Mei Qing and Hou Shen followed A-San across the Mingshao Sea for some time before exiting the sea from one side and landing on a nearby island. Locals referred to such small sandy islets as “tuo.” Surprisingly, despite being a tiny island in the open sea, there was a well of sweet spring water, the quality of which was remarkably pure and delicious, leaving Mei Qing and Hou Shen astonished and full of admiration.
A-San had brought various prepared delicacies. As noon approached, he casually spread them out on the island, setting up a simple meal with wine for Mei Qing and Hou Shen. The island also had several fish-drying huts and the ruins of an old lighthouse, which made for pleasant scenery and a place to wander. According to A-San, these were remnants from maritime activities of a previous dynasty, long abandoned and left to decay.
It was nearly sunset when Mei Qing and Hou Shen, led by A-San, finally returned to the dock near the village.
“One two three, two two three, following the master up Maoshan…” As soon as they stepped ashore, Mei Qing once again heard the familiar tune of a beggar’s song. Looking up, he indeed saw the familiar gaunt-faced man performing magic tricks at the village entrance, setting up his stage.
“Heh, this magician sure has a good nose for news—he must have heard there’s a happy occasion in the village today and come to offer his blessings,” A-San remarked with a chuckle.
It turned out that according to local customs, whenever there was a joyous event, any traveling entertainers who came by could simply offer a few auspicious words and would be given a place at the banquet, even if they were beggars.
Mei Qing, however, felt a bit puzzled. He had encountered this magician several times since arriving in Yongping. If it were just a coincidence that they traveled the same route, that would be one thing. But now, even in this remote little port village, the magician had appeared again. That was hard to explain as mere chance. Quietly, Mei Qing extended his spiritual awareness to probe the man, but after a long examination, found nothing unusual. He finally withdrew his mind, shaking his head slightly, and followed A-San into the village. Before leaving, Mei Qing couldn’t help glancing back at the magician a few times. The man’s eyes were fixed on the tasseled ball in front of him, murmuring incantations, seemingly completely indifferent to Mei Qing. Mei Qing could only shake his head again, thinking he might have been overly suspicious, and hurried forward to catch up with A-San on his way to Shi Mengzhu’s residence.
What Mei Qing didn’t know was that, after he turned away, the magician’s eyes flickered slightly, casting a brief glance at Mei Qing’s retreating figure. A faint, almost imperceptible smile curled at the corner of his lips.
Gangli Village had no more than a few hundred people at most. The wedding of two young villagers naturally became a major event for the entire village, and nearly every elder and child had been invited to attend.
As a distinguished guest from afar, Mei Qing was even seated at the main table alongside Shi Mengzhu. Only on the way there did Mei Qing realize with some embarrassment that he had come empty-handed. Thinking quickly, he had A-San prepare some paper and ink, and he painted four birds and flowers as a wedding gift.
The village banquet was naturally quite different from the refined feasts Mei Qing had attended in the capital—much more lively and chaotic. People were walking around with cups of wine, offering toasts. The bride was the girl Mei Qing had met before, Sweetie, though naturally she was not to be seen now. The groom, Dashan, was tall and looked honest and kind-hearted. However, after a few rounds of drinking with a group of young men his age, his face turned as red as Guan Yu’s. Eventually, it was Shi Mengzhu, smiling gently, who intervened and said a few words, finally sparing the poor fellow.
Mei Qing also noticed that the gaunt-faced magician had indeed appeared at the banquet. However, according to local customs, traveling performers were seated separately and not mixed with the villagers. Thus, the magician sat alone at his own table, eating rather politely and ignoring everyone who glanced his way.
Mei Qing himself was toasted several times by the enthusiastic villagers. Fortunately, his cultivation had improved, and a few cups of wine were nothing to him. Hou Shen, on the other hand, accepted every toast without refusal. After dozens of cups, his face remained unchanged, as if he hadn’t drunk a drop, and had even managed to knock out several of his drinking companions.
Shi Mengzhu seemed to be in a particularly good mood. Though the villagers looked at him with deep respect, they still approached him warmly for a toast. By the end of the banquet, he was clearly a bit tipsy.
As the moon rose in the east, the feast finally ended. While the younger crowd stayed behind to play pranks on the newlyweds, most of the villagers returned home, somewhat drunk. The magician, seeking a place to stay for the night, was shown by A-San to a spare servant’s room in Shi’s house. Shi Mengzhu, still chatting happily with Mei Qing, returned to the mansion with him.
Shi Mengzhu was still in high spirits and, upon arriving home, did not go to rest. Instead, he ordered tea to be served, eager to continue their conversation into the night. Mei Qing, however, noticed that Shi had drunk quite a bit, and considering his age, staying up late might harm his health. He quickly dissuaded him, saying he himself had drunk too much and had a slight headache, so it would be better to rest early.
Back in their guest room, Hou Shen chuckled and said, “Your drinking ability is truly impressive. If we had kept going, even the last guy who tried to match you would have fallen over.”
Hou Shen winked and suddenly pulled out a leather pouch from somewhere on his person. Shaking it slightly, a sloshing sound could be heard from inside. It turned out he hadn’t drunk a single drop—the clever fellow had somehow poured all the wine into the pouch.
Mei Qing burst into silent laughter. After tidying up a bit, the two lay down to rest.
Moonlight poured in through the window. Mei Qing sat cross-legged on the bed, drawing in the moon’s essence. After refining it twice with his spiritual energy, the energy slowly descended from his golden core, circulating around it and merging with his internal qi, gradually integrating into a unified whole.
His method of cultivating the Thunder Dao was becoming increasingly refined and complete. His internal energy had nearly reached a liquid state. Truly, the Shenshao Dao was wondrous. Unfortunately, despite his abundant spiritual energy, he had very few corresponding techniques at his disposal. Before leaving, when he told Bi Zhen of his journey, she had been deeply worried. However, most of the techniques she practiced were unique to her sect and incompatible with Mei Qing’s path, so she could only sigh helplessly.
The only somewhat comforting technique was the method of transforming objects into one’s body. Though not a major technique, it was extremely practical. Mei Qing had stored his talisman for the escape technique within this method. When needed, a mere thought would summon it instantly, making it very convenient.
This technique did not create a physical space within the body but instead stored objects that had been refined by spiritual awareness within one’s consciousness. The exact nature of this method was difficult for Mei Qing to describe—it was as if he had placed an object into a pocket, except the pocket existed within his mind.
Only objects he had personally refined could be stored in this space. Surprisingly, however, the inkstone turned out to be an exception. Mei Qing had merely tried it on a whim, and the inkstone vanished before his eyes, appearing within his mind as easily as if it had always belonged there.
After finishing his cultivation, Mei Qing gazed blankly at the moon, his thoughts drifting to Bi Zhen, whose whereabouts were unknown. After their secret nighttime exploration of the Yang family’s old mansion, when they recounted their experiences, Bi Zhen had gasped in alarm. Completely ignoring Mei Qing’s reckless decision to act on his own, she had angrily accused the old master of neglecting him, sending only “two useless people” as protection, clearly with the ulterior motive of “using another’s knife to kill.” Mei Qing had tried to defend himself, but Bi Zhen’s complaints had drowned out his words.
“If you dare to take such reckless risks again, I’ll never speak to you again!” she had said, pouting and fuming.
That was why she had been so worried when Mei Qing left the capital. It had taken him a great deal of effort to calm her down.
Now, alone beneath the moonlight, Mei Qing felt a sudden emptiness in his heart. At this hour, they would usually be exchanging thoughts through spiritual connection, whispering secrets in the night. Now, separated by distance, they both gazed at the same moon, sharing the same longing and sorrow.
Just as Mei Qing was lost in thought, a sudden fluctuation in his internal energy startled him. Instantly, he extended his spiritual awareness and sensed a powerful surge of spiritual energy not far away, clashing and vibrating violently. In his ears, faintly, came the sound of thunder and a few dull thuds.
Puzzled, Mei Qing got up and went to the window. The night was clear, with not a cloud in the sky—no sign of a storm. He probed again with his spiritual awareness, but everything had vanished, as if his earlier perception had been nothing but an illusion.
Shaking his head in confusion, Mei Qing could only return to bed and fall asleep.
The next day, A-San came again to invite Mei Qing and Hou Shen for a meal. Mei Qing noticed that Shi Mengzhu had not appeared, which surprised him. He also noticed that the servants in the house looked grim, as if something serious had happened. Even A-San, who had been cheerful the day before, now smiled only勉强地.
After the meal, Shi Mengzhu still had not appeared. Mei Qing finally asked, “A-San, is Master Shi not at home?”
A-San forced a smile and replied, “Master Mei, something happened in the village last night, and early this morning, the master went to deal with it.”
“Oh?” Mei Qing asked, surprised. “What happened?”
A-San hesitated, clearly reluctant to speak. Under Mei Qing’s steady gaze, he finally whispered, “The bride from yesterday’s wedding, Sweetie, is dead.”
Sweetie was dead.
When Mei Qing and Hou Shen arrived at the newlyweds’ home, Sweetie’s body had already been placed on a wooden board in the hall. A white cloth covered her, and beneath it, her bright red wedding dress still glowed vividly. The large red “Xi” character pasted on the wall shone glaringly, almost blinding Mei Qing.
Looking at the stiff body under the white cloth, Mei Qing felt a heavy weight pressing on his chest, making it hard to breathe. Was this the same girl who, just two days ago, had been singing a clear fishing song, laughing and scolding playfully, so full of life and innocence, standing proudly at the bow of the boat?
Shi Mengzhu, who had arrived earlier, came over to greet them as soon as he saw them. His long eyes, however, betrayed deep sorrow and anger.
Mei Qing and Shi Mengzhu exchanged a glance, and both instinctively sighed deeply.
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