They couldn’t reach Mist Town that day, so they stopped overnight in a random city before setting out again the next morning. Cao Yanhua had procured a countdown calendar from somewhere and hung it in the car. The page was flipped to “19,” swinging left and right as the car moved, facing one person then another.
Yi Wansan found it annoying and reached out to yank it down, but Luo Ren said, “It’s good to keep it. A little pressure gives us motivation.”
So it stayed.
In the late afternoon, approaching dusk, the car slowly drove into the town.
The setting sun cast slanted rays across the quiet, peaceful town. The surrounding mountains looked lazy and harmless, exuding a sense of familiarity. As the wheels rolled over the bluestone slabs, one could hear the loose stones rattling beneath.
Few people were seen, but chickens and ducks gathered in small groups, almost functioning as natural traffic lights. Each time Cao Yanhua spotted them, she would stop the car in panic—the Hummer entering the town had slowed to a turtle’s crawl.
Yan Hongshu and Yi Wansan were visiting for the first time and found everything fresh and interesting. Yan Hongshu pressed down the window to look at the scenery outside, feeling relaxed and content for the first time in a long while. Lijiang had been relaxing too, but with tourists now flocking there, it had become too noisy.
She said, “Mu Dai, when we’re old, let’s retire here.”
Mu Dai replied, “Sure, I have property here. You’re all welcome to stay.”
She called Zheng Mingshan.
Zheng Mingshan answered briefly: “The main door key is on top of the gate tower, under the raised paw of the roof beast. Get it yourself. I’ve set up a simple memorial hall in Master’s room, with her ashes and memorial tablet. You know the customs—perform the vigil and other rituals yourself. Also, Master won’t be buried in Mist Town. She mentioned to me before her death that she wanted to be buried back in Baoding. I’m in Baoding now.”
After hanging up, Mu Dai felt melancholy, suddenly remembering what Plum Blossom Ninth Lady had once said:
“I want to taste that strong liquor from the distillery at the crossroads in Baoding City. The owner was from Liaodong and brewed a fierce liquor. Once it entered your mouth, it was like a line of fire burning from your throat to your stomach.”
She said to Luo Ren, “My master must have been an extraordinary person in her day. It’s just a pity…”
It was a pity that when Plum Blossom Ninth Lady had taken her as a disciple, she had already withdrawn from the jianghu, even withdrawn from this world. Mu Dai’s deepest impression of her was the intricately carved silver plum blossom hairpin she would insert into her well-coiled bun.
What she had done in her early years, whom she had loved, what kind of strong liquor she had drunk, and why she had lived out her final days alone in Mist Town—she never mentioned any of it.
Luo Ren was about to say something when the car suddenly shook and stopped.
They had arrived.
He looked at the tightly closed doors of the residence. The first time he had come, it was night. Plum Blossom Ninth Lady had still been alive, and Zheng Mingshan had been eating from a large bowl with his head down, a bottle of white liquor by his feet.
It had been just a few days, yet everything had changed. Life is so long, how could things not change?
Opening the door and entering, Mu Dai felt like a different person.
Unlike the previous days when her master had passed down her mantle and she hadn’t felt anything special, now her master was gone, and her senior brother wasn’t here. She was the sole owner of the residence.
She arranged for Luo Ren and the others to stay in the front courtyard, taking care of everything methodically, while she took Cao Yanhua to the back courtyard.
After Luo Ren and the others finished settling in, they went to the back courtyard to take a look. Cao Yanhua was busy hanging black drapes on the moon gate. When she saw them, she said, “Sorry, I haven’t finished cleaning up yet. It’s not convenient to enter now.”
Zheng Mingshan had done half of these preparations himself, leaving the rest for Mu Dai and Cao Yanhua to complete. His methods never followed conventional rules, but upon reflection, they always made emotional and logical sense.
Mu Dai, dressed in white practice clothes with a white silk belt around her waist and black mourning bands on her arms, was kneeling beside a small stove in the center of the courtyard, trying to light a fire. She was having some difficulty getting started, constantly coughing from the smoke, but she wiped her face and kept puffing with puffed cheeks.
Luo Ren found it somewhat distressing to watch but knew it wasn’t appropriate to help. Yan Hongshu tugged at his sleeve and asked, “What is Mu Dai doing?”
“Preparing disciple tea.”
This was the custom.
—When a disciple returns from outside, what should be the first thing they do when seeing their master?
—Offer a disciple tea.
Luo Ren and the others stood outside the moon gate watching. No one spoke loudly, as if afraid of disturbing Plum Blossom Ninth Lady’s silent spirit that had not yet departed. Cao Jiefang had been leisurely strolling in the front courtyard, bending over by the triangular water pavilion to observe the fish. Seeing everyone gathered here, he slowly waddled over.
Just as his little chicken feet were about to cross the moon gate, Yi Wansan glared at him and stomped his foot. Frightened, Cao Jiefang quickly retreated.
Soon, the water in the pot began to boil. Mu Dai wrapped a cloth around the teapot handle, poured hot water into the tea cups and bowls, covered them, and placed them on a saucer. Holding them with both hands, she walked to the door of the main room, knelt on a prepared yellow silk cushion, slightly lowered her head, raised the tea bowl to her eyebrows, straightened her back, and remained motionless.
She said loudly, “Master, please have tea.”
Her voice was so loud that everyone at the moon gate could hear clearly.
After a few seconds, Cao Yanhua came over and took the tea tray, placing it to the side. Mu Dai prostrated herself, palms overlapping on the ground, forehead pressed against her palms, motionless.
In the past, when performing these rituals, she would often be lazy and act coquettishly with Plum Blossom Ninth Lady. Her master had been indulgent, allowing her to simplify or skip certain steps.
Now that her master was gone, she performed the rituals with the utmost reverence and precision, but her master could no longer see.
Mu Dai’s eyes grew hot, and her shoulders began to tremble uncontrollably. Cao Yanhua, standing nearby, kept waving her hand outward, as if to say: Don’t watch anymore, go back. Come again in the evening.
According to custom, Mu Dai’s vigil should last from sunset to sunrise, but considering the time constraints, she would keep vigil alone until midnight, then join Luo Ren and the others to view the Four Archways.
During this time, Luo Ren prepared for the mountain journey. By rough calculation, they would enter tonight and exit the following night, spending one day and night in the mountains. Food and accommodation needed to be arranged.
He packed several backpacks with food, blankets, and tents. Yan Hongshu, Shen Gun, Yi Wansan took compasses, directional spray paint, and Cao Jiefang to explored the surrounding mountains. They didn’t believe in superstitions and thought that with their experience and combined strength, they could surely venture deeper.
Luo Ren let them go knock their heads against the wall. After dark, he cooked some noodles for himself. Since Mu Dai and Cao Yanhua were keeping vigil and not eating, he didn’t prepare portions for them.
Around eight o’clock, the group returned with dirty faces, naturally forming a line with Cao Jiefang proudly leading at the front.
As expected, they had gotten lost inside. The compasses malfunctioned, and Yi Wansan complained that it was like walking in circles haunted by ghosts. They had marked their path with spray paint, but after walking for a while, they would come across the same mark again, realizing they had walked in a circle.
Yan Hongshu was in even worse shape, having stepped into a mud pit that swallowed her leg up to the knee. If not for Cao Jiefang’s mountain chicken’s natural sense of direction, they might have wandered around inside for who knows how long.
Luo Ren tossed them some instant noodle packets and said, “I warned you.”
Knowing they would have no network access once in the mountains, while Yan Hongshu and the others were cooking, Luo Ren searched online for information about “archways.”
It was the same information he had learned before:
—Archways, first seen in the Zhou Dynasty, were initially memorial structures to honor filial piety, commonly found in gardens, temples, palaces, tombs, and streets.
Luo Ren had already heard from Mu Dai about the appearance of the “Four Archways.” It seemed these archways were used to preserve the box, but why use archways? To hide a box, wouldn’t it be simpler to bury it in a concealed pit? Why go to such lengths?
To ensure they had enough energy, after dinner, everyone took a short nap fully clothed. Just after midnight, Cao Yanhua came to knock on the door, saying, “Brother Luo, we can go now.”
He was also wearing mourning clothes, and possibly because he had just been initiated, he had a somewhat ridiculous mourning hat on his head.
Plum Blossom Ninth Lady’s room was draped with white cloth. Except for the canopy bed, all the furnishings had been changed to accommodate the memorial hall.
No lights were on; instead, large white candles were lit, with flame tips almost as big as a person’s fist, casting flickering shadows throughout the room.
Where a photograph would normally be placed, Plum Blossom Ninth Lady’s urn sat, made of black sandalwood. Above the urn was a silver plum blossom hairpin that had been polished with silver cloth, gleaming like new.
It was probably polished by her senior brother when he set up the memorial. Mu Dai felt some regret about this, thinking it shouldn’t have been polished. A layer of time, a layer of age—polished to shine like new, it seemed as if something was missing.
Luo Ren and the others came in turn, kneeling on the silk cushions before the memorial tablet to pay their respects. Mu Dai stood to the side, returning each bow. After Shen Gun finished his respects, he took out a cloth package from his pocket and presented it to Mu Dai with both hands.
—”To the reader of this letter, hurry to the foot of Cloud Ridge, view the Four Archways.”
This step had finally been completed.
Lastly, Mu Dai kowtowed three times before the memorial tablet and said, “Master, I have matters to attend to, so I cannot stay with you until dawn.”
Having knelt for too long, she stumbled as she rose. Luo Ren reached out to support her. Leaning on his arm to steady herself, she lowered her head to rub her knees, saying, “My legs are numb.”
After she said this, she looked up at everyone. They all appeared ready—it was time to depart.
Mu Dai walked to the bedside, opened the intricately carved hidden door in the right wall, stood on tiptoe to feel around in the hidden compartment near the top, and brought out a silver-eyed bat.
Shen Gun was extremely excited. He took it, barely breathing.
Dark red, as if lacquered, the material was the same as the seven keys from Yin Erma’s house. Certain parts had been rubbed shiny. Two silver beads were inlaid in the eye sockets; when touched, they could rotate slightly. The silver beads changed color with the light and shadow, looking remarkably like shifting eyes.
How on earth did Lu Ban create these things?
A scene appeared in his mind: wood shavings scattered all over the ground, a newly carved bat taking initial shape, while beside Lu Ban’s hand lay the seven keys he had just finished…
Shen Gun took out a measuring tape, wanting to measure its dimensions and make a first-hand record.
Mu Dai said, “You can take photos and measurements when we get back. There will be plenty of time.”
True enough. Shen Gun reluctantly put the tape measure away, looking quite envious.
Mu Dai instructed them: “The fog has already risen outside. Let’s not use flashlights. The brightness of the silver-eyed bat is limited, and the flashlight’s beam is too strong—it could easily obscure the guiding light.”
Is that so? Everyone quickly stuffed the flashlights they were holding back into their bags.
They set off, passing through the narrow path beside the canopy bed, opening the back door, and entering the boundless night and thick fog.
The principle of the silver-eyed bat largely involves helping people avoid sensory deception—when walking normally, people inevitably have preferences, habits, and make experience-based assumptions, influenced by what their eyes see, thinking this path is impassable, that one is a dead end, needing to detour, avoid, or turn.
But in darkness, you don’t need to think about anything; just follow that one guiding light. Thinking about it is terrifying: it might lead you close to a cliff, across a deep ravine, or find a winding but solid path through an impassable swamp.
And these paths, in bright sunlight, would only make you retreat in desperation: “Impossible! I can’t walk there, that’s suicide.”
To avoid potential accidents, Luo Ren took out a long rope from his backpack and, following mountain climbing methods, tied everyone together at the waist—truly “grasshoppers on the same string.” Mu Dai led the way, and Luo Ren brought up the rear. This way, even if one person slipped, the combined strength of five against one would be enough to pull them back.
They couldn’t compare to Plum Blossom Ninth Lady and Mu Dai’s previous journey. Those two were skilled in lightness kung fu, leaping and jumping as if it were second nature.
Cao Jiefang initially trotted along but soon became disoriented, often getting lost under someone’s feet and facing several dangerous moments. Eventually, Cao Yanhua picked him up and placed him on her backpack. Cao Jiefang was happy to hitch a ride, making a depression in the backpack and sitting mountain-steady, looking like a hen nesting.
Walking with their heads down, no one had the energy to talk. For a time, the only sounds were footsteps crushing leaves and dry branches breaking.
Complete silence wasn’t good either; it easily made people anxious.
Especially when there was someone called Shen Gun in the team.
His emotions and preferences always ran counter to the flow.
First, he hummed a tune.
“Yi-er ah, Yi-er yo, stars in the sky point to the North Star…”
Completely off-key, and of all things to sing, he sang about the North Star.
Yi Wansan, behind him, pushed him: “Don’t sing.”
He stopped singing.
After a pause, “On nights like this, things can easily happen. Last time, you wouldn’t believe it, a xenomorph flew out—whoosh! I had a kitchen knife in hand, chop chop chop chop chop…”
Luo Ren, at the end of the line, coughed: “Quiet!”
Shen Gun stopped “chopping,” but he couldn’t stay quiet for more than two seconds.
“When we walk in a long line like this…” he said mysteriously, “Do you know about that child on the Hong Kong subway advertisement? Little Radish walks at the end. What if, as he’s walking, he discovers another person is trailing behind? In my analysis, from a scientific perspective, this kind of thing is…”
Yan Hongshu screamed.
Cao Yanhua, walking in front of her, was startled when someone suddenly screamed behind him. Not paying attention, he bumped into someone else, frightening the soul out of him. As he stopped, those behind couldn’t halt in time and collided in a heap. Cao Jiefang flew about in panic, his wings flapping overhead. Yi Wansan, getting his eyes hit by the flapping, looked up in anger and shouted. The silver-eyed bat ahead, as if sentient, stopped moving forward and circled in the air, waiting.
Luo Ren was both angry and amused. It took great effort to calm everyone down.
Once calm, they realized there was nothing extraordinary—they had only frightened themselves.
Luo Ren set rules for Shen Gun: “No talking, no ghost stories, or else you have two options. First, we tie you to a tree and come back for you tomorrow night. Second, we treat you like we did Cao Jiefang before—tape your mouth shut.”
Shen Gun muttered and grumbled, probably in submission.
Cao Yanhua wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and asked Mu Dai, “Little Master, why did you suddenly stop when we were walking fine? You didn’t even say anything.”
Mu Dai laughed awkwardly and said, “It’s nothing. I just forgot where I was going for a moment.”
She looked nervously to her right.
There, vague tree shadows appeared in the thick fog, with slender branches like countless people with disproportionate bodies.
She must have seen something wrong, overthinking it.
She shook her head, trying to shake away those suspicious thoughts, but there was a rustling sound by her ear, like the voices from her nightmare that night.
—Hide, hide.
—Don’t let her find out…
—Don’t worry, she won’t find it. None of them will find it.