SS CH27

Wild grass grows long or short upon the graves; there are bandits in the wilderness inn.

Gu Xiao felt that in his entire life, his master had probably only ever said one honest-to-god truth.

He had been down the mountain for half a year now. From the initial feeling of being overwhelmed by the dazzling, kaleidoscopic world, he had progressed to the realization that the so-called Jianghu was nothing but a pot of thick, mixed-up paste. Sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, astringent—everything was dumped into it. The nonsensical tales of love and hate came rushing at him like a storm of blood and gore, leaving him so disoriented he couldn’t even tell north from south.

On a mountain path, he had saved a young maiden and a small daughter-in-law from bandits, only to be frightened into running for his life by a promise of “marrying oneself to one’s savior.” He had gone to some Black Wind Stronghold or Tiger Cave to punish evil, brawling with green-forest heroes decorated with “Green Dragons and White Tigers” on their shoulders. After traversing poor mountains and treacherous waters, and enjoying a few days of carefree leisure, he had been chased by some ragtag bunch of nobodies demanding he join their gang simply because he had disciplined a few local hooligans on the street.

Why are people so complicated?

Gu Xiao kicked a lackey who had been trying to persuade him to join a gang sprawling onto the ground, then picked up a handkerchief thrown by a woman, folded it neatly, and placed it on a flower branch for its owner to retrieve. He then bit into a hard, dry bun, vaulted onto his horse, and vanished in a cloud of dust.

The sword on his back had been bought by Gu Qifang for three taels of silver at a blacksmith shop at the foot of the mountain. Its style was ordinary, not particularly sharp, but his shiniang had tied a black silk ribbon to the hilt, ending in a crudely polished jade ring. Gu Xiao always felt this was his shiniang’s “life-saving money”—if his funds ever ran dry, he could pawn it for two meals to avoid starving on the street.

Gu Xiao lay lazily across the horse’s back. The horse was old and could not run fast, but it was obedient and knew to plod along slowly without needing a whip.

Since coming down the mountain, he had no relatives to look after and no specific destination. He let himself drift among the three mountains and four seas according to his whims, stopping wherever he arrived. If he encountered something good, he took it as a joy; if he provoked disaster, he took it as a lesson.

It was autumn. The fallen leaves were bleak, and the already desolate wild roads had even fewer travelers. Several nameless, neglected graves stood by the roadside, overgrown with weeds, occasionally accompanied by the chirping of evening insects. It wasn’t pleasant; it only added a sense of gloom.

Gu Xiao jumped down, fed the remaining half of his lunch bun to the horse, and then turned his head to look at the desolate wilderness inn that appeared even more eerie and treacherous in the night.

In this remote wilderness, miles from any village, stood this single inn. It looked like a den of thieves no matter how one appraised it: three stories high, walls plastered with yellow mud, a roof covered in thatch, and a rotting gate covered in new and old wooden planks like a patch job. The candlelight inside the two paper lanterns at the door flickered, making the red-painted characters “Tiancheng Inn” look like blood-smeared words for “People Become Corpses.”

For the living to enter and become corpses—if one said this wasn’t a place for slaughter and robbery, even a ghost wouldn’t believe it.

Gu Xiao looked at the sky; a cold wind rose and dark clouds gathered. He reckoned it was about to rain. He didn’t plan to sleep in the wild and turn into a drowned rat, so he leisurely led his horse over and knocked on the door.

“Coming! Welcome, guest!”

A crisp, inviting shout sounded. The rickety door was pulled open, revealing a face full of bloated, rough flesh. Gu Xiao glanced at it once and turned away, thinking this person didn’t look like an attendant, but more like a butcher.

“Feed the horse for me. Get me a room, and bring some hot food.”

He tossed over a piece of silver. The attendant weighed it in his hand, his smile becoming more genuine. He led the horse with one hand and gestured inward with the other. “Right away! You go inside and rest for a moment!”

Gu Xiao crossed the threshold. The main hall was quite brightly lit. To the left, a tattered curtain blocked off the backyard, and to the right, the tables and chairs were neatly arranged but extremely old, covered in grease stains that wouldn’t come off, looking quite unappetizing.

The attendant took the horse to the back. Gu Xiao swept a glance; three hulking workers were cleaning up leftovers from a table, but there were no other guests to be seen.

Behind the counter at the front stood the proprietress, a woman of about thirty, wearing heavy makeup and flashy clothes. She didn’t look particularly old, but she also didn’t look like a respectable woman. When she saw Gu Xiao come in, her eyes lit up. She walked out from behind the counter, holding a brush in one hand and a wine pot in the other. She laughed, “Oh my, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a handsome guest. It’s cold today, how about a cup of wine to warm your body?”

“Many thanks, Proprieties.” Gu Xiao took the wine cup and downed it in one gulp, using his sleeve to cover the action as he poured the wine into his shirt. Fortunately, he was wearing black, so nothing looked out of place.

He smiled at the proprietress and set the wine cup gently onto the counter. The bottom of the cup embedded itself into the wood, yet the surrounding wood didn’t crack, as if the cup had always grown there.

“This one doesn’t know his own strength. Consider this silver as payment for a new table.” Gu Xiao didn’t intend to cause trouble, nor did he want to be troubled, so he made his stance clear from the start. Unless someone’s brain had been raked by a harrow, they wouldn’t do anything stupid.

The proprietress looked at the cup embedded in the counter, her smile freezing. After a long while, her lips twitched as she managed to force a smirk. Weighing the silver, she replied apologetically, “You’re too polite. This silver is enough to cover not just a new table, but your food and lodging for tonight. Please.”

Gu Xiao nodded and stepped toward the second floor. The proprietress signaled for someone to bring up a tray. There was a bowl of hot soup, a plate of cooked meat, and two buckwheat buns. It wasn’t refined, but the portion was generous.

Perhaps because of the proprietress’s orders, the attendant who followed up didn’t dare to overstep. He set down the food and slipped away. Gu Xiao inspected the room. Apart from a bed, a table, and a bathtub, there was nothing else, and the bedding emitted a musty, damp smell.

He shook his head, sat down at the table, wrapped some meat in a bun, and ate it with the hot soup. Outside the window, the sound of light, pattering rain gradually grew. An autumn rain brings a chill, and seeing the raindrops being swept into the room by the cold wind, he got up to close the window.

Unexpectedly, just as his hand touched the latch, the low-quality wood couldn’t block the commotion. From downstairs came a cacophony of tables and chairs overturning, mingled with the attendant’s curses and a child’s crying.

He frowned. Originally, he didn’t intend to meddle in others’ business, but hearing the noise grow louder and the child howling like a slaughtered pig, he couldn’t help himself. He grabbed his sword and went downstairs.

Downstairs, the attendant was cursing as he kicked a small child to the ground. It was a boy of seven or eight, white and chubby, just like the New Year painting dolls worshiped by the common folk. He wore silk clothing, clearly from a wealthy family, but now he was covered in dirt and tears, and having been kicked several times, he rolled like a gourd right to Gu Xiao’s feet. A perfectly good phoenix egg, now looking no better than a rotten one.

The proprietress and the attendant didn’t want to provoke him, so when they saw Gu Xiao come down, they hastily pulled back their hands and feet. The child, however, was sharp; he seized the opportunity to hug Gu Xiao’s leg, smearing snot and tears onto his pant leg, and screamed loudly, “Help! They are running a black-hearted shop! Save me!”

Gu Xiao struggled twice, but the kid was as heavy as a weight and held onto his leg with hands and feet, nearly pulling his pants down. Helpless, Gu Xiao gripped his belt with one hand and braced his sword against the ground with the other, peering down with droopy eyes: “What is going on here?”

“…Oh my, did this dead child disturb you, dear guest? My apologies.” The proprietress paused, but quickly regained her composure. “This is my son. His father passed early, and I, as a widow, haven’t taught him well. He caused some trouble, so I was just trying to discipline him. I didn’t expect to disturb you.”

“Liar! You’re lying!” The child was small, but his courage was immense. He let go of Gu Xiao’s leg and jumped nearly three feet high, his childish voice possessing a surprising amount of authority: “None of you are good people!”

Gu Xiao raised an eyebrow. The staff’s expressions turned ugly. The proprietress curled her lips: “They say even an honest official cannot settle family affairs. Surely, you don’t intend to intervene in a widow disciplining her son?”

“Lady, with your charm, how could you give birth to such a meatball?” Gu Xiao laughed. With one hand, he grabbed the boy by his collar and lifted him up. “We’re all people wandering the Jianghu; let’s speak plainly. This child has nothing to do with me, and I certainly have no need to meddle.”

Hearing this, the child began to struggle frantically in his grasp. The proprietress’s expression eased. “The guest is a reasonable man. Since that is the case, it is getting late, please go get some rest.”

“Wait a moment, I’m hungry.” Gu Xiao tightened his grip on the child. Without waiting for the proprietress to speak, he continued, “I don’t like eating that spoiled livestock. Since there is fresh meat here, I ask the proprietress to cook something up. I will pay extra.”

The attendant and the workers turned pale. The proprietress looked between him and the child, hesitating. “What the guest means is… I won’t lie to you, while our inn is a ‘black shop’ that kills for money, but human meat…”

“Running a black shop and you don’t even know how to prepare human meat? If word got out, people would laugh their heads off,” Gu Xiao sneered. The fat doll in his hand seemed stunned, only now reacting, squirming desperately like a maggot, but unable to escape his iron grip. He finally began to wail loudly.

The proprietress looked at him with shock and uncertainty. “This… we captured this child because we saw he had some family wealth and intended to blackmail them for silver. But the child is stubborn, refused to speak, and accidentally escaped. However, cooking human meat…”

“Heh, looking at this child’s clothing, you should know his family is either wealthy or noble. Maybe you won’t get the money, but instead invite disaster. Wouldn’t it be cleaner to earn a little money and destroy the evidence?” Gu Xiao shook his head and waved two silver ingots in front of her. “Make this child into a dish for me, and twenty taels of silver are yours.”

Twenty taels of silver was enough for a common family to live on for several years. The proprietress bit her lip in hesitation, then finally made up her mind. “Fine. But our cook has never prepared human meat, this…”

“Then lend me the kitchen. I’ll do it myself.” Gu Xiao said, dragging the child toward the backyard. Looking at the boy kicking in his hand, he asked casually, “Little one, what’s your name? Otherwise, I won’t know what to call the dish I’m making.”

The child was crying so hard he was gasping for air, hiccups punctuating his sobs: “Y-you, hic! Bad, hic!”

“Men aren’t loved if they aren’t ‘bad’, what would a brat like you know?” Gu Xiao stroked his chin, kicked open the kitchen door, tossed the boy onto the dusty floor, picked up a kitchen knife, and asked kindly, “How does red-braised sound? Oh, right, if you don’t tell me your name, I’m just going to call you ‘Red-Braised Meatball’.”

“You! Wah—” The child threw himself on the floor, weeping, “I… my name is Chu Yao! D-don’t… don’t eat me!”