Chapter 17 I Want You
Just as Tong'er had said inside the house, the peddler's home was in a village spontaneously formed by individual households. The three of them walked slowly along the way, and as they got a little closer, they could smell the aroma of wine brewed from coarse grains.
At that time, people didn't know how to use distillation techniques to brew wine; they simply fermented coarse grains. If the time and temperature weren't controlled properly, the wine would often turn into grain vinegar due to over-fermentation.
The closer you smell it, the more you can detect a crisp, sour scent.
This made the girl swallow hard.
"Feeling hungry?"
Nezha glanced over and teased.
No...it seems a little bit.
Ping Yu retorted in a low voice, but changed his mind the moment the words left his mouth.
She was in a rush this morning and only ate one boiled egg! Nezha hadn't mentioned it, but now that it's been brought up, Pingyu really feels a craving: "It smells so fragrant and sour here, it's really appetizing."
Nezha and Jinzha were both cultivators and didn't have much need for food. The peddler overheard their conversation, turned around, smiled, and comforted them, "My home is just ahead. I'll steam rice for you when we get back."
First, offer a small token of gratitude, like a grain of rice, to give the mother and her two children something to cling to. Then, provide them with a good meal to solidify their loyalty. When people are in danger, their lives are at their most vulnerable. Even if someone merely offers a token helping hand, the other person will be eternally grateful, wishing they could burn incense and make offerings.
As soon as the peddler finished speaking, Ping Yu heard a cold snort coming from his chest.
"It's changed."
After snorting, Tong'er gritted her teeth and said, "My family used to live in a thatched hut. It seems he has earned a lot of copper and silver these days."
Pingyu tucked the handkerchief back into his clothes and whispered to the two of them, "You can't do this, someone will find out." After speaking, the girl also looked towards the house not far away.
The layout of villages is often more strictly defined than that of areas within the Great Wall. Commoners sometimes outwardly fawn over the powerful and despise the weak, valuing feng shui and reputation; every dwelling's location has its reason. For example, the only stone house Pingyu had just seen in the village was built against the mountain. A mountain behind the house is considered auspicious, protecting the home and ensuring peace—a truly excellent feng shui location. The peddler's house was located at the very back of the village; further in, most houses were thatched huts, inhabited by the powerless, the destitute, and without relatives. However, among these thatched huts, only one mud-brick house stood out remarkably, exuding grandeur.
It's clear that they made their fortune later.
"My home is right here," the peddler said, stopping in his tracks and introducing himself to the mother and her two children behind him.
Nezha and Jinzha both raised their eyebrows the moment they saw the layout outside the house.
In front of its gate stands a giant tree with lush branches and leaves.
Ancient trees reach for the sky, their lush greenery blocking out the sun.
More importantly, in the deepest shade under the tree, there was a Dharma altar set up.
There was no incense or statue, just a wooden table standing there.
The altar in front of the door is meant to entangle the women inside the house with evil spirits.
"What's wrong?"
The footsteps behind him suddenly stopped. The peddler saw the woman and boy stop and followed their gaze.
This is bad; he narrowed his eyes.
Because the court was currently obsessed with ghosts and spirits, every household had altars for gods and practiced divination. Among the exiled people, quite a few knew something of the supernatural. Could it be that this mother and son had sensed something amiss?
If that's the case...
The peddler twisted his hand behind his back, as if grabbing something: he had originally planned to wait until midnight to kill the man, but if he couldn't wait that time, it wasn't impossible to strike earlier.
Jinzha and Nezha, as if sensing the peddler's thoughts, averted their gazes. The woman hesitated for a moment, then finally said softly, "Master, the altar is covered in dust. The gods love cleanliness, and I'm afraid they'll be angry to see such a thick layer of dust. It would be such a shame if such a kind-hearted person were punished for this... Would you like me to clean it?"
She changed her address quickly, naturally using the honorific, as if she had accepted her new identity well. The peddler hadn't expected her to think this way; the fierce look in his eyes vanished, replaced by a friendly smile: "My wife has been seriously ill for many days, bedridden and unable to get out of bed. As a man, I'm truly helpless when it comes to dealing with the clutter in the house. Cleaning up is of course necessary, but let's talk about it after dinner."
He pressed his palm against the door and pushed it open.
Pingyu always stayed between Nezha and Jinzha.
She watched the peddler's movements and realized that the door was also wrong.
Unlike the two straight doors of a typical house, its front door is crooked and twisted, with the closed door gap forming a diagonal line.
The door creaked open.
After the girl followed the two through the door, she missed a step. She let out a short "Ah!" and fell straight forward. Fortunately, Nezha reacted quickly and grabbed her arm to steady her just before she hit the ground face-first.
Pingyu used the opponent's strength and in the end only staggered a few steps.
"Little sister, how come you can't even walk anymore?"
Nezha scolded her with a stern face, but his hand pulled the girl's arm behind her, gesturing for her to look back.
The peddler's house had no threshold.
She had a lot of questions to ask Nezha and Jinzha, but she knew now was not the time to talk. The girl could only pat the tattered cloth on her body and stand up straight again.
Nezha held onto Pingyu's wrist tightly, and the girl could feel his fingers moving like snakes, finally tightening around her and pulling her into his palm.
"what?"
Nezha's palms were burning hot, a stark contrast to her perpetually cold hands, like a fire melting ice. The weather was also humid, and soon fine droplets of water seeped from his fingers and palms, sticky and slippery on her skin. The girl shook her head twice, but couldn't break free. This time, however, Nezha showed no sign of playing a trick; he turned his head, his face serious.
She stopped struggling and heard the other person say, "This isn't right."
It was still early in the day, but it was as if a piece of night had been cut away and hidden behind the door.
After passing through the barrier-free door, you officially enter the interior.
The foundation of the central hall was square, and there were no tables and chairs for entertaining guests inside, only a wide and long desk.
There were nine porcelain plates on it, containing fruits, snacks, and meat. The largest plate contained a bright red carp.
Dead fish have bulging eyes. Like waterlogged sheep intestines, they seem poised to burst with wet, salty liquid. The fish used in sacrifices are always alive, left here to die. They haven't been scaled or gutted. Their bodies are covered in orange-red roe, coated with the oil from their corpses, making them multicolored and glistening.
One fish roe after another, hundreds and thousands of them, each one plump and full.
If one didn't know what the peddler was doing, others might have thought he was making offerings to the gods to pray for a child.
Pingyu dared not look at inanimate objects.
She looked away and pressed her hand to her wildly beating heart.
It is carved in the shape of a woman, holding a child in her arms, with a feathered robe draped over her shoulders.
Pingyu, however, was captivated by the incense and stared intently at the statue on the table, forgetting the presence of the person beside him.
The incense in the burner burned shorter and shorter, while the milky smoke grew thicker and thicker. Like spilled milk, it rushed towards the statue, becoming like a thousand hands reaching out from behind the Bodhisattva, gently parting the lips etched on the goddess's face:
I want you.
Pingyu heard the sound.
Her soft, sweet voice made her feel weak and limp all over.
I want you.
When the second sound rang out, the statue, as tender as a piece of tofu, was easily sliced open by the smoke.
The bud inside slowly grew, eventually extending into a long, sharp beak. It was as sharp as a knife, with barbed fangs. Opening its mouth, it revealed a human tongue and teeth. It chewed on words, the words it wanted to say frothing in its mouth, then being vomited out like cotton wool:
"want to……"
"you."
The voice suddenly changed, becoming a rough male voice.
Everything flashed backward, collapsing into a hairy mole on a man's face.
Pingyu seemed to be jolted awake, his whole body convulsing uncontrollably for a moment.
My gaze returned, and a square face was right in front of me.
The peddler's face.
He pointed at Ping Yu, as if calling out a sign from the King of Hell:
"Come to the kitchen and help me cook."
A note from the author:
Everyone, doesn't the pacing feel a bit slow? [starry eyes][starry eyes][starry eyes]
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