Chapter 134

The bad news was that Wei Zhengdao really wasn’t dead.

The good news was that Wei Zhengdao was trying to die.

The fact that he wasn’t dead left Li Zhuiyuan a little disappointed, but his attitude toward seeking death restored his image in the boy’s mind. It even made him feel a bit more vivid and lively.

At the very least, Wei Zhengdao had not sunk to the level of one of those freaks who, in pursuit of immortality, willingly turned themselves into neither human nor ghost.

Though in truth, he had become the kind of freak that even other freaks would look at and call a freak.

This Five Senses Sealing Diagram was the rope Wei Zhengdao had used to hang himself.

He must have hung from this rope for a very long time. Exposed to wind and sun, even the filth on his neck had rubbed the rope black, yet he still had not managed to stop breathing.

Instead, he had contaminated the rope itself and turned it into a cursed object.

Later, that cursed object even required a Dragon King to personally suppress it and smash it apart.

So,

just how filthy had Wei Zhengdao been back then?

Still, when Wei Zhengdao broke out of the seal, the sealing diagram definitely had not yet become a malevolent object. Otherwise, given Wei Zhengdao’s usual style, he would probably have waved his hand grandly and bestowed on it a “destroyed by the orthodox path.”

After it was lost, the sealing diagram gradually brewed and festered over a long span of time, slowly turning into a cursed object, until eventually it stirred up storms and brought disaster to the world. As for exactly how long that took, it was hard to calculate.

Because even Deng Chen’s memories had mostly come into being only after the sealing diagram was smashed apart and scattered. He knew very little about what had happened before that.

Li Zhuiyuan had seen the name Qin Kan on the altar table before. Judging by his place in the seating order, he could infer that Qin Kan was probably someone from the Yuan dynasty.

In any case, there was currently no precise way to determine the year Wei Zhengdao decided to kill himself, or the year he failed.

But one thing could roughly be confirmed: it had already been many, many years.

Which also meant that Wei Zhengdao had probably gone on to try other methods of suicide.

Li Zhuiyuan sincerely wished him success.

The most perfect ending would be that someday, after entering some mysterious place, he would find a set of white bones or a grave, with Wei Zhengdao’s suicide note left beside it.

The note would not need many words. Given Wei Zhengdao’s personality, it would probably say:

“Hahaha, I finally killed myself.”

At that thought,

Li Zhuiyuan picked up the photograph and lightly tapped it against his forehead.

No, that would not do.

If he ever saw a suicide note like that, that would actually be the most terrifying thing of all, and the worst possible outcome.

After all,

what kind of person who successfully killed himself could still leave behind words saying he had succeeded?

So the best outcome should be that no trace of him could ever be found again. No remains, no legacy. Only that would mean he had truly succeeded.

Though that would be very unfriendly to future generations of curious seekers, it was also the ending most fitting for his style.

He had once come, once been proud, once indulged himself, once rebelled. Then, after playing around until he got tired of it all and found it meaningless, after also messing himself up in the process, he pondered a way to die and finally died.

Looking back now at Strange Tales of the Rivers and Lakes and Chronicle of the Orthodox Demon-Suppressing Arts, Li Zhuiyuan truly felt as though he was doing what he was currently doing for Binbin and the others—breaking everything down, grinding it to pieces, and spoon-feeding it to them.

For someone like you, who could write even popular science books with such effortless flair, your ending really must not fall into something so trite.

Li Zhuiyuan’s fingertip rubbed over the sentence on the back of the photograph.

That person beneath the peach tree had practiced Wei Zhengdao’s Black Book and turned into that ghostly state. Li Zhuiyuan had practiced it too, yet nothing at all had happened to him. So very early on, Li Zhuiyuan had begun to suspect that maybe Wei Zhengdao, like himself, had suffered from the same mental illness.

But from this sentence, he could sense anger, helplessness, bitter amusement...

In short, many emotions were tangled together there.

So,

did your illness get cured?

Although Li Zhuiyuan’s own condition had also been gradually improving because of Ah Li, it was like climbing a mountain. If you had not reached the final step, it was very hard to say whether this road could truly lead all the way to the summit.

If only there were someone else’s successful method and path to use as a reference, things would be much simpler and clearer.

This guy had written so many books—had it never occurred to him that someone in a later generation might have the same rare illness? Did he really not think to leave behind some prescription or remedy for future fellow sufferers?

Li Zhuiyuan put the photograph into his schoolbag.

Just then, Deng Chen returned with Tan Wenbin, Yin Meng, and Lin Shuyou.

Lin Shuyou was walking at the very back, head tucked in.

Earlier, he had gone to pick them up, but not only had he failed to find them, he had gotten lost inside himself first. Even he thought it was embarrassing.

Actually, when Li Zhuiyuan had told him to go pick them up, he had intended to instruct him to take the Incense Burner and light incense before going out, but Ah You had run off before hearing the rest.

Given that, in future river-walking trips or other situations, even if Ah You needed to be called in to help, he absolutely could not be sent out alone.

Ah You’s priority ranking for independent action might even have to fall behind Runsheng’s.

Li Zhuiyuan asked, “By the way, where’s Runsheng?”

When the white fog had still been there, Li Zhuiyuan had not sensed Runsheng’s presence.

But Runsheng was, after all, the strongest individual fighter in the group. Even if Lin Shuyou invoked White Crane Child through spirit-medium ritual, he still would not be able to beat Runsheng with all his qi gates fully open.

Logically speaking, he should have been the least likely to get into trouble. But nothing was absolute. For example, Tan Wenbin’s face looked somewhat waxy-yellow, which meant he had probably used the ghost-control technique and paid the price in lifespan.

And Yin Meng...

She seemed completely fine, except that her hair had gone a bit wavy, as if she had taken time out to get it permed.

No one answered Li Zhuiyuan’s question. Everyone had rushed here only after dealing with the unexpected trouble on their own side.

Yin Meng’s pager had broken, so she had not received the message. But she knew enough to call the shop, and Lu Yi had passed the message on to her.

“Mengmeng, Ah You, the two of you go search around the area near the Eighth Hospital right now. Runsheng should be somewhere nearby. He’s probably injured and temporarily unable to move, but his life shouldn’t be in danger.”

That pig’s behavior had already told Li Zhuiyuan that it was actually worried about their reinforcements arriving.

And the one who could truly make it feel threatened was Runsheng. So when that pig rushed over here, it had not been able to kill Runsheng.

Yin Meng said, “Understood.”

Lin Shuyou said, “Got—understood!”

The two of them immediately left the photo studio.

“Brother Binbin, wrap things up here. Ask him about the specifics of what happened.”

Li Zhuiyuan pointed at Deng Chen.

Deng Chen nodded respectfully to Li Zhuiyuan, then smiled at Tan Wenbin.

“Little Yuanhou...”

As Li Zhuiyuan was walking out, he was called back. He turned and looked at Tan Wenbin. “Hm?”

Tan Wenbin had originally wanted to ask exactly how he should wrap things up, or at least get some kind of guidance, even just a keyword or two. But seeing the pale exhaustion on Little Yuanhou’s face, he really could not bring himself to make him think any harder, so he changed what he was about to say:

“Little Yuanhou, head west. There’s a small shopping center over there, and it’s a good spot to catch a cab.”

“Okay.”

It was already dark now. Since the heavy fog had dispersed, foot traffic on the streets had gradually resumed, but vehicle traffic was still cut off because the road was a complete mess and cars could not get through.

Drivers stuck here with no way to turn around were still cursing road maintenance, wondering why on earth the road had suddenly been dug up in the middle of the night.

Li Zhuiyuan left the photo studio and walked west for a stretch, avoiding the blocked line of cars there. In front of the shopping center, he managed to catch a taxi.

After giving the driver the address, Li Zhuiyuan slumped into the back seat.

He was too tired.

Not only had he fought personally and gotten injured, he had also used both techniques and formations. His whole body was now in an overdrawn state.

In fact, what had drained the most mental energy was not any of that. What had exhausted him most was matching wits with that pig in a short span of time, predicting its moves, and digging the pit in advance.

Fortunately, that pig had not disappointed him. The smartest method Li Zhuiyuan had reasoned out was exactly the one the pig had chosen. In a way, it was a moment of mutual understanding between a smart person and a smart pig.

His nose felt a little itchy. A nosebleed was probably about to start.

Li Zhuiyuan took a piece of paper from his bag, tore it in half, rolled the halves into little balls, stuffed them into his nostrils in advance, then closed his eyes and fell asleep.

“We’re at Haihe University. Is this the gate?” the driver called out.

Li Zhuiyuan looked at the school gate outside the window, nodded, and was just about to pay when he noticed that the fare on the meter was nearly twice what it should normally be.

The boy was very sensitive to numbers, and this did not even require calculation. During the day, he had already taken a taxi back and forth between this school gate and the photo studio twice.

The driver had probably seen him fall asleep as soon as he got in and tampered with the meter. Of course, even if he had stayed awake, the driver probably would still have done it after seeing that he was just a kid.

These days, there really were many kind and upright cab drivers in the taxi industry, but that did not change the fact that it was still a mixed bag.

But still—he had only just finished one river-walking ordeal, and now this guy was cheating him on the cab fare?

Li Zhuiyuan had already seen black qi gathering on the driver’s face as he turned around.

That short nap in the car had not refreshed him at all. If anything, it had only made him feel even more exhausted.

The boy did not question him, did not ask anything, and could not even be bothered to speak. He simply took out the money from his bag and handed it over.

The driver took the money.

Within the black qi on the driver’s forehead, faint streaks of blood were already beginning to writhe.

And after taking the money, the driver still dragged things out and did not give any change back.

He had probably decided that since he had run into a young, soft-faced boy, as long as the boy was too embarrassed to bring it up himself, he could just keep the change.

He had seen all kinds of people before, and he knew that there really were people who, when facing strangers outside, would feel too awkward to speak up even after being blatantly taken advantage of.

Li Zhuiyuan picked up his bag and opened the car door.

As he got out, he habitually said, “Thank you, sir.”

The driver waved his hand with a smile. “You’re welcome.”

He was very pleased with himself.

Li Zhuiyuan saw that blood-light had already appeared on the driver’s forehead.

But the boy said nothing. Carrying his bag, he walked toward the school gate.

Just as his Taigong had once said:

Everyone has their own fate. Some people really are pitiful and miserable, but some people... well, they simply damned well deserve it.

...

In the yard,

Aunt Liu was holding chopsticks and a bowl, checking on the freshly pickled vegetables.

The old lady preferred light food, but she also liked variety in taste, and all kinds of little pickles were an essential supplement and finishing touch on the family table.

Uncle Qin was turning over the soil. Even the last patch of grass left in the yard was being cleared away. As the old lady had instructed, there was no point keeping it—better to plant vegetables instead.

There was no helping it. Ever since Little Yuan had started river walking, the old lady’s standards for daily life had become more and more grounded.

Back when he had gone river walking, the old lady had not changed like this.

Uncle Qin felt that the reason must be that he truly fell far short of Little Yuan, even though he had already been an adult when he walked the river.

Because he did not want to admit another possibility—

that the old lady’s mindset had changed because she had grown old.

In Uncle Qin’s eyes, the old lady was the mistress of the household, his mother, and also his master.

Aunt Liu came over carrying the bowl, picked up a piece of pickled cucumber with her chopsticks, and held it to Uncle Qin’s mouth. “Try it.”

Uncle Qin opened his mouth and took it, chewed twice, then commented, “It’s edible now, but it still doesn’t feel flavorful enough.”

“You like strong flavors way too much. If we wait till you think it’s fully flavored, will any of us still be able to eat it?”

Uncle Qin nodded. “Right, that’s true.”

Just then, the floor-to-ceiling window of the first-floor room was opened from inside.

Uncle Qin and Aunt Liu both turned to look at once. Ah Li was standing in the doorway.

Smiles appeared on both their faces.

Back at Li Sanjiang’s house, the two of them had once played the roles of Ah Li’s parents.

Though they were not truly her parents, emotionally speaking, they had watched Ah Li grow up.

But very quickly, the two of them noticed that in Ah Li’s hand, she was holding a crumpled bill.

Judging by the denomination, it was probably two yuan.

“Ah Li?” Aunt Liu took the initiative and walked over. “Is the collection box full?”

Ah Li shook her head.

Aunt Liu pressed her lips together, then glanced upward from the corner of her eye and asked in a low voice, “Then... are you short on Memorial tablets?”

That should not have been the case, because she had only recently restocked a batch herself. At Ah Li’s usual rate of raw-material consumption, she should not have run out so quickly.

Ah Li shook her head again.

Then Ah Li walked out of the room and into the yard.

In the past, Ah Li would only sit just behind the threshold, feet resting on it, staring straight ahead for an entire day.

After Little Yuan moved here, Ah Li would sometimes come outside and look at the vegetables and ants on the ground, or raise her head to look at the clouds and stars.

Aunt Liu was just about to go fetch a stool for Ah Li.

But instead, step by step, Ah Li walked all the way to the courtyard gate.

She reached out and pushed the gate open.

Aunt Liu froze. Uncle Qin froze too.

Ah Li walked out through the courtyard gate.

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