The Bai Family Takes a Groom

The woman from before was now standing inside the memorial archway. The umbrella in her hand was gone, and she cradled the porcelain vase in both arms. At that moment, Xue Liangliang made a startling discovery: after passing under this archway, not only had the pulling force of the river current vanished, but even that horrifying sensation of suffocation was gone. He immediately began drawing huge gulps of breath. Yet though he kept repeating the motion, he gained none of the relief he ought to have felt. His mouth and nose felt as if they were blocked up; not a single breath of fresh air entered. He abruptly realized that what had changed was only his perception; the reality before him had not changed at all. He was still at the bottom of the river. Yet how on earth was this possible? He knew how to swim. Growing up in his hometown in Anhui, he had often splashed around and swum with his playmates. After entering college, he would occasionally head to a swimming pool with classmates for several vigorous laps back and forth. Yet he never imagined his swimming ability could be so preposterously great. He had been underwater for so long that he had blown past the limits of holding his breath long ago. He felt beneath his ears. It was still his original skin; no gills had grown. He even turned to look behind him and farther into the distance, wondering whether he had drowned long ago, and whether his current self was merely... Xue Liangliang clutched his head tightly with both hands, forcing himself to calm down. Yet the mental tricks that had always worked so well during exams and design reviews completely failed him now. Panic still churned in his heart. His body continued to tremble like a leaf, and his teeth chattered uncontrollably. He was terrified—terrified of this riverbed world, terrified of this memorial archway, and terrified of that woman standing beyond it cradling the porcelain vase. He desperately wanted to flee this place, if only that were possible. Just then, the woman moved, beginning to walk inward. Xue Liangliang stayed where he was, terrified to step into the archway, terrified to take the initiative to explore this small town. Yet once a certain distance opened between him and the woman, that terrible suffocation returned. Xue Liangliang had no choice but to stumble forward a few hurried paces, and the suffocation vanished once more. He understood now: as long as he strayed too far from that woman, the sensation would return. The woman walked on ahead, and Xue Liangliang could only follow, stepping beneath the archway. He had no other choice. For someone who had just tasted the agony of suffocating in despair, going back to endure it again was torture magnified several times, even dozens of times over. Though there was clearly no physical bond connecting him to the woman, an unseen chain seemed to stretch between them, one end gripped in her hands, the other looped around his throat. Beyond the archway was a descending flight of more than thirty steps. Xue Liangliang could not help feeling bewildered. Logically speaking, unless forced by specific terrain, most ancient towns with memorial archways would never adopt a layout that plunged downward immediately upon entering the main gate. The ancients preferred to build on slightly elevated ground, placing the archway forward and lower down, while the terrain behind it rose to project an aura of grandeur. Yet here, not only was the ground not elevated, it had been deliberately excavated into a massive depression. No wonder the town's buildings had appeared so hazy and indistinct when viewed from outside—half of them were actually sunken and obscured, leaving only their upper portions visible. Moreover, the construction of the steps was exceedingly bizarre. Normally, the outer edges were designed as smooth inclines while the broad middle section was made of steps for people to walk on. Here, however, the dead center was an enormous smooth slab, while the actual stairs for walking flanked the sides—narrow, tiny, and steep. As he walked down, Xue Liangliang sometimes had to turn his body sideways. It was as if everyone who walked here had bound feet. Reaching the bottom of the steps, he arrived on flat ground. What met his eyes was a stone-paved street that was not very wide, even feeling somewhat cramped. Furthermore, the stone bricks were not laid flat. Every single brick stood on end, its narrow edge facing upward. Doing this would not only consume far more bricks, but it also dramatically increased the construction labor. At the same time, because of centuries of erosion, even the best ancient roads would grow uneven. With this bizarre paving method, finding a spot where the sole of one's foot could plant flat and firm was an absolute impossibility. With every step, only a tiny patch of the sole made solid contact, leaving the rest hanging in empty space. One had to tread with utmost caution; a single lapse in attention would twist an ankle and send one crashing down. Fortunately, the woman ahead cradling the porcelain vase walked at a modest pace, allowing Xue Liangliang to keep up. Once he had grown slightly accustomed to the footing, Xue Liangliang began examining the dwellings on both sides. The houses were tightly packed, overall reflecting the architectural style of Jiangnan water towns, with white walls and gray tiles. Between each doorway and the street lay a trench less than half a meter wide, capped with stone slabs—presumably a drainage channel. Xue Liangliang could not comprehend the point of building drainage channels at the bottom of a river... unless this town had only plunged into the river after it was built. To the left of every doorway was a niche holding a lit candle that cast an eerie, greenish glow. At first, the doors of the houses he passed were all shut. Soon, however, Xue Liangliang spotted an open doorway, its interior pitch-black and impossible to see clearly. An unsettling feeling surfaced in his mind. This discomfort did not stem from fear or pressure, but from a glaring anomaly—especially once he looked closely at the doorways of these houses. After a moment's thought, he finally realized what it was: none of these doors had a raised threshold beneath them. Modern buildings had long discarded thresholds, of course, and people were thoroughly accustomed to seeing and using them that way. But in traditional architecture, doors were typically built tall and elongated; without a threshold, they produced a profound sense of disharmony. It was too stark, too grim—like a monster opening its maw, inspiring dread at first glance. "Ah!" As he walked, Xue Liangliang suddenly caught sight of someone sitting inside an open doorway on the right. Terrified, he stumbled back two steps. The wretched, jagged ground failed his footing, and he slipped and tumbled to the ground, sprawling right opposite that open door. Sitting inside was an elderly woman. Whether from being soaked in the water for so long, her skin looked ghastly pale and slightly bloated. She wore a blue padded jacket, its color as vivid as burial clothes, though far more elaborate and heavy in its styling. Her head, neck, and hands were draped in all kinds of jewelry. She simply sat there, as if she had been sitting for an eternity. Fortunately, her eyes were closed. "Hah... hah..." If her eyes had been open, Xue Liangliang felt that this sudden encounter would have frightened him unconscious on the spot. Though his current surroundings and the woman leading the way were already uncanny enough, the peculiar architecture paired with these seated figures created an entirely different, far more shocking horror within an already eerie atmosphere. Xue Liangliang scrambled to his feet. The suffocation showed faint signs of returning, so he broke into a jog to close the distance between himself and the woman ahead. His mind remained fixed on that old woman sitting behind the door. The space behind her was pitch-black, devoid of furniture or fixtures. This made these compact, two-story houses feel very much like personal tombs belonging solely to them. Open-mouthed tombs. So this was not an empty, abandoned town submerged under the river. In that case, were there people inside those closed houses he had seen when he first entered? And those houses with open doors where no one was visible... were their masters upstairs on the second floor? At this thought, Xue Liangliang subconsciously edged closer to the woman ahead. He feared her, too, but when he imagined the houses on both sides being tombs and himself walking down a funeral path between them, the woman ahead seemed far easier to bear. At least she moved. As he walked on, Xue Liangliang saw a second open door with someone sitting inside. This was a young girl wearing an embroidered gown, her hair piled high in a solemn coiffure. She sat with hands folded on her lap and eyes closed, her lips strikingly crimson. Xue Liangliang shuddered with a single glance and immediately tore his gaze away. Next, he saw a woman sitting behind a doorway in a qipao. Her waist was slender and her posture alluring, hands resting at her sides, a faint smile seemingly gracing the corners of her mouth. She looked as if she were silently beckoning one to step inside and keep her company. Xue Liangliang noticed that the deeper he went, the more open doors appeared, and the higher the proportion of seated women became. From the first old woman until now, he had already seen more than a dozen women sitting inside open doorways. They spanned different age groups and wore varying styles of dress, but all were adorned with solemn formality—very much like rural elders who had their burial garments and coffins prepared before their departure, wanting to present their most dignified appearance for their funeral rites. This was their carefully designed appearance... in death. From being soaked in water, their complexions were all pale—unusually, unnaturally pale. Yet unlike bodies that underwent bloating after long immersion, none of them were deformed. At the very least, they had preserved their living appearance to an extraordinary degree. Even more incomprehensible was that the dead usually passed from illness, injury, or natural old age; under normal circumstances, their state upon dying was far from serene. Yet among them, even the oldest woman still retained an air of calm composure. It was as though they had not marched toward death with their lamps burnt out, but had willingly chosen to die while still possessing the capacity to live on with grace. Truth be told, if they had displayed all manner of gruesome, violent deaths, Xue Liangliang might not have been quite so terrified. Yet it was precisely this atmosphere—this deliberate posture of being dressed up and seated there for someone to look at, or perhaps watching someone—that heaped immense mental pressure upon him. In a daze, he felt a creeping disorientation: was he observing them, or were they sitting inside those rooms observing him? In his distraction, Xue Liangliang bumped right into the woman's back. She had stopped without him noticing. With that collision, the woman did not budge, but Xue Liangliang fell backward onto the ground. The woman did not look back. Turning right, she shifted direction and walked deeper in. A crossroads appeared here, with two small footbridges flanking the path. No water ran beneath them; they served purely decorative and geomantic purposes. Xue Liangliang scrambled to his feet and had no choice but to follow her turn. Beyond this point... the doors of all the houses on both sides stood wide open, and inside every single dwelling sat a woman. "Ah..." Xue Liangliang felt on the verge of a mental breakdown. Though their eyes were all closed, that pervasive, dense sensation of being watched filled him with agonizing torment and dread. He could only adopt the most ostrich-like strategy: keeping his head bowed behind the woman, refusing to look to either side. Though his peripheral vision inevitably caught glimpses, and though his heart pounded faster and faster, he somehow held out. A normal person coming here would probably have gone mad. If Xiao Yuan were here, would he react differently from an ordinary person? No, better that Xiao Yuan never came to a place like this. He didn't even know if he himself would make it out alive—no, he wasn't even certain whether he could still be considered alive right now. At last, the houses on both sides fell away. Xue Liangliang pressed a hand to his forehead, drawing deep breaths. Even if it was merely an empty motion, he needed it now to vent the crushing pressure inside. Then he hurried to catch up with the woman. Now free of the terrifying stares from both sides, he could finally lift his head to look forward. Ahead lay a small open plaza where a primitive, dignified building stood, distinct from the other dwellings. It must be the Baijia Town ancestral hall. Xue Liangliang couldn't help pausing. Should he enter? Immediately, he stepped forward anyway. What was there to hesitate about? It wasn't as if he had a choice. *Creak...* The pitch-black main doors of the ancestral hall swung slowly open on their own as the woman approached. This hall, too, had no threshold. Beyond the doorway lay another downward flight of steps, still featuring a broad, smooth central slab with only narrow strips of footing on either side. Crossing a modest square courtyard, the woman continued inward. As Xue Liangliang followed, his gaze was drawn to an old well right in the center. Its mouth was not raised; rather, it was sunken downward, and the surrounding ground dipped in unison. This was no accident of age; it had been designed this way from the start. Rusted chains hung along the well's inner walls. This made Xue Liangliang wonder: were they there to help people above climb down for water, or to help whatever was below... climb up? They reached the core of the ancestral hall. Cradling the vase, the woman sank to her knees, proceeding no farther. Xue Liangliang approached her side and studied her anew. Why would this young woman, dressed clearly in modern clothing with the distinct air of a worldly profession about her, appear in this place—and appear so familiar with it that it felt as though she were coming home? So what should he do now? Stay beside her, or venture deeper to look around? With her as the center of a circle, he had a certain radius of movement; it was just that he had stayed behind her all this time, never daring to step ahead. In the end, he chose to remain beside her, going nowhere. Gradually, however, the suffocation returned. Pain and distress crept over him, and his hands instinctively clamped around his throat. Yet the woman was right here, kneeling just ahead of him to his flank. Why had the feeling returned? Xue Liangliang edged closer to her, but the suffocation did not abate. Was it no longer working? He could not imagine being subjected to endless, suffocating torture in such a sinister, suffocating place. What kind of bottomless torment was this? "Ugh... ah..." Xue Liangliang collapsed to his knees as well, groaning in agony. His consciousness blurred again and again, only to snap back to clarity each time. He despised this sharpness of mind, because it ensured his psyche endured repeated floggings of torment. With a dull thud, Xue Liangliang pitched forward onto his side. Because there was no threshold, strictly speaking, half of his body tumbled into the inner sanctuary of the ancestral hall. At that moment, he suddenly realized the suffocation had lessened. After a fleeting hesitation, he dragged himself further inside. The suffocation diminished again. He understood now: the woman holding the vase was no longer working. The chain she held had snapped, and a new chain was inside here! He crawled forward another stretch until the suffocation vanished completely, and at last he was able to stand. Looking back behind him, the space outside the inner doorway was pitch-black; only the woman holding the vase by the entrance remained vaguely visible. Turning back around, an enormous red coffin met his eyes. The coffin was elevated on a wooden frame, so even when Xue Liangliang stood on tiptoe, he could only faintly make out a trace of yellow lining within; anything deeper was hidden from view unless he climbed onto it. With trepidation in his heart, he crept slowly around the coffin, steeling himself for something to pop out at any second. Yet by the time he had completed a full circuit, nothing frightening had appeared. Directly facing the head of the coffin, where an offering table and tablet stand ought to have stood, there was none. Only a single grandmaster chair sat there. To the left and right of the coffin were plain walls of blue brick. The ancestral hall at the center of Baijia Town seemed excessively sparse and desolate, like a newly constructed, newly decorated house that had never had the chance to be inhabited. Yet was that truly the case? Xue Liangliang recalled the women sitting behind the doors of all those houses he had passed. If everyone had died in their own homes, perhaps there really was no need to place ancestral tablets in the hall. Could there be an exit here? Xue Liangliang had not given up on saving himself. He vaguely felt that the path out ought to lie within this ancestral hall. Summoning his courage, he stopped circling only the coffin and began expanding his search, walking along the three walls and feeling his way around the entire perimeter. He even used his hands to tap the bricks, checking for hollow spots or hidden doors, and stamped his feet firmly as he walked to test for underground passages. Regrettably, he found nothing. The area wasn't especially large, and it was far too empty—so empty that hiding anything would be difficult. What about overhead? Xue Liangliang looked up. It was a standard old-fashioned wooden roof beam design, far out of reach to inspect unless he found tools. Search those houses for tools? The moment he pictured the women sitting behind those doors, a chill ran down his spine. Having to walk past them and rummage through their rooms... he would rather stay right here. "Huh?" Yet having completed the loop and returned to the entrance, Xue Liangliang was startled to find that the woman who had been kneeling there cradling the porcelain vase was gone. The vase had vanished as well. This sudden change plunged him into renewed terror. The woman he had followed all this way had become the most familiar "thing" to him here. Her disappearance cast him back into helpless isolation. He wanted to look for her, to see if she had moved to kneel elsewhere or gone somewhere else. But as he prepared to step toward the doorway, while still some distance away, that suffocating sensation struck again! Yet before, simply stepping inside the room had dispelled it. Xue Liangliang took a deep breath of nonexistent air and bolted for the door with all his might. The suffocation surged back with terrifying force, but he endured the agony and burst out of the room. Looking around, there was no sign of her. She was truly gone; she was no longer here. At the same time, the outer gates of the ancestral hall had closed shut without him realizing it. He had reached his limit; he didn't even have the strength to run out into the courtyard. He could only rush back inside, his footing growing unsteady until he tumbled to the ground, his body curling like a dried shrimp being wrung of every drop of moisture. At last, he crawled back to the edge of the coffin. The suffocation receded, and salvation returned. Yet looking up at the underside of the coffin above, he couldn't help doubting: was this truly salvation? After recovering for a short while, he climbed to his feet and tentatively stepped to the side. To his horror, the moment he strayed a short distance from the coffin, the suffocation returned, faster and more violent than before. Yet earlier, he had been able to walk along the walls and touch the bricks. This meant his range of movement had shrunk once again. He came to the head of the coffin, and his vision suddenly blurred. He seemed to see someone sitting in the grandmaster chair facing the coffin. When he focused his gaze, however, the figure was gone. No, his eyes hadn't played tricks on him. That might happen elsewhere, but never here! Xue Liangliang circled the coffin once more, then darted back to the head of the coffin. This time, he saw it clearly. Someone was indeed sitting in the grandmaster chair—and that person was himself! Xue Liangliang clenched his fists, feeling on the verge of madness. He could not comprehend why someone who looked identical to him was sitting there. If that person was Xue Liangliang, then who was he? He reached up to touch his face, finding the texture no different from usual. Confirming he was still himself, he looked up again, only to find the chair empty once more. Though running around the coffin again would likely reveal the figure in the chair once more, Xue Liangliang lacked the courage to do it. Besides, he could no longer do so anyway. The suffocation had returned. Even with one hand braced against the coffin, the choking sensation bore down upon him. It was shrinking. He had been standing inside an invisible underwater bubble; before, it had been moving, but now it was contracting. Once he lost its protection, he would never find another breath of respite. Xue Liangliang pressed himself against the coffin. He discovered that the closer his face came to it, the weaker the suffocation grew. Gradually, though, he realized it wasn't enough. The suffocation was steadily intensifying. No, this couldn't happen... Xue Liangliang placed a foot on the frame below, gripped the rim of the coffin, and began to climb. Once he hauled himself up, relief returned. He had successfully escaped the suffocation's pursuit once more. Yet when he looked down into the coffin, his gaze froze instantly, his mouth dropped open, and his arms gave out, sending him crashing down. He had seen it: someone was lying inside that coffin! A woman in red robes, her face covered in a red veil, her hands resting upon her lower abdomen! The pain from the fall was secondary; the true horror was being enveloped once more by the suffocating grip. Earlier, Xue Liangliang had still been able to run outside to search for the woman, but now, the moment he left his safe zone, it was utterly unbearable. If before it had merely been suffocation, now it felt as though a pair of invisible, monstrous hands was wrenching his neck with terrifying force. What he endured was no longer just the torment of breathless choking, but the visceral pain of his neck being twisted and crushed. Xue Liangliang scrambled up at once, planted his feet on the frame, gripped the edge of the coffin, and hoisted himself up. Spurred by overwhelming agony, he conquered his inner terror merely to find a fleeting moment of comfort. Even though that comfort would likely not last long. He tried his best not to look at the woman lying in the coffin, shifting his gaze downward toward the head of the coffin. He saw it again: himself, back in the grandmaster chair. Only this time, the reflection in the chair was dressed differently from his current self. That figure wore a black jacket with a flowing sheen, purple trousers, a cap on his head, and a red silk rosette pinned to his chest. Very much like... the attire of an old-fashioned groom. That identical face terrified Xue Liangliang so much that tears welled in his eyes. At this moment, the self in the chair seemed far more terrifying than the woman in the coffin. So he looked down at the woman. When he had entered the town earlier, every woman behind the doors of those dwellings had been seated without exception. This woman was lying down, and she lay at the very core, the very center of the ancestral hall. Just then, the suffocation returned. Xue Liangliang felt like livestock being driven by a whip. Though he already suspected the truth, he still craned his neck upward, left, and right, testing the shifts in the suffocation's intensity. In the end, his guess proved right: only the interior of the coffin was safe. His hands gripped the edge of the coffin with white-knuckled desperation, waging a final internal struggle. Yet the relentlessly closing, intensifying suffocation drastically shortened his hesitation. Exerting strength from his waist, he hooked one foot over the rim and reached down with both hands to grip the inner wall of the coffin. His intention had been merely to lean his upper body inside, keeping as much distance from the woman as possible. Yet he had overestimated his remaining strength. By the time he managed to heave himself over, he had no energy left to maintain his balance. Losing control, he tumbled headlong into the coffin. He crashed right onto the woman. Her body was freezing cold and intensely slimy. Yet it wasn't an ordinary slickness; it felt more like a jellyfish or some strange secretion—nauseating in a way that revolted every physiological instinct. Right at that moment, Xue Liangliang discovered with horror that the woman before him was slowly lifting her head. With her movement, the red veil covering her face gently slipped away. *Hum! Hum! Hum!* On the Baijia Town archway, the white lanterns on one side suddenly turned crimson. Radiating outward from there, every candle inside the doorway niches across the entire town shifted from eerie green to crimson, brimming with a festive air that was both sinister and chilling. *Creak...* *Creak...* The closed doors of the dwellings were pushed slowly open from within. And the women who had already been sitting inside their open doorways rose slowly to their feet. Soon, women of different ages, clad in attire from different eras, filed out of their homes. Stepping over the stone slabs above the drainage channels, they gathered along the roadsides. Emerging from dwellings across the town, they fell into line, moving forward at an identical pace. They all converged in a single direction: the ancestral hall at the center of the town. Though their eyes remained closed and not a single mouth opened, rustling whispers steadily rose throughout the town. At first, the sound was faint and disorganized, but gradually it grew louder and fell into cadence. Until finally, it unified into a single chant, echoing over Baijia Town like a chorus of spirits: "The Heavenly Official grants blessings; the Bai family takes a groom!" *** "Hello, this is Li Zhuiyuan." "Hello. Do you know Xue Liangliang?" "I do." "Your voice sounds familiar. My surname is Luo. Have we met before?" "Are you... Director Luo? I'm the kid who was with Brother Liangliang yesterday." "Oh, it's you." "Director Luo, did something happen?" "Something happened to Liangliang. While unconscious, he kept muttering 'Xiao Yuan' and gave this phone number." "Brother Liangliang? What happened to him?" "He fell overboard into the river. He's being resuscitated at the hospital right now, and the doctors say his condition is very critical." "Can I come see him?" "Yes. I'll send a car to pick you up right away. Give me your exact location." "Shijia Bridge in Shinan Town. We'll wait for the car there." "All right." After hanging up the receiver, Li Zhuiyuan immediately raised his arm. The mark had vanished long ago and showed no signs of returning now. So what was happening to Brother Liangliang? Could that Lady Bai still be holding a grudge, coming back to retaliate against him? That shouldn't be possible. Hadn't the karmic tie already been severed? Li Zhuiyuan fished some pocket money from his pocket and said to Aunt Zhang, "Auntie Zhang, I need a pack of cigarettes for my great-grandpa, and some candy." "Sure thing, I'll get them for you... here, that's just right." "Thank you, Auntie Zhang." Li Zhuiyuan slipped the cigarettes and candy into his pocket, walking home with a heavy expression. He had a faint sense that this was connected to Lady Bai, and was definitely no simple case of accidental drowning. Otherwise, Brother Liangliang wouldn't have murmured his name and phone number in his delirium. Most importantly, if the situation weren't thoroughly uncanny, Engineer Luo wouldn't have dispatched a car in the middle of the night to fetch a child like him; he had to be desperately anxious as well. Returning to the courtyard, Auntie Liu was clearing the bowls and chopsticks, while Uncle Qin chopped firewood—chores delayed by watching the movie. The light was on in the east room, but the door remained shut. Liu Yumei and A-Li were likely inside. Liu Yumei's spirits had been terrible ever since they finished watching the film tonight. Li Zhuiyuan walked up to Uncle Qin and said, "Uncle Qin." "Xiao Yuan, what's up?" "If someone knocked over a soy sauce bottle in another house, would you reach out and set it upright?" Uncle Qin: "..." "The college student who stayed with us last night had an accident. He's in the hospital right now being resuscitated. "I won't tell anyone about this, and I definitely won't tell Great-Grandpa. So, Uncle Qin, can you lend a hand?" Uncle Qin patted his pocket and pulled out some money. "Xiao Yuan, do you need to pay his medical bills? Your uncle has a bit here. In a moment I'll ask your aunt for some more, and we'll take it all to your friend." "All right... thank you, Uncle Qin." Li Zhuiyuan could only nod. It seemed he would have to wake his great-grandpa and ask for his counsel. Still, his great-grandpa probably wouldn't have much of a solution either, having shown caution toward Lady Bai the other day and chosen to step aside. Just then, the door of the east room opened from within. Having already changed into sleepwear, Liu Yumei walked out with her hair down, the rims of her eyes still very red. "A-Li, go with Xiao Yuan to the hospital and deliver the money." "All right, I understand." Li Zhuiyuan looked at Liu Yumei in surprise. He had only brought it up on a whim; he hadn't expected her to agree so readily this time. "Xiao Yuan, wait a moment. I'll go push the bicycle out." "No need, Uncle Qin. We'll wait on the bridge south of the village road; a car is coming to pick us up." "Oh, that's good then. Let's go. If we get back late and your great-grandpa wakes up, your Auntie Liu will explain things to him. Don't worry." "Mm." "Do you need to grab anything?" "No, we can go right now." Before leaving, Li Zhuiyuan bowed to Liu Yumei. "Thank you, Grandma." Liu Yumei gave no response, turning back into the room. After Li Zhuiyuan and Uncle Qin departed, Auntie Liu carried in a basin of hot water, set it on the stand, picked up a comb, and walked over to Liu Yumei's side to tend to her hair. The wheel of time rolled mercilessly over everyone. Last year, Liu Yumei's hair had been merely silver-gray, but now, only the outer layer retained that shade; when parted with a comb, soft white hair lay underneath. As Auntie Liu combed, a faint choke crept into her voice. "What are you crying for?" "I'm not crying." "Heh." Liu Yumei placed the ancestral tablet she had just finished wiping back in its spot. "I just want to know why you agreed this time. "Even if Uncle Sanjiang knows nothing about it and it truly has nothing to do with him, Xiao Yuan still lives here after all, and he's of Uncle Sanjiang's clan. If something goes wrong..." "Of course I know what might go wrong." Liu Yumei looked at the rows of memorial tablets before her. "But I'm in a foul mood today, and for now I don't care to worry about what might go wrong." Auntie Liu combed in silence, offering no reply. Liu Yumei's voice suddenly rose. "What, has this old woman grown so decrepit she isn't even entitled to indulge a whim?" "No, you are, of course you are!" Liu Yumei rose to her feet, pointing an agitated finger at the memorial tablets. "That bunch of fools! Back then, they took their fleet and vanished just like that, without so much as a word of warning. Both families kept the truth hidden from me together! "Fine, each and every one of them was noble and generous, dying until not a single soul was left! When they left me behind as an isolated widow and orphan, did they ever spare a thought for me? "They weren't even willing to leave behind a shred of their spirits, sacrificing everything away, leaving me to stare at these lifeless tablets for decades without a living soul to speak to! "Why should they be the only ones allowed to be reckless, while I have to tiptoe around this place year after year, terrified that the slightest misstep will trigger a karmic backlash on our blessings? "It isn't fair..." As she spoke, tears spilled from Liu Yumei's eyes. She braced one hand against the offering table and covered her face with the other. Auntie Liu's heart ached for her, yet she had no idea how to comfort her. After a short while, Liu Yumei lowered her hand and looked up at the tablets again, letting out a laugh. "Heh, see that? Do you see? You're gone, and how long has it been? Even the white rats at the bottom of the river dare to crawl ashore and disgust people." Her expression hardened into solemn severity, her eyes turning piercingly sharp. "Then I'll slap them right back down. "I'll remind them "just whose family rules this river!"