Chapter Four: "Old Zhao, Time to Buy Pig’s Trotters"

On a night shrouded in darkness and wild winds, Yu Ge abruptly opened his eyes as he lay in bed, then calmly rose, his clothing neat and undisturbed. Outside, a crimson mist veiled the sky, tainting even the bright moon with an eerie, otherworldly red. Night in this world was a dangerous presence, yet within the town's boundaries, such fears seemed distant.

At least, Yu Ge had never heard of anything strange occurring in the town at night. But to venture outside after dusk—well, that was another matter entirely.

Yu Ge, however, had no intention of leaving the town. He walked along a stretch of gravel path, arriving at the backyard wall of Butcher Zhao’s home. Circling around, he scaled the wall with ease, then crept to a window behind which a faint candlelight flickered. From inside, muffled, indescribable sounds drifted out, hints of intimate activity.

His timing, it seemed, was impeccable. Though this was not his first time committing such an act, a persistent sense of guilt haunted him.

“At worst, I’ll buy a few extra pounds of pork from you in the future, help your business along,” he muttered to himself. Pinching his throat to disguise his voice, he rapped lightly on the window.

In the silent darkness, a dull thud echoed quietly through the courtyard.

“Old Zhao, I’d like some pig’s feet,” he called in a disguised voice.

“No pig’s feet left, come back tomorrow—” Butcher Zhao’s voice responded instantly, only to break off abruptly.

A hush fell over the shadowed night, the earlier sounds within silenced as if a rest had been written into the score. Then, a furious roar shattered the calm, reverberating through the darkness: “Damn it, you again? Pig’s feet? I’ll sell you nothing, you little bastard!”

The heavy wooden door crashed open with a tooth-grinding screech. Shirtless, Butcher Zhao burst forth, a boning knife gleaming in his hand, his eyes wide and round as brass bells.

Just half a month ago, as he’d been enjoying marital pleasures with his wife, some damned fool had knocked at midnight demanding pig’s feet, nearly ruining the moment. Now, hearing that same voice again, he was instantly seized by the terror of that previous night, his fury boiling over, desperate to catch the culprit who dared disturb him again.

His gaze sharp as lightning, he spotted the shadow in the courtyard and charged. But Yu Ge had prepared for this; as soon as he finished speaking, he had already dashed away from the window, scrambling up the wall.

As Butcher Zhao neared, Yu Ge nimbly swung himself onto the top of the wall. Seeing the culprit about to escape, Butcher Zhao could not contain himself. His bulky frame quivered with rage as he leaped, attempting to scale the wall—but before he could reach the top, the shadowy figure had already disappeared over the other side.

By the time he reached the wall, struggling to haul himself up, the figure was already a distant blur, vanishing around the corner of the street. With his hefty build, there was no way he could give chase.

Panting, Butcher Zhao remained stranded by the wall, the heavy folds of his face twitching with frustration as he stared into the empty night.

“What happened, Old Zhao…” came a neighbor’s voice from the adjacent yard, awakened by the commotion.

“Ah, nothing, just startled by a cat,” Butcher Zhao replied, standing bare-chested in the darkness, knife in hand, his voice full of indignation.

It ought to be fine now, he thought, glancing at his wife, who had hastily dressed and now watched him anxiously from the doorway.

Achievement unlocked: [A Ruthless Soul]
Requirement: Recklessly tempt fate three times. Progress: 2/3.
Reward: Unknown.

Returning to his own courtyard, Yu Ge’s heart still pounded. Fortunately, Butcher Zhao’s physique was not suited to running. Otherwise, he would never have dared such recklessness; everyone in town knew how deftly Butcher Zhao wielded his boning knives.

But now, with this risk taken, he had made some progress. Clearly, this achievement was not so difficult to complete after all.

…

A death had occurred in the northern part of town: Tailor Wang was dead. His body had been found in the shallow creek by the eastern riverbank.

Yu Ge heard the news the next day, as he was about to leave town in search of game—his food stores running low—when he discovered the scene at the gate.

The body had already been pulled from the water. After so long submerged, it was swollen and pale, the corpse ghastly in appearance.

Standing by the riverbank, Yu Ge’s mind involuntarily returned to the strange sight he had witnessed the previous day—Tailor Wang’s bizarre, incessant scratching.

After an inspection by the town guards, it was declared an accidental drowning, and the townsfolk could only shake their heads in sorrow.

But Yu Ge felt a lingering unease. Something was off, but he could not pinpoint what. Only when his gaze drifted past the town to the endless mountains beyond did he finally understand what was troubling him.

To the people of the town, this was all perfectly normal. They had grown up here, placing their trust in the arcane glyphs inscribed at the base of the town’s surrounding walls—a tradition passed down by their ancestors. To them, no demon or monster could ever breach these boundaries. It was a shared belief.

So when they saw such a scene, they simply sighed at the fickleness of fate, never suspecting the handiwork of spirits or monsters from outside—suspicion never even crossed their minds.

But Yu Ge was different. Living in an unfamiliar world, he remained ever vigilant, alert to the slightest disturbance.

Most importantly, he was willing to question.

What if something truly had slipped into the town?

At that thought, Yu Ge’s curiosity evaporated, replaced by a sudden urgency.

He halted abruptly on his way to the town gate, then turned back.

Zhao Ziming was known as one of the most skilled hunters in Yunji Town, often teaching the local youths the art of tracking and hunting at the southern edge of town, earning a few coins for his trouble. This arrangement benefited both Zhao Ziming and the townsfolk.

Even the hunting skills Yu Ge now relied on for survival had been learned from Zhao Ziming. In a world such as this, without useful abilities, making a living would be near impossible.

It wasn’t as if he could simply spout poetry to the moon and expect people to throw coins at his feet. That might have worked in a time of peace and prosperity, but here, in a world beset by danger where people cared only for their next meal, even the existence of kingdoms was in doubt—let alone appreciation for the arts.

If Zhao Ziming wasn’t at home during the day, he was likely by the southern hillside.

Yu Ge found him there, just as Zhao Ziming was correcting a disciple’s technique during a brief rest.

“You’re saying you think Tailor Wang’s death was odd, and you suspect it might be connected to the monsters and spirits beyond the walls?” Zhao Ziming raised his thick brows, amused as he gazed at Yu Ge’s earnest face.

“You rascal, how many years have you lived in this town? I’ve been here even longer. You know as well as I do that the town’s walls are inscribed with ancient protective runes. No demon could possibly get in.”

Yu Ge could only sigh inwardly.

He had hoped Zhao Ziming, at least, might differ from the other villagers, but found instead the same unshakable faith in the wall’s protection, not even bothering to check for himself.

Sensing Yu Ge’s disappointment, Zhao Ziming softened his tone. “It’s good that you’re concerned with the town’s safety, but these things aren’t for you to worry about. No matter how capable you are, you can’t match the experience of Captain Li from Shanglin City.”

Shanglin City was the nearest metropolis to Yunji Town, lying somewhere west of Great Wu Mountain. Though Yu Ge didn’t know its exact location, compared to their tiny, perilous town, Shanglin was a colossal, secure bastion.

It was said that within dozens of miles around Shanglin, the land had been swept clean of monsters; even farmers could work their fields without fear. Not a single resident didn’t wish to move to such a city.

Of course, resettlement wasn’t easy; there were requirements. But even living in the suburbs of a city like that brought peace of mind. In a world haunted by spirits and monsters, such places were sanctuaries.

A town guard from such a city would naturally possess far greater experience.

Yet the curiosity of a half-grown youth is never easily dampened, and Zhao Ziming’s intention in mentioning this was to discourage Yu Ge’s investigations, fearing he might act alone if refused.

But for Yu Ge, it made no difference. If his own safety was at stake, he would not let it go. Finding no help from Zhao Ziming, Yu Ge’s resolve to investigate only grew—especially as Tailor Wang’s home stood just a few steps from his own.

If this truly was the work of spirits or monsters, how could he sleep at night?