Chapter 4
Chapter 4
When Qin Ying’s voice rang out, Han Lie felt a jolt go through his entire body.
He had remained in this valley specifically to wait for that mysterious voice.
He stood up abruptly and looked up at the sky.
To his disappointment, however, the giant shadow did not reappear.
Han Lie hesitated for a moment, unsure whether he should respond.
On the eastern bank of the Red Water lay the Sanmiao Kingdom. The people of that land farmed normally during the day, but they did not sleep at night.
Instead, they followed one another like living corpses, forming a line along the riverbank and wandering aimlessly until dawn.
Han Lie had once ventured alone into the Southern Wilderness Swamp. While passing through the Sanmiao Kingdom, he had witnessed this strange and terrifying scene.
According to the Drum-Keeper Head of the Sanmiao Kingdom, this was because the Ancestor of Sanmiao had once responded to the voice of a Deity from beyond the heavens.
As a result, the Deity had invited them to travel. At night, the souls of the Sanmiao people would leave their bodies to journey through the Divine Realm and serve as the Deity’s servants.
The moment Han Lie heard the inexplicable voice, his mind immediately jumped to that experience.
Military Supervisor Dong Hong, who was standing nearby, was startled when Han Lie suddenly looked up. He thought a Deity had manifested again.
But when he looked at the sky, he saw nothing but a horizon filled with sunset clouds.
Dong Hong was already parched and irritable. He couldn’t help but ask, “Squad Leader Han, what are you looking at?”
His question made both Qin Ying and Han Lie realize something at the same time.
When Qin Ying’s shadow was not cast into the box, it seemed her voice could indeed only be heard by Han Lie.
Qin Ying’s mind raced as she contemplated the connection.
Han Lie, meanwhile, reached up and pressed the wooden bead on his chest.
The burning mark on his chest felt like he had been branded by the tip of an incense stick-a single vermillion dot seared exactly in the center of his chest.
The wooden bead began to grow hot again.
The infant in Han Lie’s arms, having gone without water for a long time, began to cry in a thin, hoarse voice.
The kitten-like wailing snapped Han Lie back to reality.
He glanced at the infant’s face, then turned his gaze toward Dong Hong.
Dong Hong found the look unsettling.
Han Lie shouted, “Men, tie up Supervisor Dong!”
Dong Hong’s mouth dropped open in shock. “What?”
“Have you gone mad?”
Dong Hong had connections in high places; he had actually pulled strings to secure the position of Military Supervisor for this mission.
Everyone in the Jade Balance Army knew that Han Lie was extremely capable, but he had once offended the Great General and had been sidelined ever since.
Once this task of hunting and transporting the Monstrous Beast was complete and they returned to Luoyang, Dong Hong intended to rightfully claim Han Lie’s achievements as his own.
At that time, Han Lie would still be a mere grunt, while Supervisor Dong would soar to success.
Because of this, Dong Hong had always been incredibly arrogant. Seeing the surrounding soldiers step forward, he looked around and cursed, “What do you think you’re doing? Is this a mutiny?”
The soldiers actually didn’t know what Han Lie intended.
However, between Han Lie and this supervisor who looked down his nose at everyone, they didn’t need to think twice about whose orders to follow.
Dong Hong was overbearing, and the soldiers couldn’t stand him. They were more than happy to mess with him.
They pulled off his belt and bound him like a suckling pig.
Without his belt, Dong Hong’s robes fell open, revealing most of his rib-thin torso.
He was both shamed and enraged, screaming, “I will tell my Superior Officer! I will tell the Great General!”
“I am the Military Supervisor! You have no right to bind me!”
Han Lie found the noise grating and signaled to the soldiers. “Gag Supervisor Dong thoroughly.”
Recalling the words of the mysterious voice, he paused.
He handed the swaddled infant to a soldier to hold and stepped forward to do it himself.
Under Dong Hong’s horrified gaze, Han Lie squeezed his jaws tight and stuffed a sweat cloth firmly into his mouth.
The cloth belonged to Dong Hong himself. After so much time spent traveling in the wild, it was rank with the sour smell of sweat.
Dong Hong’s eyes rolled back; he wanted to vomit but couldn’t.
He tried to express his fury through his glare, but to his surprise, Han Lie produced a piece of leather.
Han Lie poked two air holes in the leather where Dong Hong’s nostrils would be.
Then, he draped the leather over Dong Hong’s face and tied it tightly behind his head.
Once Dong Hong’s eyes and mouth were thoroughly covered, Han Lie ordered his soldiers to drag the muffled, whining man far away.
He didn’t forget a final instruction: “If it rains, not a single drop of water is to touch Supervisor Dong’s lips.”
The request from the Divine Voice had been strange, but Han Lie executed it with unwavering resolve.
Outside the box, Qin Ying couldn’t help but laugh as she watched the scene through her phone.
Supervisor Dong’s current treatment was even more miserable than Hannibal the Cannibal’s in the movies. It had reached a level of wretchedness that was almost surreal.
Qin Ying cleared her throat, quickly pulling her wandering thoughts back to the task at hand.
While she had been distracted, Han Lie had climbed the high altar alone.
The blood left behind by the Yellow-robed Taoist clung stickily to the soles of his boots. Under the scorching sun, Han Lie unbuckled his leather armor until he was clad only in his thin inner tunic.
He knelt, responding to Qin Ying’s words.
“The heavens are parched, the earth is cracked, and the people have no way to survive. I pray the Deity will bestow sweet rain upon us.”
“I am willing to offer my…”
He had intended to say he would offer himself as a sacrifice, but being an honest man, he weighed his own worth and decided he wasn’t quite valuable enough. His gaze shifted to the wooden cage-cart covered in black cloth at the base of the altar.
“I offer everything I own and the Strange Beast Danghu as a sacrifice. I beseech the Supreme Deity to grant us rain, to end the drought in the Six Provinces, and to save the lives of the tens of thousands hanging in the balance.”
The Danghu Bird was the objective of his squad’s current mission. Using it as a sacrifice was a grave offense no matter how one looked at it, and he would have to bear the consequences. Thus, when Han Lie made his vow, he did so with the resolve to die. He kowtowed again, pressing his forehead against the sun-baked, burning surface of the altar.
He was drenched in sweat; his inner tunic was soaked through, clinging to his broad shoulders and narrow waist, outlining his sturdy physique.
In this solemn moment, Han Lie heard a whistle in his ear.
It sounded… like something from a frivolous rogue.
“Fine, then. Since you’re being so sincere.”
The mysterious woman’s voice rang in his ear once more.
Amidst the gasps of the crowd below, the Divine Shadow appeared in the sky again, as if brushing aside the clouds and mist. Though the sky was clear and bright with no rain clouds in sight and no sound of thunder, the Divine Shadow simply raised a hand.
*Patter, patter.* Unusually large, heavy droplets of rain began to fall in a sudden, rustling downpour.
“It’s raining! It’s raining!”
Even though Han Lie had ordered the civilians to prepare to shelter and collect water, no one cared about that now. The people, including the soldiers under Han Lie’s command, instinctively stood in the rain, tilting their heads back and opening their mouths to let the water strike their faces and pour down their throats.
The heavy rain hammered against the parched earth with a rhythmic thrum, soaking into the soil inch by inch. An old man with swollen ankles scooped up a handful of wet mud, cradling it in his palms as if it were a precious treasure.
“It’s raining! It’s really raining!”
He buried his face in the wet mud, rain and tears streaming down together.
The Supreme Deity was generous. This rain was substantial, thoroughly drenching the parched land. The valley erupted in a deafening roar of joy and endless cheers.
As the rain fell, the Divine Voice drifted down from the sky. It was intermittent, melodious, and ethereal.
The people in the valley couldn’t understand it, but they filled in the blanks themselves, bowing repeatedly toward the Divine Shadow in the sky and shouting their thanks to the Supreme Deity for the rain.
Only Han Lie remained kneeling, stiff as a board.
He could hear it clearly. The Deity who had brought the rain was indeed humming a song.
It was just that… she was absolutely out of tune!
Han Lie’s pupils dilated in shock, momentarily seized by a sense of both terror and absurdity. Before he could recover his senses, the rain stopped.
Murky water, churning with yellow silt, began to surge through the riverbeds. The people, soaked to the bone like drowned rats, hadn’t even had time to wake from their joy when they saw something else.
A white circular pot the size of a house descended from the sky, suspended by ropes as thick as a man’s wrist. The giant white pot was piled high with golden-yellow dry rations. Each grain was the size of a human fist, emitting a dense, rich aroma.
“The Supreme Deity is providing food!”
No one knew who shouted first, but everyone in the valley raised their arms toward the giant pot-which was made of neither iron nor bronze-to welcome the gift.