“Oh, oh, I mean, there’s no need for a young lady to do this kind of dirty work. I’ll do it, I’ll do it.”

Olivia Thompson didn’t insist either, letting him take the stick, and turned to walk toward the back door.

William Foster grabbed her again: “Where are you going?”

Olivia Thompson slowly lowered her gaze, looking expressionlessly at his large hand gripping her wrist.

William Foster knew it was inappropriate to grab a girl like that, and when he turned to look at Ethan Thompson, even his expression had become strange, so he had to let go and say, “It’s dark, pouring rain, it’s too dangerous to go out alone…”

Before he could finish, a group of martial artists rushed toward the temple through the rain: “There’s a temple here, we can take shelter from the rain!”

William Foster covered his forehead.

Chapter 9: The Spider Demon

Olivia Thompson was probably going out to relieve herself. With a large group of outsiders arriving, it was hard for Olivia Thompson to save face and do her business, so she had to hold it in and sit back down by the campfire. William Foster could only dejectedly sit back down as well, enduring Olivia Thompson’s look as if she were staring at a hooligan.

He just wanted to know if the arrival of these martial artists would startle the monster.

The campfire flickered as the group of martial artists casually entered, laughing and chatting boisterously.

Running into travelers seeking shelter from the rain at a temple was a common occurrence for people of the martial world. They didn’t take William Foster and the others seriously at all. Their gazes lingered a bit longer on the long spears of the Thompson siblings, but they weren’t afraid of trouble. Instead, someone clicked his tongue and laughed, “Such a pretty boy, actually playing with a spear.”

William Foster thought to himself, this is bad, but saw Olivia Thompson slowly eating her rations, ignoring the provocation.

Since she didn’t respond, the others wouldn’t go too far for no reason. They just sneered and said nothing more, turning to chat among themselves.

William Foster was a bit surprised as he looked at Olivia Thompson. This one doesn’t usually have such a good temper…

Olivia Thompson glanced at him sideways and said, “Didn’t you say you were going to clear the cobwebs? Why are you just sitting there?”

William Foster replied casually, “When it’s just us, we can do a thorough cleaning for our own comfort. With this bunch of outsiders, why should I clean for them?”

“Pah, who’s ‘us’ with you?” Olivia Thompson spat, but didn’t insist on the cobweb cleaning anymore. Apparently, she also didn’t want to do any cleaning for this rude bunch.

The martial artists’ banter drifted over.

“Did you hear? There’s been a haunting at Zhang Manor outside Hengshan County. The manor lord was killed by a ghost.”

“Haunted, my foot. Daoist Master Cangsong went to check, came back and said there was no ghost, the man died of illness.”

“If Daoist Master Cangsong says there’s no ghost, then there’s none.” The others looked convinced. “He’s a true man of the Dao, can hold real fire in his mouth and put his hand in boiling oil.”

“So it’s Zhang Manor’s own fault for not doing good deeds, getting their just deserts.”

Their opinions quickly aligned, and they all laughed loudly: “Exactly! What’s so great about those rich families? Maybe one day we’ll just rob the rich to help the poor.”

Ethan Thompson sipped his wine, a faint smile on his face. William Foster knew what he was smiling at—it was a cold smile. In this country, even martial artists believe in gods and immortals, and tricks like putting your hand in boiling oil can be so widely accepted. No wonder those with sense are dissatisfied.

William Foster felt even more frustrated than Ethan Thompson at the moment, because this group’s loud chatter was very likely to anger the monsters here, but he couldn’t find a reason to stop them.

After all, this wasn’t his place—what right did he have to tell people not to talk? And expecting martial artists to speak softly was unrealistic.

The topic among the martial artists shifted again: “About the Lin family…”

Someone immediately responded, “Serves them right. The Imperial Preceptor wanted the Blazing Flint, searched the whole country and couldn’t find it, but that old man Lin clearly had it and dared to hide it.”

“That was for King Wude to refine the Elixir of Immortality, right? This time it’s Blazing Flint, last time it was gathering Purple Herb everywhere, causing a huge uproar and public resentment. I say old man Lin did the right thing, shouldn’t have given it to that foolish king.”

“What do you know? Whether the foolish king lives or dies has nothing to do with us. The Imperial Preceptor is a real immortal, not someone you can afford to offend!”

“Hey… but why would a real immortal help a foolish king make pills?”

On the side, Ethan Thompson was still smiling, but Olivia Thompson couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out angrily: “Purple Herb, Blazing Stone, it’s all the Imperial Preceptor’s doing. Why do you blame the king instead of the Preceptor?”

A martial artist glanced at her and said, “If the king didn’t order the Preceptor to make pills, why would a real immortal bother with all this? The county officials use these things as an excuse to squeeze the people dry—is that the Preceptor’s doing? Isn’t the root of the problem still the king?”

Olivia Thompson wanted to argue back, but Ethan Thompson handed her a piece of flatbread: “Eat.”

Olivia Thompson held back, sulkily eating the bread. This time, though, the martial artists didn’t let her off. A burly man mocked, “Yo, even eating bread looks so effeminate. Must be a little pretty boy from the capital, probably sells his ass to the nobles. No wonder you’re speaking up for the king.”

William Foster saw Olivia Thompson’s face turning purple with anger, and suddenly said, “I advise you all to watch your tongues.”

Someone sneered, “What, are you going to report us to the authorities?”

A burst of raucous laughter shook the roof, causing sand and dust to fall, landing on the cobwebs.

William Foster said coolly, “Don’t blame me for not warning you. You can laugh even louder if you want.”

The burly man who had mocked Olivia Thompson as a pretty boy stood up and laughed to the sky, “I’ll laugh, what are you going to do about it?”