Ghost Face Asura 04

"Die, you fiend!"

The young heroes who had been preparing to leave all halted in their tracks.

"Father!" Mei Ruoxue gasped. He Wugui pulled her back, frowning.

The blade stopped just before Fang Zhiyi's eyes—he had caught it between two fingers.

The attacker's expression shifted, then he unexpectedly drew a second dagger from his waist with his left hand, thrusting it toward Fang Zhiyi's abdomen.

"Showing up after hours? That’ll cost extra," Fang Zhiyi muttered. His left hand shot out like a claw, seizing the man's wrist. A crisp snap followed, and beads of sweat broke out on the attacker's face, though he didn’t cry out.

Fang Zhiyi glanced back. "Old He, this one’s tougher than you. Didn’t even whimper."

He Wugui’s face darkened as he spat in annoyance.

"Lu Zhaoran, the Twin-Blade Wanderer? Even you’ve come?"

Hearing the familiar voice, Lu Zhaoran tilted his head slightly and spotted He Wugui, his eyes widening in surprise. A moment later, his other weapon was also disarmed.

"Fifty taels," Fang Zhiyi said coldly.

Lu Zhaoran was baffled. What was happening?

"Let’s go, let’s go. I’m starving," the onlooking young heroes said, slinging arms over shoulders as they wandered off. A gust of wind swept past, leaving Lu Zhaoran feeling like a fool.

That evening, another person joined the dinner table. After going through nearly the same routine as He Wugui, Lu Zhaoran, too, succumbed to the aroma of the food and dug in ravenously.

He Wugui wore a smug look, like a seasoned elder. "Well? How’s my cooking?"

Lu Zhaoran, mouth full, mumbled, "Mediocre. And you, colluding with a fiend—aren’t you ashamed of tarnishing the reputation of the 'Gentleman’s Sword'?"

"If you’ve got such pride, don’t eat! Starve, then!"

The two bickered relentlessly.

Meanwhile, Mei Ruoxue seemed lost in thought.

He Wugui noticed and asked softly, "What’s wrong, girl?"

Trembling, Mei Ruoxue pointed at the roasted venison leg. "This... this was the fawn I saved."

The table fell silent—except for Lu Zhaoran, who kept chewing.

"That arrow wound was distinctive. I remember... Father, you all..." Her voice quivered, on the verge of tears.

He Wugui shifted uncomfortably. He knew what Fang Zhiyi had done, but he’d considered it normal and never mentioned it.

Fang Zhiyi remained expressionless as he picked up a piece of meat. "Want some?"

Mei Ruoxue stared at him, eyes red.

"Enough already," He Wugui said, heart aching for the girl.

Fang Zhiyi spoke calmly. "Before this, you’ve eaten rabbit, venison, pheasant, boar... You always fought for the biggest share. You’ve even gained weight."

Mei Ruoxue looked down at herself—it was true.

"But I didn’t know! If I had—"

Fang Zhiyi raised a hand to cut her off. "Let’s skip the distant examples. Just tell me—how did you save that fawn?"

Mei Ruoxue answered reflexively, "I was playing in the mountains and saw it lying there, an arrow in its leg. It looked so pitiful, so I... You’re all so cruel!"

As she began to protest again, Fang Zhiyi interjected, "Beyond the two mountains behind us, there’s a village. In it lives a hunter whose wife died young, leaving only his blind mother and three-year-old child. Every day, he treks through the woods, gathering firewood and hunting to earn enough for his mother’s medicine. Today, because you saved that deer, he returned empty-handed. His child and mother cried from hunger at home."

Mei Ruoxue froze.

He Wugui gave Fang Zhiyi a complicated look. Even Lu Zhaoran stopped chewing.

"Am I the cruel one? The silk robe you wear—how many silkworms died for it? The pearl on your hairpin—it came from an oyster that had to die for it. And your winter fur coat—how many animals gave their lives for that? We’re not wealthy. Should we rob people to buy medicine for animals? Do you know how many common folk can’t even afford medicine when they’re sick?"

"That deer was full-grown, not a fawn. And that bird you saved—it was attacked by a hawk. Did you ever think the hawk would go hungry because of you? This is nature’s way. Plants wither and bloom; animals live and die. For humans to survive in this world, we must neither slaughter recklessly nor preach empty compassion while ignoring the necessities of life. What you must learn is reverence—for nature, for life—not mindless kindness."

"Giving meat to that poor family? That’s kindness. Building a nest for a bird? Also kindness. Respecting life doesn’t mean saving every creature. It means understanding—understanding people’s needs to survive, without abandoning compassion for all living things."

His words left Mei Ruoxue in prolonged silence. He Wugui seemed thoughtful. Lu Zhaoran frowned and resumed eating.

Only Old Lan muttered inwardly, Deputy Fang, you’re loaded. You’ve collected two or three hundred taels just from challenge fees lately...

The night passed without incident.

Mei Ruoxue seemed to have cried, but when she opened her door the next morning, the bird she’d saved was hopping cheerfully at her doorstep.

For the first time, He Wugui spoke to Fang Zhiyi without hostility. "Wasn’t that too harsh? The girl’s still young..."

Fang Zhiyi shrugged. "As a fiend, I might die any day. What happens to her then? If I don’t teach her reality now, she’ll be trampled on later."

He knew Mei Ruoxue was eavesdropping.

From that day on, Mei Ruoxue seemed to mature. She even pestered Fang Zhiyi to teach her martial arts—a request both He Wugui and Lu Zhaoran vehemently opposed. They offered to instruct her instead, much to Fang Zhiyi’s relief. He focused instead on filling her head with tales of the Jianghu’s dangers and deceptions.

After a nudge from Little Hei, Fang Zhiyi learned that "Lin Muran" had arrived.

To his surprise, Mei Ruoxue didn’t bring the half-dead boy home. She hesitated, watching the unconscious youth, then ran back to inform Fang Zhiyi. She wasn’t sure if the boy was faking—after all, she knew Fang Zhiyi’s identity. Mei Ruoxue had grown cautious.

By the time Fang Zhiyi arrived eagerly, Lin Muran was already gone.

Little Hei explained: The transmigrator took over. He woke up and left on his own.

"Tsk. The protagonist’s luck really is something," Fang Zhiyi drawled, his gaze piercing as he stared at Little Hei.

Little Hei fidgeted, unsure where to put his hands.

Fang Zhiyi didn’t blame him for the lack of warning. As an awakening fragment of the Heavenly Dao, it was a miracle Little Hei wasn’t actively aiding the protagonist.

The world’s will was meddling again. But this harem-seeking protagonist’s future wouldn’t be smooth sailing.

Outside Fang Zhiyi’s bamboo grove, visitors came and went these days—some even forgetting why they’d come in the first place.