Chapter Seven: Locust Blossoms
Deep within the forest, a band of grass spirits erupted into chaos.
Fang Xiao was like a fierce tiger charging into a flock of sheep, slaughtering these little monsters born from grass and wood until their ranks collapsed. In his left hand he gripped a three-pronged dagger, while his right wielded a military belt.
None could stand against him.
This method of fighting had been taught to Fang Xiao by Li Yuanchao. Truth be told, Fang Xiao was not particularly experienced in combat, but these grass spirits were nothing but weaklings. Their bodies, limbs, and heads were all entwined with dead vines and leaves, standing barely four feet tall. Lacking sharp claws or teeth, their strength was negligible. Their only threat lay in their numbers, swarming together.
But Fang Xiao was utterly undaunted.
He’d discovered that his military belt was a divine weapon against these grass spirits. The gleaming steel five-star buckle, whenever it struck a spirit’s head or abdomen, would shatter its body outright. Their defense was pitiful. Even blows to arms or thighs caused grievous injury.
Those whose limbs were smashed screamed in agony and terror, tumbling and scrambling deeper into the woods. A few, fierce and fearless, managed to leap onto Fang Xiao. But before they could wrap around him and drag him down, the three-pronged dagger in his left hand flashed its fangs. A single thrust to the head ended the spirit instantly.
At first, Fang Xiao was awkward and uncertain. But as spirit after spirit fell to his weapons, he grew ever more adept, reveling in the pleasure of beating down such weaklings.
Snap! Snap! Snap!
The crisp, resonant sound of strikes echoed again and again through the dense forest. For the surviving spirits, it was like a death knell—a curse summoning their doom.
Though they were unintelligent, the lowest of spirits, they still possessed the instinct for life. Sensing Fang Xiao’s ferocity, they scattered, shrieking as they fled.
“Bah!”
Fang Xiao halted, spitting a mouthful of rust-flavored saliva onto the ground. He did not give chase.
Brother Li Yuanchao had once said—never pursue a desperate foe! Especially in unfamiliar territory, where it was easy to fall into an ambush.
Most importantly, the fierce battle had drained Fang Xiao’s strength. His clothes were soaked with sweat.
He wiped the heat from his brow, stowed away his belt and dagger, and returned to the mountain path.
The little girl still stood where he’d left her, her face frozen in terror and bewilderment.
She looked as though she’d been frightened out of her wits.
Fang Xiao waved his hand in front of her, asking with concern, “Little sister, are you all right?”
She jolted in surprise, tears springing to her eyes in confusion.
“Don’t cry!”
This left Fang Xiao helpless; he hurried to comfort her. “Don’t be afraid, I chased the monsters away!”
Yet his words only made her tears flow faster.
Fang Xiao scratched his head.
Suddenly, inspiration struck.
He quickly rummaged through his pocket and pulled out—
A White Rabbit milk candy!
A rare treat indeed. When he boarded the train from the capital, Li Yuanchao’s mother had not only packed him food and money, but also stuffed his pockets full of White Rabbit candies.
Once on board, Fang Xiao generously handed out most of the sweets to his classmates, keeping only three for himself.
He’d already eaten one out of greed along the journey, leaving just two.
This morning, as he sorted his things after waking, he discovered this last bit of “rations.”
Fang Xiao, not stingy in the least, offered one to the girl.
Afraid she might not know how to eat it, he peeled off the wrapper and popped the candy directly into her mouth.
The little girl was startled, her eyes wide.
But in the next moment, her expression changed.
She forgot even to cry.
Fang Xiao said proudly, “This is a White Rabbit milk candy—delicious, isn’t it?”
The first time he’d tasted one, he was amazed, no calmer than the little girl now.
Seeing her still stunned, Fang Xiao said, “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”
She finally reacted, covering her mouth and shyly nodding.
Her gaze toward Fang Xiao now held a hint of gratitude.
He led her down the mountain, asking as they went, “What’s your name? Where do you live? Do you know Daoist Master?”
She followed closely behind, head lowered, cheeks puffed out and silent.
Fang Xiao paid no mind.
They walked a winding mile along the mountain path, until a village appeared in sight.
His eyes lit up.
A hundred or so earthen cottages and thatched huts lay scattered at the foot of the mountain, surrounded by lush green fields crisscrossed with paths; the sounds of chickens and dogs mingled in the air.
It was a bustling scene of human life.
Fang Xiao recalled Daoist Pang’s warning, so he stopped and said, “Little sister, I’ll leave you here.”
She nodded, then suddenly said, “My, my name is Sophora.”
Her mouth was still full of candy, words muffled.
But Fang Xiao understood, “Sophora, I’ll remember. Hurry home now!”
“Tha, thank you, brother!”
She bowed to him, then dashed down the path toward the village, feet flying.
Fang Xiao watched her until she disappeared into the village, then turned back toward Little Jing Mountain Temple.
Passing the stretch of mountain path where he’d rescued Sophora, Fang Xiao caught a glint in the grass.
His heart stirred, and he gripped his dagger as he approached.
There, on the ground, he found a sparkling, beautiful stone!
It was only the size of a fingertip, irregular in shape, resembling glass or a gemstone, and colored a vivid green.
He soon found a second, a third…
In the area where he’d beaten the grass spirits, he collected a total of eight such stones, all roughly the same size.
Finding them amusing, Fang Xiao thought little of it.
He pocketed them all and returned to the temple.
After resting in the courtyard for a while, he went to the kitchen, scooped up a ladle of water, and drank it down in one go.
Refreshing!
He took a deep breath, content, and lightly tapped the little booklet pressed against his chest.
[Red Sun Manual]
[Master of all martial arts, impervious to all methods, immune to all evils]
[Experience: 37]
[A truly strong heart must weather storms, scale heights and depths, witness life’s myriad forms; only the incapable cry out in complaint.]
Huh?
The words appearing in his vision made Fang Xiao pause.
He remembered that the booklet had previously displayed [Experience: 0].
Now it had become “37.”
What did this mean?
He recalled seeing [Experience +1] repeatedly while fighting the grass spirits.
He understood at once!
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