Chapter 69: Nightfall
The small town seemed to have encountered a once-in-a-century celestial eclipse where a heavenly dog devoured the sun, plunging everything into pitch-black darkness, so thick that no one could see their own hand in front of their face.
Coupled with the statues outside the town bursting apart like firecrackers, the sounds growing more and more frequent, when the town fell silent due to the darkness, it became especially jarring. This only deepened the suspicions of the ordinary townsfolk, who connected it to the oxcarts and horse-drawn carriages carrying the sons of wealthy families that had passed through earlier. The common people in the streets and alleys were all terrified and uneasy.
Within the high gates and walls of the four surnames and ten clans, without exception, whenever any servant or maidservant tried to take the initiative to hang up lanterns, they would quickly be met with loud scolding. Some hot-tempered family stewards even slapped the lanterns to the ground on the spot, stomping them to pieces with twisted faces, glaring at those well-meaning household servants as if they were mortal enemies.
At the blacksmith’s shop, Chen Ping’an was having lunch with Ning Yao, sitting by the well. After it got dark, although Chen Ping’an found it strange, it didn’t stop him from lowering his head and shoveling rice into his mouth. The meals at the blacksmith’s shop were quite good; every long-term and short-term worker could get a piece of braised pork belly as wide and long as an index finger, plus a spoonful of gravy. Rice was unlimited, but there was only one piece of meat. Chen Ping’an usually had a capacity of about two large bowls of rice, so every time he got his piece of meat from the head cook, because of the sauce, he would only eat the rice during the first bowl without touching the meat. By the end, the piece of braised pork would gradually slide from the top of the bowl to the bottom. Then he would go get a second bowl of rice and only then cleanly and efficiently finish off the meat.
Every time Ning Yao saw Chen Ping’an eat like that, she felt a little amused.
Ruan Xiu, however, was not like Ning Yao. The girl in green looked at Chen Ping’an with eyes that seemed to write four big characters: "Soulmate in Eating."
At this moment, Chen Ping’an held an empty big white bowl in one hand and chopsticks in the other, straining his eyes to look around, but he could only vaguely see things within two or three zhang. Over the past two days, besides working like an ox and horse for Master Ruan’s blacksmith shop, Chen Ping’an had to spend three hours practicing "walking the stakes"—one hour during the day, from midday to the hour of the sheep, and two hours at night, from the hour of the boar to the hour of the ox. Later, Chen Ping’an tried to combine walking the stakes with forming the Sword Furnace stance with his ten fingers, but he found that this made his breathing uneven and his steps unsteady, so he decisively gave it up. Chen Ping’an only practiced the Sword Furnace to nourish his body during breaks, when no one was watching. In fact, for Chen Ping’an, he had simply replaced the old task of pulling clay for pottery with the stance and furnace techniques from the Mountain-Shaking Scripture.
During the daytime stake-walking hour, at first Ning Yao occasionally followed behind him, putting on airs and giving a few pointers before she stopped showing up. Chen Ping’an didn’t want to cause gossip, so for this one hour of daytime stake practice, he would walk downstream along the creek, a mile away from the blacksmith shop, before starting his practice, then go back and forth, covering about ten li in total.
For Chen Ping’an, this had become a new family rule that was as unshakable as iron.
Now, sitting by the well, Ning Yao looked at the sky, which seemed to be covered by a black cloth. Her long, narrow eyebrows—which spoiled her "beautiful" appearance—furrowed slightly.
Chen Ping’an asked softly, "Is this related to Master Qi?"
Ning Yao didn’t plan to tell him the truth, only giving a vague answer: "Since Master Qi is the master of this paradise, it should be related to him."
Chen Ping’an asked again, "According to what Song Jixin and Zhigui said earlier, Master Qi was originally planning to leave the town with the school’s pageboy Zhao Yao. Why did he end up staying?"
Ning Yao shook her head and laughed: "The thoughts of a sage are like a dragon vein that stretches for thousands of miles. I can’t guess them, and I’m too lazy to try."
After saying this, she tossed her bowl and chopsticks into Chen Ping’an’s hands, got up, and walked toward a yellow-mud-walled thatched cottage that was exclusively hers. Ning Yao herself found it strange why Master Ruan was so polite to her. Could it be that Master Ruan had seen through her identity? That was extremely unlikely, since Inverted-Hanging Mountain was not located in East Treasure Vase Continent, and moreover, Inverted-Hanging Mountain had almost no connections with the outside world. Its reputation was great, but visitors were few. Furthermore, even back at Inverted-Hanging Mountain, they weren’t completely certain of her identity. However, Ning Yao was the type to cross the bridge when she came to it, and if the bridge didn’t go straight, she could use her sword to carve a straight path. Since Master Ruan, the foremost sword-forging master of East Treasure Vase Continent, was being friendly, she accepted it graciously.
Chen Ping’an took the bowls and chopsticks and was about to head to the kitchen when he noticed someone walking by not far away. It was a young man with wide sleeves, looking even more like a scholar than the actual scholar Chen Songfeng. He gave off an indescribable feeling, a bit like Master Qi, and a bit like Inspector Song from the Mud Vase Alley that he had met before.
The man saw the straw-sandal boy sitting alone by the well, dazed, and meeting his gaze. He was slightly surprised. Walking over to the boy, he smiled warmly and said, "I have some business with Master Ruan. Do you know where he is?"
This time, Chen Ping’an did not conceal things like he had in Mud Vase Alley with Cai Jinjian and Fu Nanhua. Instead, he directly pointed the man in the right direction.
Firstly, Miss Ning had told him how formidable Master Ruan was. Secondly, this man did not give Chen Ping’an a feeling of being dark and scheming.
Chen Ping’an asked politely, "Do you need me to guide you?"
The young man was not in a hurry. Looking at Chen Ping’an, he smiled, "No need, it’s only a few steps away. I won’t trouble you. Thank you, though."
Chen Ping’an nodded with a smile and walked toward the kitchen, while the man headed toward a distant sword-forging room.
After returning the bowls and chopsticks, Chen Ping’an found that the short-term workers and apprentices had all gathered in a few houses, lit oil lamps, and were discussing the reason for the reversal of day and night. Some asserted confidently that a mountain god from some great mountain had trespassed, causing the creek and well water to drop, which angered the river god in charge of the streams, and a fight between gods had turned the sky and earth dark. Others countered with sayings from the older generation, saying that around here, all the great mountains had been sealed by the imperial court, so how could there be a mountain god? And that creek was so small—there was definitely no river god.
Chen Ping’an didn’t join in. Since he had nothing better to do, he relied on his extraordinary eyesight and went alone down to the last well, hauling baskets of dirt out of it again and again.
Once, after climbing out of the well on the wooden ladder, he happened to see that man returning from the sword-forging room. He also noticed the boy’s figure but did not approach or stop. He only waved goodbye from a distance.
Chen Ping’ain felt a little emotional. Regardless of whether this man was good or bad, at least he was different from those outsiders from Mount Zhengyang, Mount Yunxia, Breeze City, and Old Dragon City.
Chen Ping’an continued hauling dirt from the well, trip after trip. On the last trip out of the well, he saw Ruan Xiu standing near the well’s windlass, with a handkerchief spread out on her palm, piled high with small pastries. When Chen Ping’an appeared, Ruan Xiu extended her hand toward him. Covered in mud and with filthy hands, Chen Ping’an smiled and shook his head. Then Ruan Xiu sat down on the edge of the well, lowered her head, and began to eat the delicate pastries from the Sui Sui Shop in Riding Dragon Alley. The girl in green quickly immersed herself in the food, her whole face radiating happiness and bliss.
Chen Ping’an continued back and forth carrying the accumulated dirt. After a dozen or so trips, the girl with the ponytail had disappeared, but on the well rim, there remained the handkerchief and a single pastry—the most famous peach blossom wine fermented cake from the Sui Sui Shop. Chen Ping’an was stunned for a moment, then had no choice but to take off his basket, place it by his feet, sit on the well rim near the handkerchief, wipe his hands on his clothes, pick up the pastry with two fingers, and put it into his mouth.
Chen Ping’an nodded vigorously. It really was delicious.
After all, he was eating something worth a full ten coppers. The moment he thought of that, Chen Ping’an immediately found it even tastier.
For the next few hours, the sky remained dark. Occasionally, a series of muffled drumming sounds would come from the sky. Other than that, the town actually had no unusual occurrences. Master Ruan even made an exception and gave the short-term workers at his blacksmith shop two days off, letting them go home, telling them not to wait around for "daybreak" to continue working.
Chen Ping’an was included in this. He simply returned to the town and went to Liu Xianyang’s house. After confirming nothing was missing, he quickly blew out the lamp, locked the door, and ran toward his own house in Mud Vase Alley.
For some reason, Chen Ping’an felt that the town nowadays was lifeless, devoid of vitality.
Chen Ping’an did not know that as he ran across the covered bridge and the corridor,
Underneath the bridge, floating on the water’s surface, was a tall woman with flowing robes. Her dress was snow-white, her hair was snow-white, and her exposed hands and feet were like creamy white jade.
She tilted her head, using the stream as a mirror, holding her hair with one hand while combing it with the other. No one could make out her face clearly.