SES Chapter 203 Part 1

Chapter 203

They couldn’t make it to Fog Town that day, so they stopped overnight in a random city. When they set out again the next morning, Cao Yanhua somehow produced a flip-style countdown card and hung it inside the vehicle. The number was turned to “19,” swaying back and forth as the car moved, sometimes facing one person, sometimes another.

Wan San found it irritating and reached out to rip it down and toss it away, but Luo Ren stopped him.
“Leave it. A little pressure gives people motivation.”

So it stayed.

By late afternoon, close to evening, the car slowly drove into the town.

The setting sun slanted across the place, bathing it in a quiet, gentle calm. The surrounding mountains looked languid and relaxed, giving off an approachable, harmless air. As the tires rolled over the bluestone road, loose slabs rattled faintly beneath the wheels.

There were few people around, but chickens and ducks wandered about in twos and threes, practically serving as natural traffic lights. Every time Cao Yanhua saw them, his heart jumped as he braked nervously—the Hummer crawling into town at a turtle’s pace.

Yan Hongsha and Wan San were both there for the first time, and everything felt new. Yan Hongsha rolled down the window to look at the scenery outside, feeling a rare sense of ease and comfort. Lijiang had been relaxing too, but it was crowded with tourists and inevitably noisy.

She said, “Mu Dai, when we’re old, let’s retire here.”

Mu Dai smiled. “Sure. I even own property here. You can all come live with me.”

She called Zheng Mingshan.

His response was brief and to the point.
“The front gate key is on top of the gatehouse, under the upturned claw of the roof ornament. Go get it yourself. I’ve set up a simple memorial hall in Master’s room—her ashes and spirit tablet are there. You know the rites; make up for the vigil yourselves. Also, Master wasn’t buried in Fog Town. She told me while she was alive that after death, she wanted to be buried back in Baoding. I’m in Baoding now.”

After hanging up, Mu Dai felt a deep wave of melancholy and suddenly remembered something Plum Blossom Ninth Lady had once said.

—She wanted to drink the Shaodao liquor from that distillery at the crossroads in Baoding City back in the day. The owner was from Liaodong and brewed incredibly strong liquor. The first sip was like a line of fire, burning straight from the throat down to the stomach.

Mu Dai said to Luo Ren, “My master must have been an extraordinary person back then. It’s just a pity…”

It was a pity that by the time Plum Blossom Ninth Lady took her in as a disciple, she had already withdrawn from the martial world—and even from ordinary life. Mu Dai’s strongest memory of her was how she would pin an exquisitely carved plum-blossom silver hairpin into her neatly arranged bun.

What she had done in her early years, whom she had loved, what kind of fierce liquor she had drunk, and why she had ended her life alone in Fog Town—she never spoke of any of it.

Luo Ren was about to say something when the car jolted slightly and came to a stop.

They had arrived.

He looked at the tightly shut gates of the residence. The first time he had come, it had been at night. Plum Blossom Ninth Lady had still been alive, and Zheng Mingshan had been hunched over a large sea bowl, eating, with a bottle of white liquor set by his feet.

It had only been a few days, yet everything had changed. Life was so long—how could things not become different?

When they opened the gate and went inside, Mu Dai felt like she had become a different person.

Not long ago, when her master had passed down her legacy to her, she hadn’t felt much at all. But now her master was gone, her senior brother was absent, and she was the sole owner of the residence.

She arranged for Luo Ren and the others to stay in the front courtyard, explaining everything clearly and efficiently, then took Cao Yanhua to the back courtyard.

After settling in, Luo Ren and the others went to take a look. Cao Yanhua was busy hanging black drapes over the moon gate. When he saw them, he said apologetically, “Sorry, it’s not finished yet. It’s not convenient to go in right now.”

Zheng Mingshan had done half the setup himself and left the rest for Mu Dai and Cao Yanhua. His way of doing things was always unconventional, yet somehow reasonable upon reflection.

Mu Dai was dressed in white training clothes, a white silk sash tied around her waist, and black mourning bands around her arms. She was kneeling beside a small brazier in the center of the courtyard, trying to start a fire. It wasn’t going smoothly at first—she coughed repeatedly from the smoke—but she wiped her face, puffed out her cheeks, and kept blowing steadily.

Watching her made Luo Ren uncomfortable, but he knew it wouldn’t be appropriate to help. Yan Hongsha tugged on his sleeve and whispered, “What’s Mu Dai doing?”

“Offering disciples’ tea.”

It was tradition.

—When a disciple returns after being away and meets the master, what should be the first thing done?

—Offer disciples’ tea.

They stood quietly outside the moon gate, no one speaking loudly, as if afraid to disturb Plum Blossom Ninth Lady’s lingering, silent spirit. Cao Jiefang had been strolling in the front courtyard, stopping by the waterside pavilion to watch the fish. Seeing everyone gathered here, it slowly wandered over.

Just as its little claw was about to step over the moon gate, Wan San shot it a glare and stomped his foot. Startled, it quickly pulled back.

Soon, the water on the brazier came to a rolling boil. Mu Dai wrapped the teapot handle with a cloth, poured the boiling water into a lidded teacup, covered it, placed it on a saucer, and carried it with both hands. She walked to the main room, knelt on a yellow silk cushion laid out beforehand, lowered her head slightly, raised the teacup to her brow, straightened her back, and held perfectly still.

In a clear, loud voice, she said, “Master, please drink tea.”

Everyone at the moon gate heard it clearly.

After a few seconds, Cao Yanhua stepped forward, took the tea tray, and set it aside. Mu Dai then bowed fully, her palms overlapped and pressed to the ground, her forehead resting on her hands, unmoving.

In the past, she had often been a bit lazy with these rituals, sometimes even acting spoiled with Plum Blossom Ninth Lady, who indulged her and let small shortcuts slide.

Now that her master was gone, she performed everything with the utmost reverence and precision—yet her master could no longer see it.

Her eyes burned with heat, her shoulders trembling uncontrollably. Cao Yanhua kept waving his hand toward the others, signaling, Don’t watch. Go back. Come again tonight.

By custom, Mu Dai was supposed to keep vigil from sunset until sunrise. But given the tight schedule, she would keep watch alone until midnight, then join Luo Ren and the others to head for the Four Archways.

During this time, Luo Ren prepared to enter the mountains. Roughly speaking, if they went in tonight, they wouldn’t be out until the following night—one full day and night inside. Food and shelter all had to be arranged.

He packed several backpacks with supplies, including food, blankets, and tents. Yan Hongsha, the charlatan, and Wan San took compasses, directional spray paint, and Cao Jiefang to scout the surrounding mountains. They didn’t believe in bad luck and figured that with experience and numbers, they could push deeper in.

Luo Ren let them run into walls on their own. After dark, he cooked some noodles and ate. Mu Dai and Cao Yanhua were fasting while keeping vigil, so he didn’t prepare food for them.

A little after eight, the scouting group returned, dusty and disheveled, lined up in a neat row—Cao Jiefang proudly leading the way, chest out.

As expected, they’d gotten turned around. The compass malfunctioned. Wan San complained that it was like being trapped in a ghost wall—clearly marking the path with spray paint, only to walk for a while and suddenly run into the same mark again. They’d gone in circles.

Yan Hongsha had it worse. One foot had sunk straight into a muddy pit up to her knee. If not for Cao Jiefang’s uncanny sense of direction, they might still be wandering around in there.

Luo Ren tossed them a few packets of instant noodles. “I warned you.”

Since there would be no signal once they entered the mountains, Luo Ren took advantage of their cooking time to search online for information about “archways.”

It was mostly the same information they already knew.

—Archways first appeared during the Zhou Dynasty, originally used as commemorative structures honoring chastity and filial piety, commonly found in gardens, temples, palaces, tombs, and along streets.

Mu Dai had already described the structure of the “Four Archways.” From the sound of it, the archway was meant to safeguard that box. But why use an archway? If you wanted to hide a box, wouldn’t it be enough to dig a concealed pit and bury it? Why go to such lengths?

To conserve strength, everyone lay down fully clothed to nap after eating. Shortly after midnight, Cao Yanhua came to knock on the door.
“Brother Luo, it’s time.”

He was also dressed in mourning clothes, and perhaps because he was newly initiated, he wore a rather comical mourning cap on his head.

Plum Blossom Ninth Lady’s room was draped in white. Aside from the canopy bed, all the furnishings had been rearranged to accommodate the memorial hall.

The lights were off, replaced by large white candles, their flames thick as fists, casting flickering shadows across the room.