Chapter 61: Santong's First Love

Inside the house sat the leader of the Five Pecks of Rice Sect—the very man who was the sworn enemy of Miss Ruoshui, responsible for her father's death. Years ago, he had studied Daoist arts under Du Zigong, and now, he had assumed the title of “Grand Master”: Sun Tai.

Sun Tai hailed from the Sun clan of Langya, a lineage long devoted to the Celestial Masters’ Dao. At his side, advising him, stood no other than a fellow clansman—his nephew, Sun En.

Sun En, well-versed in military strategy since childhood, spoke with clarity and confidence: “Grand Master, our followers within Kuaiji Mountain now number tens of thousands. Meanwhile, the city of Shanyin is defended by no more than ten thousand soldiers, including the garrison and the private armies of the noble clans. What’s more, half of the aristocrats in Shanyin are our own devotees. If they coordinate with us in secret, seizing the Thunder Gate will be no challenge at all.”

Although Sun Tai was Sun En’s uncle, the doctrine of the Celestial Masters stressed the creation of a world of universal harmony, and within the sect, all addressed each other by official titles rather than familial terms, to demonstrate selflessness. Thus, even Miss Ruoshui always called Du Zigong “Master” rather than “Father.”

Sun Tai had studied under Du Zigong in his youth; though they were master and disciple, they were nearly the same age. Now, having succeeded his former teacher, Sun Tai was a man in his prime.

His voice was deep and measured, betraying a mind of great subtlety: “How, then, do we communicate with the noble families in the city who follow our way? How do we ensure their covert cooperation?”

“I have already made arrangements,” Sun En replied with a faint smile. “There is a Daoist temple in Shanyin called Purple Cloud Temple. My agents there routinely gather intelligence from the city. Three days from now, the aristocrats who follow our teachings will convene there. Then, we can dispatch Grand Libationer Yan Yicao to Purple Cloud Temple to personally win them over. Once our victory is secured, they will rally their forces to assist us from within Thunder Gate, and the eastern defenses of Shanyin will fall without a fight.”

Sun Tai, noting his nephew’s thoroughness, approved inwardly, though he offered no praise aloud. Instead, he changed the subject: “And what of the Holy Maiden?”

Sun En smiled, reassuringly: “Rest assured, Grand Master. With Wang Gong’s rebellion distracting the court, once we move to seize Shanyin, the Holy Maiden will return from the Immortal Mountains of the Eastern Sea, just as you instructed. The people of the southeast will surely flock to our banner.”

Hearing this, Zhang Chi finally understood: the Five Pecks of Rice Sect had been planning the assault on Shanyin from the very beginning.

Though the sect had risen in open rebellion, it had always behaved like a band of marauders, hiding in the mountains and wandering from place to place. Now, gathering their followers in Kuaiji Mountain, they intended to launch a campaign of conquest—and their first target was to be Kuaiji itself.

Judging by the conversation inside, the Wine Maiden was likely not present in the sacred land at all, but would only return from the so-called “Immortal Mountains of the Eastern Sea” when the attack on Kuaiji began.

The Five Pecks of Rice Sect revered the Water Official; having the Holy Maiden arrive from the ocean to aid them would only strengthen the faith of their followers.

It seemed his journey today had been in vain; he would not find the Wine Maiden in this sacred land. Yet, he had stumbled upon the sect’s plot against Shanyin—a matter that, at first, had nothing to do with him. Still, the thought of Miss Wang came to his mind.

He remembered her tireless efforts, not merely for the sake of avoiding chaos, but also because of her deep concern for the Xie clan. He vaguely recalled that after the Xie family was demoted and stripped of command over the Northern Army, they had settled in Kuaiji.

The Five Pecks of Rice Sect followed the teachings of Laozi and Zhuangzi: “Abandon sages, discard wisdom, and great thieves will disappear; destroy jade and pearls, and small thieves will vanish; burn seals and decrees, and the people will become honest; smash scales and measures, and the people will stop contending.” Since the sect advocated abandoning sages and wisdom, and the Xie clan had, for generations, produced such luminaries as Xie An and Xie Xuan, Miss Wang’s chief worry was that in the ensuing chaos, the Xie family would inevitably face slaughter.

Thinking of Miss Wang, Zhang Chi resolved to return to Shanyin and consider his next move. If the Five Pecks of Rice Sect were to threaten the Xie family, he could not stand by, for her sake. Besides, if he hoped to find the Wine Maiden, he would have to wait until the day the sect attacked the city.

With these thoughts, he quietly led Miss Ruoshui away from the house, hoping to find Santong and descend the mountain together. Yet, as he searched the area, there was no sign of Santong anywhere.

Santong, of course, was still within the sacred ground—though at that moment, he was enjoying himself immensely.

When the sacrificial rites began, Zhang Chi had told Santong to seek out a girl for himself. But how could Santong simply do that? Standing there, watching Zhang Chi and Miss Ruoshui in their intimacy, he felt embarrassed. All around him, the sect’s followers were engaged in their own unions, and he was at a loss for what to do. If he lingered too long, someone would surely notice his awkwardness, and though his own capture would be of little consequence, it might implicate Zhang as well.

“Brother, are you a new ghost soldier in the sect?” As Santong fretted, a woman’s voice addressed him.

He turned to see a woman approaching. She wore simple homespun clothes, her hair adorned with thorns—a country girl, plain compared to Miss Ruoshui’s striking beauty, but not uncomely.

Unsure how to reply, Santong simply nodded vigorously.

Her cheeks flushed with a smile. “Today is the day for the sect’s fertility rites, to honor the spirits. Seeing your sturdy build, brother, why don’t we fulfill the Dao together?”

Though Santong was simple, he was far from stupid; he realized that letting this forthright woman slip by would put him in a precarious situation. Awkwardly scratching his head, he stammered, “I’m… I’m new here, a ghost soldier—I’m not familiar with the customs.”

The woman, seeing how red his face had grown, could not help but laugh. “I know you’ve just joined, and may be a little shy. Why don’t we find a quiet place?”

With that, she took Santong by the hand and led him toward the edge of the village. Though the area was guarded, everyone stepped aside for her, asking no questions. Santong, though too embarrassed to speak, sensed that this woman held a special status within the sect.

They walked together until they reached the outskirts, far from the crowd, where wildflowers bloomed in a tranquil setting. The woman sat on the grass, beckoning with a smile. “Come, brother, let’s do it here.”

Santong, who had never been with a woman, was utterly entranced by her manner. Usually so bold and brash, he now stood frozen, torn between desire and fear of offending her, unsure what to do.

She saw his awkwardness and guessed he was inexperienced, laughing softly. Then she stood, took his hand, and said, “Don’t be shy, brother. Let me show you.”

As she spoke, she began to undress him.

Though Santong was not skilled in martial arts, his broad frame and rugged muscles—marked with scars from his days as a bandit—were revealed as his clothes came off.

It is said that scars are a man’s badges of honor, and for women who favor strong men, these marks stir the imagination.

Still, Santong remained bashful. The woman smiled and reassured him, “The union of man and woman is the way of heaven. This ritual, this act of procreation, has been of utmost importance for centuries. Without it, would the world not have perished long ago? What we are doing is to carry on the heavenly way. Don’t be embarrassed.”

Her gentle encouragement gradually eased Santong’s tension. Clumsily, he helped her out of her clothes. Yet it was impossible for him to be completely at ease—after all, it was his first time, and from start to finish, he never even thought to ask her name.

Beneath the verdant mountains, amidst a field of wildflowers, with the earth as their bed, Santong experienced his first union with a woman. Lying side by side in the grass, he was filled with wonder at the marvel of it all.