Meng Qi: No worries, I must hold on and remain composed.
“Splash.”
The soft sound of water echoed in his ears, and Mo Li instinctively sank his body deeper into the water.
It was quieter at the bottom, and also safer.
But a hand grabbed him, preventing him from sinking. Mo Li, who had been trying to submerge for a while, felt sluggish and thought he had gotten caught on something.
Seaweed?
There’s no such thing at home!
Could it be that his tail got stuck in a rock crevice?
This had indeed happened to Mo Li before. In winter, the pond would freeze over, and while sleeping, his body would float up, knocking his head against the ice, waking him up every time. By the end of the night, he’d knock his head countless times. It was so troublesome that he decided to find a rock crevice to “anchor” himself.
But—
Is it winter now?
Something felt off to Mo Li. He tried to open his eyes, but all he saw was pitch darkness.
There were no rippling water patterns. It seemed like he was floating on the surface.
This perspective was clearly in human form.
If a fish “lies” facing the sky, things aren’t looking good.
Mo Li couldn’t remember why he was in the water. His limbs and entire body felt as though they had been dismantled, sore and unresponsive.
Even in the toughest, most grueling days of martial training as a “youth,” he hadn’t felt this exhausted. As his skills improved, it became even less likely for this level of fatigue to occur.
In his daze, Mo Li couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of the plague that he had treated patients non-stop for five days and nights, or if he had been swept away by a flash flood for three hundred li. The latter seemed more likely since he had woken up in the water.
Mo Li struggled for a moment, preparing to return to his original form, as it would be easier for a fish to swim in the water.
But nothing happened.
What’s going on? Mo Li looked down and saw that his ankle was being held by someone.
That wasn’t the most surprising thing—it was his clothes.
“…”
After about a quarter of an hour, Mo Li finally remembered what had happened.
They had encountered a once-in-a-decade storm, been swept away by the wind, and had somehow undergone a complete spiritual fusion.
What kind of storm was that? Clouds as towering as city walls, with sunlight visible at the center. Being trapped in it felt like falling into a well. But where would you find a well floating in midair? And the “well” was large enough to easily accommodate a massive golden dragon—enough space to fit the entire capital city of Taijing.
The more Mo Li recalled, the more unbelievable it seemed.
He even wondered if he was dreaming.
But it couldn’t be a dream, since after being tossed around by the wind, he still couldn’t get up.
Mo Li turned his head to see a person lying on the sandy shore.
Without a doubt, it was Meng Qi. Clearly, they had fallen into the water, but Meng Qi had remained conscious and had dragged them both to the shore. Otherwise, Mo Li would still be floating in the lake, which stretched out vast and boundless, with no shore in sight.
Meng Qi’s grip on his hand was tight. Mo Li struggled to stand, but as soon as he did, he staggered and almost fell face-first into the sand.
This feeling of complete exhaustion, as if he were a wreck, was excruciating.
His muscles twitched from his forearms to his fingers.
Given the countless lightning strikes during the storm, it wasn’t surprising that this had happened… nonsense! Mo Li’s face remained expressionless, though there was a hint of annoyance. He had imagined countless scenarios of being with Meng Qi, but he never thought a bizarre storm would be the cause.
At that moment, Mo Li was soaked, while Meng Qi was covered in sand.
This oddly mirrored their true forms. The more Mo Li looked, the more his anger faded.
Fate was a matter of timing. For others, things would naturally fall into place, but for them, the storm made it happen whether they were ready or not.
Mo Li didn’t mind whether it happened earlier or later, but Mr. Qin had always taught that without trust, one cannot stand, and without propriety, things fall apart. Mo Li felt that they should return to Qimao Mountain together to see Mr. Qin. A matchmaker and betrothal gifts weren’t necessary, but the heavens and earth still had to be honored.
Dragons had no parents, almost as if they were born from the heavens and earth.
Mo Li’s prayers were not for himself but for more spiritual creatures to appear on Qimao Mountain.
There was a white fox, a white ginseng, and a python. Though it sounded like there were three, the white ginseng couldn’t speak or move, and the python was lazy after eating. So in reality, only the fox was active. Mo Li hoped the white fox would find a similarly beautiful mate and have a litter of smart, handsome cubs. In ten or twenty years, wouldn’t Qimao Mountain be bustling with little clever ones?
Foxes were naturally more intelligent than other wild animals in the mountains, so there was hope.
With the help of the dragon’s spiritual energy and after paying respects to the heavens and earth, it might just work!
Mo Li silently thought about his future life, though he could barely make it a few steps. His meridians and dantian were empty, and after a quarter of an hour, he had gathered only a small amount of spiritual energy, slowly pulling himself up.
The water was murky, and the spiritual energy brought by the heavy rain quickly dissipated.
Mo Li took a deep breath, shook off his daze, and prepared to carry Meng Qi to a place sheltered from the wind.
After all, they had nothing on them, not even clothes, so it wasn’t convenient to go anywhere.
Just as Mo Li pried Meng Qi’s hand away, the latter stirred, immediately opening his eyes.
“You’re awake?” Meng Qi asked instinctively.
Then, as consciousness returned, they both fell into silence.
A cool breeze blew gently, water rippled, and the clouds parted, revealing the pale moonlight.
In the end, it was the thick-skinned Meng Qi who broke the awkward silence. He cleared his throat, brushed off the sand, and said, “Doctor, is there anything uncomfortable?”
As soon as he said it, Mo Li laughed, and Meng Qi showed a rare look of embarrassment.
If Mo Li were really unwell, could Meng Qi diagnose or prescribe medicine?
“I’m fine, thanks to you for saving me,” Mo Li had already thought things through before Meng Qi woke up, so he appeared calm.
But it was Meng Qi who felt uneasy. The Golden Dragon had indeed saved the Black Dragon, otherwise being swept away by the storm for a full day and night was entirely possible. Though the storm wouldn’t have taken the dragon’s life, it would have left him gravely weakened. However, the issue lay in the *way* Meng Qi had saved him.
Was Meng Qi someone who cared about his dignity? Absolutely!
Was this incident damaging to his dignity? Not at all! Then what was the problem?
The storm had coincidentally pushed things forward, and the dragon, having had a taste of it, couldn’t get the image of Mo Li out of his head. Meng Qi couldn’t control where his eyes wandered, nor could he control his heartbeat, and standing in front of him was none other than a divine physician.
Fate had played its tricks—or rather, the storm had messed with them both—and now they didn’t even have clothes!
—What dignity was left? They had lost both pride and propriety!
“There’s no one around; it’s just a wild field,” Meng Qi glanced around, rubbing the sand from his arms.
Tsk, the sand along this lakeshore was terrible.
Mo Li, seeing through Meng Qi’s thoughts, stifled a laugh and said, “Meng, you’ve chosen a good spot, saving us from further awkwardness.”
“Why are you still calling me Meng?”
“Then… Qi Xing?”
Meng Qi felt that his formal name wasn’t intimate enough, and after a brief pause, Mo Li caught on and corrected himself, “Ah Chu?”
Meng Qi’s face stiffened. He couldn’t argue, since the character in his name couldn’t be used directly, and “Chu” did match how Mo Li called him “Ah Li.”
“Forget it. Let’s just stick to how we addressed each other before,” Meng Qi gave up on the matter and hurriedly walked ahead, hoping to avoid any further eye contact.
Mo Li also quietly breathed a sigh of relief. No matter how much sense it all made, he still wasn’t used to wandering around in such a state.
“By the way,” Meng Qi suddenly turned back.
Mo Li was startled and almost jumped in surprise.
Meng Qi: “…”
Understood—so the doctor’s calm demeanor was also an act, albeit a better one than his own.
“I’ll go look for a path, some clothes, food, and maybe a bag. How about you wait for me in the lake, Ah Li?”
Did he want him to turn back into a fish? Mo Li thought it over and decided it was a good idea. There was no need for both of them to go find clothes, and his luck had always been terrible. If they happened to run into some martial arts expert who saw their embarrassing state in the night, it would be an absolute disaster.
What? Had they previously run into a swordsman just by thinking of it? That doesn’t count—the swordsman was even more unfortunate than he was, having used up all his luck meeting a benefactor at a critical moment.
Mo Li thought to himself that if he hadn’t studied medicine and martial arts, both of which he was fairly skilled at, he might have turned back home long before even leaving Zhushan County.
Bad luck wasn’t scary; what was scary was constantly being caught in situations that defied explanation.
Mo Li suspected that even this encounter with the storm might have been due to his own bad luck.
Forget it—he wouldn’t accompany Meng Qi on this venture.
“Check if there are any sick households nearby,” Mo Li reminded him.
He more or less knew where Meng Qi was headed—probably to one of those wild inns frequented by people from the martial world, or perhaps a ghost market.
Ghost markets were rare to come by, but wild inns posed no problem. Still, as things were urgent, some silver would be needed later to settle accounts.
Meng Qi waved it off with ease, “No need to worry, Doctor. Besides healing, I can also find some ways to earn money.”
That storm earlier was massive, and there were bound to be merchants and travelers stranded. Though the rain had stopped, resuming the journey would be difficult. The ground was full of puddles and mud, and once a cart got stuck, it would be hard to push it free. Delayed like this, they wouldn’t reach the city in time, nor would they find shelter. In these times, being stuck outdoors was no good. Wild beasts roamed the night, and there was always the threat of bandits—it could cost them their lives.
If someone offered a helping hand, the merchants would be more than grateful, willing to pay for the service of a skilled escort to guide them into the city.
Of course, it wouldn’t be much money, but it would be enough for an emergency.
With confidence, Meng Qi headed off. Mo Li, seeing that there was no one around, returned to the water.
It was summer flood season, and after the heavy rain, the lake had risen, submerging parts of the shoreline, including some mugwort plants.
Mo Li waded waist-deep into the water before transforming back into a black fish. The path he had taken was thick with grasses and roots, making swimming troublesome, but the benefit was that, when unconscious, he hadn’t had to worry about sinking.
Swarms of mosquitoes buzzed away, startled, and tiny fish and shrimp scattered near his feet.
Mo Li didn’t pay them any mind. When he was unconscious, insects likely wouldn’t have been able to bite through his skin, and now that he had regained some internal energy, it was even more unlikely.
“Plop.”
The black fish leaped into the water.
The lake was murky, and it swam leisurely through the waters.
After a while, Mo Li sighed inwardly.
It’s hard to go back once you’ve experienced luxury. Although this lake was quite large, and there might even be two or three small spiritual pools keeping it lively, it still couldn’t compare to Feihe Mountain.
Let alone that, having just endured the spiritual cleansing of the storm, the black fish’s interest waned the more it swam, almost making him want to go ashore.
Suddenly, his tail flicked, and the black fish warily eyed the slightly muddy waters.
Was it just a trick of the mind?
Mo Li had his doubts. He felt like there was something in the lake.
Author’s Note:
Black Fish: …silent
Fat Mouse: …silent
Tonight’s silence is brought to you by the passing typhoon [Hey!]
Fat Mouse: This sand is awful.
Black Fish: This water is awful.
Sand Mouse + Black Fish: What else? What else? I don’t know, nothing happened.
