Chapter Fifty: The Bewitching Potion

Fairness Town, a winding river.

This river belongs to the Binhe tributary, connecting to the harbor.

Bai Li Feihong, having shed his dark official robes, held a compass and found a flat-bottomed boat, drifting downstream along the river.

“If there were any trace of the river imp, I wouldn’t have to go to such trouble.”

However, Bai Li Feihong was in no hurry.

Slaying the river imp was merely a task.

There was no need to rush completion.

On both sides of the river, villages dotted the route, and Bai Li Feihong would stop to observe each one.

He aimed to thoroughly investigate the villages and towns along both banks of Dongbin City’s riverside, searching for any signs of smuggled opium.

“Strange, at dusk there’s no smoke rising from the village!”

Bai Li Feihong brought his boat to shore, tying the bow’s rope around a sturdy tree so it wouldn’t be swept away by the current.

He chose a hidden spot by the riverbank to dock.

With a leap, he cleared the riverside thickets.

It was as if he walked upon the wind, stepping atop tree crowns.

His mastery of the Carefree Wanderer technique had elevated his movement to the pinnacle of Dongbin City’s demon-wardens.

It wasn’t that he was unmatched, but rather that the wardens in his bureau were lackluster.

Standing atop a tall tree outside the village, he overlooked this tranquil hamlet.

Bathed in the setting sun, it was as beautiful as a painting.

The only discordant detail was the white mourning banners hung from every household.

“How odd.”

Even if there was a funeral in the village, it wouldn’t be so silent.

Nor would every house display mourning banners.

He produced his Demon-warding Compass.

The needle spun, pointing directly into the village.

“It’s growing late—just right to find a place to rest.”

Bai Li Feihong grinned.

As a warden with a strong sense of justice, he was obligated to slay monsters and demons upon encountering them.

Moreover, his Black Soul Jade was empty.

For this outing, he had received ten Black Soul Jades from Yan Ruyu.

With another leap, he landed heavily, stamping the earth and deliberately leaving two pits.

He had done it on purpose.

The dust rising from the impact clung to his clothes, making him look like a weary traveler.

Walking along the village path, hand resting on the blade at his waist, he entered the village with heightened vigilance.

A stone tablet stood at the entrance.

Chu Clan Village.

He walked the village roads, finding not a single soul.

It was as if the entire village was frozen in time.

Bai Li Feihong’s caution increased.

He did not take out the Demon-fixing Compass.

Chu Clan Village was sizable, its households orderly, each a spacious mansion with courtyards.

Despite its remote mountain location, the villagers’ homes were nothing like those of poor, backward regions.

Wealth does not appear out of nowhere.

Especially not in such remote mountain villages.

There must be a source of income.

Entering the village, he found a grand residence.

Among all, this house was the most imposing, rivaling any manor he’d seen in Fairness Town.

Knock, knock, knock—

Bai Li Feihong rapped on the door.

No one answered.

“Is anyone home?” Bai Li Feihong’s voice was loud and penetrating, reaching every corner of the courtyard.

“Coming, coming.”

At last, someone replied from within.

An old man in mourning garb hurried to the door.

“Young man… may I ask your name and reason for knocking?”

“Elder, passing through, I am thirsty. Forgive my intrusion, but might I have a cup of water?”

Bai Li Feihong offered a respectful salute, answering politely.

Yet his parched lips led him to unconsciously lick them.

“Well…”

The old man looked troubled.

“I can pay for it.”

The elder’s eyes widened in indignation. “Young man, are you insulting me?”

With that, he pulled the brass ring and shut the door.

“What a person!”

“No sense at all.”

Bai Li Feihong was taken aback.

On reflection, he could only sigh.

To ask for water in a grand household and offer payment—if word spread, their reputation would be ruined.

More loss than gain.

It was indeed an insult.

Yet Bai Li Feihong did not give up. He returned to the entrance of a more rundown villager’s house.

He knocked once more.

Creak.

A bent, white-haired old woman opened the door, her eyes clouded.

“Who is it?”

Her eyesight was poor.

“Grandmother, greetings. I am a traveler, lost in the wilds, passing through, parched. May I trouble you for a cup of water?”

The old woman’s face lit with kind warmth. “So you’re a young guest. It’s been ages since outsiders visited. Wait here, I’ll fetch you some tea.”

Bai Li Feihong saluted once more. “Thank you, Grandmother.”

“No need for such courtesy, young man.”

She turned and slowly entered the house.

The sun was nearly set, light fading.

Inside, it was pitch dark; the windows shuttered, no candle lit.

The old woman felt for the teapot, took a large bowl, poured cold tea, and brought it out.

“Young man, please have some tea. It’s a bit cold, forgive me.”

Her manner was cultured, not at all like someone who had spent her life in a mountain village.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Bai Li Feihong took a sip, raising his brows, but quickly concealed any reaction.

“Grandmother, why are there white mourning banners on every house? Has something serious happened in the village?”

The old woman’s face turned anxious at his words.

“I have some skill in martial arts, and if needed, I can help—consider it repaying your kindness for the tea.”

“You’re too polite, young man. It's just a cup of water,” she said, chuckling.

“I’m only curious. Walking through, I saw every house closed and draped in mourning banners—surely something grave has occurred.”

“Drink up and be on your way, young man. Before night falls, leave Chu Clan Village.”

She did not answer his question, only cautioned him.

Gulp, gulp!

He swallowed the tea in a few mouthfuls.

“Thank you, Grandmother.”

He returned the bowl to her hands.

“Once you’re done, be on your way.”

“Thank you.”

Bai Li Feihong saluted before turning to leave.

His palm covered his mouth unobtrusively, and with his White Dragon Amidst the Waves technique, he manipulated the water, turning the tea into mist that evaporated into the gathering darkness.

After a hundred paces, his steps grew unsteady, and finally he collapsed headlong.

“Young people are fearless—he dared to drink the special soporific concoction I prepared.”

“One large bowl, and he managed a hundred paces before falling. That’s not bad for a blood-trained martial artist.”

Now, the old woman’s cataract-clouded eyes were gone.

Her pupils were deep, like an abyss, devouring the mind.

“You come here, a stranger, asking for water with cracked lips—how could you not arouse suspicion?”

“There are many springs in these mountains, and the river outside is clear. As a martial artist wandering the wilds, how could thirst defeat you?”

Her voice grew sinister, drifting through the village so every household heard it clearly.

“Great-grandmother, could he be from the Constabulary?”

“If he were, there’s nothing to fear. What worries me is that this young man might be an apprentice from the Demon-Warding Bureau.”