Zhu Guyu knelt before the mound of her parents’ graves, her ten fingers clawing into the sand until the blood seeping from her fingertips stained it red.
“Father, Mother, why did this happen…”
“It’s so hard just to stay alive…”
Her voice had long since grown hoarse. Her whole body curled into a ball, each rib jutting against her thin hemp clothing.
Zhu Jingzhe knelt beside his sister. Then, suddenly, he extended one hand, palm up, and slowly curled his fingers inward.
Their grandfather had once been a famous illusionist in town.
He had begun learning illusions from his grandfather at the age of three. By five, he could conjure butterflies; by seven, he could conjure half a bowl of rice…
But all of it was fake.
His grandfather had once told him:
“An illusion can fool the eyes, but it can’t fool the stomach.”
Right now, he only wanted to fool his little sister.
He gently pinched the air. An invisible current swirled in his palm, and the light warped for an instant.
A plump, steaming bun appeared out of thin air in his hand.
“Guyu,” he said. “Look. There’s a bun.”
Through her tear-blurred vision, Zhu Guyu looked up. The instant she saw the bun, her instinctive hunger overwhelmed everything else.
Without a second thought, she snatched it from him.
She opened her mouth and bit down, only for her teeth to strike something hard with a dull crack.
A sharp pain shot up from the roots of her teeth.
The salty, metallic taste of blood instantly flooded her mouth.
After a long moment, she lowered her head and looked.
There was no bun at all. In her hand was clearly a round stone covered in sand.
“Are you stupid?”
Zhu Jingzhe knocked the stone from his sister’s hand. “You know it’s fake. Why did you bite it anyway?”
Zhu Guyu lowered her head.
Of course she knew it was fake. It was an illusion.
Ever since they were little, their father had conjured candied hawthorns, their mother had conjured new clothes, and their brother had conjured little rabbits.
But in the end—
The candied hawthorns were leaves threaded onto sticks, the new clothes were merely old hemp garments, and the little rabbits would run a few steps before dissolving into a mass of light.
“Let me see if you hurt your tooth.” Zhu Jingzhe reached out to examine her teeth, but she dodged him.
“Brother, I’m hungry…”
Those three short words broke his heart far more than her cries to their parents at the grave.
Zhu Jingzhe could no longer hold himself together. His nose stung, and he pulled his sister into his arms, choking back sobs.
“I’m sorry. I’m useless. All I know are these tricks that can fool people…”
His tears fell onto his sister’s tangled hair.
“Guyu, I can’t conjure a real bun…”
The two children clung to each other and wept bitterly.
Just then—
A scream suddenly rang out from the village, followed by the loud crash of something hitting the ground.
Then came the sound of hooves trampling through the mud, mixed with crude laughter, curses, and raucous shouts.
Zhu Jingzhe’s entire body went rigid.
He knew that sound all too well.
The sea bandits had come ashore again.
The bandits rode scrawny horses and carried huge cleavers. Whenever they entered a village, they robbed everything in sight—grain, cloth, pots, bowls, and pans…
And when there was truly nothing left to take, they took people.
The previous winter, the Wang family’s little grandson had been carried off by them from the edge of the village. No one knew what they had taken him for.
Later, a pile of bones had washed up on the beach.
Human bones.
At the thought, Zhu Jingzhe decisively clapped a hand over his sister’s mouth and pulled her into his arms, crouching behind a large reef.
He held his breath.
Through a crack in the rock, he peered outside.
Sure enough.
Seven or eight mounted bandits charged into the village from the entrance, each with a savage look in his eyes and a bloodstained cleaver in hand.
Their leader was a burly man. He reined in his horse and surveyed the deserted village before spitting on the ground.
“Damn it. There isn’t even a rat left in this miserable fishing village!”
“Boss.” A skinny, monkey-faced bandit suddenly pointed. “Over there! There are two kids on the rocky shore!”
He had no other talents, but his eyes were sharp.
The bandit chief narrowed his eyes and looked over.
Zhu Jingzhe’s heart sank.
He instinctively tried to hide his sister behind him, but what could his bony frame possibly conceal?
“Heh. Two little brats. A bit thin, but they’ve got a few ounces of meat on them.” The bandit chief grinned. “Take them. We’ll stew them when we get back and give the brothers a good meal.”
The horses’ hooves clattered over the rocks, drawing closer and closer.
“Don’t take the children!”
An old, hoarse cry came from the entrance to the village.
Everyone froze for a moment.
An old man with a hunched back and white hair came limping toward them. He threw himself in front of the Zhu siblings.
“Uncle… Uncle Wang…” Zhu Jingzhe recognized him. He was the old man whose grandson had been taken and eaten by the bandits.
Old Uncle Wang spread his withered arms and looked up at the bandit chief.
“Great sir! Great sir, please! The children are still so young! Please show mercy and let them go!”
The bandit chief looked down at him as if he were nothing more than a piece of trash.
“Get out of the way, you old corpse!”
“Great sir!” Old Uncle Wang dropped to his knees. “Take me instead! The children are too thin. They hardly have any meat!”
“Even if they’re thin, their meat is still tender. You’re nothing but a bag of old bones. It’d take more firewood to burn you than you’re worth, and you still want me to take you back to the stronghold? Dream on!”
The bandit chief waved his hand impatiently.
“Kill him. He’s getting on my nerves.”
At his command, one of the bandits raised his blade and walked toward Old Uncle Wang.
“Wait!”
Zhu Jingzhe ran out from behind the reef.
“Let Uncle Wang and my sister go, and I’ll come with you!”
He forced down his fear and stared straight at the bandits.
The bandits burst into laughter.
“You take us for fools? We can take both you and your sister. Why would we let her go?”
Zhu Jingzhe’s face flushed crimson.
He wanted to use an illusion to frighten the bandits away, but his skills were still inadequate. He could conjure only small objects—nowhere near enough to intimidate anyone.
Not far away, many of the villagers were clutching hoes and sickles while hiding behind the rocks. Yet no one dared come out.
These were sea bandits who killed without blinking. The people of this village made their living fishing; naturally, they had no courage to fight the bandits head-on.
Everyone knew that the Zhu siblings were doomed.
“Don’t… Don’t come any closer!” Zhu Jingzhe shielded his sister, his back pressed against the reef with nowhere left to retreat.
Zhu Guyu clutched at her brother’s clothing. Her astonishingly large eyes reflected the bandits’ snarling faces.
Just as the siblings were about to be taken away, Old Uncle Wang found strength from somewhere and lunged forward, wrapping both arms around a bandit’s leg.
He turned toward the villagers hiding nearby and shouted, “These are children from our own village! Are you really going to stand by and watch while the bandits drag them back to their stronghold and boil them alive?!”
“You’re asking to die!”
The bandit chief raised his foot, about to kick the meddlesome old man away.
Then—
A sharp sound suddenly tore through the air.
All anyone saw was a dazzling golden light flying in from the distant sea, carving a clear path through the sky.
The next instant—
Thud!
The bolt of light pierced straight through the bandit chief’s chest.
It entered from the front and burst out through his back.
The cluster of crimson flames clinging to its tip exploded the instant it tore through flesh.
