"Daoist Master, this way. Watch out for the filth, don't step in it."
The haggard-faced Wu Shuifeng guided Li Huowang along, muttering incessantly as she went.
"Ay, my life is truly bitter. He was frail as a child, and I raised him through all the filth and sickness. After all that, I finally got him a wife. But before a grandson is even on the way, my daughter-in-law gets possessed. Ah… misery. I'm truly miserable."
"She probably picked something up after chopping wood on that desolate hill a few days back, must've gotten too close to that ruined temple. You can't go there—it's a shrine to Wutong, and people say it's terribly cursed."
Li Huowang, with two swords slung across his back, walked with a deep scowl. He half-listened to the old woman's grumbling while observing the surroundings.
This village looks rough. The fences are crumbling, the walls are crooked, and the filth is everywhere. These mountain folk truly aren't diligent.
