* * *
The rhythmic thuds echoed once more, a knock on the door that was unaccompanied by any voice from beyond. Gao Lei frowned, making his way to the entrance and pulling it open.
Standing before him was a young boy, no more than thirteen or fourteen years of age, with a face still tinged with the innocence of youth. In his hands, he carried a basket filled with an assortment of meats, wine, and other delicacies, clearly sent by Chief Tu Mabu.
The boy extended the basket, and Gao Lei nodded, saying, “Thank you.”
The boy grinned, but only managed to utter a muffled, “Eyah,” causing Gao Lei to pause. This young lad, it seemed, was mute, explaining the silence after the knocking.
Gazing at the boy, Gao Lei noticed the patches sewn onto his clothes, indicating that they had been worn for a long time. This was quite a contrast to the fine attire of the Miao people he had seen in the streets of Qili Dong. It was evident this boy held a low status, likely even an orphan.
At the thought, Gao Lei felt a pang of sympathy, but the boy, smiling and turning away, seemed not to be troubled. He walked off, his gait and expression showing no signs of sadness, but rather a certain joy.
As Gao Lei watched the boy’s retreating figure, a strange unease filled his heart. With a soft sigh, he turned and closed the door, shutting out the world outside.
The sun began to set, casting the sky into a deepening twilight. One by one, the homes of the Miao people in Qili Dong lit up with warm, flickering lights. From each window, a soft, yellow glow shone through, like silent eyes in the night.
Each household, bathed in the light, held its own story and life, its own hopes and fears.
Gao Lei stood by the window, gazing towards the distant Miao village, lost in thought. The night breeze began to pick up, carrying the distant, joyful laughter of the Miao people, and the occasional barking of a dog. These sounds, though, only highlighted the tranquility of the land.
Perhaps, these simple Miao folk found more joy than those who walked the path of cultivation.
Gao Lei slowly closed the window, sealing himself off from the world beyond. Turning, he found Xiao Bai, who had been sleeping quietly, now sitting up, leaning against the wall, her eyes fixed on him.
He looked at her, asking, “Are you awake?”
Xiao Bai smiled, rubbing her forehead gently, “Is there tea? I could use a cup; my head hurts.”
Gao Lei walked to the table, poured some water, and handed it to her, “There is no tea here. Drink some water.”
She nodded, took the cup, and sipped, seeming to perk up. After a moment, she glanced at Gao Lei, “Are you upset with me?”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head, “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have known the Great Shaman might be able to save Bi Yao. Let’s see him tomorrow.”
Xiao Bai nodded, “I was not very clear-headed after drinking. Have you met the Great Shaman of the Miao people yet?”
Gao Lei nodded, “I have. He confirmed he knows the soul-restoring technique, but he insists on knowing your background and how you came by this secret.”
A moment of silence passed, and then Xiao Bai said, “Let’s go see him together when the sun rises.”
Gao Lei nodded, but before he could say more, Xiao Bai laughed, “Look at this little monkey, drunker than I am!”
Gao Lei glanced at Xiao Hui, who was still sprawled on the bed, sound asleep. Shaking his head, he remained silent.
Xiao Bai reached out, petting Xiao Hui’s head, her gaze falling on the third eye on his forehead. After a moment, she looked up at Gao Lei, “There’s something I’ve been thinking about—Xiao Hui’s third spirit eye…”
Suddenly, a massive roar, like that of a dog, erupted in the sky above Qili Dong, shaking the mountains. Even Gao Lei and Xiao Bai, seasoned cultivators, felt their ears ring.
Both were startled, and Gao Lei quickly rushed to the door, flinging it open and stepping outside.
The reverberation of the roar still echoed through the valley, and the Miao people, now alerted, began to rush out of their homes, their faces etched with fear. Many were shouting the same phrase, though Gao Lei could not understand it.
Xiao Bai emerged behind him, her brow furrowed, “Something must be wrong.”
Gao Lei, sensing the gravity of the situation, asked, “What are they saying?”
Xiao Bai’s face grew serious, “That was the alarm of the Dog God, a sacred stone carving revered by the Miao. Such a warning is only issued in times of dire peril. I believe this has only happened once in a thousand years.”
Frustration welled up in Gao Lei’s heart. Just as Bi Yao’s fate rested on the mysterious Great Shaman, this strange event unfolded. As he pondered, the sky began to change.
Dark clouds gathered, obscuring the stars, and the winds howled eerily. The Miao people, now more frightened, began to run in all directions, some even kneeling in prayer towards the mountain where the Miao altar lay.
Under the darkening sky, the once festive land now seemed bleak.
Gao Lei frowned, “It seems someone from the cultivation world has arrived.”
Xiao Bai, gazing at the sky, asked, “Do you know who it is?”
Gao Lei shook his head, “This manipulation of the elements is unusual, not like the orthodox methods of the Central Plains or the dark arts of the Demon Sect.”
Xiao Bai’s lips moved, a strange look crossing her face, but she did not speak.
As the black clouds lowered, the Miao people struggled to breathe, their panic increasing. Suddenly, a figure leaped forward—Chief Tu Mabu. He shouted, calming the Miao people, and ordered the women and children to retreat, while the men, armed and ready, prepared for a fight.
Amidst the chaos, Tu Mabu caught sight of Gao Lei and Xiao Bai, nodding in acknowledgment before returning to his command.
The black clouds grew lower, and Xiao Bai, her face shifting between light and shadow, whispered, “These Miao people may not stand a chance against such a formidable cultivator. Will you help them?”
Gao Lei paused, then nodded, “Since Bi Yao depends on them…”
Suddenly, a thunderous roar erupted from the clouds, and a massive fireball descended, burning with a fierce, black flame. Trees and earth were scorched as it plummeted, and the Miao people screamed in terror. But the ball of fire, moving too fast, crashed to the ground, sending debris and flames flying, and cries of pain and despair filled the air.
Gao Lei, his face hardening, prepared to fly to their aid, but Xiao Bai pulled him back, “Wait, look there.”
Gao Lei followed her gaze to the Miao altar, where a thin, hunched figure stood, looking up at the sky. Despite the distance, Gao Lei recognized the silhouette—it was the Great Shaman.
The sky blazed with red, and a roar, half laugh, half scorn, echoed. The clouds burned, and the fire spread, like a scene from the end of days.
Amidst the chaos, the Miao warriors rallied, and the Liao people, with their fierce, tattooed chests, charged in. The Liao chief, a giant man, wielding a massive axe, cut down Miao warriors, his eyes filled with bloodlust.
Tu Mabu, his eyes burning with rage, shouted, “Liao! Two hundred years of enmity, today you will pay!”
As if in response, a deep, mysterious voice resonated, and a red light spread from the Great Shaman, extinguishing the flames. The Liao people, terrified by the mystical power, hesitated, while the Miao found new strength.
The Liao chief, undeterred, called upon his ancient god, and the Liao warriors, with renewed fury, surged forward. But the red light, growing stronger, formed a barrier, protecting the Miao and burning the Liao.
The battle raged on, and the skies were ablaze. The Great Shaman, though, was weakening, and the sky-god, with his terrifying power, seemed unstoppable.
Deep in the heart of the Liao leader, a darker plan took shape. Today, he would save his people, and the first step was to reclaim the Bone Jade, the sacred symbol of the Miao, and honor the god who had given him this power. The Liao people would be reborn, and their god would rule.
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