Chapter 207: Someone is Watching

“What’s wrong, Daoist?” Jin Shanzhao asked, stepping back slightly when he saw Li Huowang’s tension.

The black pottery jars in the distance appeared normal, like ordinary pickling jars. Their only distinctive feature was an inverted "fu" character pasted on each.

Li Huowang stared at the jars, his guard not dropping for a moment. “Something just looked at me from there!”

“Looked… looked at you?” Jin Shanzhao hesitated, once again scanning the distant jars. “Is there someone inside? But Daoist, those jars are too small to fit a person.”

“I didn’t say a person was looking at me!” Li Huowang resolutely spread out his *Daqian Lu* on the ground. His blood-stained fingernails swiftly flew out, easily cutting through the black pottery jars.

With a series of shattering sounds, the black pottery jars broke open, spilling brown brine mixed with salted vegetables onto the ground. Li Huowang’s vigilance didn’t waver. He carefully approached, using his sword to pry open the pottery shards and inspect them one by one.

After a thorough inspection, Li Huowang found nothing unusual. These jars were indeed just ordinary pickling jars.

The noise attracted the attention of someone inside the house. A trembling old woman with a cane shuffled over. “You rascal, why did you smash my vegetable jars! Pay up!”

Li Huowang sheathed his sword, pulled out some silver pieces from his pocket, and threw them at her feet. He then warily backed away, keeping his eyes on her.

“Daoist, where are you going? Weren’t we going to buy food?” Jin Shanzhao quickly followed.

“Let’s leave this place first. We’ll buy elsewhere!” After that incident, Li Huowang had completely lost trust in this village.

During such a critical period, Li Huowang preferred to be wrong in his suspicions rather than be ambushed by something. He refused to suffer such losses again.

As Li Huowang and his companion distanced themselves, the old woman did not try to stop them again. Instead, she leaned on her cane, bent down to pick up the silver pieces from the ground, and mumbled something with her toothless mouth, as if cursing.

After leaving the village, Li Huowang led his group onward, traveling late into the night.

They finally stopped in a bamboo forest. No matter what that gaze was, this distance was enough to be safe from danger.

A bonfire was lit, and the group began setting up their pots to cook. Although everyone was exhausted, they still needed to eat. Otherwise, their bodies wouldn't hold up.

Li Huowang didn't engage in these chores. He stood atop the ox cart's canopy, using his excellent vision to constantly survey the surroundings like a lookout.

Mantou seemed to understand Li Huowang’s thoughts, pressing his nose to the ground and sniffing in circles.

However, even after dinner, there was still nothing unusual, as if the gaze in the village earlier had been an illusion.

“Was I mistaken?” Li Huowang felt a flicker of doubt about himself. He had always been somewhat distrustful of his own perceptions.

But he quickly dismissed this unnecessary doubt. What was done was done; there was no need to hesitate.

“Senior Brother Li, dinner is ready. Come and eat.”

They ate bamboo shoot noodles, made from freshly gathered ingredients. The crisp sweetness of the bamboo shoots, despite the lack of meat, combined with a thick layer of rich lard in the noodle soup, greatly comforted Li Huowang’s empty stomach.

Around the bonfire, everyone ate heartily, the sounds of slurping soup and crisp bamboo shoots being bitten filling the air.

After eating their fill, drowsiness set in. The exhausted others lay directly in their blankets and closed their eyes.

Li Huowang was on night watch tonight. At this moment, he couldn’t trust anyone else.

Soon, apart from the crackling of the bonfire, there was no other sound in the bamboo forest.

Only Li Huowang remained, sitting by the bonfire, gently stroking Mantou’s soft fur.

However, he wasn't made of iron, and he soon felt tired.

He shook his head vigorously, but feeling that it didn’t dispel the drowsiness, Li Huowang pulled a sharp awl from his lower garment and plunged it directly into the palm of his right hand.

The blood made his Daoist robe even redder. The intense pain made Li Huowang’s body tense, instantly revitalizing him and dispelling all drowsiness.

“Little Daoist, perhaps I can take over for you. Old people don’t need much sleep.”

Though he couldn’t see the person, Li Huowang knew who was behind him from the sound of footsteps and the familiar scent of tobacco. “Troupe Leader Lü, go to sleep. We have to travel tomorrow. If you stand watch tonight, you won’t be able to handle it tomorrow.”

Lü Zhuangyuan sat beside Li Huowang, his face covered in wrinkles. He carefully pulled out three strands of tobacco from his pouch, mixed them with some dried leaves and debris from the ground, put them into his pipe, and lit it.

“Daoist, what do you think of my youngest son?”

“Hm?” Li Huowang glanced at Lü Xiucai, who was sleeping curled up against his older brother and sister-in-law.

He didn't have a very good impression of the boy. Not only was he timid, but he was always hesitant and indecisive in everything he did.

“Little Daoist, I know it’s a pipe dream, but I, an old man, still want to put aside my pride and ask if he can become your disciple?”

“That boy isn’t really an actor; he’s never sung. Please don’t mind that. I don’t expect you to teach him all your divine abilities. Even if he learns just one, it would be a blessing for our Lü family ancestors.”

No sooner had Lü Zhuangyuan finished speaking than he saw the young Daoist suddenly stand up.

“It followed us! Everyone wake up!” Li Huowang roared, startling the others who had just fallen asleep into rubbing their eyes and waking up.

“Prepare for battle!” Li Huowang said, then slowly walked into the nearby bamboo forest with his sword in hand. The normally vibrant green bamboo forest appeared exceptionally eerie under the shroud of darkness.

He hadn’t walked far when Li Huowang saw two white porcelain jars between the bamboo stalks.

The jars weren’t large, about the size of watermelons. Each had a long strip of red paper pasted on it, with some characters written in brushwork:

Deceased Mother: Honored Maternal Ancestor Yang ShironglingGrandfather: Honored Ancestor Li Gong Quanyou

These were clearly two urns, and the signs of previous offerings in front of them confirmed it.

Seeing these urns, Li Huowang hesitated. Should he really smash these urns? Who knew what might jump out of them?

After much thought, Li Huowang slowly retreated. The distant bonfire light gradually disappeared, and everyone began traveling again in the middle of the night.

Who knew how much time had passed, but the lids of the two urns slowly lifted. Two small children’s heads, with faces covered in white powder, emerged from inside.

They were clearly not ordinary children; their heads were only the size of a man’s fist.

The circular blush on their cheeks stood out strikingly against their pale faces.

The little figures exchanged glances and giggled. Then, their similarly powder-covered arms and legs extended through the urns.

Just as they were about to move, a figure descended from above, blocking their path.

Li Huowang gritted his teeth, his bloodshot eyes, tired from lack of sleep, glaring intently at the two strange beings before him.