Chapter 65

When I and Yao Wenju came out of the room, the police had already cleaned up the corpses inside the house.

According to regulations, I and Pangzi should have gone to the police station to give statements, but Yao Wenju smoothed things over, letting us avoid that tedious procedure.

As for how the case would be characterized, that's the police's business; it's not our place to worry. The only thing that makes me feel a bit regretful is that this ordinary gathering, including Qingqing, was mercilessly deprived of several lives.

What surprised me was Yao Yirong; after this ordeal, her temperament became much more mature, no longer the spoiled and willful self she used to be. She removed all the ancient paintings from the house, saying she worried they might still hide something, but to me and Pangzi, it seemed she was just wasting the family fortune again.

That night, I, Pangzi, Yao Yirong, and her brother, four of us, stayed overnight in the ancient castle, planning to take a vehicle back to Guangdong the next day.

That night, taking advantage of their sound sleep, I quietly came to the basement of the ancient castle; in the castle's basement I saw the small copper door that Murong Jiajia had described.

After opening it, the inside was pitch black, with not a glimmer of light.

I recalled Murong Jiajia's admonition: I must walk the numbers of the Eight Trigrams in reverse to find the way out.

The Eight Trigrams have eight numbers: Qian is one, Dui two, Li three, Zhen four, Xun five, Kan six, Gen seven, Kun eight. Each trigram represents a number and a direction. For example, Qian as one corresponds to the northwest; Dui as two corresponds to the west; from Qian you take one step toward the northwest, then upon reaching Dui you continue two steps toward the west.

What I need to do now is to walk the directions of the Eight Trigrams in reverse, once again.

Ahead was total darkness, so dark you couldn't see your own hand; left with no choice, I closed my eyes and mentally rehearsed the Gangbu steps.

After finishing that, I lightly took the first step, beginning to walk along the reverse Eight Trigrams route. When I completed the final step, my vision suddenly brightened, as if I had approached another passage to heaven. Immediately afterward, I saw Murong Jiajia sitting before the dressing table, smiling at me.

She said to me, "You've come." Her smile remained as captivating as ever, making it impossible not to momentarily lose oneself.

I gently sat beside her, and after a long while I finally asked, "Can you tell me why you're staying here?"

Murong Jiajia only answered me with four words: "Waiting for someone, waiting for him."

Waiting for whom, and who is he?

Murong Jiajia shook her head and said, "I've forgotten, but I know he will someday return to find me."

I asked her again, "How long have you been waiting here?" But as soon as I uttered the question, I also laughed—what's the difference between asking that and being an idiot? From her recollections that night, I learned she had at least stayed in this ancient castle for over a hundred years.

"You've waited so long, yet you haven't waited for him to appear—have you never thought about going out to look for him? Continuing to wait like this isn't a solution." After a moment, I said softly.

Murong Jiajia laughed and said, "Yes, so I'm leaving now."

I stared at her, astonished, and asked, "You... you're really leaving now?"

She nodded and said, "Yes, waiting for you to take me out."

I was puzzled and asked, "How do you know I'll take you out?"

She chuckled mischievously and said, "Because I know you want to."

Her words made me lower my head, anxiously scratching the back of my head; when a thought is suddenly laid bare, a psychological reaction arises, which influences thinking, and under the sway of that thought, one naturally acts.

For example, a boy secretly loves a girl for a long time; just as he summons the courage to confess, the girl sees through his feelings ahead of time. At that moment, his mind goes blank, forgetting everything he had prepared. He is bewildered, at a loss, not knowing what to do.

I am currently in this psychological state; what Murong Jiaja said is correct. Before coming to see her, I had already decided to take her away.

There are two reasons. First, she gives me a very warm feeling, similar to that of my sister who was reborn; I don't feel at ease leaving her alone in this castle, even though she seems mysterious and is well versed in the Daoist Sect's Mysterious Gate Escape Arts. But what if one day an old Daoist half-dead and about to crawl into a coffin shows up? Or what if one day this so-called formation is broken by someone else? Who can guarantee what will happen later? The so-called orthodox sects will deal with ghosts, but they won't care whether you're good or evil.

The second reason is that I want to help her, help her find the person she's waiting for; this is the least reason-like reason, just a feeling in my heart acting up. Or perhaps it's because I think she's too pitiful, waiting for someone in this lightless basement for hundreds of years, so sympathy arises in my heart involuntarily.

"Silly guy, shall we go? After we go out, you have to help me find the person I'm waiting for." When I was at a loss because my little secret was exposed, Murong Jiaja's laughter came again, gentle with a hint of mischief.

I scratched my head and asked her, "Um, how do I take you out? It's fine to talk about now at night, but if it were daytime, going outside would make your soul scatter."

Murong Jiaja pointed with her hand at a corner of the wall.

When I looked in the direction she pointed, I suddenly realized. In that corner of the wall stood an oil-paper umbrella with a plum blossom pattern. The umbrella's age looks older than my grandmother's, yet it is smooth as if brand new.

Murong Jiaja's meaning was naturally that she was hiding in this umbrella, letting me take her out.

"My soul has lingered here a long time; once I go out I will surely be weak… After going out, you must buy a piece of kun jade for me; only after refining it can I nourish my spirit." Murong Jiaja said softly.

I kept all this in mind, then opened the umbrella and let Murong Jiaja slip inside.

When I closed my eyes and took the first step following the reverse Bagua route, Murong Jiaja's voice came from inside the umbrella.

"Silly guy, you went the wrong way; to get out you must follow the proper Bagua, the first step should be taken in the direction of the Qian palace."

"How troublesome." I rolled my eyes, muttered softly, then readjusted my steps and walked out.

However, when I finished the last step and opened my eyes, I was startled.

I saw someone who shouldn't have been here—Yao Yirong's brother, Yao Wenju.

He had one hand on the doorframe and the other holding a cigar, looking at me with a puzzled expression.

"What are you doing?" We stared at each other, both asking puzzledly.

"Nothing, just taking a walk." The same answer came from both of us in unison.

"Really, nothing—I just happened to walk by and saw there was a basement here, and coincidentally saw a small copper door, so curiosity made me go in." I tried to cover up, and also quietly slipped the umbrella behind my back, trying not to draw his attention.

"Oh, I see." Yao Wenju continued puffing his cigar, walked over to a small stool in the basement and sat down. After sitting, he puffed on the cigar nonstop, as if he had something on his mind.

I had originally wanted to take this opportunity to go out and hide the umbrella, but seeing his gloomy demeanor, I couldn't help but go over and sit beside him.

I nudged him with my elbow and asked curiously, "Brother Wen, how did you end up here? Are you troubled by something?"

He smiled and said, "When I'm upset, I like to find a quiet, empty place to be still."

Given his ambiguous answer and his evasive demeanor, I mentally listed three multiple-choice options for him: A, B, C.

A, he was dumped.

B, he was dumped by his girlfriend of ten years.

C, he was dumped by his wife.

To confirm my suspicion, I reached out and nudged him again, asking curiously, "You wouldn't be heartbroken, would you?"

He stared blankly for a moment, then looked at me with a mixture of laughter and tears and retorted, "Do you think that's possible?"

I shook my head; indeed it's not possible. Given the Yao family's status, they have money, they have power. Living in this modern age where one would rather cry in a BMW than laugh on a bicycle. Even if he were as ugly as the second brother from Journey to the West, women would still throw themselves at him. Moreover, he's not that ugly.

Since that's not it, I can't think of any other possibility; having thought of nothing, there's naturally nothing to say. The atmosphere in the basement grew gloomy, and just as I was preparing to take the umbrella and flee back to my room, Yao Wenju suddenly asked me this:

"Do you know Yue Fei?"

I looked at him like an idiot. Yue Fei, Prince Yue, the foremost loyalist of the Great Song, a martial god. Skilled in martial arts, full of ambition, yet born in an era plagued by incurable illness, he was executed on a false charge—truly the most wronged among loyal heroes throughout history.

I think, as a Chinese person, who wouldn't know Yue Fei? It's just that Yao Wenju suddenly asking this—what does he mean? Is he taking me for an idiot?

"Do you know about Wu Mu's Legacy?" Yao Wenju asked again.

I hesitated then, not knowing how to answer. According to rumor, Wu Mu's Legacy is a book left behind by Prince Yue, which records Prince Yue's tactics for deploying troops and forming battle formations. Whoever obtains this book will surely win every battle in war. In Jin Yong's The Legend of the Condor Heroes, such a book is also mentioned.

However, after examining the entire official history, there is no record of this Wu Mu's Legacy in that classic; some say it only exists in the wild histories circulated among the folk, and its authenticity remains to be verified.

Unable to suppress my doubts, I blurted out, "Does this book really exist?"

After hearing my doubts, Yao Wenju paused for a moment, then inexplicably stood up and burst into loud laughter, laughing all the way as he walked out toward the stairs of the ground-floor room, leaving me sitting alone in the chair, completely baffled.

Watching him slowly walk away, once he was out of my sight, I drew a conclusion about him, which remained a multiple-choice question.

A He was poisoned by novels.

B He was poisoned by Jin Yong's novels.

C He was poisoned by a novel called The Legend of the Condor Heroes.

This poor child...