Chapter 81: The Mystery (Part 2)

At this moment, Santong finally understood why Sun Tai’s kin were said to be “carried.”

Not long after they had left Shanyin City, Santong had asked about the luxurious and ornate carriage traveling with them. The woman who called Santong “big brother” had explained that the carriage held Sun Tai’s kin. Yet, when Shanyin fell, Sun Tai’s beloved family was not brought into the city. This had puzzled Santong at the time. Sun Tai’s kin—did they not have legs? Why must others carry them?

Now, however, Santong understood the reason. It was not because they lacked legs—he had seen with his own eyes that the person being carried from the carriage had two legs intact. The truth was, what was carried out of the carriage was a corpse!

It was not that he did not understand, only that the world changed too quickly. Santong felt this deeply. Someone actually carried a corpse around in a horse-drawn carriage, and judging by the reverence with which the pallbearers handled the body, even Santong could not help but be astonished.

The implements these Five Pecks of Rice Daoists used to carry the body resembled stretchers from later times, albeit far more exquisite and matching the luxury of the carriage. A woman lay in the center, her face pale as paper—one glance sufficed to see she was dead.

Yet what shocked Santong even more came next. As the group carrying the woman passed by him, he jumped nearly three feet in the air. He knew he could not afford to seem too abnormal among the Five Pecks of Rice sect, but in his heart he could barely suppress a cry: “How could this woman possibly be Jiu Niang?”

If she wasn’t, she bore at least a seventy percent resemblance; if she was, that made no sense, for the corpse-laden carriage had never entered Shanyin, and Jiu Niang had remained within the city. What was going on? Santong was thoroughly confused.

“Big brother?” The woman beside him, noticing his odd expression, called his attention.

Santong recovered and pointed to the corpse now being borne away. “Is that the Master’s kin?”

She nodded. Santong, bewildered, asked, “But she is clearly dead. Why not bury her and let her rest in peace?”

The woman sighed. “The reasons are complicated. It’s not that I’m unwilling to tell you, but some things are better left unknown.”

Seeing she would say no more, Santong didn’t press. He reasoned it probably wasn’t Jiu Niang, yet the uncanny resemblance suggested some hidden truth. As he pondered, he looked up and cried out, jumping another three feet: “How is it Jiu Niang again!”

He could hardly be blamed for his astonishment. To see the dead and then the living in quick succession would rattle anyone. A large crowd was making its way up the mountain, and at the forefront—was that not Jiu Niang? Santong rubbed his eyes and then broke into a smile: “And Brother Zhang is here too!”

The woman at his side watched his shifting expressions with curiosity, recalling he had once said his greatest admiration was for this “Brother Zhang.” She asked, “Which one is your Brother Zhang?”

Santong pointed to Zhang Chi. “He’s right up ahead. Come, I’ll introduce you.”

With that, Santong hurried forward.

Zhang Chi was scanning the area, hoping to spot Santong, Ruoshui, and Xie Lingyun. When he saw Santong approaching, unharmed, Zhang Chi finally relaxed. He pulled Santong aside, away from the many ghostly retainers of the Five Pecks of Rice sect, and asked quietly, “How is Miss Ruoshui?”

Santong thumped his chest. “With me around, you can rest easy, Brother Zhang. I’ve already hidden them in a carriage—both Miss Ruoshui and that young Master Xie are safe and sound.”

“I never thought you’d become so resourceful,” Zhang Chi praised.

Santong had always seemed dull, but now he was acting clever. Zhang Chi, unaware that a woman was assisting Santong from behind the scenes, could not have known how Santong had managed to blend in so well with the Five Pecks of Rice troops, even securing a horse and carriage for Ruoshui and Xie Lingyun. Santong laughed sheepishly. “It’s not really me being clever—I just had a little help from a sister.”

“Your sister?” Zhang Chi asked, curious.

“Not exactly a real sister, just…” Santong hesitated, unsure how to explain, and gestured awkwardly with his fingers, “It’s like what happened between you and Miss Ruoshui on Kuaiji Mountain, heh.”

Ever since returning from Kuaiji Mountain, Zhang Chi had found Santong’s behavior odd; now he understood—Santong too had found romance on that mountain. He asked, “What’s her name?”

This question stumped Santong. “I forgot to ask.”

Zhang Chi nearly fainted on the spot. “Then how do you address each other?”

“She calls me big brother, and I call her sister,” Santong scratched his head. “But now you mention it, I should really ask her name.”

Zhang Chi was both exasperated and amused—this sort of thing could only happen to Santong. Just then, the woman caught up, saw Zhang Chi holding Santong’s arm, and asked, “Big brother, is this the Brother Zhang you spoke of?”

Santong grinned and introduced them. “This is my sister. Good sister, this is Brother Zhang—a man of great talent.”

The woman smiled politely at Zhang Chi, but as her gaze shifted to Jiu Niang, her expression froze in shock. “Who are you?”

Behind Zhang Chi stood a group of ghostly retainers from the Five Pecks of Rice sect, several of whom had once served the brutal man Zhang Chi had slain. Seeing the woman’s surprise, one hurried forward and bowed respectfully. “Honored Libationer, this woman claims to be the sect’s Holy Maiden, but we do not know if it is true.”

Zhang Chi’s heart tensed. Did this woman know Jiu Niang? Though she seemed close to Santong, the title “Libationer” made it clear she held high rank in the Five Pecks of Rice sect. After all he had been through, Zhang Chi had grown far more cautious, wondering if her relationship with Santong concealed other motives. For now, it was best to remain wary.

If the woman denied Jiu Niang’s identity as Holy Maiden, these ghostly retainers would likely attack at once, making it impossible to see Sun Tai, let alone escape safely with Santong, Ruoshui, and the others. The mountains swarmed with sect followers; if their ruse was uncovered, rescuing everyone would be nearly impossible.

But as soon as the retainer finished speaking, the woman slapped him hard. “Nonsense! Of course she is the sect’s Holy Maiden! How dare you question her—do you have a death wish?”

The retainer dropped to his knees. “I would not dare, I would not dare.”

The surrounding followers, seeing even the Libationer affirm it, hurriedly knelt as well, begging the Holy Maiden’s forgiveness.

“Enough, enough,” Zhang Chi waved his hand. “Get up, the Holy Maiden won’t hold it against you.”

Though Jiu Niang said nothing, everyone had seen just now that the Holy Maiden was exceptionally obedient to this man. Clearly, he was no ordinary figure. Glancing again at the Holy Maiden, standing demurely at Zhang Chi’s side, the crowd could not help but wonder: so the Holy Maiden, too, is like any other woman—she has her man.

Zhang Chi did not know why Santong’s “sister” was covering for him, but for now, he would play along. Since crossing over, so many twists of fate had honed his nerves to steel; though tense, he wore an easy smile. “Where is the Master? Take the Holy Maiden and me to him at once—I have questions to ask.”

He had resolved long ago to kill Sun Tai; now it was even more imperative. Otherwise, with the Five Pecks of Rice army all around, there was no way to get everyone to safety—especially the farm girls he had just rescued from being cooked alive. Zhang Chi felt compassion for them; having saved them once, he could not now abandon them.

He knew the old adage: capture the ringleader first to subdue the gang. Once he met Sun Tai, with Daoxuan’s martial skills, subduing him should be easy, and the rest could be managed as needed.

Though he sensed Santong’s “sister” had likely seen through things, Zhang Chi had no time to dwell on why she did not expose him.

“Let’s go see the Master first,” Zhang Chi said.

…

The Five Pecks of Rice sect had fled Shanyin City in haste, bringing little with them. Though they intended to camp and cook, they had no tents or supplies; all the followers sat on the bare ground under the open sky, and Master Sun Tai made no exceptions. He, too, dispensed with any trappings of authority. Zhang Chi and the others had only walked a short distance before reaching the summit.

After all, the sect was merely a band of refugees, lacking true organization or military discipline. As Zhang Chi’s group moved quickly, by the time word reached Sun Tai that the Holy Maiden had returned, they had already arrived at his location. Though Sun Tai sensed something was amiss, he rose to greet them.

The Holy Maiden was the daughter of Du Zigong and had been named the sect’s Holy Maiden. Sun Tai was but Du Zigong’s disciple. Moreover, Sun Tai had claimed that the Holy Maiden had returned from the immortal isles across the sea to help the Celestial Master’s Dao usher in a new age of unity. Thus, it was only proper that he greet her publicly.

Three men came to meet them, two of whom Zhang Chi had seen before at the Rainy Pavilion. The one in the center was Master Sun Tai, to his right was the Grand Libationer Yan Yicao, but the man to his left Zhang Chi did not recognize.

Off to the side, on a stone platform, lay a corpse. At the sight of it, Zhang Chi was utterly stunned. There was nothing especially remarkable about the body itself—except that her features were exactly the same as Jiu Niang’s, as if cast from the very same mold.

The corpse was well-preserved and neatly dressed. Looking from the corpse to Jiu Niang, Zhang Chi found the resemblance uncanny. Could the sect’s choice of Jiu Niang as Holy Maiden be linked to this corpse? The thought took root in his mind.