Chapter Eighteen
Part 1
Gouzi was utterly stunned. “What? We’re leaving Xiaoyan Town tomorrow? Where can we go from here?” For as long as Gouzi could remember, he’d roamed the streets and alleys of Xiaoyan Town. Now that Ah Heng was saying they had to leave, Gouzi felt completely bewildered.
Wen Heng replied calmly, “I just feel it’s not safe for us to stay in Xiaoyan Town any longer. I heard there’s a town called Qingcheng next door. It’s bigger than Xiaoyan. We could go check it out.”
Gouzi frowned. “Ah Heng, Old Wen just passed away, and now you want to leave?”
Wasn’t that a bit heartless? They beggars had no fixed homes; when someone died, they’d just roll up a mat and toss the body by the roadside. But Xiaoyan Town meant something different to Gouzi. His childhood was here, and both Old Wen and his grandfather were buried here. He didn’t want to leave.
Wen Heng smiled gently, then ruffled Gouzi’s soft hair. “Old Wen is gone. We have to keep living—and live better. We’ll find more food in bigger places. Winter’s coming soon, and Xiaoyan Town’s been hit hard. This winter will be brutal.”
Gouzi thought about it. It made sense. Every winter, countless beggars froze to death. Besides, Old Wen had warned that this winter would be especially bitter. Ah Heng wasn’t much good at begging either. Whether the two of them could survive was truly uncertain. At least Old Wen had someone to collect his body. If he and Ah Heng starved to death, there wouldn’t even be anyone to bury them.
After much deliberation, Gouzi reluctantly agreed: “Fine then. I’ll talk to Sanhu and the others tomorrow.”
Wen Heng was puzzled: “Sanhu still beats you up. What are you going to tell them about leaving?”
Gouzi rolled his eyes: “We worked our asses off building that shitty temple. Just walking away like that? What a waste. Before we go, I’ll tell Sanhu and the others that if any little beggars come by, they can stay here. We all begged in Xiaoyan Town—back then it was for food, for survival. Now we’re leaving, but if we ever meet again, at least we’ll be fellow townsfolk.”
Who would’ve thought the gaunt, sallow Gouzi could be so smooth in dealing with people? Wen Heng felt he couldn’t hold a candle to him.
Gouzi rubbed Baozi’s limbs. The leopard snarled and growled, but Gouzi wasn’t the least bit afraid. He pulled a partridge’s neck toward the leopard’s mouth: “Here, you should eat a little.”
Wen Heng said calmly, “Don’t bother with it. It’ll find its own food.”
Baozi: …
Is this how you treat your disciple?! So unkind! The stubborn leopard turned its head away, refusing to acknowledge the two beggars. Strangely enough, staying near Wen Heng made the leopard feel its own aura obscured. Wen Heng must possess some treasure capable of masking its spiritual and demonic energy.
Gouzi hadn’t rested properly these past two days; Old Wen’s departure had left him heartbroken. After eating the pheasant, Gouzi went to sleep clutching the leopard. Of course, the leopard resisted, but it was utterly useless. He had to compress his demonic power to the absolute limit to shrink into such a small form. He could sense Lian Wushang lurking nearby.
The leopard propped his severed limb against his nose, his ears alert to the slightest rustle in the grass. The candle’s light flickered and flickered before finally extinguishing, turning into a wisp of blue smoke.
Wen Heng sat by the doorway, watching the sleeping Doggie. He tried closing his eyes, wishing he could sleep and eat like a normal person. In the darkness, Wen Heng caught a faint, delicate scent of lotus. He saw a blue lotus blossom quietly in the darkness. It was strangely beautiful…
When he opened his eyes again, soft sunlight was already bathing his body. He had actually dreamed of a lotus flower! And fallen asleep while watching it bloom! After his initial astonishment, Wen Heng felt this must be some kind of revelation from the heavens.
After Doggie woke up, he began tidying up the dilapidated temple. Honestly, there wasn’t much to tidy—they’d already cleaned everything up during the temple’s reconstruction.
Inside lay a broken cart with both wheels snapped off. Wen Heng hauled it out. Even as beggars, they still had belongings to carry. Stowing all those broken bowls and pots on their backs was exhausting. A broken cart would at least lighten the load.
Weng Heng examined the broken wheels. He recalled seeing tools at the old coffin-maker’s place in North Alley. Perhaps they could help fix this broken cart. He hoisted the cart onto his shoulders: “Gouzi, I’m off to get this cart repaired.”
Er Gou had packed several bundles of odds and ends. Without looking up, he replied: Go ahead. I’ll talk to Sanhu and the others later. Where are you taking it to get fixed?”
Wen Heng was already walking away when he heard him say “North Alley.” Doggie watched Wen Heng lugging that huge, broken cart and shrugged. “When did you get so friendly with that weird old guy in North Alley?”
The old man from North Alley had barely opened the door when he saw Wen Heng smiling broadly as he bowed his hands in greeting. “Old friend, I’m troubling you again.”
The old man paused. “Everyone avoids me like the plague. Why do you keep coming back? Don’t you fear bad luck?”
People in their line of work weren’t naturally skilled at socializing. North Alley bordered the graveyard, and few ever ventured there. Only a handful of households remained scattered throughout the alley, all shops selling coffins or joss paper.
The old man frowned. “What do you need now?” He deftly removed half the door panel—his way of welcoming guests. His gaze fell on the dilapidated cart. “That junk’s beyond repair. What do you need it for?”
Wen Heng smiled. “I noticed you had tools at home earlier. I thought I might borrow them to fix this old cart.” The old man fell silent. “You’re a beggar. Why fix a broken cart? You should be moving on.”
Wen Heng suspected this coffin shop owner might not be an ordinary man—twice now, he’d guessed his intentions. But that was fine; Wen Heng had nothing to hide. The old man casually packed tobacco into his pipe. “This cart’s beyond repair. I’ll make you a new one.”
Just as Wen Heng was about to express his gratitude, the old man waved his rough hand dismissively. “Don’t thank me yet. I have a condition.”
Wen Heng replied politely, “Please tell me, old man.”
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