Tie Ci felt she had no reason to feel guilty—after all, she wasn’t really a lesbian. The reason for that misunderstanding was his fault, but she still withdrew her hand that had been petting like a small dog.
Xiao Wenliu was completely oblivious and continued chattering: “…Although I have no improper thoughts about you, sometimes I think it would be wonderful if my fiancé were like big sister…”
Tie Ci thought of Tie Lin, that little brat—his hair probably hadn’t even grown out yet, right?
Xiao Wenliu continued: “When we part, I want to give you something, but I haven’t finished making it yet. Sister, could you give me that hairpin? I originally thought you two were a couple and it wouldn’t be appropriate to ask, but since we’re all women, why can’t you give it to me…”
So this child still firmly believed that Feiyu was a woman.
Indeed, disguising as a woman to Feiyu’s extent was already divine artistry—even immortals could be deceived.
Xiao Wenliu’s last few sentences were a bit louder. Over there, the cook suddenly looked up and strode over.
As he approached, he asked: “Hairpin?”
Xiao Wenliu said in amazement: “Hey, you really look like a man when disguised—even your voice is so convincing!”
The tall person heard from afar and snorted, thinking he could mimic dozens of voices—even a hermaphrodite’s voice would be no problem.
But the cook’s attention was entirely on those words: “Hairpin?”
“Yes, hairpin.” Tie Ci took the initiative to respond. “But after fleeing all this way, it’s already been lost.”
She said this without a trace of guilt.
Although everyone was concealing their gender, that fellow clearly had more malicious intentions. She had been seriously thinking about the future while he just wanted to take advantage.
Xiao Wenliu sighed regretfully and pulled on Tie Ci, wanting her to make another one: “…Don’t make it bird-shaped—I want a flower. I like cherry blossoms and roses. Sister, can you carve one for me…”
The cook stood nearby: “…Bird-shaped?”
Xiao Wenliu found him annoying, turned around pulling Tie Ci to continue persuading: “You don’t need to trouble yourself finding materials again—just use that shimmering red-gold wood from last time. It was so beautiful, even if only scraps remain, make a small one…”
The cook also turned around, leaning his head over: “Shimmering red-gold wood?”
Xiao Wenliu pulled Tie Ci around again: “Sister, your craftsmanship is so excellent—that bird’s feathers were visible down to every detail. I’m not asking for that level of detail, it’s too much work. Cherry blossoms are easy to carve…”
The cook: “Feathers visible down to every detail?”
The two turned around together again, heads touching as they discussed the cherry blossom hairpin.
Feiyu: “…”
…
After that, because Xiao Wenliu was on the ship, patrol boats never came aboard to inspect, though they did follow from afar.
Tie Ci had Er Dan and San Hai released and kept in the cargo hold where people rarely went, with someone watching them, just not allowing them to come out.
As evening approached, a small island appeared distantly ahead, and it even had a dock—clearly suitable for landing.
People on ships usually feel excited when seeing land, but the atmosphere on this merchant vessel was obviously strange. Some looked expectant, some terrified, some began touching their necks, and others took out amulets to distribute.
Xiao Wenliu watched curiously and had someone inquire. Soon Lan Xian’er came over herself, already properly dressed, and told the group: “That’s Ghost Island. When you all go ashore later, you must be very careful—that island has many tricks.”
“Why do we need to go ashore? Even if our ship needs to replenish food and water, surely not everyone needs to disembark?”
“Our ship is bound for the Western Ocean—a long-distance trans-oceanic merchant vessel. We’ve only sailed for two days; why would we need to replenish food and water? It’s just because of this island—you must go down whether you want to or not.” Lan Xian’er pointed at the island. “Ghost Island is full of evil spirits. If you don’t go ashore to their tribe to request protection, something will happen later.”
“What will happen? Ghost Island, Ghost Island—are there really ghosts?”
“Who knows? Ghost Island used to be just a small barren island with only a few natives. In the past twenty years, whether the natives multiplied or people gathered there, it gradually grew in scale. Then they began dominating the seas—any ship passing the island gets pulled ashore and encounters different situations.”
Tie Ci thought: Oh, random drops of different items.
“One type is friendly natives—you go up and there’s singing and dancing, eating and drinking, experiencing local customs, toasting with jars of home-brewed oyster wine, and entering the bridal chamber with passionate native girls once, then giving some drinking money, celebration money, and betrothal gifts to finish it.”
Tie Ci: …Why do I feel this isn’t friendly at all?
“That sounds fun.” Xiao Wenliu’s eyes lit up. “How much are the betrothal gifts, and are the girls beautiful?”
“Betrothal gifts…” Lan Xian’er looked Xiao Wenliu up and down with little respect. “For someone like you, miss, it would probably be about half of your entire dowry.”
People who had long wandered the rivers and lakes and fallen into mire always felt resentful seeing such pampered young ladies raised in gold and jade, and even after receiving life-saving grace, couldn’t help making a few sharp, bitter remarks.
But Xiao Wenliu couldn’t hear the tone at all. She counted on her fingers and exclaimed: “So at least eighty sedan chairs of dowry? That’s quite a lot!”
Lan Xian’er choked, and after a long while said dazedly: “You have one hundred sixty sedan chairs of dowry?”
“About that. Great-grandmother said one hundred sixty sedan chairs might not even hold it all. Also, property deeds are calculated separately—do the native girls on that island also calculate property deeds separately for betrothal gifts?”
Lan Xian’er was stunned for a long while, then suddenly her shoulders sagged as she said deflated: “Why compare with you, a rich young lady… there’s not that much.”
Xiao Wenliu: “Oh, then it’s nothing much.”
Tie Ci couldn’t stand listening anymore and patted her: “Don’t interrupt.”
Look how she’d discouraged Lan Xian’er—even her interest in gossip was gone.
For common people, twenty-four sedan chairs of dowry was already generous. Lan Xian’er’s imagination was probably limited by poverty—how could she conceive of top-tier wealthy families’ resources?
She said: “Even so, it’s quite a lot. After all, sailing once involves expenses all along the way, plus inspections and taxes. If you give another sum on this island, the profit won’t be much.”
“Exactly!” Lan Xian’er said. “But even so, that’s still the best outcome, because that’s when they’re in a good mood and can treat you this way. If they’re in a bad mood, there’s no bonfire barbecue, singing and dancing—only ghosts to entertain you.”
Tie Ci: “…What ghosts?”
“I heard they worship some White Earth God—some evil deity whose doctrine says this god feeds on corpses. So after people on the island die, they’re not buried but wrapped in white cloth, stored in caves to dry, then offered to the White Earth God. Every household keeps this god at home, though the specific location varies by family. So the corpses are stored somewhere in the house. If outsiders enter their homes without permission or violate some taboo, they’ll be possessed at night and see all sorts of strange things. Neither doctors nor medicine will help—you need the island’s shamans to intervene and make large offerings to the White Earth God to find peace.”
“Then just don’t stay in their houses.”
“Each family offers one corpse at a time, replacing with new ones when available. The old corpses aren’t buried either—they’re placed directly in cliff caves and various mountain caves. That means all the caves on this island that could shelter you from wind and rain are off-limits—you’d disturb them. And if you camp out… you won’t be peaceful either. They have many gods—the White Earth God is just the highest-ranking. Even getting bitten on the ankle by a snake can lead to encountering evil spirits.”
“Maybe it’s human trickery? Have you thought of hiring experts to help?”
“Ship owners have tried before. They even hired the leader and deputy leader of the River-Sea Alliance, the most powerful force in the eastern seas, northern Ning, and Henan regions—famous masters throughout the Great Qian. But they ended up just as disheveled, hanging upside down from cliffs at midnight, nearly falling into the sea to feed the fish. After being rescued, even such experts said they’d seen ghosts… Since then, everyone stopped struggling. Once on the island, they just make offerings directly.”
Tie Ci made an acknowledging sound.
There’s always a way to get your money.
“What if you simply don’t go ashore?”
“Then you’re blaspheming—you anger the spirits and will be punished. Nine times out of ten, you’ll encounter sea pirates who’ll rob your entire ship clean.”
Tie Ci: “…Just that coincidental?”
“Just that coincidental.”
Tie Ci smiled.
What a lovely group of bandits who are so obedient to the gods’ words.
So the people on the ship carried seven parts resignation to fate and three parts secret anticipation—one-third expecting romantic encounters, one-third fearing ghosts, one-third preparing to lose money.
As they spoke, the ship reached shore. By now it was dark, and people craned their necks looking, anxiously awaiting their fate.
Would it be flowers, songs, and dances, or a haunted house day trip?
The small island was completely quiet.
Everyone looked tense.
Suddenly there was a whoosh from the island, and a flame shot up ten feet high. Then flames danced wildly in clusters, the bonfire illuminating half the deep blue sea.
A loud cheer arose from the ship.