Chapter 65: Hard is the Road Part 1

Wang Ya ate her meal without distraction, downing three bowls of rice. The fullness in her stomach warmed her considerably, and her mood eased a bit. Only then did she lift her head to look out into the courtyard. While she had been eating, a van had pulled into the yard. Old Tang and Old Wu had both gone out to greet it, and it seemed like they knew the driver well. At that moment, they were unloading packages from the van.

The driver who delivered the “goods” was a man in his thirties, dark-skinned and skinny but very sturdy. At first glance, he looked like an ordinary laborer, but Wang Ya could tell at once that he was different from regular people. He carried the aura of someone who had long dealt with corpses buried deep underground. Wang Ya didn’t need to guess to know that he was probably in the Touch Gold Captain line of work too.

Once the man had delivered the goods, he left. Old Wu had Old Tang check everything to make sure nothing was missing. Old Tang carried the items into the house, opened the packages, and inspected them one by one. He said everything was fully prepared and thanked Old Wu profusely. Then he called Wang Ya, Huang Qi, Zhang Qingshui, and Wang Cheng’an into the house to distribute the supplies.

Wang Ya entered the house and saw piles of supplies: small camping tents, military-grade steel-toed long boots, folding shovels, Strong Flashlights, Glow Sticks, hiking backpacks, climbing ropes, and a whole bunch of other outdoor gear and essentials. There was food too, including beef jerky, Energy Bars, Pocari Sweat Powder, and many other things Wang Ya could name or not.

Old Tang explained and demonstrated the use of all these outdoor supplies in detail to Wang Ya and Wang Cheng’an. He especially warned Wang Cheng’an that the Energy Bars were not snacks and had to be saved for when he was starving near death. Finally, they distributed the gear and supplies, staying busy until nearly eleven o’clock.

Everyone’s hiking backpacks were stuffed full, weighing several dozen jin each. Wang Ya picked up her own backpack—it was at least forty or fifty jin. She changed into mountaineering assault jacket, assault pants, and military boots. She packed the tattered Ancient Book left by her grandma and the Yin Spirit Scroll into waterproof bags and tied them securely to her abdomen. She put some commonly used supplies into the satchel slung over her shoulder, then loaded the hiking backpack into the off-road vehicle’s trunk, got into the back seat, and sat down.

Wang Ya still sat in the middle of the back seat, with Wang Cheng’an and Huang Qi on either side of her. Zhang Qingshui sat in the passenger seat, and Old Tang drove.

Before setting off, Old Tang instructed Wang Ya: if anyone asked, they were just going camping.

Old Tang chose a very remote route, almost all country roads and village paths. Wang Ya didn’t know how to drive or navigate, so she didn’t question why Old Tang stuck to these back roads. She figured it was to avoid the Laoshan Taoists, Ghost Family, and others who wanted to catch her.

Along the way, Wang Ya kept her eyes closed, circulating her Demonic Power through her meridians. Before receiving the Yellow Springs Other Shore Flower Demon’s Demonic Power, the qi in her body had been just a tiny cluster, only able to flow through a few main meridians. Now, her Demonic Power surged like an ocean, flooding all her major and minor meridians, clearing many that had been blocked before.

Though her Demonic Aura had brought her plenty of trouble, this Demonic Power was now her greatest safeguard and reliance. If forced to choose between losing it or turning into a demon, she would rather become a demon and keep this power than be helpless meat on the chopping block.

The car bumped along, but Wang Ya didn’t even lift an eyelid. Only when it stopped and she heard Old Tang say “We’re here” did she open her eyes. They had arrived at a very remote small town, even more unremarkable than Wangjia Zhen. At least Wangjia Zhen had the Wangjia Town Grand Hotel; this place only had a single rundown guesthouse.

The group checked into the guesthouse.

Old Tang told the boss lady they were going mountaineering and camping, and they needed to head into the mountains early the next morning. He wanted to leave the car parked there for a while and paid five hundred yuan to have her watch it. The boss lady happily agreed after taking the money and, at Old Tang’s request, found a large, cheap sheet of colorful plastic woven cloth to cover the car completely.

The next morning at five o’clock, the group gathered at the guesthouse entrance. They ate some simple noodles sold there and then shouldered their gear and supplies before setting off.

As Wang Ya stepped out of the guesthouse, she immediately saw the large mountains behind the town, range after range stretching endlessly into the distance. She silently followed Old Tang with her forty-to-fifty-jin backpack. She had trained since childhood, so her strength was greater than average; dozens of jin had never been an issue before. Now, with her full body of Demonic Power, this weight was even less of a concern.

They followed rural dirt roads deeper into the mountains. At first, there were fields at the mountain base, scattered villages and houses, and orchards. After walking half a day, they were fully in the mountains, with almost no sign of people.

Old Tang told Wang Ya this was the Nanling Mountains. The Nanling Mountains started from the Yunling in Yunnan, extended east into Guizhou as the Miaoling, then passed through the borders of Guangxi, Guangdong, Hunan, Jiangxi, Fujian, and other provinces before reaching the sea. Countless ridges lay in between, including the Lingnan Five Ridges along the Nanling line.

Wang Ya listened silently as Old Tang explained the Nanling Mountains, Lingnan Five Ridges, and the specific ridge they were on. Old Tang was very detailed, but Wang Ya was geography-blind. When he rattled off a bunch of geographical knowledge, citing historical examples like the Qin army’s routes, Tang Dynasty Zhang Jiuling opening the ancient Meiguan Pass road, and northern Vietnam only being separated after the Song Dynasty, she felt lost in a fog, unable to tell directions.

In her mind, she silently grumbled about Old Tang: Just talk geography, why drag in history? Good thing he didn’t become a geography teacher; otherwise, his students would all fail like the ones at their school. Their school’s students failed geography because it wasn’t counted in the zhongkao or gaokao, all taken by main subjects like Chinese, math, English, and history.