The car arrived at Youwu Town just as the lights were coming on. Night had already spread, though not particularly dark—perhaps because the town was near the mountains, it felt several degrees cooler than other places, making Mu Dai rub her hands and legs, feeling chilly.

The navigation system was useless here. She gave Luo Ren directions: “Here, turn, go to the end and take the fork…”

Luo Ren liked towns like this—bearing traces of modern life yet retaining a vintage charm with weathered walls, hanging ivy, and old-style houses. Some buildings even had double doors, requiring one to climb steps to enter. The stone treads of these steps had been polished smooth from years of use.

Halfway through their drive, a large white goose crossed the road, waddling with its neck stretched long. It stopped in the middle, staring down the Hummer, feathers ruffled in a posture of defiance like an ant trying to shake a tree.

Luo Ren said, “We’re guests from afar, let it go first.”

How strange—unhurried and unruffled, arriving here made him feel peaceful.

He watched as the white goose leisurely walked away, disappearing into the dappled shadows of a lit fence gate.

Following Mu Dai’s guidance, the car stopped in front of a large residence.

Even without much knowledge of architecture, Luo Ren knew that such an old house with gray tile roofs and mountain-shaped walls must have belonged to a wealthy family. It had inner and outer gates. The outer gate was an eight-character gate tower with three steps. Stone drums flanked the entrance, and the couplet on the door was carved in stone:

“Peace in all affairs comes only from virtue; harmony in the family brings a prosperous year.”

As for family harmony, who could say—it was said that Plum Flower Nine Lady lived alone, with only hired help for cleaning. This couplet surely wasn’t her idea.

A light bulb installed at the top of the gate tower cast a yellowish glow. A middle-aged man in slippers sat there, head bent over a large bowl as he ate, a bottle of white liquor at his feet along with cold dishes for accompaniment.

Mu Dai called out, “Senior Brother.”

Not waiting for Luo Ren to stop the car, she opened the door and jumped out, taking a few steps forward. With a slight bow, she picked a peanut from the cold dishes and ate it.

Zheng Mingshan said, “You’re here.”

Luo Ren stopped the car and looked at Zheng Mingshan through the half-open window. This man was interesting—sitting improperly, loose and slouched, sloping shoulders and hunched back. At first glance, he seemed completely lacking in vigor, like a defeated stay-at-home husband with nothing to show for himself.

But he only spoke to Mu Dai, his eyes never once glancing in their direction—this showed he had zero interest in outsiders. Even if Mu Dai had arrived in a tank, he might not have spared it a look.

Cao Yanhua got out of the car, feeling the solemnity of the master’s household and growing reverent, somewhat at a loss.

“Where’s Master?”

“She’s not feeling well, took some medicine, and went to sleep first. I originally told her you would arrive tonight and asked if she wanted to wait. She said there’s no reason for an elder to wait for youngsters.”

He raised his eyes to look at Mu Dai: “You just came empty-handed? No luggage?”

Oh, right, luggage. Mu Dai turned around, and the attentive Cao Yanhua quickly handed over her plastic bag, which rustled with friction.

Zheng Mingshan said irritably: “Your Senior Brother has so many good qualities, and you haven’t learned any of them.”

The implication was: you learned only the most tasteless traits.

Mu Dai retorted: “I think carrying a plastic bag, looking like I own nothing, has a certain character.”

“I carry one because I don’t have a car, and it would be too heavy otherwise, so I keep things simple. You said yourself you had a friend driving you, yet you still pretentiously carry a plastic bag—isn’t that just imitating Xi Shi with none of her beauty?”

“You’re so pretty, you’re Xi Shi.”

“Sharp-tongued little girl, be careful or you’ll never get married.”

As he spoke, he raised his eyebrows, his gaze falling on Cao Yanhua: “Who is this little fatty?”

Actually, he had met Cao Yanhua in Lijiang, but the impression wasn’t strong, and he had forgotten him immediately.

Mu Dai said, “My disciple.”

Disciple?

Zheng Mingshan looked Cao Yanhua up and down, but continued speaking to Mu Dai.

“To make a name, establish a school, and accept disciples, you should do things step by step. Why do you always do everything backward, little girl? You’ve barely dipped your toes in the jianghu, yet you haven’t delayed at all in taking disciples. Speaking of which, I once recommended you to Old Yan, and less than two months later, I heard he passed away. That had nothing to do with you, right?”

“Nothing to do with me. He brought it on himself.”

Good, that’s fine as long as there’s no connection. Zheng Mingshan had no interest in inquiring how Old Yan had lived recklessly.

Luo Ren parked the car and walked over, his footsteps neither light nor heavy. The light gradually moved his shadow in front of Zheng Mingshan, who looked up at him. After a while, he slowly set his bowl on the ground, straightened his back slightly, a gleam of light in his eyes, and asked Mu Dai: “And who is this?”

Mu Dai felt pleased. Her master had said that this Senior Brother always appeared relaxed, with no interest in ordinary people. To make him compose himself, the person must be his equal, whether friend or foe.

“My boyfriend.”

Zheng Mingshan was somewhat surprised, though thinking about it, it seemed reasonable.

After a pause, he said: “Oh, a trained fighter, is he?”

“Yes.”

His eye for people was sharp. With just a glance, he felt that Luo Ren was no ordinary person. Being a trained fighter wasn’t that special—the key was that Luo Ren carried a certain familiar scent of a particular way of life.

How did Mu Dai come to know such a person?

Zheng Mingshan maintained his composure, but Cao Yanhua was excited: “Little Master, Senior… Uncle Master, shall we go in?”

Eagerly about to step forward, he had just raised his leg when there was a clang. Zheng Mingshan had picked up his bowl and placed it in a new position, right in the middle of the entrance path, at the center of the threshold, directly under the light bulb.

Then he leisurely placed his chopsticks on top.

In the bowl remained half a portion of rice, a few slices of pig head meat, and several peanuts.

He said, “This door isn’t for anyone to enter. You need the ability—if you want to go in, knock over the bowl first.”

Cao Yanhua was nervous but eager to try. Indeed, the Grand Master was truly from a martial arts lineage, with such strict rules—this was the moment to show his true skills, to demonstrate all he had learned. Perhaps he could even get some guidance from Senior Uncle Master.

Taking a deep breath, mustering all his strength, his face turning red, he flew into a kick aimed at the bowl.

Zheng Mingshan leaned against the door wall, lowering his head to twist open the liquor cap. Without even raising his eyelids, he casually kicked out. His foot landed precisely three inches below Cao Yanhua’s knee with just the right force, sending him staggering back several steps.

Taking a sip of liquor, he said: “Come on, don’t be shy like a little wife. Any move is fine, go for it.”

Any move is fine? Cao Yanhua rolled up his sleeves: Senior Uncle Zheng, don’t blame me for being impolite.

Going all out, he gave it everything!

Grabbing, seizing, waist-holding, leg-lifting, ground-sliding, head-butting—at one point he even tried a feint: “Hey, Senior Uncle Master, Grand Master is behind you!”

Zheng Mingshan couldn’t be bothered with him. He pressed his hand on Cao Yanhua’s head and spun him like a top, then added a kick that sent Cao Yanhua flying.

Luo Ren stood by, covering his forehead with his hand. Mu Dai covered her eyes. Their body language expressed the same idea: they couldn’t bear to watch.

Grief welled up in Cao Yanhua as he lay on the ground, not wanting to get up. Looking up, he saw the bowl right in front of him, standing in the middle of the threshold, like a coquettish, despicable person.

Zheng Mingshan looked at Luo Ren: “This little fatty doesn’t seem up to it. It’s your turn.”

Luo Ren smiled, nodded, and took two steps forward.

Cao Yanhua supported himself up with his arms, inwardly cheering for Luo Ren: Beat him! Brother Luo! Beat him for me!

Zheng Mingshan stared at him, his gaze profound and inscrutable. Luo Ren, on the contrary, smiled openly and generously. After a while, he crouched down and picked up the bowl with both hands.

He said: “It’s my first visit, and I didn’t bring a gift, which is bad enough. How could I kick over Senior Brother’s rice bowl? Senior Brother, please continue your meal.”

Mu Dai held her breath, looking at Zheng Mingshan, then at Luo Ren.

Zheng Mingshan lowered his eyelids, expressionlessly looking at the bowl in Luo Ren’s hands. After a while, he extended his hand and took it.

He said: “Quite polite.”

After speaking, he held the bowl and shuffled inside in his slippers.

Mu Dai exhaled, took Luo Ren’s hand, and said: “It’s fine now, come on, let’s go in.”

The two entered the corridor connecting the outer and inner gates. Looking at their backs, they were holding hands at first, but midway, Luo Ren put his arm around her, and they nestled together, infinitely sweet.

Only after passing through the inner gate did they remember Cao Yanhua: “Cao Yanhua, come along!”

That voice, soft and gentle, passed over the gate tower, over the horse-head wall, and was cast into the deepening night, startling a cat on the wall, a pair of geese in the pond, and several birds fluttering in the grove.

Cao Yanhua sat on the ground without moving, two streams of tears flowing down like waterfalls in his heart.

Damn it, the problem with his life was that he was too simple-minded, too honest—if it wasn’t a test of kung fu but of politeness, why didn’t you say so earlier! Can there be any trust between people anymore?

Almost at the same time, Yan Hongsha and Yi Wansan also returned to Lijiang.

Standing at the entrance of “Gather and Disperse as Fate Wills,” it felt like a different world. Inside, it was still as lively as ever, though the faces had changed again and again. The name “Gather and Disperse as Fate Wills” was truly fitting—the men and women gathered here today would be scattered to the winds tomorrow.

Suddenly, someone pretended to be surprised: “Oh, who’s this? The Border Town Wanderer?”

He was used to it. Every time he returned, hiding or showing his face, he had to endure this jab from Uncle Zhang—but he was prepared.

With a glance, Yan Hongsha spoke with a smile: “Uncle Zhang, look at Yi Wansan’s arm in a cast. It’s all for Mu Dai, he fell.”

Anyway, pushing everything onto Mu Dai would work. She was the little boss lady—as long as Huo Zihong didn’t get angry, no one could be mad at her.

Sure enough, Uncle Zhang couldn’t say much. He glanced at Yi Wansan’s arm, then at the chicken in his arms. Though his attitude remained stiff, his tone had softened: “You’re smarter this time, knowing to bring a chicken back as an apology. What breed is this? A meat chicken? Why is it so colorful? Can it lay eggs?”

As he spoke, he reached over with practiced movements, folding and pinching the chicken’s wings together, lifting it to examine.

Cao Liberation was very angry, kicking its claws in the air, calling out: “He… do… lo, he… do… lo!”

Probably trying to say: What eggs! I’m a male!