Chapter Three: The Strange Man with the Fish Basket on His Back

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PS: Three chapters today, please add to your favorites!

When Mo Bai awoke, the evening lights were already aglow. He descended the stairs at a leisurely pace and beckoned the innkeeper’s assistant over. “Has anything unusual happened?” he asked.

The assistant’s legs trembled. Had the boss not warned him, when this grim guest visited a second time, not to offend him and to serve him well, he would have fled long ago. Stammering, he replied, “Miss Murong from the town’s largest medicinal family has been assaulted again…” His terrified gaze lingered on Mo Bai, as though saying, “Sir, surely you haven’t forgotten what you yourself have done?”

Mo Bai smiled faintly. “All right, you may go.”

The assistant, as if relieved of a heavy burden, bolted from the room.

In the inn’s main hall, everyone eyed Mo Bai as if facing Yama, the King of Hell. Yet, though angry, none dared speak. Mo Bai scanned the hall, but Blood Vengeance was nowhere to be seen. Evidently, he was heeding Uncle Master Shun Qing’s words: three days’ grace meant exactly that.

Mo Bai left the Cloud Inn, strolling through the streets. Soon, he heard two men conversing—it was Dragon Ma and Ground Rat. Dragon Ma sighed, “What a pity for Miss Murong. Her fate is too cruel. Two years ago, she lost her husband, and today that lecher ruined her. I don’t understand why Uncle Master Shun Qing gave that man three days. Is the reputation of the Yuntian Sect worth more than justice? A living person…”

Ground Rat quickly hushed him, his voice sharp. “Brother Long, don’t speak so rashly. The Yuntian Sect is not for us outer disciples to discuss.”

Dragon Ma, slightly drunk, sighed, “Really, if Brother Blood Vengeance just took that scoundrel to the Xiao residence and let Miss Xiao see him, wouldn’t it become clear whether he’s the culprit?”

Mo Bai paused, his thoughts racing. From Dragon Ma’s words, someone had seen the lecher’s face. Why hadn’t Blood Vengeance brought him for identification?

Ground Rat lamented, “But Miss Xiao has always been strong-willed. Before marriage, she was assaulted; since then, her temperament changed—sometimes frantic, sometimes lucid. Even if Blood Vengeance wanted to bring the culprit, Master Xiao likely wouldn’t subject his daughter to such pain.”

Dragon Ma nodded silently. “Let’s drink, brother. Some things are beyond our control.”

They chatted a bit more about spiritual cultivation, then parted ways.

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Mo Bai turned and left, a plan forming in his mind. After several leaps, he found the Xiao residence—easy enough, as their family ran a cloth business.

Though it was late, Mo Bai entered Miss Xiao’s chambers openly. There he saw her—her face gaunt, her beauty diminished, even somewhat unattractive. Mo Bai hesitated, then stepped forward. If she were lucid, she could clear his name. But suddenly, Miss Xiao let out a terrified scream. “Lecher! No! Help! Help!” Outside, a commotion arose as people rushed over. Mo Bai could only smile helplessly and slip quietly from her room.

Night had fallen, moonless and silent; the streets of Cloud Town were deserted. Even Zhou the dumpling-seller, who stayed out latest, was subdued by the oppressive darkness. Shaking his head, he packed up his stall and sighed, “When will these days finally end?” Clearly, recent troubles had hurt his business, and tonight he’d barely earned enough for a drink.

As Mo Bai wandered Cloud Street, he suddenly heard laughter. Looking up, he saw a middle-aged man with a conical hat and a fish basket slung over his back. The man laughed, “Little drunkard, what bad luck! You wanted fish, didn’t get any, and ended up a big turtle instead.”

Mo Bai replied with a calm smile, “Wasn’t it your fault?”

The man’s eyes narrowed, clearly not agreeing. “If you weren’t such a glutton, you wouldn’t have come to Cloud Town, nor gotten into all this trouble.”

Mo Bai said, resigned, “Uncle Six, don’t tease me. How was I to know the martial world was so treacherous?”

Uncle Six gave him a peculiar look. “Did I hear you right? You claim not to know the dangers of the martial world? If you didn’t, would I be wearing these rags, diving for fish for you, and cooking them for you, too?”

Mo Bai grinned slyly. “But if it’s not fish caught and cooked by you, it’s not true Four Lakes Fresh Fish.”

Uncle Six grumbled, “Don’t flatter me, little drunkard. I won’t fall for your tricks again. Once you settle this mess, I’ll cook fish for you—just to be rid of you sooner.”

Mo Bai laughed heartily. “How many fish did you catch, Uncle Six?”

Uncle Six’s eyes flashed. “Three fine fresh fish—surely enough for you?”

Mo Bai spread his hands. “I fear there will be other guests.”

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Uncle Six grew indignant. “You think I care about anyone else? I won’t serve anyone but you!”

Mo Bai chuckled. “Don’t be angry, Uncle Six. It’s someone close to you.”

Uncle Six looked puzzled. “Someone close to me? I, Uncle Six, have traveled all over the Linglong Continent, alone and unattached. Who could it be?”

Mo Bai said, “Doesn’t Wu Luohua count? They say you once gave up spiritual cultivation for a beauty of the Linglong Continent, but she spurned you, and you vowed never to marry. Since then, you’ve doted on your nephew.”

A trace of sorrow flickered in Uncle Six’s eyes. “Little drunkard, you really don’t know how to talk. Poking at my sore spots—fine, for your sake, I’ll serve that brat once.”

Mo Bai smiled openly. “You do care about Luohua.”

Uncle Six forced a wry smile. “You always get the better of me in conversation.”

Mo Bai grinned. “By the way, Uncle Six, you said I’ve gotten myself into a mess—aren’t you afraid of getting caught up in it too? Don’t think you can run if things go wrong and break your precious fish basket, haha!”

Uncle Six puffed up with pride. “I don’t know who set up the Yuntian Sect’s Cloud Heaven Locking Formation here, but their technique is mediocre at best. I haven’t practiced spiritual cultivation in years, but I can still come and go as I please. Still, the array feels a bit off—there’s something evil about it. In any case, this fish basket is my lifeblood. I’ll never let the fish escape. You don’t know how cold the Four Lakes are this time of year.”

Mo Bai grinned. “I may not know how cold the Four Lakes are, but I do know what the waters of Rainchill Pond are like.”

At the mention of Rainchill Pond, Uncle Six’s face turned deathly pale, his body shivering uncontrollably. Gasping, he said, “No one can compare with a little maniac like you. Enough talk; I need to go stew the fish!” With that, he hurried away in flight. Who would have thought that the prodigy of the top spiritual cultivation family, Wu Yixin—Uncle Six himself—would be rendered so flustered by Mo Bai?