Chapter 16. There's no acting involved, just pure emotion. ...
The peddler first took them to buy rice and fetch water.
Once all the supplies were ready, he said to the two of them in a kind tone, "Alright, now go and take me to see your mother!"
Pingyu and Nezha exchanged a glance, then nodded in unison: "Okay!"
They led the peddler to a secluded area.
The place was littered with rotten wood and garbage, and the air was thick with a pungent stench. The peddler couldn't help but cover his nose and hold his breath, afraid of being overwhelmed by the swamp gas. He followed behind the two men, appearing relaxed, but actually quite wary.
After all, the peddler wasn't a truly kind person, and he naturally knew that many people nowadays use children as bait to deceive and rob people out of their kindness.
Although the previous play seemed somewhat realistic to him, he couldn't rule out the possibility that it was a conspiracy between children and adults. It wasn't until Pingyu and Nezha stopped that the peddler realized he had been led to a thatched hut. The thatch on the roof had been blown off by the wind... A few days ago, a sudden rainstorm hit Chentang Pass, leaving the exposed beams soaked in water and moldy.
Pingyu and Nezha breathed a sigh of relief without making it obvious that there were people inside.
Great, I made it in time.
Seeing this, the peddler felt a little more at ease:
Great, it's not a honey trap!
The four people were divided into two camps, each with their own concerns.
The next second, both the peddler and Ping Yu felt a gust of wind pass by them.
The child is very small, but speaks very loudly.
They lack acting skills and rely entirely on emotion.
Heaven knows how much willpower Jinzha used to control himself from suddenly attacking this little rascal. The peddler was startled and instinctively turned around to see the girl beside him's reaction.
She covered her face with her hands, her shoulders trembling, and kept mumbling incoherently, "That's great, that's great..."
Actually, I was laughing so hard I almost passed out.
Ping Yu really thinks Nezha had a lot of fun.
The peddler cleared his throat and took a step forward. Unlike the emaciated woman, the peddler's short, stocky figure appeared somewhat imposing in comparison. Jinzha's eyelids trembled as he looked up at the peddler's square face. He stammered, "Thank you... for saving me, brother."
The peddler placed a small handful of uncooked rice down, then added a clay pot filled with water. The man smiled at Jinzha and said generously, "It was nothing, ma'am, please eat!"
Jinzha looked at the rice in front of him, the number of grains of which was so clear that he could count them at a glance, and was utterly speechless: He put on a brave face, but was actually stingier than a miser.
I thought they'd given away millions of bushels of rice with a wave of their hand, but this is so little that even ants wouldn't bother carrying it.
But to maintain his persona, Jinzha hurriedly stuffed the rice grains into his mouth. However, he paused before putting them in his mouth. He divided the already meager amount of rice into two portions, handing one to Pingyu and the other to Nezha.
"Eat, children."
The woman's voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz, yet it deeply moved the two children.
Jinzha was a loving mother!
The peddler stood aside without saying a word.
He had previously sacrificed his own flesh and blood to refine the wine vessel, but the final product was flawed. That night, the deity appeared to him in a dream, saying that the closer the bond between mother and child, the more mellow the wine would be. It was only because his wife and children were karmic partners that the karmic retribution was so swift, to the point that even the wine vessel sealed with secret techniques could not withstand it.
Fortunately, within a few days, he gave the wine cup to the notorious youngest son of the general's mansion. Presumably, given the other party's intolerant nature towards demons, those two useless things in the cup must have been annihilated long ago! That way, even if Heaven wanted to cause trouble, it wouldn't find him; at most, it would make Nezha, the scapegoat, take the blame.
But now that the wine cups are gone, the peddler can no longer report back to the powerful and wealthy.
The wealth and luxury of the past flowed away like water, drying up in the brothels and pleasure quarters in an instant.
The peddler, whose hands were already stained with so much blood, had no desire to return to the life of brewing inferior wine and barely surviving on a few copper coins.
He had been troubled for days, but unexpectedly, good things came knocking on his door today.
The peddler thought that he would be able to use this to return to his peak... no, even climb to the top of an even higher building!
Thus, the man's smile became more genuine. His square face resembled a guillotine used to behead people. He said to Jinzha, "Your two children were previously in the hands of slave traders, but I've already bought them. Seeing their filial piety, I couldn't bear to see the three of you suffer the pain of separation from your loved ones. Why don't you, my lady, come and work for my family with these two children?"
“This…” Jinzha hesitated.
The peddler pressed his advantage, continuing, "My family runs a winery. While we're not rich, we can easily support two children and a wife. If you don't agree, I'll have to leave with the two children. After all, I bought them... Or perhaps you don't want to return the money?"
She couldn't possibly repay the silver, and the woman, who was Jinzha in disguise, wore a conflicted expression. Evil people are always cunning; if he agreed immediately, it might arouse suspicion. Even a destitute person wouldn't easily become a slave unless truly desperate. Her expression shifted several times, allowing the peddler to sense the complex emotions swirling within her.
Finally, seeing the woman's eyes lowered, the peddler was absolutely certain of success.
Jinzha took a deep breath and stammered, "Then, thank you very much for the meal."
After he finished speaking, he felt a sense of relief wash over him.
Regardless of his identity, as long as he can enter the other party's home, Pingyu's plan will be half successful.
Not only must the demon worshipped by the man, who treats human life so lightly, be exterminated, but the man's evil deeds must also be exposed to the public to clear Nezha's name. These numerous tasks are interconnected, and completing them smoothly will be no easy feat. Jinzha pressed his temples; before considering those matters, there was one more thing he absolutely had to do, something that had to be accomplished now. So Jinzha looked up again and said to the peddler, "Then, could you please bring my son along and wait outside for a while? My young daughter and I have some things to discuss between women."
Jinzha had completely stopped caring about his gender. Indeed, once one lets go of their obsessions, human understanding of their own gender becomes blurred. The peddler, who had initially assumed the mother and her two children had something to discuss, was just beginning to be wary when he learned that they had even sent their eldest son away.
Since it was a private conversation between women, men really shouldn't have eavesdropped.
"It doesn't matter how much time it takes," he replied, and then led Nezha, whose face had clearly turned sour, outside.
Jinzha looked towards the window where the paste had been removed, and seeing that the two had indeed gone far away, he beckoned Pingyu over.
The girl obediently walked over and asked curiously, "Young Master, is there anything that even Nezha can't listen to?"
“If he’s here, the peddler might think we’re plotting something. It’s none of his business, so we’d better let him come out with us and put the peddler’s mind at ease.”
Jinzha swept his fingers across his throat, and the woman's voice returned to its original refined, youthful tone. Pingyu watched as he reached into his robes, and then a thin sheet of yellow paper appeared between the young man's fingers.
"Pingyu." He handed over the paper: "Take this."
"This is Muzha's teleportation talisman."
Jinzha explained, “After entering the thief’s house, we will inevitably have to fight the demon. I don’t know what level the demon has cultivated to, or whether Nezha and I can easily deal with it. If it has become a powerful demon, we may not be able to take care of you while we are fighting it. If you encounter danger, just find a place to stick this talisman on and shout, ‘Muzha, come quickly!’”
"This is forced teleportation; no matter where he is or what he's doing, we'll arrive immediately."
A note from the author:
Muzha, who was practicing: felt a chill down his back.
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