"So hot!"
When Lian Youming regained consciousness, he felt as though he had been shoved into a furnace, suffocating under the sweltering heat.
"He's finally awake!"
Yang Dapao's voice came from nearby.
Lian Youming forced his eyes open, only to find himself stripped stark naked. Piled atop him were countless layers of cotton quilts, heavy as a mountain. Standing beside him was a familiar figure—Qin Yuhu.
Qin Yuhu opened his single eye slightly and asked in a low voice, "How do you feel?"
Lian Youming pursed his lips and answered instinctively, "Hot. Thirsty."
Hearing him speak, both men breathed a sigh of relief.
After they helped Lian Youming sit up and he gulped down two large bowls of brown sugar water, his mind cleared considerably.
Looking toward the daylight filtering through the doorway, he noticed two figures in green military coats stationed outside, clutching Type 56 submachine guns. Judging by the sounds beyond, there seemed to be quite a crowd—at least thirty or forty people, practically matching a reinforced platoon.
"Uncle Qin, how long have I been out?"
Qin Yuhu's expression was solemn, yet his tone remained calm. "A day and two nights. Nothing too serious—two broken ribs and some superficial wounds."
Before Lian Youming could reply, Qin Yuhu lit a cigarette on his own. "Tell me, what did you run into before you passed out?"
Lian Youming felt unsettled under his gaze. Glancing around, he noticed that the others in the dormitory were nowhere to be seen. Not only had the people vanished, but even their bedding and luggage had been completely cleared out.
Taking a drag of his cigarette, Qin Yuhu said, "Stop looking. They've all moved down the mountain. You'll have to go down shortly too, and only come back up after winter."
Lian Youming understood the underlying meaning: the forest farm had been taken over.
After a moment's consideration, he gave a half-true, half-fabricated account. "I don't know either. After eating that flatbread earlier, something felt off, so I hurried to splash cold water on my face. When I turned around, I found everyone else had fallen fast asleep."
Qin Yuhu's brow furrowed slightly, a sharp glint in his lone eye. "And then?"
Lian Youming lowered his head and whispered, "Then I got scared, so I lay on the heated kang and pretended to be asleep. After that, that Xie Laosan crept in. I even heard someone say he was with the White Lotus Sect. When he saw I wasn't asleep, he tried to silence me. It sounded like they were after the old man behind the canteen."
"The White Lotus Sect?"
Qin Yuhu exchanged a glance with Platoon Leader Yang.
Platoon Leader Yang sighed. "It was my dereliction of duty. I'll make a self-criticism."
Qin Yuhu waved his hand. "Can't blame you. Those people have bizarre methods that are impossible to guard against. Ordinary people can't handle them."
With that, Qin Yuhu looked back at Lian Youming and said meaningfully, "You brat, you're truly blessed with extraordinary luck. It seems that Old Man Yang's methods were far from simple, too."
Curious, Lian Youming asked, "Uncle Qin, did you see the old man?"
Qin Yuhu's expression darkened. "No. He and that girl named Yang Shuang both vanished without a trace. But we found five corpses at the forest farm, and... Why are you asking all this? None of this concerns you anymore. Once you're down the mountain, nurse your injuries properly. I'll have your Aunt Shen boil more bone broth to nourish you."
"Vanished?"
Though Lian Youming had countless questions swirling in his mind, seeing the military presence outside, he swallowed his words.
The Old Man Who Guards the Mountain and Yang Shuang had strange backgrounds and obscure identities. Now that they had slipped away silently, they clearly had no wish to deal with men of the military.
Qin Yuhu glanced at him. "After heading down the mountain, Xie Laosan fled north and was spotted by our people. As luck would have it, I was planning to come bring you some things, so I came up with them."
Hearing this, Lian Youming perked up. "Did you catch him?"
Qin Yuhu shook his head. "Looks like someone on the Soviet side was waiting to receive him. He slipped away."
Seeing Lian Youming's distracted look, Qin Yuhu's gaze grew inscrutable as he warned, "Let this matter end here. After you go down the mountain, whoever asks, you tell them you know nothing. Luckily nothing went wrong. None of those who died were good people anyway, so your word is what goes."
Lian Youming's eyelids twitched. Seeing that Qin Yuhu was not probing any further, he could only offer a wry smile. "Uncle, don't wrongly accuse me."
Without wasting words, Qin Yuhu turned to leave. "Get dressed and head down on your own. Some things can only happen once. If you dare do something like this a second time, see if I don't set you straight in your dad's place."
As he walked out, he tossed over a bloodstained trihedral military dagger with a half-smile.
At the sight of the weapon, Lian Youming's face froze. Like a thief caught red-handed, he immediately behaved himself, assuming an utterly obedient look.
"All right!"
Only after watching Lian Youming struggle to get dressed and, assisted by several militiamen, board the horse cart down the mountain did Qin Yuhu stride toward those earthen houses.
The snow had stopped, and the wind had dispersed.
Numerous figures in green uniforms with Type 56s slung across their backs patrolled the surroundings.
Puffing on his cigarette, Qin Yuhu crouched down, his gaze dropping to the five corpses laid out in a row on the snow-dusted black earth.
Platoon Leader Yang followed him over, his alarm growing the more he looked. "Farm Chief Qin, the wounds on these people are quite bizarre."
How could they not be? The fist hole punched clean through the dwarf's back was shocking enough on its own. And that goatherd with the goatee—every bone in his body was dislocated and shattered like a busted snake. His gruesome death was eerie to the extreme.
***
Naturally, Lian Youming knew nothing of what was happening on the mountain.
Lying in the donkey cart wrapped in a cotton quilt, his thoughts had already drifted far away.
Given the horrific injuries the Old Man Who Guards the Mountain had suffered, the odds were he wouldn't survive.
This departure might truly mean they would never meet again.
As for the secret on the mountain, it had surely been taken along.
From now on, the one guarding that secret would likely be that young woman named Yang Shuang.
*What kind of secret was it, anyway?*
Suddenly remembering something, Lian Youming quickly patted his pockets, especially the inner lining.
Only when he felt the two pieces of brocade silk still in place did he quietly sigh in relief.
The journey passed in silence.
The donkey cart swayed along, making steady progress before finally arriving at a hamlet near the county town.
The hamlet was called Kaoshan Hamlet.
Led by the village party secretary, Lian Youming was arranged to stay at an old village doctor's home to recuperate temporarily.
Little did he expect that this bed rest would last for over a month.
People often said a broken bone required a hundred days of rest, and the saying held completely true.
Ever since waking up, whether due to the injuries inflicted by Xie Laosan or from forcefully exerting the Toad-Hooking Force, his constitution was dreadfully weak. He couldn't even step out into the yard; the moment the cold wind blew on him, all color drained from his face and his hands and feet trembled uncontrollably.
His originally robust, burly frame shrank noticeably in less than half a month.
Fortunately, now that he was at the foot of the mountain, Shen Qinghong had Qin Yuhu bring over home-cooked meals every few days.
What Lian Youming found hardest to endure, however, was the old village doctor he lodged with.
The man had a decent temper, but the herbal medicine he brewed was damnably bitter. Nine doses a day—three each morning, noon, and night. It was so bitter that everything Lian Youming ate tasted the same, and even drinking plain water left a bitter tang coating his throat, making life feel hardly worth living.
This miserable convalescence dragged on until the first lunar month.
At noon that day, Lian Youming sat in the courtyard, tending to his decoction over the fire while identifying the various medicinal herbs the old doctor had laid out to dry.
The old doctor was surnamed Liu. He sported a large, bald head, frequently stammered when speaking, carried a medicine gourd at his waist, and wore a pair of spectacles. Besides treating ailments in humans, whenever the hamlet's pigs, dogs, cattle, sheep, or any livestock fell ill, he was the one called to handle it.
To put it bluntly, he was a rustic village practitioner who dabbled in everything and mastered nothing.
"Xiao... Xiao Ming, do you kn-know what soup I... I brewed for you t-today?" The village doctor sat in the sun, airing his mildewed medical texts.
Lian Youming rolled his eyes. "Isn't it just Major Bupleurum Decoction?"
The doctor chuckled. "You... you brat, you're really smart. Wh-why don't you lend a hand h-here after you heal up? I'll t-talk to the secretary and g-get you work points too."
Listening to that stuttering sentence nearly made Lian Youming's old injuries flare up in exasperation.
Yet he actually found the suggestion appealing.
Ever since the incident at the forest farm, the educated youth had been temporarily distributed among several hamlets. Assigned to Kaoshan Hamlet alongside Lian Youming were four others.
Among the four, Lian Youming vaguely remembered one female youth, while the other three were complete strangers. Their tasks were dull and monotonous—either minding the hamlet's mules and horses or clutching a battered gong to watch over the livestock and keep wild beasts from coming down the mountain.
Besides, there were still two or three months before they could return to the forest farm in spring, and Lian Youming had no desire to endure such tedious drudgery.
He had already been lying in bed for over a month. Any longer, and he felt he would turn into a total invalid.
Moreover, he had many questions regarding the regulation of internal qi and the meridians of the human body.
This was an excellent opportunity to learn, just when he lacked someone to clear his doubts.
"All right, whatever you say."
As Lian Youming replied, he poured the properly steeped medicinal brew into a bowl.
After letting it cool briefly, he tipped his head back and downed it in one gulp.
Just then, the roar of an engine came from beyond the courtyard wall.
As the rumble drew closer, Qin Yuhu pulled up at the entrance on his motorcycle with a sidecar. In addition to a large parcel strapped to the vehicle, a young woman with a high ponytail was seated aboard.
The moment Lian Youming saw Qin Yuhu, delight crossed his face. He was about to call out a greeting when his eyes swept over the woman, and his expression instantly changed.
Having witnessed life-and-death clashes, he was no novice.
His eyes narrowed. The woman's breathing was smooth, drawn out, and barely perceptible—as though she weren't breathing at all. It was completely unlike Qin Yuhu's visible exhalations that frosted in the cold air.
"Uncle Qin, what brings you here?"
Qin Yuhu carried the parcel inside. "This is a package your parents sent. A few changes of clothes and some food. Also, Xiuxiu has time off and comes back tomorrow; your Aunt Shen wants you over for dinner."
As he spoke, Qin Yuhu looked toward the woman beside him. "This is Miss Gong, visiting from Beijing."
Pausing, Qin Yuhu added, "She's a successor of Baguamen."
"Baguamen?"
Lian Youming's heart gave a jolt, though his face remained impassive.
He remembered that before the goatherd died, the Old Man Who Guards the Mountain had mentioned that the man was from Baguamen.
The young woman wore her hair in a high ponytail, clad in a brown high-collared sweater beneath an off-white cotton overcoat. Such attire might be warm enough in Beijing, but in Tahe it was rather thin. She wore nothing on her head for warmth either, yet her expression was completely serene, as though she felt no chill whatsoever.
Lian Youming still remembered nearly freezing to death when riding in that sidecar.
This person's internal martial arts had likely attained a profoundly deep realm.
The woman's brows and eyes were faint as mist. Her slender hands hung naturally at her sides as she asked softly, "My name is Gong Wu'er. If it's convenient, may I ask you a few questions?"
Gong Wu'er?
What a peculiar name.
Lian Youming glanced at Qin Yuhu, then back at the woman before him. He nodded. "What do you want to ask?"
Her expression serene, Gong Wu'er asked softly, "Do you know the name and surname of the Old Man Who Guards the Mountain?"
Hearing this, Lian Youming felt a stir in his heart. Was she seeking the old man for vengeance? Or had she come to investigate the incident at the forest farm?
Before he could dwell on it, the woman suddenly produced a small blue-and-white porcelain bottle. "Your injuries were caused by internal force. You need not only decoctions to regulate your system, but also topical medicine for external wounds. Inside are three sixty-year-old medicinal pills. You need only dissolve one in strong liquor and rub it into the injured areas with your palm for half an hour each night. In three to five days, the bruises left by the internal force will disperse."
Lian Youming's eyes flickered. After a brief pause, he countered with a question instead: "Who is Yang Banhou?"
Gong Wu'er's delicate brows lifted, her face turning sharp as a cold blade. A brilliant light flashed in her eyes, yet her tone remained calm throughout. "Are you certain that person was named Yang Banhou?"
Lian Youming shook his head. "I only inadvertently saw a memorial tablet for Yang Banhou enshrined in the old man's room."
Gong Wu'er gave a slight nod and handed the medicine bottle to Lian Youming.
"Thank you!"
With that, she turned to leave, as though she had traveled thousands of li solely to ask that single question.
Lian Youming weighed the bottle in his hand and called after her receding figure, "You still haven't told me who Yang Banhou is!"
Before the words had fully left his mouth, Qin Yuhu clouted him on the back of the head, scolding him irritably, "Who told you to blabber, you brat? I went out of my way to plead with my former superior just to invite her here to treat your injuries!"
Over the past weeks, Lian Youming had eaten meat and fish in abundance, never missing out on all sorts of tonics, yet he remained sickly and pale without the slightest sign of improvement. Qin Yuhu and his wife had been worried sick.
Gong Wu'er looked back at the boy in the courtyard thoughtfully. "It's no secret. That Yang Banhou was the second son of Taiji grandmaster Yang Luchan. In years past, he fought across Beijing without meeting a match."
Having said that, she looked at Qin Yuhu. "Mr. Qin, I would like to visit the mountain."
Qin Yuhu shot Lian Youming another fierce glare. "You brat, keep your head down and study. Stop daydreaming about nonsense."
Before long, watching Qin Yuhu ride away with Gong Wu'er, Lian Youming looked down at the bottle in his hands.
Big Head Liu suddenly leaned in, unable to contain his eagerness. "Quick, let me take a look! Sixty-year-old aged medicine is precious stuff, prepared from secret formulas passed down by martial sects of old. Once sealed in wax, the longer it sits, the more astonishing its potency becomes. Sixty years—a whole sexagenary cycle! Even those great medicine halls in Beijing with two or three centuries of heritage might not have such a thing."
Lian Youming asked dubiously, "Is it really that mystical?"
Taking his arm, the doctor pulled him toward the house. "Whether it is or not, won't you know once you try it?"
As Lian Youming walked inside, he looked back toward the direction Qin Yuhu and the woman had gone, unable to suppress a sigh.
"Ah!"
He had barely started dreaming of the jianghu, and he'd already been damn well woken up.
Chapter 15