Chapter 230 — Heaped With Evil Deeds
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
"Phooey, phooey — great fortune, great prosperity. The monks of Little Thunderclap Temple haven't found their way here."
Qixia'er asked curiously: "What wicked thing did you do, that you're hunted wherever you go?"
"Probably because I'm too outstanding?"
Shen Mu lifted his head and thought it over, and felt there could be no mistake in that: "I'm too outstanding, and it draws envy, so wherever I go, someone's out to kill me."
He waved farewell. Qixia'er said hastily: "If I have the time, I'll come find you to play — don't let your elders kill me!"
"All right!"
The sun sank behind the western hills, and Shen Mu came at last to Hidden Remnant Village. He had barely entered when a dozen plume-crested fire pheasant dragons, each taller than a man, gathered around him with unfriendly looks.
At their head was that old hen. The moment she set eyes on Shen Mu she grew agitated, raised a wing to point at him, and clucked and cackled without cease at the other pheasant dragons, as though telling them that this young rascal was the egg thief.
"I've only been away a little over half a year, and the village has gained this many plume-crested fire pheasant dragons."
Shen Mu, as if facing a mighty foe, shouted: "I am not what I was! I am now the Holy Master of the Heavenly Sage Cult — even if you chickens have the numbers, I fear you not at all!"
"Cluck! Cluck-cluck-cluck—"
The flock surged madly over him and swallowed him up. These pheasant dragons had feathers like swords, breathed fire like dragons, and claws that could split metal and shatter stone; they were savage beyond measure.
Seeing this, Xuehu'er said hurriedly: "Young Master, I'll go home and take a look first!" And with that she was gone in a puff of smoke.
A while later, Shen Mu, panting, drove the flock back. His head and face were scratched bloody, his hair was in disarray with a few chicken feathers stuck in it, and the old hen led her flock away, strutting proudly, to patrol the village.
The Demon King of Dutian laughed in gloating delight: "You little wretch, you can't even beat a flock of chickens!"
Shen Mu plucked the feathers from his hair: "And you're the one who was beaten by a fellow who can't even beat a flock of chickens. Granny! Headman! I'm back! You saw me bullied by a flock of chickens and never came to save me! Eh? Why is no one here?"
Shen Mu made a circuit of the village, astonished.
The headman's room and the alchemist's room were empty too; none of the others had come back either, and he found only a few notes.
Shen Mu opened them. The first said that the headman, the alchemist, the Demon Cult Patriarch and the rest had gone to seek the Land of No Sorrow, and that if a villager returned, he should first help the alchemist feed the insects.
The second was in the butcher's hand, saying that the headman and the others had not returned for a long time, and that, fearing for their safety, the blind elder and the butcher had gone to look for them.
The third was left by the silent craftsman: the blind elder and the butcher had not come back, so he was going to find them.
The fourth was left by the lame elder and Old Master Huo: the headman and the others might have run into danger, and since they were swift of foot, they would go and search.
The fifth was left by Granny Zhu: those old fellows were a worry, so she had gone out to fetch the old things back, and Shen Mu was not to go running about when he returned.
"Granny and the rest are all such a worry."
Shen Mu shook his head, set down his baggage, went to the herb plot outside the village, picked a few leaves of spirit medicine, opened the clay jar before the alchemist's door and put them in. Inside the jar, a swarm of starving insects at once fought madly over the food.
Shen Mu went into the alchemist's house, rummaged out a few spirit pills, crushed them and scattered them into the other jars, then washed his hands and cooked a meal.
"These cracked clay jars..."