Chapter 29

28. Who Is Xian'er?

The sky had not yet brightened; the chill seeped into the marrow, not enough to awaken, only to freeze the brain to sludge.

Zhou Sanji set four bowls of vegetable porridge on the table, pulled out a bench, and sat down, muttering under his breath: “Why does it feel like more people are rising at dawn these days?”

Before, I only saw a few scattered figures lining the streets; now it feels like heads crowd every side of the road...

Could people from other streets have come to ours to chant sutras?

The world is growing stranger by the day—someday soon, everyone will be lying on planks...

Hurry up and eat. We’ll finish breakfast before dawn today. Later, your Uncle Yang and I have matters to attend to—you go to the distillery to treat the illness. Don’t delay this!

Zhou Chang brought a dish of pickled vegetables to the table. He glanced at the four bowls of porridge, paused, then looked toward the room where Uncle Yang and Shi Danshi lived, and turned back: “Did Uncle Yang drive Shi Danshi away?”

“Where are you getting that idea?!” Zhou Sanji shot Zhou Chang a warning glare, silencing him from prying into sensitive matters, then shouted toward Uncle Yang’s room: “Brother! Shi Danshi! Come eat!”

“Why are there only four bowls of porridge?”

“Where’s Bai’s portion?” Zhou Chang frowned at Zhou Sanji, asking again.

Seeing his gaze, Zhou Sanji’s temper flared: “I ate her bowl! I ate two bowls myself—I refused to leave her any! And now you ask, ‘Where’s Bai’s portion?’—she’s already gone!”

“Gone?” Zhou Chang narrowed his eyes.

She refused to return home no matter what before—where could she possibly have gone now?

If she’s gone, how will I complete the Robe of Recitation?

She left—how could he ever make up for Nianyi?

Zhou Sanji nodded, his expression grim.

The old man sighed softly, fished a silver dollar from his robe, and placed it on the table: “Here—this was left by her at our door.

She probably meant it as thanks for letting her stay these few days... Bah, just a few days—she didn’t need to give so much.

She’s just a little girl, and her build shows she’s no noble-born.

Besides, the girls from her village all have bad fates... This silver dollar is likely her last savings.”

“Her village?” Zhou Chang seized the key phrase, ears perking up, eyes glinting faintly: “Grandpa, you already knew which village she came from?”

Zhou Sanji was even more guarded. He nodded: “I know. But don’t think I’ll tell you!”

“Since you know where it is, it must be near Qingyi Town. I’ll just ask around—I’ll find out eventually.” Zhou Chang lowered his eyelids, thoughts racing.

Right now, he held many clues tied to the White Girl.

The most critical was her past engagement to the eldest son of the Wen family—follow that thread carefully, and he had a good chance of uncovering Bai Xiue’s origins and home.

But Zhou Sanji snorted: “You think it’s that easy!

Her village? Many outsiders can’t even find it. I only learned of its existence two years ago by sheer chance.

Even people my age—seventy years and more—rarely know where Bai’s hometown is. You, a young pup, think asking a few strangers will get you the answer? Hmph!”

“Why?” Zhou Chang stared at Zhou Sanji. “Why do the women from her village have such bad fates?”

Zhou Chang shifted the topic deliberately.

Yet Zhou Sanji heard the subtext—he was fishing.

Zhou Sanji sneered, ignored Zhou Chang’s question, and instead urged the gloomy Uncle Yang and the bowed Shi Danshi to sit and eat.

Yang Rui said nothing. Seeing the tension between master and disciple, Zhou Sanji wisely kept quiet.

In silence, the four finished breakfast.

Shi Danshi rose shakily, gathering the bowls and chopsticks.

As he carefully prepared to stack Uncle Yang’s bowl, Yang Rui slammed the bowl onto the table, slapped his chopsticks down, and fixed Shi Danshi with a glare: “You’ve deceived me this long!

Gu Shitou, I’m disowning you as my disciple. Pack your things and leave!”

As he carefully prepared to stack his master’s bowl, Yang Rui slammed the bowl’s base onto the table and slapped his chopsticks down, glaring at Shi Danshi: “You’ve been deceiving me all this time!”

He dared not speak, only blinked desperately at the other two at the table, seeking help.

“Why?” Zhou Sanji spoke up to Yang Rui. “Shi Danshi’s such a well-behaved boy—what’s he done to deserve disownment?

You’re getting old. Who else will care for you in your final days? Isn’t it Gu Shitou?

You want to throw him out? I think you’ve eaten too much!”

“I don’t need anyone to care for me in my old age!” Yang Rui declared sharply. “I took him as a disciple because he claimed he was possessed by a yellow pelt ghost—his life was doomed—”

Here, Yang Rui turned his gaze on Shi Danshi: “Now that the yellow pelt ghost was a lie, your life is safe—you can go!”

“Ahh...” Zhou Sanji looked between master and disciple, his face heavy with worry, unsure how to intervene.

Saying this, Yang Rui turned his gaze to Shi Danshi: “Now that the yellow-fur ghost affair was a lie, your life is spared—you may leave!”

Shi Danshi wept uncontrollably, dropped his chopsticks, and fell to his knees before Yang Rui, banging his head repeatedly.

Zhou Chang noticed the thick layer of dust on Shi Danshi’s knee patches, and the bluish bruise on his forehead—he must have knelt and begged for forgiveness countless times in that room.

Now it was certain: Yang Rui was angry because his disciple had not been touched by the Gui .

Now he had reached the point of expelling his disciple simply because he had not been possessed by the yellow pelt ghost.

Did he only take disciples connected to the Gui ?

Now he has even reached the point of expelling his disciple simply because the disciple was not possessed by the yellow-fur ghost.

“You know you’re wrong? Hmph!” Yang Rui glared at the kneeling Shi Danshi, voice thick with venom. “You’re cunning—so convincing in your ghost act, I was completely fooled!

Where did you learn such a deceitful trick?”

“You know you’re wrong? Hah!” Yang Rui glared at Shi Danshi kneeling on the ground, his voice thick with hatred. “You’re a scheming bastard—you fooled me so well pretending to be a ghost, I was completely taken in!”

You were the one who first pretended to be the yellow pelt ghost to scare off the bandits—I just copied you!” Shi Danshi wailed.

“Learned from me?!” Yang Rui’s eyes sharpened. He opened his mouth to rebuke, then froze—suddenly recalling something, his gaze turned suspicious.

He murmured Shi Danshi’s words: “Learned from me...”

Yang Rui slowly turned his back to the three at the table.

Then, abruptly, he spun back, pinched a strand of his mustache between his thumb and forefinger, and whispered in a needle-thin voice: “Tell me—do I look more like a man... or like Xian’er?”

Yang Rui slowly turned around, his back to the three at the table.

Suddenly, he whirled back, pinching a strand of his mustache between his lotus fingers, his voice a needle-thin whisper: “So tell me, do I look more like a man, or more like a fairy?”