Si Teng (Rattan) – CH 052

Chapter 52

On the way back, everyone else was fine, but Taoist Master Ma Qiuyang, alone, was extremely anxious. He kept asking Temple Abbot Cang Hong, “Is it true that it won’t relapse? Is it true that it won’t relapse in my lifetime? Can we trust Si Teng’s words?”

How could such a person have become the head of the Taoist temple? Ding Dacheng was incredibly disgusted with him. “So what if you can’t trust her? Even if Si Teng goes back on her word, can you still fight her to the death?”

Already overwhelmed, with his own people stirring up trouble, Abbot Cang Hong of Baiyun Temple was truly overwhelmed. Professor Bai Jin thought for a moment and said, “I think it’s still believable. However, Miss Si Teng doesn’t activate the Killing Vine, and she’s also keeping a close eye on you. As the saying goes, if you don’t move, she won’t move. If you make a move, your life will be at stake.”

Qiyun Mountain’s Liu Hexiang, who had been largely silent throughout their journey, nodded in agreement. “After all, as long as we don’t mess with her in the future, she’s unlikely to bother us.”

As they spoke, they reached the hotel entrance. Abbot Cang Hong of Baiyun Temple reached for the doorbell but glanced up and saw the lights on and curtains drawn in the second-floor apartment next door, Chen Yindeng’s. Yangbo was perched by the window, staring at them motionlessly, his face shrouded in the shadow of the light.

Master Cang Hong felt a tingling sensation on his scalp, and a chill instantly filled his chest.

After the incident, he first worried about how to explain it to Pan Qinian’s family, then worried about the lack of explanation for the Killing Vine in everyone. He’d completely forgotten about Chen Yindeng. Sure, they now knew Chen Yindeng was Red Umbrella, a demon, neither male nor female, and its death was not a pity, but Yangbo didn’t know.

Sweat began to bead on his forehead, and he whispered, “How are we going to explain this to him?”

Master Ma Qiuyang, already resentful of Ding Dacheng’s earlier retort, was inexplicably puzzled by his words. “How are we going to explain this? Are we going to tell him his wife is an androgynous monster, killed by another female monster?”

Master Zhang Shaohua sighed, “We have to come up with an explanation. After all, Miss Chen left with us. Now that she can’t come back, everyone will suspect us. If Yangbo calls the police, we’ll all be in trouble.”

That was correct. If they really got to the bottom of this, everyone had a connection. Everyone was worried. They were all a bit nervous. Looking up, they saw Yangbo still standing there, even after they’d talked for so long. Ding Dacheng cursed instinctively and rolled up his sleeves to show Bai Jin. “Is this kid sick, or is he stuck? It’s creepy. I’m giving him goosebumps.”

Strange as it was, he couldn’t just stand there at the door forever. Master Cang Hong pressed the doorbell. When the owner opened the door, he looked very unhappy and kept nagging them about being back too late. Master Cang Hong and his companions went upstairs amidst the owner’s nagging. As they took the key to open the door, they couldn’t help but glance at Yangbo again. They were so shocked by what they saw that they almost dropped the key.

Yangbo’s face had turned towards them, his eyes gleaming frighteningly bright in the darkness. Seeing Master Cang Hong looking at him, he grinned in response, revealing a row of neat white teeth.

Temple Abbot Cang Hong’s heart was pounding, and he could only smile awkwardly. “You haven’t slept yet?”

The stilt houses in the Miao village were very close together, with the second floors level, making it very convenient for greeting and passing things. Yangbo said, “No.”

He looked cheerful and seemed eager to continue chatting. Temple Abbot Cang Hong was speechless. After a long pause, he managed a sentence. “Miss Chen…are you okay?”

He felt a little puzzled, and his question was a bit tentative: it was the middle of the night, and his young wife hadn’t returned yet. Shouldn’t Yangbo be asking anxiously? Why would he be interested in chatting with him?

Yangbo said, “Ask our Ah’Yin. She’s fine.”

Temple Abbot Cang Hong was confused.

What did “fine” mean? Where did this “fine” even come from?

***

Qin Fang tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He lay in bed and listened for a while. The creaking of the rocking chair outside seemed endless. He sighed, threw on his clothes, and went outside. He dragged a chair with him and sat down next to Si Teng.

Si Teng heard the noise and initially ignored him, but with a living person right next to her, she couldn’t really ignore him. Finally, she asked, “Anything to say?”

Qin Fang hesitated. “Nothing.”

Si Teng sneered. “Nothing? You look like you’re in mourning for Chen Yindeng. Today in the cave, I attacked Chen Yindeng, and why did you call me? You don’t think she deserves to die, do you?”

In the cave? Qin Fang remembered. Back then, he did want to stop her, but he only called out her name, swallowing the rest of the words before he could say them. Did Si Teng think he was sympathetic to Chen Yindeng?

Qin Fang didn’t know how to explain. He thought for a long time before saying, “When Chen Yindeng accused you of cannibalism and called you vulgar, you acted strangely. You just smiled, not distinguishing anything. I thought that you have been controlled by Qiu Shan since you were a child. Qiu Shan never taught you right from wrong, good from evil, so you don’t understand. If you understood, you wouldn’t have done that. You were later ostracized and hated by your own kind, and you must have struggled painfully. But this time, after your resurrection, you urgently needed to obtain demonic power. As a result, you had to do something you didn’t want to do again… I didn’t want you to do something difficult, but I felt like this was the only way… I can’t explain it clearly, just understand.”

Si Teng was silent for a long time after hearing this. Then, she did something strange. She reached out and patted Qin Fang on the head, saying, “Qin Fang, you’re really like a considerate child.”

Qin Fang smiled bitterly. Was she fixated on calling the Master Cang Hong “junior” today? She actually called him a child.

Si Teng was in a daze. The creaking of the rocking chair suddenly fell silent, just like her. After a moment, she said, “It’s a bit cold. Qin Fang, get a blanket.”

Qin Fang followed her instructions and went inside to get a blanket to cover her. “Weren’t you not afraid of the cold before?”

Si Teng felt tired. “After all, we’re not of the same race. Chen Yindeng’s demonic power doesn’t quite match mine. I need a day or two to get used to it.”

Speaking of Chen Yindeng, Qin Fang suddenly remembered something. “Today in the cave, she said she’d use the Taoist priest’s blood to nourish her descendants.” Then Pan Qinian fell to his death… Those Amanita muscaria were all gigantic and strange. Could they really have transformed after being soaked in Pan Qinian’s blood?

Si Teng laughed. “Do you think human blood is fertilizer? Can it make mushrooms grow? I’m going to seal that cave and burn the body and the Amanita muscaria after I’ve rested for two days.”

Qin Fang was a little worried. “Aren’t you afraid that the night will be long and full of dreams?”

“You already said it was a dream. If I don’t make it come true, it will always remain a dream. Where were we just now?”

Just now? Oh, yes, the topic had changed. What were we talking about?

Before he could answer, Si Teng remembered. “Oh, we were talking about Qiu Shan.”

***

It was Qiu Shan again. In her previous life, she could never get around that name, like an ant clinging to a piece of meat.

Qin Fang was right. Qiu Shan had never taught her anything. The natural tendency of species to seek good fortune and avoid danger made her believe that Qiu Shan was the heaven and that as long as she flattered and obeyed, her sky would be clear.

Then, how did consciousness gradually awaken?

Was it some people running away crying and calling her a “monster,” some young Taoist priests who had accidentally waded into the muddy waters calling her an “evil beast,” or was it her own kind who, before struggling to death, cursed her as “worse than pigs and dogs, a traitor”?

Thinking back on it, the world was ironic. Children’s first reading material was the Three Character Classic, which said that people were born good, and people with similar personalities were close, but their habits made them different. But she was not like that. She was cursed and hated from all sides. When she was dizzy from the scolding, she began to ask herself, “Who the hell am I?”

So she began to pay attention, listening to ghost stories on the streets. She would intentionally or unintentionally ask people if Taoists and monsters were inherently opposed and would feign innocence by asking, “Would a Taoist raise a monster?”

The other person would laugh heartily. “How could a Taoist raise a monster? That’s a lie!”

Sometimes she thought, if Shao Yankuan hadn’t taught her to read and understand reason, she would have remained a blindly obedient monster, undiscerning, and perhaps she wouldn’t have struggled so much later.

She fled eastward, the knot in her heart unresolved. Like all those in dire straits, she placed her hopes in seeking Taoist teachings, seeking Buddha, and even those missionary priests from the West, but they always offered her some mystical maxims, telling her to figure it out on her own.

What about the saying, “All things are born from fate, and following fate is happiness”? Was she supposed to just accept it? Did that mean everything Qiu Shan did was right?

Why ask where she lived? Her home was in the depths of the white clouds. If she had a home, would she still be on the run?

What did they mean when they said if someone hits you on the right cheek, you turn the left cheek and let him hit it? Was this because the five elements lack the ability to hit?

Then she remembered what Shao Yankuan had said: if there was anything she didn’t understand, she could look for it in books. The vast ocean of books, filled with classics, might be able to guide her. So she read a lot, all sorts of stories, all kinds of bizarre encounters. No one had the same experience as her, but they also helped her, bit by bit, to understand her own path.

Dou E was truly wronged. If she were Dou E, she would have strangled Zhang Lu’er with a vine and hanged the prefect who had confessed to her crime with another. She wouldn’t have foolishly submitted to death. So what if June’s frost splattered her blood on the white silk? Death would mean nothing. But then again, Dou E was a weak woman, at the mercy of others. She couldn’t be weak. She had to be a terrifying demon, one that the Taoists wouldn’t dare bully and the demon world wouldn’t dare to act rashly against.

And then there’s Yue Fei, facing twelve golden medals demanding his death, who returned knowing he would die. She wouldn’t do that. If others were kind, she would be kind; if others were righteous, she would be righteous. If others were unkind and unrighteous, she’d raise a banner to conquer her own kingdom and become her own emperor, unbothered by the wrath of others… Monsters weren’t bound by so many constraints, nor did they fear the crime of deceiving the emperor.

…

Later, arriving at the Gusu ferry, waiting for a boat to cross the river, one claimed to be ferrying rice workers, another was carrying earthenware jars, and yet another was already full. The river was deep and shallow, with watermarks crisscrossing and lingering for a long time. As she watched, she suddenly understood.

There were as many paths as there were people in this world. Why worry about the future? Each followed his own path. Those with the same path were close friends; those with different paths could not work together. Life was like a long river with thousands of ferryboats, but the only way to truly cross the river was to cross by oneself.

***

Si Teng said to Qin Fang, “You’re right. After learning about the rebellious nature of cannibalism, I certainly didn’t feel good about it. And I certainly didn’t do it again. When I fled east, I spread the rumor that I’d killed three more demons. That was to scare Qiu Shan into fearing me. He wouldn’t know my true capabilities, so he wouldn’t dare attack me.”

“But what’s done was done, and I didn’t want to die as an atonement. I still wanted to live, so I’ve forgiven myself. Of course, others may not forgive me, and they can seek revenge on me. Go ahead. If they can defeat me, take my head. If they can’t, get lost quickly. Don’t bother me.”

“There’s nothing to worry about Chen Yindeng’s situation. Without demonic powers, I’d survive as a half-demon. Even if I’m not killed, I’d die of old age like a human. From the moment I knew she was Red Umbrella, I made my decision. Neither Chen Yindeng nor I are good people. She wants me dead, and I want her dead. We each rely on our own strength and accept defeat. It’s like us vines. In our struggle for sunlight, water, and air, we inevitably cover the weaker branches. You humans support the elderly and the young, while we demons live by the law of nature, where only the fittest survive. We have different paths, so we can’t work together.”

So that’s how it was. Now that she said that, his previous worries seemed a bit groundless and self-indulgent. Perhaps they really were on different paths.

There was a moment of silence. The wind suddenly picked up, lifting a corner of the blanket. Qin Fang bent down to tuck her in. Si Teng looked at Qin Fang, her heart warming slightly. She said, “Actually, it won’t be a big deal if you leave me now.”

“Before, your appearance changed when you were away from me because my demonic power was too weak to support your vitality. Now it’s okay.”

Qin Fang was silent for a moment. “Isn’t there a fifth thing? I heard you ask Master Cang Hong. Is the fifth thing to do… to find the corpse of another Si Teng?”