian Shanyi was willing to spend on something so small. There must have been a dozen other girls just like this in the villages they passed - perhaps even in this one village alone - and helping a single one of them would change absolutely nothing.
Am I truly so heartless that I could sleep in a house where some poor soul is being caned?
Perhaps not. But even if she didn’t want to deal with this family in full - perhaps she could be content with a smaller victory.
Distraction it is, until he calms down, and forgets all about their little fight, at least for today. Massage his pride, too, while I am at it, so that he would go straight to sleep.
“We would appreciate some simple tea, honorable Song,” Qian Shanyi said, gesturing to Linghui Mei, who was wisely still hiding behind the edge of the door. “And perhaps a bit of conversation? I am sure the man of your renown has much to say about your village.“
This first evening in the Green Leaf village was promising to be a long one.
“Here, master,” Linghui Mei said, spreading open a cluster of reeds to reveal a small, purple flower down in the water. “Another Purple Mirrorshade Lotus.”
Qian Shanyi grinned and stepped around Linghui Mei, hopping down into the murky swamp water to reach the flower. “Excellent work,” she said, cutting it off by the stem and placing it in a large basket she carried - it was already half full with other freshly cut herbs. “Did you smell anything else in this clearing?”
“I think there is some Boar Tusk Grass on that side,” Linghui Mei said, gesturing across the small pond. She was kneeling by the water’s edge, nowhere near as eager to step into the water. No spiritual shield - no defense against the lampreys. “But the smell is weak, and a little sharp. It might have been eaten by some demon beast already.”
“If we can find demon beast tracks, that would be even better,” Qian Shanyi said, pulling herself out of the pond. The water was freezing, but tolerable in short bursts, as long as it only went up to her knees. “Keeping a watch for them should be our responsibility anyway, at least in theory.”
Until their seals were ready, Qian Shanyi and Linghui Mei had little to do but wait and worry - and with weeks ahead of them, Qian Shanyi knew it would soon become agonizing. They needed something to occupy their time - and luckily for them, the forests of the Five Sealed Hills region gave birth to plenty of useful and medicinal herbs. It only made sense for them to explore.
Initially, Qian Shanyi didn’t expect much - merely to recoup the money they spent on food, and to gather some seeds and cuttings, in the hope they could later transplant them into Wang Yonghao’s inner world. Ordinary people couldn’t risk traveling far into the forests lest they encounter a spirit beast, after all. These areas were still largely untouched by the hands of herbalists.
What she didn’t account for was Linghui Mei’s nose. With her help, gathering the plants went ten times quicker with one tenth the effort. Of course, this was hardly unusual. The tracking dogs of spirit hunters could have located such basic plants just as easily, if appropriately trained. Qian Shanyi didn’t doubt that the Ministry of Exploration regularly relied on them to seek out rare Heavenly Materials and Earthly Treasures.
But such dogs were expensive - and Linghui Mei was free.
“You’ve said that word before - responsibility,” the tracker of the hour had asked, as they slowly circled the clearing, Qian Shanyi shaking loose swamp silt out of her sandals. They were in no hurry - the sun was still high in the sky, and Qian Shanyi would have preferred not to return to the village until nightfall. “What responsibility is that? You aren’t a spirit hunter, thank the Heavens - even if you begged to be housed as one.”
Qian Shanyi glared at Linghui Mei a little out of the corner of her eye, but the jiuweihu was unrepentant. She had been in a foul mood ever since last night, when she was forced to watch Qian Shanyi introduce herself to the family of Song Bo, the owner of that large farm.
“I haven’t begged for anything,” Qian Shanyi grumbled, “least of all as a spirit hunter.”
Linghui Mei glared right back at her. “Does my master think I lack ears to hear?”
“I merely asked if they were willing to!” Qian Shanyi exclaimed. “What does that have to do with begging?”
“It’s all the same in the end.”
“In either case, you have it backwards,” Qian Shanyi grumbled again. “It’s a common misconception, but the tradition came before the spirit hunters even existed, when cultivators would travel to outlying villages like these ones, and hunt spirits and demon beasts to keep the ordinary people safe.”
“The forests shriek with every sunrise,” Linghui Mei recited grimly. “And the spirits hunger for our flesh.”
“Exactly,” Qian Shanyi said, “Of course, nowadays, there isn’t as much need - even if the empire’s resources are quite stretched, it can generally keep a handle on the most dangerous threats. Yet the tradition remains.”
Linghui Mei snorted dismissively, but didn’t reply. They have just reached the other end of the pond, and she pointed out the stalks of the Boar Tusk Grass. Sure enough, they were eaten down to the roots. Linghui Mei crouched down next to the plants, smelling the ground.
“It’s a four-horned springdeer. A buck, I think, but it’s hard to tell in spring,” she said, standing back up. “The trail is fairly fresh - from this morning or last night, I would guess.”
“Then it seems we’ve found our lunch,” Qian Shanyi said, gesturing towards the grass. She couldn’t see any tracks or hoofprints, but that mattered little to Linghui Mei’s senses. “Lead the way.”
“Of course, master.”
They headed off deeper into the swamp. The forest here grew in patches, split up by pools of water and low-lying, thorny bushes. Ordinary people might have found it difficult to navigate - but for Qian Shanyi and Linghui Mei, who could simply hop over most obstacles, or slice them apart with a flying sword, it was no trouble whatsoever.
Linghui Mei kept giving Qian Shanyi annoyed glances throughout. Qian Shanyi didn’t press her, merely tried to catch her eye - and once she succeeded, raised a curious eyebrow at her disciple.
That, at least, prompted a reaction. A single sigh.
“Master, if you will…” Linghui Mei said, already turning away from Qian Shanyi. “Please take off your sandals.”
Qian Shanyi leaned her head curiously to the side, for all that Linghui Mei couldn’t see it. “My sandals?”
“The ropes on them squeak slightly because they are wet,” Linghui Mei explained. “We aren’t close to the deer yet, but…”
Qian Shanyi smiled. They really did squeak a bit. “I see. Of course.”
She took two wide steps, swinging her feet to toss her own sandals into the air - where she easily caught them. Two quick bursts of spiritual energy transformed them into daggers, leaving all the silt and swampy water behind. Qian Shanyi easily dodged the little splash as it fell down on the ground, and then with a second burst of spiritual energy tossed the daggers ahead of herself, where they turned back into her - now completely dry - sandals.
She didn’t even slow down. It was a shame that Linghui Mei didn’t turn around to watch her acrobatics.
“It should be fine now, right?” Qian Shanyi asked, and received a short grunt in reply.
So unresponsive…
Qian Shanyi gave Linghui Mei another five minutes to sulk in silence, before probing her again. “I am surprised you haven’t told me to change my robes,” Qian Shanyi said, gesturing towards her bright red robes. She hadn’t worn them on the road, but they were still the nicest set she owned - and hardly anyone would see her on a trip in the wilderness.
At least this time Linghui Mei actually looked back at her, before shaking her head. “Deer can hardly see red, and they are short sighted. You won’t stand out that much.”
“Is that so?” Qian Shanyi said curiously. “That is good to know, though I wonder where you learned that?”
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“I eat their souls when I hunt. They do not nourish me any, yet I still get some of their memories, if you can call them that. Enough that I know how they see the world, at least.”
That was news, of a kind. “Are you certain they do not nourish you at all?”
“Yes,” Linghui Mei said through clenched teeth, before turning around to glare at Qian Shanyi. She took a steadying breath before speaking again. “Master, I know you put little stock in jiuweihu knowledge, but -”
“Hmm? That is not true,” Qian Shanyi cut her off with a smile. At least they were getting somewhere. She let Linghui Mei be since this morning, but all this silent sulking was starting to get on her nerves. “Of course I trust your people to know what you eat. Surely some young jiuweihu had already tried to sustain themselves entirely off animals, and starved as a result. But if you can eat fruits as a small part of your diet - would it not stand to reason that you might be able to supplement your other nutrition as well?”
The difference was slight, yet nonetheless present. Anything that could reduce the number of humans necessary to sustain a jiuweihu was a benefit.
Linghui Mei’s expression cracked a little, missing a rebuttal she clearly expected to come from her master. She closed her eyes, pinched her nose, then shook her head slightly. “Even so… I do not think we can.”
“Is that a guess?”
“More of a guess, I suppose,” Linghui Mei said with a grimace. “Their souls are like tasteless gum. It’s best to swallow the evidence and not dwell on the experience.”
“Hmm. I might have to trouble you with dwelling on it a little bit now.”
“As you say, master.”
Another fifteen minutes passed by quickly, whatever had been on Linghui Mei’s mind since last night boiling quietly under the surface. Qian Shanyi puzzled over how to provoke her into speaking openly, yet nothing besides a direct confrontation really came to mind - and that still seemed a bit harsh.
“We are getting closer,” Linghui Mei said. “Perhaps only another ten minutes. Please speak quietly from now on.”
“As long as you get me within sight of the deer, I am sure I could slaughter it.”
Linghui Mei glanced at Qian Shanyi out of the corner of her eye. “There isn’t much wind today to cover your scent, master,” she said, “It might be best if I did it myself.”
Qian Shanyi inclined her head to the side. This was new - but she wasn’t sure if that was such a good thing.
“Where will you wash off the scent of your transformation?” she said, “In the swamp? You would get covered in lampreys.”
“There are plenty of streams to be found,” Linghui Mei said evasively.
“You will get a cold from bathing in a stream like that.”
“I will be fine,” Linghui Mei said, pursing her lips. “Or perhaps I could simply stay in a forest until my scent fades.”
Ridiculous. That would take a week.
“Hm,” Qian Shanyi said with mock casualness. Seems there really was no better way. “Just how you have been fine all day?”
“Is now really the time, master?” Linghui Mei snapped, gesturing towards a forest clearing that the scent was leading them towards. “We have almost found the deer.”
Qian Shanyi crossed her arms, refusing to move even a millimeter from her spot. “It seems like it is, if you insist on foolishness like staying in a forest instead of a warm bed,” she said. “What do I care for the deer? Or do you think I should take it on as my disciple, once my previous one expires of consumption?”
Their stubborn glares crossed, neither willing to back down. Linghui Mei’s lips twitched in barely suppressed fury, while Qian Shanyi’s own split in an easy, confident smile.
Linghui Mei blinked first. “I apologise, master,” she said, bowing deeply. “I had let my emotions get the better of me. You may -”
“Who asked you to apologise, disciple?” Qian Shanyi cut her off. “I do not need an apology, I need an explanation.”
The angry glare returned, but this time Linghui Mei’s fury came to the surface. She growled slightly, stalking over to Qian Shanyi.
“Well?” Qian Shanyi taunted Linghui Mei, only a single step separating them now. “You said you have ears to hear, so surely you have a mouth to speak with? So speak.”
“Why should I have to speak?” Linghui Mei said, her voice breaking out into a shout so loud the leaves shook on the tree branches above their heads. “Is my master so oblivious I have to say this out loud?!”
Qian Shanyi gestured casually with one hand, pushing a loose lock of hair back into her hair bun. Her basket of herbs dangled freely from her other hand. “Your master is not oblivious, she merely doesn’t care for misunderstandings. So speak your mind plainly.”
“You -” Linghui Mei growled, grabbing Qian Shanyi by the collar of her robes. “Spirits hunger for our flesh. You speak these words so casually! What do you think they mean to me, master?!”
Qian Shanyi raised an eyebrow at Linghui Mei. She was normally so taciturn. What in the Netherworld’s name brought this on? “The slaughter of your entire people. What of it?”
“What of it?!”
Qian Shanyi calmly raised her free hand and grabbed Linghui Mei by the wrist, pulling it away from her collar. Linghui Mei didn’t resist, though her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She didn’t step back, either.
“Words are just words,” Qian Shanyi said casually. “They mean different things to different people, and I should hope you know me well enough to realise I do not speak of the jiuweihu.”
“Does that farmer speak of me or not?” Linghui Mei said. “Does that grandmother?!”
Qian Shanyi blinked in confusion. Of all the things to bring up. “Song Bo?” she said, taking three entire seconds to even remember the name. “What about him?”
Linghui Mei stepped back in shock, her hands grasping at her shoulder-length hair. “What about him?!” she shouted again. “I had to listen to him ask you about the kitsune! I had to listen to you describe how you would slaughter me if I ever stepped foot in their village!”
“So?” Qian Shanyi said, then chuckled as Linghui Mei’s face changed further still. “Ho, what a vicious glare. I don’t think I have seen one quite like that from you yet.”
Sighing, Qian Shanyi turned her back on Linghui Mei, put her basket on the ground, and turned her attention to a small tree, growing by the side of the forest clearing. A couple swings of Qian Shanyi’s sword cut the tree down, and she propped it up on its own stump, slicing off branches to form something resembling a bench.
Qian Shanyi sat down and patted the wood right next to her invitingly - but Linghui Mei didn’t follow after, still glaring at Qian Shanyi from up high.
“Listen well, disciple Mei,” Qian Shanyi began, taking a bundle of dried pears out of her bag, one she brought as a little snack. She offered a bit to Linghui Mei, but that gesture was rejected as well. “Jiuweihu are far from the only spirits that threaten the ordinary people. In the popular consciousness, you aren’t even the scariest, nor the most common, nor the one with the highest number of corpses to your name, merely one of the most salacious. Nor would you be the first spirit to join the empire after being hunted.”
Qian Shanyi vaguely gestured back to where they came from, and then back to Linghui Mei. “With any luck at all, your grandchildren will grow up finding it bizarre that their grandmother scoffs at them joining the ghost festivals, and singing songs of spirits hungering for their flesh. After all, how could such a saying possibly refer to her in the modern day and age? Grandmother Linghui Mei must be truly old-fashioned to think otherwise. Unless you can see something I do not, that is the only future ahead of us.”
The mention of her progeny seemed to soften Linghui Mei’s furious expression a bit. “Of course you would say that, cultivator,” she hissed, though without any real fire. “As if my children are obligated to be raised by your people!”
Qian Shanyi shrugged easily. “Perhaps not,” she said, “That is for you to decide. And of course the future is the future, and now is now. I understand that you despise Song Bo for what he said, but so what? I despise him as well. The way he spoke of marrying his own daughter off to get more land - if we didn’t need a place to stay, I would have slapped him for it. Sadly we do need a place, and I doubt any other farm near us would be any better - nor do I want to attract attention by starting a scandal. What does that leave us?”
“So you expect me to go back to that house,” Linghui Mei snarled. “To smile at that man?”
Qian Shanyi sighed. It really didn’t seem like she was getting through to the root of the issue. “I expect you to be sensible,” she said, “What do you care about Song Bo?”
“What?”
“This may be unkind of me to say, but the man simply doesn’t matter,” Qian Shanyi said, giving Linghui Mei a tired look. “He may be a fairly wealthy man by the standards of this backwater, but at the end of the day, he is merely a farmer. A nobody of no import. He knows nothing of the jiuweihu and cares far more about guarding his daughter’s chasteness than about such esoteric subjects. Even his questions had more to do with how a jiuweihu might spirit his grandchildren away. He does not get to decide what happens to you and he will never get to decide that. There is simply no situation where his opinion would matter in any way, shape or form. So I ask you once again - what do you care about him, what he thinks, what is said in his presence?”
The longer Qian Shanyi spoke, the more Linghui Mei’s demeanor changed. Her fury receded, as her eyes left Qian Shanyi’s face entirely, hands crossing on her chest. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, as she struggled to give voice to whatever it was that truly concerned her.
Qian Shanyi gave her time to think it over. Best not to rush such things.
“Even if a piece of dung on my shoe does not matter, am I supposed to just ignore it?” Linghui Mei finally muttered, still not looking at Qian Shanyi.
Qian Shanyi frowned. That was a very transparent evasion. “Hm,” she said, “Well, either you are lying to me or you are lying to yourself. I do not believe for a second that this is the first time you hear some ignorant yokel talk of the jiuweihu. You knew full well we would have to blend in, so what is it that really makes you react so strongly?”
“I already said what!” Linghui Mei exploded again. “You expect me to simply listen on as my master insults my entire people?”
“I expect nothing in particular.”
Linghui Mei grimaced, a little whine escaping her throat through trembling lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, and suddenly all tension left her shoulders. They shook as tears started to run down her cheeks. “Why didn’t you defend me?” she whispered.
Qian Shanyi watched the transformation unfold with a far deeper sense of bafflement than she had ever felt before. It was as if she was made to breathe in water, and yet somehow, did not drown. “What?”
Linghui Mei sniffled, her body shaking as more cries escaped her throat. “When that bastard asked about the kitsune, why didn’t you say a thing in our defence? Why did you talk as if we are all monsters?!”
Qian Shanyi shifted around uncomfortably. This reaction was so far beyond any of her expectations that it simply didn’t make any sense. She was missing something, something big, but with all this crying it was a little hard to focus on what that might be.
“I told him a salacious story because he expected a salacious story, Mei,” she said, hating how apologetic she sounded over doing absolutely nothing wrong. “That is all.“
“To cultivate is to rebel against the heavens, isn’t that what you always say? Yet you won’t even dare say two words against a farmer?!”
Qian Shanyi sighed as she felt her patience running out. She’ll figure out what caused this reaction later, even if just the prospect of it filled her with a strange sense of boundless ennui. For now, it was time to end the argument. “I said nothing because he didn’t matter to me,” she said, letting her annoyance creep into her voice. ”It is the same reason why I do not speak to ants beneath my feet as equals. But if he matters to you - why didn’t you say anything?”
That put Linghui Mei on the backfoot. “What?”
“I didn’t bind your tongue, did I?” Qian Shanyi continued quickly. “You were free to speak your mind. If you wished to defend the honor of all jiuweihu before that mud wrangler, why did you stay silent?”
“It’s - you were the one speaking!” Linghui Mei said, stumbling over her words. That her voice was still shaking after her earlier outburst certainly didn’t help matters.
“So?” Qian Shanyi parried mercilessly. “If you would have spoken up, I would have played along. You had every opportunity to do so. Plenty of cultivators study esoteric subjects. It would hardly be strange for my disciple to have an interest in jiuweihu, and know more than her master does.”
A little unusual, perhaps, but not particularly strange.
Linghui Mei actually blushed. “That’s not the point!”
“How is it not the point? If you wish, we can even go back and do it right now. Clear the air.”
“I wish…” Linghui Mei said, drawing herself up to her full height. Her blush deepened further. “What I wish is for my master to know well enough to defend me!”
Qian Shanyi blinked. Then she blinked a second time. “What are you, a puppy?” she sneered, annoyance finally overflowing her soul. “Of course I would defend you against something that would matter! But if you expect me to protect your honor against every little speck of dust, you will be sadly disappointed.”
Linghui Mei’s lips trembled again, threatening to send her into another bout of crying. It had to be stopped right away, or her tears would turn this swamp into a lake that would drown poor innocent Qian Shanyi.
Qian Shanyi got up, and stepped towards the jiuweihu, giving her a half hug. Linghui Mei leaned into it far more than she intended, actually burying her face in Qian Shanyi’s shoulder.
“Oh, there there, little puppy,” Qian Shanyi said, rolling her eyes while she patted Linghui Mei on the head. “This here cultivator will keep you safe from scary, scary mud farmers.”
“You promise?” Linghui Mei sniffled.
Qian Shanyi very, very slowly breathed in, trying to keep her composure. “Sure,” she deadpanned. “Let’s go with that.”
It took another five minutes for Linghui Mei to calm down enough that they could get back to their hunt - and another twenty minutes for them to find the deer. Perhaps it heard their shouts - or perhaps it simply wandered off. The scent trails were not exactly precise.
Linghui Mei had intuited where the deer might hide and twice lead Qian Shanyi away from the trail, to circle around from a better direction. The second time they did this, they came out on top of a little hill overlooking a wide depression, crawling along the ground to not stand out against the sky - and saw the deer down below.
It was larger than Qian Shanyi expected, at least compared to the hoofprints she saw in the mud here or there. Its body was not that large - perhaps about the size of a sheep - but even laying down as it was, she could see the great length of its legs. When it stood, she was sure it could easily reach her shoulders. Its fur was smooth, dirty-red in color, and its neck long - ending in a small head with four long horns, between which hung a glowing ice crystal.
According to the Three Obediences Four Virtues - and Linghui Mei’s experience - it could freeze water, and would do so when running away, skipping across streams and puddles by turning them solid. It was a fast demon beast, and could put up a good fight if cornered - but its endurance was lacking. When Linghui Mei hunted four-horned springdeer before, she usually chased them down for an hour or two to tire them - unless the deer could hide somewhere she couldn’t reach, such as a deep swamp, and escape unscathed.
Qian Shanyi’s flying sword cut its head off in a single strike.
“I told you I could slaughter it,” Qian Shanyi said, rising from the grass and dusting her robes off.
“My master’s technique is most impressive,” Linghui Mei congratulated her. She seemed honest - whatever that earlier breakdown was, it seemed to have lifted her spirits, though Qian Shanyi was still baffled as to how.
“Your tracking deserves far more credit. I would have never managed it otherwise.”
Linghui Mei preened at that. “Thank you, master.”
“As is your skill with the herbs,” Qian Shanyi continued, “I take it this isn’t your first time?”
Really, with what Linghui Mei knew, she barely had to consult Three Obediences Four Virtues. Even if her knowledge wasn’t very academic, and she didn’t know all the properties of the plants in question, she still knew more than enough about how to identify and harvest them.
“Far from it.” Linghui Mei shook her head. “Many jiuwehu become herbalists or trappers. There are… fewer eyes, out in the forests. Spirit hunters know this much, and look for us - but sometimes it’s good enough.”
“Very good,” Qian Shanyi thanked her again. They’ve finally reached the deer, and she stopped just a few feet away from the pool of blood spreading out of the neck stump. The heart was clearly still beating, and the blood was spurting out slightly. “That means you could teach me how to properly butcher it. I brought some spices - we could cook it for lunch before continuing.”
Linghui Mei’s stomach grumbled. She hadn’t eaten anything in the morning, before they set off, nor last night - not wanting to reveal herself to the Song family. Last time she ate anything at all must have been a good twenty hours ago. “A lunch would be nice…” she said wistfully, licking her lips as she stared at the deer’s corpse.
Qian Shanyi grinned, reaching over to ruffle Linghui Mei’s hair. “Aw, is my little spirit puppy hungering for some flesh?”
Linghui Mei sprung back as if struck by lightning, a deep blush spreading across her face. “You - how dare you!?” she said indignantly.
Watching her face, Qian Shanyi couldn’t hold herself back from laughing.
