Chapter Seventy-Six: Reason

White ashes drifted in the wind, shrouding most of the Fire Leopard tribe’s encampment in a floating haze. Within the pale dust lay the cremated remains of offerings burned by the Golden Crow’s fire, mingled with soil and rock residue refined by extreme heat. Each grain of ash held a lingering trace of fiery energy; as people moved through the haze, the friction between the white dust released bursts of crimson sparks that crackled and scattered.

The Fire Leopard tribesfolk were tending to their settlement, gathering the bodies of their fallen kin and enemies. Large groups moved through the swirling ash, the entire camp seeming wrapped in flames, with the scarlet glow painting vast stretches of forest blood-red.

From afar, guttural murmurs echoed—yo-yo, wo-wo—heralding the arrival of the old tree demon and his two formidable companions. Driving a swarm of flower spirits and tree monsters that had gathered on their own, they swayed through the charred remnants of the woods. Each of the three elders, having shrunk their bodies as much as possible, carried a massive wine jar, scattering seeds of various plants onto the steaming earth while guzzling strong liquor. They were all quite drunk, staggering unevenly with their huge frames, frightening the smaller flower spirits and tree monsters into shrill cries.

Beneath the cliffs, in the collapsed council hall of the Fire Leopard tribe, Ji Xia sat cross-legged beside the fire pit, tearing voraciously into the fragrant roasted beast meat.

The giant beast roasting over the fire pit, sizzling with fat, had once been the mount of a powerful shaman from the Fierce Ghost tribe—a one-horned ape bear whose strength nearly matched that of the great shamans. Badly wounded in battle, the tribe’s shamans refused to waste precious medicinal herbs on it, so they cleaned it and served it as a feast for their honored guests.

“Hao, since you’ve won the favor of the ancestral spirits, you did nothing wrong this time.” Ji Xia, having devoured most of the ape bear’s head, patted his belly contentedly, a fierce, cold light flashing in his eyes. “Though your father has never relied on the Fire Crow tribe’s power to bully these pitiful little tribes, since they dared provoke us, let them die as they may.”

Ji Hao grabbed a wine jar, gulped down several mouthfuls of the pungent liquor, and wiped the dribbling wine from the corner of his mouth. “Heh, when I saw you rushing over so urgently, Father, I thought you were coming to stop me from performing the sacrifice.” Ji Hao shot Ji Xia a sideways glance, thrust the jar forcefully into the ground, and said in a gruff voice, “Mother says sometimes, Father, you’re too soft-hearted!”

Ji Xia tried to maintain his paternal authority, scowling as he replied, “Too soft-hearted? Your father considers the tribe’s greater interests. I—”

Ji Hao quickly interrupted, “Yes, Father, you are wise and heroic, a true man—vengeance for grudges, justice for wrongs… Jiang Yao orchestrated the siege of the Fire Leopard tribe, and Jiang Xue was her accomplice. What do you think we should do about them?”

Ji Xia’s expression tightened; he slowly put down the wine jar and fell into deep thought.

Jiang Yao was the daughter of Jiang Bo, the great shaman of the Bifang tribe; Jiang Xue was the daughter of Jiang Zhu, an elder of Bifang. Jiang Yao had been seriously wounded by Ji Hao and fled; unless she wished to spark outright conflict between the Fire Crow and Bifang tribes, she would never dare openly reveal the matter of the tribal alliance’s attack on the Fire Leopard.

But Ji Hao, ruthless as he was, had killed Jiang Xue on the spot—this complicated matters.

From high above came the cawing of a crow, followed by a whirlwind that swept down to the earth. A raspy, chilling voice pierced Ji Hao and Ji Xia’s ears like steel needles, harsh and icy, carrying an unsettling, sinister power that made their skin crawl. Both men frowned and sprang to their feet; the wine jars and jars beside them cracked with countless fissures, and murky wine seeped out in streams.

A slender elder, as tall as Ji Xia but thin as a bamboo pole, entered with stiff steps, his tone icy and biting. “Ji Xia, you must give the elders an explanation. Do you remember your duty? You are only tasked to oversee Cold Creek Valley and protect its mines… Who gave you the nerve to…”

The elder’s words were cut short as Ji Hao, full of vigor, rudely and bluntly interrupted, “Ah, Elder Ji Fang, my father came here—what’s the problem? He just presided over a Nine Suns Ascending blood sacrifice; the ancestral spirits are delighted. Are you saying my father was wrong? Then, are you saying the ancestral spirits are wrong?”

The elder was stunned, words caught in his throat, unable to speak for a long moment.

Above, the giant crow’s call sounded again, followed by a faint sound of air being pierced. The ground trembled; someone leaped down from the sky, shaking the council hall so violently it nearly collapsed completely.

Ji Zhu strode in, laughing raucously as he clapped Ji Fang’s shoulder. “Ji Fang, you’ve always been too impatient, never steady in what you do. Look—making a fool of yourself in front of the youngsters again!”

Ji Hao saw clearly that Ji Zhu’s fingers dug deeply and roughly into Ji Fang’s shoulder, and he even heard the crunch of Ji Fang’s scapula under the immense pressure.

Ji Fang’s face twisted, his pallor turning a sickly blue, almost transparent.

Ji Zhu’s voice was cold. “You’re too hasty, Ji Fang… I take it you haven’t received news from the sacred ancestral temple? The ancestral spirits have conveyed their will to all the shamans; they are very pleased with today’s blood sacrifice, and they say Ji Hao is a fine child!”

“What did you say?” Ji Fang howled, his face contorted.

“The ancestral spirits said we did nothing wrong!” Ji Hao leaned close to Ji Fang, his voice cold and forceful. “My father summoned the tribesmen of Cold Creek Valley, defeated a bunch of arrogant fools from the lesser tribes, offered them as sacrifices to the ancestral spirits… The spirits are pleased, so everything my father did was right.”

Ji Fang shut his mouth tight, refusing to utter another word.

In the southern wilderness, things were simple and brutal: if you won the ancestral spirits’ favor, everything you did was right. Yet ordinarily, common tribesfolk could not even approach the sacred ancestral temple; only during the decadal or centennial grand ceremonies, or through ancient secret rituals like Ji Hao’s, could one hope to awaken the spirits and win their favor.

Ji Fang cursed certain people to his core—they had egged him on to confront Ji Xia and Ji Hao, but failed to mention that even the ancestral spirits had been won over!

Ji Zhu gazed deeply at Ji Hao, then smiled broadly. “Though the ancestral spirits have expressed their will to all shamans, Xia—you should still return to Golden Crow Ridge and recount everything in detail.”

“Also, Great Shaman Ji Kui has declared, on behalf of the ancestral spirits, that those tribes who attacked the Fire Leopard are now enemies of the Fire Crow tribe.”

“Hao, it’s your task—wipe them out completely!”

***

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