Chapter 18: 17, Hundred Beasts Robe

17, Hundred Beasts Robe

As dusk just fell, Master Yang helped Shi Danshi support Zhou Chang out of the main hall.

Under the dark, heavy sky, a narrow, cramped courtyard held a square table.

Half a salted chicken and a cured sausage made two cold dishes; a bowl of blood pudding and a basin of bean curd topped with meat scraps formed two hot dishes, all arranged together on the table.

To Zhou Chang, this meal was hardly lavish—but in this world, it was utterly sumptuous.

Though Shi Danshi tried to maintain a calm expression, faint sounds of swallowing saliva betrayed the boy.

“Ha ha, sit! Sit!” Yang Rui stood before the table, rubbing his hands, smiling at the four dishes, and gesturing for Zhou Chang and Shi Danshi to take their seats.

When the old man’s gaze passed over Shi Danshi’s face, Zhou Chang clearly noticed the boy stiffen, forcing his expression into stoic calm as he helped Zhou Chang sit beside the table.

What is he pretending in front of his master?

Zhou Chang’s eyelid twitched; he shifted his gaze away from Shi Danshi.

“There’s still a soup in the pot—I’ll bring it.”

“Your grandfather went to buy wine; he should be back by now.” Yang Rui spoke a few words to Zhou Chang, then turned to Shi Danshi: “Disciple, go outside and meet your uncle.”

Shi Danshi said nothing, only nodded, stood, and stepped out the door.

Yang Rui turned toward the firewood shed.

In an instant, the courtyard was left with only Zhou Chang, who stared at the side room where Bai Xiue lived—she still had not shown herself.

Then, Zhou Sanji entered the courtyard, carrying a jar tied with straw netting, followed by Shi Danshi; Yang Rui emerged from the firewood shed with a basin of salted vegetable and tofu stew.

The group took their seats, and Zhou Sanji rose to pour wine for everyone.

“Not everyone is here yet,” Zhou Chang suddenly cleared his throat and spoke.

Yang Rui, wine cup in hand, froze, glancing around the table: “Who’s missing?”

Zhou Sanji also paused, then immediately understood, glaring fiercely at Zhou Chang: “You’re lusting after her just because she’s pretty? Watch out—lust has a knife above its head!”

Zhou Chang lowered his eyelids and said nothing.

He wasn’t lust-driven toward Bai Xiue; only when she was near him could the garment in his mind be repaired.

“So someone really hasn’t come?” Yang Rui exclaimed, intrigued.

“Yes, a young lady from a wealthy family!”

“If she doesn’t show, none of us dare pick up our chopsticks!” Zhou Sanji sneered, turning toward the side room: “I wonder what she’s hiding in there all day!”

As he spoke, the old man set down the wine jar and walked toward the side room.

Yang Rui glanced at Zhou Chang, then looked toward the side room door.

His younger brother’s courtyard still held another person—he’d never even met them.

And from his brother’s words, the person living here was a woman—where had she come from?

All eyes turned to the side room door.

Under their gaze, the door suddenly creaked open slowly, and Bai Xiue stepped out, head bowed.

She wore Zhou Chang’s old clothes, too large, making her slender frame appear even more fragile.

Bai Xiue timidly glanced at Zhou Sanji, standing a few steps away, then bowed her head to him: “Master Zhou.”

Zhou Sanji looked at the delicate, slender Bai Xiue, and the sarcastic words he’d been about to say choked back in his throat; he sighed, waved his hand, and turned back: “Let’s eat.”

Bai Xiue pressed her lips together and followed Zhou Sanji with small steps.

The square table, already surrounded by people, was a place she needed great courage to approach.

Especially with all eyes fixed on her, she was utterly lost—when she neared the table, she didn’t know where to sit, her eyes blank, her mind empty.

“Sit here.”

At that moment, Zhou Chang nodded toward the seat beside him, signaling Bai Xiue to sit by him.

Bai Xiue glanced at him shyly but didn’t move—Zhou’s young brother was already seated beside him.

“Uncle,” Zhou Chang smiled and called to Shi Danshi, gesturing with his eyes for him to move.

Shi Danshi looked at the woman, beautiful as if stepped from a painting, then at Zhou Chang; his mouth slightly open, his forced calm shattered, he blinked in confusion and shifted sideways.

Zhou Chang looked again at Bai Xiue; she lowered her head obediently and sat beside him.

She quietly exhaled, feeling as if she’d broken through a barrier.

“Ah…” Zhou Sanji scowled at Zhou Chang, then ignored him, lifting the wine jar to pour for Yang Rui: “Brother, come, drink a cup of Ergou Village wine.

Today I still need to thank you…”

“Wait a moment,” Yang Rui covered his cup with his hand, pointing at Bai Xiue: “You haven’t introduced this girl to me?”

“Bah! What’s there to introduce?

She’ll be back home in a few days—you’ll never see her again. Just treat her as a guest who took shelter here for a few days!” Zhou Sanji clearly didn’t want to speak of Bai Xiue; he snatched Yang Rui’s cup and filled it to the brim: “Just drink. Didn’t you keep complaining you wanted wine?”

Seeing this, Yang Rui stopped asking, lifted his cup, drank the wine with a loud “slurp,” and let out a long sigh.

“Shi Danshi, will you drink?”

“Wine is medicine—it heals the heart. Give him a little.”

“Got it!”

“Ah Chang, you drink a few cups too!”

Zhou Sanji circled the table with the wine jar, stopping beside Zhou Chang, picking up his cup, and pouring him a full measure.

The old man now knew alcohol suppressed delusions, and wanted his grandson to drink more—he believed the wine did Zhou Chang great good.

Zhou Chang stared at the white liquor; the liquid in the cup was clear as water, the sharp scent of alcohol drifting through the air.

Yang Rui called wine medicine that cured heart ailments; as a modern man, Zhou Chang knew alcohol’s dangers—yes, it could numb the mind, let one escape reality and fear, but once sober, reality remained unchanged; no amount of drinking solved real problems.

This thing, drunk regularly, brought a hundred harms and not a single benefit.

Yet at that moment, Zhou Chang felt a faint stirring in his heart.

He lowered his eyes to his right wrist—the red string on it now emitted a thread-thin crimson qi, drifting into the wine cup before him; the qi vanished instantly, and the red string returned to stillness.

After first drinking the death qi of the mass grave, this red string had brought Zhou Chang the “thought-garment” from the coffin; since then, it had lain dormant.

Now, because of a cup of wine, it showed signs of revival.

Did it need to absorb “wine qi” to gather strength, and as before, pull forth another “relic” from the coffin before the Yinsheng Old Mother’s grave?

Zhou Chang had a quiet suspicion.

“Come, open your mouth!” Zhou Sanji set down the jar, lifted the wine cup, and pressed it to Zhou Chang’s lips.

The wine no longer carried the scent of alcohol—only a faint, mellow fragrance remained.

Zhou Chang opened his mouth; the liquid flowed in, sliding down his throat—he felt not a trace of alcohol, nor even the lingering aroma he’d noticed moments before.

This cup of wine, drained of its “wine qi” by the red string, had become like water.

“Another cup?” Zhou Sanji poured Zhou Chang another cup even as he spoke.

Zhou Chang had just nodded when the cup was brought to his lips; he suppressed the red string’s urge to draw the wine qi, and drank the entire cup.

Strong alcohol fumes filled his mouth and teeth; the mellow fragrance lingered faintly.

This was real wine!

The previous cup, drained of qi, was nothing but water!

The red string needed to absorb wine qi to gather strength!

Zhou Chang was certain. He watched Zhou Sanji pour another cup and place it before him: “This cup is for the table—Grandpa will give you some dishes later.”

Then Zhou Sanji passed by Bai Xiue, who kept her head bowed.

The old man hesitated, then asked her: “Girl, would you like a sip?”

He immediately slapped his forehead and laughed: “Oh, I’m getting senile—forgive me. How could I ever suggest a young girl drink? That’s improper. Eat your vegetables—”

Before he finished, Bai Xiue timidly picked up her rice bowl and held it out to him.

Her thin, pale wrist trembled slightly in the air, yet held firm, refusing to withdraw.

“Master Zhou…” Bai Xiue whispered. Everyone stared at her in surprise, barely catching her words.

“You want a little?” Zhou Sanji asked.

Bai Xiue nodded.

Zhou Sanji shook his head, poured just a shallow pool of wine at the bottom of her bowl: “Little girl, a little wine won’t hurt, but don’t drink too much!”

“Mm…” Bai Xiue cradled the bowl, sniffed the wine at its bottom, then sipped slowly until it was gone. She extended the bowl again, her voice now slightly clearer: “Master Zhou… c-can I stay with you? Can I… not leave?”

She spoke the words in one breath, gathering all her courage, lifting her face to Zhou Sanji, her eyes filled with pleading.

“No way!” Zhou Sanji refused bluntly. He did not pour her more wine, instead sealing the jar with his hand, his face stern: “You’ve been gone so long—don’t your family miss you?

Besides, my household isn’t wealthy. I have no extra grain to feed you…”

Bai Xiue lowered her head, lowered her hand, and said: “I’ll find work outside. I’ll earn money for you—just let me have a place to stay.”

“Ah…” Zhou Sanji glanced at the others at the table, then met Zhou Chang’s gaze; suddenly, he hardened his heart: “You’re sweet-looking. At noon, when you washed dishes with me, I saw calluses on your hands and at your knuckles—you must be diligent at home.

And earlier, you saved me and Ah Chang—without you, we might have died out there.

In that sense, I’d gladly have you stay. If you live under the same roof as Ah Chang, close enough to share meals and shadows, sooner or later, you might become my granddaughter-in-law—I’m speaking plainly, girl, don’t think I’m rude. An old man like me says such things—please don’t take offense.

But… there’s always a but… you’ve been touched by things I can’t name, girl!

I dare not keep you!”

Bai Xiue’s eyelashes trembled; she remained silent.

At that moment, Zhou Chang felt the recovery of his “thought threads” in his brow accelerate sharply—he’d previously gained one thread every minute or two; now, in just a few breaths, two or three more had formed!

Zhou Chang turned his gaze to Bai Xiue; though silent, he sensed the turmoil beneath her stillness.

Was her emotional surge the reason his thought threads were growing?

A thought flashed through Zhou Chang’s mind.

He looked up at Zhou Sanji walking away, about to speak, when Bai Xiue lifted her head first and gazed at Zhou Sanji’s back: “Master Zhou, I have a way to keep it from coming out…”

Bai Xiue’s voice was weak and timid, naturally offering no persuasion.

Zhou Sanji didn’t turn around; he walked straight back to his seat, poured Yang Rui a cup of wine, then smiled at Bai Xiue: “Don’t think so much, girl.”

I’ve already sent someone to find out about your family’s land—I’ll have it returned to you soon.”

“What exactly must I do for you to let me stay?” Bai Xiue cried out, her voice trembling with tears.

Zhou Sanji fell silent, raising his cup to drink with Yang Rui.

Yang Rui lifted his cup but looked at Bai Xiue, nudging his chin toward Zhou Chang: “Your Master Zhou treasures nothing more than this grandson of his. If you can help Ah Chang, he’d be thrilled to have you stay—treat you just like me, with fine food and drink!”

“That’s right, that’s right!” Zhou Sanji laughed in agreement, taking it as Yang Rui’s jest, and smiled at Bai Xiue: “We spirit mediums have all heard of a talisman called the Hundred Beasts Robe.”

Legend says wearing the Hundred Beasts Robe keeps evil spirits at bay.

If you can sew Ah Chang one of those robes, so those delusions stop crawling onto him, you can stay here as long as you like!”

I won’t say a word!”

“The Hundred Beasts Robe…”

A faint glimmer lit Bai Xiue’s eyes—she had taken Zhou Sanji’s jest to heart.

Yang Rui tapped his chopsticks against the table and smiled at Bai Xiue: “Let me tell you, girl—birds in the sky, fish in the water, beasts, insects, pigs—they all count as ‘hundred beasts.’ The beasts themselves are easy to find, but their skins? Not so easy.”

Cat, rat, pig, dog skins are easy to get and can be stitched with needle and thread—but how do you stitch together the skins of flies, mosquitoes, and ants with ordinary thread?”

The Hundred Beasts Robe is hard precisely because of that single thread!”

If you can’t solve this key problem, better give up the idea of sewing the robe altogether.”

Hearing Yang Rui’s words, Zhou Chang felt a quiet stir within him. He turned to look at Bai Xiue beside him and saw the frail woman’s eyes shining brighter.

“How much time will you give me to sew the Hundred Beasts Robe, Master Zhou?” Bai Xiue lifted her eyelids and fixed her gaze on Zhou Sanji.

Zhou Sanji stared at her in surprise.

But seeing her determination—and having already spoken—he paused, then said: “Girl, we must be clear—this Hundred Beasts Robe must truly be made from the skins of at least a hundred different animals, or it won’t count!”

If you agree to that, I’ll give you a month… half a month, how’s that?”

“I accept.”