He walked around the village, feeling increasingly cold inside, because the usually bustling and lively village was now completely deserted—so quiet it was frightening. He started at the entrance of the village, pushing open the door of every house, only to find no one inside. In some houses, there was still freshly cooked millet porridge in the pot, and small plates of pickled vegetables neatly arranged on the table, but not a single person could be found.

Henry Foster wandered dazedly along the village path and pushed open the door of the village chief’s house—the chief was not there.

He pushed open the door of Widow Hua’s house—Widow Hua was not there.

He checked the chicken coop at Old Lady Zhang’s house, only to find even the chickens were gone.

What the hell—where are the people?

Where are the chickens?

……

……

It wasn’t until Henry Foster reached the backyard of Ruby’s house that he saw a row of hasty, scrawled characters on a mud wall, as if they had been scratched out in a rush. It was clearly in Ruby’s tone: “Henry Foster gege, the villagers are taking the chance to escape while you’re not here. I don’t want to go with them, I want to marry you and have babies, but my dad came out with the butcher’s knife, Henry Foster gege, you must remem—”

The message was only half-finished, clearly interrupted.

This left Henry Foster staring blankly: “So the whole village ran away just to avoid me?”

A chill crept straight into his brain, then turned into a volcano-like rage: “Was that really necessary?”

“At most, I just peeked at Widow Hua bathing, took a little advantage of Ruby, roughed up the village kids, tricked the old men, stole a chicken from Old Lady Wang, pulled up Old Man Sun’s radishes, pretended to be a ghost at midnight and scared Poor Bolton so badly he fell into the latrine and broke his leg—though that wasn’t really my intention. As for peeing in the village chief’s iron pot, that was just because I was hiding to steal meat and got too anxious…”

“And you all actually ran away…”

“Why did you have to leave me behind and run off…”

“I’m rich now…”

“……”

“……”

Henry Foster sat in a daze on the village millstone, still hoping the villagers might come back. But he sat there until the moon was high in the sky, and the whole village was pitch black, with not a single shadow in sight. Finally, he couldn’t sit still any longer. He jumped up, stretched his arms and legs, and thought bitterly, “Let those bastards run if they want. Lord Henry Foster will go to the immortal sect to become a cultivator…”

Since there was no one left in the village, Henry Foster hardened his heart, went to the Zhangs’ and scooped a bowl of millet porridge, went to the Lis’ and grabbed a plate of pickled vegetables, found half a basin of stewed chicken in Old Lady Wang’s kitchen cupboard, and fished out a jar of homemade wine from under the village chief’s bed… They must have left in a hurry, because all these goodies that usually made Henry Foster drool were left behind, fulfilling his wish to take whatever he wanted.

So, right there on the millstone, Henry Foster had a hearty meal and even took a couple of proper sips of wine.

As the moon set in the west, his head grew dizzy, and a bit of heroic spirit welled up inside him.

“Pa!”

Imitating the heroes in the stories told by Walter Redman, he smashed the wine jar and strode out of the village.

“Lord Henry Foster is off to cultivate immortality…”

He bid farewell to the empty village, leaving in high spirits.

……

……

As for the fact that the entire village had suddenly disappeared just to avoid him, Henry Foster didn’t think too much about it at the time. In his little head, he knew the villagers were truly fed up with him, so it seemed normal for them to leave. He didn’t think much beyond that, limited by his own experience. But since there was no one left in the village, he really didn’t have many choices left.

The letter of recommendation he’d gotten from the black-clad old woman Granny Hill of the Qin family in the Eastern Lands had only been considered a backup plan before, but now it was finally useful.

Usually, Henry Foster wandered all over the place and, having picked up the habit of nosiness from Widow Hua, he actually knew quite a few things. For example, although he’d never left Niutou Village since he was little, he’d heard of the famous immortal sects of Anzhou. The Taibai Mountain mentioned by Granny Hill was something he’d heard about from Frank Stone. He didn’t know the exact location, but he did know the mountain was west of Niutou Village.

At first, he set out for the immortal sect in a fit of anger, but as he calmed down, he’d already run more than ten miles before turning back. He went to the old locust tree at the village entrance and carved the words “I’m off to Taibai Mountain to cultivate—Lord Henry Foster” to remind the immortal elder who might come looking for him, so he wouldn’t come back and not find him.

Whether there was any other reason, it’s hard to say.

After leaving that message, he set out again, first heading to a town twenty miles away to ask for directions to Taibai Mountain. Only then did he learn that Taibai Mountain was actually a thousand miles away—a distance that, for a child like him, couldn’t be farther.

To travel that far, he needed money.

Henry Foster had money, and it was the kind used by immortals, but ordinary people didn’t recognize it!

Henry Foster remembered Walter Redman saying that immortal money was worth more than gold or silver, and could be exchanged at the money houses in big cities—a single spirit coin could be traded for several pieces of gold. The purple crystal in his pocket should be worth quite a bit, so he went to the money house to try his luck.

But just before entering, he bit his finger and hesitated for a moment.