Chapter 83: The Promise-Breaker (Part 2): Promises Made to Others Must Be Kept! Part 2

People chattered around him, talking over each other, but he wrote unhurriedly in the book, assigning rooms one by one as he finished.

Tan Que wanted to cut in line and ask directly, but Shang Shan stopped her. They waited their turn properly. When they finally reached the front, they asked where the iron flower performance troupe was staying. Even though the place was mobbed, shoulder to shoulder, the elder flipped through slowly. The impatient Tan Que nearly climbed over the counter herself but was pulled back by Shang Shan.

The elder looked around and said there were over a dozen such troupes from different places. Shang Shan specified the location, and then she knew.

With the address in hand, they set off to find them. Shang Shan secured Zhengchun and Red Satin, then caught sight of a flash of black clothing hem. Looking back, she saw her master following behind and lit up with joy. “You’re coming with me to meet them?”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Mm.”

Shang Shan was already thrilled that this woman had brought her to Pot City, but now she was even willing to accompany her to see friends!

She bounced along. “Perfect! I can introduce you to them. They don’t know I’ve started cultivating yet—they’ll be so surprised!”

Mu Qian Tan glanced at her and looked ahead. “Lead the way.”

If this were just a simple reunion with friends, she had no interest in watching. She’d rather go back and sleep.

But it wasn’t—quite the opposite. This would be Shang Shan’s first emotional setback. She would discover that the “good friends” she had missed for a whole year and traveled far to meet had never felt the same. It had been one-sided wishful thinking on her part from the start.

A scene where the protagonist got slapped down like this? Of course Mu Qian Tan had to get front-row seats for some full-spectrum, no-holds-barred mockery!

On the way to find them, Shang Shan removed the evil ghost mask from her head and explained the crafting details to Tan Que—how to paint it, how to carve the gourd. Tan Que scratched her head after listening. “You’re so smart. I couldn’t make one.”

Shang Shan laughed. “It’s not me—my good friends taught me! I’ll teach you later too.”

Tan Que said, “Great! I want a frog mask, one for our princess.”

“All good, all good!”

In the midst of their chat, the three reached the fourth floor and found the right room. The door stood open, and raucous male laughter poured out from inside. Shang Shan recognized the familiar voices and dashed to the doorway. “I’m here!”

Inside, a dozen or so burly men sat or stood around, all dark-skinned with rolled-up sleeves and solid muscles. Wooden crates were kicked to the center with several bowls of wine, peanut shells scattered on the floor. Her shout made them all turn, and spotting a blue-skinned person out of nowhere startled them—they nearly grabbed stools to smash.

Shang Shan hurriedly said, “It’s me! I’m Shang Shan!”

At the name, the crowd calmed down. Seeing her clothes confirmed it.

Yet there was no warm welcome as imagined. The men exchanged glances, their faces twisting into awkward, amused expressions. Someone muttered lowly, “She really came.”

Another said, “We were just messing with her…”

The voice was soft and mumbled; Shang Shan didn’t catch it. She and Tan Que stood together, scanning the room. Tan Que poked her shoulder. “Why aren’t they talking?”

Shang Shan was still smiling. “Knife Bro, I’m here.”

A man with a horizontal scar on his lip stood up, scraped a hand over his bluish scalp, and waved. “Find a spot to sit anywhere.”

Shang Shan perked up and pulled Tan Que inside, but there were no empty seats—every spot was taken. So she sat cross-legged on the floor, wiped the area next to her clean with her sleeve, and invited Tan Que to sit too.

“When are you all performing?” she asked.

Knife Bro ate two peanuts. “Last day.”

Though the window was open, the room still carried a stuffy sweat stench. Mu Qian Tan disliked the smell and did not enter the room. She didn’t even show her face, simply standing by the door and listening to the conversation inside.

She couldn’t miss a single word. Every one could be used later to mock that stupid dragon, and she intended to make full use of them.

Tan Que held Lingdang in her arms. She kept feeling unfriendly gazes sweeping over them, but since they came from her friend’s friends, she felt too awkward to say anything. Lingdang also sensed the atmosphere and covered her eyes, turning her body to bury her face in the girl’s embrace.

The room fell quiet. Shang Shan pursed her lips, raised her arm, and Zhengchun stood on her forearm, spreading its vibrant wings. She said, “Look, this is Zhengchun. I saved this little demon during class. Her voice sounds just like a human’s.”

The people opposite watched, but showed no reaction. Only Knife Bro said, “You still like these weird things.”

“This isn’t a thing. She’s my friend too.” At the word, Shang Shan smiled again. “And this one—she’s called Red Satin. My master wants to raise her. She loves apples, but they have to be cut into pieces, or she’ll choke…”

A red little snake crawled out from her hair, flicking its dark red tongue as it slithered around her arm. The faces across from her changed several times, but Shang Shan kept introducing. “This friend of mine is Tan Que. We met at Flying Dragon Stronghold! She can talk to frogs—super impressive! Lingdang’s the same. She can save people just by licking them with her tongue! She’s kinda like me, though I can only save the ones I’ve bitten…”

She chattered on happily, saying a whole bunch, but discovered no one echoed her. She blinked, clutched her own ankle, and looked one by one at the people opposite, as if expecting someone to say something to her.

Knife Bro lifted his wine bowl for a sip. When he set it down, he knocked peanut shells off the wooden crate, scattering them on the floor. Shang Shan noticed the mess of peanut skins and poked at them with her finger. Grasping for words, she said, “This place is so dirty. Let me sweep it up for you.”

Knife Bro said, “Sure.”

Tan Que finally couldn’t stand it. She grabbed her. “Why should you sweep?”

Shang Shan said, “I’m not tired. It’s no trouble.”

Tan Que stood up. “Why don’t we just go? No need to stay here.”

Before Shang Shan could respond, someone behind her let out a “pfft” of laughter. She turned to look and saw one of them pointing at his own front tooth, then at Tan Que. The two shook with suppressed laughter.

Tan Que was missing a front tooth, visible when she spoke, and they were mocking her for it.

She hadn’t noticed anything wrong before, but in that moment, Shang Shan’s mind buzzed.

They dared to act like this right to her face. Anyone else would have been beaten down already. Tan Que wanted to lash out—her fists clenched—but considering her friend’s feelings, she simply grabbed Shang Shan’s hand, intending to pull her away.

At that moment, someone else said, “Freak herself, surrounded by freaks.”

Shang Shan’s feet rooted to the spot.

She turned her head very slowly. “She’s not a freak. Neither am I…” She wanted to call out the name of the one mocking her, but realized she didn’t know it.

The people before her, standing or sitting, were all familiar faces—the few in the village willing to listen to her ramble endlessly about daily trivia. But they truly had never told her their names.

That person said, “Always been weird, talking nonsense no one understands. At least she used to look human. Now it’s worse—what the hell is that stuff she drags around? Isn’t that a snake? And those huge frogs. Disgusting…”

Another said, “Don’t say that. She came all this way. Must’ve been tough.”

“What, you wanna take her along for the show? Scared everyone off already.”

“Who knew she’d actually show up? It was just talk.”

Shang Shan trembled her lips, stomped her foot, and declared loudly, “Promises made to others must be kept!”

“And!” She took two steps forward. “Don’t talk about Lingdang. She’s a princess—so cute! She spits out coins, does magic tricks, and gets shy too. She…”

She rushed to explain, to refute, but abruptly stopped.

The expressions on these people’s faces looked familiar—much like her master’s at certain times. The look of listening unwillingly, then dismissing it, not bothering to respond, finding it all pointless.

But clearly, back in the village, they had listened. They taught her to make masks, talked to her, and never called her a freak.

Perhaps it had always been her talking to herself. Her words—they had never truly listened.

Only now did she realize it.

Tan Que hissed and lunged to beat him. Shang Shan hugged her tight and said only, “Let’s go.”

Tan Que struggled. “Let me go!”

Shang Shan said, “Let’s go back. I want to eat something delicious!”

She had immense strength, and Tan Que couldn’t break free. As they left, Tan Que spat back furiously, “Your stench can be smelled from eight hundred li away! Don’t you ever bathe? Even after, you’re still a pile of shit! Don’t look at your own dogshit selves before cursing others! You lot are sick for not cherishing a great friend like Shang Shan! Blind, heartless pile of stinking dog shit!”

Something should have been said, something done—at least they shouldn’t leave like this. But Shang Shan’s mind was a mess, like she’d drunk wine, unable to sort her thoughts. She just wanted to get away first. She pushed them out the door without looking up and nearly collided with someone.

Looking up, Shang Shan held the flailing, kicking Tan Que and said with a beaming smile, “Master, let’s go back.”

Mu Qian Tan lowered her gaze and quietly watched her for a moment before stepping aside to walk out.

Shang Shan followed behind, chattering nonstop. “I’m gonna eat chicken later, and beef, and lamb too. Hope it’s not too expensive. Master, do you still have money?”

The woman ahead ignored her. She muttered on, “Otherwise, I could catch rats to earn money. Anyway, I got nothing else these next few days. Tan Que, wanna join me? Don’t curse anymore—your throat’ll hurt later.”

Their voices gradually faded outside. Knife Bro said, “Don’t say ‘freak’ stuff like that out there. Didn’t you see what kind of things are around here? If they hear, they’ll beat you.”

Someone said, “Who knew Pot City was like this? They said it was a performance spot, all kinds welcome, but didn’t expect so many weirdos. Demons and such walking right on the streets. Beats me.”

The room door slammed shut from a gust of wind, the bang startling everyone inside. Knife Bro’s wine bowl fell and shattered into pieces. As he bent to pick them up, he noticed wisps of white mist seeping from the door crack. He muttered oddly, “What’s that?”

A burly man nearer the door opened it and gaped. “What the hell is this!”

Behind the door stood a wall of frigid ice, solidly blocking the way.