By the time Luo Jiao arrived within the borders of Sanqing Mountain, dusk had already fallen two days later.
When she had left the yamen with the Gold Leaf Token in hand, Luo Jiao had managed to squeeze a tidy sum out of the Minor Clerk, so on the road she could afford to be generous, eating and drinking as she pleased, spending when the need arose, and sparing herself a few steps whenever possible.
After all, her foot injury had not fully healed. A few short strides were barely manageable, but any brisk march or long trek would be pushing it.
Along the way, Xu Liangdi had been holding her breath in silence, refusing to speak no matter what, and Luo Jiao was hardly cut out for one-man comedy. Two whole days of wordless travel left Luo Jiao with a strange, mournful feeling, like she was trudging along in a funeral procession.
The moment the word “funeral” crossed her mind, Luo Jiao’s thoughts sank at once.
By her calculations, today was the twenty-seventh of the third month. Barely a dozen hours remained before Xu Liangdi’s Soul Spirit dissipated completely.
So those silences were not just grief. Her connection to this world was fading too.
“Do you still want to see the clouds and the sea?”
Luo Jiao tossed the question into her Sea of Consciousness.
If Xu Liangdi still wanted to see them, then Luo Jiao would oblige. She would rest lightly for two hours tonight, set out at dawn, and climb high to gaze at the sea.
After all, there was little time left for her.
But if the affair at Little Mo Fishing Village had stripped away all of Xu Liangdi’s desire to see the ocean, then Luo Jiao would not force the matter. She would simply find a comfortable inn, sleep soundly through the night, and bid her a proper farewell tomorrow.
Luo Jiao was not the type to toil uncomplainingly for others. She had no intention of hurrying the whole way only to end up with a one-sided sentimentality.
Xu Liangdi did not answer.
Whether she did not wish to, or truly could not, Luo Jiao could not tell.
She had asked far too many questions like this on the road, and every one had sunk like a stone into the sea.
“I know your fate has been cruel, and I know why your heart trembles,” Luo Jiao said. “But you must understand, you have only a dozen hours left of your seven days. Xu Liangdi, are you certain you want your final moments frozen forever on these disgusting people and disgusting affairs, instead of on the magnificent sights you have longed for all this time?”
Xu Liangdi remained silent.
“Besides, I’m the one running the errands. You just sit back and enjoy the view.” Is it really worth agonizing over this for so long? Luo Jiao grumbled inwardly.
Still, no answer came.
Luo Jiao sighed, tipped her head back, and studied the sky.
The western glow had faded, and a thin evening mist drifted along the street.
The gate overhead read “Jinguan City,” and the nearest teahouse bore a signboard reading “Youjian Teahouse.”
But across that signboard ran an unmistakable slash of Sword Qi, cleaving it clean down the middle. It looked rather comical.
The light was dim, and Luo Jiao could not see clearly, nor did she much care. She strode straight into the teahouse.
There was hardly anyone inside. Tables and chairs lay in disarray, the whole place carrying the air of something abandoned and awaiting repair.
The Tavern Attendant, at least, was enthusiastic. “Miss, will you be staying the night, or just eating?”
“You can lodge here?” Luo Jiao looked left and right, thoroughly astonished.
The teahouse was dingy and grey. Though a few floors above did stack rooms, they looked more like long-abandoned storage closets than proper guest rooms. Strange, however she looked at it.
“Of course we can,” the attendant said. “Even a sparrow has all five organs. Don’t let our humble teahouse fool you. Food, drink, lodging, entertainment, we’ve got it all.”
Luo Jiao was doubtful. “It’s awfully deserted, though.”
“Special times, special times. There was trouble just a few days ago.”
The attendant gave a few ingratiating chuckles and explained, “Aiya, it was the storyteller. A few days ago he said some things he shouldn’t have, offended the wrong person, and got beaten half to death. He’s been laid up in the clinic for ages now with no sign of improvement.”
Luo Jiao’s eyes went wide with astonishment. “What kind of thug is that vicious?!”
The attendant rubbed the rag in his hands, glanced around, and lowered his voice. “Someone who is… universally acknowledged to be a lunatic.”
A hundred years had passed. Luo Jiao figured that even if this lunatic were as “universally acknowledged” as claimed, she still might not know her.
But in the spirit of diligent learning, she listened attentively all the same. “May I ask the lunatic’s name?”
“We don’t usually speak it outright,” the attendant said mysteriously. “We generally just call her Elder Ye of the Wind Grace Sect.”
Luo Jiao stopped asking.
Definitely don’t know her, she thought to herself. I never knew many of those bookish cultivators from the Wind Grace Sect to begin with, let alone anyone surnamed Ye. Oh, except A-Zhou.
A-Zhou. Ye Qingzhou. Her Junior Sister from the same sect at Sanqing Mountain a hundred years ago. A year after Luo Jiao completed her training, Daoist Sanqing had decided to wander the world, and with a Recommendation Letter, escorted Ye Qingzhou safely into the Wind Grace Sect.
Back then, the Wind Grace Sect was blessed with talent and beautiful land. Even the plaque above its gate was five times the size of Sanqing Mountain’s. And as a proper great sect, its conditions exceeded Sanqing Mountain’s by far. So when Luo Jiao, then wandering the Nine Provinces, heard the news, she had not worried much. When Ye Qingzhou sent letters reporting on her studies, Luo Jiao’s replies were full of nothing but polite pleasantries.
A-Zhou… Glancing at the attendant before her, Luo Jiao thought again, Mm. A-Zhou was always clear-hearted and open. She could never be the lunatic this fellow speaks of.
Then a thought flashed through her mind. That slash of Sword Qi on the signboard outside, splitting it in two.
She asked, “So that Sword Qi on the signboard, was that the work of that Wind Grace Sect elder too?”
The attendant answered awkwardly, “Y-yes.”
Well, Luo Jiao thought, the lunatic’s skill is decent enough.
Quite a clean cut, actually.
Her eyes fell on the menu. Following the recommendations, she ordered a few dishes, received the attendant’s cheery “Right away,” and closed her eyes to rest.
In the time it takes a cup of tea to cool, the appetizers arrived.
Carrying the plates over, the attendant added, “I forgot to ask earlier, Miss. Have you come to Jinguan City looking for family? Or visiting friends?”
“Neither.” Luo Jiao took a big gulp of barley tea and answered offhandedly, “I’m going to Sanqing Mountain.”
She had expected the attendant to toss out a few idle compliments about the mountain’s lovely scenery, its misty seas of clouds, and so on. But when she set down her cup and lifted her head, all she met was the attendant’s stunned stare.
And what a stare it was. If an ordinary person saw an epileptic running naked through the market, they would surely wear that same astonished expression. Every shade of shock gathered on one face before condensing into a single sentence: “Miss, you truly are brave to the point of recklessness.”
Luo Jiao froze, puzzled. “Reckless how?”
“Miss, have you forgotten what I just told you?” the attendant said awkwardly. “You see, that mad elder didn’t just cleave our signboard in two with one stroke of her sword. With that same stroke… she split apart the entire Sanqing Mountain.”
Luo Jiao: “Huh??”
The attendant drew a deep breath. “If you don’t believe me, climb somewhere high and look to the southwest,” he said. “I guarantee you won’t see so much as a hair of it!”
Luo Jiao’s eyes curved. She smiled carelessly and wrote it off as the attendant talking nonsense.
Who could topple an entire mountain with a single stroke? Luo Jiao certainly couldn’t, and she didn’t believe anyone else could either. Besides, on the road she had glanced toward Sanqing Mountain several times, and the mountain had been standing there just fine!
“Why would anyone split the mountain?” was all she asked.
“No idea,” the attendant said. “All I know is that a hundred years ago, before Elder Ye entered the Wind Grace Sect… she was from Sanqing Mountain. Maybe there’s some old story behind it.”
“F-from… Sanqing… Mountain?” Luo Jiao hesitated for a moment, then asked in a half-joking tone, “Wait a moment. This Elder Ye you’re talking about… it wouldn’t happen to be Ye, Ye, Ye Qingzhou, would it?”
The attendant gave her an odd sidelong look. “Who else could it be?”
He stifled a snicker, as if mocking her ignorance, then went on, “Ah, never mind. I’ve seen plenty of people like you who know there are tigers on the mountain yet head straight for it anyway. Your life is your own to look after. No one else can answer for it.”
Night had settled. Luo Jiao ate her meal hurriedly, asked the attendant for some hot water, and chose the room farthest inside for the sake of quiet.
The door creaked shut behind her, and Luo Jiao flopped onto the bed.
The meal had been sloppy, tasteless. Her stomach churned, and her thoughts churned with it, all because of the attendant’s complaints.
His complaints about the “mad elder of the Wind Grace Sect.”
Not that she suspected anyone of twisting the truth with nonsense, nor had she wondered whether Ye Qingzhou had truly undergone some change of temperament, or whether some other reason lay behind it. For a moment, Luo Jiao simply found it hard to accept.
A hundred years had passed, and yet nothing much had changed. It was not as though seas had turned to mulberry fields and people to strangers. Ye Qingzhou was still in the Wind Grace Sect. She had even risen to an elder’s seat.
If nothing had changed… then how had she split Sanqing Mountain apart?!
…All right.
Luo Jiao recalled that on the road here, she had glanced toward that area a few times, and there had clearly been the shadow of a mountain.
The claim that “Ye Qingzhou split the mountain apart” might not even be true.
Luo Jiao rolled over on the bed.
Whether or not, she thought, I have to help Xu Liangdi fulfill her dying wish and make the trip to Sanqing Mountain. And even if it were only for the attendant’s words, this Sanqing Mountain of a hundred years later is worth investigating for myself.
But just as she settled on the route, Luo Jiao stared at the pillar in the room for a long moment, and suddenly caught a strange scent.
The fragrance was cheap and coarse, faintly tinged with the smell of rotting waterlogged wood, and somewhat like a Knockout Drug.
Only then did it hit her. Her hands and feet were losing all feeling!
Dragging her heavy eyelids open, she looked toward the door—
And suddenly heard a roar of alarm.
It was Xu Liangdi, silent for so long in the Sea of Consciousness!
“…Hey!” She did not know Luo Jiao’s name, so in her panic she could only use “hey” as a stand-in. “Get to the window, quickly…” She glanced around, discovered the cramped little room had no window at all, and amended, “Or… run! RUN!!”
Luo Jiao rolled her eyes and said flatly, “Far too late for that.”
“What do we do?!” Xu Liangdi was on the verge of tears. “I can see three men standing outside… and one of them is holding a tube, with drugs hidden inside…”
Luo Jiao cut her off as if none of it concerned her, steering the conversation elsewhere. “You played dead for days, and now you remember how to talk to me?”
“You still have the leisure to joke?!” Xu Liangdi snapped furiously.
Luo Jiao gave a couple of dry “heh heh”s and was about to retort when she heard the three men outside snickering darkly.
One asked, “Should be fast asleep by now?”
“Wait a bit longer,” another answered. “This knockout stuff isn’t the finest grade. Takes a while to kick in…”
“………”
Through the haze, Luo Jiao could also hear the attendant’s voice. “Off alone to storm Sanqing Mountain. She’s either a madwoman or a fool,” he said. “If she’s mad, then consider it us ridding the people of a scourge. If she’s a fool, then all the better to play with.”
“You did well getting the details out of her! Hahaha, otherwise we’d never have dared move so boldly.” The one who had spoken first snickered slyly. “I’ve never seen such a fresh, pretty young thing in all of Jinguan City!”
“Ah, ever since the Wind Grace Sect’s lunatic split Sanqing Mountain clean out of sight, our Jinguan City has slowly gone to rot, turned into one of those ‘Ghost Cities’ from vulgar storybooks. It’s always the same few people coming and going. Dead boring. Big Zhuang, we had a deal. We’ve knocked her out for you, so get to it. Once the rice is cooked, she’s as good as your wife. Best if you leave a seed behind, but even if not, there’s always tomorrow.” The attendant had shed his easygoing, laughing demeanor from that evening, and now sounded shrewd, scheming, and vicious. “In any case, Big Zhuang, remember this. I, your brother the attendant, have done you an enormous favor. Remember to ‘repay the debt’ later.”
“Of course, of course.” The man called Big Zhuang gave a greasy chuckle. “Aiyo, I’m already past thirty and still haven’t taken a wife. Shameful, truly shameful. And now I’ve picked up such a beautiful bride, heh heh, heh heh. A dream come true…”
Luo Jiao understood by now.
Marriage, mourning, matching, heirs. It always came back to the same tired affairs. None of this muck had anything to do with Luo Jiao. But it was precisely this garbage that had turned Xu Liangdi, fourteen years old and utterly alone, into such a prized morsel that every jackal and wolf came snapping for a bite.
And that made it Luo Jiao’s business.
She spat inwardly and sneered, These mortals are as pathetic as ever. Nothing in their heads but filth.
Creak.
A low, hoarse sound. The wooden door was being pried open from outside.
A man with an oil-slick face walked in, a square face layered with fat that quivered when he smiled, lending him a false air of honest simplicity.
Luo Jiao had absolutely never met this man, yet his face felt terribly familiar. Those wine-sodden deadbeats in the pleasure houses, craving fine liquor with empty purses, wore exactly this “honest” smile. Or those farmers at the village edge, hauling hoes under the scorching sun, faces gleaming with sweat and sunlight when they lifted their heads. And yet this man’s broad, square frame also reminded her of the butcher at the market entrance. Built like an ox, like a horse, thick and solid, the kind who could knock down a whole row of men with one swing. Luo Jiao always felt that past a certain age, all men seemed to share a single face. A face that could not quite be called ugly, but would never be pleasant to look at either.
She guessed this was “Big Zhuang.”
She let out a scornful laugh without the slightest restraint.
The moment their eyes met, Big Zhuang’s smile stiffened. His eyes went wide with utter disbelief, and he muttered, “Aiyo, didn’t sleep yourself dead?”
Luo Jiao’s smile was neither smile nor sneer. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Big Zhuang blinked, then some thought seemed to occur to him, and he snickered again. “Heh heh, heh heh. Pretty bold little lady, aren’t you.”
Little lady. Bride. Wife… These days, Luo Jiao felt as if she were being smothered by such words. They made her want to vomit.
Big Zhuang stared at her, pressing closer step by step, greed glinting in his eyes. “Don’t mind us, little lady. Someone as pretty as you… I, Big Zhuang, will surely treat you well.”
Luo Jiao only leaned lazily against the bed’s edge, eyes lowered, and asked, “Why me?”
Big Zhuang froze. He knew his characters but had hardly touched a book, and what little wit he had could not produce any real reasoning, so he simply parroted the attendant: “My brother says, a child carrying gold through a crowded market, or a beauty showing her face in the street, both are asking for trouble. And you, little lady, you’re both at once.” Big Zhuang sat down on the edge of the bed, glanced outside the door, then lowered his voice. “Little lady, I never much liked books as a boy, but even I know one truth. When a plump, delicious lamb wanders into a wolf pack… isn’t the lamb itself at fault?”
Luo Jiao shot him a look of pure disgust and muttered, “Strange. Did I step on some spirit’s tail? Why has my luck been so wretched lately, nothing but vermin crossing my path?”
Big Zhuang didn’t catch her words, but he saw the undisguised loathing in Luo Jiao’s eyes. He couldn’t care less. All he could think of was how, after tonight, he would surely make her submit.
“Hey! Use that… your… spell technique, hurry!” Watching Big Zhuang lean in, Xu Liangdi spun in frantic circles. “What are you waiting for?!”
Luo Jiao answered only in her mind, listlessly, No need.
She faced Big Zhuang directly and said, “A child carrying gold. A lamb among wolves. To eat the lamb is a wolf’s nature. Tell me, is harming your own kind your nature?”
“Not quite.” Big Zhuang mimicked her fancy manner of speaking. “Loving money and loving women, that’s my nature.”
Luo Jiao gave a dry laugh. “By that logic, the weak entering the domain of the strong, is the weakness itself also a sin?”
Big Zhuang’s grin grew all the more lecherous. “Of course.”
Luo Jiao: “Good.”
That “good” of hers made no sense at all, but Big Zhuang took it as her accepting her fate.
The man’s hand slid toward the hem of Luo Jiao’s robe. Just as he was about to move, the young woman repeated, “The weak, entering the domain of the strong?”
Big Zhuang: “…Huh?”
Luo Jiao swatted his hand away and sat bolt upright, her eyes crystal clear, without the slightest trace of the drug. “You seem to have gotten one thing wrong. The weak, the strong…”
“You don’t belong to the latter.”
The words had barely fallen when, giving Big Zhuang no time to react, a pair of slender hands clasped his fingers and snapped his finger bones clean in two!
In the next instant, Big Zhuang felt a blow strike his forehead, and then his balance vanished entirely as he toppled backward!!
CRASH!!
“Urgh, aargh…………”
In the secluded little room of the teahouse, the burly man lay sprawled in a heap, as if he’d bitten his tongue, cursing in a mangled slur.
The young woman still sat calmly at the edge of the bed, a smile in her eyes.
Luo Jiao loosened up her joints.
For a moment, something of her old bearing returned.
This body… I’m getting more and more used to it, she thought.
But Luo Jiao knew too. The more control she seized over this body, the more Xu Liangdi’s spirit would scatter and fade.
There was no time for sorrow now, though.
At the enormous crash from within, the two men outside burst through the door.
At the sight before them, astonishment flashed across their eyes, but they quickly collected themselves, snatched up wooden planks from the corridor, and like two enraged lions charged straight at her—
