Chapter 10: The Voice

It was the slack season in the fields. Though Uncle Ninth’s family was well off, Aunt Ninth was not one to sit idle. At home, besides keeping some chickens and ducks, she also raised a pig. So even when there was little farm work, she was constantly busy—gathering pigweed, chopping it, cooking feed, feeding the chickens and ducks, doing laundry… Every day was packed from start to finish.

These past days, with Li Mu at home, she hadn’t gone out, instead staying to look after him. But now that Li Mu was clearly recovering well, she grew restless again. Upon hearing her words, Li Mu quickly gulped down the porridge on the table, wiped his mouth, and stood up.

“Auntie, I’m almost fully recovered. Let me go cut the pigweed today.”

She paused in surprise, then laughed. “Child, you’ve never raised pigs. How would you know what kind of grass to gather? And your body is still weak. Rest a while longer. When you’re completely well, then help me out.”

With that, she paid him no more mind and headed for the door. Li Mu wanted to speak again, but she was already at the gate. Just then, a commotion rose outside, and soon after, Aunt Sixth, Aunt Stone, and some others arrived.

Li Mu was startled, then walked to the doorway himself.

“What’s happened?” Aunt Ninth asked, puzzled.

Li Mu saw that, besides Aunt Sixth and Aunt Stone, several others had come, and a few of them were pulling along a large blue ox. The ox was limping, obviously hurt, but still fierce and restless, tossing its massive head and bellowing. If not for the ring in its nose, they might not have been able to control it.

Aunt Sixth and Aunt Stone began chattering at once. After a while, Li Mu finally understood what had happened, and instinctively looked at the blue ox.

This ox belonged to Aunt Ninth’s family.

In this era, an ox was the greatest source of labor. As the only martial man in the village, Uncle Ninth’s household was considered the best off. The ox, as a vital tool, was naturally part of their family. But the ox wasn’t looked after by them directly—Uncle Ninth was away all year, and Aunt Ninth managed everything alone; she barely had time for all the housework, let alone tending to the ox.

If Li Mu remembered correctly, it was Uncle Seventh who helped take care of the ox.

Li Mu’s own father was called Li Third by the villagers, but the way the village ranked seniority always confused him. For example, his Uncle Ninth was younger than his father, so he called him Uncle Ninth. Uncle Seventh, on the other hand, was a good ten years older than his father, so Li Mu addressed him as Uncle Seventh. Then there were others—Li Fourth, Li Fifth, Li Sixth—who he called Uncle Sixth, Uncle Fifth, Uncle Fourth, depending on the person. Sometimes, there were even old men who had to call him “uncle”… It was all very confusing.

At first, Li Mu tried to sort out these relationships, but gave up in the end, just following the original host’s memories… which weren’t much clearer about these complicated ties either.

Uncle Seventh was a cousin of Uncle Ninth, and it was Uncle Seventh’s fourth son who usually tended the ox. The reason they all came today was because—the ox was hurt.

Uncle Seventh’s fourth son, whose given name was Li Gou, was called “Brother Gou” by the villagers. He was a few years older than Li Mu, with dark, thin limbs, looking even smaller and skinnier than Li Mu himself. Now he looked uneasy, and as soon as he saw Aunt Ninth, he knelt before her and stammered, “Auntie, I’m sorry. I didn’t take care of the ox well.”

Aunt Ninth had already gathered what had happened from Aunt Sixth and the others and was now examining the ox. Seeing Li Gou kneel, she quickly helped him up.

“Child, if there’s a problem, let’s solve it. Get up first… What happened exactly? Where is the ox hurt?”

Li Gou was a bit frightened and stammered his explanation, but gradually, Aunt Ninth and the others came to understand. About ten days ago, Li Gou had noticed one of the ox’s legs seemed off—it was limping. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time. But this morning, when he went to drive the ox from its shed, he found it could barely stand. Forcing it out, he saw the right foreleg wouldn’t touch the ground at all. Any pressure made the ox bellow and act out violently.

Only then did he realize the injury was serious. Just as he was at a loss, he ran into Aunt Sixth and the others heading out to do laundry. Once they heard the situation, they decided at once to go see Aunt Ninth. After all, it was her family’s ox, and if anything serious happened, she had to know.

An ox, in these times, was a precious asset. If one died, it would cost more than ten taels of silver! To put that in perspective: in their village, a family of three barely spent two or three taels of silver a year. Ten taels was a fortune. And a live ox was worth even more. Besides spring and autumn plowing, the ox could earn money for the family—attach a cart and it became a wagon. Anyone in the village needing to transport goods or haul cargo to town would use it.

In fact, Li Mu knew that Li Gou’s family often used Aunt Ninth’s ox for such work—probably earning quite a bit from it.

“What should we do now? The injury looks serious. The only ox doctor is in the county,” someone said anxiously.

Aunt Ninth’s heart ached. The money wasn’t the issue—Uncle Ninth’s salary was high, and ten taels, while a huge sum for most, was only a month’s wages for him. But the villagers cherished their livestock. This ox had been with the family for years, helping with spring and autumn plowing and hauling loads to town. They’d grown attached to it. Aunt Ninth’s heart ached as she gently soothed the ox.

The blue ox kept snorting through its nose, its injured leg never touching the ground, the other three hooves shifting restlessly.

Li Mu gazed at the ox, and his thoughts drifted to Uncle Ox… The image of Uncle Ox, bloodied after a fierce battle with the tiger demon, rose again in his mind. This ox was already so agitated and in pain from a single injured hoof—how agonizing must it have been for Uncle Ox back then?

At the thought, Li Mu stepped forward and reached out to touch the blue ox’s head. Strangely, the restless beast suddenly froze at his touch. At the same time, a voice echoed in Li Mu’s mind—

“Leg… hurts…”

The words were muddled but deep and resonant. Li Mu wondered if he’d misheard.

“What?” he blurted, stunned.

The blue ox lifted its right foreleg toward him, and the voice in his mind sounded again.

“Leg… hurts…”

Li Mu finally realized what was happening and drew a sharp breath.

Could it be that this blue ox… had become a demon too?!

Before he could recover, Aunt Ninth grabbed him and scolded, “Child, come away! The ox is hurt and in pain. If it goes mad and hurts you, what then?” She looked at the blue ox with worry.

[Next chapter will be released at midnight.]