Liu Ting walked smiling into the pavilion. She still wore the same kind of clothes she had worn at Li Sanjiang's home—plain, loose, and practical for chores. Anyone who didn't know better might have mistaken her for an unruly cook wandering out from the clubhouse kitchen.
"I heard Xiaoyuan is here?"
Liu Yumei tilted her head slightly toward the southwest corner. Following her gaze, Liu Ting saw the boy and girl sitting close together on a stone bench. At that vantage point, with the lotus pond to their left and an elevated view of Shancheng to their right, it was a truly splendid spot to take in the scenery.
The boy was speaking with animated absorption.
The girl sat turned toward him, cupping her chin in both hands, her bright, sparkling eyes fixed on him as she listened intently.
Whenever the boy smiled, the corners of her mouth curled up in response; when the boy reached an exciting point and his hands spread wide, the girl gently bobbed her head in sync.
In everyday life in the past, the boy had given Liu Ting the impression of being adorable and lively on the surface, yet steeped down to his bones in a mature composure unbefitting his age. He would play with his peers, but anyone with discerning eyes could still detect a subtle detachment—a sort of top-down tolerance.
Now, he was actually behaving just like a little village boy, perching on a haystack and eagerly confiding, "I'll tell you a secret, but you must promise not to tell anyone, okay? Let me tell you, yesterday..."
As for her own Ah Li, where was any trace of how she used to be? No, the truth was that before the boy arrived, she had remained cold and aloof; but the moment he came, she became like an ordinary, innocent little sister, forever curious about and admiring the stories told by the older brother from the courtyard.
Liu Ting sighed with emotion. "Our Ah Li and Xiaoyuan really get along surprisingly well."
"Hmph, children are all like that."
Liu Ting merely covered her mouth with a soft chuckle, not daring to poke fun and ask: *Which family's children are like these two?*
She was well aware of the old lady's obstinate streak, but that didn't stop her from quietly enjoying the show, wondering how long the old lady could keep up her stubborn facade.
"When I came over earlier, I saw a woman making a scene in the front hall," Liu Ting said. "It's Old Second Ding's youngest son. He just divorced his proper wife to promote a pregnant mistress, and today was supposed to be her formal presentation to the family."
Liu Yumei asked, "And Old Second Ding was actually willing to receive her?"
"He wasn't willing at first, but his youngest son begged and pleaded, and unable to talk him out of it, he gave in."
"Then this Ding family won't have many good years left. When Old Ding was around, he could at least uphold some semblance of propriety. Now that Old Ding is gone, this grand facade of theirs isn't far from crumbling. What a ridiculous joke—even the shameful act of doting on a concubine and deposing a lawful wife is dragged into broad daylight."
"Listen to you—times have changed, after all."
"Yes, times have changed, but certain principles never change. You cannot reap the benefits of the old ways while clamoring for the freedom of the new. A person's legs being long or short matters little, but if those two legs try to walk in opposite directions, you're bound to fall flat on your face."
"Old Second Ding dropped me a hint, hoping you would do him the honor of taking a cup of tea offered by the younger generation."
"Take tea?"
Liu Yumei gave a faint smile and pointed toward the boy and girl, who had finished chatting and were now playing an imaginary game of chess across the air. "Call the two children over. It's time for dinner."
Liu Ting turned around, stepped to the edge of the pavilion, and called out, "Time for dinner!"
Li Zhuiyuan promptly "resigned," conceding defeat, and took the girl's hand as they stood up.
Having been away from home for days, the boy felt as though he could hear nostalgia in Auntie Liu's familiar call.
Passing the lotus pond, they followed a winding path through an open-air stone gateway. Inside, stone pedestals held a variety of potted penjing, each meticulously pruned and artistically styled, clearly maintained by dedicated hands.
Along the way, Auntie Liu took the initiative to explain everything to Li Zhuiyuan, like a guide showing him around a scenic park.
Reaching the far end, they came upon two flights of stone stairs, one ascending and the other descending. Old Second Ding was leading a flock of sons briskly down from above.
His elder brother had originally had a son and a daughter, but both had passed away before the old man, so the Ding family had long been sustained by the second branch.
Old Second Ding had five sons born of three different wives. The vast age gaps among the wives had led to even greater gaps among the sons; Old Second Ding's eldest grandson was two years older than his youngest son.
The closer he drew to Liu Yumei, the broader Old Second Ding's smile became—verging on groveling—and the lower he bowed his body.
"Young Mistress."
Addressing her like this hardly suited Liu Yumei's age. But Li Zhuiyuan caught on: the Ding family had likely belonged to the old Qin clan faction.
It was like visiting a married couple: if you were closer to the husband, you called the wife sister-in-law; if you were closer to the wife, you called the husband brother-in-law.
"Young Mistress hasn't left home in so long, and it's rare for you to grace us with your presence. I brought the family youngsters to pay their respects to you, Young Mistress. Please come up to the main hall and take a seat, so the youngsters may serve tea to Young Mistress."
The second-generation sons stepped forward in unison and lined up, ingratiating smiles plastered across their faces.
As for the female relatives, they remained at the top of the stairs, standing in a row as well. The others were dressed with decorum, hands neatly folded in front of them, except for the one at the very end—she sported wavy perm curls, heavy and gaudy makeup, a handbag in her left hand, and a beaded bracelet dangling from her right wrist.
She stood out like a crane among chickens. Yet those "proper" chickens were hardly any better in Liu Yumei's eyes. They could have taught her but didn't; they could have guided her but stayed silent, deliberately letting her make a fool of herself before an outside guest.
Infighting behind closed doors was ordinary enough, but airing dirty laundry out in the open only showed that this family's rules had rotted to the core.
"No need. Nothing but misshapen melons and cracked dates—not worth seeing."
These words truly spared not an ounce of face. Many present turned pale.
Both Old Second Ding and his eldest son showed sheer panic.
The other sons looked sullen, especially the youngest, whose mouth opened as if to curse, only to be yanked back by his eldest brother.
The women standing above heaved their chests, murmuring under their breath under the safety of distance. Permed Curls, thinking she had found the perfect opportunity to blend in with her sisters-in-law, immediately raised her voice:
"My, I wondered which family's grand lady this was! What tremendous airs! You come here, eating their food and staying under their roof, yet you dare walk all over them!"
*Thud!*
Old Second Ding dropped to his knees in terror.
The eldest son knelt too, just a beat slower—after all, he wasn't as practiced at kneeling as his father.
Seeing this, the remaining sons were momentarily stunned, then followed suit one after another. Even the youngest son, who had looked the most indignant earlier, finally came to his senses and knelt with them.
At the rear, Permed Curls, who had just spoken out, stood with her mouth hanging open, unable to utter a sound. She realized she had poked a hornets' nest.
Old Second Ding immediately snarled at his youngest son, "Tell that bitch she will never step foot through the Ding family gates for the rest of her life! And the child in her belly will never bear the Ding surname!"
Hearing this, the youngest son didn't dare utter a single objection.
Old Second Ding looked up toward Liu Yumei. "Young Mistress, I..."
"I have no interest in your family's mess. Better that we go pay respects to your brother."
Liu Yumei stepped around the group kneeling before her and walked down the stairs. From start to finish, she did not spare Permed Curls a single glance. Summer cicadas were indeed irritating, but who had the time to hunt down exactly which cicada was buzzing?
Below was a relatively spacious terrace. In the front hall stood several round tables where a group of old men sat, each with a person standing behind him.
The closer an elder sat to the head seat, the younger the person behind him was—clearly from the grandchild generation. Flanking the empty head seat, the two elders actually had a grandson and a granddaughter behind them, roughly the same age as Ah Li.
The farther down an elder sat, the older the person behind him tended to be; some were clearly of the son generation, with streaks of white in their hair.
The ancestral origins of the Qin and Liu families lay along the river, but by all accounts, Shancheng had always been one of their old homes. The people gathered here were all former "kin and companions" of the two families in the Shancheng region.
The moment Liu Yumei arrived, everyone rose to their feet, tossing aside their canes and waving off the supporting hands of the youngsters behind them.
Some leaned forward with their right arms extended in traditional bows, some raised their thumbs in sect salutes, and others knelt outright like Old Second Ding just had. These diverse courtesies represented their distinct identities and ranks in the jianghu of the past.
Even their greetings were split into two kinds:
"Greetings to the Young Mistress."
"Greetings to the Eldest Miss."
Liu Yumei stopped and received their salutes.
Then she waved her hand and smiled faintly. "What era is this, still clinging to these old-fashioned ways? It's outdated. Outdated long ago."
Hearing this, smiles appeared on everyone's faces in accommodating agreement.
A few elders even looked back at the juniors they had brought along, bearing an almost childlike sense of showing off.
They too had long stopped using these traditional courtesies. First, they were indeed out of fashion; second, in their own households on ordinary days, there was simply no one who could command such respect from them.
Yet this bow brought back a rush of memories of years gone by, making them feel as if they had suddenly grown decades younger.
The two elders who had brought their young grandson and granddaughter spoke up one after another. "Eldest Miss, an old bag of bones like me only feels of any use when paying respects to you."
"Young Mistress, when it comes to flattery, I truly have to hand it to this old hound."
"Hahahaha!"
"Hahahaha!"
Liu Yumei rested her left hand on Ah Li's shoulder while leaning closer to Li Zhuiyuan. Pointing at the two old men, she introduced, "This one is Zhen Mubai, and that one is Su Wenluo."
Liu Yumei introduced only these two; clearly, none of the others qualified to have their names spoken by her.
Li Zhuiyuan smiled and gave a slight bow. "Greetings, Grandpa Zhen." Another slight bow: "Greetings, Grandpa Su." Finally, facing all the elders, he gave a deep bow: "Greetings, Grandpas."
The elders responded warmly in chorus, showering him with praise while privately wondering to themselves: *Who is this boy?*
They all knew the girl beside him was the sole surviving bloodline of the Qin and Liu families. Could this boy be a child-groom raised at her side? Yet the elders present had lived as long as river turtles; they could naturally recognize the aura of quiet composure—neither servile nor overbearing—emanating from the child.
Clothes were easily changed, but temperament was hard to disguise.
What could be taught and what stemmed genuinely from inner poise could never escape their eyes.
In truth, even Liu Yumei was quite surprised by the boy's reaction.
Her reason for having the boy greet them was simply that Ah Li could not yet speak.
Standing behind them, Liu Ting watched quietly, wondering how long her respected mistress could keep up her obstinacy.
An occasion like this was a handover of connections and an inheritance of old loyalties.
How could this possibly be the treatment given to a mere prospective nominal disciple?
"I'll go pay my respects to that old Ding fellow."
Liu Yumei passed through the front hall toward the rear hall, the elders following closely behind.
A mourning hall was set up in the rear hall. Cleaned and maintained with special care for Liu Yumei's arrival, it looked as though the deceased had passed only yesterday and funeral rites were underway, even though he had been gone over a month.
Just then, Old Second Ding rushed over from a side corridor with his eldest son.
Old Second Ding knelt on a prayer mat to return the courtesies, while his eldest son personally brought incense sticks forward.
Piecing together the reactions of the elders during the earlier greetings, Li Zhuiyuan deduced that the Ding family had likely been a retainer household of the Qin family in earlier years. Liu Yumei staying at the Ding residence meant entering a retainer's house, and as retainers, they naturally had to kneel before the master.
Though an antiquated custom, there were still old folks who adhered to it.
Of course, their adherence was certainly not out of respect for "traditional customs."
Li Zhuiyuan couldn't help feeling puzzled: with the Qin and Liu families so dwindled, what remained that could make these old men willingly bow their heads and pick up these old rituals?
Liu Yumei lit the incense sticks and inserted them into the incense burner.
Stepping back two paces, she looked at the prayer mat before her.
Old Second Ding immediately kowtowed. "Young Mistress, you must not! My brother could never bear a bow from you!" Many elders behind them chimed in, saying it went against propriety.
Liu Yumei did not insist on bowing. Instead, she looked at Li Zhuiyuan. "Xiaoyuan, Ah Li should have bowed on my behalf, but do trouble yourself to stand in for Ah Li. Old Ding was quite a man back then; even I had to regard him with respect."
"All right."
Li Zhuiyuan stepped forward and began the sacrificial rites.
Truth be told, even a veteran funeral master like Li Sanjiang could not have performed these rites nearly as professionally as the boy.
It couldn't be helped: one was of the local-custom school, while the other was of the rigorously researched scholarly tradition. All the books the boy had read had not been in vain.
Once the rites concluded, Old Second Ding began returning the courtesy. His left thumb stood erect while his right hand clasped it, rising upward before crossing horizontally before his chest, and finally swinging both arms down. This was a sect salute.
Liu Yumei was about to speak up, saying Xiaoyuan didn't know such things.
Yet the boy pointed his right little finger downward, clasped it with his left hand in a diving-fish motion, bent his arms before his chest, and nodded three times to receive the courtesy. The surrounding elders all looked on with admiration and nostalgia.
Doubt instantly flashed in Liu Yumei's eyes: *Who taught him that?*
In truth, the opening of the *Qin Clan Flood Dragon Contemplation Method* recorded this sequence. It was the internal sect salute of the Qin clan, derived from early gestures used to observe feng shui and weather. Similar practices existed in other trades, where hand gestures aligned with sightlines to measure distance and orientation without instruments.
Old Second Ding performed the subordinate salute: "Python Travels the Currents." Li Zhuiyuan returned the superior salute: "Flood Dragon Guards the Gate."
The boy naturally knew Liu Yumei would suspect something once he performed it. He did it deliberately: he had already received early admission to Haihe University, Ah Li was recovering better by the day, and sooner or later, his cards would have to be laid on the table.
He would eventually share his advanced understanding and insights into the *Qin Clan Flood Dragon Contemplation Method* and the *Liu Clan Qi-Gazing Formula* with Liu Yumei anyway.
Old Second Ding's face was bathed in tears. At least at this moment, he was not faking; it was genuine emotion.
For this scene reminded him of the days when he had followed his elder brother to pay respects to the masters of the Qin family. Back then he had still been small, and his elder brother had been in his prime.
A family patriarch unskilled at governance and easily swayed by his youngest son's familial wheedling was inherently somewhat muddled, and such men were sentimental and sensitive to their core.
At that moment, Zhen Mubai and Su Wenluo glanced toward another elder. Surnamed Sheng, he had sat at the lower end earlier and was originally from a retainer family of the Liu clan.
Old Man Sheng instinctively wiped the sweat from his brow, turned to the son beside him, and gestured, "Go on." His son, whose hair was already half-white, stepped out of the crowd and began performing the Liu clan sect salute toward Li Zhuiyuan.
Li Zhuiyuan noticed that Liu Yumei's eyes had narrowed slightly. Clearly, the old woman was displeased.
When a lion is probed, no matter how it reacts, in the eyes of onlookers, it has already shown weakness.
Such was the jianghu: big fish ate little fish, and little fish ate shrimp. Even with utmost deference on the surface, undercurrents churned underneath. Those two elders merely wanted to probe what role Liu Yumei had assigned to the boy, which was why they had prodded the Sheng family forward.
Liu Yumei's displeasure shifted into a smile. "Xiaoyuan, what are you standing there for? Return the salute."
Though she did not know where the boy had learned the Qin clan sect salute, Liu Yumei believed that since he knew the Qin clan's, there was no reason he wouldn't know the Liu clan's.
Hearing Grandma Liu speak, Li Zhuiyuan returned the superior salute to this gray-haired man.
The moment the salute concluded, both Zhen Mubai and Su Wenluo reflexively straightened their backs. The other elders behind them focused their attention in silence, reevaluating the boy with fresh eyes.
There was no doubt about it: to perform the sect salutes of both the Qin and Liu clans in public meant the Young Mistress—the Eldest Miss—intended for him to inherit the mantle of both families in the future.
Old Second Ding bowed and leaned close, asking in a low whisper, "Young Mistress, may we take our seats at the banquet?" Liu Yumei nodded.
Everyone took their places. The vacant head seat naturally went to Liu Yumei. The older generation occupied two tables, while the younger generation sat at the other two.
Li Zhuiyuan had originally intended to eat separately with Ah Li, but Auntie Liu came over and signaled for him to take a seat at the tables as well, leading Ah Li away instead.
For Ah Li's sake, Li Zhuiyuan could only take on the responsibility and sit down. He was placed in the head seat of his table, flanked by peers surnamed Zhen and Su, while everyone else was far older than the three of them.
The banquet was lively. The tables were close together, so conversation easily flowed back and forth between them.
The older generation's table was truly artful in their speech, while the younger generation attempted to imitate that art.
Li Zhuiyuan could tell they were deliberately fishing for information, beating around the bush to learn more about him. The young boy and girl at his sides affectionately called him "Brother Zhuiyuan" with every breath, yet their prying was the most thorough of all.
These two were precocious, convinced they had this peer wrapped around their fingers; after gleaning details, they unconsciously curled their lips, struggling to suppress smug expressions.
The questions were merely about daily trivia, and Li Zhuiyuan openly recounted the mundane details of his past life.
As he spoke, the old fellows at the neighboring table pricked up their ears, listening intently. But the more they heard, the more unnerved they became, their hearts pounding in alarm.
Children spoke without filter, but the details of life the boy mentioned—how could they possibly be within reach of ordinary children in the capital?
Suspicion rippled through their minds, and their exchanging glances confirmed each other's thoughts: *Could the Young Mistress—the Eldest Miss—truly have secured a marriage alliance with a powerful figure for her granddaughter?*
Liu Yumei was actually listening to the neighboring table as well. It was her first time hearing so many details, but knowing how sharp the boy's mind was, she suspected he might be deliberately toying with them—which was rather amusing.
Sipping three cups of liquor slowly down her throat, Liu Yumei overturned her cup. Drinking these three cups had already granted them tremendous face.
Overturning the cup carried an unmistakable message: the drinking was done, and words were finished.
This left everyone present exchanging bewildered glances. Before coming, they had each prepared a "gift roster"—shares and divisions of their own family businesses. If Liu Yumei wanted to prop up the mantle of the Qin and Liu families and emerge from seclusion, they would have had to surrender a pound of flesh.
Yet Liu Yumei's attitude clearly showed she would not broach business at all—meaning she had no intention of accepting gifts. Yet instead of feeling relieved at being spared from carving out their assets, every elder present was filled with dread.
They did not believe Liu Yumei had made a special trip solely to pay respects to Old Ding; after all, Old Ding had been buried for over a month. But if she wasn't here to re-establish her authority and stake her claim... she couldn't possibly have fabricated an excuse just to take a stroll through Shancheng, could she?
Liu Yumei stood up and called, "Xiaoyuan."
"Coming, Grandma." Li Zhuiyuan stood up and followed.
The moment the elder and the youth left the table, the old men rose to salute once more. Zhen Mubai and Su Wenluo dropped straight to their knees, shuffling forward on their knees. *We were only acting according to the old ways; even if you are angry, please don't overturn the table!*
"Young Mistress..."
"Eldest Miss..."
Liu Yumei swept them with an icy gaze, immediately choking off their words.
Next, she pointed at the overturned cup on the table.
Then, holding the boy's hand, she walked outward.
The elders left behind looked terrified and unsettled. Some expressed regret, some sighed softly, some pointed at Old Second Ding to scold him for poor hospitality, and others threw veiled barbs at Zhen Mubai and Su Wenluo.
The younger generation could only stand by and watch. Most of them were witnessing their family patriarchs looking so pitifully disheveled for the first time, as if offending that woman had poked a hole right through the heavens above.
Li Zhuiyuan walked alongside Liu Yumei. She didn't seem inclined to return straight to her room, instead strolling along the wooden railing by the cliff to clear her mind.
After a long while, Liu Yumei halted, gazing down at the myriad lights of Shancheng.
"You little brat, you performed well today. You make a fine figure to put on a dignified show."
"Because I had Grandma Liu backing me up."
In truth, during his time in the capital, although the relationship between Northern Grandma and Li Lan had been poor, Northern Grandma had genuinely adored him, taking him out to meet old comrades-in-arms whenever she had the chance.
"Heh, how could I back you up? Grandma's own back gave out long ago."
"Yet they are truly afraid of you."
"It isn't me they fear."
"Then are they afraid of the Qin and Liu families?"
"The tablets in the east room—haven't you seen them? Everyone is practically dead. There's only this solitary old woman and an orphan girl left. What Qin or Liu family is there anymore?"
This was precisely what puzzled Li Zhuiyuan. Having studied the *Qin Clan Flood Dragon Contemplation Method* and the *Liu Clan Qi-Gazing Formula*, he had no doubt that the Qin and Liu families had once held an exalted, transcendent standing on the river.
Yet nowadays, the main clan members were gone. How could an old grandmother who lived in seclusion to treat her granddaughter step out into the world and have all her former retainers and subordinates fall to their knees and bow in deference once more?
It made no sense at all.
Reality was not a wuxia novel. Favor and righteousness were lauded in the jianghu precisely because they were so exceedingly rare; not kicking you while you were down, or not swarming in to strip an heirless family down to the bone, was already enough to be called "unrivaled benevolence."
Yet miraculously, those people were genuinely afraid, and Grandma Liu was brimming with confidence.
Liu Yumei reached out and gently patted the boy's head, saying placidly:
"Half the tablets in the east room were erected when following Fourth Master to fight the Japanese; the other half were raised when crossing the great river."
After having a late-night snack with Ah Li, Li Zhuiyuan was escorted into a car to return to the hotel.
As the car drove along the riverside, the boy gazed through the window at the surface of the river under the night sky; it was very calm now.
Getting out of the car in front of the hotel lobby, he was about to head inside when he spotted Xue Liangliang sitting by a flowerbed.
"Xiaoyuan, you're back."
"Brother Liangliang, what are you doing here...?"
"Runsheng and Binbin went out this afternoon and haven't returned yet. I couldn't pull myself away, worried no one would be here when you came back. Now that you're here, let's head out together to find them."
"Okay."
After all, they were two grown people, and with Runsheng around, there was little need to worry about any accidents.
Though they called it searching, it was practically a stroll.
Xue Liangliang spoke about his new job. He could stay in Shancheng for another two days before heading down to Wanzhou.
A project there was currently in the site-survey phase; he was going to join and learn, and Engineer Luo Tingrui had also instructed him to bring his junior brother along.
Hearing the title "junior brother" for the first time, Li Zhuiyuan was still somewhat unaccustomed to it—especially when Xue Liangliang described him as Engineer Luo's "last disciple." The boy knew this was a binary choice: if he couldn't get used to having a "master," he would have to get used to a dull, tedious college life. Xue Liangliang even teased him dramatically: *Just look at you, you can't even date in college.*
Li Zhuiyuan had retorted: *Did you date someone in college, then?*
Walking and chatting like this, without frantically scouring the streets, they happened to run into Tan Wenbin and Runsheng returning together, both looking thrilled and cheerful.
Xue Liangliang found a roadside barbecue stall and ordered three bottles of beer and a bottle of soy milk. As the four ate and chatted, they learned what Tan Wenbin and Runsheng had been up to from the afternoon until now.
After leaving the hotel in the afternoon, the two had strolled around Guanyinqiao. Though Nantong had an urban center, its population was far smaller than Shancheng's, nowhere near as bustling. By the time they grew tired of wandering, night had fallen. They grabbed a bite at a roadside stall to line their stomachs and asked the vendor where to have some fun nearby.
Following the vendor's suggestion, the two arrived before a commercial building. Hearing the sharp clack of billiard balls from a distance, Tan Wenbin proposed teaching Runsheng how to play pool. Entering the building, they saw the billiard parlor's sign: *Midnight Strike*.
They rented a table. As they played, they noticed a steady stream of people entering the hall and heading up to the second floor, accompanied by music drifting down the staircase. Driven by curiosity, the two went up to see. Tickets were sold at the entrance, fairly cheap; buying two tickets and stepping inside, they found it packed with people.
A large crowd of men and women were dancing on the floor, not spread out, but each holding their dance partner, packing tightly into the throng.
When a song ended, the lights would flicker on briefly. Those who didn't want to keep dancing would step aside; the man would pay the woman, the woman would stand along the outer perimeter, and the man would wander about searching for a new partner he fancied.
When the next song began, the lights went dark again.
Xue Liangliang asked if they went in and danced, and both shook their heads.
They were too thin-skinned and embarrassed, sitting on chairs along the wall and watching the entire time. Their only expense besides the tickets was ordering two cups of tea, and they even had the counter refill two carafes of hot water.
Hearing this, Xue Liangliang doubled over with laughter.
After chatting, they returned to the hotel to rest. Over the next two days, Xue Liangliang took them sightseeing across many Shancheng attractions, eating hot pot and rabbit meat, and even riding the Yangtze River Cableway.
As the river waters surged beneath his feet, Li Zhuiyuan felt a sense of mystery and awe.
Yet what the four found most enjoyable during these two nights was that after office hours, Xue Liangliang would pull some strings at his work unit to borrow a car and take everyone cruising through downtown Shancheng.
Driving with one arm out the window, Xue Liangliang pointed out future plans at every turn, explaining what new bridge would be built here, what developments would take place there, and how prosperous Shancheng would become in the years ahead.
He had likely read government planning materials, but much of what he said was also his own imaginative vision; he genuinely saw himself as a designer of the city's future, sharing his inner blueprints with his friends.
At moments like these, Xue Liangliang seemed to possess a unique charisma. It was easy to get swept into his vision: the static scenery before them fast-forwarding, bridges spanning rivers, highways rolling out, skyscrapers rising from the earth, the entire city changing day by day right before their eyes.
Whenever they finished driving, Xue Liangliang would fill the tank before returning the car to the work unit.
Before leaving Shancheng, the four visited Jiefangbei and had another round of hot pot nearby.
Li Zhuiyuan had originally thought he disliked spicy food, as did Tan Wenbin, but after having it a few more times, they found themselves hooked. It was as if spiciness was only the exterior of Shancheng hot pot, while its core was pure fragrance.
The car to Wanzhou was also dispatched by the work unit, with Xue Liangliang once again behind the wheel. The difference was that this time, fuel costs for the trip could be reimbursed.
Once out of urban Shancheng, the scenery along the route was breathtakingly picturesque, though the roads were rough. Furthermore, their destination was not Wanzhou's urban core, but down in a rural area subordinate to it. On the final stretch, because it had rained the night before, the wheels sank into a muddy ditch; fortunately, Runsheng was there to shove the car right out so they could drive on.
It was late at night when they reached the work site. Although the town guesthouse was rather spartan, the rooms were spacious.
Li Zhuiyuan pushed open the window. Directly below was a river. Even though people in Nantong liked building homes alongside rivers, those were gentle streams, nothing like these churning rapids. An avid angler could sit right inside the room, cast a line out the window, and wait for a bite while sipping tea and listening to the radio.
Xue Liangliang went downstairs and returned shortly, saying a meeting was still underway and asking if he wanted to sit in. Li Zhuiyuan naturally agreed, accompanying Xue Liangliang down to the conference room on the guesthouse's first floor.
Here, the tables and walls were covered with blueprints. A group of people had split into two factions and were arguing heatedly, faces flushed red, slamming the table multiple times until flakes of red paint peeled off the already battered surface.
Midway through, the leaders of both sides tacitly paused, some taking sips of water and others grabbing bites to eat. But by the look of it, things were far from settled; they would have to have another row before they could turn in, or the frustration would linger and keep them tossing and turning in regret.
Xue Liangliang did not join the dispute, merely sitting off to the side and listening attentively. Li Zhuiyuan, curious about the blueprints, studied them intently.
At last, having argued to their hearts' content, both sides agreed to draft their own respective proposals and submit them to superiors for the final decision.
Early the next morning, a whistle blew, followed by banging on doors and shouts urging everyone out of bed to head into the field.
Xue Liangliang held an official position, and though Li Zhuiyuan had yet to matriculate, he held semi-official standing. As for Runsheng and Tan Wenbin, the survey team welcomed them warmly—after all, who wouldn't want two extra hands for heavy lifting?
Setting out this time, in addition to equipment, they carried tents and rations.
The road in that direction was under construction; once the vehicles could go no further, everyone shouldered their gear and trekked on foot. It wasn't terribly far, yet hardly close either, mostly because the terrain was treacherous—they had to wade across streams, cross ravines, and scramble over several knolls.
This made Li Zhuiyuan reflect: Mount Lang, treasured like a jewel back in Nantong, would be nothing more than a minor ridge marked by a string of elevation figures on a blueprint here in the real mountains.
Upon arriving at the site, they set up camp first, lit fires to boil water, and ate biscuits with canned rations.
Work commenced shortly after. Li Zhuiyuan and the other two followed Xue Liangliang to a slope and began surveying.
The boy picked things up swiftly. Tan Wenbin found it a bit grueling, but remained enthusiastic—after all, he was determined to pursue this field in the future. At nightfall, they packed up and returned to camp, where Deputy Team Leader Ma Yiming convened a session to compile data and hold a provisional briefing.
The second day was a repeat of the first: the four-man team was dispatched to another point to record data. By noon, they paused, sitting beside a large boulder to eat and rest.
Xue Liangliang teased Tan Wenbin with a grin, saying there was still time to change his mind, but Tan Wenbin instantly shook his head to reaffirm his resolve.
"That's how our work is," Xue Liangliang said. "Whether in the surveying and design phase or during construction, it's day after day of monotonous repetition. Only on the day the project is completed can you wake as if from a dream and taste the romance unique to us."
That afternoon, after a day and a half of learning and experimenting, Li Zhuiyuan demonstrated an entirely different kind of romance to Xue Liangliang.
He incorporated feng shui observation methods into the survey work. When Xue Liangliang set up his instruments to verify the calculations, he discovered the margin of error fell well within allowable limits; for a moment, he couldn't even tell which set of data was more accurate.
Still, relying purely on feng shui techniques to record data left Xue Liangliang feeling uneasy. Yet ignoring such a shortcut seemed foolish. In the end, he devised a compromise: use Xiaoyuan's figures first, then run verifications and checks on them. This guaranteed accuracy while slashing a massive amount of tedious groundwork.
Unfortunately, such a method could never be popularized. It merely allowed their own little squad to slack off in secret. With the other teams stationed elsewhere, they couldn't help them anyway. So come dusk, Xue Liangliang took the three down to the stream to catch fish.
The others were mere cheerleaders; Runsheng took a plunge into the deep pool and flung fish up one by one onto the bank. The four gutted and cleaned the fish right by the stream, returned to camp before dark, set up a pot, and brewed fish soup.
Teams returned one after another, everyone drifting over with grins. Although the weather wasn't too cold yet, coming back from a day of grueling labor to a piping-hot bowl of fresh fish soup was sheer bliss.
The broth was simmered to a milky white. Three large ladles hung there for people to serve themselves.
Li Zhuiyuan picked up his bowl, added a dash of pepper and a splash of vinegar, and cradled the metal mess tin, sipping slowly.
Time trickled by. It was almost time to turn in, yet the atmosphere in the camp grew increasingly restless—one team had still not returned.
Ma Yiming had already gone out searching personally, but found nothing. By rights, the assigned spots were not far from camp, and everyone was equipped with flashlights; even if an accident occurred, aiming a beam toward the sky would produce a pillar of light visible from miles away.
Left with no choice, Ma Yiming mobilized everyone to search together.
Wading across two streams, cutting through a gully, and climbing up brought them to that team's survey station.
Beams of flashlights swept the slopes as shouts echoed all around, yet of this three-man team, not only were the people gone, but even their surveying instruments were nowhere to be found.
Ma Yiming cursed, "Damn it, what the hell is this!"
If this were a hazardous environment, an accident would at least be within expectations; people would be mentally prepared. But here, the greatest risk was twisting an ankle while climbing slopes or crossing streams.
How could three grown men vanish into thin air?
The survey party was then split into two groups: one searched upstream along the stream bank, and the other headed downstream.
Xue Liangliang's team was assigned upstream. After advancing some distance alongside several other squads, they naturally diverged, communicating via flashlight signals.
"Xiaoyuan, let me carry you," Runsheng offered.
"No need, Brother Runsheng."
"Where on earth could they have gone?" Tan Wenbin said, utterly perplexed. "Their survey area is even shallower than ours; we at least had deep pools, while the stream here barely reaches the ankles. They couldn't have been washed away."
Runsheng asked, "Could there be wild beasts here?"
Xue Liangliang shook his head. "Team Leader Ma specifically asked the locals beforehand. There are no dangerous beasts roaming around here. Besides, even if there were, a beast couldn't drag off three grown men at once. Even if it ate them on the spot, there would be plenty of traces."
Just then, flashlight signals blinked from the distance.
Xue Liangliang waved his hand. "Come on, let's check over there." Nearby squads converged toward the flashing light.
Arriving at the spot, beneath a massive rock, they found a cap and a trekking pole snapped in two, confirmed to belong to members of the missing team.
Xue Liangliang shone his flashlight carefully, then crouched and wedged himself beside the boulder, laying his own trekking pole horizontally against the gap between the rock and the ground. He called out at once, "Check if there are any marks over there—look closely!"
"Yes, found one! A white scrape mark!"
After examining and confirming the scratch, Xue Liangliang squatted back down, shining his light on small stones on the ground, picking up several to sniff both sides.
"Look further ahead! See if the small and medium stones on the ground have been overturned—check the differences in color and smell for any fishy foul odor."
Everyone followed his instructions immediately.
Soon, several people reported finding them.
At that moment, the implication dawned on everyone, conjuring an identical scene in their minds: something had dragged a team member across the ground, and as he passed this spot, he tried to wedge his trekking pole between the boulder and the earth to stop himself, but whatever had him possessed such terrifying strength that it snapped the pole clean in half.
Someone blurted out, "What kind of person could do that?"
Xue Liangliang shook his head. "It wasn't a person. A person wouldn't need to use brute force like this."
"What is this?" Another person made a new discovery nearby, picking up a smooth object half the size of a palm from the ground. When the flashlight illuminated it, light shone faintly through; it looked like glass, yet the texture was distinctly different.
It was passed along the line, but no one could identify it. When it reached Li Zhuiyuan, the boy held it under his nose and sniffed, then passed it to Runsheng. Runsheng caught his drift and lowered his head to sniff it too.
"Xiaoyuan, it smells of muddy fishiness."
"Muddy fishiness?" Xue Liangliang frowned at Li Zhuiyuan. "Xiaoyuan, can you tell what it is?"
Li Zhuiyuan replied, "Could it be a snake scale?"
The speculation was chilling. If a scale half the size of a palm belonged to a snake, just how enormous would the serpent's body have to be?
Several people around them scoffed, thinking that while the kid was brilliant enough to gain early college admission, his imagination was running wild.
Someone suggested that since they had found dropped items, they should push forward. This proposal quickly garnered agreement from most, and the group resumed their march upstream along the slope.
Li Zhuiyuan tugged on Xue Liangliang's sleeve. "Brother Liangliang, I don't think we should go any further. If we go, we should wait until daybreak."
Xue Liangliang sighed helplessly. "If we don't find them before dawn, we'll have to halt operations, report to the police, and ask the police and local government to mobilize nearby villagers to help search. Besides, they only just went missing; whatever happened, right now is the golden window for rescue.
"Most importantly, Xiaoyuan, everyone here is senior to me. My words carry no weight.
"How about this: Runsheng, Binbin, you two stay here with Xiaoyuan or head back to camp first. You aren't official members of the expedition."
His unspoken meaning was clear: he had to continue searching. There was no avoiding it—his colleagues were missing, and he had no excuse to abandon the rescue, even if... he knew danger might lie ahead.
"Sigh, let's go together," Li Zhuiyuan said. "Tell everyone to sweep the ground with their flashlights more often, to see if anything reflects light and find more scales like this."
"Yeah, all right."
The group pressed forward with their search. The further up they went, the steeper the slope on the left became, and the deeper the water on the right flowed. Everyone could only march along the flat stretch of gravel beach between them.
Yet while no more scales were found, they spotted a shoe in a small depression, accompanied by traces of fresh blood around it.
This was the first confirmation that someone among the missing team was injured.
Ahead, someone shouted, "There's a cave entrance here!"
Everyone hurried over. Sure enough, on the left slope, a cave entrance twice the height of a man yawned open. When flashlights shone inside, the beams quickly hit a rock wall.
At first they thought the cave was shallow, but when someone directed a flashlight downward, they discovered a gaping subterranean pit in the center of the cavern, pitch-black.
Something seemed to be snagged on the sharp stone spurs along the rim of the dark pit. Yet faced with this unknown abyss, misgivings stirred in everyone's hearts, and no one dared to be the first to enter and investigate.
Squeezing past the people in front, Xue Liangliang stepped into the cave first. Carefully edging toward the brink of the pit, he reached out and snagged the object. It was a strip of fabric torn from clothing—evidently from the chest of a uniform—bearing the remnant of a name: "Feng Zhigao," one of the missing men.
When Xue Liangliang brought the scrap outside, everyone gathered to examine it.
"So they're down there?"
"How did they end up in a place like that?"
"What did this?"
Li Zhuiyuan did not crowd forward to look at the fabric. Instead, he stood by the cave entrance, his ears twitching slightly. He heard a howling rush of wind rising from the subterranean pit; clearly it plunged deep, echoing with whistling gusts.
*Wait, no—there's another sound. What is that scraping noise?*
Li Zhuiyuan crouched down, pressing his ear against the earth.
Seeing Xiaoyuan's action, Runsheng, Tan Wenbin, and Xue Liangliang quietly gathered around him, well aware of the boy's keen hearing. At this moment, the group was positioned in sequence: cave entrance — Li Zhuiyuan and his three companions — the other surveyors — the river.
The scraping grew clearer and clearer. As Li Zhuiyuan listened, he lifted his eyes toward the pit ahead, feeling as though something might burst forth at any second.
Just as he was about to shout for everyone to run from the cave, he realized something was wrong: the sound wasn't coming from the pit, but from the opposite side.
In the river! Something was crawling out of the river toward them—it was here!
Li Zhuiyuan snapped upright, looking toward the cluster of surveyors still gathered on the gravel beach, examining the scrap of uniform and debating their next move. Above all their heads...
Two massive red lanterns suddenly blazed to life!
Chapter 63