River Favor!

Clang! Clang! Clang... Nine gong strikes echoed over the wharf, rolling endlessly. Flanking both sides of the altar, shamans gripped short staves and sang hymns of worship. Yet if one listened closely, a tremor ran through every note. Hearing it for the first time, one might truly mistake it for the hymn's distinctive style. The ritual master gazed at the silhouette to one side, his chest rising and falling in a deep breath. Settling his mind, he bellowed in a resonant voice: "Chief celebrant, proceed!" The musicians raised their bronze horns. Great mallets struck the oxhide drum, sending booming notes reverberating across the length of Bluestone Street. The cadence grew steadily more solemn and mighty, pounding like a hollow thrum against the chests of all present. Liang Qu rose. One drumbeat for every stride, under thousands of watching eyes, he walked measuredly along the altar's central axis, ascended the thirteen steps, and took his place atop the platform. In the center of the five-chi-long offering table, the massive head of the mountain ghost faced the great river. Its yellowed vertical pupils were dim and lifeless, resting above a thick pool of congealing black blood. "Offer the incense!" Liang Qu lit the incense with glowing charcoal, bent low, and planted the sticks into the censer. "Pour the libation!" Liang Qu took the wine pot, filled three cups to the brim, and stood firm. "Recite the sacrificial text!" "River God above, upon this ground of Yixing and overlooking the waters of the Jianghuai River, I bear the trust of the masses and gather the hopes of the people, leading them this day in reverent worship before Your honored presence to offer this text... "When primordial chaos first parted, Heaven and Earth came into being. The heavens chart the sun and moon; the earth directs rivers and streams. Irrigating the central realm, nurturing myriad living things. Amid white mountains and black waters lies the Huai River..." Across ten thousand li of calm waters, ripples suddenly stirred. Vast was heaven and earth, lingering echoes ringing on and on. "Bow!" [Sacrificing to the Huai River, River Favor +0.0001] Liang Qu showed no change in expression as he bowed deeply. "Bow again!" A fierce gale surged from the river's surface, sweeping on without pause across vast distances. His long robes and wide sleeves snapped and billowed in the wind. The kneeling villagers could not resist looking up. Catching sight of the blood-stained white robe beneath the black cloak, their minds were shaken—he looked just like a deity! Liang Guangtian lingered near the back of the crowd, bowing again and again. By the time he rose, his back was soaked in cold sweat. The figure on the altar stood with the divine majesty of a mountain, utterly impossible to reconcile with the hunched wretch who had begged for grain three months ago. He suddenly felt that his nephew was so unfamiliar, so terrifying! Amidst that terror lingered a faint thread of regret. His gaze flicked toward Chen Qingjiang standing in the front rows before the altar. If he had lent grain back during the famine, would things have turned out completely different? Firecrackers crackled and popped. The ritual master shouted, and Liang Qu stepped down from the altar. Several men in coir raincoats mounted the platform to dance, and the drumbeats took on a lively, festive rhythm. When it all concluded, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. The sacrifice had finished smoothly after all; the mountain ghost's assault had not been an ill omen. Chen Zhao'an's anxious heart finally settled. He was already seventy-two years old. The Dashun dynasty had been founded a mere sixty years ago, and he remembered the days of its founding vividly. Yet in all his long life, he had never experienced such a thrilling, heart-stopping sacrificial ceremony. A mountain ghost had attacked during the ritual, only to be slain on the spot and offered to the river god... Truly, live long enough and you would see everything. It was a blessing to have lived this long. As Liang Qu descended from the altar, Chen Zhao'an and the other village elders immediately swarmed around him. The sacrifice was over, but not a single question weighing on their minds had been answered. Why had a mountain ghost appeared here in the first place? Was it the very beast that had caused such an uproar by slaughtering martial practitioners in Pingyang Town? Would more come later? Was there still danger? Liang Qu waved his hand, pointing at the wounds across his body. "Let me take a bath first. Call a doctor for me." "Right, right, of course! Come to my house, then!" Only then did Chen Zhao'an and the others remember that Liang Qu was injured. One elder hurriedly ushered everyone toward his own residence—the grand compound guarded by stone lions near the wharf where most of the villagers had sought shelter. The elder entered the compound and ordered the servants to boil water. Just as he was about to send his eldest son to summon a doctor from the clinic, the physician stepped forward eagerly. "Young Master Liang, I'm right here." Sacrificing to the river god was a major affair; anyone who was able attended, even non-fishermen. As a physician from a clinic in Yixing, he had naturally been present, positioned quite high up in the front rows near the altar, second only to the prominent households and sharing a rank with the craftsmen. By contrast, most fishermen stood in the middle and back rows, with only a select few permitted in front. Liang Qu nodded, stripping off his upper garment halfway to bare his torso. "I must trouble you to examine me, Doctor." His two most severe wounds were on his chest and shoulder, along with his right arm—all sustained from the mountain ghost's claws and bites, and all located on his upper body. The physician stepped closer, examining them before asking in astonishment, "May I ask what material Young Master Liang's cloak and robe are made of?" Liang Qu replied, "The cloak was a gift from my Second Senior Brother, made of dog-bear hide, impervious to blade and spear. The robe was a gift from my Eighth Senior Brother, woven with heavenly silkworm silk." His victory over the mountain ghost had come down to several factors: first, breaking through the skin gate, which drastically increased his strength and defense; second, his fusion had surged, granting another leap in physical constitution; third, the centipede's deadly venom—though slow to act, it had played a crucial role, delivering the fatal blow when the beast was trapped; and lastly, his body full of divine equipment. He might be green, but he had a full set of god-tier gear. Whether the bracers or the cloak, the robe woven with heavenly silkworm silk or the mountain ox hide belt, all of them had deflected multiple lethal strikes. Throughout the entire battle, they had remained completely intact, without even a single frayed thread. The village elders had never heard of any dog-bear or heavenly silkworm, but their ignorance only made it seem all the more formidable. They marveled inwardly that he was truly worthy of being Squire Yang's disciple—even the clothes he wore were extraordinary. "No wonder, no wonder," the doctor remarked in amazement. "With the protection of this cloak and robe, combined with Young Master Liang's robust and powerful physique, the wounds may look severe, but they are all superficial flesh wounds. That said, they are rather deep and have bled profusely, so care must be taken against suppuration. Fortunately, the weather is cold, so inflammation is less likely. Once the wounds are cleansed, dressed with medicine, and bandaged, two xuns of recuperation will see you right as rain." Liang Qu nodded. As long as his bones were intact, it was fine. Damaging bones was a truly agonizing ordeal. He pointed toward Li Libo and Chen Jiechang nearby. "Doctor, could you examine my two friends as well?" "Right away, right away." The physician went over to inspect the two. Chen Jiechang was mostly fine. Apart from exhaustion, his worst injury was scraping the skin on his hands when he kicked the mountain ghost and tumbled onto his rear. Li Libo was far worse off. The mountain ghost's arm swing had cracked his forearm bone. It was not fully broken, but injuring muscles and bones takes a hundred days; it would take at least two to three months to mend. Li Libo looked as if his parents had died. "It's over... How am I supposed to practice martial arts now?" Beside him, Li Libo's father, Li Dakang, also wore a troubled expression. Liang Qu chuckled. "Don't worry. I'll explain the situation to the senior brothers and secure three months of leave for you." If the two had not assisted by passing knives and attacking, taking down the mountain ghost would indeed not have been easy. Liang Qu was naturally willing to help. "Really? Then three months won't be necessary—it's not fully broken! Two months will do, two months is enough!" "Doesn't matter to me. As you wish." Li Dakang was overjoyed. "Then we've truly troubled you, Ah Shui." "Don't mention it, Uncle." "Doctor! Doctor, please look at me too, it hurts so much!" "Go tend to them first," Liang Qu said. The doctor offered an apology and busied himself. Many injured people lay in the courtyard. During the mountain ghost incident, many had tripped and fallen in the panicked scramble, leading to a stampede. Fortunately, no one had died, though a few had suffered severe injuries. There were also several who had jumped into the water in their blind panic. Only because Liang Qu and the others ended the battle swiftly were they hauled out in time to avoid freezing to death; all of them had been carried into the compound by the village elders. Once Liang Qu finished bathing, washed away the blood, and changed into clean clothes, the doctor returned to apply medicine and bandages. The village elders gathered around once more, desperate to know the answers to their questions.