The water surged, fiercely rushing over the jagged rapids, throwing up clouds of white foam and creating a series of wild, deafening screeches. Upon encountering large boulders blocking its path, the furious current crashed against them with a roar. Defeated, lacking the strength to knock down the obstacles, the current split, temporarily veering to both sides, only to joyfully merge again, leaving a small whirlpool near the base of the blocking boulder, just ahead of the confluence. And because the terrain here was entirely made up of similar treacherous spots, the swirling force of each small vortex inadvertently created another, far more violent vortex—completely hidden, revealing itself only once at a sudden deep depression in the rapids, where the water at first glance seemed calm and placid, but beneath that surface lay a deadly whirlpool.
A small riverboat had long been anchored quite close to that depression in the rapids. On the boat was only one person, a ragged youth whose clothes, though not dirty, were old and clumsily patched in many places. For a long time, he had been staring intently at the deadly whirlpool, which was barely over two zhang away, but he had a purpose. Suddenly, he exhaled and raised his face to look upward. Only then did it become apparent that he was at most fifteen or sixteen years old. His face was clear and bright as he scanned his surroundings, from near to far, and from the depths below to the heights above.
Closest to him was the fierce water, constantly swirling and cascading down from high above. In the distance, solitary cliffs loomed on all sides, interspersed with all kinds of wild vegetation growing among the rocks. It was a truly gloomy and desolate landscape. High above, as far as his eyes could see, was the majestic and imposing Qingshan mountain range, which was, above all, perpetually desolate and silent.
Directly above his head was the underside of an abruptly protruding ledge of rock, which not only blocked his view but also provided concealment for any action he had wanted to take and was now about to take. So much so that he was absolutely certain that if he were to die here, right in this deadly whirlpool, no one would ever see him to rescue him immediately, even if a bystander had wished to do so.
After taking in the entire surrounding landscape, he deliberately opened his mouth to draw a long, deep breath and stood up straight. He did not wobble in the slightest, despite standing on a small boat that rocked and swayed constantly on the water, beneath which dangerous undercurrents swirled. And suddenly, he lunged forward, leaping off the boat and diving headfirst into the water.
Splash...!!
At that very moment, another splash resounded on the water's surface, so close in time that it was difficult to tell which of the two impacts had occurred first.
All that was certain was that because there were two splashes, it was no surprise when, a moment later, as he struggled to surface, he had another person in his grasp—undoubtedly someone who had plunged into the water at the exact same time as him.
And as mentioned, because a deadly whirlpool lurked deep beneath the surface here, it was with great difficulty that he managed to drag the person back to his boat. Consequently, his strength was almost entirely depleted by the time he heaved the other onto the boat. As for himself, his breathing grew rapid and heavy, especially during his final, agonizing effort to pull his own body back aboard.
Even so, once he was back on the boat, because it was so small, their bodies lay stretched out flat right next to each other. He smiled to himself in satisfaction as he turned his gaze to the figure lying beside him:
Who would have thought that even a monk would try to escape the mortal world by drowning himself in a bid to end his own life?
He was referring to the man he had just saved. To his surprise, the figure—who indeed looked every bit a monk, with a shaved head and clad in monastic robes—suddenly spoke up. His voice was incredibly faint, little more than a whisper, gasping out in broken breaths:
“Thank you… for saving… this poor monk’s life… but please, do not stay… I fear my pursuers… will not let this go…”
Startled, the youth sat up abruptly, staring even harder at the monk. This allowed him to notice two things: first, the monk was rapidly losing consciousness; second, a pool of blood was spreading from his side, just below his waist. His expression instantly hardened. Despite his young age, he possessed enough courage to speak a few reassuring words, hoping the monk would hear them before slipping away completely:
“Great Master, you are gravely wounded? Do not worry. I know martial arts, and I will not let those killers harm you further. I cannot believe there are people so wicked as to do this to a master who does nothing but chant sutras and pray to Buddha every day.”
The monk had already fainted and likely did not hear his words. Even so, the youth kept his promise. He immediately pulled a roll of fishing net from the corner of the boat and decisively draped it over the monk, covering him completely. Next, from the same corner, he retrieved a few more items before calmly rowing his boat away from the rocky reef and the deceptively calm waters that hid a treacherous, deadly whirlpool beneath.
The boat glided downstream, entering a wide estuary where countless small streams converged after winding down from steep, towering cliffs. Like many other rivers, the banks were dotted with wild thickets—sometimes growing so densely that they formed impenetrable walls of green, and sometimes breaking apart to reveal barren rocks where no vegetation could take root.
From one such rock, a voice suddenly rang out, clearly calling to him:
“Amitabha. Benefactor, has your boat just come down from upstream?”
The call made him ease up on his oars. He smiled when he realized that, by some stroke of luck, the speaker was another monk:
“You are correct, Great Master. I have indeed just come down from upstream. Is there something you need?”
Although the distance between the boat and the bank where the monk stood was quite wide, the youth could easily see him smiling as he replied:
“It is nothing, except… Ah, are you traveling much further, benefactor? If it is convenient, I hope you might be generous enough to give this poor monk a lift for a short distance.”
The youth’s hands froze on the oars, his expression faltering slightly. But once he composed himself, he smiled again and tactfully declined:
“I am terribly sorry, but I am merely a fisherman, permitted only to cast my nets to scrape a living day by day. As for ferrying passengers across the river, I must ask you to walk back upstream a short distance. There, you will surely find some ferrymen who make their living by carrying travelers.”
The monk looked surprised and quickly called out when he noticed that the boat, though moving slowly, was continuing to drift away:
“Do you mean to say that there are strict laws here as well, clearly defining each person’s duties?”
The youth began to row faster, shouting back as the distance between them grew:
“A hundred miles along this stretch of the river falls under the domain of the Water Overlord! Even I, if I fail to catch my daily quota of fish, cannot escape punishment. Please forgive me, but I am not allowed to return late either!”
He rowed his boat swiftly. Yet, when he looked back, he saw that instead of leaving to find another boat to cross the river, the monk remained standing in the exact same spot, staring intently after him. Because of this, upon reaching a deserted stretch of the river, he gave the oar a sharp pull, steering the boat deep into a dense thicket of wild bushes until it was completely hidden from view.
A moment later, he emerged with his boat once more, leisurely drifting downstream with the air of a casual traveler. It was not until dusk fell that he began rowing in earnest, hurrying back to the docks. There, as he maneuvered his boat to the shore, weaving through several other small vessels that had already docked, a voice called out to him:
"Back late again today, are we? What's the matter, Xiao Gui? I only hope you've caught your full quota this time, and aren't short like before."
He did not reply, merely lifting two heavy baskets from the deck—the very items he had pulled from the corner of the boat after covering the hunted monk with a net. Watching him trudge heavily ashore with a full basket in each hand, the same voice spoke up again, dripping with mockery:
"Everyone knows you despise us. But under Master Shui Bawang, no one is allowed to sit idle. You, Xiao Gui, don't know the ways of the water well and are still so young, so is a daily quota of twenty catties of fish really too much to ask? Don't go thinking we're being deliberately harsh on you. Otherwise, haha... if we went easy on you and the Master found out, do you think he'd let any of us off lightly? Haha..."
Still, he did not answer. He trudged past a group of burly men who seemed to be waiting for him. As he drew near, one of them leaned forward to peer into his heavy baskets. Only then did the youth speak, his voice strained and breathless from the heavy load:
"One basket is twelve catties, the other is eight. It's all fish, as you can see, brother."
The man thrust his arm deep into the basket, right up to his elbow, a sneer playing on his lips:
"If not for Master Shui Bawang's generosity in taking you in, would you even be alive today, Xiao Gui? Or would you have starved to death, died of thirst, or rotted in some ditch long ago? Drop the resentful tone and the ungrateful attitude. Besides, I'm not so sure this is all fish. What if you're playing tricks and stuffed the bottom with rocks?"
The man's actions made the youth instinctively close his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was softer, almost breathless:
"I've never been as lucky as I was today, hauling in nets so full of fish. Besides..."
His words were cut short as the burly man suddenly burst into loud laughter:
"Is it really all fish? I'll give you one more chance to say that. Haha..."
Startled, he snapped his eyes open, only to find that all the men were staring at him with mocking amusement. Flustered, he began to stammer, unable to form a proper sentence:
"It really... it really is..."
Just then, a sharp shout echoed up from the docks below:
"Did any boat here head upstream today?"
The shout drew the men's attention down toward the water. But before they could react, another shout rang out from the docks:
"None of these boats are hiding the man we're looking for. This is urgent, don't waste any more time! Everyone disperse and search everywhere for that old baldhead!"
By now, dusk had deepened, and night was about to fall. The men standing on the dock looked somewhat bewildered as they began calling down to the docks:
"Where do you come from? Do you know whose territory you have encroached upon? And why are you all masked and dressed in night-traveling attire, looking no different from a band of thieves?"
From down by the dock, two dark, blurry figures leaped up:
"So you are merely the lackeys of the Water Tyrant, a worthless pack of water bandits. Ending your lives will be doing a great service to the common people. Prepare to die!"
With the sudden appearance of a group of hostile night-travelers, the burly man, needing to deal with the enemy, quickly let him go:
"Xiao Gui, get out of here quickly. Consider yourself lucky this time, so don't throw your life away because of those slow, useless legs of yours."
He let out a sharp breath, turning on his heel to flee. At that moment, the two dark figures began their slaughter, leaving a trail of tragic screams behind him:
"You are... Ahhh...!"
Boom! Boom!
Urgh! Urgh!
"Prepare to die!"
Crash!!
Argh!!
Shaken by these developments, Xiao Gui ran even faster, immediately ducking into a low-slung shack that stood shoulder-to-shoulder with many others in a long row.
Suddenly, from an adjacent shack, a voice called out his name:
"Xiao Gui, don't be in such a hurry. Tell me quickly, what happened? Why are there so many screams?"
He skidded to a halt, and this time, when he spoke, his voice was laced with pure resentment:
"If you want to know, Miss, why don't you go see for yourself? Forgive me, but this servant must hurry to salt these two heavy baskets of fish to make today's batch of fish sauce on time."
With that, he vanished into the low, cramped shack. To his dismay, the voice—unmistakably female but always haughty and demanding—followed him inside:
"Wait! You cannot leave until you have answered this young mistress. Stop right there."
While it was only twilight outside, the interior of the low row of shacks was shrouded in pitch-black darkness. This allowed Xiao Gui to easily slip among the many large wooden barrels lined up side-by-side. But just as he began to empty his two heavy baskets into one of the barrels, a small hand reached out to stop him:
"Now I understand why you were in such a hurry. Your baskets don't just contain fish; they are filled with quite a few rocks. Is this how you repay my father's kindness for taking you in and raising you for seven long years?"
Though the girl's hand was small, it possessed more than enough strength to halt Xiao Gui's attempt to deceive her. This filled him with anxiety, leaving him at a loss for how to explain himself.
Suddenly, shouting erupted just outside the shack:
"Search quickly! The bald old man must be hiding around here. We also need to find the fellow who saved him."
At that moment, the flicker of a torchlight appeared. Though it only cast fleeting shadows across the rows of wooden barrels, it was enough for the young mistress questioning Xiao Gui to realize what was happening. Showing her anger, she immediately spoke up:
"Who are you..."
To their horror, the moment her voice rang out, the torch and the person holding it lunged forward with indescribable speed:
"Is it you useless water bandits again? It seems that to save your skins, you wouldn't even hesitate to crawl into a foul-smelling place like this to hide. Come out here, haha..."
Not daring to wait for the torchlight to draw closer, Xiao Gui immediately swung his arms, flinging the two heavy baskets in opposite directions. At the same time, he reached out, clamped his hand over the young mistress's mouth, and dragged her along as he vanished into the depths of the row of tightly packed wooden barrels.
Whoosh...
In one of the directions where the two heavy baskets had hurtled and collided, a masked figure in black immediately appeared, holding a blazing torch in hand. The figure in black swept a glinting gaze around, letting out a harsh laugh that seemed to hiss through tightly pressed, cruel lips:
"A commendable trick, this 'golden cicada shedding its skin.' But to me, it is mere child's play. Come out this instant, unless you want me to set this place ablaze and burn you, little wench, into a shriveled corpse."
But in response to the masked figure, there was only the silent void—a silence natural to a place used for storing wooden vats of fish sauce.
The figure in black barked in fury:
"If that is how you want it, I shall grant your wish, little wench."
With that shout, the figure in black suddenly lashed out. It was a light, seemingly casual strike, yet it carried enough force to shatter a large vat nearby.
Boom!!
A massive deluge of liquid immediately poured from the wooden vat, releasing the rancid, overpowering stench of thousands of fish that had been fermenting inside for at least several dozen days.
Splash...
This caught the figure in black completely off guard. Even though he leaped backward in a hurry, his night-traveling clothes were still splattered and soaked with some of the foul liquid from the shattered vat. Flying into a greater rage, he immediately raised his torch and thrust it against the thatched roof of the building. The thatch caught fire, erupting into flames that rapidly spread to all the surrounding structures, unleashing a conflagration the likes of which this region had never seen.
Whoosh... whoosh...
Blaze... blaze...
The flames soared high, generating a terrifying heat that dried out and burst the surrounding implements, regardless of what material they were made of. In the end, almost everything fell prey to the god of fire, fueling the inferno. Billowing black smoke spread in all directions, as if it would never fade.
Whoosh... whoosh...
Blaze... blaze...
Not only that, but as the outer layers of the wooden vats—though filled with water and fish sauce—dried and warped, cracks formed, allowing the liquid inside to drain out. When these vats in turn caught fire and burned, a heavy, scorched odor mingled with the stench of the rotten fish sauce, creating an utterly intolerable, putrid reek. Along with the thick black smoke rising and spreading, this foul stench drifted in every direction. Perhaps because of this, even the dock area caught fire, destroying the boats one by one, evoking a second Battle of Red Cliffs as flames blazed fiercely right upon the water's surface.
Witnessing this scene with her own eyes from her secure hiding place, the young mistress ground her teeth in resentment, whispering:
"Xiao Gui, how did you predict that those wicked people would set fire to all the boats?"
Hiding right beside her, Xiao Gui did not answer or explain. Instead, he remained silent, his gaze fixed intently on the horrific spectacle unfolding before them, with no end in sight. Finding this strange, the young mistress turned to look at him:
"Did you not hear my question? Or are you afraid to speak because those villains might still be lingering nearby and discover us?"
He turned slightly, meeting the young mistress's gaze:
"The fire has raged all night. Moreover, once they burned all the boats, it was time for those villains to retreat. Naturally, it cannot be said that I am keeping quiet out of fear of being discovered."
The young mistress stared at him, her eyes widening even further in surprise:
"Solely based on their act of burning the boats, you are certain the killers have retreated? If so, why do you still keep me hiding here beside you? There must be a reason, right?"
He replied slowly, as if reflecting as he spoke:
"They must have retreated. However, who can say for sure that they aren't covertly lying in ambush, watching from afar to easily spot any survivor who was lucky enough to escape and is now trying to flee? If you aren't afraid of losing your life, my lady, feel free to leave and see for yourself."
The young mistress let out a sigh:
"I cannot deny your reasoning. But how much longer do you think we must remain in hiding? For one, I am still sick with worry over my father's life. And second, my entire body reeks of stinking fish sauce. It might be fine for you, but I am a lady—how can I continue to endure this?"
He sneered and retorted bitterly:
"I am a human being just like you, my lady. Why do you say it is fine for me to endure this stench? If I had known this was how you felt, perhaps I made a mistake in dragging you along to hide inside a wooden barrel full of fish sauce to seek refuge?"
The young mistress let out another sigh:
"Are you implying that I should be grateful to you because my life was saved thanks to you? Even so, before I offer my thanks, answer me honestly. You know martial arts? Since when?"
He shrugged dismissively:
"There is no use interrogating me, my lady. You need only know that it is precisely because I know martial arts that you are still alive."
Startled and suspicious, she asked:
"So you are tacitly admitting that you have been secretly practicing martial arts for a long time? Which means all this time, you have been quietly plotting and will surely carry out some scheme against my father?"
He smiled faintly:
"The great kindness of your esteemed father, Shui Ba Wang, is something I always keep close to my heart, only hoping for the day I can repay it."
The young mistress was startled:
"You do not deny that you have always openly resented my father? Then your practicing of martial arts is only to seek revenge, not to repay his kindness, is it? Tell me, why do you hate my father? Do not forget, if not for the rice provided by my father, Shui Ba Wang, would you, Xiao Gui, even be alive today?"
He hissed:
"Watch your words, my lady. If you call me Xiao Gui ever again, remember this: the one who received your father's kindness was me, not Xiao Gui. Since Xiao Gui never received any kindness, he naturally has no need to repay it—if anything, he only seeks revenge."
The young mistress was startled once more:
"So it turns out you have always felt insecure because everyone mocked you as a cowardly turtle drawing its head into its shell? Then why have you never reacted all this time?"
He smiled faintly again:
"Would it have mattered, my lady, when from the moment I set foot here, I was despised by everyone? Not to mention, the very first person to start all of this was you."
She looked flustered:
"It was all just a joke. And back then, just like you, I was only seven or eight years old. I never expected you to take it to heart and harbor resentment all the way until today."
He sharply retorted:
"Are your words truly sincere, my lady? Besides, as I recall, your attitude initially stemmed from words that showed utter contempt for my mother. Of course, you were still innocent back then. So, was your disdainful attitude toward my mother put into your head by someone else? Was it your esteemed father? Or perhaps one of your elders? Tell me, why did this happen? My mother was just a weak and defenseless woman; why was she despised by everyone?"
Cornered by his relentless questioning, she began to fight back:
"So, what happened today to everyone around here, with you being the sole survivor, must have you gloating?"
He admitted it immediately:
"Indeed. And I would be even more satisfied to witness the day you, Young Mistress, also find yourself utterly helpless, left completely alone and solitary, with no one to rely on but yourself—just as I have had to endure for the past seven years."
She turned pale.
"How cruel of you! You dare curse my father and wish for him to be slaughtered by those murderers?"
He swept his gaze around.
"They are not only cruel; their martial skills are also exceptionally formidable. The tragedy unfolded last night, and now dawn has broken. Yet, as you can see, there is no one left around here—not even the reinforcements, the subordinates of your father, Shui Bawang, who should have arrived by now. Not a single soul is in sight. So there is no need for me to curse; everything has already played out exactly as it was bound to. In short, whether I am cruel or not, I fear your father's chances of survival at this point are grim."
Terrified, her face grew pale and distorted, and she suddenly shrieked:
"To have a heart like yours is truly heartless and ungrateful! Is it because you knew my father could not escape death that you deliberately saved my life? Was your malicious intent merely to push me into utter despair, so that the more miserable I am, the more satisfied you become? Isn't that right? Don't deny it! You made it all too clear just now. So do not ever expect me to be grateful to you for saving my life. On the contrary, I will hate you forever! You are an ungrateful wretch. Someone like you, born of a mother who sold her body to feed herself, is exactly as my father once said: showing kindness to you and your mother was like harboring a snake in one's bosom. And indeed it was! I hate you, Xiao Gui! I hate you!"
Now it was Xiao Gui's turn to turn pale, his face contorting with rage:
"What did you say? If you have the guts, say that again! What kind of person did you say my mother was? And besides, as I just warned you, how dare you still call me Xiao Gui? 'Gui' means turtle—are you insulting me, looking down on me as a cowardly turtle shrinking its neck?"
The young mistress showed no fear. Instead, with a defiance rarely seen in women, she shrieked fiercely:
"I am only speaking the truth! Your mother is nothing but a whore who sold her body. Where do you think she has been for the past seven or eight years? Let me tell you, once she abandoned you here, she returned to her old ways, she..."
He roared in a fury:
"Shut up! I don't believe a single word of your lies. If you say another word, do not blame me for being ruthless!"
She shouted even louder:
"Then what are you waiting for? Kill me! But let me tell you, even if I die, the truth will not change. If you don't believe me, go look for your mother. Go search for her, and then you will see whether what I said is true or false! Kill me! Or are you still just a cowardly turtle, only brave enough to talk but lacking the guts to act?"
The more he heard, the more his fury mounted. Yet, abruptly, he spun around and fled. Driven by blind rage, he ran at breakneck speed, heedless of the smoldering embers and intense heat rising from the ground beneath his feet. It was as if he were running solely to vent the wrath burning within him, fleeing blindly in no particular direction.