After cursing Shudu off and watching him disappear into the vast horizon, Xue Tuzi turned to Xue Laohu, holding up a half-eaten skewer of tanghulu in his hand. He hesitated, shifting his weight nervously, his cheeks warming with a soft flush.
"Would… would Shizun like to share?" he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, his eyes darting down, unable to meet Xue Laohu's gaze.
Xue Laohu's expression softened as he took in Xue Tuzi's shy offer, a smile broke across his face, warm and unrestrained. "Sure," he replied, reaching over to pluck the last glistening, syrupy fruit from the skewer. Just as he leaned closer, ready to take a juicy bite, Li Zhameng stumbled over, breathless and wide-eyed, clutching his chest as he gasped for air.
"Shizun! The ocean is—" Li Zhameng's words caught in his throat, his eyes fixating on the skewer in Xue Laohu's hand. He stared, transfixed, his mouth almost watering as he watched the tanghulu that hovered so close to Xue Laohu's lips.
Xue Laohu paused, a faint smirk curling at the edge of his mouth. With a sigh and a small, amused shrug, he extended the tanghulu toward his eager disciple instead. "Here," he offered, an indulgent glint in his eye.
Without a moment's hesitation, Li Zhameng snatched the skewer and bit into the final candied fruit with unrestrained delight, savoring its sweetness. Xue Tuzi's face fell as he watched, his lips pressing together in a frown, his fingers curling slightly around the now-empty stick in his hand. His gaze lingered on Li Zhameng, a twinge of resentment flickering in his eyes.
They arrived at the village, a small yet bustling coastal settlement known for its merchant activity. Tucked along the rugged shoreline, the village had an undeniable charm with its sandy streets, quaint shacks, and the salty scent of the ocean drifting through the air. Merchant stalls lined the roads, bursting with colorful wares—handwoven fabrics, fragrant spices, freshly caught fish, and trinkets that sparkled under the dimming light. Yet, despite the lively scene, an ominous presence seemed to hang over the place, like a dark shroud woven into the fabric of the village itself.
People moved busily between the stalls, bartering and haggling, but there was a strange stillness beneath the hum of activity. No laughter from children playing in the streets, no voices of young women joining the market chatter. It was as if an entire generation was missing. The villagers kept their eyes low, casting nervous glances at one another, as if afraid to speak of something that lingered unspoken yet deeply felt.
"Shizun, I'd like to buy some new silver needles for my threads. May I?" Xue Tuzi asked with a respectful bow, his tone polite and measured.
Xue Laohu smiled. "Of course you may." He tilted his head and glanced at Xue Tuzi's robes, spotting a familiar sight nestled within the folds. "You've grown quite fond of this little Gu worm," he added, reaching out to gently poke Jiao Jiao. The tiny Gu worm wriggled under Xue Laohu's touch, its soft movements suggesting it was ticklish.
Xue Tuzi sighed, his expression conflicted. "I have no choice. Besides, he's useful… unlike that insect." His tone held a subtle edge, and his brow furrowed slightly.
Xue Laohu chuckled, waving him off. "Alright. Just don't get lost."
"I won't," Xue Tuzi replied, giving a short nod before heading off, with Jiao Jiao nestled snugly in his robes.
As Xue Tuzi disappeared into the crowd, Xue Laohu turned to Li Zhameng, his face shifting from relaxed to serious. "Alright, Meng Meng. You and I need to find the chief of the village to discuss some business. Let's go." His tone was firm, his stride already purposeful as he began moving forward.
Behind him, Li Zhameng was flushed, his thoughts spiraling into his own private world. Shizun and I… spending time alone again? How romanci. In his mind, he painted a series of perfect scenes: his Shizun would pull him close, one arm encircling his waist, the other hand tilting his chin up gently.
"Meng Meng," he could almost hear Xue Laohu whispering in that warm, low voice, "You still have a bit of candy on your lips." In his imagination, his Shizun's thumb would brush softly against his lips, wiping away the sweetness before leaning in, their lips meeting in a kiss full of tender heat.
Lost in his daydreams, Li Zhameng's face flushed a deep cherry red, his heart racing as he imagined every detail. But just then, reality came crashing back as a heavy fist thumped down on his head.
"Ow!" Li Zhameng yelped, rubbing the sore spot as he looked up to see Xue Laohu frowning down at him.
"Quit daydreaming and let's go," Xue Laohu barked, his patience thin. He grabbed Li Zhameng's hand and began dragging him along, leaving the younger disciple stumbling to keep up, cheeks still rosy and heart still pounding as he tried to shake off the remnants of his delusion.
Li Zhameng's steps hurried clumsily to keep up with Xue Laohu's long strides, but his gaze stayed glued to their intertwined hands. Though he hadn't received the kiss he had imagined, the warmth of his Shizun's steady grip was more than enough to send a thrill through him. His cheeks stayed flushed, and a small smile played on his lips as he tightened his hold ever so slightly, savoring the rare touch.
Meanwhile, in another part of the village, Xue Tuzi carefully placed his newly purchased silver needles into his pouch, his satisfaction lingering in the form of a soft smile. But as he glanced up at the bustling street, his smile faded, replaced by a pang of realization—he'd forgotten to ask his Shizun where they would meet. Now, with no direction, he wandered through the crowded marketplace, his eyes darting over the unfamiliar stalls, seeking any hint of his Shizun's whereabouts.
Eventually, Xue Tuzi drifted into a quieter alleyway at the edge of the village, where the noise of the market faded. A lone stand sat beneath a ragged awning, and behind it was a woman hunched over, almost swallowed by the layers of tattered cloth that draped her thin frame. Her long, solemn frown etched lines into her powdered face, each crack in the thick white makeup making her seem both ancient and unsettling. Dark, jet-black brows were painted on harshly above her shadowed eyes, while her faded red lips, dry and crusted, added a ghostly edge to her expression.
Xue Tuzi's heart gave a startled thump as he recognized her. "It's the fortune teller from before," he murmured, breath catching as he made his way to her stand. Stopping in front of her, he offered a hesitant pout, a flicker of nerves in his eyes. "I'm looking for two men," he managed, his voice quiet but resolute.
The fortune teller said nothing, her frown deepening as she extended her hand in expectation. Xue Tuzi fumbled for his pouch, pulling out his last silver tael. "This is all I have," he said, placing it in her outstretched hand. "Can you tell me where to look?"
She snatched the coin with a bony, swift hand, pausing to cough, her voice raspy and hollow. "You will find yourself within a painting," she croaked, her words a murmur of mystery.
Just then, a gust of wind whipped through the alley, sending a cloud of sand swirling around him. He raised an arm to shield his eyes. When the dust settled and he lowered his arm, he found the stand empty—the fortune teller had vanished without a trace, leaving Xue Tuzi alone in the silent, eerie alleyway.
Xue Laohu and Li Zhameng had found the village's counselor, an elder by the name of Hai Yu. He was a frail, elderly man with a solemn expression, his face deeply etched with lines that told stories of hardship and loss. Heavy bags under his eyes and a furrowed brow hinted at sleepless nights and countless worries. His thin, gray hair was pulled back, exposing a high forehead that seemed to shine under the light, adding to his worn yet dignified appearance. He wore simple, dark robes, traditional yet unadorned, fitting for a man who carried his people's burdens.
"Thank you so much for coming. Please, have some tea. It is not much, but it is all I can offer at the moment," Hai Yu said, his voice rough with age yet holding a quiet strength. He motioned for Xue Laohu and Li Zhameng to sit. As they settled onto the modest cushions before him, a maid entered with careful, practiced movements, pouring steaming tea into small cups that emitted a faint, earthy aroma.
Xue Laohu took a sip, glancing at Hai Yu. "The disappearances…how long have they been going on?"
Hai Yu stood by the window, his gaze drifting beyond the walls of the modest room to the bustling streets of Toubiao. The noise from outside seemed almost distant, as though the weight of his concerns muffled everything around him. "It started about the same time these foreign ships began showing up," he said, his voice trailing off as he stared into the distance. "About six months ago."
"Foreign ships?" Xue Laohu asked, setting his cup down, his expression turning sharp with concern.
"Yes, by orders of the emperor, no foreign ship shall dock here, yet they linger around the coastline. I'm afraid…" Hai Yu's hand clenched tightly, his knuckles whitening. His eyes dropped to the floor, and for a moment, he seemed to shrink, his shoulders sagging. "As you can see… I'm an old man. My only son, Wan Tong, is of no help to me. He wastes his days with a lecherous woman by the harbor, a supposed book-seller."
His voice grew bitter as he spoke of his son, his gaze becoming a mixture of grief and frustration. The proud elder seemed to wrestle with his helplessness, his hands shaking slightly as he forced himself to release his fist.
Seeing this, Xue Laohu reached out, placing a reassuring hand on the old man's shoulder. "Don't worry," he said gently, his tone both firm and comforting. "We will figure this out. You have our word."
Hai Yu looked up, a flicker of hope crossing his weary eyes as he took in the sincerity in Xue Laohu's face. "Please, Grandmaster Xue," he murmured, his voice tinged with desperation. "Time is of the essence. My people need help—before more are lost."
The room fell silent, the elder's plea hanging heavy in the air. Xue Laohu and Li Zhameng departed, their footsteps slow as they took in the sights of the village. Neither had seen any foreign ships along the shore, though they were supposed to be lurking nearby. In fact, Li Zhameng had never even seen a ship before, and Xue Laohu—or rather, Yi Ming—wasn't sure he could identify one type from another. His mind raced with questions. European ships? Damn, what dynasty are we even in? I forgot to ask…
"Shizun…" Li Zhameng's voice broke through his thoughts, soft yet tinged with concern.
"Huh?" Xue Laohu snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see Li Zhameng's worried expression.
"We didn't arrange a meet-up spot with A-Tuzi," Li Zhameng said, his gaze dropping slightly as if bracing himself for what he knew was coming.
"Ah, shit! That's right! Fuck, why didn't you remind me?" Xue Laohu's voice rose in irritation as he glanced around, scanning every corner as if Xue Tuzi might materialize from the crowd.
Li Zhameng shifted uncomfortably. "I… I didn't want to upset Shizun," he mumbled, guilt softening his tone.
Xue Laohu huffed, but his frustration quickly passed as he grabbed Li Zhameng by the arm. "Fine, come on, let's go look for him." He tugged Li Zhameng along into the bustling streets, weaving through merchants and villagers as they searched.
As they walked, Li Zhameng's heart began to pound, and his thoughts drifted into a swirl of vivid, forbidden scenarios. He pictured himself and his Shizun lost in the maze-like alleys, finally reaching a dead-end, with no one around. His Shizun would turn to him, his gaze fierce and unyielding, before pressing him back against the wall, his strong hands pinning him in place. He could almost feel his breath ghosting over his ear, his voice a low, commanding whisper…
"MENG MENG!" Xue Laohu's voice jolted him back to reality. He blinked, looking down and realizing he had, at some point, let go of his Shizun's hand. He scrambled through the crowd, catching up to Xue Laohu, whose eyes were narrowed with frustration.
"I don't know where A-Tuzi is, and now you want to get lost too?" Xue Laohu scolded, his grip firm as he seized Li Zhameng's hand again. "Here, don't let go this time."
Li Zhameng's cheeks flushed, as he tightened his hold, feeling the warmth of his Shizun's palm pressed against his. His heart raced as he nodded, a mixture of guilt and something else stirring deep within him as they continued through the crowd, hand in hand.