Worn into a premature 'old man' by the pressures of life, Zhang Daniu led the way. With his two children, both eighteen or nineteen years old, he carried water to pour over Li Chang'an, then knelt respectfully, kowtowed, and said, "Lord Mountain God, you have protected our village's hunters. We will not allow you to be harmed in this mountain fire!"
Watching the men and women before him—as insignificant as ants, dressed in ragged clothes, yet carrying bucket after bucket of water—Li Chang'an's feelings were rather complicated.
His feelings were complicated because, from start to finish, he had never paid them much mind.
Even when he had acted to protect them, his greatest motivation had been nothing more than coveting the Incense they offered.
And yet, even so, at this critical juncture, these ant-like lives had still come for him, willing to risk being consumed by the raging flames just to protect him.
He didn't consider himself a bad person.
