Chapter 25: The Generous Zhang Kai and the Red-Tailed Wasp

Upon entering the mountain forest, their pace slowed considerably, and even by nightfall, they had not reached the foot of Snowpeak Mountain. The night was dangerous, so the group camped on a flat patch of ground. Everything was arranged by Gu Mingyu’s men, leaving Zhang Kai to relax at the side, watching the old fortune-teller chat idly with the Daoist priest named Chongming.

To Zhang Kai’s surprise, this Chongming Daoist was not from the mainland, but a priest from Treasure Island; yet he claimed to inherit from the Mount Lao sect. Zhang Kai was skeptical about this, for Chongming’s aura of magical power was faint, while the presence of evil was strong—hardly the mark of a righteous lineage.

Furthermore, Chongming’s disciple lingered incessantly around the girl with twin ponytails, fawning and ingratiating, mouth twisted in admiration, nearly drooling—a ludicrous display.

But what intrigued Zhang Kai most was the boy brought from Duqiao Town by the old fortune-teller. The lad was suffused with the scent of herbs, carrying a small bag, shy and introverted by appearance. Yet, during their journey through the mosquito-ridden forest, while others suffered bites, not a single insect dared approach him. Clearly, the fortune-teller’s purpose in bringing the boy was more than mere business.

“Why has Daoist Zhang been so silent? Brother Zhou says you hail from the Maoshan tradition, skilled in talismans. Might you allow us to witness your craft?” A sudden voice brought Zhang Kai back to the present; it was Chongming, smiling amiably.

Zhang Kai grinned. “Brother, you flatter me. I am but a humble student, far inferior to you both in cultivation. As for talismans, I am ashamed to say I have only mastered two: one to ward off evil, one to protect the bearer. My power is limited, so my supply is modest—I dare not waste them.”

“Oh? Daoist, you have made protective and warding talismans?” Chongming’s eyes lit up. “Brother Zhou, these forbidden lands are perilous. Talismans are the best safeguard. My disciple and I have our own meager skills, but they pale beside your arts. If you would spare a few, I am willing to purchase them.”

Zhang Kai’s heart stirred. He replied with a smile, “Of course, no problem. I am a junior and rely on the care of seniors.” With that, he drew his backpack close and took out a stack of talismans.

“These are five protective talismans and three warding ones—the only successful ones I possess. I will keep a single protective talisman for myself, and the rest I can share. As for payment, let’s not speak of it; we are allies now, and should help each other.”

He looked sincerely at Chongming.

“Daoist Zhang, your virtue and true cultivation are evident,” Chongming said, a touch of excitement in his voice. In this age of declining spiritual power, genuine talismans are priceless treasures, unattainable even for money. With a handful of protective and warding talismans, they could face many dangers.

Even the old fortune-teller glanced at Zhang Kai in surprise. So generous—willing to part with such treasures? The fortune-teller himself was tempted. “I’ll take one protective talisman; it’s a precious life-saving item.”

“I’d like one as well,” Gu Mingyu came over, her gaze fixed on the talismans.

Zhang Kai smiled. “Distribute them as you see fit, as long as none are wasted.” Soon, the protective and warding talismans were allocated: Chongming and his disciple, the old fortune-teller, and Gu Mingyu each received a protective talisman, while Chongming collected all the warding talismans for emergencies.

For a moment, thanks to Zhang Kai’s selfless contribution, their small chatting group grew considerably closer, laughing and speaking as if they were old friends. After a simple supper and discussion of the upcoming journey and possible hazards, everyone retired early.

Time passed slowly; the night was dark, the wind high, the forest tranquil. Zhang Kai sat in his tent, meditating and refining his inner power, when suddenly his eyes snapped open, sharp and alert. He had heard a peculiar, irritating sound—numerous, and coming swiftly closer.

A sense of caution rose within him. He quickly gathered his inner force and listened intently. The noise grew nearer, resembling the rapid beating of wings—like bees, only in overwhelming numbers, creating a cacophony.

At once, a name surfaced in his mind: Red-Tailed Bee.

One of the three great venomous insects of Snowpeak Mountain, their sting was excruciating, capable of killing through pain. They were abundant throughout the region. Though fiercely poisonous, the Red-Tailed Bee was a nocturnal creature, dwelling deep within the forest, rarely seen by outsiders.

Who would expect, upon their arrival, to immediately encounter one of the three venomous pests? Truly, this was worthy of its reputation as the burial ground of gods and demons—the danger was palpable even at the periphery.

Sighing inwardly, Zhang Kai pulled his tent closed as tightly as possible and sat inside to watch the unfolding drama.

Why offer talismans so generously? It was a way to give himself an exit—to let others fight to the death while he followed behind, picking up the spoils.

As the saying goes, one is indebted to those who have helped them; Zhang Kai did nothing, yet felt at ease.

Just then, he heard movement from other tents. Clearly, the group had noticed the situation.

Soon after, a terrible scream pierced the night—someone had been stung by a Red-Tailed Bee.

The camp descended into chaos: flames flickered, figures ran about. Swarms of Red-Tailed Bees flooded the campsite, attacking madly.

“Hmm?” Zhang Kai was quietly observing when his eyes suddenly shifted toward a specific direction. He sensed an aura unlike the true energy of cultivators—demonic energy?

Among the Red-Tailed Bees, one had become a spirit!

Zhang Kai was astonished. Since entering the forest, he had searched for traces of spiritual energy, but found none—the revival brought by the Confucian god had not yet restored ordinary forests to such vitality. Yet now, he discovered a demon bee!

Clearly, Snowpeak Mountain contained spiritual lands, where the revival of spiritual energy had benefited the Red-Tailed Bees, elevating some from ignorance to spiritual beings.

This was intriguing. With a spirit insect commanding them, the bees would be much harder to deal with.

Sure enough, before long, Gu Mingyu’s urgent voice rang out: “Everyone, prepare to retreat! Leave everything behind and run—head toward Snowpeak Mountain!”

At her command, the group scattered without hesitation, fleeing in all directions.

Zhang Kai pondered briefly, then shouldered his pack and left his tent. Glancing around, he saw most had already escaped; the rest were either writhing on the ground or surrounded by swarms of Red-Tailed Bees, unable to break free.

He had no intention of helping. He locked onto the direction where the old fortune-teller and the boy had fled and followed.

After a few steps, a swarm of Red-Tailed Bees surrounded him.

Zhang Kai narrowed his eyes, glaring fiercely at the red-tailed spirit bee’s location. Attack me? Do you wish to die?

Even at a distance of ten meters, the red-tailed spirit bee sensed a tremendous threat, and in an instant, it shot from the tree and fled.

With their leader gone, the swarm scattered in confusion, flying everywhere.

Zhang Kai ignored the chaos, waved his hand to kill those mindless bees charging at him, and then turned to pursue the old fortune-teller.