Chapter 373 — Setting the Sky Ablaze
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
Wang Muran and the others were rather puzzled. Shen Mu had ridden the dragon qilin at what was plainly a snail's pace, yet somehow he had still arrived ahead of them. Could it be that this fat brute had been hiding its true strength all along, playing the pig to eat the tiger?
The three of them went up to exchange greetings. Long Yu looked much better than he had a few days before, no longer raving, with some color back in his face.
"This is our blacksmith, Grandpa Mojiang," Shen Mu said, introducing him to the others.
Mojiang grinned wide and handed the wooden box to Wang Muran. Shen Mu said hurriedly, "Don't take it!"
Wang Muran froze, his hand not reaching out. Mojiang pursed his lips and mumbled a string of gibberish, grumbling that Shen Mu had no respect for his elders.
Shen Mu did not explain. He knew all too well just how heavy Mojiang's box was. If Wang Muran had taken it, he would surely have been crushed down to the very heart of the earth.
If the village ever held a contest for Worst Old Man, Shen Mu would cast his vote for Mojiang without the slightest hesitation!
True, ever since he was small the Lame Old Man had swindled him out of every last candied hawthorn, but the Lame Old Man had at least been playing with him. After biting off two of the hawthorns, he would hand the rest back to the tearful boy.
Mojiang, though, was the village's truly sneaky, rotten-hearted villain, his belly brimming with wicked schemes. From childhood to now, the number of times Shen Mu had been duped by Mojiang was beyond counting.
"A couple of days ago, the fighting suddenly stopped. We don't know what happened."
Wang Muran said, "We were on the road when we stopped sensing those auras of gods clashing. But judging by the direction, the place where they fought should be somewhere between Shuzhou and Bazhou."
He took out a map of the Kingdom of Jingping, located Shuzhou and Bazhou, and marked a spot between them.
Shen Mu was slightly startled. That was exactly where Grandma Zhu lived!
"The place where those gods fought isn't far from Granny. I fear Granny may be in danger!"
Unease stirred in his heart, but the village headman and Qingyou Shanren and the others had already gone there first. They traveled faster; they ought to have arrived long ago.
Mu Qingdai said, "We're not far from there now, less than a thousand li. We can get there in half a day!"
Shen Mu took out the golden flute and blew it with his vital essence. "It won't take half a day."
A flood dragon, linked to Shen Mu in spirit, gave a shake and transformed into a colossal creature tens of zhang long. Shen Mu leaped onto its back, and the dragon qilin leaped up after him.
"Climb on, all of you. In half an hour at most, we'll be there," Shen Mu said.
Wang Muran and the others exchanged startled, doubtful looks, then one after another leaped onto the flood dragon's back. The great stag leaped up as well, casting a dubious glance at the flood dragon, then another dubious glance at the dragon qilin standing on the flood dragon's back too.
The dragon qilin eyed its nose and its heart, head lowered, staring at the tip of its own nose, pretending not to see the contempt in the stag's gaze.
Mojiang, lugging his box, jumped up as well. The flood dragon, so fierce and imposing a moment before, was instantly pressed flat to the ground like a dead snake, its four claws scrabbling this way and that, gouging furrows in the earth, yet it could not rise to its feet.
"Grandpa Mojiang, get down, get down!"
Shen Mu said in alarm, "You're crushing him to death!"
Mojiang climbed down sulkily and made a gesture with his hand. Shen Mu's face flushed red. "Grandpa Mojiang, why are you cursing at me? It's not that I'm unfilial to you, it's that your box is too heavy... See, you're cursing again!"
Wang Muran and the other two looked at one another.