"How many people are buried under this Fire Prayer Sect?"
Amid the bustling traffic on the official road and the sound of cicadas chirping one after another, Lu Liangsheng repeated a sentence and stared at the word "behead" written on the tea on the table.
Across from him, Zuo Zhengyang pounded his fist on the table with his one arm, causing the tea to splash out and the chopstick cage to shake. He lowered his voice.
"These guys really deserve to be killed!"
"Um."
Lu Liangsheng lightly touched the words written on the water stain with his fingertips, and the word "behead" turned into a stream and condensed on the scholar's fingertips, which he covered with a flick of his sleeves.
"But Qianwei, you'd better not use your knife in this matter. You have just started practicing, and the Shura Road is not easy to walk."
Having said that, he stood up and walked outside the tea shed, untied the old donkey's reins, looked up at the sky, the warm sunlight shone on his face, and only the Taoist priest and Zuo Zhengyang could hear the voice speaking.
"Let me do it!"
Lu Liangsheng led the old donkey and walked among the pedestrians. When he showed his figure and appearance again, he looked like a middle-aged Confucian scholar, with a half-foot beard and worn-out clothes, like a sour scholar whose family had fallen on hard times.
His figure blurred among the hustle and bustle of pedestrians and vendors entering the city, and he went straight through the pass.
In the tea stall, the Taoist and Zuo Zhengyang looked at each other.
"What do we do?"
The latter grabbed the long knife, put it on his shoulder, and strode out of the tea shed: "Let's go to Ziling Mountain and wait for him."
…
Junyang City is located in the east of Linghe Prefecture, close to the sea and rich in seafood. It has jurisdiction over 16 townships and fertile fields on the west and south sides. Overall, it is much richer than other counties in the prefecture. It has wide and clean streets, high-eaved attic shops, and low-eaved alleys. Peddler carrying loads on his shoulders walk through the streets and shout out his wares.
The sun slanted down, casting its afterglow, just like the long streets of the past, with outlaws of various shapes and costumes walking back and forth with swords and knives on their shoulders.
"There is an important person in the meeting today. I heard that he doesn't like crowds. He will be back later today."
"I don't know who it is?" "Yes, but the eldest brother still wants to accompany us. I heard him say that it seems to be from Ziling Mountain..."
"Don't talk too much."
A group of seven or eight people dressed like warriors were talking to each other as they walked through the middle of the long street. The bandits, merchants and pedestrians passing by in the city quickly hid to the sides.
At this moment, a voice from among the people passing by suddenly shouted, "Wait, there's a scholar over there."
The people walking forward stopped and looked in the direction their companion pointed with his chin raised. They saw a middle-aged scholar, his blue robe washed so much that it looked white, with a scarf wrapped around his head. He was sitting on the street, leading a bald old donkey, and his beard was messy as if he had just taken a bath several days ago.
If it was just an old scholar, he would not have attracted so many people's attention. But the person sitting there, holding a sword, the scabbard was wrapped in black shark, and the hilt was inlaid with three red jades. Anyone who knew the value of the sword could tell at a glance that it was extraordinary.
The seven men looked at each other, and one of the tall men suddenly cried out "Ouch!", walked over quickly, shouted at the top of his voice, and tried to take the sword in the old man's hand.
"Isn't this what I just lost the day before yesterday? Why is it in your arms, old man? Return it to me now!"
The middle-aged scholar hurriedly moved closer to the donkey, glanced at the seven people approaching with some panic in his eyes, and turned sideways to hold the sword tightly in his arms.
"How could it be you? This is passed down from my ancestors. I just took it out today and want to sell it."
"What do you mean your ancestors? Aren't your ancestors here?"
The tall man saw that his previous words didn't work and felt a little embarrassed in front of his companions. He spat, rolled up his sleeves, snatched the sword from the old scholar's arms, pulled hard, but couldn't pull it out, so he quickly covered up his embarrassment.
"Go back and look again."
Then, he waved to his companions and said, "Let's go. When we go back and present it to the boss, he will definitely be happy."
"Come back and give me back my sword!"
The old scholar who was pulled to the ground cried a few times, got up awkwardly, and chased for two steps, but was stopped by several vendors nearby.
"Hey, sir, don't chase them. These guys are not to be messed with."
"But... But this is my sword. It was passed down from my ancestors. If my family hadn't fallen on hard times, I wouldn't have sold it at such a low price. How come I encountered something like this the moment I went out on the street!"
The scholar beat his chest hard. The man beside him sighed, patted his arm, said a few words of comfort, took two fried dough sticks from the stall, wrapped them up, and handed them to him.
"Forget it. It's better than losing your life. Take these things and go back quickly. Don't provoke this group of people. Even if the government intervenes, they will release them in a few days, and we will be the ones who suffer then."
The surrounding vendors and nearby residents nodded one by one and echoed in unison.
"Yes, these people are good at fighting, and they can also use knives and sticks. You can't afford to offend them."
"Last time, there was a vegetable farmer who just wanted to have his vegetables taken away, so he chased after them. It's been a few months now, and I haven't seen him setting up his stall here again. I heard that his hands and feet were broken, and he was thrown into the mountains to feed the wolves."
"That's right. I've heard about it, too. His neighbor went to report it to the police, but was beaten on the way. He had to stay in bed for half a month. It was hard for the government to investigate, as they couldn't find the man or the murderer. Until now, the vegetable farmer's wife has gone crazy. She sits at the door every day, waiting for her husband to come back. Alas..."
"Well, so, sir, if the sword is lost, it's lost... Hey, where is the person?"
The group of common people and vendors who were talking around finally realized that the middle-aged scholar whose ancestral sword had been stolen and the old donkey were gone.
Someone looked around and said, "Maybe he's gone."
At the corner of the long street, the middle-aged scholar who brushed past the shoulders of passers-by was wearing a white robe with green and apricot patterns when he turned the corner. He was leading an old donkey behind him, shaking the bell under its neck, and walked through the crowds on the street to the outside of the city.
Following the direction of the vegetable farmer's house mentioned by the group of people before, I walked through a barren field. As the sun was setting, there was a thatched house not far from the field. A woman with gray hair and tattered clothes was sitting on the doorstep with her legs curled up, her head resting on the door frame, looking outside.
When he heard the tinkling sound of bronze bells, he moved, tilted his head slightly, and looked at the approaching scholar and donkey.
“…Have you seen my Shunyi?”
Lu Liangsheng shook his head, took out the easel from the bookshelf, set it aside, and sat down next to the old woman, not caring about the stench on her.
"No."
"Oh." The old woman stood up slowly, holding onto the door sill. "He should be back soon. He usually comes back around this time... He's coming back soon... I'm going to go in and cook for him..."
Lu Liangsheng smiled and let her in. While grinding the ink, he asked, "What does Shunyi look like? Is he good-looking?"
The old woman's eyes lit up when she entered the room, and finally there was some expression on her face.
"What's so good about that... I'm old now. When I was young... I had thick eyebrows and big eyes... I was pretty good-looking... But my skin was too dark..."
Speaking of men, although the old woman was a little crazy, there was joy on her face. No one knew what she was doing. The fire in the stove was not lit. She sat on a low stool and chattered about a vegetable farmer named "Shunyi".
Outside the house, Lu Liangsheng was sitting at the door, his pen and ink moving quickly on the white paper, and the outline of "Shunyi" described by the old woman gradually emerged.
As the setting sun cast its last vestiges of red, Lu Liangsheng stood up and wrote the word Shunyi in the lower corner of the scroll.
He picked up the paper and blew away the ink that had not yet dried on it, then turned and walked into the thatched cottage, hung it on the wall, put away the brush, went back outside, and then took the old donkey and left.
In the red setting sun, an old farmer carrying a hoe came out of the field, passed by the scholar, and went into the house.
Soon, the old woman's wailing was heard.
"Just leave it as a reminder for her."
The wind blew across the fields, his clothes fluttered in the wind, Lu Liangsheng tilted his head to look at the city... You are gone.
…
The night swallowed up the remaining red like a tide, covering the sky and the earth. Big red lanterns were raised in the majestic mansion. The seven people who rushed back greeted the gatekeeper, and ran quickly to the front yard hall with swords in their hands.
"The boss will definitely reward us when he sees this sword!"
While speaking, he walked to the hall in front. The lights were on, illuminating two figures who were drinking water and talking intermittently.