SES Chapter 199 Part 1

Chapter 199

Yan Hongsha recalled what she had blurted out when she first saw the second water-image.

— This isn’t a house dog, is it? If my family kept a dog like that, we might as well beat it to death.

It had seemed so strange at the time: when the household met with catastrophe, the dog they had raised didn’t rush forward to fight to the death to save its masters. Instead, it sat there as steady as a mountain, calm and unruffled.

Now she finally understood.
What if that fire had been set by the dog itself?

Yan Hongsha shivered violently.

Luo Ren paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “Before you arrived, Mu Dai and I talked about this. You can’t judge a literate dog by ordinary human standards. The story in Zi Bu Yu mentions it too—the magistrate asked the singing dog whether it was a man or a dog, and it answered that it didn’t know either.”

Yan Hongsha said quietly, “If it really was only three years old… if it didn’t understand anything yet, how could you expect it to have a normal worldview?”

If it were just a simple animal, that would be one thing. You feed it, and it serves its master loyally. But this wasn’t that. It had a human heart, yet didn’t understand human nature. Betrayal, ingratitude, biting the hand that feeds it, and inviting wolves into the house—none of those concepts carried any real meaning for it. It harbored twisted desires toward that young woman, desires it had no way to resolve. So it followed beastly rules of violence to settle everything—yet absurdly and ironically, it chose to use fire.

Many history books note that the discovery and use of fire was humanity’s greatest achievement of the Paleolithic Age. From then on, humans descended from the trees, stepped onto the ground, and largely cast off their animal nature.

Perhaps the historians were too optimistic.

In the silence, Cao Yanhua looked from one person to another. “S-so… what happens next?”

The water-images were shown in reverse order. The very first image was actually the ending of the entire story.

Cao Yanhua clearly remembered that scene: a dog, and beside it, a deadly slip sealed with a Phoenix–Luan clasp.

“Does that mean the last deadly slip was on that dog?”

Luo Ren slowly shook his head. “From a timeline perspective, more than a hundred years have passed. Whether man or dog, it’s probably long dead. What I’m more inclined to believe is this…”

He paused thoughtfully. “We’ve guessed before that after Laozi sealed them, the seven deadly slips were opened again and again over time. So I think the most recent opening of the Phoenix–Luan clasp was done by that literate dog. Do you remember Yin Xi asking Laozi what would happen if one day the Phoenix–Luan clasp was opened again?”

They remembered.

According to the legend, Laozi laughed heartily, flicked his horsetail whisk, mounted his green ox, and rode away, saying, Don’t worry. In this world, there is no person who can open the Phoenix–Luan clasp.

Luo Ren’s voice was very low. “Now, looking back at that line, it feels like there’s more to it.”

What exactly did Laozi mean by “person”?

Did he mean someone with a human heart and human nature, someone possessing the most basic moral standards to truly be called human?
Or did merely having a human body suffice?

By those standards, the literate dog fit none of them.

It was neither human nor dog—born human, yet living as a dog. It had a human heart housed in a beast’s form, endured inhuman suffering, and then went on to commit horrifying crimes.

— In this world, no person can open the Phoenix–Luan clasp.

The literate dog was precisely that unforeseen, perfectly fitting key.

The six water-images—from the faint, eerie shimmer in the basin of the Xiao Shang River at the very beginning, to the crystal-clear, immersive experience in Cao Family Village—had been telling this story all along.

At last, the long-standing mystery was laid bare. Cao Yanhua felt relieved, yet also oddly underwhelmed. After thinking about it, he muttered, “I thought it was going to point us to where the next deadly slip is.”

He grumbled, “Still no real lead.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Luo Ren said. “I think it may have pointed us to something else.”

He deliberately paused. Wan San’s heart leapt, and he blurted out an “Ah!” The fortune-teller was the second to catch on, his face flushing with excitement. Yan Hongsha was completely lost and urged Luo Ren impatiently, “What is it? Just say it!”

Only Cao Yanhua felt a sour twist in his chest. Damn it—Third Brother figured it out first again.

Luo Ren answered, “The Phoenix–Luan clasp.”

“All along, we’ve been focused on finding the seven deadly slips. But we overlooked something: the seven slips must be sealed with the Phoenix–Luan clasp. Even if we gather all seven, we still need to find those three items—the Phoenix clasp, the Luan clasp, and the Phoenix–Luan clasp.”

“The literate dog lived in that town—that was the last place it appeared. After the fire, it opened the Phoenix–Luan clasp. So let’s make a bold assumption: the place where the seven deadly slips were discovered isn’t far from that town.”

“The Phoenix–Luan clasp is essentially a lock. Thieves pry open a door and take the treasure, but no one bothers to carry off the lock itself…”

The fortune-teller grew excited. “You mean the Phoenix–Luan clasp is probably still there?”

Luo Ren smiled faintly. “Didn’t you say we carry the power of the Phoenix–Luan clasp with us? The deadly slips can attach themselves to people and roam freely. If the Phoenix–Luan clasp could do the same, it should have come looking for us long ago. Since it’s never appeared, there’s an eighty-percent chance it’s still where it was—or at least not far away.”

Cao Yanhua suddenly remembered something. “Wait—I recall a line from that acrobatics water-image. Someone said, ‘Let Old Master Wei from the private school in Long Town write it.’ That line carries a ton of information.”

Yan Hongsha caught on as well. “That town was called Long Town. The girl’s surname was Wei, and her father was a private tutor. We can trace even the ancestors of Wan Fenghuo and Lie Bao—if we get a bit more information, we might be able to uncover the details from back then.”

Before she even finished speaking, Wan San had already pulled out his phone to search for “Long Town.”

After a while, he shook his head. “Nothing. There’s no town by that name.”

Luo Ren wasn’t worried. “A lot of towns were renamed after the founding of the PRC. Once Qingmu gets back, I’ll talk to him and try to get discharged today. The water-images you saw weren’t complete—I think if I join in, we might uncover more clues.”

After a moment’s thought, he added, “Because of my injury, we’ve already lost a lot of time. I’m worried we’ll miss the ‘seven-seven’ deadline. When you head back later, pack your bags as well. We should make a trip to Fog Town as soon as possible.”

Most of the breakfast went untouched. No one had any appetite, but it would be a waste to throw it out. Yan Hongsha packed everything up portion by portion, leaving some for Luo Ren and taking the rest back as-is. As she headed out, she called to Mu Dai, “Coming back with us?”

Mu Dai wasn’t in the mood. “I’ll sit a bit longer.”

Suddenly, everyone was gone. The hospital room felt empty. Mu Dai sat quietly for a while, then looked up at Luo Ren.

From last night until now, she’d felt dazed. Even while speaking normally, she would involuntarily shiver.

She looked at Luo Ren again.

“Come here,” he said.

She stood up and went to him, slowly leaning into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face deep in his chest. He smelled of freshly laundered sheets, soda water, and that familiar scent of Luo Xiaodao.

Luo Ren stroked her hair and said softly, “I used to hate Lie Bao. After Tasha’s accident, after what happened to Yuris and the others, I wanted her dead. But strangely enough… all of a sudden, I actually feel a bit grateful to her.”

Mu Dai smiled faintly. “Me too.”

— Come, choose one.
— What does it represent?
— Your fate.
— I have a more novel and interesting method—just a bit cruel.

…

Mu Dai shut her eyes tightly.

She didn’t want to think about what the other “option” had been. Yet waves of cold crept uncontrollably up her back. Sometimes she felt she was strong enough—but at other times she realized that every kind of strength has a fatal weak point, something that shatters it with a single touch.

If she no longer even had a human form, could she go on living?

If Lie Bao had dragged her before Luo Ren again to display her… then Luo Ren would be finished too.

How strange—to suddenly feel gratitude toward a monstrously evil person, simply because she had shown mercy.