Song Zhiqie raised her head, gazing at the Broken Goose Gate standing atop the mountain.
High above, clouds billowed, obscuring the majestic buildings that resembled a celestial palace. At the mountainside, a clear, winding river flowed like a jade ribbon. Compared to the simple, desolate mountains and waters of Cangshi City, the scenery here possessed a dazzling and magnificent beauty, as if surrounded by jewels.
Song Zhiqie didn't know how to describe it, vaguely recalling a word Song Huiya had casually mentioned, something like "Zhong" and "Xiu." She racked her brains while simultaneously helping the woman push her bamboo basket up the mountain.
Because the woman walked slowly and the path was rugged, even though Song Zhiqie was a lively and energetic monkey, after climbing for over an hour, she was covered in sweat.
As the two struggled up the mountain, strong men carrying goods frequently passed by. When the last person in the group appeared—empty-handed and relaxed—Song Zhiqie immediately recognized him. It was the young shop assistant who had given her a hard time at the rice shop earlier that day.
He had come up the mountain to deliver rice.
Seeing the shop assistant go ahead to talk to the gatekeeper, the woman pulled Song Zhiqie to sit down and rest.
Her breathing was labored, like air being squeezed from an old bellows—muffled and short. The occasional cough seemed to drain the air from her chest, making her speech slurred.
Song Zhiqie pressed her ear close to the woman's, listening twice before understanding that she was saying, "You should go back now. Thank you for today."
Song Zhiqie glanced at the sky and sensed something was wrong, but wasn't too afraid. This was probably the confidence her master had spoken of.
She was doing a good deed! How could Song Huiya punish her?
"You're too kind, ma'am."
She shifted her position, smiling as she looked toward the mountain gate, a look of amused interest on her face.
The young shop assistant hadn't initially noticed the two women; perhaps a glimpse of their clothing was enough to dismiss them. His attention was entirely focused on the disciple guarding the mountain.
Even before approaching, he bowed three steps away—a servile posture, a fawning smile on his face—clasping his hands in salute. He received a barely perceptible nod in response.
Only after the disciple turned to inspect the bag of rice did the shop assistant turn back, following the intense gaze behind him.
Song Zhiqie sat low, meeting his gaze with a half-smile, revealing white teeth, her eyes filled with an almost naked mockery and contempt.
The shop assistant's smile was still half-finished when he saw this. His face twitched slightly, and feeling utterly ashamed that a child had noticed, he unconsciously tugged at his sleeve, lifting his lowered neck slightly, and glared at her fiercely.
Song Zhiqie ignored him, her eyelids drooping, her eyes gleaming. She picked at the dry skin on her lips, a mischievous glint in her eyes. After a moment, she turned to the woman beside her and said, "Auntie, can I borrow your handkerchief? I'll return it to you after I wash it."
"I've already used it," the woman said somewhat embarrassedly, but still took out a square handkerchief.
Song Zhiqie took it with both hands, wiping the sweat from her forehead, trying to appear refined and cultured, though the way she did it was rather incongruous.
The young waiter opposite her couldn't help but chuckle, laughing wildly before saying disdainfully, "A lowlife, trying to be cultured! Even a wild monkey in the mountains looks more like a scholar than you."
With an arrogant air, he glanced at Song Zhiqie and asked in an affected tone, "Do you know what 'pretending to be cultured' means?"
He was clearly quite proud of his ability to use the term.
Contrary to his expectations, Song Zhiqie did not show any embarrassment or awkwardness. She simply folded the handkerchief neatly, hung it at her waist, greeted him politely, and turned to walk down the mountain.
The shopkeeper clicked his tongue in disapproval.
After walking a short distance, seeing that the shopkeeper hadn't followed, Song Zhiqie jogged down the mountain. Midway, she found a narrow, high bend in the stone steps, took out a bracelet made of grass beads from her bosom, broke the thin string, scattered a few beads on the ground, and then covered them with the handkerchief.
After doing this, she went down to find a quiet place to sit.
A short while later, the gatekeeper finished counting the day's goods and paid the shopkeeper.
The shopkeeper weighed the bag in his hand, his heart sinking. His stiff smile twitched slightly, but he still politely bid farewell. Turning away, he quickly went to a secluded spot, counted the coins twice more, and found that at least half was missing. He couldn't help but curse.
"Damn it!"
The waiter immediately fell silent, his lips moving but only daring to curse involuntarily. Halfway down, he saw the handkerchief lying on the ground and, in a fit of rage, stomped on it heavily. Instantly, he felt dizzy and disoriented, tumbling down the stone steps, landing in a daze. It was a truly gruesome sight—he felt as if several bones had been broken, and he couldn't get up for a long time.
Song Zhiqie heard the agonizing screams and the sound of something falling, and covered her mouth, chuckling smugly. Wiping away her tearful eyes, she left, satisfied.
She had only taken a few steps when suddenly the back of her collar tightened, and she was lifted up.
Song Zhiqie was terrified and struggled violently. Turning around, she saw Song Huiya, and her brows instantly relaxed, exclaiming with delight, "Master!"
But seeing Song Huiya's unfriendly expression, her smile gradually faded, and she became flustered.
Song Huiya put her down and silently walked up the mountain path.
Song Zhiqie, confused about what she had done wrong, followed closely behind, a string of words swirling around her lips.
The waiter lay sprawled on the ground, wailing and crying in pain.
Song Huiya pressed two acupoints on him to relieve the pain, saying, "I'll call the porters from the bottom of the mountain to come up and take you to the doctor."
The waiter was somewhat delirious and nodded haphazardly.
"He..." Song Zhiqie picked at her fingers, feeling guilty, yet unable to resist defending herself, "He fell down on his own, it's not my fault!"
Song Huiya ignored her, picked up a handkerchief from the side, dusted it off, and stuffed it into her bosom.
Just then, a woman carrying a bamboo basket came down the steps.
Song Zhiqie, as if seeing her second parents, cried out impatiently, "Auntie!"
Pointing at the woman, she quickly explained, "Master, I haven't gone back because I was helping that auntie! I didn't come here to play!"
She rushed toward the woman, but just as she reached her, the woman's eyes rolled back, and she was about to fall toward her.
"Ahhh!"
Song Zhiqie couldn't support such a large person and jumped back with a scream. Fortunately, Song Huiya caught her in time, supporting her waist and laying her flat on the ground.
The woman opened her eyes trembling, unable to speak.
Song Huiya said, "Help her down."
Hearing her finally speak, Song Zhiqie felt as if she had heard heavenly music and eagerly replied, "Yes, Master!"
Song Huiya reached out to take the bamboo basket from behind the woman, but the first time she tried, she couldn't lift it directly. Startled, she used some more force before finally managing to untie the basket from behind.
A thick quilt covered the basket's opening. Looking down, Song Huiya sensed a faint stench of decay. She raised an eyebrow, intending to lift a corner.
Suddenly, the seemingly weak woman found strength and lunged forward, her thin, bony hands pressing tightly against the quilt.
"Don't lift it! Be careful of the wind, or you'll catch a cold..." The woman muttered a few words incoherently, the last few words slurred and unclear. "I can do it myself. Thank you, thank you, young lady."
Song Huiya lifted the bamboo basket with one hand, easily slung it over her back, and gently comforted her, "No need, I can do it. Zhiqie, help her."
Song Zhiqie strained to support the woman, using her body to lean against her, and said with difficulty, "Auntie, why did you come down so quickly? Didn't you say you were going up the mountain to find someone?"
With the burden lifted, the woman regained some strength in her hands and feet, straightened her body slightly, her eyes still fixed on the bamboo basket, and answered slowly, "They wouldn't let me in."
Song Huiya asked, "Who are you looking for?"
Song Zhiqie had already asked twice on the way here and quickly answered, "She's looking for her husband. Right, ma'am?"
Mentioning these questions made the woman's mind foggy, as if it couldn't process anything. After thinking for a while, she said, "Yes, my husband is also a porter from Broken Goose Mountain. He went out to borrow money and hasn't come home for several days."
Song Zhiqie also noticed something was wrong. She waved her hand in front of the woman's eyes and asked, "Ma'am, are you alright? Did you hit your head?"
The woman touched the back of her head and said blankly, "No. It doesn't hurt."
Song Zhiqie shut up, feeling somewhat annoyed. She realized she had been wandering around with a madwoman all morning.
But in the morning, this woman clearly hadn't had this episode of madness; she could speak clearly. How could her mind have become so abnormal after being alone on the mountain for a while?
The woman had been babbling incoherently on the way. But as they approached her doorstep, she miraculously regained her senses. She stepped over the threshold, placed one hand on the bamboo door, stood still for a moment, then turned around and said incoherently, "My son was slapped a while ago and has been sick ever since. They think he bullied someone. My son is so young, usually as timid as a mouse, how could he bully anyone? He just saw a little girl sitting on the ground crying and felt sorry for her, so he went over to help her up. That person is a big shot we never see. I went up the mountain to ask him why he hit my son. There should be some reason in this world, right?"
After saying this, she began to speak incoherently again.
"He's about the same age as this girl... He clung to my clothes and cried at night, saying he didn't do anything wrong and apologizing to me. It was my fault—I shouldn't have taken him to the temple fair."
Song Zhiqie sniffed, carefully glancing at her master's expression, feeling that she could empathize a little.
Song Huiya pushed her into the house and carefully put down the bamboo basket. The woman followed her, her eyes darting around, her voice growing softer: "He said his ear hurt, and it bled a lot, but we only managed to borrow money the next day. He took the medicine and vomited... no, he felt better after taking the medicine. Yes, he felt better right after taking the medicine."
The woman clapped her hands, looking enlightened, and said, "I have to go cook now, please stay and have a meal with us."
Song Huiya politely declined, "No need. There are other people at home."
With that, she took her apprentice's hand and quickly left the courtyard.
After walking about ten feet, Song Zhiqie couldn't help but turn back and saw the woman still leaning against the door, watching them and waving at them with a smile.
Song Zhiqie got goosebumps all over.
Not out of fear, but because of an inexplicable chill.
Once inside her own house, Song Zhiqie immediately closed the door, squinting one eye and peering through the crack into the woman's house.
Song Huiya walked to the table, her expression inscrutable, picked up the tea she had brewed the night before, and silently drank two cups.
"Master..."
Song Zhiqie was intimidated by her attitude, thinking she was angry with her. She stood awkwardly by the wall with her hands behind her back, glanced around, picked up a broom, and walked over with both hands outstretched, asking, "Are you going to hit me?"
The old man chuckled beside them, making sarcastic remarks: "It's a good thing your master hasn't starved to death in this house, considering you, as her disciple, are being filial."
Song Huiya put down her cup, let out a long breath, and asked, "Why do you think I'm angry?"
Song Zhiqie's arms ached from holding the broom up, and unable to figure out the problem, she stammered, "Because I... bullied someone?"
Song Huiya laughed and asked coldly, "You think you're very clever, don't you?"
The child felt a genuine sense of fear and shook her head vigorously.
Song Huiya took out a handkerchief and placed it on the table. Her voice was cold, trembling slightly with anger: "I originally didn't want to tell you because I felt that matter had nothing to do with you. It wasn't your original intention, nor was it related to your good or evil. There was no need for you to bear a debt of life and death. But I warned you long ago not to be so clever, and you didn't seem to take it seriously."
The child listened tremblingly, mouth agape.
Song Huiya asked, "Before leaving Cangshi City, I made you kowtow three times to a certain place. Why do you think that was?"
Song Zhiqie turned pale with fright. The old man also sensed something was wrong, sheathed his knife, and silently went into the house to avoid the conflict.
"The martial artist who kidnapped you found an inn outside the village and asked the innkeeper about you. The innkeeper thought you had caused a great disaster and intentionally covered it up for you, which resulted in the martial arts master's murderous intent. In the end, we both share responsibility for his death."
Seeing her suppressing her sobs and tears of sorrow, Song Huiya's emotions calmed slightly, and she slowed her speech, but her wording remained stern.
"Song Zhiqie, that's how the martial world is—turbulent and treacherous. Not everyone is willing to reason with you. You have nothing, you know nothing, you're just an ant being manipulated in someone else's hands. They can kill you with a flick of their fingers. Do you think you can vent your anger and feel better with these petty tricks? But if that young man today were more ruthless, or held a grudge like you, and needed to find someone to vent on, you might be lucky enough to stay by my side and escape unscathed. But that woman across from you would suffer for your sake. Today it's like this, tomorrow it might be someone else. If you can't change... I advise you to stay away from me as soon as possible! I don't want to follow you around every day, collecting other people's corpses for you!"
Song Zhiqie knelt down and hugged her legs, crying heartbrokenly, "I was wrong! I'll change! I'll definitely change! Master, I didn't mean it, I just didn't think that much!"
The old man came out with a knife, unable to bear it any longer, and said quietly, "You're in a bad mood, why take it out on a child? Your skills are even worse than hers."
Song Zhiqie wiped away her tears, sobbing uncontrollably, "My master is teaching me, don't, don't mind me!"
The old man, feeling rebuffed, laughed angrily, "Heartless little devil."
Song Huiya patted her disciple's head, seeing that she was sincerely repentant and feeling sorry for her crying, and sighed, "Get up."
Song Zhiqie remained kneeling, refusing to let go. Song Huiya lifted her foot and broke free, and only then did she slowly get up.
Next
.jpeg)
Comments
Post a Comment