“In utmost sincerity, I proclaim to rivers, lakes, and seas…”
As Liu Yumei’s voice echoed in the room, Li Zhuiyuan stood inside, yet his mind slipped into a strange daze.
Before his eyes, the golden dragon lantern seemed to come alive.
The dragon’s body detached from the lantern, twisting and spiraling as the wick flickered like fire, breathing wisps of turbulence.
It soared above the ground, hovering near him, weaving around in circles.
It was as if something was burning, yet there was no smell of char, just wisps of smoke and delicate sounds that danced by his ears.
If one were to draw a comparison, it could only be described as gauze.
A thin layer, draped beneath his feet, covering the road, veiling his fate.
This gauze was sheer, allowing light to filter through.
Just like over a year ago, when Li Zhuiyuan first discovered “The Chronicles of Jianghu” in his grandfather's basement.
In this book, Wei Zhengdao summarized all he had seen and heard about the underworld, creating an encyclopedia of the dead.
This collection of books was Li Zhuiyuan’s enlightenment.
From that moment, he had charted his future path—return to high school, select a university, compete in math contests, and secure early admission.
His relationship with Luo Gong was also aimed at ensuring his participation in major water conservancy projects in the future.
Thus, the road beneath him was merely concealed by a thin veil.
However, even a little obscurity could shroud terrifying undercurrents.
He had indeed begun his journey along the river, but it was neither clear nor decisive, and it certainly lacked sharpness.
The ceremony of opening the river and Liu Yumei’s proclamation had effectively helped him lift this last thin mist.
This was a river destined to be difficult to navigate, riddled with dangers and capable of capsizing at any moment.
Yet, it was right here.
Compared to open subjective questions, the youth preferred objective problems with constraints, no matter how convoluted they might be.
Now, the question lay before him; he simply needed to take up the pen and tackle it.
With a decrease in the fog of confusion surrounding him, he felt a wave of relief wash over his entire being.
Even the golden dragon swirling around him appeared somewhat adorable—bump-headed, like a little black pet he raised.
In reality, the lamp was still that same lamp, the golden dragon still hung above it, and the wick’s flame danced in its mouth.
Most of the people in the room couldn’t see the peculiar vision viewed by Li Zhuiyuan at that moment.
In the eyes of Runsheng and the others, Li Zhuiyuan's demeanor seemed to have relaxed.
They had paid homage to the Dragon King and understood the meaning of the second lamp, but for them to claim a deep understanding and appreciation of it was impossible.
Moments ago, they felt the tension and unease from Liu Yumei and the others, but now that they saw their little brother’s current state, relief washed over them.
No matter how serious the matter, with a change in perspective and attitude, it transformed into: “Ah, what’s the big deal?”
All the other mixed emotions in Qin Shu’s eyes faded, leaving only a sense of nostalgia.
He recalled when he lit the second lamp, the matriarch had still been young.
Facing the rows of memorial tablets on the offering table, and bearing the responsibility to revive the Qin and Liu families, he had gritted his teeth, solemn and anxious.
Yet this same scene, coupled with unexpected opportunities, unfolded before the young boy, revealing a sense of nonchalance.
This was not a disguise, for in such an atmosphere, those who could disguise themselves… saw no need to.
When one sees someone superior, one suddenly realizes that their failures feel inevitable.
Aunt Liu’s impression was more straightforward; she felt that a layer of charm had somehow cloaked the young lad, making the already handsome boy look even better.
Thus, in terms of temperament, the youth and maiden drew closer, and when they were together, they appeared more harmonious.
Aunt Liu desperately needed this fleeting sweetness to counter the impending bitterness that Yinmeng would cook for her.
Liu Yumei gazed at Li Zhuiyuan while gently waving her hand.
The youth did not stir, still lost in his emotions.
Qin Shu walked outside.
Aunt Liu wanted to take Ah Li’s hand to lead her away, but Ah Li stayed put, still watching the young man.
She did not like drawing; she only liked sketching Li Zhuiyuan, believing he looked wonderful just then, especially with the little golden dragon darting around him as a backdrop.
Aunt Liu looked at Liu Yumei, who nodded slightly.
The entrance and river ceremony were complete; now it was time for the elders’ advice.
Ah Li, representing the Qin family today, could stay, even if she wouldn’t speak.
But Liu Yumei knew that for that mischievous boy, a glance from his granddaughter outweighed a thousand words.
Runsheng and the others saw this and followed suit, leaving.
In the room, only Liu Yumei, Ah Li, and Li Zhuiyuan remained.
Finally, the golden dragon left his vicinity and settled back onto the lantern.
In reality, the flame went out.
For the ordinary person, the way this lamp was lit and extinguished seemed strange.
But to Li Zhuiyuan, the warmth it kindled still enveloped him.
He instinctively turned his head to look outside; the thunder had paused, yet the wind and rain persisted.
At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to fling open the window and let in the wind and rain, savoring a moment of coolness.
“Creak…”
A hand pushed the window open, and the wind and rain rushed in.
The cool breeze brushed his face, rejuvenating him completely.
Only then did he realize that everyone else had left.
Li Zhuiyuan turned to Liu Yumei, who was standing by the window, and with a hint of apology, he said, “I was lost in thought.”
Liu Yumei admired the view of dark clouds gathering over the city and smiled, saying, “It’s good to think carefully about how to navigate before diving into the river. It’s much better than being like a foolish youngling who jumps in recklessly.”
Li Zhuiyuan caught her veiled warning, but thankfully, Qin Shu was not present.
“Grandma, I have a question that Aunt Liu told me earlier, and I want to confirm it with you now.”
“Go ahead.”
“After I enter the river, what about the impact on my family?”
“If you change your surname and move, it’s as if you have severed ties with your family from the north; placing your household registration under Li Sanjiang’s name means you’ve also cut ties with the family from the south. In other words, in the narrow sense, your only family now is Li Sanjiang.”
“That old man is blessed; as long as he remains in the old house, he will thrive. Even if you want to visit, you can do so anytime, treating him as you always have. Just avoid making a fuss about changing fortunes or extending life and you won’t have issues.
That old fellow has really good fortune; sharing a household registration with you and deciding to leave all his inheritance to you so long ago binds you two deeply. When you commute along the river in the future, the merits accumulated from overcoming those evils will also flow towards him. He’ll be healthy for over a hundred years without issue.”
“What about those in a broader sense?” Li Zhuiyuan persisted.
“The broader family doesn’t refer to your relatives from the north and south, but to us—the Qin and Liu families. Because you have joined us, this deepens the severance from both your northern and southern ties.”
“So, if I navigate the river successfully…”
Liu Yumei interrupted without hesitation: “The Qin and Liu families will naturally benefit.”
“Will Ah Li’s illness get better?”
Liu Yumei replied, “Ah Li’s condition has not always been worsening, has it? The sickness still lingers, but Ah Li is learning to cope and adapt.”
“It will get better.” Liu Yumei looked at Ah Li and continued, “They’re just past subordinates, dirty remnants, seeing an opportunity to bully us single mother and daughter.”
“What should I do?”
“There’s no need to do anything deliberate; you only need to do your part in navigating the river. The stronger you become, the more the Qin and Liu families will revive, and those who bully the weak will scare themselves away.”
Li Zhuiyuan nodded, then fell silent.
It was fortunate that the sound of wind and rain mixed together, making the atmosphere less oppressive.
Liu Yumei asked, “Why not keep talking?”
Li Zhuiyuan replied, “Because I’ve asked all I wanted to ask.”
Liu Yumei pointed to the spirit tablets on the offering table: “Even a rotten ship has three thousand nails; are you looking down on it?”
“Grandma, that’s not what I meant.”
“Are you worried about involving us?” Liu Yumei lightly beckoned, closing the window, and the room fell silent, “In a typical family, when young people venture out, the elders always prepare some travel money. Now that our Qin and Liu families finally have someone traversing the river, as family, we ought to support him.”
“Grandma…”
“I may be old, but I’ve lived comfortably my entire life and have no reason to be stingy; your Uncle Qin and Aunt Liu, though not accomplished elders, can still hold their own. The new house may be smaller, but it can still provide shelter from the wind and rain.
If you encounter something larger than you can handle, just come back and ask for help. Once this door is shut, there’s not much in this world that dare come knocking. If you really have to leave, searching for whose family could bear it would also be tricky.
Even as the tiger may die, its aura remains; our two families are no longer what they used to be. Because of that, we are even more willing to give.”
Ah Li nodded.
Li Zhuiyuan had seen Liu Yumei’s caution in the old home, so he understood the weight behind her words.
Unless he once again lit the lamp and proclaimed the end of his journey, if he encountered any trouble outside and rushed home, those providing shelter would suffer the backlash of fortune.
Not to mention whether anyone in the family would step forward to help him; the side effects of that would only exacerbate the situation, potentially leading to life-threatening outcomes.
From the moment the second lamp lit, his relationship with Liu Yumei and the others transformed into a reflection of how his grandfather had interacted with them before.
It was possible to share meals and live together, but once any matters regarding the metaphysics arose, they could trigger negative effects.
“Grandma, you also saw that, even if you officially proclaimed it today, in reality, I have long been stumbling through the dark along this river. What I mean is, however I traveled before, I will continue traveling that way. I have my own habits and my own rhythm. The old way may not have been the best, but it is what I explored to find the best for myself. So, shall we just continue as we were?”
“Little Yuan, you have your reasons, but I have my rules. You cannot just speak your own rationale while completely disregarding my rules. I have lived a dignified life my whole life and care about my own face. You need to let me catch a cold and cough a bit. That way, when you succeed in traversing the river, I can act coyly when meeting those old relics and say, ‘Actually, I just picked up the Dragon King.’”
“Since grandma has said so, then I will speak.”
“Speak.”
“You, Uncle Qin, and Aunt Liu should continue to teach Zhuangzhuang, Runsheng, and Yinmeng for a while.”
“What’s that? This was already a promise made to you, and it was promised twice.”
“What was true before is different now. The weight of different promises at different times can vary drastically.”
Before he began traversing the river, it was all inconsequential, but now it tied into the web of karma.
Based on the results he had already encountered while traversing the river, karma had indeed begun to appear.
For example, Uncle Qin came back gravely injured, or Aunt Liu almost got poisoned to death today.
One needed to teach Runsheng the martial arts, and the other needed to teach Yinmeng the art of poison.
As for the old lady, she had no problems, as she only taught Bland chat.
If it must come at a cost… then in this world, the thing with the best cost-benefit ratio is—learning.
Having Uncle Qin fight for him was not as beneficial as having Runsheng learn to grow into him; having Aunt Liu treat him or use poison was not as useful as having Yinmeng grow into Aunt Liu.
According to experience, the storms at the start of the journey wouldn’t be that strong, leaving room for error and growth within his team.
Liu Yumei inquired, “What about yourself? And what about me?”
Clearly, Liu Yumei sensed that this backlash effect had already begun.
Yet, despite being someone who had cared about their reputation all their life, she refused to allow only Ah Li and Aunt Liu to suffer; she needed to take a hit too, or it would feel incomplete.
“Grandma, you decide; help me choose a basic set of books, as basic as possible.”
“Actually, I can endure much more than the two of them.”
“I know, I believe in you.”
Li Zhuiyuan glanced at the chair Liu Yumei had originally sat in.
The armrests had been crushed, leaving two small piles of fine wood chips on the ground.
This wasn't something that came solely from brute strength.
“Then go ask Grandma for something decent, don't be shy; let her also contribute a bit.”
“But, I lack the basics.”
If the foundation isn’t strong, one will face losses; this was a lesson all teachers often mention.
Li Zhuiyuan suffered greatly because of this in the past.
Currently, he didn’t lack high-tier cultivation methods but focusing on those high-end secrets was not a priority as he could continue to dig them up in his grandfather's basement.
His grandfather considered ancient texts as worthless junk and never regarded them as his own property.
This meant that no matter how many sets of books he took, it wouldn't have any backlash consequences for his grandfather.
Liu Yumei closed her eyes as if resigned to her fate, and said lightly, “Alright then.”
Li Zhuiyuan smiled, “Grandma, once Runsheng and the others finish their studies, we’ll return to our previous patterns.”
“As you wish.”
Liu Yumei waved her hand, signaling him to leave quickly.
What came to her mind was the image of Li Sanjiang sitting on a small stool, calculating Li Zhuiyuan’s college expenses one by one.
Sometimes, even when one has conditions and foundations, being unable to offer anything is a kind of frustration.
Even more frustrating was that Liu Yumei realized she had been empathizing with Li Sanjiang lately.
“Grandma, I’m leaving now.”
Li Zhuiyuan walked towards Ah Li.
The youth did not particularly like Ah Li’s outfit today because it was too formal and lacked some innocence and playfulness.
Thankfully, one wouldn’t wear such attire often in a lifetime.
Ah Li stood up and extended her hand to him.
At the moment their hands intertwined, Li Zhuiyuan heard a chilling wail echo in his ears.
It should be that having entered the door of the Qin and Liu families had granted them acknowledgment.
His bond with Ah Li was, therefore, legally closer now.
It was also Li Zhuiyuan’s first realization that not just in the darkness of sleep, but even during the daylight, some things still entangled with her.
No wonder the girl had only liked to sit on the bench, gazing straight ahead; she was likely trying her best to shield herself from external disturbances.
This kind of intimidation and curse didn’t distinguish between day and night.
Like a parasite, it clung to her relentlessly.
Ah Li seemed to sense something; she closed her eyes slightly, wishing to sever this tie and protect the youth from its effects.
But as Li Zhuiyuan held her hand, he exerted a little strength, then concentrated his eyes, instantly entering the dark.
The girl lifted her head, gazing at the youth, who then gently raised her hand, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
Not saying it, even while playing chess, eating, or sketching together, you still experienced this kind of scene.
The girl stayed silent.
The youth held her hand and walked outside.
He pushed open the door; beyond it lay a corridor.
Outside was a bloody, muddy swamp.
They descended the stairs; soft mats cushioned their steps, and the stairs were built from heaps of white bones, countless hands reaching out from within, seeking to grasp their ankles.
Once at the ground floor, the dining table was already set by Aunt Liu with a sumptuous lunch; the table featured a large pot with a gigantic meat lump simmering within.
The meat lump had eyes, hands, and legs, rolling around in the pot, while its mouth, comparatively smaller, uttered foul curses.
They arrived at the front door, and outside stood the three-story modest townhouse; opening the door revealed a scene of wind and rain clashing outside.
They reached the threshold of an ancient-style bungalow, where a throng of grotesque and terrifying entities paused their activities to face this way and flashed chilling smiles.
Li Zhuiyuan was unwell.
Li Lan had mentioned that mother and son were monsters clad in human skin.
Their inherent rationality extinguished emotion, relegating even the closest kin to foolish and repugnant lower beings.
If they viewed people this way, what regard could they possibly have for things that were even less than human?
Or in other words, a child who had played with evil spirits as toys at the age of ten wouldn’t naturally have any fear of these entities in his bones.
The youth held the girl’s hand, stepping out of the door; they crossed the threshold together.
Li Zhuiyuan faced the raging storm and glanced around at the filthy evils surrounding them.
“For those who cannot escape their seals, I will find you in the future, break your seals, and send you on your way myself! For those still suppressed and not yet extinguished, I will suppress them, refine and enhance the formations, and watch you shatter to pieces.
For those already dead yet enjoying the incense offerings from various families to sustain yourselves, those who offer to you—I shall bring blood and ruin to those houses! Do not think I’m merely making threats; if you don’t believe it, let’s peel back this human skin and see who is truly less than human!”
As his words ended, the rain dissipated as if a rainbow shone through.
…
Liu Yumei stood by the window, watching the sunlight pierce through the clouds, gradually clearing the sky.
The tears she had held in for so long eventually soaked her eyes.
Yet she still held strong, not letting a single tear fall.
Because she knew, in this world, no one truly cared whether she cried.
In the past, when she was still a young lady of the Liu family, a mere drop from her eye would have her brothers circling her worryingly; that old fellow would even go to great lengths to entertain her, scrupulously ignoring the identity of the young master of the Qin family just to coax a smile from her.
They had all left her behind.
Only she remained.
She understood that people on the river still feared her, but what they truly feared were not the former Dragon Kings Liu or Qin.
Even if they were cordial on the surface, performing rituals and bowing, in their hearts, they were probably already cursing her.
Mocking her as a decrepit old lady upholding two Dragon King’s plaques, just to maintain the dignity she was reluctant to part with.
But a plaque does not gain authority just by being polished; it must be splattered with blood and cleaned with fresh blood.
Outward compliance and inward defiance was inconsequential.
Kneel down, rise your head; what I wish to see is the fear and panic in your eyes.
I, the dignified young lady of the Liu family, have never known the meaning of “being wronged” since birth until marriage.
Yet in these recent years, you’ve forced me to swallow so much.
Come, and take a good look at this grand gift I’ve sent you.
“This underworld—should spill rivers of blood, for this young lady’s relief!”
…
The sky cleared, and the rain stopped.
Next door, the old professor’s wife was cursing the heavens for breaking their television.
In this day and age, a television was a significant and expensive item, and she even shouted out its model, a color TV.
As she continued her tirade, the old woman suddenly shouted, “Why don’t you strike that Shi Yuqing dead instead!”
Shi Yuqing was a student the old professor had taught in his youth; she had just divorced this year.
On Li Zhuiyuan’s side, after everyone had settled down and enjoyed lunch, they resumed whatever they’d been doing in the morning after the meal.
Ah Li was in the study, painting; she first sketched out the layout of the ritual room, including the other participants present earlier.
She planned to paint the youth last, much like how other children eat cake, finishing the bread first and leaving the last mouthful for the frosting they cherish most.
Li Zhuiyuan watched her paint in the middle.
He stepped out to brew some tea.
Usually, Aunt Liu would kindly bring the tea in, but now she couldn’t do so; after teaching Yinmeng and cooking a dish, she had made the whole ground floor a mess.
Eventually, Liu Yumei lost her temper and assigned the two of them to that house outside the school to continue their teaching there.
Li Zhuiyuan noticed that Aunt Liu’s teaching style was tailored to the individual; she blended the principles of poison-making with cooking experience, using culinary approaches to impart lessons to Yinmeng.
This teaching method must have been incredibly effective.
But it also quietly reminded Li Zhuiyuan to advise Runsheng never to let Yinmeng near the kitchen again.
As for Runsheng, he now experienced intense suffering.
Qin Shu had taught him a set of boxing techniques, and Runsheng was practicing.
Earlier, while in the room, Li Zhuiyuan could hear the sounds of bones and muscles tearing as Runsheng trained.
When the youth came outside with a kettle of hot water, he saw Runsheng not only bleeding from everywhere but also drenched in a mix of sweat and blood.
“Keep practicing.”
Qin Shu, after giving instructions, approached Li Zhuiyuan and explained, “I’m correcting his former mistakes and re-establishing the foundation.”
“Mm.”
Li Zhuiyuan understood that Qin Shu had misunderstood; he probably thought this training method seemed cruel and pitiful towards Runsheng.
However, in reality, Li Zhuiyuan neither felt pity but rather appreciated this visibly presented training effect.
Qin Shu pointed at Runsheng, “I noticed this kid was extraordinary when he was at Li Shu’s house, but unfortunately, back then, I couldn’t teach you much.”
“Uncle Qin, can I ask you something?”
“Little Yuan, you want to ask about how I failed in traversing the river back then, right?”
“Yes.”
“When the time comes, I will tell you. I am not being sentimental, but I am counting on you to help me get revenge on those guys.”
“No, Uncle Qin, you misunderstood; I’m not interested in avenging you.” Li Zhuiyuan pointed towards Runsheng, “You should rely on him instead.”
“Fine, I get it; I’ll work him hard.”
(The End)