The moonlight shifted on the ground. Zheng Zhuxi's eyes flickered slightly as she looked at Ding Songyan and asked, "Is there anything else you wish to ask?"
Ding Songyan slowly shook his head.
Not only did it seem he had achieved his aim, but he had also managed to string many pieces together and see through it all: who knew what treasure Yan Changqing had actually brought out of the Heavenly Emperor's traveling palace in Mount Kunlun? Even if he had brought nothing, merely the truth of where the vanished Mount Kunlun lay and how to enter it would be enough to make a host of Perfected Ones and grand masters fight tooth and nail over it.
"We will keep watch," Zheng Zhuxi said, nodding with great solemnity.
She took back the glass palace lantern and led the group of Xiaoming Sect disciples out of Chengyu Lane.
Seeing that the streets were empty of passersby, Zheng Zhuxi glanced up at the tallest watchtower, hesitated for a moment, and said, "Senior Sister Wuyue, Senior Brother Wu Feng, let us head to the prefectural and county yamens first to report this matter. Afterward, we will send word back to the sect by carrier pigeon, so my mother or one of our martial uncles and aunts can rush over tonight.
"If no reply arrives by tomorrow morning, the three of us will make the trip back to the sect ourselves.
"This affair is complicated, and traveling by night is fraught with peril and unpredictable danger. Unless accompanied by an expert of the Ruhua rank, no one should attempt to leave the city alone to report back."
That last remark explained why she intended only to send a carrier pigeon back to the Xiaoming Sect tonight.
Dressed in tight black martial attire, the expressionless Senior Brother Wu Feng thought for a moment before saying, "From what Ding Erlang said, this matter not only implicates Zhen Manor, but also involves the appearance of a nearly complete edition of The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas. Perhaps it even holds the answer to the mystery of Kunlun's disappearance, or secret treasures from the Heavenly Emperor's traveling palace. Why not keep it under wraps for now and inform only our sect?
"Even if the carrier pigeon fails, once daylight breaks, a round trip would take barely more than half a day."
Zheng Zhuxi walked down the dark street, her light green silk skirt swaying gently with her steps.
After a long silence, she pursed her lips and said, "Human lives hang in the balance; saving lives is like putting out a fire. The experts from the prefectural and county yamens are right nearby. How could we pass up what is near at hand to seek aid from afar?"
Tao Wuyue parted her lips, wanting to say something, but in the end kept silent.
Wu Feng gazed at Zheng Zhuxi's back, his expression unchanged. In a low voice, he said, "'Illuminating the long night—the long night lies without, yet also within the heart.' For Junior Sister Zheng to make such a judgment, your future accomplishments will surely know no bounds."
"Senior Brother Wu, your heart is simply devoted entirely to the sect; it isn't a question of who is right and who is wrong." Zheng Zhuxi seemed to relax considerably, and a luminous smile appeared on her face. "Since I am leading the patrol this time, the decision rests with me, and I will be the one to answer to the Disciplinary Elder afterward. If any punishment comes down, you can say I insisted on having my own way and could not be dissuaded."
***
After speaking with Zheng Zhuxi, much of the inexplicable oppression Ding Songyan had felt earlier had dissipated, though it seemed he had forgotten something again. With unhurried steps, he returned home and lay down on his bed.
Just as he was drifting hazily toward sleep, he suddenly heard the sound of sobbing.
It came from the inner room partitioned by the crude screen, heart-wrenching and sorrowful.
"Qingyan?" Ding Songyan called out in confusion.
"Second Brother... sob... I had a nightmare," Ding Qingyan said between sniffling sobs.
Ding Songyan felt a touch of helplessness. "What kind of nightmare?"
Ding Qingyan sniffed. "First I dreamed... I dreamed that we moved back into that big courtyard, but then... Father died, Mother died, Eldest Brother died, and you died too. The whole courtyard was covered in blood, bright, fresh red blood... and I was the only one standing there watching. I was all alone... sob..."
The more she spoke, the more her tears overflowed.
"Dreams are always the opposite of reality," Ding Songyan tried to comfort her.
Ding Qingyan whimpered, "But it felt so awful, just like it really happened. And then I dreamed again that we were still in this courtyard, and Mother killed Eldest Brother, killed Father, and you abandoned me too, disappearing to who knows where, leaving me all alone in this room... sob... all by myself..."
"Aren't I right here?" Ding Songyan said gently.
Ding Qingyan seemed to be wiping her tears and nose with a handkerchief, and only spoke again after a moment: "I also dreamed that I was waiting for you to tell me a story and lull me to sleep. I waited and waited and waited, but you never came. The room was so dark, and there seemed to be blood on the window..."
By the end, the young girl broke into sobs once more.
"How about I tell you a chapter right now?" Ding Songyan sensed that his sister wasn't crying like this just to trick him into telling a story.
"No need," Ding Qingyan replied with a heavy, nasal sniffle. Her voice trembling slightly with fear, she said, "Second Brother, do you think... do you think something bad is going to happen? Otherwise, why would I have dreams like that? Second Brother, I don't want to be separated from you all. Second Brother, I don't want you to die..."
At the thought of what might unfold tomorrow, Ding Songyan's mind churned, and for a moment he did not know how to console her.
*I haven't shown any signs that anything is amiss... Is Little Sister really that sensitive to bad omens?* Sighing to himself, Ding Songyan said to Ding Qingyan, "It won't happen. I won't die, and wherever I go, I'll take you with me."
"Swear it!" Ding Qingyan seemed aware that she was being somewhat unreasonable, yet her emotions had not fully settled.
"Fine, fine, fine," Ding Songyan said, bantering to ease the mood. "Whom should I swear to?"
"Swear to the Supreme Primordial Heavenly Venerable," Ding Qingyan said after a moment's thought.
This was the honorary title Daoism had conferred upon the Heavenly Emperor after assimilating him into their own pantheon. The full version was too long for most to remember, so ordinary folk referred to him by this shortened form.
Ding Songyan cleared his throat. "I, Ding Songyan, swear to the Supreme Primordial Heavenly Venerable that I will not die, nor will I abandon my little sister. Wherever I go, I shall take her with me. If I break this oath, may I be struck by lightning, burned by fire, and drowned in flood."
The premise for violating this oath was that he died, so Ding Songyan swore it without the slightest psychological burden. Once a person was dead, what was there left to fear?
Even so, considering this was a world with divine powers and a Netherworld, he had secretly swapped out the phrase "condemned to eternal damnation" that he had intended to say for "burned by fire, and drowned in flood." What if one retained awareness after death, or an afterlife truly existed?
As for taking his sister wherever he went, that was merely a matter of an extra pair of chopsticks and an extra bowl.
Only then did Ding Qingyan say with satisfaction, "Then I believe you."
Tossing and turning for a while, she finally fell asleep again.
***
The next day, Ding Songyan, having slept poorly, bore faintly puffy bags under his eyes as he picked up the tools of his trade and prepared to head out.
"Erlang," Ding Daniu, who for some reason was heading to the docks a bit later today, walked over and said with a smile, "You treat me so well. I'll remember it."
*Why say something so bizarre out of nowhere...?* Thoroughly baffled, Ding Songyan gave a vague couple of replies before setting off with Xu Chang'an toward Duokang Temple.
Seeing the market coming into view, he pondered for a moment and said to Xu Chang'an, "Come looking for me at my home at shenzheng. If I'm not there, go to the county yamen and report that Zhen Manor intends to harm me."
"What?" Xu Chang'an looked at Ding Songyan in shock and suspicion.
Ding Songyan smiled and nodded. "You won't need to worry about what happens after that."
If things were going to erupt today, no one would bother watching an insignificant figure like Xu Chang'an anymore. If they didn't erupt, then by shenzheng, Ding Songyan would surely already be home waiting for him—and besides, Xu Chang'an might not even remember any of this by then.
Xu Chang'an's Adam's apple bobbed several times. "All right."
The two parted ways. Ding Songyan arrived at his usual open clearing, rallied his spirits, and delivered the final session of The Legend of the White Snake with dramatic ups and downs, concluding at last on a heartwarming scene of family reunion.
Xiaoqing, looking thoroughly pleased, rewarded him with another silver ingot. Seeing the happy ending, the other listeners reached into their purses one after another, far more generous than usual.
"See you this evening." Hurrying to attend the Zhen Manor banquet, Xiaoqing didn't say much to Ding Songyan, merely waving before walking off toward Tianyang Guildhall with her maid.
Just as Ding Songyan was preparing to leave, he saw a fellow storyteller wearing a dark blue robe approach.
The middle-aged man in his forties plastered on a smile and asked, "Ding Erlang, would you be willing to let others tell your Legend of the White Snake?"
"I plan to write it out over the next few days to see if the storytellers' guild is willing to take it," Ding Songyan replied, having already considered the matter.
He had already learned quite a bit about the rules of storytelling in this world: if others wished to perform his Legend of the White Snake, they had to pay him silver and obtain his consent; otherwise, they would have to disguise it beyond recognition before telling it. Of course, if someone heard the story and ran off to Yanjing or other prefectures to tell it, his reach would be too short to do anything about it.
If he sold the storybook of The Legend of the White Snake to the storytellers' guild, then other storytellers would only need to pay a fee to the guild to perform the story and adapt it to their liking without seeking his permission. As for whether Ding Songyan received a cut, that would depend on the terms he negotiated with the guild.
Furthermore, the local guild would recommend good storybooks to guilds in other prefectures to earn money. If other guilds bought it, they would naturally keep an eye out for any storyteller who performed it without paying. As the saying went, "All storytellers' guilds under heaven are one family, tied together through thick and thin"; any internal friction or grudges would be settled behind closed doors.
Hearing Ding Songyan's reply, the fellow storyteller beamed with delight. "That would be wonderful, truly wonderful! Ding Erlang, you're a generous man!"
Ding Songyan offered a few modest remarks. Just as he was about to depart, several more people came over to approach him one after another, all from well-known wasi entertainment venues in Beili Ward, inviting him to hold regular storytelling sessions.
Not even knowing if he would have a tomorrow, he excused himself by saying he would give it serious consideration and left the Duokang Temple market.
Grabbing a quick bite to eat, he arrived outside Zhen Manor. Rather than rushing inside, he paced back and forth nearby, waiting for Miss Xiaoqing and her second uncle to arrive, and waiting for Ren Youyang to appear.
He wanted to show his face before Miss Xiaoqing and Ren Youyang, subtly "informing" them that just like any other day, he happened to be at Zhen Manor too—so that if something went wrong, they might remember to lend him a hand.
As he waited patiently, Ding Songyan suddenly caught sight of a familiar figure.
It was his mother, Liu Yuzao.
Liu Yuzao was dressed in a dark front-fastening short jacket and a blue horse-face skirt, wearing a black gauze veiled hat on her head as she walked toward Zhen Manor with unhurried steps.
"Mother, what are you doing here?" Ding Songyan went up to meet her in confusion.
"To visit your Cousin Nuansheng," Liu Yuzao replied simply.
After a moment of silence, Ding Songyan said, "Zhen Manor has distinguished guests today. It would be best not to stay too long."
*It could be dangerous.*
Liu Yuzao murmured an "Mm" and entered Zhen Manor through a side gate.
Watching her retreating back, Ding Songyan felt confused at first, but then a sharp throb of pain struck his head.
*Fake, fake, all fake!* It was as though a voice erupted within his heart, echoing incessantly.
In an instant, Ding Songyan remembered what he had discovered the previous night—and what he had forgotten:
Ding Shengyi was the "moth father" orchestrating the "moth person" to put on a show, and Ding Daniu was an accomplished martial artist bearing bizarre physical anomalies!
Yet on his walk with Miss Xiaoqing, he had completely forgotten all of it!
The moment these memories rushed back, Ding Songyan was struck by the recollection of the questions he had asked Ding Qingyan right after waking from transmigration:
"How do you prove you're my real sister?"
"Then how do you prove that the ones who come are my father and mother?"
Those words had turned into a prophecy fulfilled.
Chapter 45