Chapter Thirty-Six: The Road Unknown

Although I had never seen the gray cat alive, I could easily imagine its speed from Xian Hongye’s description—it must have rivaled that of the “Lantern King” we’d encountered before.

But, alas, the foe it met was nothing like me, a mere cook by trade. No matter how swift it was, it could never best a true King of Soldiers.

Wang Hou was a man who had distinguished himself among a hundred thousand troops. If that cat was a “cat spirit,” then Wang Hou was a “human blade.” If the cat spirit was a gust of wind, then Wang Hou was a wall. When wind clashes headlong with a wall, only disaster awaits.

By the time the gray cat charged Wang Hou for the third time, it was already as good as dead.

Sure enough, as the gray cat came barreling toward him with a snarl, Wang Hou didn’t even blink. He suddenly kicked up the windbreaker at his feet and, using a deft twist, transformed the entire jacket into a curtain-like “net”!

The cat, mid-leap, was too fast to dodge. It crashed headlong into Wang Hou’s coat.

The greatest advantage of Wang Hou’s height was the sheer size of his clothes. His regular jacket would fit me as a windbreaker, and on Hongye, it’d be a small overcoat, at the very least.

This “net” was no simple thing to escape from.

Trapped in the windbreaker, the cat was startled. It thrashed and clawed frantically, only entangling itself further. Wang Hou seized the chance, pinning the jacket firmly to the ground, and finally sat down hard atop the writhing animal, giving it no chance to escape.

Under normal circumstances, with Wang Hou’s six-foot frame and nearly 170 pounds, sitting on a cat like that would surely be fatal, or at least leave it half dead. What neither Xian Hongye nor Wang Hou expected, though, was the tenacity of the glowing gray cat. Even under Wang Hou’s weight, it refused to give in—it shredded his windbreaker with its claws and raked bloody welts across his backside, turning his sweatpants into split-crotch pants in an instant.

Enduring the pain, Wang Hou glanced at the smug, snickering “cat-man,” then at the anxious Xian Hongye behind him. He knew dragging this out was pointless.

It was time for decisive action.

Helplessly, Wang Hou suddenly steeled himself. He ignored the old cat’s frantic biting and clawing, grabbed the bundled-up windbreaker with the cat inside, and yanked the beast free.

Suddenly thrust back into the light, the gray cat blinked in confusion. But when it saw Wang Hou’s grim, sinewy face, it instantly understood his intent.

The cat lashed out, claws swiping at Wang Hou’s arm in a desperate bid to escape.

But Wang Hou gave it no chance.

Without a word, he seized the cat’s head in his powerful hand.

With a sharp crack, flesh and bone parted, and the gray cat went limp. The fireflies on its body gradually dimmed.

Wang Hou tossed the cat beside his tattered windbreaker, spat on the ground, and turned to stare at the terrified, dumbstruck “cat-man.”

Under the cold, blue moon, with blood streaking his muscular arms, Wang Hou’s presence and strength completely overpowered the hunched, slender demon—and he had just severed one of its strongest allies.

Faced with this, the “cat-man” seated among his feline horde trembled like a leaf—and finally, tail between his legs, fled.

Once he started running, Wang Hou and Hongye suddenly realized that this creature relied on his cats not only to fight, but even to flee! The cat-man folded his legs, plopped down atop the swarm, and with a cry of “Chiu, chiu, chiu,” was carried away like a black cloud, the cats surging beneath him as he sped madly toward the forest surrounding Old Qi Road.

For a moment, the scene was utter chaos—a swirl of eerie, riotous energy.

Watching the cat spirit escape, both Hongye and Wang Hou were left speechless. They’d heard of riding clouds and mist, and driving BMWs and Benzes, but this was their first time seeing someone flee atop a horde of cats.

Indeed, each to their own path—cats have theirs, and dogs theirs.

With that, the affair should have ended. But just then, Wang Hou suddenly slapped his thigh and cried out in alarm, as if remembering something vital. Without hesitation, he rushed after the fleeing cat horde.

Hongye, seeing Wang Hou’s reckless pursuit, called out in haste, “Don’t chase a desperate enemy!”

But Wang Hou didn’t seem to hear and kept running, urgently repeating two words over his shoulder: “The luggage, the luggage…”

His meaning was clear—he was going to retrieve their belongings.

In that instant, his words snapped Xian Hongye out of her fear.

“The luggage! It’s still in the cat-man’s hands…”

She realized they had to get it back. So long as the luggage remained with that creature, letting it go wasn’t an option.

Losing money or cigarettes meant nothing. But if they lost the herbs in their luggage that suppressed the White Food Gu, it could be fatal.

So Hongye didn’t try to stop Wang Hou. Instead, she forced herself to her feet and hurried after him.

In truth, she was worried for Wang Hou’s safety. Though he was highly capable, this was enemy territory, and pursuing alone was risky.

She thought, though her abilities were limited, an extra pair of hands might help, however little.

However, as Hongye plunged into the thicket after Wang Hou, she soon realized her mistake.

Wang Hou was too fast—so fast he vanished in moments. His silhouette flickered and disappeared amid the trees, leaving Hongye with no hope of keeping up.

After only a few minutes, Xian Hongye was utterly, hopelessly lost.

In the tangled woods, she couldn’t find the way in or out. It was as if she’d wandered into a labyrinth, circling endlessly among the branches, trapped in a silent, deathly forest.

But Hongye was still Hongye. Though her situation was dire, she calmed herself quickly, suppressing her fear.

After a moment’s thought, she tried to use her phone.

She guessed that after she and Wang Hou went missing, I and Zhao Hong would be out searching—and with a dog, we’d be unlikely to get lost ourselves. If she could reach us, we could find her and Wang Hou quickly.

Eagerly, she reached for her phone.

But as her hand slid into her pocket, her heart sank.

Her phone was gone—perhaps lost when the cat horde dragged her away, or dropped while running.

Either way, it was gone.

Now, Hongye’s predicament became even more precarious.

When she’d been pulled from the car by the cats, her mind had gone blank, as if tossed from a plane without warning. Suddenly she was in the woods, unable to tell which way was which. Finding her way out now would be next to impossible.

With no other choice, and no clear goal, Hongye could only keep walking, hoping to find some trace of Wang Hou—or that Zhao Hong and I would catch up.

She had no idea how long she wandered, but eventually a chill wind swept through the forest, and Hongye was forced to stop.

Because, on that cold wind… she suddenly heard a woman’s laughter.

The laugh was clear—coming from right behind her.

Under the grim moonlight, the abrupt sound made Hongye’s hair stand on end; she shuddered, her brows knitting in alarm.

Instinctively, she spun around, arms raised to shield her chest, eyes fixed on the source of the sound.

Her pupils contracted sharply.

At first, she saw, among the shrubs, a floating white shadow.

It leapt and twirled, light as a dancer’s step, or like a flickering, enchanted flame in the woods.

In the haze, Hongye couldn’t make out exactly what it was, but she knew it was coming toward her with astonishing speed, laughing as it came—as if mocking her.

Soon, the white shadow paused atop a pale, flat stone.

It raised its head, staring at Hongye with curiosity, cocking its head to the side.

It was… a white fox.

In the dappled moonlight, only yards separated Hongye and the white fox. The breeze stirred its fur, making it appear otherworldly, as if it were a spirit—its coat sleek and alive, a vision of uncanny beauty.

It tilted its head, eyes half-closed, regarding Hongye with an inscrutable expression—part smile, part pity.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, Hongye wasn’t afraid. The fox’s sudden appearance, though as bizarre as the earlier cat horde, carried no sinister air. On the contrary, it was beautiful—beautiful, yet tinged with a hint of enchantment.

Human and beast stared at each other for a moment.

Then, the white fox moved. It yawned lazily, then turned and walked away.

As it turned, Hongye suddenly noticed—the beast had three tails.

In the moonlight, the fox’s three tails swayed and danced, like delicate white handkerchiefs caught in the breeze, or like a lotus blossom unfurling.

That white lotus, in Hongye’s eyes, seemed almost hypnotic. Her mind went blank, her gaze turned vacant.

It was as if the fox spirit had stolen her soul. Enchanted, Hongye found herself following the beguiling figure, step by step, into the night.

She never took her eyes off the leaping, laughing white shadow, her mind a perfect blank…

And so, led away by the three-tailed fox, she had no idea how far or how long she walked.

When Hongye finally snapped out of her stupor, she was standing before a wooden cabin at the foot of the mountain.

The mesmerizing, fox-like spirit was gone, replaced by the sturdy wooden door before her.

Hongye frowned at the door.

It was old and simple, but clean and polished; most importantly, through the cracks, she saw light and felt warmth. The orange glow was unmistakably from a lamp, and the warmth drifting out…

Faced with these signs, Hongye quickly concluded—the cabin was inhabited, not an abandoned hut or ghost house. Most likely, it was a ranger’s outpost.

And where there were people, there was hope—hope of contacting the outside world, of finding us, even of rescue.

Excited, Hongye pounded on the wooden door, calling for help, yearning for someone to emerge and explain everything.

Why had the cats turned into highway robbers? Why had a three-tailed fox brought her here? Why were there three tables of “ghostly banquets” on Old Qi Road?

As she waited, the door finally creaked open.

A slender, androgynous man stepped out.

In the flickering light, he lowered his head, looked at Hongye, and spoke in a magnetic voice: “Who are you?”

But Hongye did not reply at once.

In the dim, shifting light, she saw with a start—the man… had the face of a fox!