A wise man knows the times, Fat Mouse, you should admit it.
To the west lay a mountain, rumored to be the place of strong men and bandits.
In reality, this mountain was not very large, and its terrain was far from complex, consisting merely of various hills pieced together.
In the mountainous region of Pingzhou, such a mountain might not even have a name, but because Yuzhou was flat, this mountain stood out prominently.
The people at the wild inn said that there used to be bandits in the western mountain, but that was many years ago.
During the chaos of the world, bandits were everywhere, gathering in the mountains and forests to plunder all around. It was not surprising they made their nests in the mountains. However, after the world settled down, the western mountain was no longer suitable as a bandit stronghold. In summer, the forest in the mountain was dense enough to hide people, but in winter, with everything withered and bare, bandits had nowhere to hide.
With no natural barriers, no dense forests, and not even any large caves, the soldiers could easily surround and capture the bandits.
Thus, the western mountain was abandoned by the “green forest heroes.”
Although there were no fierce beasts in the mountain, creatures like weasels, wild foxes, and night owls were not to be trifled with, so aside from woodcutters, no one usually entered the mountain.
Yet, every few months, faint firelight could be seen from the western mountain.
When people went to investigate during the day, they could only find some used torches in the mountain.
Ghosts did not need torches, and creatures like the fox spirit Hu Daxian did not use them either; only humans used torches.
But what kind of people would sneakily gather in the mountains? Some daring youngsters, with nothing better to do, went into the mountains to investigate, only to be beaten black and blue by the Jianghu people and returned home in disgrace.
The common folk did not understand the concept of Jianghu; to them, Jianghu either meant heroes or strong bandits. People sneaking into the mountains at night and beating others were certainly not good people, thus the rumor of strong men in the western mountain spread again.
However, these Jianghu people were just setting up stalls to sell small items, dispersing at dawn. The officials came several times but never found any bandits. The county magistrate, in anger, had the idle men spreading rumors beaten.
This made the common folk too afraid to openly discuss the matter. Some still believed in the existence of strong men in the mountain, while others did not. Regardless of their beliefs, everyone instinctively avoided the western mountain and would not go there unless absolutely necessary, always telling outsiders that the mountain was difficult to traverse.
Coincidentally, Mo Li needed a secluded place to sew clothes and headed for the western mountain.
On the way, he encountered Yuan Zhi, a monk with high cultivation. Yuan Zhi was so well hidden that Mo Li did not notice him at first. This made Doctor Mo cautious, realizing that even remote areas were not safe and that he could not carelessly call out Meng Qi’s name or let the sand rat transform at will.
He had to find a place that could block prying eyes from all directions.
Searching for such a place, he set his eyes on this valley.
Surrounded by mountains, it offered a good vantage point from high up, and the valley itself was relatively flat with sparse trees.
The mountain walls were covered in vines, and the gaps between rocks were filled with short trees, thoroughly concealing the caves—what a perfect place! Mo Li, holding the sand rat, entered a cave in the stone wall, allowing Meng Qi to transform freely, whether into a fat baby or any other form, even without clothes.
But—
Who could have thought there would be a ghost market in the valley?
A ghost market did not refer to a market full of ghosts but to a market that only appeared at night, selling items not found in ordinary shops. The goods traded might have questionable origins or be of uncertain authenticity.
Ghost markets were rarely seen, which was related to their formation.
There always had to be a group of people with items they could not pawn for money, and another group willing to spend money on such items, thus forming an unseen ghost market.
Meng Qi looked at the cloth in his hand and couldn’t help but say, “Um… Doctor, shall we go down and take a look?”
It was better not to waste fine cloth and see if they could buy some clothes instead.
Mo Li silently put away the needle, thread, and cloth.
——The dragon vein was not omnipotent.
Whether it was the miracle doctor who saved lives or Master Meng who helped establish a prosperous era, neither could make a decent piece of clothing.
Without clothes, Meng Qi obediently turned back into a sand rat, allowing Mo Li to tuck him into his bosom. Then, Mo Li quietly slung his bag over his back and slid down the stone wall, sneaking around to another direction and mingling into the crowd.
From above the stone wall, the firelight seemed bright, but standing at the stalls, the light was still insufficient.
For most people, they had to crouch down and bring the items close to their eyes to see them clearly.
The stall vendors were all Jianghu people with short tempers. This was not like a typical temple fair where you could casually pick up items and play with them. If you touched something and didn’t buy it, you might get into trouble, so everyone silently looked around, not daring to ask prices lightly.
Mo Li had a clear goal and went straight to the stall selling blood-stained clothes of Chunshan Sect disciples.
The stall owner was a rough-looking middle-aged man with a messy beard and a face blackened with stove ash, likely to conceal his identity while doing this kind of business.
He called out energetically, but most people were just watching the excitement. Not a single person truly foolish enough to use blood-stained clothes for fraud appeared. The middle-aged man was worrying when he suddenly saw Mo Li walking straight toward him, and his eyes lit up.
“This young hero… no, no, this young master, would you like a blood-stained garment?”
“Do you have any clothes that aren’t blood-stained?”
Mo Li did not hide his face. Although it was dark at night, standing close to the torch made him very noticeable.
In the Jianghu ghost market, famous experts would not come because they considered the items here to be trash.
The stall owner naturally didn’t see Mo Li as some mysterious expert. He glanced Mo Li up and down, rubbing his hands and lowering his voice, “Clean clothes, yes. One that fits your size, young master? We also have matching Chunshan Sect disciple waist badges. Altogether, it’ll be five taels of silver.”
As he spoke, he lifted his sleeve, and a badge flashed in front of Mo Li’s eyes before the stall owner quickly tucked it away.
“You don’t say, I don’t say, and no one will know.” The stall owner smiled.
Five taels of silver was not a small amount, and it was a price the stall owner had just added.
Because Mo Li looked different from those penniless Jianghu people.
He was calculating Mo Li, and Mo Li was also eyeing him.
Doctor Mo thought simply, the so-called blood-stained clothes of Chunshan Sect disciples were definitely fake.
Mo Li had previously encountered Elder Song Ya of Chunshan Sect and had heard quite a bit about the sect. Chunshan Sect had many disciples, acted arrogantly, made many enemies, and originally a good sect, but because the elders and disciples liked to dabble in unorthodox practices—this one practiced poison, that one raised gu—had become despised by the righteous and unrecognized by the demonic. Its reputation was utterly rotten, making the stall owner’s business very clever.
However, Chunshan Sect was wealthy, powerful, and very protective.
The ghost market was filled with ordinary Jianghu people, including the stall owner. He couldn’t have killed a Chunshan Sect disciple and then come here to sell the blood-stained clothes; that would be seeking death, not doing business.
The clothes were fake, and the Chunshan Sect disciple insignia on them were forged.
Someone capable of counterfeiting the uniforms of a major sect must surely be able to make clothes!
“How much to make a piece of clothing?” Mo Li asked seriously.
The stall owner’s eyes flickered, and he refused, “I only have Chunshan Sect disciple clothes here, genuine goods. If you don’t buy, leave.”
On the surface, he was selling blood-stained clothes, but his real business was helping others impersonate disciples of major sects to swindle food and shelter. However, he feared trouble; the tokens and waist badges sold by others were genuine items accidentally lost, but his business was long-term, setting up stalls wherever there was a ghost market. If someone wore the clothes he sold to commit murder or arson and framed the disciples of a major sect, it would be big trouble for him.
“I have some fabric and need it urgently. Just sew the clothes, nothing else,” Mo Li said, taking out the cut fabric from his bag.
The stall owner was stunned.
This was obviously not the standard clothing of a major sect’s disciple. Who would wear fine cloth costing several taels of silver per bolt? Even the wealthiest force in Jianghu, Golden Phoenix Villa, wasn’t this extravagant!
But who would come to a ghost market to have clothes made? Couldn’t they just go to any tailor shop?
Unless this piece of clothing needed to appear at an important location and someone would surely trace its origin—
The stall owner’s mind raced through countless possibilities and conspiracies before he finally gritted his teeth and said, “Young master, you must be joking. I’m just a seller of blood-stained clothes, not a tailor.”
Mo Li was about to say more when he suddenly felt the sand rat in his bosom pat his chest with its paw.
The sand rat was quite helpless; hiring someone to make clothes was a good idea, but this was a ghost market! The things sold here either had questionable origins or couldn’t see the light of day!
Taking advantage of the night, the sand rat quietly poked its head out, then wriggled its body to point Mo Li in a direction.
At first, Mo Li didn’t understand what the sand rat meant and was tickled by its fur. Fortunately, for him, night was no different from day, and with a casual glance, he saw a stall in the distance with several sets of clothes.
The stall owner wasn’t shouting to attract customers, so Mo Li hadn’t noticed it initially.
Now, with the sand rat’s indication, Mo Li stepped toward that stall.
Unlike the blood-stained clothes stall owner, this one had a steady stream of people negotiating with him.
Ghost market transactions were peculiar; prices were not openly discussed. People whispered or gestured quietly to avoid others knowing the deal. Those who knew the ropes could buy things at reasonable prices, while the ignorant might be heavily scammed.
The clothes on the stall were varied, including silk robes suitable for wealthy gentry, embroidered satin favored by young masters, and even low-grade official robes, complete with various hats and boots, both old and new, all piled together.
In those days, shops selling clothes didn’t sell hats, and shops selling hats never sold boots.
What kind of person wore what kind of hat was distinct, and even the shops that sold them differed. An ordinary person wishing to impersonate a scholar with official rank would find it very hard to get a complete set of official attire. But if they managed it, it would provide great convenience.
Understanding this, Mo Li immediately set aside those half-old, half-new clothes of dubious origin and only looked at the brand-new, unwashed garments.
There were very few such clothes, and they were mismatched. Either the embroidery was ugly, or the colors were strange, like ready-made garments from shops that couldn’t be sold and were gathered here.
—Ordinary bright-colored fabrics, even without washing, would fade in three to five years and couldn’t be stored for long. Ending up in a ghost market wasn’t surprising.
Despite this, the selection in front of him was still remarkably odd.
Mo Li found it hard to choose between a robe that looked like it had been soaked in soy sauce, a white silk robe with a colorful toad embroidered on the chest, a pine-green satin robe embroidered with pink peaches that hurt the eyes, and a red silk dress with a bad dye job.
He really wanted to take out the fat mouse and let it choose with its paws.
Sand rat: “…”
The sand rat didn’t want to choose any of them.
The sand rat watched helplessly as Doctor Mo picked up the bright red robe and started haggling with the stall owner.
Bright red, also known as “chazi yanhong,” was extremely vivid.
Meng Qi couldn’t understand why any man would use this color fabric for a robe.
Moreover, the fabric of this robe wasn’t dyed properly at the dyehouse. The color was uneven, which might not have been noticeable initially, but over time, some of the bright red had faded to pink.
Meng Qi wanted to emphasize that, in others’ eyes, the National Teacher of the Chu Dynasty was already eighty-seven years old.
What eighty-seven-year-old National Teacher would wear such a robe!
However, glancing at the other robes on the stall—a gentry robe, the colorful toad robe, and the red-and-green robe that looked like it belonged to a profligate son—the fat mouse lowered its head silently, staring at its short paws, regretting not having learned to sew clothes earlier.
The stall owner surprisingly offered a fair price, clearly eager to sell the robe.
He took Mo Li’s money and even complimented, “Young master, you have great taste and a fine appearance.”
The fat mouse had grievances it couldn’t voice.
Mo Li was thoughtful.
“Would you like to buy a knife, young master? Top quality, not a single flaw.”
The vendor at the adjacent stall immediately tried to attract Mo Li’s business, probably thinking he was a sucker for buying such an ugly robe without haggling, just paying directly (others couldn’t see how much was paid, only that there was no bargaining).
“No, buy my sword. It’s stolen goods from Kongkong Sect, even inlaid with pearls.”
Another weapons vendor couldn’t stay quiet and jumped out, saying, “What kind of knife is that? Most likely picked up from a pile of corpses, very inauspicious! Just yesterday, four gangs and twelve associations were fighting, and I saw him there.”
“Nonsense, this is a weapon I replaced. I recently got a better knife, so I don’t need this one anymore.”
“Huh, a knife with a chipped blade, and you dare say it’s not damaged?”
“You’re breaking the rules! In the ghost market, if you want to buy, you buy. If you want to fight, you fight. Who’s making a fuss?”
The two men started arguing and eventually took up their knives and swords to fight.
People immediately cheered and gathered to watch the commotion.
Mo Li took advantage of the chaos to slip away, quietly returning to the cave, placing the fat mouse on the bright red robe.
“Wear it.”
Concise and to the point.
The sand rat, with its black eyes wide open, stood on its hind legs and reached out to grab the bag.
It wanted to continue sewing the clothes.
Author’s Note:
The fat mouse rides on a red cloud, oh no, National Teacher, your aura is so transcendent, a vibrant red matches you perfectly, doesn’t it?
