Only then did I realize it's the Double Ninth Festival; I've been so busy with the new book that I'm dazed.
Wishing everyone a happy Double Ninth Festival, and also wishing my daughter Guoguo a happy birthday.
In the afternoon,
I only requested three days off, not counting the day of departure, so I must return before tomorrow morning, otherwise I might be punished.
Time is plentiful; Yang Kai estimates he's about a hundred li from Lingxiao Pavilion, not too far, and can arrive before dark.
Looking forward to the incense burner from the third page of the Wordless Black Book, wondering what boost it would give him, Yang Kai felt pleased and his steps were light.
Having gone less than halfway, Yang Kai suddenly heard a series of roars and heart-rending shouts from not far away, occasionally mixed with a child's cries.
Hearing the commotion, Yang Kai stopped in his tracks, prick up his ears to listen closely. Moments later, his face changed, and he hurried toward the source of the sound.
He recognized it: the roar was that of the hunter he had met the previous night, and the crying was the little boy's.
The father and son must have run into trouble; otherwise they wouldn't be so panicked. That night Yang Kai had eaten their dry rations, and they had shown him kindness—how could he ignore them now?
As he ran, the hunter's howls grew more mournful, while the boy's cries grew fainter until they were barely audible.
Yang Kai's face grew grim, and he had a vague sense of foreboding.
When Yang Kai arrived, even the hunter's howls had faded; before him, down a high slope, lay a pitch-black cave mouth, surrounded by thick grass, everything draped in silvery spiderwebs, and on the ground lay a small bow—the very weapon the boy had held that night.
Without a second thought, Yang Kai tossed his belongings to the ground, widened his eyes, stayed alert to his surroundings, and darted straight into the dark cave.
The cave's light was dim, but he could still make things out.
The cave was damp and gloomy, with water dripping from the ceiling; each step he took felt slightly soft underfoot.
Holding his breath and moving quietly, after a few steps Yang Kai saw a person almost cocooned in spider silk lying to one side, only the face exposed—the hunter he had met the previous night.
Yang Kai rushed over, tested him, and found the hunter had merely suffered a surge of qi to the heart and fainted, with no serious injury; he quickly pressed a point on the man's philtrum.
The hunter groaned awake, and upon seeing Yang Kai, he urgently pleaded: 'Save the child! He's been dragged inside—please, save him!'
'Dragged inside?' Yang Kai exclaimed, fumbling to untie the hunter, but the spider silk binding him was too tough to loosen quickly; he gave up for now and plunged into the cave.
From behind, the hunter warned: 'Be careful—that's a spider demon beast!'
Hearing the words 'demon beast,' Yang Kai's heart skipped; demon beasts are not ordinary wildlife that can be easily slaughtered—they are true monsters, and none of them is something Yang Kai could provoke at his current level.