Chapter 1 Zhuangzi's Dream (Part 1): The Refugee and the Little White Dove

In the winter of the seventeenth year of the Tianxi reign, there was a heavy snowfall.

Before dawn, lanterns were lit and stalls were set up in front of Qiushuiju, a time-honored brand on Huanyang Street.

The misty white vapor escaped from the edge of the steamer and was quickly dispersed by the north wind.

Manager Liu, with his neck hunched and hands tucked in, looked at the shop assistants busy around the steamer baskets and asked, "Song San, are you really not keeping any?"

"I won't keep it, shopkeeper." The man didn't look up, but smiled and said, "Thank you for your hospitality. I've been eating very well these past few days. I'm afraid I won't be able to resist taking some cakes with me when I leave tomorrow."

The shopkeeper sighed silently, "If you like cakes, just take them."

Song San responded with a more lively tone, "Then I won't stand on ceremony."

Manager Liu smiled wryly: "Why are you being so polite with me? This is what you deserve."

Strangely enough, this young man, all alone and weary from his journey, arrived at his shop and, upon first meeting him, said he wanted to do odd jobs.

He looked very clever, but he didn't want a penny, only asking for three cakes a day.

They must be refugees, terrified of hunger.

Now, these refugees are going to wander off to other places.

Thinking of this, Manager Liu couldn't help but feel a little regretful. He was afraid he would never be able to find a waiter cheaper than Song San.

"Crunch—crunch—"

A sudden, abrupt noise came from the empty snowfield.

Manager Liu turned his head to look.

In the dead of winter, when it was still pitch black, a very imposing carriage, its hooves crunching through thick snow, came steadily towards the road. Before long, the carriage stopped in front of Qiushui Residence.

A man jumped off the carriage, trotted to the stall, threw a silver coin on the empty table, and urged, "Shopkeeper, one steamer of pork buns and one steamer of vegetable buns, to go."

Seemingly annoyed by the harsh winter wind, the man turned away hastily and hid back in the carriage before the waiter could reply.

Shopkeeper Liu was dazzled by the silver and let out a short exclamation. He picked up the silver ingot with trepidation and bowed in the direction the man had left, thanking him profusely: "Thank you, sir! Thank you, sir!"

This morning, right after we opened, we encountered a very wealthy customer. I imagine our business will be booming today!

Song San dared not delay, and quickly fetched the oil paper, opened the steamer and got to work.

He packed the buns into his clothes, then stepped into the snow, his feet sinking deep into the ground, and greeted the guests warmly, "Sir, the buns are ready."

The horses of wealthy and powerful families were well-bred and robust. Upon seeing Song San, they snorted a steaming snort from afar.

After this interruption, it's unclear whether the people inside heard it.

Song San took a few more steps forward, stood on tiptoe, and knocked on the side window of the carriage: "Sir, your steamed buns are ready."

As soon as he finished speaking, the curtain in front of him was lifted from the inside, and a hand reached out.

There was no oil lamp lit inside the carriage, and the pale hand seemed to have grown out of thin air, making one feel uneasy at the sight.

Song San hurriedly handed over the steamed buns, saying, "They're fresh out of the steamer, be careful they're hot." As he spoke, he untied the knot of the string and thoughtfully hung it on the white, scallion-like knuckle of Song San's index finger.

The weight of two steamers of buns is still quite heavy when measured on a single finger.

But the person didn't seem to react. The finger with the oil paper package hanging from it drooped down strangely and remained suspended in the air for a long time, as if hesitating.

Song San stood there, tugging at his sleeve.

Then, the curtain was lowered.

The driver drove forward, the wheels rolling and kicking up fine snowflakes that landed on Song Sanjiao, who couldn't dodge in time.

"Take care..." Song San stood in the snow watching the carriage leave, a slight smile playing on his lips.

There was not a trace of a smile in his dark eyes.

This was originally an ordinary little thing, but the moment of hesitation the person hesitated before lowering the curtain left a knot in her heart.

Perhaps it was just her imagination, she comforted herself.

I'm leaving tomorrow, so it's best not to cause any more trouble at this crucial juncture.

But things in this world don't always go as planned. In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the carriage turned around and headed towards her.

Song San inwardly cried out in alarm.

It can't be that the taste of the steamed buns is so amazing that people come back asking for the secret recipe, can it?

Without a second thought, she dropped the cloth in her hand, clutched her stomach, and grimaced, saying, "I can't take it anymore, my stomach really hurts, I can't hold it in any longer."

After saying that, he left the bewildered Manager Liu behind and ran into Qiushui Residence.

The shop had a back door leading to the tofu shop on South Street. The tofu shop was run by an elderly man in his eighties who was hard of hearing, so you had to speak loudly to him.

Song San had met him a few times and knew he was a warm-hearted person, so he went up to him and pleaded, "Uncle, can I hide here with you for a while?"

Whether the old man heard her clearly or not, he just nodded kindly at her, saying, "Okay, okay..."

Having finally obtained the shopkeeper's consent, Song Sanchong clasped his hands in greeting and bowed as he entered the house.

Her actions clearly indicated that she had something to hide. Those who didn't know the truth might mistake her for a thief, but Song San couldn't care less about that right now.

The dogs came looking for us, drawn by the scent.

-

The neighbors often visited each other and were very familiar with the terrain. Before long, Song San inside the house heard light footsteps outside the door, interspersed with a few laughs.

It was Manager Liu's voice.

He actually led the way for someone?

Song San's face darkened. Knowing that he could not stay here any longer, he did not hesitate any longer. He stepped onto a stool, pushed open the window, jumped down, and ran wildly along the path before it was fully light.

The north wind, carrying snowflakes, whizzed down the back of Song San's neck. He sniffed and caught a glimpse of a dark alleyway diagonally ahead.

This is a rather "undignified" place for storing swill, and ordinary people—anyone with a healthy nose—would not come here to make themselves uncomfortable.

A heavy snowfall masked some of the odor, but its lingering effects remained.

But it's a good place to hide.

Song San turned slightly and rushed in without hesitation. He covered his face and squatted down behind a basket, holding his breath and counting the time with difficulty.

She thought that if she was lucky, and the man couldn't find her and left first, she would go back to Qiushui Residence, take her savings, and set off ahead of time.

If luck is bad...

Pshaw, you shouldn't say such unlucky things!

As the sun rose higher and the world was illuminated, Song San rubbed his half-numb leg and strolled out of the alley.

She walked very slowly—mainly because she had been squatting for so long that her legs seemed to have lost all feeling, and she felt as if she were walking on clouds with every step.

He moved slowly like this, and finally, with half a toe out of the alley, he suddenly heard the whistling sound of a sharp weapon cutting through the air.

Song San cursed under his breath, and when he stood up again, he was covered in a cold sweat.

A short knife was held in front of her.

If that person hadn't held back, the knife would probably have split her head in two.

Why are you running?

She had heard that voice just this morning.

At that time, the other party was still very polite to her.

Song San numbly looked up and saw the man standing against the light, saying impatiently, "Come with me, my master wants to see you."

They really came for her.

Song San coldly pinched his knuckles.

Behind it was a filthy place where swill was piled up. If you got into a fight with someone, you would inevitably end up in a mess, and it would be a hassle to clean up.

As she was pondering, she suddenly caught a glimpse of the patterns on the short knife out of the corner of her eye, and couldn't help but exclaim in surprise.

This is a short knife that is quite old. The blade is sharp and gleams coldly, but upon closer inspection, one can see that the handle is engraved with dark patterns and intricate characters.

Song San tilted his head and saw that it was the character "顾" (Gu).

Then I recalled that the man had spoken with a local accent, and there was indeed a very famous Gu family not far from Huanyang Street.

This coincidence is quite different from her "old friend".

If they are not old acquaintances, then it can only be a misunderstanding?

Song San took a deep breath, his tense shoulders relaxed, and when he looked up again, his expression changed, and a smile appeared on his face: "Hero, spare my life, let's talk this out."

A flicker of disgust flashed in the man's eyes, and his hand gripping the knife involuntarily lowered.

Unsolicited kindness is always suspicious; there's no smoke without fire. This person, who had previously been wary, now adopted a fawning and ingratiating demeanor, clearly harboring a guilty conscience.

Recalling his master's instructions, he felt that this kid was probably not a good person, he was simply... like a cunning fox.

Thinking back to how Song San had left him behind like a dog on a leash, he felt a surge of anger. So he stopped talking, put a straight face on his face, and forced the man onto the carriage.

Song San had never seen such a domineering person before.

However, she dared not shout "forcibly abducting a woman" in the street. Firstly, she was now a man, and people might think she was crazy if she shouted it out. Secondly, since it was not an old friend looking for her, she had nothing to be afraid of.

Since they've come looking for her, they must be after her value.

In this way, she wouldn't need to hide.

-

Song San was almost blinded by the scenery inside the car.

Inlaid with gold and jewels, it was the epitome of extravagance. The young man in white sat there, like a little white dove that had landed in a jewel cave.

"Little White Dove" picked up the teacup on the low table and brought it to her lips. After hearing the noise, she didn't look to the side, appearing completely calm and collected.

Song San's nostrils twitched, and he couldn't help but sneeze.

The hand holding the cup trembled, and a pair of dark eyes finally looked over.

Song San chuckled awkwardly, "Sorry, did I scare you?"

She rubbed her nose, lifted her clothes, and sat down on the ground. "This fragrance is too strong."

Gu Shaoyang followed her gaze to the bronze crane incense burner on the table, subtly sniffed twice, and immediately became puzzled.

This is his usual fruity and woody scent, but he has never found it overly fragrant.

Is the smell strong?

He put down his teacup, cleared his throat, and said, "I am Gu Shaoyang, the second young master of the Gu family of Tianshui."

He paused, seemingly observing Song San's reaction. Seeing Song San hunched over, looking nonchalant, he felt somewhat discouraged.

Outsiders probably don't understand the Tianshui family's history.

Thinking back to how Song San had avoided him before, he became even more undecided.

Seeing him in a daze, seemingly caught in some indescribable emotion, Song San simply cut to the chase: "Young master, did you kidnap me to ask me something?"

She deliberately emphasized the word "abduct," asking, "But the steamed buns don't suit your taste?"

After saying that, her gaze fell on the oil paper package beside the man, and she couldn't help but click her tongue, "Look at my eyesight, so the young master hasn't opened this oil paper package yet."

She laughed and said, "Then it has nothing to do with steamed buns."

Before Gu Shaoyang could say anything, he blushed and said, "I want to ask you to save someone for me."

Song San blinked: "That's strange. I'm just a handyman, not a doctor. How can I save someone for you?"

She added, "If you're sick, go to the clinic."

Gu Shaoyang didn't rush to refute, but patiently said, "I wonder if you've ever heard this story before."

Song San rested his chin on his hand, signaling the other person to continue.

Gu Shaoyang: "The world is in chaos, and wars are constant, which angers the heavens and sends down the Tai Sui god. From then on, evil spirits are born and bring disaster to the world."

Song San leaned back as if his bones had been removed, becoming even lazier and more unruly: "Never heard of it, must be some new storybook."

Gu Shaoyang shook his head, his gaze falling on Song San's face: "The Tianji Sect was born out of necessity. Its disciples learn demon-slaying techniques to uphold justice and eliminate evil spirits."

“And each disciple in the sect has such a golden seal on the inside of their wrist.” He condescended to leave the soft couch, and knelt down on one knee. “It is shaped like Mount Xi, and can ward off Tai Sui.”

He grabbed Song San's wrist, making a pointed remark, "People at the time called it—the Heavenly Secret Seal."

A note from the author:

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