Si Teng (Rattan) – CH 013

Chapter 13

From Nangqian to Qingcheng, during their several days of travel together, Qin Fang and Si Teng finally reached a kind of equilibrium, suppressing their initial tension.

Qin Fang summarized that this was mainly due to his own efforts.

He summarized it in two points.

First, he relaxed his attitude. Resurrection and encountering spirits completely overturned his daily perceptions and worldview. He lacked experience at first, but with time, he realized, why bother arguing with her or making things difficult for himself? He couldn’t beat her, couldn’t out-argue her, morality couldn’t control her, and the law couldn’t restrain her. Even humans at their worst are invincible; how much more so a spirit? As a mere mortal, he relied on her supernatural abilities. As long as her actions weren’t too outrageous, what harm could there be in cooperating with her until their relationship inevitably ended?

If her actions were cruel and caused widespread suffering, well, as a human being, he still had a sense of justice. Qin Fang had imagined himself bravely standing up to her, even if it meant dying in the process—he found the thought quite moving. After all, death wasn’t the end of the world. Thinking like that, it suddenly seemed unimportant.

Secondly…

This second point was truly crucial. Just two words, but an eternal truth.

Money.

Qin Fang was grateful that he hadn’t been content with a comfortable, unambitious life. When he used to work tirelessly and curse under his breath, Shan Zhigang comforted him: “You can’t see the rainbow without the storm; one day you’ll realize it all had meaning!”

Yes, that day had finally come. It wasn’t just meaningful; it was incredibly meaningful!

He never hesitated to grant Si Teng’s requests. High-quality, handmade cheongsams? Fine. Expensive, stylish heels in various colors? Sure. The best mink coat? Of course. A ​​car for transportation? No problem.

When the salesperson quoted the price of the mink coat, even he hesitated, but Qin Fang didn’t care. Instead, he asked Si Teng, who was trying it on in front of the mirror, “How about getting two, so you can alternate?”

The salesperson was so moved she started to cry. She turned to the cashier and exclaimed, “True love! This is true love!”

Qin Fang just shook his head, amused.

While shopping with Si Teng, he kept thinking about An Man. He had never shopped with her before. An Man had said, “I know men hate shopping; forced things aren’t good, so I’ll handle it myself.” At the time, he thought An Man was so sensible and considerate, a truly virtuous woman who never caused any trouble for men. Only after things went wrong did he start to reflect: if relationships between men and women always involved one party being so submissive and accommodating, could such relationships truly be stable and long-lasting?

Regardless of whether it was forced or not, he had done so much for Si Teng, so what about An Man? Thinking about it now, it just left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had to find An Man, dead or alive.

***

Si Teng might be domineering, but at least she was sensible. She appreciated the things Qin Fang did and the money he spent, and her attitude wasn’t as bad as before. Occasionally, she would even answer his questions—Qin Fang was quite satisfied. Maintaining this kind of relationship was good enough; his ultimate goal was to eventually break up with her, so there was no need to take it any further.

Wang Qiankun and Yan Furui’s figures disappeared along the winding path leading uphill.

Qin Fang pointed to the path: “I asked many people. A few older people still remembered Taoist Qiu Shan. They said he had a disciple who lived up there. Besides him, there’s no one else on the mountain. One of those two we just saw probably is his disciple.”

Si Teng seemed quite contemplative: “Li Zhengyuan and Qiu Shan were both influential figures in the Taoist world back then. Their descendants are truly a far cry from their ancestors.”

Qin Fang’s heart skipped a beat. He cautiously asked her, “You won’t cause them any trouble, right?”

Si Teng looked at the path leading uphill, recalling what the two Taoists had said.

—”I believe that if Master Li Zhengyuan were still alive…”

—”He’s my great-grandmaster…”

Master Li Zhengyuan, still alive, great-grandmaster… Initially, after being resurrected, the seventy-seven years felt like just a number. When she went out recently and saw the various aspects of modern life, she only thought that things had indeed changed over time. But now, at this moment, she suddenly felt a sense of melancholy and emptiness, something deeply personal.

They were all gone now.

It was true that revenge should be taken early; waiting until all your enemies are dead, only to dig up their graves and flog their corpses, or whip their descendants three hundred times—that was just a low and despicable tactic.

She turned her gaze away and said, “Let’s go up and take a look.”

***

Wang Qiankun and Yan Furui had obviously gone down into the cave. Their conversation occasionally drifted up, one excited, the other calm.

—”Master Wang, look! This! This root! It’s so hard! Listen, it makes a ringing sound when you tap it!”

—”Master Yan, solid objects generally make a sound when tapped. It’s indeed strange that this vine grew so fast overnight, but there must be an explanation, such as radiation exposure or some kind of mineral underground that suddenly reacted chemically…”

Suddenly, the sound of a chainsaw started. Qin Fang, who was listening at the cave entrance, jumped. After about four or five seconds, the sound stopped.

—”See, Master Wang? I tried to cut it with a knife first, but the blade got dull! So I had to use a chainsaw. Look at this blood! Can’t you see it?”

—”Master Yan, please don’t jump to conclusions so quickly. Just because something is red doesn’t mean it’s blood. It could be pigment. Tree sap can be red too, you know. The balsam flowers that ladies used to dye their nails with—when crushed, they’re red, aren’t they? Are we going to say that the red stuff coming out of the flower is blood? Of course, some writers might use that as a metaphor—it’s a kind of romantic rhetoric…”

Qin Fang found it amusing that there could be such a rigid and pedantic Taoist priest who always had to cite science. He glanced at Si Teng, who stood in the clearing surrounded by broken vines, her face ashen as she coldly surveyed the hanging vines on the trees.

Qin Fang sensed something was amiss. He stood up and walked to Si Teng, asking, “What’s wrong?”

Si Teng remained silent. The rope ladder at the entrance to the cave swayed, indicating that someone was climbing up.

—”Master Yan, I suggest you report this to the authorities. Let the government handle it. Don’t be so superstitious, and stop talking about ‘monsters’ all the time. Wafang is still young, and being constantly influenced by your beliefs is bad for his development…”

—”Didn’t you say this place was going to be demolished? That’s good. You should move to a more normal neighborhood. This remote area is bound to breed superstition…”

Yan Furui mumbled a few vague replies, his voice clearly dejected.

After climbing out of the cave, neither of them noticed Si Teng and Qin Fang standing nearby. They were busy brushing off the dust on themselves until Si Teng suddenly asked, “Which of you is Qiu Shan’s disciple?”

“Me!” Yan Furui instinctively replied, startled to hear Master Qiu Shan’s name. After seeing who asked the question, he froze for a couple of seconds. “You… are looking for me?”

“Qiu Shan has really made a name for himself! I wasn’t even born in Qingcheng, but they dug up my ancestral grave!”

Yan Furui was completely bewildered. He couldn’t immediately connect Si Teng with the situation. After a moment of confusion, he cautiously asked Si Teng, “You mean my master dug up your ancestors’ graves?”

Si Teng gave a cold laugh.

Yan Furui looked bewildered, then glanced at Wang Qiankun.

Wang Qiankun laughed even more coldly than Si Teng. “Enjoying yourselves, Master Yan? I finally understand. You two must have been in on this together tonight! No wonder I ran into you both right away. You even got yourselves dressed up, with those cheongsams, and then put on this little show in front of me! Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!”

He then turned his anger on Si Teng and Qin Fang: “Young and able-bodied, yet you choose to do something like this! Gang fraud!”

This man was so noisy. Si Teng’s eyes narrowed, and two vines from above suddenly shot down like silver snakes, wrapping around Wang Qiankun’s ankles and hoisting him upside down into the air. Wang Qiankun’s head was dangling downwards, blood rushing to his brain, and he screamed like a slaughtered pig. His screams only seemed to make Si Teng angrier. She used some kind of magic, and the vines began swinging Wang Qiankun back and forth in mid-air, like a pirate ship in a park. His screams echoed, sometimes loud, sometimes faint, periodically passing over Qin Fang’s head.

Qin Fang couldn’t help but laugh. He thought Wang Qiankun sounded like Tarzan the ape-man.

Yan Furui was stunned. He finally realized who this person was.

He had been shouting about monsters and demons, but now that a real monster was standing before him, he was completely flustered: “This can’t be real, right? It’s just acting, right?” Yan Furui’s legs started trembling: “You… you’re… Si Teng?”

Si Teng approached him: “Since you know who I am, what else did your master tell you?”

Seeing Si Teng getting closer, Yan Furui was so terrified his hair stood on end. He raised the chainsaw in front of him, his hand already on the switch: “Don’t come any closer, or I won’t be polite…”

Before he could finish speaking, another vine lashed out, making a sharp sound. The long, gleaming steel blade snapped off, leaving only a small part connected to the engine. The switch was pressed, and the few centimeters of broken blade whirred, adding a touch of absurdity to the scene.

Qin Fang sighed; he really didn’t want to watch any more. It wasn’t his problem anyway. He was thinking of finding a chair and waiting calmly when he heard a creaking door and a child’s sleepy voice: “Master, who’s calling?”

Oh no! Yan Furui’s hands and feet turned icy with fear. He shouted, “Wafang, run! Run!”

Si Teng’s reaction was incredibly fast. Before Yan Furui could finish speaking, another vine lashed out like a dragon in the night, wrapping around Wafang from his feet to his neck, like a thick coil. Before Qin Fang could even see clearly, he heard a swish, and the vine, with Wafang wrapped in it, stopped in front of Si Teng, swaying about a meter off the ground, like a lantern. Qin Fang instinctively shouted, “Si Teng, no! It’s a child!”

Wafang had been sleeping soundly when he was woken by the rhythmic howling from the roof. Yawning, he opened the door to see what was going on. Before he was fully awake, something wrapped tightly around him. This startled him wide awake, and he remembered his master’s words, “Run, run!” He thought someone was going to kill him and started to cry, his mouth wide open. Just then, the vine that was around his neck lifted, and when Qin Fang arrived, the vine pressed tightly against Wafang’s mouth.

***

Suddenly, there was an eerie silence, except for the echoing background noise—Wang Qiankun’s nerves were truly strong; he hadn’t fainted after all those shocks.

“What else did your master tell you?”

Yan Furui remembered the bound book in his pocket and felt his heart pounding. Si Teng looked at him with a cold smile, then her gaze shifted to Wafang, and her tongue flicked across her lips.

Was this monster about to eat him? Yan Furui’s heart almost leaped out of his chest. He shrieked, “No, no! There’s a book! It mentions you! It’s about you!”

His hands trembling, he reached into his inner pocket. This book was left by his master; he treasured it, even wrapped it in oiled paper. He carefully unwrapped it, flipped to the page, and held it out to Si Teng. Si Teng didn’t look at him: “Read it!”

Yan Furui trembled, and the pages of the book rattled in his hands, sounding brittle as if they would shatter at any moment. “Si Teng transformed in the southwest in 1910. Originally a white vine, she was commonly known as the Ghost Rope. She was poisonous, skilled in strangulation, and ruthless, killing her own kind. She was also known as the Demon Killer. She was unrivaled at the time, undefeated by her enemies. The demons gnashed their teeth in fury, and the Taoists trembled in fear. Fortunately, in 1946…”

He paused, hesitant to read further, fearing that mentioning Master Qiu Shan’s slaying of Si Teng might enrage the spirit. But even with that brief pause, Si Teng’s gaze, sharp as a blade, pierced him: “What happened in 1946?”

“Fortunately, in 1946, Master Qiu Shan killed Si Teng in Shanghai…”

“Read that sentence again!”

Yan Furui’s legs trembled at Si Teng’s command: “Fortunately, in 1946, Heavenly Master Qiu Shanzhen killed Si Teng in Shanghai…”

“Read it again!”

“Fortunately, in 1946, Heavenly Master Qiu Shanzhen killed Si Teng in Shanghai…”

“Read it again! You stop when I tell you to!”

…

At some point, Wang Qiankun above stopped making any noise. Perhaps he was tired, or perhaps he had fainted. The wind blew, gently swaying the flower curtains around them, the white petals brushing against each other, a faint fragrance wafting in the air. In this vast Qingcheng, during the long night, amidst the rustling leaves, only one phrase was repeated like a mantra…

“Fortunately, in 1946, Heavenly Master Qiu Shanzhen killed Si Teng in Shanghai. Fortunately, in 1946, Heavenly Master Qiu Shanzhen killed Si Teng in Shanghai…”

Qin Fang sensed something was wrong. After hesitating for a long time, he asked Si Teng, “What’s wrong?”

Si Teng didn’t look at him. Her expression was strange; initially, it seemed like a blank sadness, but very quickly, it turned into a bewitching, alluring smile. A smile slowly crept to the corners of her lips, and she said, “It was a good kill.”