Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Rainy Season

The rainy season in the southern wild forests—a dull, tiresome stretch that left all predators bored and weary. Endless torrents poured from the sky, seasonal rivers rampaged through the jungle, vast tracts of mountain woods were soaked in warm waters, and the trunks of ancient trees were adorned with dense clusters of vibrant mushrooms. This, perhaps, was the only highlight of the season.

Ji Hao curled up at the threshold of his wooden cabin, clutching a large wooden jar in his arms. The tea he brewed himself shimmered with a verdant sheen, its fragrance drifting softly through the humid air. Every so often, he would lower his head and gulp down a mouthful, the clarity of the tea briefly dispelling the dampness that clung to his body.

“Damn this weather!” came the complaint of Qing Ying from afar. He held aloft an enormous leaf, lazily trudging through the curtain of rain like a living corpse, passing by Ji Hao before vanishing once more into the downpour.

Qing Ying, usually meticulous about his appearance, had clearly neglected himself for several days. The tips of his beast-hide boots, left and right, blossomed with thumb-sized red and blue poisonous mushrooms—yet he seemed entirely oblivious to his unwelcome guests.

The damp air rendered the bowstrings of the Qingyi Tribe’s warriors slack and feeble; rising vapors obscured their vision. With their greatest hunting pleasures vanished, the warriors lounged about like hibernating bears, listless and lethargic.

Only in the mining tunnels did the work persist, undeterred by the deluge that battered Cold Creek Valley. The clanging of pickaxes echoed from deep underground, mingled with the labored breaths of miners as they hauled baskets of heavy ore to the surface. Large chunks of refined metal and exquisite jade were carefully selected and stacked aside.

Occasionally, a piece of fire jade marrow was found. The supervising warriors of the Fire Crow Tribe would rush over, collecting the precious stones and delivering them without delay to Ji Zhuo, the elder stationed in Cold Creek Valley.

On the clearing beside Ji Hao’s cabin, five robust warriors battled each other barehanded, colored mists rising faintly behind them, where the spectral shadows of ferocious beasts flickered. These were the strongest among Ji Hao’s private slaves, each on the verge of breaking through to become a mighty shaman warrior.

Two hailed from the Blue Ox Tribe, two from the Saber Tiger Tribe, and the last from the Wind Hawk Tribe. Their original names had been discarded by Ji Hao, who, in his laziness, dubbed them Big Ox, Little Ox, Big Tiger, Little Tiger, and Wind Hawk for ease of memory.

Amidst the rain, clad only in beast-hide loincloths, the five warriors struck each other with all their might, the thuds of their blows echoing the thunder above. The powerful aura unleashed with every stomp and punch sent waves of water shooting up, turning the fragile raindrops into arrows that scattered wildly.

Beneath their skin, veins bulged like venomous serpents. Standing over three meters tall, a stomp or swing from any of them unleashed terrifying energy, transforming the thick layer of water beneath their feet into towering waves.

At the heart of Big Ox and Little Ox, the center of Big Tiger and Little Tiger’s chests, and Wind Hawk’s abdomen, shamanic nodes glowed with blinding light. Through fierce combat, they rapidly activated their blood and stimulated these nodes, striving to awaken their lineage’s power and become shaman warriors as quickly as possible.

Ji Hao shamelessly promised them: whoever broke through first would be allowed to choose three of the most beautiful female slaves from the Fire Crow Tribe to become his women. The last to break through, however, would be given, by Ji Hao himself, the tallest and ugliest woman among the slaves. Moreover, the first to become a shaman warrior would lead Ji Hao’s private slaves, and their families would receive better treatment.

“Such worries!” Setting down the wooden jar, Ji Hao picked up a few herbs from the sieve beside him, carefully tearing off a small piece and tasting it. During the endless rains, even the strongest shaman warriors had no desire to venture out, leaving Ji Hao to stay indoors and learn the Qingyi Tribe’s secret shamanic arts from Qing Fu.

In half a month, Ji Hao had memorized most of the characteristics of the tribe’s herbs, personally sampled each one, and gained a deep understanding of their properties. During this time, he was poisoned over a hundred times; if not for Qing Fu’s timely antidotes, he would have succumbed to the toxins more than once. The experience reminded him bitterly of his childhood, when under the supervision of Ji Kui and the old shaman priests, he endured grueling lessons in shamanic secrets.

“So troublesome.” Enduring the indescribable bitterness in his mouth, Ji Hao looked at the five warriors and shook his head in distress. He had not realized that by accepting one hundred and five private slaves, their families had also become his servants. He was now responsible for the sustenance of several hundred people—a daunting task for someone with no output or resources.

“Those old geezers must have done this on purpose. They should have at least given me some livestock pens or fields to manage!” Ji Hao grumbled, “With so many mouths to feed, I can’t just keep them idle. They need to work—raising animals, planting crops, gathering wild fruits, anything. But with nothing, and in the rainy season, even hunting is impossible. Isn’t this just making things difficult for me?”

Just as he was complaining, several streaks of fire shot up from the southern sky. Three giant crows led the way, tearing through the rain with a rolling mass of fire clouds behind them, rapidly arriving above Cold Creek Valley.

A dragon’s roar echoed as a fire drake, its four legs treading upon intense flames, slowly descended from the sky. On its back, no more than seven or eight meters long, sat a middle-aged man dressed in luxurious attire woven with crimson gold threads, surrounded by swirling fire clouds. With a proud demeanor, he surveyed the chaotic valley below, evidently unimpressed by the rainy season’s effects.

Atop a giant crow, Elder Ji Yan of the Fire Crow Tribe stood, shouting, “Someone, fetch Elder Ji Zhuo! And where is Ji Xia? Ji Xia! Hurry and come greet the guest. Damn it, haven’t you noticed this distinguished lord?”

The fire drake hovered a few feet above the ground, refusing to land. The man on its back waved his hand indifferently, saying, “No need for greetings, don’t waste my time. There’s nothing worthwhile in this miserable place, so don’t embarrass yourselves. Quickly, ten thousand pieces of fire jade marrow—get to it.”

Ji Yan, as though aflame, leapt off the giant crow and loudly summoned Ji Zhuo, Ji Xia, and the others.

Before long, Ji Hao understood the purpose of the middle-aged man riding the fire drake. The rainy season was too damp, so a noble had sent his retainer to the Fire Crow Tribe to collect ten thousand pieces of fire jade marrow to embed in his palace and dispel the humidity.

Additionally, the noble’s palace lacked enough servants to command, so the tribe was ordered to select three thousand young boys and girls to serve in the palace. Ji Hao was tasked with escorting and overseeing these young servants.

***

As anticipated, the grand curtain begins to rise!

Here, there ought to be a number of recommendation votes, accompanied by cheers!