Chapter Thirty-Two: The Great Blue Donkey

Zhao Manor, Inner Residence.

“Master!”

A guard hurried into the main hall, leaned in close to the lord of the manor, and whispered a few words in a low voice.

“What?”

The manor lord, still shaken, had only just taken his seat. He had barely managed a sip of tea to steady his nerves before being confronted with something that left him utterly dumbfounded.

With a loud crash, his teacup fell onto the table, and the scalding liquid splashed onto his silken robe. But he had no time to care. He sprang to his feet and demanded, “Take me to see it!”

Led by the guard, the manor lord returned to the peach orchard.

He stood beside the gaping pit left behind after the ancient tree demon had uprooted itself and fled, peering cautiously into its depths.

A pungent, foul stench instantly assaulted his nose, and the sight of the piled white bones and corpses buried within struck him with a visual shock he had never experienced in his pampered life.

He staggered back two steps, unable to suppress the nausea churning in his gut, and vomited on the spot.

He nearly retched up his very bile!

“Master, are you all right?” the guard asked in alarm, hurrying to steady him.

“I’m fine,” the manor lord replied, waving his hand and gasping for breath. “Are these the remains of the missing servants?”

“Judging from their clothes, they should be,” the guard replied with certainty.

“Enough,” the manor lord said, steadying his breath and forcing himself to calm down. “Have the men dig out all these remains, take them to the paupers’ graveyard, and fill in this pit.”

The guard bowed. “As you command!”

“And another thing…” The manor lord cast a fierce glance at the entire orchard, heavy with ripening peaches. “Cut down every peach tree, dig up the roots, and burn them all. I want every last one gone!”

In just another week or so, the peaches would have been ripe for picking—ready to be sent to the county seat, sure to fetch a good price. But now, profit was the last thing on the manor lord’s mind. For the rest of his life, he never wanted to see another peach tree.

While Zhao Manor descended into chaos under the lord’s frantic orders, Taoist Pang and Fang Xiao returned to Little Jing Mountain.

The whole way back, Fang Xiao relied on nothing but his own sturdy legs, while Taoist Pang rode leisurely on his big blue donkey, enjoying the journey immensely.

Pity the poor donkey. Though robust and strong, after carrying the two-hundred-and-eighty-pound Taoist all the way, it arrived at the base of the mountain drenched in sweat, its long face filled with misery, its former rebellious pride utterly vanished.

At last, after much effort, it carried the Taoist to the temple gate and was finally able to catch its breath.

“Sophora!”

Fang Xiao immediately spotted the little girl sitting on the steps at the door, a bamboo basket at her side.

She was hugging her knees, dozing off, but woke with a start at the sound of Fang Xiao’s call. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she broke into a bright, happy smile as she saw him. “Brother Fang!”

Fang Xiao went over and took her hand. “Why are you sleeping out here? It’s not safe at all!”

Although the little monsters around the temple had been cleared out several times by Taoist Pang, who could guarantee another one wouldn’t come wandering by? He was truly a little angry.

Sophora lowered her head, nervously twisting her clothing. “I wanted to wait for you to come back, but I must have fallen asleep…”

Seeing her timid expression, Fang Xiao’s heart immediately softened. “Don’t do this again.”

She nodded, stealing a sly glance up at him, a playful glint in her eye.

Fang Xiao didn’t notice. He reached into his satchel and took out a piece of milk candy he had prepared, expertly slipping it into her mouth.

“Thank you, Brother!” she said, the candy sweetening her voice even more.

Fang Xiao couldn’t help but ruffle her hair.

“Ahem!” Taoist Pang, who had been sitting on the big blue donkey this whole time, finally couldn’t take it anymore. He coughed loudly. “That’s enough, you two! I’m not dead yet, you know!”

Though he was loath to admit it, seeing the innocent bond between Fang Xiao and Sophora filled him with deep envy.

“Ah!” Sophora exclaimed, suddenly remembering something. She hurriedly picked up the basket. “Master Taoist, my mother made your favorite pork pies today. They’re still warm!”

“Oh, wonderful!” At the mention of Widow Qin, Taoist Pang’s broad face broke into a huge grin. He couldn’t wait to jump off the donkey and take the basket from Sophora, beaming. “Honestly, I’d eat anything your mother makes. Of course, pork pies are the best!”

With a flick of his sleeve, the basket disappeared into his robes. He turned to Fang Xiao. “It’s getting dark. You’d better take Sophora home.”

Fang Xiao had no objection. “All right.”

“One more thing.” Taoist Pang pointed carelessly at the big blue donkey. “From now on, you’ll be in charge of this dumb beast—washing, brushing, feeding it. Just don’t let it die.”

Fang Xiao followed the direction of his finger, locking eyes with the donkey.

Heehaw! Heehaw!

The blue donkey shook its head and brayed twice, a look of defiance flashing in its eyes. Clearly, this ornery creature had no respect for Fang Xiao.

Just as Fang Xiao was considering whether he ought to follow Taoist Pang’s example and give the beast a couple of slaps, the Taoist pulled a leather pouch from his sleeve and handed it over. “These are spirit pellets for the beast. Only one per day, no more. When you run out, come to me for more.”

No sooner had Fang Xiao accepted the pouch than he noticed a change. The proud donkey immediately sidled up, its head nuzzling him obsequiously, drooling with anticipation.

Fang Xiao was speechless.

When he didn’t respond, the donkey grew anxious, lowering its head and rubbing his arm ingratiatingly—utterly shameless.

But in the next instant, as it cozied up to Fang Xiao, the blue donkey was suddenly struck with dread, sensing mortal danger.

From the corner of its eye, it caught sight of the little girl glaring at it fiercely, her gaze as sharp as knives, as if she would tear out its very heart and lungs.

Terrified, the donkey began to tremble.

“Don’t worry,” said the oblivious Fang Xiao, patting its head. “I’ll take good care of it.”

It was only a donkey, after all. An easy task! He’d herded sheep and cattle in his village as a child—livestock was nothing new to him.

He wrapped his hands around Sophora’s waist and lifted her onto the donkey’s back.

She giggled, secretly giving the donkey’s fur a sharp tug.

Heehaw—

The blue donkey yelped with pain, but dared not resist, letting Fang Xiao lead it down the mountain in utter submission.

It felt as if endless darkness awaited its days to come.