This sleep lasted until the afternoon.
When Mu Dai woke up, the tent had been warmed by the sun like a small greenhouse, with tiny dust particles floating slowly high above, resembling small creatures with delayed movements.
Some people had already risen, while others were still snoring away. A corner of the tent’s entrance had been lifted, making the gentle sound of flowing water exceptionally clear, intermingled with Cao Yanhua’s intermittent voice.
Sometimes it was “Little Luo Ge, Little Luo Ge,” and sometimes “Liberation, Liberation.”
Mu Dai smiled, lifting her blanket as gently as possible. With a quick duck of her head, she slipped outside, carefully zipping the door closed behind her.
So this place was beautiful.
The sun was already heading westward, golden sunlight filling the valley. In the forests above, some unknown birds were singing competitively, sometimes high, sometimes low. The branching river flowed with a continuous rushing sound, with several stones exposed in the middle that could be stepped on to cross—Cao Yanhua was on the opposite bank, running in circles after Cao Liberation.
Luo Ren was by the river, having built a bonfire and gathered a pile of relatively flat stones that he was arranging around the fire one by one. Seeing her, he smiled and said, “You’re up.”
Mu Dai responded with a soft “Mmm,” and went to the riverside. Looking at her reflection in the water, she saw that her hair was a mess. She wet her hand and began smoothing out her hair strand by strand. Cao Yanhua noticed and came running over: “Little Shifu, do you want to use a comb?”
He proudly held up a forked branch, probably picked up from nearby—the branch was cleverly formed with many dense side twigs that, at first glance, truly resembled a natural comb.
Mu Dai was curious: “Let me see.”
As Cao Yanhua handed it over, he said, “It works well. I just used it to groom Liberation’s feathers.”
Mu Dai’s expression changed: “Get out of here!”
Behind her came Luo Ren’s laughter.
The river water was refreshingly cold. Splashing a handful on her face made her feel completely invigorated. She stood by the riverbank bending down, and in that moment when her body stretched open, she felt so comfortable she wanted to sigh.
Maintaining that position without moving, Luo Ren and the bonfire in her world were strangely turned upside down.
She asked, “Where’s Shen Gun?”
“He went to scout ahead, saying he didn’t believe we could only get out with the help of the silver-eyed bats. As for Cao Fatty, he’s been repairing bilateral relations with Liberation for half the day.”
As he spoke, he pointed to a spot halfway up the mountain: “See that there?”
Mu Dai squinted, awkwardly craning her neck to look. There was lush greenery there, nothing special.
“Shen Gun appears there once every 20 minutes. I’m guessing he’s already gone in circles until he’s dizzy.”
Mu Dai burst out laughing, and with this laugh, her arms lost their strength to support her. She got up, dusted off the dirt from her body, and sat down beside Luo Ren.
Only then did she notice that beside the pile of scattered stones were many large leaves, small bird eggs, tufts of green plants, mushrooms freshly dug up with soil still clinging to their stems, and even a tree stump.
“What’s all this?”
“Seasonings, food, tools.”
He pointed them out to her, teaching her to recognize each one—there was fennel, wild ginger, black cardamom, and some plants that, when smelled closely, had an onion scent but looked like grass underfoot.
Mu Dai was surprised: “Are you going to cook?”
“We can only leave after nightfall. Would you rather sit around hungry?”
“Are all these edible?”
“No, I worked hard to find them just to trick you.”
Mu Dai’s eyes grew wider: “Then what are we eating tonight?”
Luo Ren thought for a moment: “We brought instant noodles, sausages, and some compressed biscuits. Those are all edible. Besides those, we’ll have pan-fried sausage, mushroom-steamed eggs, and make a soup. It’s a pity there are no fish in this river; otherwise, slicing some fish would be nice too.”
Mu Dai was delighted. After a while, she hugged his arm and said, “I’ll go anywhere with you in the future, at least I won’t starve.”
Luo Ren said slowly: “You’re too practical.”
Life truly is unpredictable. The journey to Guan Sipailou, which had been depressing for a while, unexpectedly ended as lightly as an outing for a picnic.
Mu Dai tied her hair into a bun, rolled up her sleeves to her elbows, and helped Luo Ren with the preparations. Cao Yanhua was burning the tree stump on the opposite bank, following Luo Ren’s instructions to carve a bowl-sized hole in the center of the stump with a dagger, then somehow light a fire to burn it from the inside out. Once it burned large enough to resemble a pot, the fire would be extinguished.
Shen Gun finally emerged from the mountains, dizzy from going in circles. When he came out, he had a thin stone slab tucked under his arm—probably something Luo Ren had instructed him to find, because after taking it and looking at it, Luo Ren said, “This will do.”
The stone slab was washed clean and placed perfectly on the piled stones, with fire burning underneath, like a teppanyaki grill. He carved several pairs of chopsticks and even made wooden tweezers—long wooden strips carved well, slowly bent over the fire, then soaked in river water to cool and set their shape.
Mu Dai watched without blinking, finding everything Luo Ren did fascinating. Suddenly, she also felt that things could be quite simple; many people truly made life unnecessarily complex.
Luo Ren spread a layer on the stone surface using the sauce and oil packets from the instant noodles. The sausages were sliced into thin pieces and pan-fried. They quickly heated, curling and lifting slightly at the edges, showing a bright red color with slightly golden oily sheen, giving off a mouth-watering aroma.
Mu Dai waited nearby with cleaned large leaves in her hands. Seeing that the sausage slices were almost done, she quickly used the wooden tweezers to pick them up and place them on the leaves. The emerald green leaves with the bright red sausage slices looked particularly appealing. Taking a deep breath, she was delighted.
Luo Ren was amused by her expression. He picked up a slice and fed it to her, his fingers brushing across her lips before withdrawing, then playfully licking them.
Some knowing sparks, crackling with invisible electrical threads, began to dance through the air.
The oddly-shaped pot was also completed. Luo Ren lined the inside with leaves and filled it with water. Many stones were placed in the fire pit, heated until scorching hot, then picked up with chopsticks and dropped into the pot.
When they first began dropping the stones in, there was a hissing sound with white steam. As more stones were added, the water was brought to a boil by the hot stones.
Cao Yanhua was extremely excited, exclaiming that he’d learned something new and now knew how to make a pot.
Throwing the chopped aromatic seasonings into the soup, even cooking instant noodles, wasn’t difficult. The stems of the fresh mushrooms were cut off, the insides hollowed out, and placed upside down. Bird eggs were cracked and poured in, the golden egg liquid wobbling inside the mushroom cups, placed on the stone surface to slow cook over low heat. The original flavor of the mushrooms was gradually released by the fire, and the seasoning packets from the instant noodles were opened and placed on the side, occasionally pinching a bit to sprinkle on top.
Indescribable, countless food aromas, in strands and threads, both comforting and tantalizing, making one want to dance with joy.
Mu Dai knelt to add more wood to the fire pit. Cao Yanhua stared intently at the mushroom egg cups, watching as the egg liquid gradually solidified, trembling golden yellow and creamy white. He swallowed once, then swallowed again. At this moment, all thoughts of the Ominous Bamboo Slips, Guan Sipailou, and the death soldiers were completely forgotten.
With a whooshing sound, the tent’s zipper was pulled down, and two heads poked out.
One on the left, one on the right, with dazed looks—Yi Wansan and Yan Hongsha.
Neither of them was fully awake yet. Yan Hongsha asked, “What smells so good?”
Luo Ren laughed heartily and said, “Get up, it’s time to eat.”
This meal was enjoyed thoroughly. Cao Yanhua held the hot mushroom egg cups with three leaves, blowing frantically to cool them down, yet unable to resist taking bites. The tender steamed eggs mixed with the natural juices of the mushrooms dripped down the corners of his mouth, and he hurriedly wiped them away, not forgetting to mumble loudly: “Pan-fried… pan-fried sausage, save me a slice!”
He added, “This is so delicious, the best meal I’ve had this year, even better than when Uncle Zheng roasted lamb legs!”
Yan Hongsha and Yi Wansan both gathered around the pot, rolling leaves into pointed bowls, lifting noodles into them with chopsticks. Yan Hongsha carefully scooped some shallow soup with leaf pieces, slurped it loudly, then smacked his lips, saying, “Tasty.”
…
The setting sun slanted down, and even the water flow wasn’t as rapid anymore. The river surface was covered with a layer of shimmering gold.
Shen Gun thought cooking sausages on the stone slab was fun and clamored to try it himself. Luo Ren gave up his spot, and Mu Dai stood by frantically directing him: “Flip it! Flip it! Otherwise, it’ll get overcooked!”
Luo Ren smiled, walked to the side, and sat down, then slowly lay down on the riverbank with his hands cushioning his head.
This riverbank had also been warmed by the sunlight.
He slowly closed his eyes.
Occasionally, the dry branches in the fire pit would make cracking sounds as they burned. Cao Liberation ran around the perimeter, and sometimes there would be a tapping sound from its beak, though it was unclear what it was pecking at.
It would be nice to have a beer.
His thoughts suddenly flew far away, to the seaside in Medan, at night, with large mugs of German beer, Qingmu playing the ukulele, light melodies as if they had grown feet, dancing and stepping on the sea surface. Yuris, who had just learned to swim, suddenly burst out of the water, excitedly holding up a continuously writhing fish.
“Luo, Luo, fish!”
Yuris would throw it directly over, the silver fish, wrapped in silver moonlight, drawing a graceful arc through the night sky. As it came close, the fish’s tail would flick, splashing seawater all over his face.
After having their fill of food and drink, they would turn off all the lights and quietly sleep on the beach, waiting.
When night was deep enough, the waves would wash in, leaving trails of light like the starry sky, either narrow or wide, along the edge of the beach. Blue, flickering, mysterious yet vast. The locals called it “blue tears.”
It was a type of microorganism that survived in seawater. After leaving the water, their survival could only be measured in seconds. Sometimes when the waves were too big, the blue tears would float in the air and splash onto his body, the faint light like a soft plea.
Each time, Luo Ren would get up, walk to the seaside, and return that glowing light to the water.
In this world, even the smallest life deserves respect.
…
He had thought that after they died, such days would never return.
This is good. Being alive is good.
Everyone must be safe, must not die, cannot die.
…
Mu Dai lay down beside him; he could feel it.
Looking up, he saw it wasn’t just Mu Dai; everyone was the same—full from food, content at heart, lying without desires or demands, even the stones and soil beneath them becoming intimate and soft.
Cao Liberation slowly waddled nearby. Cao Yanhua said, “Come, Liberation, nothing’s more comfortable than lying down, come lie down.”
He grabbed Cao Liberation and helped it lie down beside him, belly up. Cao Liberation wasn’t used to this position, its two little chicken feet kicking upward. With a roll, it quickly got back up again.
Mu Dai said, “I had a dream some days ago.”
She told them about that night she slept in the cabinet, the room filled with mist, the seven thin, disproportionate shadows, and those whispering sounds.
—Hide away, hide away.
She closed her eyes and said, “Do you think those black shadows might be the true Star Lords? They were originally just indescribable malevolent energy and power, but gradually, after long association with humans, they became more human-like, developing human thinking, communicating with each other in secret ways.”
Luo Ren smiled and said, “Qingmu told many Japanese ghost stories. The Japanese believe that household items and objects, after a hundred years, will gain spiritual energy, commonly known as ‘becoming conscious.’ They call these ‘Tsukumogami.'”
“So in the ninety-ninth year, Japanese people habitually throw old objects into the deep mountains, or perform rituals to purify their homes—if the emergence of ‘Tsukumogami’ only takes a hundred years…”
He didn’t finish the rest, but everyone understood.
The Ominous Bamboo Slips had existed in this world for thousands of years, had seen too many people, and experienced too many events. That they gradually grew to resemble humans, developed human thinking, and even whispered like humans wasn’t surprising at all.
In Hunter Leopard’s copy of “Zi Bu Yu,” there was a handwritten “hide,” and in Mu Dai’s dream, she repeatedly heard that phrase “hide away.” Perhaps the seventh Ominous Bamboo Slip was safely hidden somewhere. But where?
Cao Yanhua said, “It must be in the place we least expect, we should suspect everyone around us, even the chicken.”
As he said this, he cast a suspicious glance at Cao Liberation, who was circling the pot, sticking its rear end up as it pecked at a strand of noodle that had fallen on the ground.
If the seventh slip was really on Cao Liberation, then this “Star Lord” was truly enduring humiliation for a greater purpose.
Mu Dai also silently went through all the people she knew in her mind.
Hong Yi, Zhang Shu, Uncle Zheng, Pin Ting, Senior Brother, Shen Gun, and even people like Ma Tuwen, Wan Fenghuo…
All seemed possible, yet none seemed likely.
Where could it be?
In the silence, Yi Wansan lazily said, “Let’s wait. The Phoenix Luan Buckle will surely give us a hint.”
Luo Ren said, “No need to rush. The less time we have left, the more we need to control our emotions, take it slow, step by step.”
“Before the Phoenix, Luan Buckle gives us a hint, I suggest we should first start with Long Town.”
That’s right, sooner or later, there would have to be a journey to Long Town.
That place was located in the Hangu Pass area, where Laozi had originally sealed the Ominous Bamboo Slips.
It was where the seven Ominous Bamboo Slips had been opened most recently.
It was the place repeatedly hinted at by Water Shadow.
And it was also the most likely place to find the true… Phoenix Luan Buckle.