At five in the afternoon, Mason Wade came tearing down the mountain with a huge sack of wild sanqi slung over his shoulder. The bag pressed hard into his back, but his heart felt light. Once this batch of herbs was sold, there would be one more sum for Lily Tavish’s mother’s medicine.
The thought of Lily alone was enough to make his chest go soft. Those peach-blossom eyes, that face fresh as a lotus bloom—just thinking of her was like falling headfirst into a jar of honey. Even his steps turned loose and floaty.
He bit down on that restless heat in his chest and kept walking. Green willows swayed, peach trees glowed in the slanting light. He crossed the grove, and before he knew it, he had come near the Mountain God Temple.
Beside the old temple lay a natural hot spring pool.
And the moment he looked over, his eyes went hot.
In the spring, a young woman was soaking, only her upper body above the water, her back to him. He couldn’t see her face, couldn’t tell whose girl she was. But at once his eyes widened like bronze bells.
Who was this?
What kind of girl dared come here alone to soak in a hot spring?
Mason’s nose went warm. Blood almost spilled.
He ducked low in a flash and hid behind a wall corner, then stretched his neck out to peek again. The next second, he let out a low sound.
“Huh?”
Why was Dillon Trevathan here too?
What the hell was that brute doing here?
Speaking of Dillon Trevathan, the man was built like a bull, and his guts were just as big. Worse, he did every rotten thing under the sun. A real scoundrel. A plague in human skin.
“Little beauty, I’m coming in too. Hah!”
Dillon stripped down until only a pair of big underpants remained. With a slick splash, he slid straight into the spring.
The girl gave a sweet, tinkling laugh. She suddenly flung a handful of water at him. The two of them started splashing and fooling around in the pool like there was no one else in the world.
Mason, crouched in the shadows, felt his blood rush harder. Curiosity climbed straight to the top of his skull. He had to know who that woman was.
But for some reason, the second he pictured Dillon’s vicious face, that thick body, those fists that could knock him flying with one blow, his courage faltered.
Besides, he had been gathering money for Lily’s family to treat her mother. There was no need to stir up extra trouble.
Then a woman’s voice drifted over from the spring.
“Uncle Youdan, what if Mason Wade finds out?”
Dillon gave a snort.
“That pauper? Let him cool himself off wherever he likes. You’re mine. Mine!”
The woman spoke again, half coy, half anxious.
“You’re not allowed to go back on your word. We agreed on one hundred and twenty thousand. Transfer it to me later!”
Mason felt as if a thunderbolt had cracked open his skull.
His mind exploded.
That woman bought by money was not some stranger.
It was Lily Tavish.
For a breath, his whole body froze. Then the blood in him turned wild and scorching. His chest caved in, then burst open with pain. He let out a scream so sharp and miserable it sounded like a man being dragged to execution.
The instant Mason roared, Dillon scrambled up onto the bank. He rushed toward the old temple to grab his clothes.
Mason had gone mad.
Like a crazed bull, he charged forward with his head lowered and his shoulders hunched, aiming straight for Dillon’s bulging belly.
Dillon jumped in fright. He had just done a filthy thing, so guilt already sat in his gut. Seeing Mason come smashing in with the desperate look of a man ready to die together, he twisted fast and dodged aside.
Mason missed.
His whole body lunged into empty air.
Dillon let out a sly, ugly chuckle and backed toward the main hall of the temple. But once inside, he saw there was no rear exit, only a row of Heavenly Master statues standing grim in the dim hall.
He spat a thick wad of phlegm onto the ground with force, wheeled around, and rushed back toward the door, cursing.
“Damn it. You want to die?”
Mason’s eyes were blood-red as he charged after him. But he came in too hard, too fast, and overshot.
Seeing Mason’s back turned and his backside exposed, Dillon lifted one leg and drove a brutal kick straight at his rear.
Bang!
That kick from Mason Wade had real weight behind it, near two hundred pounds of force. It sent him flying straight out, hard and savage, and he smashed face-first into the Celestial Master statue like he was giving it a brutal kiss.
Dust and stone burst up everywhere.
Mason hit the ground, rolled once, and before he could even suck in a breath, chunks of the shattered statue came crashing down on top of him. Blood splashed out on the floor at once.
Dillon Trevathan threw his head back and laughed. He laughed so hard it echoed through the little temple. Then, trailing smoke, he turned and slipped outside.
Lily Tavish said, “Mason, my mom’s illness can’t be treated without a hundred thousand. Not even close. I had no choice. I had to go with Dillon Trevathan. You saw it yourself. Uncle Dillon will give me a hundred and twenty thousand. I’m his woman now. Let’s part cleanly. Break up.”
Mason lay there, blood in his mouth, ears buzzing. Her words stabbed deeper than the broken stone. His chest felt hollowed out, as if a hand had reached in and ripped something living right out of him.
Dillon Trevathan sneered. “You stupid girl, why waste breath talking to him? This poor bastard doesn’t even have a coin in his belly. A useless dog like him, what can he do?”
He was arrogant to the bone. He actually swaggered back into the mountain temple, grabbed Lily Tavish by the arm, and led her off down the mountain in broad daylight, bold as brass.
They left Mason behind in the wrecked temple, alone, calling to heaven with no answer, crying to earth with no reply.
Then the strange thing happened.
The Celestial Master statue, smeared with blood, seemed to come alive.
With a slick, eerie sound, it started swallowing the blood Mason had spilled. In the blink of an eye, a phantom light rose from the broken idol, thick with countless symbols. The shadowy glow shifted and trembled, and inside it flashed several strange patterns, like seven or eight seals hanging in the air.
A moment later, those glowing marks and phantom traces shot straight at Mason.
Whoosh.
All of them drilled into his body in one rush.
“Ah!”
Mason’s skull felt like it was splitting apart. His belly swelled up like a woman eight months gone with child. He howled again and again, the sound sharp and terrible, like a man being executed on the spot. He rolled all over the floor, then blacked out cold.
He had no idea how much time passed.
When Mason opened his eyes again, he froze for a beat. Then fear hit him, and he shot upright with a jerk. He found himself still inside the Mountain God Temple.
He hurriedly checked his body.
The wounds were gone.
Gone.
Not a cut, not a tear, not even a trace of the blood he had lost. It was as if he had never been hurt at all.
Mason sucked in a breath.
Then he noticed several seals scattered in front of him, seven of them, maybe eight, each giving off a dim blue glow. He picked them up and looked them over. The carving was fine, the workmanship neat, and every piece was whole and unbroken. Only that weird blue light made his scalp prickle.
Still, a message had already surfaced in his mind, clear as day. These seven seals were Celestial Master divine artifacts. Each one held its own power.
There was no time to study what those powers were.
Mason stuffed the seals into his pocket and rushed out of the Mountain God Temple.
The second he thought of Dillon Trevathan stealing his girl, rage surged up so violently he almost felt his whole body about to burst apart. He did not dare dwell on it. The more he thought, the more the fire inside him roared.
He opened his eyes wide and cursed at the sky, “Dillon Trevathan, the grudge between us is bigger than heaven!”
Early the next morning, Mason scrambled out of bed in a hurry. The wild notoginseng he had dug up had to be dried fast. He spread the drying mat in the yard and laid the herbs out one by one.
Just then, pounding sounds crashed against the gate.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
A moment later, the courtyard door was slammed open, and a plump young wife stumbled inside and fell in. It was Maggie Holden, the wife of the village group leader, Julian Hastings.
In Bailu Village, Maggie Holden was one of the few women who still had dealings with a poor man like him.
But now she was covered in mud from head to toe, like someone fleeing disaster. Her clothes were torn, her hair was a mess, and she looked shaken to the core.
Mason was startled. He stepped forward and said, “Auntie Maggie, what happened to you? How’d your clothes get torn like that?”
