Chapter 203: The Next One Is Chen Shun’an
The east was turning fish-belly white.
Mo Long A Tai handed the newly caught Tiao Bao Fish to the fish market boss as usual.
“A Tai, I heard you’ve been feeling a bit unwell lately. I know Divine Doctor Li from Jindu Great Pharmacy, Golden Needle Li. Do you want to go see him?” The fish market boss looked at Mo Long A Tai with slight concern.
Now A Tai was the hot commodity in all the fish markets, a living money tree. The fish market boss didn’t want to see Mo Long A Tai have any accidents.
A Tai was not old, not yet thirty, with two older brothers above him, neither yet married, and two younger sisters below, neither married off.
He was the third oldest.
His original name was just A Tai, no formal given name.
Later, after he “made it big,” with fishing skill like a god, catching every time without fail, he added “Mo Long” in front of his name himself.
He said he had accidentally touched a slippery flood dragon, and thus gained this miraculous ability.
Others originally didn’t believe it.
But seeing him catch precious fish every time he fished or cast nets.
They came to believe it.
His family was not well-off. His father was just a third-rate martial artist. After struggling half his life, he only had a tile roof over his head in the county, and ended up with a body full of injuries, living day to day on medicine.
A few years ago, the whole family pooled everything—money from those who had it, labor from those who could—to get A Tai connections and secure a water carrier position.
Fortunately, life was better now.
A Tai took the silver from selling the fish, then subconsciously rubbed the outside of his thigh with the back of his hand, and said,
“It’s just a bit of a cold. I’m almost better.”
“That’s good.” The fish market boss breathed a subtle sigh of relief and cautioned, “If you’re really unwell, you can’t hide it from doctors or avoid treatment.”
A Tai smiled, turned to leave, hesitated, rented a fast horse from the horse rental shop, and after returning to Wuqing County, bought some japonica rice and lean meat before going home.
His father saw A Tai and sighed,
“The weather’s cold. Your mother and sisters’ woven flower curtains aren’t selling. We’ve been relying entirely on you to subsidize the family these days.”
As he spoke, his father coughed twice, picked up a bowl of decoction that had been boiled until almost no medicinal taste remained, and drank it down.
Finally, he licked the rim of the bowl with his tongue, cleaning every inch before it counted.
Weaving flower curtains meant using reeds or bamboo, or even hemp rope, to make something like hanging curtains—a traditional marketplace craft. Homes with potted flowers or pigeons could use them.
But this year heaven was cruel. By the eleventh month it was already bitterly cold, with ice forming on the streets.
Naturally, no one could keep flowers or pigeons anymore.
So there was no need for these flower curtains.
Nearby, his mother and two sisters sat around the tattered Eight-Immortal Table, threading needles to mend clothing, heads all bowed.
His mother said softly, “A Tai, don’t worry. We mother and daughters will find work too. These clothes are from the temple masters. Mending them earns a string of copper coins!”
At this, his mother looked up, her eyes nearly blinded by oil lamp smoke, and said to A Tai,
“By the way, your second brother wrote saying the martial arts school’s tuition fee and secret medicine money for next year are due… 10 taels of silver. Do you have it?”
After the whole family supported A Tai into the water station trade.
His eldest brother followed traveling merchants hauling goods, rarely coming home once a year, but sent money every few months.
His second brother had decent martial arts aptitude. With effort and enough resources, he had hope of reaching second-rate martial artist. Now he was training at a martial arts school.
Full-time martial arts practice naturally required a lot of money.
But now it was time for A Tai to give back to the family.
He had no complaints.
His other siblings and parents were also working hard to share the burden for him.
“Yes, yes. I’ve caught a precious fish every day these past few days. It’s all here.”
A Tai pulled out a handful of broken silver and placed it on the table.
Then he subconsciously scratched the outside of his thigh with the back of his hand.
His father sighed and said, “I’ll deliver the silver to the martial arts school. A Tai, you just keep doing what you do.”
Seeing the relieved expressions on his parents’ faces, A Tai couldn’t help but smile.
He was Mo Long A Tai now!
As usual, he headed to Banye Ferry Crossing, carrying his fishing rod to fish everywhere, occasionally exchanging insights on understanding the language of all beasts with Xiao Changping and others.
Of course, he rarely spoke; it was mostly Xiao Changping and the others talking.
He still somewhat avoided facing Chen Shun’an, always dodging ahead of time.
The shopkeeper’s authority gave him the feeling of facing the teacher back in private school.
But his scratching at the outside of his thigh became more frequent.
“What? Eldest Brother encountered bandits, was captured up the mountain, and they want one hundred taels of silver for ransom?!”
As soon as he got home and heard this news, A Tai was stunned.
His father had bloodshot eyes, holding a bloodstained letter and a finger.
The finger had heavy calluses, patterns worn away.
A Tai recognized at a glance that the owner of this finger was his eldest brother.
“I’ll gather the money.”
A Tai said solemnly.
The room’s atmosphere was gloomy, heavy with worry; the whole family hung their heads.
His father suddenly said,
“No, we can’t put this all on A Tai. Here’s the plan: A Tai, you gather money first. I’ll go find brothers I know on the streets, see if we can bribe officials to get him out first!”
With that, his father rushed out the door.
A Tai, as usual, hurried to Banye Ferry Crossing to fish.
“Are you Mo Long A Tai?”
But unlike usual.
Just as he reached north of Banye Ferry Crossing, at the frozen canal in the mountain shade, a calm voice suddenly sounded in his ear.
He set down the chisel for breaking the ice, turned back in confusion, and saw a stunning woman in Daoist robes, holding a whisk, approaching.
Her eyes were icy cold, as if she ate no five grains of the human world.
Sensing the otherworldly aura on this woman, Mo Long A Tai replied timidly,
“I wonder what business this Daoist nun has?”
“Are you Mo Long A Tai?” the Daoist nun asked again.
“It is I.”
No sooner had he spoken than the woman before Mo Long A Tai grinned. Clearly her eyes and brows held endless allure, yet it gave Mo Long A Tai a suffocating pressure like a sea of blood and corpses, more like being wrapped in soil, breathless darkness, instantly occupying his entire mind.
“Then I haven’t got the wrong one. Let me see if it’s you…”
Tian Xuan Saint just lightly swept the whisk in her hand, and Mo Long A Tai felt something leaving his body.
“So it’s Mei Mountain sorcery using human flesh as bait to lure fish—Mei Mountain return fish to water, a minor left-path trick… The look of a short life. Then it’s not you.”
Tian Xuan Saint was somewhat disappointed, slowly walked past him, and didn’t glance at him again.
In Mei Mountain lands, witchcraft techniques had deep roots, with much Nuo Opera, various witch doctors and bone women hiding in wild villages, inciting locals, forming gangs of different scales—gangsters.
Even after long suppression by the Sacred Dynasty, even with His Majesty the Emperor personally leading troops, they weren’t fully eradicated.
They were even turned into stories by tale-spinners, compiled into “His Majesty the Emperor’s Nine Complete Martial Arts Battle to Suppress Mei Mountain Witch Doctors,” on par with the battle to suppress Shu Mountain evil swords.
Among them, Mei Mountain sorcery was especially famous, and Mei Mountain return fish to water was one of its essences.
Total water method secrets, various true invocation spells, harmony water, five thunder water, five demons water, snow mountain water, pain-transferring water, retribution profound secret, birth-urging water, nine dragon bone-melting water, return fish water…
All kinds of water methods, encompassing everything.
Return fish water was one of them.
Created specially for fishing and hunting. If suffering empty hauls or poor catches in ice and snow, one could cut a chunk of flesh from one’s body, cast a secret spell, throw it into the river, and in no time big fish or precious fish would throw themselves into the net, hooking themselves.
But this method was a left-path deviation, shortening life, harming wealth, ruining blessings—not only hard to sustain long-term, but also bringing fatal disaster.
Snowflakes wrapped in cold wind scoured the wilderness white.
Splash…
Broken ice suddenly splashed from the ice hole, a half-man-long big fish leaped out of the water, its plump silver scales flashing in the sparse sunlight, mouth opening and closing.
Another fish caught.
“Then the next one…” Tian Xuan Saint pondered, then said faintly,
“is Chen Shun’an, right.”
With that, her figure melted into the wind and snow, vanishing in an instant, leaving only shallow footprints on the ice, soon covered by new snow.
Meanwhile, Mo Long A Tai fell flat on his back on the frozen river, his eyes gradually losing luster.
A patch of dark purple bloodstain spread under his blue cotton pants.
If the cotton pants were cut open, one would see large chunks of flesh missing from both thighs—missing here, gone there, some places even exposing bones.
In the corner of Mo Long A Tai’s eye, that big fish was still struggling, gleaming like a silver ingot.
He too, like that big fish, opened his mouth wide to gasp, as if trying to seize as much fresh air as possible from outside, then force it down his throat, driving the remaining nutrients in his body to make his heart beat.
But soon, he shut his mouth.
The big fish stopped breathing too.
Because he was dead.
…
Snow wrapped the wilderness, wind cut like knives, flying snowflakes kneading heaven and earth into chaotic white.
A dark figure with a neck yoke raced across the wilderness, so fast it left only a barely visible shallow mark in the snow.
Moments later.
Red Fifth Master appeared before A Tai’s corpse.
He silently sensed the lingering aura in the air, looked at the corpse nearly frozen into an ice sculpture at his feet, furrowed his brows, face dark as if dripping water.
“One step too late!”
He hesitated, then channeled strength to shatter the yoke, hanging it at his waist.
Only then did he pick up the big fish, hoist the corpse, and head toward Jindu.
Passing through the dense forest depths, the corner of his eye swept over an unremarkable pine tree.
The pine tree was silver-clad in frost, ice shells on its branches gleaming coldly.
There was an inconspicuous special mark on the trunk, like a tea bowl.
Lid lifted, placed to the right of the tea bowl, inside the bowl stones used as tea, nailed to the tree trunk.
Densely packed, seemingly profound.
This was the Guo Lu Society’s internal special message, called “nail board message.”
If written on wood chips and floated downstream to pass info, it was called “water telegraph.” If using birds or pigeons, “flying sky message.”
From Old Xiao and Bai Manlou?
Red Fifth Master’s face unchanged, he just glanced and memorized the nail board message, then translated its general meaning,
“Important matter to discuss, and an old acquaintance visiting?”
