Can’t we just enjoy a piece of sweet cake properly?
When you’re out and about, it’s rare to have smooth sailing.
Even seasoned travelers encounter the unexpected.
The caravan members, looking at the tightly shut city gates, then glanced towards the still not completely set sun, wringing their hands in frustration.
——The city gates closed early, they hurried all the way, but still failed to enter the city.
Although the city gates open and close at fixed times each day, it’s quite normal to be a bit early or late, especially in the county towns under provincial governance, where the gatekeepers might slack off and the common folks have nowhere to complain.
No shelters or houses are allowed near the city walls, and there are few trees, mainly a protective moat and ditches.
This year, the rainfall in Yuzhou was sufficient, the fields lush and green, the moat filled with water, though turbid. Finding a sheltered place nearby to spend the night was clearly impractical, not only did people need to sleep, but the mules and horses also needed to drink and rest.
The leaders of the caravan conferred with the armed escorts, deciding to try their luck in a village a dozen or so miles away.
It wasn’t just their caravan that was turned away at the city gates; Meng Qi and the others missed their chance as well.
Mo Li had no plans to climb the wall either.
——Climbing the wall is easy, but what about the horses and carts? Just leave them outside?
Mo Li checked the provisions he was carrying and found a packet of roasted chestnuts, a packet of sweet cake, and four hard rolls.
The chestnuts and sweet cake were bought yesterday in a larger town, and the flavor was far inferior to those in Taijing. But for Meng Qi, having something was better than nothing; why be picky?
The pastries they brought from Taijing were eaten up long ago, better to eat them early than let them spoil, Meng Qi reasoned. Let’s not mention how he was stuffing them into Mo Li’s hands and mouth all the while.
Even now, when Meng Qi saw Mo Li taking out the provisions, he couldn’t help but grab two pieces of sweet cake, and then they each had a piece.
“Too sweet.” Mo Li refused.
There are several types of sugar, the confectioneries in the capital use fine granulated sugar, which is smooth and evenly textured, then there’s malt sugar, but the small towns in the countryside don’t have such good sugar, it’s full of impurities, making the pastry fillings hard and overly sweet, necessitating a drink of water afterward.
Although they had enough dry food, they were running low on water.
Mo Li, though he considered himself a fish, didn’t drink raw water, for no particular reason, just as Mr. Qin had taught by word and example. Centuries ago, many medical texts and renowned doctors knew that some diseases came from raw water.
The poor families mostly used firewood for cooking, drinking well or river water directly, and if they had to boil all the water they used, the cost of firewood would immediately double, even for those who chopped their own wood, it was a heavy burden.
So knowing this didn’t help; if the people had no money, they would keep drinking raw water, and if an epidemic broke out, the impact would be startling.
But over the centuries, the imperial governments were not just idle; now, larger provincial towns have “water shops” that sell hot water, and there are vendors carrying it in yokes selling it in the streets and alleys. The common folk have also gotten into the habit of buying water, which saves money and effort compared to boiling it themselves; they buy it as they need it. For the very poor, they can go to a tea stall where the coarsest tea costs one coin per large bowl, quenching thirst and keeping it clean.
Now, in this place, there are no shops, and not even enough wood to make a fire, Mo Li thinks Meng Qi should just eat the sweet cake himself.
It’s quite a skill to eat something so sweet without needing water; just whether this advantage is inherent to his dragon lineage, or is it specific to martial arts masters?
Mo Li couldn’t figure it out, because he was both, yet he still didn’t have this kind of talent.
Perhaps this is the difference between a fish and a fat mouse.
“Indeed not as good as the ones from the capital. By the way, which shop in the capital do you like best for sweet cakes?” Meng Qi listed seven or eight names in one breath, all places from which he had bought before.
Mo Li blankly wondered, sweet cakes from so many different shops? He seemed to only discern two flavors: one of osmanthus sugar and one of rose sauce.
“The flour is different, so the texture varies.”
“…Is that so?”
Seeing Mo Li’s puzzled expression, Meng Qi silently swallowed the words he had not spoken.
He originally wanted to tell Mo Li about how the sweet cakes from Taijing were truly delicious, that even if you traveled the world and tasted everything from north to south, you would still need to return to Taijing to experience that flavor. What a great way to subtly lead someone back! The doctor was planning to return to Zhushan County in Pingzhou, but they could still pass through Taijing, right?
But he couldn’t continue his train of thought, and Meng Qi resignedly chewed on his sweet cake.
“Eat less of it.” Mo Li couldn’t help but wonder, what would a dragon with all rotten teeth look like?
It was only an imagination; such a sight was basically unseeable.
The true form of a dragon is a manifestation of spiritual energy. If there is a lack of spiritual energy, the dragon might appear listless, its scales dull and eyes lifeless, perhaps even with broken horns and an incomplete form. It wouldn’t just be missing some teeth.
The carriage jolted along, and it was getting dark; the mules and horses in the caravan seemed restless.
Because they hadn’t been fed in time, the pace of Mo Li’s carriage also slowed down, the horse pulling the cart kept shaking its head, as if trying to turn back and urge the people inside.
“Dingling ling.”
A faint sound of bells carried on the wind, and at first, Mo Li didn’t pay attention. He stopped the cart to look for the bean fodder used for feeding horses. Horses are like children; they love to eat, drink, and play, and if you feed them well and then give them poor fodder, they will not accept it.
These bean fodders, mainly portable bean cakes, are also used to reward the horses during training, encouraging them to follow a straight path and diligently pull the cart, rather than always trying to frolic in the fields.
The sound of bells gradually grew louder, mixed with the varying shouts of people. Mo Li looked up, puzzled.
The caravan was moving slower than them, and the armed escorts along with the caravan hands were pulling the mules and horses forward, hoping to reach the next resting place sooner.
At that moment, several horses raced past them; it was that young man who had struck up a conversation with Mo Li on the road, apparently planning to ride ahead to scout. He was followed by three men dressed as family retainers, clearly his own men, distinct in attire from the armed escorts and caravan hands.
The young man, seeing Meng Qi’s figure, was surprised; he hadn’t realized there was another person in this carriage.
But it was dark, and Meng Qi had his back to them, his face completely obscured.
“Damn!” An armed escort cursed loudly from behind.
A cargo cart’s wheel had sunk into a pothole.
The hole wasn’t very large at first, but their cargo was heavy, and in the darkness, the people pushing the cart didn’t see it, causing them to fall into it. Panic set in among them as they hurriedly tried to push the cart out, only to make the hole even larger.
“Dingling clang clang…”
Meng Qi listened to the noise and wondered, “Could there also be corpse walkers deceiving people here?”
Traveling by night with only the sound of bells, and no firelight is indeed unusual, and it’s not like they’re outside the protective boundaries where camel bells would be heard.
Especially since you can hear the sound but see no firelight, who would be walking in the dark like that?
While they were talking, the young man on horseback returned, this time with no leisure to look around but hurried back into the caravan.
“There’s a Holy Lotus Sect gathering holding a ritual ahead, we can’t get around them, we’ll have to take a detour.”
“What? That’s just our luck, now we can’t even make it to the village.”
Mo Li frowned upon hearing these three words even in the heartland of the Central Plains.
Seeing Mo Li’s change in expression, Meng Qi patted the doctor’s hand in a comforting gesture and got up, heading towards the caravan.
Though wearing a simple hat, his attire was thin with the coming of spring, his tall and slender figure not that of an ordinary man. Emerging from the darkness, the caravan’s perimeter guards and drivers became alert, ready to challenge him but held their tongues, gripping their concealed weapons instinctively.
“Gentlemen, I and my friend are traveling for leisure, and this is our first time in this area. May I inquire what this Holy Lotus Sect is about and what this ritual entails?”
When there’s an opportunity to ask directly, Master Meng would rather save his efforts.
The people in the caravan looked at each other, and after a moment, the young man squeezed through to the front, sizing up Meng Qi with obvious surprise.
“The Holy Lotus Sect… they’re just a group of poor common folk, blindly believing in some true Buddha, true way, always muttering about the divine. It’s best to avoid them; they’re quite hostile to outsiders. Not only will they not offer shelter, but they’ll also chase you out of their village with disdain,” the young man casually explained, then couldn’t help muttering, “It seems to have gotten worse these last few years, it wasn’t like this before.”
Meng Qi’s expression turned serious.
He thanked them with a bow, not lingering to say anything else, and turned back to the carriage.
“What kind of person is that, so abrupt and rude? He didn’t even greet the elder over here,” grumbled a servant by the young man’s side.
“Enough, don’t stir trouble when we’re outside! Do you even know who that person might be?” The young man slapped the servant’s head down.
“What big figure could he be, royalty or nobility?” the servant muttered.
If a young man wanted to converse with the elderly, he should first pay respects, and the absence of such formalities was considered impolite. Indeed, there was an elder among the caravan who was the decision-maker and regarded as the leader. Although Meng Qi completely ignored him during the interaction, when the young man spoke, the elder nodded in agreement, “Young Master Qiu is right; that man is no ordinary person. Let’s get the cart out of this pit and take a detour.”
Returning to the carriage, Meng Qi saw that Mo Li also appeared troubled; the increasing number of Holy Lotus Sect followers was definitely not a good sign.
Meng Qi wasted no time suggesting that he should go to the nearby village to investigate.
Mo Li wasn’t worried about him facing danger in such a small place, but he felt that the Holy Lotus Sect or possibly the Tianshou King might be plotting something. He cautioned, “Don’t stir up trouble.”
Meng Qi waved his hand to signal no worries, and disappeared into the darkness.
The distant sound of bronze bells and drums carried over, and Mo Li could distinguish the sounds of worship directed at Ziwei Emperor, Lord of the North Star.
Ziwei Emperor is considered a deity in Taoism.
Taoism values natural harmony, and even when venerating deities, it does not involve such clamor. The members of the Holy Lotus Sect, holding ritual implements and unshaven, using an approach once reserved for worshiping Maitreya, appeared neither fully monk nor daoist but more like some kind of folk heresy concocted by charlatans.
When Meng Qi arrived, he saw the villagers all kneeling on the ground, while about a dozen people in white robes shook bells and drums, chanting continuously.
The altar was set with the usual offerings of three animals, along with wine and fruit.
There was no live sacrifice, nor any idols, only a sandalwood placard bearing the name of the Ziwei Emperor.
These white-robed followers of the Holy Lotus Sect looked like villagers. Although they were dressed in white, their robes were yellowed, and none of them knew martial arts. Meng Qi circled the village and found that apart from the elderly who were less mobile, everyone else was gathered at the village entrance worshiping the Ziwei Emperor.
The prayers were quite ordinary, wishing for good weather for the crops and happiness for all families.
Finding nothing suspicious, Meng Qi’s expression did not improve.
He returned to Mo Li’s side without saying a word, shaking his head.
“Not the Holy Lotus Sect?” Mo Li was puzzled, as he hadn’t heard any sounds of fighting, and the ringing and drumming continued.
Meng Qi, with a serious face, said, “They’re all ordinary folks… just believers in the Holy Lotus Sect.”
Mo Li thought it over.
It’s inevitable for the common people to believe in gods and Buddhas; it’s just a matter of what they believe in.
“An entire village, all followers of the Holy Lotus Sect’s Ziwei Emperor.” Meng Qi furrowed his brows, thinking deeper and further.
It doesn’t matter what the common folk believe in, but it becomes dangerous and abnormal, in Meng Qi’s view, if they don’t allow beliefs different from their own or if an entire village believes only in one deity.
“I wonder if it’s just this village or if the nearby areas also have this tendency…”
“Even if the Holy Lotus Sect becomes troublesome, it’s hard for them to convince the people to abandon their peaceful lives and take up arms in rebellion,” Mo Li thought differently from Meng Qi, feeling that the situation hadn’t yet reached an irreversible point.
“They don’t need to do much here, just enough to cause trouble for the Qi Dynasty, like spreading rumors about tax increases on their fields, or even committing murders and framing it on the officials’ spoiled children, which could stir up the people. Initially, the common folk might just seek an explanation, but the conflict could escalate unexpectedly, and once it gets out of hand, no one could calm it down.”
Meng Qi knew this, yet he felt powerless to act.
There could be many such villages, and unlike the townsfolk of Qinghu Town known for their wickedness, these people were merely worshiping the Ziwei Emperor, deceived by misleading words. If someone tried to forbid their practices, it could provoke a backlash, making matters worse.
“Emperor Lu Zhang is really clueless, and are all the officials in the Qi Dynasty fools? They failed to spot the dangers of the Holy Lotus Sect early on, allowing it to grow strong!”
Meng Qi was angry. When he had left his official post years ago, there were not so many hidden dangers in the world.
