Dongting Immortal Clan

The wooden wheels of the cart creaked on the dirt road.

Old Zhang pushed the cart slowly, with a layer of straw spread on it, on which lay the three members of the Chen family.

Chen Xiaohu stood beside the cart, holding onto the edge, afraid they would fall off.

Upon hearing the noise, the villagers all looked on in surprise.

Someone stood by the door, leaning halfway out to look, their eyes wide open.

Some people put down their work, came out of the courtyard, and stood by the roadside watching.

Others rushed over to ask why, and everyone chimed in with their own opinions.

"What happened to the Chen family, father and son?"

"The boat capsized! The boat capsized on the lake!"

"Good heavens, something terrible has happened on the lake again!"

"Judging from Chuansheng's complexion, he's probably not going to make it."

A group of people gathered under the old camphor tree at the village entrance, chattering about the matter.

As the cart passed by, a shrill voice suddenly came from the crowd.

"The Dragon Palace is short-handed; they need to be sent down to serve the Dragon King!"

Someone recognized the person who was speaking.

It's Wang Laizi.

He crouched under the camphor tree, his neck hunched, his hands covering his head, his body trembling.

"Wang the Leper!"

"You saw it?"

"Has a Dragon King really come to the lake?"

A villager walked up to Wang Laizi and asked.

Wang Laizi shuddered, as if a sore spot had been hit, and hurriedly shouted:

"Look, it really is the Dragon King!"

"He swallowed Zhao Dehou whole in one gulp; his mouth is that big!"

Wang Laizi spoke while gesturing.

"Like a bottomless pit, Zhao Dehou was sucked in without even a cry!"

Wang Laizi continued speaking, his voice high-pitched and thin, sounding like both crying and laughing.

"The Dragon King wants to build a palace at the bottom of the lake, but he's short-handed. We need to find more people to go down there. Whoever walks around the lake the most often will have to go!"

Upon hearing this, the onlookers' expressions changed drastically.

There are so many villages around Baiyukou, and every family relies on Dongting Lake for their livelihood. If they go to the lake, they will be taken away. How will they live in the future?

The fishermen in the village who often went to the lake exchanged glances and felt a chill run down their spines.

Suddenly, Wang Laizi got up and rushed towards the cart, pointing at the unconscious Chen Chuansheng and his son, and roared:

"We have to send them all back to the lake. These are the people the Dragon King wants. If we anger the Dragon King, the entire White Fish Mouth will be submerged!"

"What nonsense are you spouting, Wang Laizi!"

"Exactly, the Chen family father and son have already suffered enough, and you're still making sarcastic remarks!"

"But... what if he's not lying? There was a boat accident at Qingshanzui too, a few people died, but nothing else happened after that..."

"But you can't send the Chen father and son back into the lake! That would be murder!"

"Who said we were really going to send it back? I mean, what if the Dragon King really gets angry..."

……

Standing beside the cart, Chen Xiaohu listened to the villagers' words, feeling both cold and afraid.

He wasn't afraid of the Dragon King, but he was afraid of these usually peaceful villagers.

Many people looked at them as if they were offerings to the "Dragon King".

Old Zhang stopped the cart and turned to face the crowd.

He limped on one leg, but his back was ramrod straight. His face was expressionless, and his gaze swept over the crowd. Whoever he saw would unconsciously lower their head.

"Everyone, you can leave now."

Old Zhang spoke, his voice deep and resonant, yet carrying an undeniable authority.

"If anyone really thinks the Dragon King is going to be angry, let him come to me. My house is at the east end of the village, and the door is never locked. I'm always ready to help."

The crowd paused for a moment, then someone spoke in a low voice.

That's not what we meant...

"Not the best."

Old Zhang said in a calm tone:

"The Chen family's downfall is their own business. If you're afraid and try to worship that thing in the lake as if it were the Dragon King... then you'd better be prepared to suffer the consequences!"

How could a monster of unknown origin be worthy of the title of Lake Lord Dragon King?

After saying that, he continued to push the cart forward with Chen Xiaohu. The crowd automatically made way for them, and no one dared to say another word.

Wang Laizi squatted back down under the camphor tree, muttering to himself, his voice growing softer and softer, his eyes filled with resentment.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

It was almost dark when I got home.

"Go and boil the medicine quickly."

Old Zhang carried the person from the cart into the house and instructed Chen Xiaohu to start a fire and boil medicine.

In an instant, the smell of herbs filled the entire courtyard, and the smoke made it impossible for him to open his eyes.

After checking on the three people, the old man sighed and said:

"I've done my best. Whether they survive or not is up to them."

"Thank you, Uncle Zhang."

Chen Xiaohu moved a stool over and sat down at the doorway of the east room, which was his father's room. He quietly kept watch there.

After a busy afternoon, Old Zhang was a little tired. He said goodbye and carried his medicine box back to his home. He needed to prepare some more things in case of emergency.

Half an hour later, Old Zhang arrived at the Chen family again under the moonlight and casually tossed an oil paper package to Chen Xiaohu.

Chen Xiaohu took it, opened it, and exclaimed in surprise:

"Meat patties?!"

"Eat up, if it's not enough, I have more."

Old Zhang unloaded his bundle, which contained not only food but also several handfuls of herbs that looked very fresh, as if they had just been picked.

After thanking him, Chen Xiaohu began to eat seriously.

He had been living in fear all day; if it weren't for the magical power within him, he probably would have fainted long ago.

Old Zhang sat by the door, leaning against the door frame, with a pipe in his mouth, the smoke from the pipe flickering.

He didn't speak, but was thinking about something.

……

"Chen Dajiang has never practiced martial arts, so how can he project his qi and blood outwards?"

"Ordinary martial artists wouldn't know such techniques... at least a grandmaster would."

"A grandmaster in his twenties is unlikely."

"If one doesn't learn martial arts, then one can only cultivate metaphysics."

"Could it be that the Chen family had ancestors who were cultivators?"

Thinking of this, Old Zhang turned to look at Chen Xiaohu.

The child was tired after a long day and was now resting by the bedroom door.

This turn of his head startled Old Zhang.

Suddenly, a faint light emanated from Chen Xiaohu's body, and visible to the naked eye, streams of silvery-white energy flowed into his body through his fontanelle.

Seeing this, Old Zhang immediately got up, closed the windows, shut the door, and kept muttering to himself:

"But I misjudged it. This little lake is the most powerful. It has reached the point where it is shining brightly and shedding its mortal form."

"It seems the Chen family's lineage has truly been broken; otherwise, why would they leave him to cultivate alone at this crucial moment?" Old Zhang exclaimed inwardly.

"How old is he? Only twelve or thirteen years old, and he's already about to reach the second level of the Spiritual Treasury Realm?!"

"Chen Chuansheng, you are truly a blessed man, having three sons, each more accomplished than the last."

"The eldest is born with superhuman strength and abundant vital energy; the second is meticulous and daring; and this youngest has his spiritual apertures fully opened—he's a natural-born immortal..."

Old Zhang muttered to himself, a mixture of envy and melancholy in his voice.

He knew that as long as the Chen family survived this calamity, they would no longer be ordinary people.

If only it had been thirty years earlier...

Old Zhang sighed. He was old and nearing the end of his life, and even with a predestined connection to the immortals, he would find it difficult to achieve anything.

Fate is always so capricious, never allowing people to have their wishes fulfilled.