"Sister, we're leaving!"
Li Xuanling burst headlong into the side courtyard, hurdling the threshold as he came. Seizing Li Jingtian by the hand, he made to pull her toward the front courtyard, and she started in alarm, asking in a flurry of words:
"What is the matter?"
"There's no time to explain! Ganixo's troops will reach Lijing Mountain within a quarter hour. Do as I say!"
Li Jingtian felt a shock run through her. In haste she coiled up her jet-black hair, fumbled from the bed a long, slender short dagger, and hid it in her sleeve as she walked, asking in a low voice:
"Has Mother been told?"
Li Xuanling strapped the long blade onto his back and nodded:
"I sent clan soldiers ahead to fetch them. I ordered the few men left on watch to escort them down the mountain at once, and only then came back to the side courtyard for you, Elder Sister."
The two hurried out of the side courtyard. Li Jingtian had never practiced the art of immortality, and walked little better than a snail, so Li Xuanling slapped a Spirit-Walking Art onto his own legs, caught up his elder sister in his arms, and bore her in hot haste toward the foot of the mountain.
Li Jingtian tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ears, watching the scenery race away on all sides, her mind full of worry for her father, Li Xiangping. She looked up at Li Xuanling, and the envy in her eyes could not be hidden.
"If only I too had a spiritual aperture..."
Li Xuanling had not gone far when he took out the magic mirror to see what Ganixo was about. He saw that one war-host of the Mountain Yue had already entered Lijing Town and nearly sealed every exit, while another, wiler band, was scaling the mountain by the far slope, cutting off any hope that those above might flee down to Jingyang Village on the mountain's far side.
Had it not been for the magic mirror, Li Xuanling would have marched straight into that war-host. He wiped the sweat from his brow, grinding his teeth in a low curse:
"This Ganixo is a crafty fox!"
Hating the man all the more, he turned about and quickened his steps, only barely making it down the mountain before the pincer closed. In the foot-hills, within Lijing Town, he found an old, abandoned courtyard and climbed over its wall into the yard.
A thin layer of dust lay over the yard. It seemed the owners had been gone these many days. Li Xuanling kicked open the door and entered the house with Li Jingtian.
Looking about, Li Jingtian drew a pair of plain garments from a chest and changed into them with Li Xuanling. Li Jingtian was twelve or thirteen, just the age of the family's daughter, and the clothes fit her to a tee.
Li Xuanling, though, had not yet grown into his frame. Li Jingtian had to take up a knife and trim the cloth, pinning it together until he could wear it after a fashion, and the brilliant robes the two had discarded they shredded into scraps and stuffed beneath the bed. By then, there came the sound of footsteps outside the door.
They listened for a while. The dense, scattered tramping hurried away into the distance. Only then did Li Xuanling raise his head, scrutinizing the spirited, handsome face of his sister, and speak in a young boy's voice:
"Sister, your bearing is far too striking."
Li Jingtian understood at once and nodded. She fetched water from the small well in the courtyard, smeared her carefully painted face into ruin, knit her brows, and lowered her eyes, so that she gained a shade of pitiable, small-family frailty.
Li Xuanling pursed his lips. Li Jingtian's good bones were simply too fine; she could not by any effort make herself ugly. Even now, though she had lost that spirited air, she had gained a fresh charm that fair moved one to pity. Li Xuanling clicked his tongue.
With all this fuss, at last the pair looked to be ordinary folk of the town. Li Jingtian rose on tiptoe to peek out, and murmured:
"The mist maze is child's play to Ganixo. Good thing we all came down off the mountain. If we can only hide here a day and a night, Ganixo is bound to withdraw."
Li Xuanling nodded and quietly touched the magic mirror hidden against his breast. Its gentle, comfortable warmth set his heart at ease.
---
On Lijing Mountain.
Ganixo narrowed his eyes as he finished listening to his subordinate's report, and a smile spread across his face as he asked in return:
"They crossed the mountain with their troops?"
"Yes."
Ganixo raised an eyebrow, glanced at the cold stone platform, looked about at the incense and candles burning around him, and with one kick sent the offering table before him toppling over.
"Crackle..."
The toppled offering table spilled melons and fruit rolling across the floor. Ganixo narrowed his dun-yellow pupils, reached out to stroke lightly the smooth yet utterly bare surface of the platform, and hooked the corner of his mouth in a sneer.
"Mu Jiaofan, what sort of magic artifact calls for being enshrined and worshipped?"
The long-braided Mountain Yue behind him shook his head uneasily, watching warily at the surroundings, and after mulling over the question for a breath or two, spoke hesitantly:
"Your subject has heard that on Xunlin Plain there is a great tribe that worships a wooden effigy, wreathed in all manner of strange and wondrous happenings."
"This Li family has treasures indeed..."
Ganixo gave two low laughs and strolled slowly out of the courtyard, behind him the Mu Jiaofan rejoicing:
"That artifact must now be in the midst of their war-host. What luck that our men did not strike hastily, or we would have fallen for the demon sect's machinations!"
Ganixo circled once through the main and side courtyards, looked over the garments his men had turned out, and felt of the bedding, still warm from the body. He nodded thoughtfully.
"This boy is sharp-eyed."
He took a step forward, looked down over Lijing Town at the mountain's foot, slowly spread his arms as if to embrace it, pondered a while, and called out in a loud voice:
"Take every living soul from seven to fifteen in this tribe, and not one is to be passed over."
The Mu Jiaofan behind him answered heavily and withdrew. As the two left the Li family's great compound, Ganixo suddenly stopped short in his steps and said with a smile:
"Especially those living souls in fine raiment and fair feature. Have the men keep a close watch on them; the moment a cultivator makes a move, seize them at once and bring them before me."
With that said, he swung up onto his horse and rode off toward the foot of Lijing Mountain. The Wood-Jiao Fan hurried after him and asked in a low voice:
"Great King, there is little time left."
"Mm."
Ganixo nodded and spoke softly:
"Take the people, take the goods, and withdraw. Let it not grieve the demon sect's pride, or we may draw some reinforcements over our heads and gain only more slain."
The two came down the mountain, and already the town rang with weeping, mingled with the clash of village levies against the Mountain Yue. Ganixo's army kept strict discipline, and had already herded all the village's children and youths together, so that a great clamor of cries rose up all around.
The Wood-Jiao Fan looked on a while and murmured:
"Bring them back and they'll serve as slaves and serving maids. Not a bad haul, in truth."
At these words, Ganixo's brows drooped, a savage look twisting his face, a blade of cruel murder glinting in his eyes. But he stood with his back to the crowd, and none perceived aught.
For the smooth, clean neck of Ganixo had once borne the horizontal marks branded on a slave. In later days he had slain every clan that bought him, and forced the tribe's shamans to wash those marks from his flesh; and from that day forth, whatever he achieved, he never again painted any pattern upon his body.
The Wood-Jiao Fan went on regardless:
"These living women are fair of feature. Rather interesting."
Ganixo nodded without committing himself, lifting the long blade in his hand, and heard the Mu Jiaofan add:
"The Great King has now united the northern foothills. Yet you should give thought to an heir betimes. Many are the wolves, leopards and tigers in the mountains with hungry ambition, and a son born would set your heart at ease."
"Mm."
Ganixo hummed a single syllable, pressed his thighs to his mount, and rode his horse westward, nodding as he went:
"Westward, then — to go and play with that one."