Chapter 21 – Tying Colorful Ribbons and Hanging Lanterns, People and Trees Rejoice Together
“The Hundred Clans?”
Zuo Yuesheng and Lu Jing wore expressions of disgust almost simultaneously.
The relationship between the major Immortal Sects of the Twelve Continents could hardly be described as “united.” From time to time, one would hear of this sect and that gate beating each other black and blue over some old grudge. Their bickering and making up was a tangled mess, a debt so rotten that not even Gui Guzi, renowned throughout the world for his arithmetic, would be willing to calculate it.
Only when facing the Hundred Clans did they rarely fail to present a united front.
“It’s these guys again,” Lu Jing muttered.
“What is it?” Chou Bodeng asked nonchalantly. “Are they very annoying?”
“‘Annoying’ doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Zuo Yuesheng said decisively. “I’d rather be a piece of rotten wood at your Taiyi Sect than deal with those fellows!”
In the vastness of Kongsang, when the Eight Extremes were established, there came the Hundred Clans. They govern the sun and moon, creating dusk and dawn.
The so-called “Hundred Clans” referred to the one hundred and twenty clans residing in Kongsang.
Each of the Hundred Clans was a descendant of an ancient god, and together, they were responsible for defining the paths of the sun and moon at different times of the year. The Hundred Clans themselves called this “Herding the Heavenly Orbit”—ordinary herdsmen wrangled cattle, sheep, and horses, while they herded the Golden Crow and the Mysterious Rabbit in the sky.
Kongsang was therefore also known as the “Land of Common Pasture.”
Perhaps from herding the heavens for too long, this group of people, who only ever looked up, felt that the Immortal Sects of the four corners and eight prefectures should also be “herded” by them. They frequently bossed the various Immortal Sects around. Consequently, even the good-tempered bald donkeys of the Buddhist Sect often looked like wrathful vajras when they encountered the Hundred Clans.
“However, they don’t really dare to provoke your Taiyi Sect…” Zuo Yuesheng rubbed his chin and chuckled. “The last time the Hundred Clans argued with Taiyi was three thousand years ago. Your Taiyi Sect Master back then was Yan Huaiming, and Sect Master Yan was truly swift and decisive. While the Hundred Clans were still bickering over who to send as an envoy to Taiyi, he had already led his people to storm Kongsang. It was so satisfying!”
Zuo Yuesheng even suspected there was another reason why the Taiyi Sect had held the top spot among the Immortal Sects for so many years.
—All the other sects were secretly waiting for Taiyi to fight the Hundred Clans again.
“No wonder Taiyi asked your Mountain Sea Pavilion to look after Chou Bodeng,” Lu Jing said with a sudden realization. “If they knew Chou Bodeng was here, even if they didn’t resort to underhanded tricks, they’d definitely find a way to make things difficult for him! Getting back at Chou Bodeng, this Little Martial Ancestor of Taiyi, is as good as settling the score from three thousand years ago.”
“So the face-slapping drama was waiting for me here.”
Chou Bodeng folded the letter as he spoke.
“Face-slapping drama?” Lu Shiyilang, who had recently become obsessed with writing novels, keenly caught the term and humbly asked, “What kind of drama is that?”
“It’s like this…”
Chou Bodeng pondered for a moment, his gaze sweeping over Lou Jiang who stood nearby.
“I accepted the Liu Clan’s exorcism request, and Brother Lou was extremely skeptical of my abilities, stating with conviction that not only would I fail the exorcism, but I would also cause trouble for others—of course, Brother Lou is well-mannered and didn’t actually say it out loud; this is just a hyperbole. But in the end, Brother Lou was helpless while this Martial Ancestor handled it with ease. Thus, he felt deeply ashamed, as if his face had been slapped. That’s called a face-slapping.”
Lou Jiang, suddenly pulled out as an example, wished he had left immediately after delivering the letter.
Being with these guys was truly torture.
“I see.”
Lu Jing had a moment of enlightenment, vaguely sensing a new path he had never encountered before. His gaze toward Lou Jiang, one of the participants in this drama, couldn’t help but be a little strange.
“What’s with that look?” A vein throbbed on Lou Jiang’s forehead. “A guy who’s only ever been a wastrel suddenly claims he can expel demons and eradicate devils. Wouldn’t it be weirder not to be suspicious?”
“Junior Brother Lou, this is where you’re wrong,” Zuo Yuesheng criticized righteously. “Judging people by their reputation is just as much a prejudice as judging them by their appearance! It’s utterly shallow and violates the precepts of our Mountain Sea Pavilion.”
Lou Jiang took a deep breath and, coarsening his voice, perfectly mimicked Zuo Yuesheng’s tone, “Could he be planning to sleep until dawn just to swindle Lord Liu of his gold? His heart is even filthier than mine… Young Pavilion Master, those were your exact words.”
Zuo Yuesheng’s eyes widened. “Junior Brother Lou, you’ve actually learned to sell people out! You’ve changed!”
Lou Jiang returned a concise and powerful “Heh heh.”
“Still, it’s very strange,” Zuo Yuesheng said, gazing south.
“How so?” Chou Bodeng asked.
“Do you remember that ruthless fellow from the Southern Border Witch Clan I told you about, Shi Wuluo?”
“I remember.”
“Shi Wuluo has killed quite a few people from the Hundred Clans. If they were going to fight, they would have done so long ago,” Zuo Yuesheng scratched his scalp, his shallow understanding clearly unable to comprehend the situation’s development. “Why make a move only now?”
“Is that so…” Chou Bodeng said thoughtfully.
“Forget it! Let the old man worry about it himself!”
Zuo Yuesheng snapped back to reality, spread his arms joyfully, and, tiptoeing as if he were a large bird, charged into the courtyard.
“I’m finally! Going to end! This damn exile!!!”
He looked so foolish it was hard to watch.
Before long, Zuo Yuesheng “flew” back in.
“Have you guys ever seen a Golden Crow in person?” he asked loudly. “The main pavilion of our Mountain Sea Pavilion is located near a place called Lacquer-Wu Mountain. In the evening, the Golden Crow carries the sun down from Lacquer-Wu Mountain to rest in the Great Wilderness. It’s magnificent! I’ll take you to see it!”
Lu Jing had been pondering. Chou Bodeng and Zuo Yuesheng were both going to the Mountain Sea Pavilion, and Ye Cang, having entered Taiyi, would surely go with them. Should he return to Medicine Valley, or go along for the sights? Hearing Zuo Yuesheng mention seeing the “Golden Crow carrying the sun,” the scales in Lu Jing’s heart immediately tipped.
“Really? Can we really see the Golden Crow? How big is it? How does it carry the sun? On its back, or chained with iron locks?”
Listening to Lu Jing’s barrage of questions directed at Zuo Yuesheng, Chou Bodeng looked up at the sky.
The weather was fine today. The flight path of the Golden Crow carrying the sun was likely not far from Fu City.
Chou Bodeng thought about how the sun was truly carried by a three-legged bird, and how a Jade Rabbit truly lived on the moon. They rose and set, following the paths people had calculated, and he felt an indescribable sense of magnificence and absurdity. Beliefs that existed only as mythological images had unfolded into reality in this world, in its own unique way.
It was strange, yet familiar.
He tucked the folded letter into his sleeve.
***
“Have you… have you seen the Golden Crow? The one that flies in the sky, pulling the sun! Its wingspan is three… three thousand zhang!”
Lu Jing, surrounded by a group of lavishly dressed girls, boasted drunkenly. The girls, holding wine cups, asked with smiles like blooming flowers just how long three thousand zhang was.
“He’s one step away from saying he’s flown on a Golden Crow bird himself,” Zuo Yuesheng turned his head amidst the music of silk strings and bamboo flutes and the clamor of voices, shouting to Chou Bodeng. “I think if he drinks any more, he won’t just lose his sleeves and hairpins, but his belt too! Young Master Chou! We have to drag this kid out!”
“You drag him out if you want to!” Chou Bodeng glanced at the situation and coldly refused. “Who told you to invite him to Lacquer-Wu in the first place!”
The reason things had developed to this point had to be traced back to the letter from the Mountain Sea Pavilion’s Master.
The main pavilion of the Mountain Sea Pavilion was a hundred and eight thousand li from Fu City. To return, they still had to go to Ru City first and use the teleportation formation there. The Miasma Moon in Fu City had not yet passed, so the elder sent by the Mountain Sea Pavilion’s Master to welcome the honored guest and incidentally pick up his son would not arrive for another two days. Hearing that the immortal elders who had saved Fu City were leaving, the people of Fu City insisted on holding a grand ceremony to send them off.
The one who came to invite the immortal elders to the feast was the new City Diviner, Liu Aren.
A-Ren was sixteen. It was as if she had grown up overnight. Her eyes were clear and determined, and in her dark blue ritual robe, she was as slender and resilient as a willow branch. She gave Lu Jing a quiet smile, and Lu Jing, who prided himself on his experience in the world of romance, was instantly smitten. He slapped his chest and guaranteed that all of them, the “immortal elders,” would attend.
Afterward, Lu Jing wept bitterly, hugging a table leg and “howling” for an entire afternoon. Chou Bodeng, disturbed to no end, had no choice but to agree as well.
Who would have known that the people of Fu City had a custom:
If you respected and admired someone, you had to toast them with wine.
After three rounds of drinks, there was no difference between immortals and mortals; weren’t they all just people?
Soon, they were surrounded by the crowd. After the City Diviner’s toast, it was the turn of the respected elders, and then many beautifully dressed girls enthusiastically gathered around…
After being toasted by a few elders and given a couple of warnings—to be careful with his travel money and not to flaunt his wealth—Chou Bodeng felt ill at ease all over. He decisively pushed Zuo Yuesheng and Lu Jing forward and escaped the crowd.
Zuo Yuesheng managed two rounds before he couldn’t take it anymore and escaped under the pretext of needing the latrine.
Only Lu Jing remained, surrounded by girls three layers deep.
The guy was actually quite good-looking, a pretty boy. But he was already a bit of a fool to begin with, and with the alcohol getting to him, he became even more dazed. Surrounded by the girls, he looked more like the one about to be eaten alive… Who knows which novel started this trend, but recently, girls liked to snip off a piece of their beloved’s sleeve as a keepsake. Now, the great Immortal Lu Jing’s outer robe was already torn to shreds, his virtue on the verge of being lost at any moment.
Zuo Yuesheng cursed.
He grimaced and mentally prepared himself for a long while before finally charging into the sea of rouge and powder as if he were marching to his death, to rescue the nearly-streaking Lu Jing.
Chou Bodeng pulled out a black cloak, wrapped himself up from head to toe, and huddled in a corner to avoid the crowd.
“Flutes dance, pipes and drums, the music plays in harmony.
Offering feasts to the great ancestors, to fulfill all rites…“
Lanterns of all sizes hung from the treetops, and colorful silk ribbons fluttered in the wind. People drank heartily from their cups. The toasting and urging of drinks was no longer limited to the few immortal elders. On the several streets decorated with glittering splendor, it didn’t matter if you knew the person or not; if you met, you had to have a drink.
The entire city was tipsy.
This was indeed a grand feast.
It was a farewell, and also a celebration—a celebration for the well-being of the Divine Fu Tree, a celebration for the city’s survival of a great disaster.
The wind blew, and in the flickering lights and shadows, Fu leaves danced through the streets and alleys.
Like a swarm of fireflies.
They landed on the rims of wine cups, on the temples of young maidens, and on the shoulders of old men.
“…Children played, chasing each other in groups of three and five. At the tops and bottoms of the trees, colorful ribbons were tied and lanterns were hung. People and trees rejoiced together.”
Chou Bodeng tapped the wine jar he had brought along with him in time with some distant drumbeat. He felt that the scene Qiu Mingzi had witnessed on his southern journey three hundred years ago must have been just like this.
A group of children ran past, chasing one another.
As the last child passed a lantern stand, his clothes caught on it. As he ran on, the stand toppled over towards them. Just as it was about to hit them, a hand reached out and steadied the frame.
Chou Bodeng stood up, walked through the crowd, and headed toward the opposite side.
“If you keep staring, I’m going to start charging you.”