Chapter Twenty-Two: Short-Sighted Like a Mouse (Second Update)

"Stop!"
Unable to hide any longer, I shouted, my voice ringing out.
The gray-robed Taoist froze, his hand pausing mid-action as he turned to look at me. A cruel smile flickered across his face. "Young man, it's you. I've been looking for you."
Maodou was clearly terrified. He crouched on the ground, too frightened even to cry, trembling all over. I rushed forward at once, scooping Maodou up and shielding him in my arms.
Seeing this, the gray-robed Taoist's grin grew even more menacing, his laughter shrill and piercing, making my scalp prickle with dread.
I didn't spare the Taoist another glance, clutching Maodou and bolting away.
"You think you can really escape, boy?" the Taoist called after me.
Sure enough, I'd only run four or five meters before two more gray-robed Taoists emerged from the brush ahead. They looked almost identical—sharp-faced, buck-toothed, their faces covered in sagging, ashen folds, sparse hair clinging to their scalps, so hideous they were almost grotesque.
As I charged in their direction, the two Taoists instantly raised their claws. Their gray-black nails gleamed like black blades, sharp and menacing, glinting coldly in the darkness.
Clearly, this path was a trap they'd set for me, with Maodou merely as bait.
Holding Maodou with one arm, I reached into my pocket with the other.
I still had one talisman left from the ten Lady Wang had given me.
"Maodou, hold on tight to me," I said. Maodou clung fiercely to my neck, freeing up both my hands. I strode toward the two Taoists, talismans at the ready.
Grandfather had once told me that, for any living creature, the back of the head and the spot between the brows were the vital points. So, if I wanted to finish these Taoists, I'd have to strike between their eyebrows with a single blow.
I drew a deep breath, steadying my nerves.
Clutching two talismans, I charged at the Taoists. But as I approached, their voluminous gray robes suddenly shrank tight around them with a hiss, and the talismans merely stuck to the cloth, burning two holes but failing to harm the Taoists themselves.
Holding Maodou in my arms was a hindrance. Resolutely, I swung him onto my back.
So long as he clung tightly to me, he wouldn't fall, and I'd have greater freedom of movement.
The Taoist who'd just shed his robe flashed to the other side, both of them cackling wickedly as they lunged for me again.
I snatched out two more talismans, ready to strike—only to be seized by the throat from behind.
All at once, I was choked, unable to draw breath.
That eerie laughter rang close to my ear. It must have been the black-robed Taoist who'd blocked my way earlier, now attacking from behind. I tried to slap a talisman backward, but the two gray-robed Taoists ahead had already wound their robes around my arm, binding me fast.
Their strength was overwhelming—I had no chance of breaking free.
"Give him a bowl of soup first, and he'll be docile enough," one Taoist said.
The other reached into his wide sleeve and produced a bowl—steaming hot, filled with merit soup.

He approached, seizing my jaw in his grip.
I couldn't control my mouth; it fell open, and he tipped the bowl toward my lips.
But just as the soup was about to be forced down my throat, a hawker's cry suddenly echoed from the distance.
"Trade scissors, trade knife handles, the best kitchen knives, sharp scissors, needles, thread, soap, matches, candy, pipe stems—trade anything for anything, just say what you want..."
A chill wind swept in with the voice, scattering white, round, square-holed spirit coins from the sky. My vision blurred, and the road around me shifted, transforming into a dirt path lined with dead grass. In the distance, mist billowed, and a lone figure appeared, balancing a pole across his shoulders, weaving his way toward us.
I was stunned. The peddler had returned at this moment?
The priest in blue had said it would be ten days or half a month before the peddler reappeared, yet only five days had passed. Why was he here now, at such a critical juncture?
If he headed straight for my home, Grandfather's life would be in grave danger.
My mind spun in panic, so much so that I momentarily forgot the peril I myself was in.
Yet I wasn't the only one caught off guard; the Taoists attempting to force-feed me the soup froze as well. After a brief hesitation, sensing something wrong, they dragged me with them and tried to flee.
But the peddler was faster.
Even with the heavy pole on his shoulder, he appeared before us in the blink of an eye. He set down his load, blocked our path, tipped his bamboo hat to reveal a dark, blue-tinged face stretched in a sinister smile, and said, "You choose not to walk the road of the living, but now tread upon my path between worlds. Since you have set foot here, do you think you can ever leave?"
The gray-robed Taoist sneered, "You walk your path between worlds, I walk my path among the living. There is no need for us to interfere with one another. You have no business in this matter."
But this retort seemed to enrage the peddler. "Do you even know whom you hold in your hands, and you dare speak of 'no interference'?"
His anger summoned a torrent of ghostly wind, spirit money whirling through the air, dead grass rustling and moaning.
"It's just a country bumpkin," the Taoist said.
"Shortsighted fool! That peasant boy is no ordinary child. Because of him, I lost merit, spent days in prison, and ruined my reputation. If I hadn't begged below for a chance to atone for my crimes, I'd still be locked up!" As the peddler spoke, he glared at me, veins bulging with rage. Clearly, he'd been tricked by the priest in blue.
Who knew what the priest had given him to make him return to the underworld and face punishment. No wonder the priest said the peddler wouldn't appear for ten days or half a month—he'd been thrown in jail.
But perhaps even the priest hadn't expected the peddler to earn a chance at redemption and be released early.
I could only curse my luck. The Taoists wanted to capture me, and now the peddler wanted my life as well. What hope did I have? There wasn't enough of me to go around.
Despair washed over me.
At the peddler's words, the Taoists laughed. "To think we were strangers, yet our interests align."
"And what do you mean by that?" the peddler asked coldly.
"If this country boy is your enemy, that makes us friends! You want revenge on him, and we can help. We're capturing him now to boil him into soup. Once his flesh is tender and his bones are soft, your grudge will be avenged, won't it?" one Taoist said.

I thought to myself that I was finished, wondering when Lady Wang might come. Now, my only hope was that she would arrive to save me.
But suddenly, the peddler threw back his head and laughed, the sound chilling to the bone.
"Master, if I avenge you this way, will it ease your anger?" the Taoist asked, fawning as he pushed his face forward.
But the peddler's laughter abruptly ceased.
His eyes flashed with a cold gleam, and in a split second, he struck the Taoist across the face.
The blow was so powerful that the Taoist's face distorted, and a piercing squeal rang out as he was sent flying four or five meters, crashing to the ground and twitching violently. The huge gray robe collapsed in on itself.
A rat, as large as a kitten, staggered out from the heap of cloth, crawled a few steps, and then moved no more.
"A worthless vermin who dares claim to be my equal!" the peddler scoffed.
I was utterly stunned.
I'd guessed the peddler might be a soul-collector, but I'd never imagined he was this formidable—one slap and the Taoist was dead.
The remaining Taoists shrank back in terror; their robes deflated, and two more rats tried to scurry away.
But the peddler only grinned wickedly. He pulled a gleaming cleaver from his bundle and, with two swift blows, chopped the rats cleanly in half.
"Where have all the village cats gone, to let rats run so wild?" he remarked.
I was completely cowed by the peddler and barely registered his words. Con