Chapter 21 We Shall See When the Time Comes; This Illness Is Difficult to Cure

Page 1/3

Lin Zhao’s heart tightened as he finally could not hold back; a slender feather, fine as a needle, shot from his fingertip and struck the soldier’s neck. He wanted to draw out the corruption before the man entered the sacred wood fire. Ji Yaoguang’s hand, which had reached out to stop him, retreated halfway with a faint sigh.

In an instant, the soldier burst into flames—brilliant and dazzling like the blazing sun. Countless ashes flew off his body, shimmering briefly before disappearing into the wind. Within moments, a complete suit of armor fell to the ground with a dull thud, collected tearfully by the soldiers waiting nearby.

From start to finish, the soldier never glanced around, nor did he care who had shot that feather-like needle. Such attempts were common; many shamans tried to save their comrades. Over the years, Ji Yaoguang had witnessed countless comrades depart but never saw one saved.

Lin Zhao’s face went pale as he stared in disbelief at his own hand, then turned to Ji Yaoguang. “His constitution was too weak. The corrosion had already replaced his flesh and blood, so he couldn’t bear your Golden Crow fire,” Ji Yaoguang said softly. “Ah Zhao, you still don’t understand: the weaker one is, the harder it is to resist corrosion. Even among human shamans, those who can withstand it are one in ten thousand. Humans grow cold the farther they are from the sun; too close, and they die.”

“Can’t you save him either?” Lin Zhao asked, looking at the remaining dozen or so soldiers.

“Maybe before, but not now,” Ji Yaoguang replied with regret. “His human essence has been corrupted, becoming part of the calamity. To save him, his body must first be restored. If he were at the ‘human shaman’ level, after driving away the calamity, his body could self-repair, and then he might be saved.”

He could have shared the burden with his former wooden heart to resist corrosion and regenerate his body, but the wooden hearts he cultivated each year were scarce, reserved as top military rewards for the nation’s chief shamans or powerful defenders against great dangers. Low-ranking soldiers likely hadn’t even heard of them.

Lin Zhao clenched his fists, glancing at the wailing child nearby. He now understood: if the body couldn’t be restored, then the Golden Crow fire would only serve as kindling.

“Is there really no other way?”

“This is because he delayed too long,” Ji Yaoguang placed a hand on his shoulder. “If the sacred wood and sacrifices were used regularly to cleanse the corrosion, the decay would be so slow it might not reach this stage even by the end of one’s natural life. Or once corrosion reaches a certain level, one should stop fighting and avoid contact with those corrupted creatures to prevent this outcome.”

“True,” the stall owner listening nearby sighed in sympathy. “But guarding the Great Wall brings the fastest money. Death benefits are high. If you can’t use shamanic power and become a useless shaman, you won’t earn anything, become a burden, and still have to pay to clear corrosion... Life like that is worse than death.”

“Can’t they be given some money each month? They’ve served the Di Kingdom,” Lin Zhao suggested, aware of resource scarcity but feeling pity for these people.

“There is some, but just enough for food and living expenses,” the stall owner waved off the topic and reminded them, “You’ve been here two days already. Leave soon; the outer city’s calamity energy is strong. The longer you stay, the more you’ll have to pay to clear corrosion.”

Lin Zhao looked at the weathered face of the stall owner. “You don’t seem very strong yourself. Why sell goods in the outer city if you can’t resist the calamity energy?”

“It’s more expensive here than in the inner city,” the stall owner smiled. “My boy failed his first shamanic rite but tried a second time. Once I earn enough for his second rite, I won’t stay here anymore.”

“Are the rite materials expensive?” Lin Zhao recalled his own rite when the old shaman handled everything without asking for money.

“Not really,” the stall owner laughed casually. “The first rite for apprentices is free. The Di Kingdom subsidizes half the cost of the second. Only the third rite is full price. Besides, I wouldn’t let them do a third one.”

Lin Zhao wanted to ask more but was already pulled away by Ji Yaoguang.

“By the third rite, accumulated soul pollution might directly corrupt the initiate into a primal ghost, with about a one in five chance. So the sect doesn’t recommend a third rite,” Ji Yaoguang explained as they walked. “But becoming a shaman is the only chance to change one’s fate. Many young people would rather die fighting for this chance.”

“Twenty percent mortality is really high,” Lin Zhao said, heart aching. “Isn’t it possible to live as an ordinary person instead?”

Page 2/3

“It’s hard to live as an ordinary person,” Ji Yaoguang said helplessly. “You’ve never seen the Great Wall fall...”

Unable to continue, he changed the subject. “Ahead is the inner city. Let’s go in.”

Lin Zhao gathered his heavy thoughts and followed him to a low, ten-meter-tall grayish-blue city wall, where they queued up.

Looking up, he saw the wall was made of wood, already somewhat decayed. Purple moss grew in many places. Children in black-and-white uniforms, about eight or nine years old, carefully scraped the moss off with small white shovels, placing it in their bags. Some moss grew high up on the wall, and the kids climbed like geckos to clear it—an obviously dangerous task.

“Those are shaman apprentices,” Ji Yaoguang told Lin Zhao. “The entire wall is built from sacred wood. The moss has mild medicinal properties and is used as an auxiliary ingredient in totem paintings. This is their monthly mandatory labor and a way to acclimate to the outer city atmosphere.”

Watching the children’s earnest faces, Lin Zhao’s heart grew heavy. The inner city must be even more oppressive.

—

At the end of the line, Lin Zhao saw a coin slot with a sign stating the fee: one gold shell per entry, no bargaining. More than half the money from their basket of grapes was gone in an instant.

Entering the inner city, he was stunned by the sight.

Bamboo groves, bustling crowds, prosperity, festive atmosphere.

Golden-edged emerald bamboos naturally arched over the street, forming a high, vaulted corridor.

On both sides, exquisite bamboo houses stretched out, staggered in height. The purple sunlight filtered through the golden bamboo, casting dappled golden patterns on the open ground. Just standing there, Lin Zhao could feel the sunlight filtered through the bamboo, making corrosion almost negligible. Clear water flowed through bamboo pipes and small water features, goldfish flicking their tails—a scene like a paradise beyond this world.

The streets teemed with people. Various animal-drawn carts creaked along the road. Near the inner city exit, a dozen small carts sold various foods. Each had signs and vendors shouting, instantly reminding Lin Zhao of the snack plaza outside his school.

“Hey, young man, want some hot mixed vegetables?” A middle-aged woman nearby called out warmly. “Our Di Kingdom’s best bamboo shoots, chives, pork, and bean sprouts, with my secret sauce—delicious! Give it a try!”

Lin Zhao was nearly moved to tears.

He had simulated life here for four years—mostly raw food or fruit, sometimes starving enough to eat dirt. He barely remembered what a proper meal tasted like.

“I’ll have one!” he replied eagerly, then looked at Ji Yaoguang. “Want some?”

Ji Yaoguang smiled, “Sure!”

He sat down naturally on a small stool by the stall, picked up chopsticks, and skillfully handed some to Lin Zhao.

The table was small and the stools low. Sitting opposite each other, Lin Zhao’s messy hair nearly touched Ji Yaoguang’s hair crown.

Ji Yaoguang thought idly that their family’s old dining table was too large, with people sitting too far apart. This table was just right.

Soon, two bowls of hot vegetables arrived, each topped with a generous spoonful of spicy sauce.

Lin Zhao sniffed appreciatively, stirred it, then bowed his head and ate heartily.

Page 3/3

Ji Yaoguang pushed the spicy sauce aside and carefully picked bean sprouts, chewing slowly while quietly watching Lin Zhao enjoy his meal.

The more he watched, the deeper the smile grew at the corner of his mouth.

Only after Lin Zhao finished the big bowl and drank the soup did Ji Yaoguang realize he had unknowingly eaten all the meat—the kind he disliked most.

“That’ll be twenty blue shells,” the stall owner said warmly.

Ji Yaoguang reached to pay but remembered the money bag was with Ah Zhao and looked at him expectantly.

Lin Zhao generously pulled out a golden shell from his pocket and handed it to the woman.

“A big shell!” The woman rubbed her hands on her apron, accepted the shell, and lightly blew on it. A soft, wave-like whistle emerged from the shell as she smiled and said, “Please wait a moment, I’ll get some change.”

She went to the neighboring stall and after a moment returned, dumping a pile of blue shells on the table: “Two hundred eighty blue shells, please check.”

Lin Zhao glanced over. “That’s correct. Thank you, auntie, your food is especially delicious.”

A smile of gratitude and satisfaction spread across the woman’s face.

Lin Zhao waved, grabbed the shells, put them in his pocket, and left the stall with Ji Yaoguang, looking around.

“The inner city and outer city are worlds apart.”

The outer city was oppressive, dangerous, and bloody, while the inner city was peaceful, prosperous, and safe—two completely different worlds.

“If those we protect must always live in fear and danger, what meaning does our protection have?” Ji Yaoguang smiled faintly. “If we don’t give the people safety and joy, how can warriors die peacefully?”

Lin Zhao’s heavy heart lightened considerably. Looking at Ji Yaoguang, he suddenly said, “I now believe you were ‘gifted’ to the Vast Sea.”

Ji Yaoguang’s smile froze briefly, then he smiled wryly. “Choosing to die oneself is always more dignified than being forced. So, I understand those soldiers’ feelings.”

“But Yaoguang,” Lin Zhao said seriously, “Whatever choice you made, you are all heroes.”

Ji Yaoguang blushed but then smiled with relief. “It’s just what should be done...”

“So, where do we go next?” Lin Zhao, a little embarrassed at praising the old tree, quickly changed the subject.

Walking along the emerald bamboo corridor, Ji Yaoguang pondered: “We must go to the central city of the Shaman Kingdom. The Di Kingdom is over three thousand li away. We need permits from the Di king, the Heavenly Feather Army, and the Da Qingchuan road guards. We’ll have to figure out how.”

Lin Zhao was shocked. “The capital? It’s not like going west on a pilgrimage. They actually require travel permits?”

Ji Yaoguang said softly, “The Shaman Kingdom is even larger than the ruined shaman nation you saw.”