Fat Mouse + Black Fish: Afraid to Lose, Afraid to Gain
The road out was very long. They did not know where they would end up or what kind of people they would meet.
The road back to Pingzhou, however, was entirely different. Aside from encountering mountain bandits twice in Yongzhou, nothing else happened throughout the rest of the journey.
It seemed that once the Holy Lotus Sect and the bandits responded to the Tianshou King’s uprising, any lingering threats to safety had been used up. Or perhaps Meng Qi and Mo Li’s reputations had already spread widely in the martial world: first they caused the downfall of Ancestor Qing Wu, then they killed the Tianshou King and Zheng Tu. Others weighed their own abilities and retreated at a prudent distance.
This made Meng Qi lose interest. Lying next to Mo Li, he said, “It looked like it was time for seclusion.”
Mo Li did not understand his meaning.
Meng Qi then vividly described the usual effects of such rumors in the martial world.
In the beginning, everyone felt fear, but the martial world could change in three to five years. The fastest way to become well-known was to challenge those with an “infamous reputation,” especially ones who had disappeared for years, making the rumors seem blurred and unreal.
“By then, we would have endless trouble.”
“…”
Mo Li thought Meng Qi’s expression did not seem to be discussing trouble but rather speaking of easy amusement delivered straight to their door.
“The day after tomorrow, we would reach Zhushan County.”
Meng Qi let out a long sigh.
The bed in the inn was too small and somewhat cramped.
There were too many people in the Chen family caravan, and this place was remote. The conditions of the inn were already poor, and no one had the privilege of having a room alone—there simply were not enough rooms. It was already the eleventh month, and ordinary foot inns felt too cold, but the Chen family was not stingy with their own people.
The inn’s bedding smelled musty. After Meng Qi entered, he habitually tossed the pillows and quilts onto the table, lifted the bed curtain, and opened the window, letting the cold wind blow the room until it felt like an ice cellar. In any case, neither he nor Mo Li feared the cold.
These rooms had limited ventilation all winter long. No matter how much they cleaned, the smell still made one frown.
A waiter had planned on bringing a charcoal stove and hot water to earn a few extra copper coins, but the moment he entered the room, the wind left him stunned. When he departed, he kept shooting Meng Qi a look as though he were a madman.
Mo Li, innocent by association, also received a few disdainful glances.
“The food in this inn was not yet terrible,” Mo Li tried advising Meng Qi.
“No, we still had our own rations.”
Meng Qi refused in one breath. When he left Taijing, he had carried ten full pounds of oil-fried pancakes.
They were made of flour, fried in sesame oil until both sides turned golden, and they stayed edible for a long time in winter.
There were also ten pounds of dried meat, ten jars of fine wine, plus chestnuts and various pastries they bought along the way, consuming some and replenishing them as needed, filling the carriage to the brim.
——Once Fat Mouse only wanted to lie on the bed and munch chestnuts, there was no dragging him anywhere.
Right when Mo Li was about to get up, Meng Qi grabbed him firmly and said:
“A-Li, I kept feeling that Mistress Xue was trying to find out something these days.”
Even Meng Qi inevitably felt a bit uneasy as they neared Pingzhou’s Zhushan County.
Mo Li tried comforting him, but he noticed the more he spoke, the more anxious Meng Qi became.
Besides, Mo Li himself did not fare much better.
Magistrate Xue had told him to leave and stay away from Meng Qi; in the end, he brought him back. Qin Lu might have expected him to return with a fish, but he ended up with a fat mouse instead! That was quite a difference! And then there was Tang Xiao Tang, his younger disciple brother who was still so young. How could he explain Meng Qi’s identity and their relationship?
The more Mo Li thought, the more muddled he became, unable to sleep.
Now, they both lay there like fools, eyes open, with the cold wind still gusting, yet their minds were no clearer.
“What about Mistress Xue?” Mo Li asked casually.
Meng Qi said nothing, continuing to think.
Xue Zhu gave no sign of any weakness. Chen Zhong looked coarse and brutish, yet he was the caravan’s manager, quick-witted, and quite adept at pretending to be foolish.
Chen Zhong was not skilled with words, but he did not banter around with Meng Qi, nor did he follow Meng Qi’s conversational leads. He only laughed and rattled off nonsense that had no coherence.
Meng Qi did not mind if Xue Zhu and Chen Zhong saw through his relationship with Mo Li. He had no intention of hiding it and had hoped to use them as a way in. Things had gone smoothly initially, yet lately, Xue Zhu’s calm demeanor concealed a deep wariness.
That was not good.
“Did I offend them somehow?” Meng Qi asked earnestly.
Mo Li rubbed his temple, thinking that the sand mouse was clueless.
“Brother Meng, on this journey you truly displayed all your…”
Skills in both letters and martial arts, a subdued radiance, an elegant way of speaking, and impeccable manners.
Put simply, one could not find such a young paragon even with a lantern.
No, actually, he was even more charming than those new talents. It seemed there was nothing Meng Qi did not know, yet he never put on airs. When silent, he felt like a reclusive master; when wandering about, he could chat merrily with the caravan drivers and porters.
Chen Zhong aside, Xue Zhu knew very well the level of Mo Li’s martial prowess, and how many in the world could match Mo Li?
Moreover, there were countless martial-world rumors. If Xue Zhu went behind their backs to ask a roving outlaw, she would definitely learn something.
Xue Ting had once mentioned “Grand Preceptor Meng” to Mo Li. Could it be he had never told his own daughter?
Meng Qi did not plan on hiding his identity. He intended to change Xue Ting’s prejudice against “Grand Preceptor Meng,” but he forgot that in Xue Zhu’s eyes, Mo Li was only in his twenties! A normal person who had never left Zhushan County—could he have been tricked by Meng Qi?
Mistress Xue felt torn. On this trip, she heard rumors of the “Chu Dynasty’s Grand Preceptor Meng.” Then she encountered him in person, and now Grand Preceptor Meng even planned to travel to Zhushan County together?
Zhushan County had nothing besides her father, a former poison master, and possibly Mo Li’s teacher, Divine Doctor Qin Lu.
Mistress Xue did not think Meng Qi had ill intentions, nor did she believe Mo Li was so easily deceived. She simply knew for certain that she was no match for Meng Qi. Once there was any danger, she would have no way to guard against it. Of course she felt on edge.
“She probably already wrote a letter, sending it by a fast rider to inform Magistrate Xue about what happened here.”
Mo Li briefly revealed his guess. Meng Qi blinked, revealing a “troubled by his own renown” expression.
“…Magistrate Xue would not act outright while I was by your side,” Mo Li said in all seriousness.
Then he could not help laughing. Why was it that after going out for over a year, he felt less steady than before?
Xue Ting was not that unreasonable; Old Mister Qin was even more sensible…
Mo Li thought about this, then suddenly felt something like white fibres drift in on the cold wind outside the window.
“It’s snowing.”
Tomorrow, they would part ways with the Chen family caravan—one heading toward Ma County, the other going through mountain roads.
“This hint of spiritual energy…” Meng Qi flipped over in bed and sat up, looking at Mo Li with delight.
Mo Li pressed his lips together and did not speak.
They were close to entering the area of Qi Mao Mountain; that bone-chilling wind and snow had come from there.
Meng Qi walked eagerly to the window to look out. Mo Li acted quickly and removed the bamboo pole propping the window, and the room instantly fell into darkness.
“A-Li?”
“There’s nothing to see out there.” Mo Li thought of the magnificent scenery of the nineteen peaks of Shangyun Mountain and could not help feeling a bit awkward. It was the first time he felt embarrassed, not because of its “chicken feather” name, but because, in terms of area or scenery, it was… just too plain.
Viewed from the capital, Shangyun Mountain had the looming momentum of a dragon, with clouds and mist swirling grandly.
Qi Mao Mountain, however, was just a wild mountain lush with vegetation.
It happened to be winter now, and even that small advantage disappeared.
Mo Li had never thought Qi Mao Mountain was inadequate, but now he even wished it had half of Flying Crane Mountain’s gracefulness (the gray bird rustled its wings and sneezed), so he would not be so embarrassed.
“The carriage could take the narrow sheep-gut trail. Nearby was Wolf Ridge, a rugged route.”
Mo Li explained with some effort. There were still other deserted mountains between them and Qi Mao Mountain.
Meng Qi tilted his head, then suddenly laughed softly. “This faint, elusive spiritual energy made me wish I could travel through the night and step onto that mountain I’ve long admired, breathe in the fragrance rising from the soil, immerse myself in the river that holds its spiritual vein, just like I’m embracing A-Li right now…”
Then he stretched out his arms and found them empty.
Mo Li tried hard to act as though nothing was wrong and, tripping over his feet, walked back to the bed.
“Sleep.”
Wasn’t the bed too small? Once they shrank, it held them both.
Shrinking had an added benefit—it kept Meng Qi from being restless at night.
One should know that even turning into a sand rat still meant the sand rat’s paws were restless. Mo Li decided to use a clever tactic to cut off trouble at its root.
——An eight-year-old boy could stretch out sideways in bed.
Meng Qi quickly stepped forward, shedding his oversized outer robe. By the time he lunged onto the bed, his long arms had already turned into equally chubby arms.
Reaching beneath their clothes to tickle, Mo Li could not help but shrink a bit more. By the time he broke free, he was already the size of a three or four-year-old child.
He lifted his foot and kicked the backside of the other chubby kid who had not yet managed to escape from his undergarments.
He only shrank in size; his martial skills remained, although most of his techniques were hampered by his small form.
Still, since his opponent was also a chubby child, that did not matter.
Their arms were equally short, their legs equally limited in reach, and rolling over was equally difficult. Moves that were originally powerful appeared quite comical.
And yet, they fought with great excitement and found it novel.
Mo Li’s attempt at a sweeping kick with his right leg hit nothing. Meng Qi tried using a precise joint lock, but his short, stubby fingers could not “grab” that chubby arm with three lotus-root segments. Plus, when he drew back to steady his stance, he lost balance and toppled forward, rolling into Mo Li in one big heap.
“Hee-hee… haha…”
The childish sound of laughter echoed through the room.
Mo Li suddenly felt something cold on his face—how had more snowflakes drifted in?
By reflex, he looked toward the window and immediately froze.
At some point, a person stood at the window, silently—just silently—watching the two chubby children frolicking on the bed.
“Teacher?!”
Mo Li jumped on the spot, scrambling off the bed. He wanted to change back but realized his undergarment was nearly undone, so he hastily gathered up his clothes, fumbling to pull them on while desperately shaking Meng Qi with one hand.
Old Mister Qin, white-haired and white-bearded, walked unsteadily to the table and sat down.
Mo Li was too frightened to change back. He clutched his clothes around himself and rummaged through the porcelain jars of medicine.
“Teacher, the Heart Protecting Pill…”
Qin Lu’s mood was very complicated. He had seen from a distance that one of the inn’s windows was open, with his disciple and a stranger standing by it.
In the middle of the night, it was not the best time to meet, yet unexpectedly, he heard the laughter of children from inside the room. Qin Lu felt puzzled. Added to that, he had hurried over because of Mistress Xue’s urgent letter, already worried about Mo Li. Then, upon seeing the scene before him, he was stunned by its absurdity.
Children who looked exactly like his disciple did as a child?
His disciple had only been away for less than two years, and now there were children? Two of them?!
Old Mister Qin felt briefly dazed until he heard that familiar voice calling out, and the anxiety he had felt floated away.
Then he silently looked at that pudgy Xiao Li, who had not even finished dressing and was now running toward him with the medicine.
Standing beside them was another tiny child with an awkward expression, pink-cheeked, arms short and rounded. In that biting cold wind, he stood barefoot and showed no sign of feeling chilled. Together with Mo Li, they were like a pair of golden lads from a New Year’s print.
“I’m fine.”
Old Mister Qin composed himself, stroked his beard, and asked, “So this was the one you found…”
“A companion—Brother Meng was the dragon vein of Shangyun Mountain.” Mo Li clutched the medicine bottle in worry, not daring to set it down.
Qin Lu was taken aback. He certainly knew where Shangyun Mountain was. He reflexively reached into his sleeve for the letter Xue Zhu had delivered and instantly understood.
A dragon vein near the capital city—it was no wonder he served as the Grand Preceptor of Chu.
Meng Qi, who stood obediently beside Mo Li, secretly poked Mo Li’s arm.
Mo Li looked back and met Meng Qi’s triumphant gaze. They were both too short, so as long as they did not crane their necks, Qin Lu, even seated, could not see the expressions on their faces.
——Eighty-seven years old? That problem was suddenly solved. With the ability to grow and shrink, what age was inappropriate now?
Mo Li pondered. Yes, transforming into chubby children was better than turning into a sand rat on the spot for Qin Lu’s explanation!
