After finishing the knot, Xin Shensi counted out five copper coins: “Shopkeeper, where can I buy a water bladder nearby?”
“A water bladder?” The old man’s tone held a hint of surprise: “We have them right here,” he hurriedly asked his wife to fetch one, “my son brought them back from the north, and there are only two left.”
Xin Shensi smiled: “That’s great, it saves me a lot of trouble.”
When the water bladder was brought, the old man didn’t rush to name a price: “Miss, feel it first. This is made from high-quality cowhide, and the craftsmanship is exquisite.”
The water bladder was quite large. Xin Shensi took it and examined it carefully. Because it was new, it felt a bit stiff. She brought it close and sniffed—there was no odor.
“How much?”
The old man hesitated for a moment, then raised three fingers: “Three hundred coppers, can’t go any lower.”
That really wasn’t cheap. Xin Shensi sniffed the water bladder again and said in a flat tone: “Two hundred and fifty coppers, and I’ll take it.”
“Miss, if you go around and ask, this water bladder was brought from the north.” The old woman beside him couldn’t help but interject: “Selling it to you for three hundred coppers, our family hardly makes any profit.”
Xin Shensi glanced up at the hesitant old man and handed the water bladder back: “At most two hundred and sixty coppers. I don’t absolutely need it. If I come across bamboo groves on the road, I can cut a couple of bamboo stalks and make some bamboo tubes—they’ll work just as well.”
The old man didn’t take it back. Gritting his teeth, he said: “Two hundred and sixty coppers it is, then. Miss, you definitely won’t lose out. My son’s has been used for years without leaking a single drop. How can bamboo tubes compare to this?”
After paying, Xin Shensi asked the shopkeeper to fetch her a bucket of water. She carefully washed the water bladder twice, shook it dry, then wrapped it in cloth to absorb the moisture before filling it with water and placing it upright against the side of her bamboo basket. Leaving the tea stall, she continued walking along the roadside as she had in the morning.
Along the way, she remained constantly aware of her own body. Strangely enough, aside from the stabbing pain in the morning, she didn’t experience a second episode until dusk approached. This made her wonder: Could the stabbing pain in the back of her head not be a sign of Qi Deviation?
Xin Shensi didn’t dare let her guard down and chose not to enter any towns at night. She was genuinely afraid of having an episode in a crowded place.
A dilapidated tile-roofed house by the roadside looked decent enough. She circled it once, casually gathered some firewood, and approached the entrance. The plaque that had fallen to the ground had long been eroded by time. She lowered her head and stared intently for a while but could only make out the character “Zhuang” (Manor).
Using the firewood, she carefully pushed open the half-closed, rotting wooden door. The creak sounded particularly eerie in the evening. Seeing traces of ash on the ground, Xin Shensi breathed a sigh of relief. It was good that someone had rested here before. An abandoned wilderness hut that had never been used would be more unsettling.
Entering the house, she first built a fire. With the light of the flames, she felt more at ease. Using a broom with only a few bristles left, she swept the floor, brushing the dust and broken tiles toward the edge of the fire. Tonight, she didn’t plan to cook porridge. Instead, she took out some steamed buns, toasted them over the fire, and ate them with dried bamboo shoots.
There wasn’t much water left in the water bladder. She would need to find a place to refill it first thing tomorrow.
Just as she finished two steamed buns, Xin Shensi’s right ear twitched slightly. Her eyelashes lowered as she faintly heard the sound of hoofbeats approaching. She wasn’t surprised that she could hear distant movements. Brushing the crumbs from her hands, she picked up a broken tile, placed it beside her, and smashed it with some force. Afterward, she drank two sips of water, took out her sewing kit, and began weaving knots again.
This was her current livelihood.
With a “whoa,” three fine horses came to a halt. The one in front was very young, with a pair of willow-leaf eyebrows that gave him a somewhat feminine appearance. However, the Adam’s apple in his throat indicated he was male.
“Leader, there’s someone.” The middle-aged man with a goatee, half a horse length behind, frowned as he looked toward the brightly lit tile-roofed house.
The man with willow-leaf eyebrows smiled in his eyes. “We’ll rest here tonight.”
The bearded man trailing at the back had no objections. Their leader naturally loved to join in on the excitement. He tugged the reins, turned his horse around, and followed.
Inside the house, Xin Siansi sat cross-legged, earnestly weaving a decorative knot. Perhaps she had long anticipated such a scenario, as she felt quite calm at the moment. Respectable people in the martial world valued righteousness; as long as she didn’t provoke trouble, she likely wouldn’t be bothered.
Of course, when dealing with unscrupulous individuals, she could only defend herself with all her might. Life had to go on—how? By striving to live it.
The dilapidated wooden door stood wide open. As the horses approached, the three men could see inside. Spotting a young woman sitting by the fire weaving something, they simultaneously frowned and heightened their vigilance. When traveling the martial world, what were the three things one feared most?
First, the elderly; second, young children; third, women.
The three dismounted, and the bearded man led the horses to the west side of the house. The willow-leaf-browed man, followed by the goateed one, stepped inside quietly. After confirming there were no others around, he raised his hands in a respectful salute. “Apologies for the intrusion.”
Xin Siansi glanced up at the newcomers, her hands never slowing their work. She remained silent, continuing with her task. Willow-leaf eyebrows, a man with feminine features—all he needed was someone to call him “Leader”…
“Leader, the horses are tied up.” The bearded man returned carrying three bundles.
“Tied up is tied up—why shout about it?” The willow-leaf-browed man scolded while glancing toward the fire. “You’re disturbing her.”
Xin Siansi’s expression remained unchanged, but inwardly she was lamenting. Fang Shengli, leader of the Santong Sect, had feminine features and walked the line between righteousness and villainy. His Thin Cloud Sword was as soft as silk yet never stained with blood. This man had a flaw: an insatiable curiosity. When traveling, he usually brought only two companions: the goateed strategist Shi Tong and the bearded man Da Yu.
It all matched up. She felt like singing, “I want to cry… but I can’t.” Crying would only pique Fang Shengli’s curiosity.
Shi Tong stood inside the house for a while, realizing the woman had no intention of acknowledging them. Feeling awkward, he said, “I’ll go gather some firewood.”
Fang Shengli shamelessly crouched by the fire, spreading his hands to warm them. Da Yu, seeing him like this, couldn’t help but rub his arms—it wasn’t exactly the dead of winter, was it?
Xin Siansi ignored him, pretending not to notice. Fang Shengli glanced sideways and saw seventeen broken tile fragments beside her. His curiosity was tickled like a cat’s scratch as he scrutinized the woman’s clothing, hoping to discern her origins. Unfortunately, he found nothing.
Shi Tong returned with firewood and reported, “Leader, not far from the funeral parlor, there’s an old well with a lid on it. I checked—the water is very clean.”
Funeral parlor? Was it the kind she was thinking of? Xin Siansi couldn’t help but admire her own luck, struggling to maintain her calm expression. Could the ashes from earlier have been left behind by someone burning paper money? Did that mean she had set her firewood over the ashes of paper offerings? Was that disrespectful?
Amitabha, this humble woman meant no offense. Please forgive me this once. Next time I pass by, I’ll definitely buy incense to apologize properly.
Da Yu followed Shi Tong outside. Inside the funeral parlor, only the crackling of sparks remained. Fang Shengli still crouched by the fire, his gaze fixed on the two hands weaving plum blossoms.
Xin Siansi resolved to remain unchanged in the face of uncertainty. Before Shi Tong and Da Yu returned, a burst of loud laughter suddenly echoed from outside. Fang Shengli didn’t move, and she was determined to sit even steadier.
In just a few breaths, a fat-faced, big-bellied monk with nine incense scars on his head barged in, embracing a young woman in red gauze. Recognizing the figure with his back turned at a glance, he looked at the girl braiding cords and laughed lewdly, “Hahaha… Sect Leader Fang is having a secret rendezvous with a beauty here.” He raised his right hand to his chest in a gesture of respect. “This humble monk apologizes for the intrusion.”
Fang Shengli stopped warming himself by the fire. Still squatting, he propped his chin on one hand, his gaze unwavering. “Hua Chi, are you planning to stay here tonight?”
Upon hearing “Hua Chi” and “this humble monk,” Xin Shensi immediately knew who it was. This monk had grown up at Shaolin but fell for a woman in red during his first trip down the mountain. He lost his virginity to her and was forced into intimacy for several days. Perhaps the experience was too… too indescribably wonderful, for ever since then, he couldn’t control his desires. He repeatedly broke the precept of celibacy and developed a preference for dressing the women he seduced in red clothing.
Shaolin punished him several times, but to no avail, and eventually expelled him. After being cast out, the monk showed no remorse. He abandoned his original Dharma name and gave himself the moniker “Hua Chi.”
“The humble abode may be shabby, but it is quiet. If Sect Leader Fang can stay here, how dare this humble monk complain?” Monk Hua Chi, with his left hand gripping the woman’s slender waist, moved to sit by the wall. The red-gauzed woman in his arms wore exquisite makeup, with a blooming red plum blossom painted between her eyebrows. A smile graced her lips as she tilted her head slightly, gazing at him with tender affection.
Fang Shengli glanced at the girl who showed no reaction, curled his lips, and stood up.
Monk Hua Chi, with rough fingers, lifted the red-gauzed woman’s delicate chin. “Tonight, you’ll have to endure some hardship.”
“Hong Yan doesn’t mind…” the red-gauzed woman replied seductively in a coquettish tone. “As long as I can be with the Buddha Master, no matter where we are, Hong Yan finds it sweet.”
Xin Shensi felt goosebumps rise. Was this true love?
“Look at how flirtatious you are, haha…” Monk Hua Chi laughed heartily, lowering his head to plant two forceful kisses on her lips. “The Buddha Master loves your spirit,” he said, then lay down with the woman, rolling over to cover her.
Fang Shengli stepped forward, placed his hands on his hips, and leisurely walked over to the pair. With keen interest and bright eyes, he watched them intently.
Monk Hua Chi tugged off his kasaya. “Please, Sect Leader Fang, give us some privacy.”
“No…” Fang Shengli didn’t even blink. “Actually, I’ve been curious for a long time. You’re neither wealthy, nor do you have hair or good looks. How is it that the women you’ve ruined remain so infatuated with you? It makes no sense. After much thought, the only possible explanation is that your skills in the art of union are extraordinary. With such a rare opportunity, how could I not observe closely?”
Go on, Xin Shensi cheered inwardly. Monk Hua Chi, don’t be shy—stand your ground against him. Her excitement grew so intense that her hands moved even faster as she braided cords.
Da Yu and Shi Tong returned with blood-dripping rabbits, both astonished by her fingers moving so swiftly they seemed like shadows. If she were a swordswoman, she could conjure over a dozen sword blossoms in the blink of an eye.
Monk Hua Chi didn’t get to fulfill Fang Shengli’s wish, as another group of people arrived just then.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the Tan Zhong River Seven Scoundrels.” Da Yu grinned upon spotting the narrow-eyed, thin-faced man. “Fei Dashan, why are you still skin and bones? Didn’t Bai Cao Tang cure your diarrhea?”
What a coincidence, Xin Shensi thought, glancing at the seven newcomers. They had just met at the tea shed at noon.
Fei Dashan and the others were also surprised to see the girl braiding cords behind the fire. They bowed respectfully to Fang Shengli, then retreated to a corner, taking out dry rations to chew.
The funeral parlor was small, and accommodating thirteen people made it somewhat crowded. However, for reasons unknown, all three parties kept their distance from the girl weaving knots. This included Fang Shengli, who did not approach to disturb her again.
Xin Shensi finished weaving the fortune knot and, after a moment of thought, picked up a needle to mend her clothes. For a while, the funeral parlor fell into silence. Outside, the rustling of leaves in the wind was clearly audible.
Once the firewood burned out, Xin Shensi put away her needle and thread and closed her eyes to meditate. At the break of dawn the next day, she opened her eyes. She picked up her bamboo basket, slung it over her back, and, as if oblivious to the others, left the room without a word to search for the old well.
The infatuated monk, who had been holding back all night, finally spoke up: “Master Fang, isn’t she with you?”
Fang Shengli scoffed: “Are you blind?”
Fei Dashan opened his mouth as if to say something but held back. Xin Shensi filled her water pouch, gathered more firewood, and after some thought, returned to the dilapidated house to build a fire and roast mantou. She ate heartily, accompanied by braised bamboo shoots.
“What is your surname, miss?” The infatuated monk sat up, resting one hand on his bent knee.
Xin Shensi glanced toward Fei Dashan’s group: “Yan.”
The hearts of Fei Dashan and his six companions, who had their eyes closed, sank. Their muttered words outside the tea shed the previous day had been overheard.
“Which Yan?” Fang Shengli rolled over, resting his head on his arm and facing the fire.
Xin Shensi did not answer. She finished the mantou in her hand in a few bites, packed away the braised bamboo shoots, shouldered her basket, and began to leave.
Seeing this, the infatuated monk stood up and raised a hand to block her: “This humble monk observes that your forehead…”
Xin Shensi did not stop walking. She secretly gathered strength, pinched a piece of tile debris between her fingers in her right palm, and suddenly struck out. At the same time, Fang Shengli noticed that one of the seventeen tile fragments was missing. He sat up abruptly and turned his head to look, only to see a fingernail-sized shadow pierce through the infatuated monk’s drooping sleeve with a soft thud before disappearing without a trace.
The infatuated monk’s pupils dilated in shock. Xin Shensi walked past him without so much as a glance, though inwardly, her mind was in turmoil. When had her strength increased so dramatically?
Fei Dashan stared at the infatuated monk’s gently swaying sleeve and couldn’t help but swallow hard. His gaze shifted from the hole in the sleeve to the wall. There was a small hole in the wall, almost the same size as the one in the infatuated monk’s sleeve. This… this internal strength! He swallowed again, watching the figure depart, and muttered blankly: “Yan… as in the King of Hell, Yan.”