SES Chapter 40

Chapter 40

That night by the Xiaoshang River, as Yiwansan kept sketching, sweat began to bead on his forehead.

The reason he dared to draw blindly was that artists don’t rely solely on sight; they have an instinctive sense. Each stroke may not be exact, but they more or less know what they’re drawing.

And this image he was sketching, he knew it too well.

His hometown was by the sea, though the water was rarely rough, more like a calm tidal flat. When the ancestral hall was being built, the sound of hammering and chiseling rang out day and night. He was only seven or eight then, wearing tattered pants with a hole worn through the back that exposed his skin, so when he walked, he had to hold them up with his hands.

He didn’t recognize the mythical figures: the immortal pointing the way, the phoenix-riding sage, the suanni beast that could swallow tigers and leopards, or the douniu pressing down the fish to command the clouds and rain. None of them were familiar to him. But when the xing shi figure was being carved, he’d shouted excitedly, “Sun Wukong! It’s the Monkey King!”

He’d ended up disappointed—it wasn’t him. Sun Wukong doesn’t have wings.

The ancestral hall was completed in March, just in time for the Sea God festival. Living off the sea as generations had, the villagers held incense in their hands, bowing again and again. The salty sea breeze blew past, and the “immortal pointing the way” atop the ridgeline looked like a line of lonely, shivering little men.

His eyes fell on the sacrificial offerings: the heads of a cow, pig, and sheep, their necks still bloodstained, eyes wide open in death.

The old clan leader held incense, smoke curling above his head as he murmured the legend: “Pearls form in the wombs of clams that reflect the moonlight.” The wind on his face was thick with salt; even his skin felt coarse, like it was crusted with grains of salt.

Yiwansan had grumbled inwardly: This hellhole. I’m not staying here.

And sure enough, he hadn’t.

Later on, when drifting from place to place, he was often asked where he was from. Depending on the situation, his answers varied—sometimes Beijing or Shanghai, sometimes Shenyang or Changchun.

He never imagined that one day he’d say the words honestly: “Guangxi, Hepu.”

Although technically not even Hepu, but some obscure, isolated village tucked along a hundred-mile stretch of water so unheard of, he figured no one even knew where Hepu was.

To his surprise, Luo Ren nodded. “Leizhou and Lianzhou—the two great pearl pools. They built an ancestral hall there? Your folks fished for pearls?”

Yiwansan nodded, surprised.

Leizhou and Lianzhou were ancient names. Leizhou referred to Haikang in Guangdong, and Lianzhou was present-day Hepu in Guangxi. Both regions were known for their pearls and were once called the two great “pearl pools” of China.

In a land as vast as China, to be known as one of its two brightest pearls was no small thing.

Among them, Hepu was considered the most precious. An old saying goes: “Hepu and Hotan are twenty thousand li apart—pearls shine in the south, jade gleams in the north.”

Meaning Guangxi Hepu and Hotan in Xinjiang were distant opposites—one known for pearls, the other for jade. To be able to stand alongside Hotan jade spoke volumes about the value of Hepu pearls.

Yiwansan pulled a folded piece of paper from his inner pocket and handed it to Luo Ren.

The folds were deep and worn at the edges—it had been carried around for a while. Luo Ren unfolded it. The sketch was of the immortal pointing the way, with various roof beasts scattered around—but notably, the xing shi figure was missing.

“There are rarely ten beasts lined up on a roof’s ridgeline. Even if some places copy that style, it’s never common. And especially missing the last one—the xing shi. So the moment I finished the sketch, I knew where it was.”

Luo Ren stared at him. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

Yiwansan gave a sardonic laugh. “That hellhole.”

Then he shrugged indifferently. “I didn’t want to, so what?”

For reasons of his own, he had withheld the truth. But for Ping Ting’s sake, he gave it up. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late to patch things up.

Luo Ren made a quick decision. “Tell me exactly where the village is. I need to go.”

It was a simple request, but Yiwansan hesitated for a long time. Mu Dai nudged him. “Just tell him. It’s just a place, isn’t it?”

“It’s not that simple, Boss Lady. It’s hard to get in.”

Mu Dai stared him down. “What, they got wolves and tigers guarding the place?”

Yiwansan ignored her, still weighing something in his mind. “How about this, Luo Ren? I’ll go with you. But I have conditions.”

“What kind of conditions?”

“You guarantee my safety. Absolute safety.”

Mu Dai’s heart skipped a beat. Yiwansan didn’t look like he was bluffing. In broad daylight, going back to his hometown—was it really that dangerous?

Yiwansan turned to her. “Boss Lady, this better count as a work trip. Don’t dock my pay.”

Meaning: you guys already pay me peanuts—don’t short me anymore.

Luo Ren nodded. “Time is tight. Go pack your things. Once everything’s in place, we’ll try to leave tomorrow.”

“We”? That we probably didn’t include her. Luo Ren wasn’t planning to bring her? Mu Dai suddenly felt a little hollow, like she was being left out.

After a moment, she said, “Then be careful on the road. I’ll stay and take care of Ping Ting.”

Given Ping Ting’s condition, Uncle Zheng definitely couldn’t handle it. And with Luo Ren gone, it made perfect sense for her to step in.

But Luo Ren looked at her oddly. “I already told you how I’m handling Ping Ting.”

Yiwansan couldn’t help but speak up. “You’re still going to keep her locked up?”

“What else? Can Mu Dai watch her 24/7 without blinking? What if she can’t? What if Ping Ting is even more dangerous than we imagined?”

Luo Ren let out a cold laugh. “Don’t forget—there’s a damn thing living inside her that’s been alive for who knows how many thousand years.”

Yiwansan fell silent.

He couldn’t accept Luo Ren’s decision, but after thinking it through, he couldn’t come up with a better plan either.

So this was it. One day at a time. He rushed off to pack.

Mu Dai didn’t leave. She bit her lip and watched as Luo Ren pulled down all the red strings crisscrossing the room. Then she gathered her courage and said, “Luo Ren, I can go with you guys.”