Chapter Twenty: Life Is Like a Play, All Depends on Acting

With the death of the alpha wolf, the entire pack underwent a sudden change. Rather than continuing their assault on the caravan, they all tilted their heads to the moon and let out a long, mournful howl. The sorrow in their voices was unmistakable. Then, as one, they turned and retreated, vanishing into the night-shrouded forest in the blink of an eye, leaving no trace behind. Their speed was even greater than when they had arrived. Fang Zheng breathed a sigh of relief; it seemed his earlier fears had been unfounded. The wolves had not chosen to fight to the death after all.

The elderly Taoist in white, who had earlier hidden behind the wagon hurling insults, now saw the wolves had retreated. Forgetting to curse at Zhao Zhong any further, he hurried to the spot where his talisman had fallen, busily searching the area until he found the charm in a clump of grass. Elated, he picked it up. No one knew what material the talisman was made from, but despite being trampled by the wolves, it remained completely undamaged. This astonished Fang Zheng as well.

Meanwhile, Zhao Zhong was occupied with cleaning up the battlefield and checking for casualties. The wolves had withdrawn quickly, but not before two guards were gravely wounded—one man had a large chunk of flesh torn from his thigh, blood gushing as he lay on the ground moaning, while the other had lost his entire left hand, clearly bitten off, and had fainted from the pain. The remaining guards were busy bandaging and tending to them.

Dragging the corpse of the white giant wolf back to the caravan, Fang Zheng considered its unusual value. While it was not one of the “demonic beasts” recorded in the books, its coloration was truly rare. From his past experience hunting and dealing with merchants, he knew this creature would fetch a high price. However, he had no intention of selling it. He planned instead to skin the beast and make a warm robe for the little girl to wear in winter—a gift that would surely keep her cozy.

Zhao Zhong, a man of seasoned experience, was aided by the elderly man surnamed Zhang. In less than half an hour, the guards had all returned to their posts, and the two injured men were treated and settled in the carriage previously used by Master Zhang. Fang Zheng marveled anew at the wonders of this world. The wounds the guards suffered would have been severe even by Earth’s standards, with stopping the bleeding alone a difficult challenge. Yet here, a simple bottle of medicinal powder stopped the bleeding and saved their lives. The miraculous effect amazed him. He mused that if he ever returned to Earth, simply bringing the recipe for this “wound-healing powder” would make him a fortune. But then he laughed at himself, for he suspected that the secret lay not in the technique, but in the unique herbs of this world, which, thanks to the presence of spiritual energy, endowed many creatures and plants with properties unheard of on Earth.

Once the caravan was back in order, Zhao Zhong and the elder Zhang approached Fang Zheng, who was cleaning bloodstains from “First Calyx.”

“Master Fang, once again we owe you our lives. I will not waste words on gratitude. When we reach Tianyu, I beg you to stay a few days so that I may properly repay your kindness as a host!” said Master Zhang with heartfelt sincerity. Zhao Zhong said nothing, but clasped his fists and bowed deeply to Fang Zheng in salute.

“Please, elder, there's no need for such courtesy. I will gladly accept your hospitality,” Fang Zheng replied with a smile.

At that moment, the white-robed Taoist, leaning on his young attendant, walked over. His legs still trembled—whether from fear or injury was unclear. “You two blind mortals, why have you not come to thank this immortal master? Without my mystical arts, you’d have been nothing but wolf-gnawed bones by now!” he proclaimed.

“We do thank the immortal master for his timely aid,” Master Zhang replied sincerely. “It was my oversight. When we reach Tianyu County, I will see to it that a suitable gift is prepared for you.” Zhao Zhong frowned slightly but remained silent.

“Hmph! That’s more like it. And you, boy—so ungrateful! If you had returned my immortal talisman sooner, my celestial beast would have slaughtered those wolves to the last. How could any have escaped?” The Taoist was still bitter over Zhao Zhong ignoring him earlier, his words filled with indignation.

But Zhao Zhong was not one to back down. A hardened man, he respected only those with true skill. Now, being scolded to his face by the Taoist, his temper flared. “Oh? If your arts are so powerful, why are you in such a sorry state? That ‘tiger’ was all bluster and no bite. In my eyes, it was nothing but a showy trick. Besides, it was Master Fang who drove the wolves away—what did you do?”

“You ignorant brat! Dare you belittle my immortal skills? Want to taste my power?” The Taoist’s outrage triggered a fit of violent coughing.

“I’d welcome the chance,” Zhao Zhong retorted. “But I suspect all you have are cheap tricks.” The Taoist’s face reddened in fury, but all he could do was splutter, calling Zhao Zhong a “witless child” over and over, making no other move.

“Commander Zhao, let it rest. This... this ‘immortal master’ did help us, after all,” Elder Zhang interjected, trying to ease the tension. Even he hesitated at how to address the Taoist, for he could see through the man’s act—he’d seen too many charlatans in his life. But he didn’t wish for Zhao Zhong to escalate the scene. His authority was clear; Zhao Zhong fell silent and walked away, unwilling to waste more breath on the Taoist.

“Please forgive Zhao Zhong, immortal master. He is blunt and ill-tempered. Don’t take it to heart.” With that, Master Zhang nodded politely to Fang Zheng and departed, his manner courteous but not especially warm.

The Taoist was left seething, standing right where he was, cursing Zhao Zhong with mounting fury, coughing even more violently as his emotions got the better of him. Fang Zheng found the scene amusing and couldn’t resist saying, “Immortal master, you’d best tend to your wounds first. It would be a shame to leave lasting harm.”

“Hmph!” The Taoist shot Fang Zheng a sidelong glance, unmoved, and let his attendant help him away. Fang Zheng merely shook his head, no longer interested in the matter. He was, however, quite curious about the Taoist; the secret of that talisman must be significant, but it would be rude to ask outright. He would have to wait for another opportunity on the road.

About half an hour later, full darkness had fallen. Just as Fang Zheng was preparing to practice his cultivation, the Taoist unexpectedly sought him out, as if with something to say. He stopped two steps from Fang Zheng, his expression still haughty. “Boy, you have some skill. Would you care to become my attendant? There would be benefits in it for you—elixirs, treasures, magical items. If you perform well, I will not be stingy.”

Fang Zheng found this amusing but kept his face impassive, deciding to probe the Taoist’s true abilities. “Thank you, master, for your kindness. But I have heard that the title ‘True Master’ is not lightly given; only those who have perfected both body and spirit may claim it, and I hear there are but a handful in the world. Might you be one of them?”

The Taoist was momentarily taken aback, not expecting Fang Zheng to be so knowledgeable, having caught him out on his self-aggrandizing title. Still, he quickly recovered, putting on an air of profound mystery. “You are astute. Since you’ve seen through me, I shall not hide it. I am indeed the Supreme Elder of the world’s foremost cultivation sect, the Celestial Talisman Sect. I have practiced for over three thousand years. Seeking novelty, I descended the mountain with my attendant to experience the mortal world and perhaps take on a few disciples. If you perform well, you may have your chance.”

He grew more convincing as he spoke, his expression becoming truly inscrutable.

“To be so favored by a true master is a stroke of fortune,” Fang Zheng replied, “but I am still marveling at your wondrous talismanic technique, turning a charm into a beast. Might I see this ‘celestial treasure’ with my own eyes, to satisfy a small wish?”

“This... Very well. You and I are fated to meet. I’ll let you take a look, but be careful—do not damage the treasure.” The Taoist produced the tiger talisman from his sleeve and handed it to Fang Zheng with great care.

Fang Zheng took it and examined it closely. The talisman was about the size of a palm and seemed to be made from some kind of beast hide. Its greenish surface was covered in densely packed red lines, depicting a fierce beast. The talisman glowed faintly green in Fang Zheng’s hand, clearly visible in the night. He recalled, however, that when the Taoist had used it earlier, the glow had been much brighter—its spiritual energy now somewhat depleted. Though the talisman was indeed remarkable, this was not what most concerned Fang Zheng. He wanted to uncover how the Taoist, clearly an ordinary man devoid of spiritual energy, had managed to activate such a magical item. Before he could study it further, the Taoist snatched the talisman back.

“Well, boy? My treasure shines with immortal light. Just recite the incantation, and it will transform into a tiger to strike down foes—formidable indeed. Yet this is but a minor trick. My true powers can move mountains and fill seas. If you serve as my attendant, you may one day witness them, and perhaps even learn a technique or two.”

“I would be honored,” Fang Zheng replied sincerely. “But the road ahead is fraught with danger—tonight we met wolves, and who knows what lies ahead. I know only a little crude swordplay, and I fear I may be unable to protect you adequately. Does master perhaps possess some magical art or treasure that even mortals like myself can wield? If you could grant me even a little, I could better ensure your safety.”

“This...”