What Constitutes an Ominous House
Throughout history, those who practice fortune-telling have never met good ends, nor have those who enjoy seeking fortune-tellers, because they treat human destiny as child’s play, calculating it back and forth. Setting aside whether the predictions are accurate or not, the greed and self-interest that hover on the edge of sin are enough to cause both parties to lose themselves. One wants to make money, the other wants to avert disaster. Both forget that the foundation of being human lies within oneself—all fortune and misfortune, blessing and calamity, are created by the human heart. Instead of examining themselves, they question ghosts and spirits; instead of cultivating themselves, they tend to incense offerings. Those petty scheming questions and answers, that profit-driven flattery and fawning, all reveal the greed and fragility of human nature. They rack their brains, they exhaust their wretchedness, clinging pitifully to the chains of fate.
After Zu Ye’s death, especially after the 1980s, people came to visit one after another. They had heard that I used to practice fortune-telling and wanted divinations. To be honest, for these people, there was no need to use any “Yingyao” methods—just the genuine Zhou Yi knowledge I possessed could send them away satisfied. But I didn’t do that. I only advised them toward goodness. Some listened; some couldn’t hear it at all. As the saying goes, Buddha saves those with affinity—if they won’t listen, no one can help them.
Later, I simply closed my doors to visitors. I’m old now and just want to finish this life plainly and peacefully.
The tree desires stillness, but the wind will not cease. I sealed away sin, took my final bow from the jianghu, hiding those past grievances and resentments deep in my heart, unwilling to speak of them to anyone. Everything about me and the “Jiang Xiang Sect”—all those rights and wrongs—will eventually enter the coffin with me, then return to tranquility and become a handful of yellow earth. But you cannot imagine how strange and peculiar the encounters between people are in history’s progression, just like the flutter of butterfly wings can cause tremendous tremors in the void dharma realm. The grievances of the “Jiang Xiang Sect” affect the whole body with one pull—I, weak and frail, in my twilight years, must once again face that past too painful to look back upon, that hazy and indistinct jianghu.
When four fortune-tellers who suddenly appeared on the streets in 1998 told me that Zu Ye wasn’t dead yet, my heart surged with emotion. The woman who appeared afterward, about forty years old, left me dumbstruck—she told me she was Huang Farong’s daughter. “Ghost Girl’s” daughter? A descendant of the “Jiang Xiang Sect”? Fourth Sister-in-law Huang Farong really hadn’t died? And she even had a daughter? At that moment I felt the world spinning, my mind completely confused. I even suspected I was dreaming—over these decades I’d had too many tangled, bizarre dreams.
My wife gripped my hand tightly, trying to calm my emotions. I looked at my very real wife, then bit my lip with my teeth, only then daring to acknowledge that everything before my eyes was real.
Huang Farong’s daughter and the four fortune-tellers brought news of Zu Ye’s survival, and they were making trouble openly in the Jianghuai region precisely to draw out mysteries sealed for decades—they wanted to force Zu Ye out.
My heart was full of confusion, then a wave of desolation: Zu Ye, oh Zu Ye, are you alive or dead? Do you know how I’ve endured these decades? Life and death, illusions and extinctions, endless entanglements, karma and dharma, right and wrong, the kasaya of righteousness, the mantle of sin—my everything has shuttled and wandered between your death and my life. Your thoughts wrap around endless unknowns, while I only want to live clearly and plainly. Your life is a mystery, your death a debt!
I tried to trace Zu Ye’s journey of not dying, because this would haunt my remaining years. I also tried to compare it with what I knew of Zu Ye’s past—those matters from Er Batou’s mouth. The woman before me was the best proof. Together we felt Zu Ye’s former self—Zu Ye’s evil, Zu Ye’s goodness, Zu Ye’s countless jianghu footprints…
The twenty-fifth year of the Republic (1936 CE), August 16th, dusk, Zhoushan Archipelago.
Zu Ye burst out of the corridor. Outside, flames soared skyward, gasoline barrels and ammunition boxes ignited by artillery shells exploded and scattered everywhere.
Several hundred people howled and ran as shells continuously struck. People were blown to pieces, various organs scattered about.
Zu Ye steadied himself and discovered Pei Jinglong was gone! Before landing on the island, the two had agreed that Pei Jinglong would follow Zu Ye—all the mechanisms in the “Eight Trigrams Formation” came from Pei Jinglong’s hands, and at critical moments he could help Zu Ye. But in the chaos, Zu Ye only focused intently on Xitian Meizi and couldn’t attend to him at all.
Zu Ye stared with bloodshot eyes, scanning the crowd woven between darkness and firelight.
“Zu Ye!” Huang Farong’s voice came from behind.
“Farong! Where are the brothers?” Zu Ye asked with concern.
“I don’t know, everyone scattered!” Huang Farong pressed down her wet forehead hair. “Zu Ye, let’s go quickly! The Japanese army will be here soon!”
Zu Ye could only nod in agreement. Before landing on the island, the secret Council Meeting had agreed: once battle began, everyone runs their own way, and don’t protect the Grand Master—that would make it easy for the Japanese to catch everyone at once. Everyone would run against the river’s flow direction to the end, where boats would be waiting.
Zu Ye and Huang Farong quickened their pace toward the agreed location. As they ran, they suddenly saw someone ahead also running frantically.
“Second Brother!” Zu Ye shouted.
Er Batou looked back: “Haha, Zu Ye!” He stumbled and nearly fell.
The three ran together. When they reached the agreed location and looked out, they couldn’t help but gasp—the two fishing boats meant to pick them up had been destroyed by shells, and several corpses floated slowly in the water. Zu Ye jumped into the water regardless, paddling and searching, afraid that the bodies in the water were his brothers.
Suddenly, among the floating corpses, Zu Ye discovered a familiar face. Ignoring Huang Farong’s pulling, he paddled straight over: “Master Mei! Master Mei!” Zu Ye collapsed into the water. Mei Xuanzi’s emaciated corpse floated in the murky seawater, turbulent waves continuously washing the dust and mud from his face. This great master who once performed salvation rites for thousands of departed souls on the banks of the Huangpu River now seemed so small and pitiful. Zu Ye embraced Mei Xuanzi’s corpse and wept toward the heavens.
“Zu Ye, Zu Ye!” A voice came from the pitch-black water surface. Zeng Jingwu, bringing several brothers from the “Jingwu Association,” rowed over.
“Zu Ye, get on the boat quickly, quick!” Zeng Jingwu shouted.
Zu Ye exerted himself to push Mei Xuanzi’s corpse onto the boat, then climbed aboard with Er Batou and Huang Farong.
“Paddle quickly!” Zeng Jingwu ordered. Several younger brothers rowed hard, and the small boat quickly disappeared into the depths of the sea.
“Zu Ye must have been frightened. The two boats ahead were all destroyed by shells. Our boat stopped in the distance, not daring to approach. Only after the Japanese artillery fire wasn’t so dense did we dare come over…” Zeng Jingwu said.
Zu Ye said nothing. He seemed not yet recovered from the life-and-death partings amid the artillery fire just now. The vast ocean, pitch black—he couldn’t see the end, much less any hope.
Near the third watch of night, the sea breeze came gently, the rumbling artillery gradually receding. The cool sea breeze blew against his face, and Zu Ye seemed to find himself again. After several more hours of rowing, Zu Ye’s group landed at Shaoxing. While it was still dark, everyone quickly headed to Zeng Jingwu’s hiding place.
As soon as they entered, a young, handsome fellow came out: “Zu Ye, are you alright?”—it was Little Six.
Zu Ye patted his shoulder: “I’m fine, I’m fine.”
Since Little Six had pledged allegiance to Zu Ye at Wang Yaqiao’s place last year, he hadn’t left Zu Ye’s side. But for this operation—setting up the trap to land on the island and fight the Japanese spies to the death—Zu Ye didn’t let him participate. Despite his pleading, Zu Ye always believed he was Qi Ye’s man, and if something happened to him right after joining the sect, there would be no way to explain it to Qi Ye. So before the battle, he had him temporarily stay with Zeng Jingwu.
Zu Ye carefully examined this gloomy house: “Brother Zeng, why did you choose an ominous house?”
Zeng Jingwu was startled, then smiled: “How does Zu Ye know this is an ominous house?”
Zu Ye smiled slightly: “Chun tree in front and huai tree in back brings reversed longevity. The west wing is one roof eave higher than the east wing—this is called ‘ghost peering head.’ This kind of house easily produces great misfortune!”
Zu Ye’s deductions demonstrated the profound attainments of a generation’s Jiang Xiang grandmaster. According to ancient custom, huai trees should be planted in front of the house and chun trees in back. Huai means “wood ghost”—it guards the front of the house. Chun means “increasing longevity”—it retreats to protect. So it should be huai in front, chun in back. If reversed, it will certainly bring financial loss and shortened life. Additionally, in ancient people’s courtyard houses, the east and west rooms should be symmetrical, not different in height or misaligned in length and width. If one wing is higher than the other by a section, at night it looks like a fierce ghost raising its head in the darkness—this is called “ghost peering head,” very inauspicious! Although the “Jiang Xiang Sect” had rough origins, they were absolutely not good-for-nothings. Especially the successive Grand Masters all had real goods in their bellies. This theory of Zu Ye’s was taken from the common essential principles of various feng shui schools.
China’s feng shui schools are as numerous as cow hairs. The Xuankong Flying Stars school alone can be divided into hundreds of smaller sects, each with its own set of theories. This creates a major problem: for the same house, Master Zhang says it’s an auspicious house, but Master Li says it’s ominous; the Yang Gong school says it has “fierce evil descending,” harming wife and sons, while the Sanhe school says it has “auspicious stars shining high,” many sons and much fortune. Every school claims to be the truth and that others are nonsense. At this point, ordinary common people find it even harder to distinguish truth from falsehood, unable to reach consensus.
Since taking control of the sect, Zu Ye enjoyed reading feng shui books in his spare time but was often confused by these mutually contradictory theories. Later, Zu Ye thought of a clever method: “choose their commonalities and use them.” Simply put, although various theories change in myriad ways and schools conflict with each other, all schools always have some things in common, and what Zu Ye took was their intersection.
Whether “Form School” feng shui, “Li Qi School” feng shui, or “Destiny School” feng shui, all have common principles for judging fortune and misfortune. These are also principles followed by all schools in China’s feng shui world.
First, if the front of a house is high and the back low, it is ominous. What is front and what is back? “Front” is the direction the main door or main hall faces. China’s territory is generally north of the equator, and people have lived facing the sun since ancient times—sitting north, facing south. So “front” generally refers to south, “back” generally refers to north.
Second, if the southeast is high and northwest low, it is ominous. Ancient legend says Gonggong crashed into Kunlun Mountain, causing “heaven to tilt northwest, earth to sink southeast.” So northwest high, southeast low is natural law. Therefore, if reversed—southeast high, northwest low—it goes against heaven and will produce great misfortune, thus called an ominous house.
Third, if the building’s right side is high and left side low, it is ominous. The first two points discussed terrain; this one discusses buildings on the ground. This principle comes from a feng shui maxim: “Left Azure Dragon, right White Tiger—better to let the Azure Dragon rise ten thousand zhang than let the White Tiger protrude one head.” This means in a building complex or adjacent houses, the right building cannot be higher than this house, not even a little, while the left can rise as high as desired. Modern people look at maps as “north up, south down, west left, east right,” but the ancients took north as the base, backing toward north as the starting point. Reflected in the Eight Trigrams diagram, north is back, belongs to the water element, governed by Black Tortoise; south is front, belongs to fire element, governed by Vermillion Bird; east is left, belongs to wood element, governed by Azure Dragon; west is right, belongs to metal element, governed by White Tiger. This is where “Left Azure Dragon, right White Tiger—better to let the Azure Dragon rise ten thousand zhang than let the White Tiger protrude one head” comes from.
“Azure Dragon and White Tiger” come from the “Six Beasts” theory in ancient feng shui. It states: “Left Azure Dragon, right White Tiger, front Vermillion Bird, back Black Tortoise, Gouchen in the middle, Tengshe transforms into dragon.” Fortune-tellers or feng shui masters often mutter these lines when examining feng shui, but few truly understand. Especially after New China’s establishment, as traditional learning gradually declined, many “masters” without even superficial skills often hold lectures and even publish books, pontificating about feng shui, when they don’t even understand the most basic directional meanings of “front, back, left, right” in ancient terminology.
Fourth, if the house has mountains in front and water in back, it is ominous. Ancient people building houses emphasized “backing onto mountains, beside water”—mountains should be behind, providing support; water should be in front, representing accumulated wealth. If reversed, there’s no support, bringing financial loss and disaster.
Besides these macro feng shui taboos, Zu Ye also summarized principles for judging fortune and misfortune within bedrooms according to ancient thought.
First, bedrooms should be quiet, not active. Bedrooms are for sleeping. When people sleep, their souls rest. If there’s activity in the bedroom, the soul is restless, the spirit scattered, leading to frequent nightmares and poor sleep. The ancients said: when the soul is at peace, there are no dreams. Therefore, bedrooms should be quiet, not active.
Second, bronze mirrors should not be placed at the head of the bed. The Shuowen Jiezi states: mirror means reflection. Mirrors in ancient times were magical instruments for summoning spirits and driving away ghosts. Li Shizhen said: “Ancient mirrors are like ancient swords—if they possess spiritual power, they can ward off evil and malevolent forces.” The ancients also believed mirrors could cause nightmares. Cao Xueqin’s Dream of the Red Chamber also mentions mirrors’ supernatural connections multiple times. Therefore, the ancients were very taboo about placing mirrors at the head of beds, believing mirrors “reflect people during the day, reflect ghosts at night.” Getting up at night to use the toilet, one might see in the mirror things that shouldn’t be seen. So the ancients never placed mirrors at bed heads. Especially when family members died, all mirrors in the house were covered with mourning paper. This tradition continues today.
Third, weapons should not be placed in bedrooms. In ancient times, except for martial artists, ordinary people rarely placed weapons in bedrooms, and especially should not place swords and spears under beds. The phrase “sleeping on weapons waiting for dawn” describes a state of readiness to fight to the death—too much killing energy easily invites disaster.
Fourth, bedrooms should not enshrine divine or Buddha images. Deities are for worship, and worship places should be clean and quiet. Bedrooms are for sleeping. Setting aside the intense noise of marital relations, just the foul odors of bodily functions are enough to constitute great disrespect.
After hearing this, Zeng Jingwu laughed heartily: “What Zu Ye says is absolutely right. This house is the old residence of Ding Wugui, boss of Shaoxing’s ‘Jiantou Hang.’ Earlier this year, Mr. Ding was hacked to death here by a group of desperadoes due to labor disputes. Also hacked to death with him were his wife and two sons.”
Zu Ye nodded after hearing: “So Chief Instructor Zeng settled here. This kind of house—officials don’t care, civilians don’t ask about it, ordinary people avoid it…”
Huang Farong coughed and said in a low voice: “This place is deserted. Though it’s a good hiding place, it is after all an ominous house. If we stay here long, I’m afraid…”
Zeng Jingwu smiled and shook his head: “Miss Huang worries too much. You fortune-tellers believe in these things, but Qi Ye and I don’t. We only believe in the guns in our hands, the brothers under our command. Zu Ye and company can rest here for a few days. After the situation calms down, Zu Ye can go seek refuge with Qi Ye!”
Zu Ye also smiled: “Chief Instructor Zeng is right—a person’s fate is in their own hands. Chief Instructor Zeng assisted in setting up this trap to destroy the Japanese spy base, then risked death to save us—truly, ten thousand thanks. After I bury Master Mei tomorrow, I should also leave.”
Zeng Jingwu’s smile faded. He approached Zu Ye and whispered a few words in his ear.
Zu Ye shook his head: “Many thanks, Chief Instructor Zeng. Qi Ye’s kindness to me is as heavy as mountains. Now that I’ve escaped this life-and-death catastrophe, I won’t disturb Qi Ye. Our ‘Jiang Xiang Sect’ has reached today after over three hundred years—we can’t all be cut down or killed off. Wherever we land, we take root. Tomorrow I’ll naturally lead the brothers to find a way out. Chief Instructor Zeng need not worry.”
Zeng Jingwu opened his mouth to say more, but Zu Ye shook his head and waved his hand—his decision was made.
Early the next morning, several people quietly buried Mei Xuanzi at the foot of the mountain. Zu Ye originally wanted to erect a memorial tablet for him, inscribed “Spirit Tablet of Sworn Brother Mei Xuanzi” and such, but considering safety issues, he abandoned the idea.
However, Zu Ye carefully selected an auspicious feng shui location for Mei Xuanzi, hoping his descendants would prosper. The Jiang Xiang grandmaster suddenly became superstitious, which puzzled those present. They didn’t know if Zu Ye had truly learned feng shui through years of consulting masters, or if his turbulent fate left him nowhere to place his grief. In any case, he selected very carefully—examining dragon veins, wind direction, sand and stones, even picking up soil to smell it.
Around noon, Zu Ye whispered a few words in Zeng Jingwu’s ear, then bowed farewell. Huang Farong, Er Batou, and Little Six followed Zu Ye as he slowly disappeared into the depths of Shaoxing’s streets…
## Death of China’s First Assassination King
Dark night, high wind, withered leaves blown everywhere.
Under lamplight, Zu Ye picked up a copy of “One Hundred Illustrations of Dead Souls” to study carefully. This was a book organized with a personal preface by Mr. Lu Xun. The reason Zu Ye liked “One Hundred Illustrations of Dead Souls” was because the book’s protagonist was also a swindler—an extremely clever, opportunistic speculator who could get through to all key figures from provincial governors down to commoners.
While reading, suddenly came a rush of footsteps. Zu Ye quickly blew out the oil lamp, reached for several iron nails, and hid behind the door.
“Zu Ye, it’s me.” A low voice came from outside the door.
Zu Ye heard it was Er Batou and let out a long breath, opening the door.
“Zu Ye, look who’s here!” Er Batou said excitedly.
“Zu Ye!” A black shadow behind Er Batou pushed him aside, fell to his knees with a thud, crying and speaking: “I finally found you!”
Zu Ye recognized the voice—it was Da Batou. He reached out to help him up, and the two embraced tightly. Zu Ye forcefully patted his back, unable to say a word.
Zu Ye had truly become fragile. During those days when brothers were scattered and the future looked hopeless, he prayed for his brothers every day. At night he often had nightmares, constantly waking and falling back into deep sleep. Finally one day, he couldn’t help but have Huang Farong go to a nearby temple to request an Guanyin statue, which he worshipped daily to place his grief.
Huang Farong and Er Batou understood this was Zu Ye’s greatest low point in life. Zu Ye was human too—humans feel fear, have terror. Heroes are like paper—you can splash ink and wield brushes to construct infinite brilliance and magnificence, but they can also be instantly punctured, flying fragments everywhere, blown and scattered by wind. Zu Ye had reached his low point, like countless heroes in history—when triumphant, “amid laughter, masts and oars turn to ash and smoke,” but once luck turns bad, even heroes lose their spirit, even overlords lose their voice.
Originally, that day after bidding farewell to Zeng Jingwu, Zu Ye disguised himself with Er Batou, Huang Farong, and Little Six, then secretly returned to Shanghai’s suburbs. This was Zu Ye’s consistent method—the most dangerous place is the safest place.
Landing on the island to set up the trap and destroy the Japanese spy organization was Zu Ye’s grand strategy. In Manchukuo, Zu Ye first agreed to cooperate with the Japanese through Xitian Meizi, then painstakingly organized the Yi learning debate conference to concentrate all the “Sects and Secret Societies” traitors together. During this time, he united with Mei Xuanzi, Pei Jinglong, Zeng Jingwu and others to set up the trap on Zhoushan Archipelago, and sent Huang Farong thousands of miles to Yunnan to obtain snake poison—this led to the disaster of tide-watching on Zhoushan Archipelago, seawater flooding in, and ten thousand snakes invading.
If any link in this chain had problems, the trap would fail. If it failed, Zu Ye would die. Death wasn’t frightening—what was frightening was that his infamy as ‘China’s Yi Learning World’s Number One Traitor’ could never be cleared. Life’s greatest sorrow is being wronged! They say history is just, but justice requires time. Zu Ye didn’t want to wait a hundred years, a thousand years! Zu Ye gambled! Just like countless A’Baos in history, at critical moments daring to bet everything—succeed and ‘the power shakes the world and returns to the homeland’; fail and ‘draw the knife in one swift move, no regrets in youth’ (swift blade, no regrets in youth)!
Heaven had eyes and blessed Zu Ye’s success. But Zu Ye also failed—the sect was suddenly gone. The Batous who landed on the island together—their life or death unknown. The sect’s Xiao Jiaos had all been dispersed the night before. Regarding this unreasoned “dispersal,” the Xiao Jiaos were all puzzled, but they dared not disobey the Grand Master’s orders. Each took silver and went into hiding. Without orders, no one dared come out and cause trouble.
Before landing on the island, some Batous asked: “What if everyone gets scattered?” This was indirectly asking about the rendezvous and hiding location after coming ashore.
Zu Ye didn’t tell them the specific address but directly ordered them to rendezvous at the river head on the island—those who could make it would make it; those who couldn’t would leave it to fate. The reason Zu Ye didn’t reveal Zeng Jingwu’s Shaoxing hiding place was fear that if someone fell into enemy hands and couldn’t withstand torture, revealing the information, everyone would be finished.
The more meticulous the plan, the more cruel it is. Now Zu Ye was safe, but what about the brothers? Zu Ye couldn’t sleep night after night. During the day, he sent Er Batou and Huang Farong in disguise into the city to search for scattered brothers. After several days of searching, they finally connected with Da Batou.
Zu Ye narrowed his eyes, slowly listening to Da Batou describe his escape.
That day when poisonous snakes surged into the “Japan-China Yi Learning Friendly Exchange Institute,” the scene was utter chaos. Da Batou took off running. Though not very tall, he was solid—a mass of muscle. Once he started running, he couldn’t stop. Seven or eight people who ran into him were all knocked flying. This fellow ran wildly and was the first to reach the rendezvous point at the river’s end. But when he got there, his spirits deflated—he’d run too fast, so the pickup boats hadn’t arrived yet.
Da Batou anxiously yelled: “Damn it! Damn it!”
At this time, a small boat came from afar. Da Batou stretched out both arms and charged into the water, sliding right onto the boat. Just as he was about to tell the rowers to paddle quickly, he immediately thought that Zu Ye hadn’t arrived yet, so anxious he started yelling again!
Dimly, several more people rushed over from the shore—Mei Xuanzi, Gai Xia, San Batou, Wu Batou, and others.
“Quick! Quick! Get on board!” Da Batou shouted at the top of his lungs. At that moment, a piercing shriek tore through the sky. Da Batou’s ears were especially sharp: “It’s a shell! Damn it!” Not caring whether it was fired in this direction or not, he dove headfirst into the water and fled.
With a bang, the shell exploded. The boat was blown apart, and a piece of shrapnel shot like lightning into Mei Xuanzi’s throat. Mei Xuanzi died on the spot.
By the time Da Batou surfaced again, the shore was already ablaze with flames. Armed personnel resembling Japanese soldiers had also arrived, fighting and killing in utter chaos. Da Batou hardened his heart: “Forget it! Not waiting anymore!” Clutching a piece of splintered boat bottom, he swam toward the open sea.
Da Batou was quite confident in his physical strength. He had lived by the river since childhood and was an excellent swimmer. He swam continuously for two hours and finally grew tired. Floating on the pitch-black water surface, cold and hungry, he looked at the vast ocean and lamented repeatedly: “I’m going to be fish food today, damn it!”
In his despair, a fishing fire suddenly appeared on the dim sea surface—it seemed fishermen were out fishing. Da Batou used his last bit of strength to swim desperately toward the fishing fire.
Da Batou was saved. A couple out at sea pulled up the nearly dead Da Batou. After Da Batou recovered his vitality in the cabin, he drank an entire pot of noodle soup and ate seven large barracuda. The couple was stunned—this must be a reincarnated starving ghost!
After eating, Da Batou pulled out a wad of fabi currency from his wet pocket and handed it to the couple. The Nationalist government had just introduced fabi currency, which was still quite valuable—one hundred yuan in fabi could buy two large oxen. The couple had never seen so much money and were too frightened to accept it. Da Batou roared: “Take it! Isn’t my life worth this much money!”
After coming ashore, unable to find Zu Ye and the brothers, Da Batou could only disguise himself and wander the streets daily, waiting for the call.
“Ancestral secret formula, specializes in treating bruises and injuries, bean sprouts coming out, old empty old wide no…” That day, Er Batou was pretending to be a street doctor to gather brothers hidden in various corners.
Da Batou had observed this street doctor for a long time, but Er Batou’s disguise technique was too formidable—he used the needle-pricking method, all his facial features had shifted position. Da Batou feared he was a Japanese imposter, so he observed for several days before daring to approach and strike up conversation.
“You fraud!” Da Batou suddenly patted Er Batou from behind.
Er Batou was so frightened that a hot wave rolled through his lower abdomen and he nearly wet himself. He turned around: “You…” Da Batou had also disguised himself, his face covered entirely with pot-bottom soot. He originally had a face full of lumpy flesh, and now his entire face looked like a lump of dried dung. Er Batou didn’t recognize him for a moment.
The two stared at each other for a moment, then “It’s you!” They smiled simultaneously.
After Zu Ye finished listening, he laughed heartily. Then he restrained his laughter: “Where are our other brothers?”
That night, Zu Ye still couldn’t sleep. Only near the fourth watch did he manage to fall asleep with difficulty…
In a daze, Zu Ye heard a rush of hurried footsteps. He wanted to open his eyes to look but couldn’t. With great difficulty he opened them, but felt everything was blurry and couldn’t see anything clearly. At this moment, the room door creaked open. Zu Ye was shocked—he had barred the door from inside, how could it open?
A blurry figure walked in. Zu Ye struggled to open his eyes, and suddenly everything became clear—it was Qi Ye (Wang Yaqiao)!
“Qi Ye!” Zu Ye got up and walked over.
Wang Yaqiao silently looked at Zu Ye, seeming to have something to say but unable to speak.
“Qi Ye…”
Wang Yaqiao said nothing and turned to leave.
“Qi Ye! Qi Ye!” Zu Ye quickly chased after him. Outside the room was pitch darkness with nothing there. “Qi Ye! Qi Ye!” Zu Ye shouted.
After a struggle, Zu Ye woke up, touching his head covered in sweat: “Oh… a dream.” Huang Farong from the adjacent room, hearing Zu Ye’s shouts, hurried over. “What’s wrong, Zu Ye?”
Zu Ye wiped the sweat from his forehead: “Nothing… nothing… Has there been any news from Chief Instructor Zeng’s side these past few days?”
“No.” Huang Farong picked up the thermos and poured Zu Ye a cup of water. “Zu Ye, you…”
“It’s nothing, nothing. You may withdraw.”
Three days later, shocking news appeared that stunned both China and the world: the legendary hero Wang Yaqiao had been assassinated in Wuzhou, Guangxi by Dai Li, head of Nationalist secret agents!
The news appeared in the papers. Zu Ye’s entire body trembled, and the newspaper in his fingers instantly slipped away. This kind of grief he had only felt when his own family members were killed—he couldn’t even stand steadily. Despite Huang Farong coughing several times as a hint, he didn’t realize he had severely lost composure in front of the brothers. Then tears burst forth: “Qi Ye!” With a mournful cry, Zu Ye’s legs went soft and he fell to his knees. Da Batou, Er Batou, and Little Six, feeling it in their hearts, all fell to their knees surrounding Zu Ye, tears streaming from their eyes.
The next day Zeng Jingwu arrived, wearing mourning silk around his waist and white satin on his head. When Zu Ye met with him, the brothers embraced and wept bitterly. By the end, their tears dried up and what came out was blood.
That night, Zu Ye and Zeng Jingwu talked by candlelight through the night. Only then did Zeng Jingwu tell Zu Ye about Wang Yaqiao’s recent movements.
It turned out Wang Yaqiao had long been listed by the Nationalist authorities as their number one assassination target over these years. Especially his multiple plots to assassinate Jiang, Song, and Wang made Chiang Kai-shek unable to eat or sleep in peace. After Wang Yaqiao successfully assassinated Wang Jingwei last year, Nationalist agents led by Dai Li frantically tracked his whereabouts even more.
Wang Yaqiao found it increasingly difficult to advance. He gradually realized that relying solely on assassination wouldn’t work—before the powerful state apparatus, even the most formidable lone ranger would ultimately become a drowning dog. Without proper organizational leadership, it was ultimately a dead end. Weighing the various forces in China at the time, Wang Yaqiao decided to join the Chinese Communist Party. Only this organization truly thought of the laboring masses, and only this organization could save China.
But heaven envied talent. Just as the CCP was about to absorb Wang Yaqiao into the party, Dai Li set up a honey trap and shot Wang Yaqiao to death in a hail of bullets. After death, they even cut off his facial skin—extremely cruel and shocking.
After Wang Yaqiao’s death, Mao Zedong felt endless regret. Heroes cherish heroes. Mao Zedong’s evaluation of Wang Yaqiao was: “Killing enemies without guilt, resisting Japan with merit. Small matters lacked scrutiny, but major matters were clear.” This was the ultimate evaluation of a legendary hero by the CCP’s highest leader.
“Zu Ye, join the Chinese Communist Party with me!” Zeng Jingwu said.
Zu Ye was startled. Join the party? The Communist Party? He had never considered this question.
Seeing Zu Ye silent, Zeng Jingwu continued: “This was Qi Ye’s wish before death. Now that he’s gone, the brothers will all respectfully follow his dying wish. Over these years I’ve also seen through it—personal fighting and killing is useless. Mao Zedong said ‘political power grows out of the barrel of a gun.’ Only by joining the organization can everyone’s strength become powerful. With a team, we can accomplish great things!”
Zu Ye still didn’t speak.
Zeng Jingwu was startled, then said: “Doesn’t Zu Ye want to abandon darkness for light?”
Zu Ye let out a long sigh: “Chief Instructor Zeng, it’s not that I don’t want to abandon darkness for light—our situations are different! You and Qi Ye are national heroes. What am I? I’m just a jianghu swindler. You kill bad people, evil people, Japanese—but us? We swindle common people. Some of those rich people aren’t bad, but we swindled them too…”
Zeng Jingwu nodded slightly: “Zu Ye, flaws don’t obscure virtues. Zu Ye destroying the Japanese spy organization and taking the opportunity to eliminate so many ‘Sects and Secret Societies’ leaders was also a righteous deed! Chairman Mao said: ‘If political views are not mistaken, loyal, with spirit of sacrifice, able to work actively, without ideas of making foreign fortune, not smoking opium, not gambling, one can join the party!’ If it really doesn’t work, I’ll join the party first, then write Zu Ye a recommendation letter.”
Zu Ye smiled bitterly: “I came from the mortal world to practice physiognomy. Everything in the mortal world is past. Thunder strikes and fire burns but wind won’t leave. Life and death within the physiognomy gate. I’m the master of a sect with so many brothers under me. If I join the Communist Party, what happens to them? If I don’t care for them, they’ll surely harm the world. If I force them to join the party, who knows if they’ll be accepted. Moreover, the four great sects with centuries of transmission—this isn’t something I alone can decide…”
Zeng Jingwu helplessly shook his head: “How are all you ‘Jiang Xiang Sect’ people the same! That Xu Huaijin (the Grand Master in Part One who set up the honey trap with Zu Ye) also said this! So what about centuries of transmission? Feudal society lasted thousands of years—when the Xinhai Revolution fired its first cannon shot, wasn’t it still destroyed? This is an age of revolution! Revolutionary renewal, Zu Ye, think thrice!”
Zu Ye still didn’t speak.
Seeing Zu Ye’s mind was made up, Zeng Jingwu could only sigh and let it go: “Zu Ye, I’m going to northern Shaanxi. From now on… from now on… we may never meet again. The Zhengjia Alliance becomes a swan song, the ‘Axe Gang’ exists no more in the mortal world. Zu Ye, take care, take care, take care!”
“I want revenge! Revenge! Zu Ye, I want revenge!” Little Six’s hoarse, desperate shouting came from outside the door.
Zeng Jingwu’s tears came again: “Zu Ye, Little Six… I entrust him to you. This lad is stubborn. Zu Ye, please take good care of him…”
Zeng Jingwu left. Zu Ye slapped Little Six twice across the face to steady his emotions, then later risked danger to go to Nanjing with Xu Huaijin and Hua Yuerong to set up a life-and-death honey trap…
During this period, Da Batou, Er Batou, and Huang Farong, after disguising themselves, spent entire days hawking on Shanghai streets to gather the scattered brothers.
Several months later, the Xiao Jiaos hidden in various corners assembled. This was the “Jiang Xiang Sect”! This was organizational power! With one command from the Master, mountains shake and earth moves! Scattered like flying catkins blown by wind, wherever they land they take root. Gathered like hundreds of birds paying homage to the phoenix, they can assemble in an instant!
Still not appearing were San Batou, Si Batou, and Wu Batou. These were all backbone members of “Muzi Lian”! Zu Ye couldn’t eat or sleep in peace. Were these three fellows dead, or had they been captured by the Japanese?
At night, Zu Ye summoned Huang Farong: “Farong, do you regret it?”
Huang Farong smiled bitterly: “No regrets.”
Zu Ye let out a long sigh: “Perhaps Zu Ye was wrong—shouldn’t have paired you with Zizhan… Now, Zizhan’s whereabouts are unknown…”
Huang Farong lowered her head and said quietly: “Life and death are determined by fate, wealth and honor are in heaven’s hands.”
A cold wind struck, blowing the window open. Huang Farong picked up a long gown and draped it over Zu Ye.
“What day is it today?” Zu Ye asked.
Huang Farong calculated on her fingers: “Just passed the Start of Winter.”
Zu Ye nodded: “In your Shandong hometown, what do you eat on the Start of Winter?”
“Dumplings.”
“Mm,” Zu Ye nodded again. “Dumplings, jiaozi, the passing of time. Order the brothers—tonight at the zi hour, we eat dumplings.”
“Ah?” Huang Farong smiled.
“What’s wrong?” Zu Ye asked.
“So many people, who’ll make them?” Huang Farong said with a smile.
“Everyone works together!”
The brothers were all shocked. These people were normally the type who killed and burned, robbed graves and dug up tombs. Asking them to make dumplings was harder than climbing to heaven. But the Grand Master had given the order—they had to obey!
Dozens of people crowded noisily around the Eight Immortals table. Some kneaded dough, some chopped filling, making dumplings in a lively atmosphere. Zu Ye glanced over and nearly laughed out loud. These dumplings were baffling—some standing, some lying down, big ones like donkey ears, small ones like sheep dung pellets, all kinds of strange shapes. After examining them for a while, Zu Ye was surprised to discover that the best dumpling-maker here wasn’t Huang Farong, the female A’Bao, but Da Batou, who always slaughtered pigs and dogs, because he had once worked under a butcher, daily slicing meat and chopping filling, mixing dough and rolling wrappers. Over time, he had developed this good skill.
Watching Da Batou’s callused hands making clever, delicate dumplings, Zu Ye suddenly felt a pang in his heart: How wonderful to be an ordinary person—life, this is life!
Several hundred dumplings took four or five pots to cook completely. When the first pot was done, Huang Farong suggested Zu Ye eat first, fearing they would get cold and taste bad. Zu Ye insisted on not eating. He wanted to wait until all the dumplings were cooked to eat together with the brothers.
Later, Zu Ye had Er Batou bring out several jars of Shaoxing aged wine. The brothers ate and drank, temporarily forgetting their defeat and predicament.
Huang Farong finally saw through Zu Ye’s intention. Zu Ye was consolidating morale. Though the winter night was cold, he couldn’t let the brothers’ hearts grow cold. From Mei Xuanzi’s momentum-building to the great defeat of the Japanese spies, through several life-and-death experiences and wandering displacement, the team was nearly scattered. With Zu Ye present, everyone could still gather together. Once Zu Ye died, “Muzi Lian” would surely be finished. Zu Ye understood clearly in his heart. Though the brothers didn’t say it aloud, they all felt bad inside. The glorious days on the Shanghai Bund were gone. Now they could only huddle wretchedly in this shabby suburban place, barely surviving.
During the feast, a Xiao Jiao suggested returning to the jianghu to operate. Zu Ye nodded: “We’ll talk about it after New Year.”
## Zu Ye Eliminates Huang Farong
After a heavy snow, 1937 arrived.
Early spring was still cold. One morning, magpies on the branches in the courtyard chirped incessantly. Huang Farong said to Zu Ye with a smile: “Zu Ye, there will be good fortune today. Look how happily the magpies are calling!”
Zu Ye was also very happy, a long-absent smile blooming on his face.
Around the si hour, the steward reported: “The Southern Sect Grand Master has arrived! Third Master, Fourth Master, and Fifth Master have also returned!”
Jiang Feiyan’s sudden visit, together with San Batou, Si Batou, and Wu Batou, greatly shocked Zu Ye. He hurried out to greet them.
As soon as they entered, San Batou, Si Batou, and Wu Batou all knelt before Zu Ye, kowtowing and crying: “Zu Ye, we finally found you!” Zu Ye’s heart ached as he quickly helped them up.
“Is Zu Ye well?” Jiang Feiyan looked at the emaciated Zu Ye with concern.
“All is well, all is well. Sister Yan, please come inside.”
After entering the room, Zu Ye and Jiang Feiyan exchanged pleasantries, then San Batou led in recounting the process of their separation from Zu Ye. Huang Farong held Jiang Feiyan’s arm, resting her head on Jiang Feiyan’s shoulder, listening quietly.
That day on the island, San Batou, Si Batou, and Wu Batou had also run fast enough, but just as they reached the agreed location, shells came. Watching the pickup boats blown into the air, these three Batous were also knocked unconscious by the shells. Especially Wu Batou—a piece of wood thrown up by the shell hit him on the forehead. He swayed a few times and fell down.
Then the devils from behind arrived. The two Batous didn’t know what to do when several more shells came. The three huddled together and avoided the huge shock wave. Not far away, several devils who didn’t have time to hit the ground were instantly felled by their own side’s shells.
At this critical moment, San Batou had a sudden inspiration and told Si Batou to quickly take off his clothes. He himself also stripped naked, then stripped clothes from dead Japanese soldiers. “Quick! Quick, put them on!” While pulling them onto himself, he threw another Japanese uniform to Si Batou. Then he put a military uniform on the unconscious Wu Batou while slapping his face: “Fifth Brother, wake up! Wake up!”
Fortunately, Wu Batou had only been knocked out by the wood. He quickly regained consciousness, and San Batou and Si Batou supported him as they walked back.
About a quarter hour later, the Japanese warship arrived. The remaining Japanese soldiers on the island and the “Sects and Secret Societies” leaders all boarded the ship.
As soon as they got on deck, the Japanese separated their own people from the “Sects and Secret Societies” leaders. The “Sects and Secret Societies” people were all driven to the stern, given no clothes to wear and nothing to eat or drink. The Japanese already understood that this disaster was certainly caused by these “Sects and Secret Societies” people. Though they didn’t yet know who, no one would be allowed to escape.
After counting the people, the “Sects and Secret Societies” leaders were all driven into the lower hold to await interrogation upon landing.
San Batou, Si Batou, and Wu Batou, wearing Japanese military uniforms, nervously mixed into the devils’ ranks. Following the team into the cabin, they drank sake and even ate raw fish slices.
At the third watch, the warship was about to dock. Looking at the sleeping Japanese soldiers around them, San Batou made a hand gesture. The three quietly slipped to the deck and, when no one was watching, all dove into the water.
Due to nervousness, San Batou went down almost horizontally. His entry posture was wrong. The instant his body contacted the water surface, the buoyant water surface slammed hard against his belly and testicles. San Batou was nearly knocked unconscious but forced himself to endure the pain and swim toward shore.
After coming ashore, Si Batou and Wu Batou supported him, and the three quickly disappeared into the night. Limping along for forty or fifty li, dawn broke. Seeing a village ahead with a threshing ground at the village entrance, and many wheat straw stacks around the threshing ground, the three found a large wheat straw stack sheltered from the wind, hollowed out a big nest, hid inside, and huddled together for warmth.
San Batou undid his belt to carefully examine his testicles. Both testicles were completely swollen, his scrotum swollen like a large bun.
Wu Batou looked and said: “Third Brother, does it hurt?”
San Batou looked at him: “What do you think?”
“It hurts.”
“Damn your mother! If I hadn’t saved you, you’d have been blown to death on the island! And you’re still making wisecracks!” San Batou cursed.
Si Batou also couldn’t help but want to laugh: “Third Brother, calm down. Chinese medicine says the scrotum connects directly to the Triple Burner. At this time you absolutely cannot get angry, or it will swell bigger and bigger!”
“Oh, is that so…” San Batou’s anger immediately subsided.
“Pfft—” Si Batou finally couldn’t hold it in and laughed out loud.
“You’re also playing me!” San Batou realized and cursed profusely.
“Third Brother, calm down… What should we do next?” Si Batou asked worriedly.
San Batou raised his head to look at the misty distance: “Sigh… I don’t know when this condition of mine will get better. We should find a place to lie low first.”
“Why not return to Shanghai, find a secluded place to hide, and wait for Zu Ye’s summons?” Si Batou said sadly.
“Sigh… We don’t even know if Zu Ye is…” Speaking to this point, San Batou forcibly swallowed the second half of the sentence. This was a highly disrespectful statement.
“Yes,” Wu Batou also grew somber. “Those poisonous snakes scattering everywhere, those shells flying all over—if we brothers hadn’t run fast, we’d have become meat paste long ago! Who knows how Zu Ye and the other brothers are doing.”
“Wonder how Farong is…” Si Batou suddenly felt melancholy. Only at this moment did he deeply feel guilt. He felt that in these years since Huang Farong married him, he hadn’t properly cherished or loved her, hadn’t fulfilled a husband’s duty. Now perhaps… it was too late.
“Third Brother, let’s return to the city. Maybe in a few days Zu Ye will send out the signal…” Si Batou said this aloud, but his heart thought more of Huang Farong.
San Batou let out a sigh and said: “Fourth Brother, you know your brother. I was originally a small-time street swindler. Thanks to Zu Ye not abandoning me, I joined our ‘Jiang Xiang Sect’ and finally had the opportunity to display my abilities. No one misses Zu Ye more than me, but… in my current state, I can’t walk, can’t run. The devils suffered such a huge loss—they’ll certainly conduct a citywide manhunt. If the devils corner us in a house, I won’t even be able to run! And I’ll implicate my two brothers!”
Wu Batou grasped the hidden meaning in San Batou’s words, cleared his throat and said: “Third Brother is right. We should stay far from Shanghai, the farther the better. Once Third Brother’s injury heals, we’ll immediately return to find Zu Ye and the brothers.”
Si Batou was clever all his life, but at that moment his head was full of Huang Farong. He didn’t realize at all that these two brothers were planning to “lay low.”
“Alright, listen to Third Brother.” Si Batou nodded.
And so, after dawn, the three hired an ox cart in the village and headed south all the way to Fujian.
Later, the three found an old Chinese medicine doctor to treat San Batou’s condition. The old doctor prescribed a topical medicine. Every day after applying hot towels to his lower body, San Batou would smear on the ointment. After about a week, San Batou’s lower body began to reduce in swelling. The pain gradually disappeared, replaced by itching—unbearable itching. This itching was more unbearable than pain. He couldn’t scratch it, couldn’t touch it. San Batou could only clench his fists tightly, bite his teeth hard, and endure it.
A month passed. Si Batou anxiously asked: “Third Brother, are you better? Should we return to Shanghai?”
“Mm, let me try, let me try.” As he spoke, San Batou stepped forward and walked back and forth. “Still not good, still hurts a bit…”
San Batou was waiting—waiting for his unspeakable conspiracy to slowly materialize. If several months passed without any news, perhaps Zu Ye had truly died, and what came next would be easier to handle. For this he paid an enormous price. He had to pretend to be in pain. If it hurt, he couldn’t visit prostitutes, or his cover would be blown. So every night he would fantasize in his mind about past brothel scenes, then pleasure himself alone until utterly spent. The next day, he would still walk with a shuffle, still crying out in pain.
Si Batou finally grew impatient: “How about… how about I return to Shanghai first to check things out, and you wait for my news.”
Wu Batou smiled slightly: “Fourth Brother, ‘heads can roll but shoulders won’t split’—that’s jianghu rules! Now that Third Brother has an injury, how can we brothers abandon him?” In his anxiety, Wu Batou used underworld slang. “Piao” meant head, “picking the piao” meant losing one’s head. The meaning was: in the jianghu, one must have loyalty—even if heads roll, you cannot betray brothers.
Si Batou looked at the two of them and fell silent. In that instant, Si Batou finally understood—these two were singing in harmony, seemingly planning to “lay low.” If he argued further now, trouble would likely erupt. When Zu Ye was present, no one dared act recklessly. Now with Zu Ye gone and the group leaderless, the Batous were all ruthless people. Si Batou didn’t dare think further and could only nod: “Fifth Brother is right. I’ve thought it through. Now that Zu Ye isn’t here, Third Brother is… the boss. I’ll listen to Third Brother.”
“Ah—that’s right! Zu Ye always taught us to follow the rules. Fourth Brother, I admire you most! If… I’m just saying if… if your sister-in-law met with misfortune… rest assured, Third Brother guarantees to find you an even better one!” San Batou said arrogantly.
Si Batou felt extremely uncomfortable inside. He suddenly felt particularly lonely and afraid. The brothers from ordinary times suddenly seemed like different people, and every word sounded so grating, but he said: “Thank you, Third Brother.”
“Right now, we don’t have much money left. People must survive. For Zu Ye’s sake, for the ‘Jiang Xiang Sect’ we must survive. I think…” Speaking to this point, San Batou raised his head to look at Wu Batou. “I think we should go out on the streets tomorrow to operate…” Speaking to this point, San Batou looked at Si Batou again. “But… but does this count as ‘laying low’?”
Si Batou’s face flushed red and he didn’t speak. Wu Batou looked at Si Batou and said: “Fourth Brother, say something.”
Si Batou still didn’t speak.
Wu Batou raised his head and said: “I, Fifth Brother, entered the profession late. If I speak wrongly, both elder brothers can beat or scold me. This so-called ‘laying low’ means when the Grand Master is present, deliberately going to other places to operate, deliberately destroying the ‘Jiang Xiang Sect’s’ ancestral law—this is high treason, worthy of execution. But… the current situation is different. We must eat, must survive to find Zu Ye. So this doesn’t count as ‘laying low’! When Zu Ye finds out later, he’ll understand us too!”
“Mm, Fifth Brother makes sense. What does Fourth Brother think?” San Batou turned the conversation, his eyes staring directly at Si Batou.
Si Batou’s heart felt like it was being cut by knives. After contemplating for a moment, he said: “I… think… it makes sense.”
San Batou was pleased: “Ah, let’s listen to my two brothers then! Being the elder brother is truly difficult, ah…” Between the lines, he had already taken himself as the leader.
And so, the three rallied in Fujian and started up again.
After the Spring Festival, Si Batou increasingly missed Huang Farong and Zu Ye. He wanted to find an opportunity to flee. But Wu Batou seemed to watch very closely, almost never leaving his side.
Heaven had eyes. At the critical moment, Jiang Feiyan appeared. After Zu Ye settled in Shanghai’s suburbs, during the Spring Festival period, he sent Jiang Feiyan a letter via a Xiao Jiao. Only then did Jiang Feiyan learn of Zu Ye’s whereabouts. This Grand Master who was lovesick for Zu Ye, loving, pitying, and resenting him, hastily finished the Spring Festival, took care of sect matters, and immediately rushed toward Shanghai.
Passing through Fujian, she suddenly saw San Batou and company operating on the street. Jiang Feiyan thought her eyes were playing tricks. If Si Batou hadn’t rushed forward calling out “Godmother,” she really wouldn’t have dared recognize them.
With one call of “Godmother,” Si Batou’s tears fell like rain, countless bitternesses welling up in his heart. At the same time, one call of “Godmother” also shattered San Batou and Wu Batou’s grand dreams.
Now, having met Zu Ye, although San Batou tried his utmost to conceal his original intentions and only reported pleasant things to Zu Ye, Zu Ye was an extraordinarily clever person. From that moment on, Zu Ye became guarded against San Batou.
But Zu Ye remained impassive. This was Zu Ye—his mind was meticulous, and he would never lose the greater for the lesser. Before you were still useful, he wouldn’t touch you. This was also why when Si Batou later quietly told Zu Ye the truth of the matter, Zu Ye said: “Zizhan, the Nationalists and Communists can still cooperate against Japan—do you understand what I’m saying?” Si Batou nodded vigorously.
That night, Si Batou held Huang Farong tightly: “Farong, I can’t be without you, I can’t be without you…” As he spoke, tears involuntarily flowed. “I was wrong, I was wrong. These years, I’ve let you suffer…” Si Batou cried and spoke.
Life’s greatest sorrow is when one person awakens but the other has changed heart.
Huang Farong also silently shed tears, shedding them for a long time: “Zizhan… perhaps, we’re truly not suitable…”
Hearing this, Si Batou cried even harder: “Farong, I was wrong, I was wrong! Hit me, scold me!”
At this time, in another room, another woman was also shedding tears.
“Zu Ye, everything’s been done, we’ve done what we should. You know how Feiyan endured these months—every day waiting for your news, every morning grabbing the first newspaper, every day praying before the Bodhisattva. Zu Ye, you’re tired, right? I’m tired too. Let’s leave…” Jiang Feiyan said choking with emotion.
Zu Ye lowered his head: “Sister Yan, you know what? It’s not that I don’t want to leave. The Japanese are likely planning major moves.”
“Ah, Zu Ye, you can’t manage all of China’s affairs. We’re just the ‘Jiang Xiang Sect,’ just ordinary beings. Morning mushrooms don’t know the dark of the moon, locusts don’t know spring and autumn. We can’t even protect our own lives—how can we speak of those great spring and autumn matters?”
“Sister Yan, Master Mei was right. The ‘Jiang Xiang Sect’ has opposed the Qing and restored the Ming since ancient times. Now the Qing is gone—who do we oppose? When Patriarch Fang Zhaoyu founded the ‘Jiang Xiang Sect,’ it was to act for heaven, rob the rich to aid the poor. Times have changed, but this purpose hasn’t. Right now the Japanese invaders press in step by step, the Nationalist authorities are obsessed with civil war, common people’s lives are unbearable. If we leave, how can we bear it in our hearts? Moreover, these brothers are mixed in quality—will they assist tyranny? We’re like that old ox—once harnessed, we can’t free ourselves for life.”
The last sentence made Jiang Feiyan weep. Indeed, since she took over the sect from Qiao Wumei, only she knew the bitterness and exhaustion. Wearing furs, eating bird’s nest, adorning gold and silver, applying powder and rouge—all these couldn’t match the hidden throbbing pain in her heart. Taking this position was like an ox pulling a harness—until death, unable to free herself.
Zu Ye wiped the tears from Jiang Feiyan’s eyes, sighed, and said: “Sister Yan, I must do something that will pain your heart even more…”
Jiang Feiyan blinked: “What?”
Zu Ye contemplated for a moment, then slowly said: “I must eliminate Farong!”
“Ah?” Jiang Feiyan shot up, looking at Zu Ye in horror.
“Farong is clever, but too clever—clever with viciousness mixed in. If this continues, I fear great trouble will arise.”
“Zu Ye, why do you say this?” Jiang Feiyan didn’t understand.
Zu Ye looked at Jiang Feiyan and said in a low voice: “She killed Pei Jinglong.”
“What? Who said so?” Jiang Feiyan was so shocked her mouth gaped wide open.
“Sister Yan, the matter of laying poison at Zhoushan—you know, I know, the Batous all know. We knew the Japanese would inspect every item brought onto the island by each person, and Japanese poison masters were also present. We had no way to use normal bottles and jars to bring poisonous insects onto the island. In the end, we had no choice but to risk placing negative poison insects inside our own bodies. Each of us held antidotes under our gums. We only needed to wait until the tide flooded in and poisonous snakes invaded, then bite and crush the antidote. That way the poisonous snakes from surrounding islands carrying positive poison insects wouldn’t attack us. But San Batou told me he personally saw Pei Jinglong besieged by dozens of poisonous snakes, finally collapsing desperately into the seawater. The poison placement and antidotes were all handled solely by Farong. The only possibility is… Farong tampered with Pei Jinglong’s antidote, which is why he couldn’t escape. A generation of talent died just like that, unclear and unexplained!”
“Ah? Why would Farong do this?” Jiang Feiyan’s eyes nearly bulged out.
“Farong suffered since childhood, endured endless bullying. Her vigilance and jealousy are both extremely strong. I estimate she feared that in the future I would recruit Pei Jinglong, which would threaten her and Zizhan’s position. Sister Yan, think about it—in the Eastern and Southern Sects, the one with the most real ability is Farong. Her ambition is great. She absolutely cannot tolerate another truly capable person joining the sect. As the saying goes, one mountain cannot contain two tigers. In the past during the Three Kingdoms when heroes competed, Sleeping Dragon and Young Phoenix were jealous of each other—what about us lesser folk? So she was possessed and took this step…”
“Could there be a mistake?” Jiang Feiyan was sweating.
“No mistake! These past months, whenever I mention Pei Jinglong, her expression is wrong—she always tries to change the subject. And also…”
“What else?”
Zu Ye’s face actually reddened: “Also, she and Zizhan are finished. If this continues, I fear… I fear it will endanger the ‘Jiang Xiang Sect’s’ reputation.”
Jiang Feiyan immediately understood: “Earlier Farong told me she has feelings for Zu Ye…” Jiang Feiyan also couldn’t continue. “Ah, this child—truly too clever for her own good! Zu Ye… can you please show mercy and spare Farong?” Jiang Feiyan realized the seriousness of the matter.
Zu Ye sighed mournfully: “Ah! It’s not that I didn’t give her chances. I reminded her three or five times not to be too clever. She never listened. Sister Yan surely knows the ‘Jiang Xiang Sect’s’ rules—discussing the sect’s successor behind their back or causing chaos in the sect are both capital offenses. Now she’s also killed Pei Jinglong. Brother Pei has a sixty-year-old mother above and wife and children below. His whole life was upright and honest, and he was a Yi learning prodigy. For the sake of national righteousness, he resolutely landed on the island with me. Perhaps he knew early on that it was more dangerous than safe. Before landing, he told me that if anything happened to him, he would entrust his old mother to me. Whose life isn’t a life? Who wants to die? Farong’s life is a life, Pei Jinglong’s life is also a life. Farong must die to comfort Brother Pei’s spirit in heaven!”
“Zu Ye!” Jiang Feiyan panicked. “Zu Ye!”
“Sister Yan need not plead for her anymore!” Having said this, Zu Ye swept his sleeves and turned into the inner room.
“Zu Ye, she’s my daughter!” Jiang Feiyan said loudly, then suddenly gave a cold laugh. “Hehe, Zu Ye has such scheming. So Zu Ye wanted to eliminate Farong long ago but held back, waiting until after the Zhoushan trap was broken to take action. This way he could both stabilize morale and let Farong work and exert herself without complaints or regrets. Now that Pei Jinglong has conveniently died, Zu Ye has finally found the perfect excuse!”
Zu Ye was startled. He wanted to say something but forcibly swallowed it back. Finally, he helplessly shook his head: “If Sister Yan insists on thinking this way, I have nothing to defend.”
Late at night, the more Jiang Feiyan thought, the more grief-stricken she became: “No, absolutely cannot let Zu Ye kill Farong! Of the thirty-six stratagems, fleeing is best!”
She secretly summoned her personal maid Yuling, whispered a few words in her ear, and the maid left to carry out orders.
At the fifth watch, Jiang Feiyan waited tensely at the ferry. In the darkness, two figures hurried over.
Huang Farong saw Jiang Feiyan from afar, quickly ran over, and said with a smile: “Godmother, what’s wrong? Sister Yuling said you wanted to talk with me. Why chat here?”
Jiang Feiyan went up and slapped Huang Farong across the face: “You’ve caused great disaster!” Having said this, tears burst forth.
Huang Farong’s hair knot was shaken loose across her forehead. Crying, she asked: “Godmother, what’s wrong?”
Jiang Feiyan said in a low voice: “Let me ask you—did you kill Pei Jinglong?”
Huang Farong bit her lip and nodded.
“My daughter, you’ve been foolish! You’ve committed a monstrous crime—Zu Ye wants to kill you!” Jiang Feiyan spoke while wiping tears from her face, turning back to tell the maid: “Quick, get her on the boat! Go to Guangzhou first, get some gold and silver from the sect, then send her to Nanyang!”
“Godmother!” Huang Farong gave a heart-wrenching scream, fell to her knees with a thud, tears flowing like springs. “Godmother!”
“Daughter,” Jiang Feiyan embraced her in her arms. “Daughter, listen to me—never come back in this life! Never come back—Zu Ye means what he says! Forget Zhang Zizhan, and forget Zu Ye too!”
“Mother,” Huang Farong buried her head deep in Jiang Feiyan’s embrace, tears soaking through clothes. “Mother, I’m scared, I don’t want to leave…”
“Good daughter, leaving is good, leaving is good! Listen to Godmother. Earlier when Fifth Grandmother (Qiao Wumei) was alive, I couldn’t let you go. Now there’s finally an opportunity. Godmother won’t abandon you—someone will meet you there. Remember, from now on you cannot be called Huang Farong anymore. Change your name, be a good person, be a good person!”
“Mother…” Huang Farong’s tears streamed down. Using all her strength, she shouted: “I was wrong, I was wrong!”
“Go quickly! If you don’t go now, it’ll be too late! Yuling, take her quickly…”
Suddenly, Jiang Feiyan stopped speaking. She discovered a figure in the darkness walking over, carrying enormous authority and killing intent.
Jiang Feiyan’s body trembled involuntarily. Huang Farong also stopped crying. She too saw Zu Ye slowly approaching in the darkness.
“Stop!” Jiang Feiyan suddenly raised her voice. “You stop!” She pulled a gun from her bosom and aimed it at Zu Ye.
Zu Ye continued walking forward.
“You stop!” Jiang Feiyan shouted hoarsely, then turned the gun barrel to aim at her own head.
Zu Ye was startled.
Huang Farong’s legs went soft. She fell to her knees with a thud, sobbing quietly: “Zu Ye, I was wrong.”
Zu Ye slowly raised his gun, aiming at Huang Farong’s head. The air froze. Except for the river sounds, there were only heartbeat sounds.
Zu Ye’s finger slowly pulled the trigger. Once the gun fired, Huang Farong would be finished.
Jiang Feiyan looked desperately at the heartless Zu Ye, tears flowing unceasingly.
“Wrong! Wrong!” At the critical moment, the little maid Yuling spoke up. “Sister Farong is Yan Mother’s daughter. Even if executing family law, it should be the Grand Master of ‘Yue Haitang’ who executes it. Patriarch Fang Zhaoyu left instructions—the four great sects cannot interfere in each other’s internal affairs. Zu Ye, you’re wrong, you’re wrong!”
Zu Ye was startled again.
At this moment, Jiang Feiyan also recovered from despair. She immediately regained the dignity and cleverness of a Grand Master. She turned the gun to aim at Huang Farong: “Fine, I’ll execute family law! I’ll execute family law!”
Having said this, she quickly pulled the trigger. Bang, bang—two gunshots, and Huang Farong fell.
Zu Ye stood there dumbly, speechless. Maid Yuling was so frightened she covered her mouth with both hands, not daring to breathe heavily.
“Zu Ye, are you satisfied now?” Jiang Feiyan’s tears burst forth. “Are you satisfied!”
Zu Ye said nothing and turned to walk into the darkness.
A cold wind struck. Jiang Feiyan’s whole body shivered. Her emotions had fallen to rock bottom.
“Get her on the boat. If she’s fated to live, she can survive tonight. After landing, find her a doctor. If she dies, that’s her bad fate…” Jiang Feiyan said coldly to the maid.
Yuling, utterly distraught, dragged the bleeding Huang Farong onto the boat. The boatman, who had already received several hundred yuan in fabi from Jiang Feiyan, rowed desperately away.
Jiang Feiyan composed herself for a moment, shook the gun in her hand, bit her teeth, and fired a shot at her own arm—bang. Blood gushed out. Then she fired all the remaining bullets into the sky. The gunshots shattered the night sky’s silence. Dog barks and rooster crows became chaotic.
Jiang Feiyan desperately ran back to Zu Ye’s residence. Upon entering, she shouted: “Terrible, terrible, the Japanese have caught up!” One shout woke everyone. People chaotically threw on clothes and ran to the courtyard.
Zu Ye looked at Jiang Feiyan, then said to everyone: “Evacuate quickly!”
Everyone ran out through the alley, running in one breath for dozens of li.
Dawn broke. Seeing a village ahead, Zu Ye’s group stopped.
“Where’s Farong?” Si Batou suddenly asked.
Jiang Feiyan, breathing heavily, said: “Farong and Yuling were taking a walk with me when suddenly a group of people came over. Looking closely, they were devils. One devil seemed to recognize Farong and shouted while rushing to grab people. We shot while running. Farong and Yuling covered the rear. I came to report. Wait a bit—they should arrive soon…”
An hour passed, two hours passed, one month passed, two months passed… spring passed, summer arrived.
“Where’s Farong?” Si Batou was already mentally disturbed. “Where’s Farong?”
Living person not seen, dead body not seen—Farong and Yuling just “disappeared” like that.
Half a year later, Jiang Feiyan finally understood. One night, she silently visited Zu Ye and said to him: “Regarding Farong’s matter, thank you, Zu Ye.”
Zu Ye’s face was expressionless: “Dead is dead. Don’t mention it again.”
Zu Ye knew that night Jiang Feiyan perhaps hadn’t hit Huang Farong’s vital points. He didn’t examine the body, nor did he fire a supplementary shot. Actually, at that moment he also hesitated. He just couldn’t comfort Pei Jinglong’s spirit in heaven. He felt that what was sinful wasn’t just Huang Farong, but himself and the entire “Jiang Xiang Sect.” Under the tiger-skin banner of acting for heaven, what made everyone become so vicious? If a group of soulless walking corpses who had lost their humanity gathered together to act for heaven, their “way” was the ghost way—after consuming all human flesh and blood, they would devour each other. Zu Ye’s heart was full of confusion. He didn’t dare think further.
The person most heartbroken by Huang Farong’s “disappearance” was Si Batou. Having just awakened and sworn to cherish Huang Farong for life, he was already half-mad, half-insane.
Then, July 7, 1937 arrived. Japan’s full-scale war of aggression against China erupted.