Chapter 105: Yet with the xiansheng's closed jade coffin (XVI)

Translator's note: If there are any errors in this chapter, forgive me; at over 6k characters in the raws, this is the longest chapter I've ever translated, and it took me all day.

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"Who are you?" Song Shijiu raised her gaze.

The white-clad woman laughed, the sound seeming to have come from deep in the snow-capped mountains. "A Yao."

A lonely ancient rode, sandalwood wheels; she sat at the end of time, the mountain and river exhausted, sat at the flourishing yin and yang, where the breeze sprang up and created waves on the water. The Xi Wangmu of folk tales had a leopard's tail and tiger's fangs, hair fluffy like a hoopoe,^[1] but the woman sitting here now was weak and frail, and when she spoke, her skin stuck to her neck, as if even in breathing she was straining.

She sluggishly raised her head to gazed at the heavens, and then swept her gaze across the withered and fallen plague worms on the ground, the corners of her mouth still carrying a smile, not even the slightest expression of loving pain apparent. The wheelchair approached slowly; she came over from within the haloing light, the cruelty of half her face shed by the light and shadow, half her face clear and wan features; her features, expression, and body were all frail, as if unable to stand ravaging. She looked towards Song Shijiu, and asked, "What's the reason for this?"

When she spoke, her fingers tapped against the arm of the wheelchair, her fingernails scraping at the vivid, lifelike Jiaolong's^[2] head. Song Shijiu turned her fan between her fingertips. The goddess Xi Wangmu, A Yao, atop Mount Kunlun in antiquity, she'd only heard of in the past from the mouths of the rabbits in Guigong Palace;^[3] she was in charge of punishments and controlled pestilence, the elixir of life in her hand, and could bestow eternal life upon people. It was the first time she'd met her, and, unexpectedly, it was at this time.

So, she drew her chin back, about to speak. Yet she saw A Yao stroking the Jiaolong's teeth, and say with a smile, "Just now, my question was merely an opening; I don't truly want to hear it that much. If you have something to say," she smiled weakly, "say it to it."

Her smile was like a kerosene lamp whose oil had been entirely burnt up; in the faint brush of light, the neighing and stamping of countless horses rose behind her; the sound was incredibly short, as if only to cause one to close their eyes, and then, when they opened them again, it was a darkness that hid the sky and covered the earth, the colossal, twisting and writhing beast holding the heavens and earth apart, its lacquer-black figure floating in the air, its head, half as large as a courtyard, pressed down, its eyes coldly narrowed, even its exhalations like the icy, cutting winter wind.

The Jiaolong carved on the wheelchair seemed to have been drawn out by a divine brush, becoming a living creature which, in a breath, could swallow the mountains and rivers, instantly appearing before the eyes. Song Shijiu instinctively retreated on her right leg, her forearms crossed before her, making a defensive posture. After all, she'd just spent a lot of her spiritual power just then; without waiting for her to finish her stance of facing the enemy, the Jiaolong drew its massive tail before its body, twisting in the air as if it had been overturned by a great wave, about to smash the weak, delicate courtyard on the ground, unable to stand up to the wind.

Song Shijiu gritted her teeth, drawing back her hand to make a time gesture, inflexibly meeting this tail; the fan Fu Guang drew a full circle, confining all of them together, creating a space separated from the rest of the world. The surface of the fan closed, falling within the region of sealed off time; with a stamp of her foot, she leaped into the air to catch it, yet unexpectedly, that Jiaolong's talons came close, striking towards her heart as rapidly as a strike of lightning. She panicked, just about to turn and dodge, yet there was a clear, crisp knocking sound before her, and a red sandalwood token, precisely blocked it, firmly stopping the Jiaolong's offensive. When she composed herself to look, Li Shiyi was standing before her, covering her, her hands forming an orchid seal, her shoulders leaning forward, her feet braced, the space between her brows furrowed tightly; with a thrust of her wrists, the token forced the Jiaolong to retreat.

The oppressive attack suddenly disappeared, as if that A Yao beneath had lightly flicked her sleeves; she gazed at the command token, as yet not drawn back, and drew her brows up, asking, "The Shentu command? You're—" Only at this did she shift her gaze to the person before her; her eyes weren't too sharp, and just then, she'd only felt Zhu Long's presence, and had assumed that the person by her side was only a little bandit, up until she'd used the Shentu command.

"Ling Heng?" She laughed, somewhat astonished, and only after a moment's pause continued. "Oh, Li Shiyi."

Knowing that she was Ling Heng couldn't be counted as strange, but that she could accurately call out the name "Li Shiyi", this was truly rather strange. Li Shiyi panted a rough breath, returning to the ground, exchanging a glance with teh equally dry mouthed Song Shijiu.

A Yao sighed, leaning to one side of the wheelchair, her index finger difficultly supporting her temple, and asked her, "Fujun-daren, at that time, you passed through a calamity and entered the wheel of reincarnation, and all the gods made things easy for you; now, I'm only practicing my power and duty, so how come daren is actually causing trouble for me?"

Li Shiyi drew the Shentu command back, and lowered her eyes. "Managing your duty is heaven's law and earth's principle, but you cannot fight her. The rest of it," she said frankly, "I can't understand."

Before, her shifu had said, the countless matters of the world couldn't escape our interactions; if there's someone who wants you to bear a situation which ought not be borne, just say that you can't understand, and that'll be it. More than that, if Li Shiyi's life were to be counted as "easy", she truly didn't know what "hard" looked like.

This character of hers truly was somewhat different than Ling Heng; thinking again of her manner of motions just then, A Yao propelled her wheelchair forward, approaching a bit closer, and took measure of her from top to bottom, still smiling as she said, "Come to think of it, Ling Heng truly hasn't returned. What's the reason, then?" She coughed a couple quiet times, the sickly, weak final syllable dispersing with a single breath.

Song Shijiu, seeing her mood still counted as mild, lowered the fan Fu Guang, thinking she only had to properly converse with her; but, seeing she was breathing as gracefully as an orchid smiled faintly and said, "If Ling Heng hasn't returned, then you can't beat me. The gratitudes and grievances between us, what relation do they have to Li Shiyi?" Song Shijiu furrowed her brows.

A Yao tucked the hair at her temple behind her ear, and then began to cough violently; only once her lips were tinted with blood did she raise her head, her smile somewhat shocking the eye and astonishing the heart in its ghastliness. "I was merely thinking, if the Taishan Fujun were to be replaced, that would be acceptable as well."

Gooseflesh rose on Song Shijiu's back, multiplying until they seemed to cover her entire body; she'd never met a woman like this before, ill in state, frail and weak, yet whose smile was cruel and merciless, treacherous and sly, carrying a faint madness.

It was as if the air had been twisted by someone, a tension as if anything could happen at any moment; Song Shijiu grasped her fan tightly, and firmly swallowed her saliva; yet she heard Li Shiyi say mildly, "I understand now."

"Understand what?" A Yao asked in reply.

"You're unmarried," Li Shiyi replied.

Song Shijiu couldn't refrain, and laughed quietly. She turned her head, glimpsing Li Shiyi's features, gentle as the breeze and light as the clouds; her fluid gaze turned unhurriedly, as if the circumstances before her were still unimportant and ordinary; only her hand was behind her back, stroking the Shentu command unhurriedly. In this small motion of hers, Song Shijiu bizarrely calmed down; she suddenly felt that life or death, none of it mattered; as long as it was Li Shiyi by her side, if she was to be attacked, she wouldn't be in pain for too long.

Thinking like this, she shook her head and began to laugh again. In her mind, she knew that she herself didn't need to be too reasonable, but Li Shiyi would would be willing to accompany her and stir up chaos; that could be counted as delight as well.

This time, A Yao wasn't smiling anymore, only looking at them with a wooden expression, her eyes darkening, and only at this did a haughtiness that those born as gods couldn't offend arise. She tilted her body, making way for the Jiaolong which had been been drooling for a long while behind her; the Jiaolong attacked like a suddenly snapping bamboo, and Li Shiyi pulled at Song Shijiu's wrist, retreating; a sharp blade flew from behind her, striking the Jiaolong's face with a "swish", and the ground ruptured fiercely.

Li Shiyi raised her head; the hun soldiers that Mulan had led just before had hurried over, and were fighting with the Jiaolong. Although Mulan's spiritual power couldn't match the Jiaolong's, luckily, her figue was nimble and deft, and her motions changed inconsistently; for a while, the Jiaolong couldn't take advantage of it easily, and, with the increasing hun soldiers' cheers, it was actually having a hard time.

Song Shijiu was just about to rise and assist Mulan with the strength of a single arm, yet she saw a strip of white silk winding back and forth as it approached, brushing past her right cheek as she turned her head to avoid it.

A scorching heat rose on her right cheek; she turned her head to look, and saw the tip of A Yao treading on the tip of her toes from the wheelchair, lifting up from the ground, as if a small, square cushion were lifting her upwards, her pure white sleeves hanging along with her calves, yet her feet were bare, and in the cold night, they gave off the light of cold jade. Each hand clung to a long, thin strip of white silk, using it as her instrument, attacking towards Li Shiyi and Song Shijiu. That silk seemed to have consciousness; it charged left and right like a spiritual snake, and occasionally, it wrapped around Song Shijiu's wrist, and sometimes it struck against Li Shiyi's sternum, while its master sat steadily in the clouds, as if leading a not too obedient marionette, and also as if watching a watching a shadow play of a last-ditch fight.^[4]

A Yao, in the end, was a god of antiquity, and defeating Song Shijiu, this beast of Mount Zhongshan, was naturally nothing difficult; and, at the same time, Song Shijiu had just injured her vital energy severely when saving the village, and Li Shiyi, even moreso, was still human in body, and struggled to resist heavenly strikes; the two fought strenuously, only their own tough bones resisting.

The circle of time was on the verge of collapse, unable to bear A Yao's great, spiritual attacks; Mulan's sword was clashing against the Jiaolong's scale armour, flashes of lightning and flint as they fought, and the muffled groans of the hun soldiers came as they forcefully swallowed down the coppery sweetness in their throats down, the desolation of fierce fighting in close quarters and the thick, iron scent of blood, disrupting one's mental state in burst after burst.

Only having fought for half a cup of tea's time, Li Shiyi's muscles were weary and her strength exhausted; she knelt on a single knee on the ground, supporting herself on a long hun soldier's sword from who knew where; her high ponytail had come half loose, falling in disorder and chaos on her drenched shoulders and neck; from her jaw to her collarbones were deep scratches, and it was covered in the aged yellow sand of the village.

She didn't have the time to gasp a breath when she saw that white silk wrapping around Song Shijiu's waist, just about to fling her to the side; Li Shiyi raised her leaden wrist, thrusting the flying sword over, and with a thunderous sound, it cut the white silk in half, Song Shijiu tumbling to the ground; yet she saw that white silk rush towards Li Shiyi, wrapping around her fine neck, and A Yao drew her wrist back, harshly binding the white silk, forcefully constricting her throat.

Her throat was fiery with pain, the bile of vomit rising in bursts in her throat, yet it couldn't overflow, such that she couldn't even breathe, only foaming blood amassing in her throat, the sand around her wounds being forced into the blood and flesh; it was as if she could hear the sound of the sandstone grinding her flesh, sweat assailing her entire face, as if the water in her features was being dredged up, and her eyes couldn't see clearly anymore.

She'd never been in this sort of pain; her muscles and bones hurt as if they were being snapped and broken, and the hard to draw breaths hurt, the deep hammering strikes of her lungs and the wheezing hurt, and her fingertips, lacking the strength to close, hurt as well, and what hurt even more was Song Shijiu's alarmed cry by her ear; Li Shiyi's eyes, filled with the murkiness of perspiration, saw Song Shijiu let out a shout that could shake the mountains, sharp claws appearing at the tips of her fingers, her legs winding together, the tail within her skirts faintly discernible, her eyes red, her glare rending, the mark, splitting between her brows, emitting a heavy, blue and white colour.

She feared that Song Shijiu was going to use her original form to fight.

A Yao had some perception, and hurriedly called out to the Jiaolong; that Jiaolong ferociously swept Mulan to the side, treading on the fog to come over, a thousand jun heavy talons knocking Song Shijiu to the ground, and then firmly pressed her slim figure against the ground, its five digits curling, sinking into the ground, stopping the swaying rebellion of her body.

Of the spiritual beasts of antiquity, each had its own remarkable ability; when this Jiaolong's talons disciplined the gods as primal chaos, they were the shackles which restrained divine abilities.

Song Shijiu let out a wail like a beaten cat or dog, tearing at the heart and rending at the lungs, bringing along the whimper of an aggrieved beast.

Li Shiyi's mind trembled all at once; she wanted to speak, but when she took a breath, she coughed violently. Her trembling fingers wanted to command the Shentu command, yet a lack of strength caused the red sandalwood command token to fall to the ground; she could only pull the white silk to a distance with her corporeal body, crouching down, and draw out the short knife within her ankle boot, pulling the blade harshly against her own neck, the bloodied white silk instantly severed, bubbling blood rushing out from her neck; Li Shiyi only carelessly wiped at it, about to rush towards Song Shijiu.

The white silk once more attacked her, wrapping around Li Shiyi's ankle, tossing her harshly to the ground. Li Shiyi let out a muffled groan, her back knocking against a piece of stone, her spine seeming to be in the wrong position, causing her body to be like a rag, posture strange and dangling; the sharp pain that buried her rationality caused her jaw to be unable to help trembling, trembling such that her limbs and bones all seemed to have been invaded with a chill. She spat out a mouthful of blood, her eyelids already as swollen as peaches, yet she still wanted to stand. She'd only just taken a step when she staggered and fell, her legs already no longer able to continue, like two weak strips of meat; she could only roll over, laying by Song Shijiu. One of the Jiaolong's talons was about to smash down, and Li Shiyi closed her eyes, and then opened them once more, meeting Song Shijiu, cheeks streaming with tears, and blinking.

She didn't know why she blinked, but she didn't even have the strength to smile, and could only raise and lower her eyelids, closing and then parting them once more; it was the only comfort she could offer.

She often comforted Song Shijiu this way; with the embrace in the E Shou's cave, the blurted out explanation in the coffeeshop, and when she'd needed to dance with another at Xinyuesi, calmly and collectedly patting Song Shijiu's knee.

At this moment, she comforted Song Shijiu once more, using her utterly broken body to lay by her side, and her expressionless face's taciturn blink of the eyes.

Song Shijiu was wailing, gasping for air as she cried, her crying breaking and then rising again; she'd never before cried bitterly when losing, and just then, she'd narrowly been beated such that her original form emerged; she could only piece together the strength to utter "go fuck yourself", yet Li Shiyi's comfort caused her heart to ache, caused her bones to relax in a flash and she suddenly became aware that, actually, she was being incredibly vulgar; she didn't want any living and dying together; she still wanted Li Shiyi to survive.

Li Shiyi wanted to furrow her brows, but a twisted expression rose; she didn't have the strength to say anymore, and could only tilt her head, waiting for the Jiaolong's massive talon to shackle her.

With a "bang", something iron collided, and a flash of the thing's cold light struck the Jiaolong's talon, stopping it; it drew its claws back, raising its massive eyes to look; A Yao's white silk drew back, and she also raised her sickly, weak eyes to look as well.

On the utterly broken alley stood a trembling, swaying man, carrying a wicker basket atop his head; he wore torn, Western-style clothes which barely covered his body, and it wasn't clear if the flesh on his face was frightened or angry, but it was still shaking and beyond recognition. He looked terrified from head to toe, even his pupils massive, and, taking a step, he narrowly fell to his knees.

Tu Laoyao looked at that metal basin that had just been thrown, and then looked at the massive dragon before him; he'd never before seen a Jiaolong this large; it was even larger than that great python reported in the newspaper; previously, he had even bragged that he himself could beat up a fierce tiger, and now looking at it, he swallowed a mouthful of saliva noisily.

A mortal? A Yao returned to her wheelchair, paying careful attention and looking him over a good number of times, and furrowed her brows, utterly perplexed. The Jiaolong was about to extend its talons towards Li Shiyi once more, yet it heard Tu Laoyao shou out, "Don't move!"

Tu Laoyao, crouching, picked up a hoe. A Yao stared at him for a couple moments, and this time, she smiled wholeheartedly, her hand supporting her chin, blinking as she looked at him. Her fingers tapped against the wheelchair's arm one after another, and the sound of the tapping paused for a moment, and the Jiaolong's talons flicked Li Shiyi and sent her rolling; her clothes were barely covering her body as she fell onto a stone step by the street, as if she were an amusing object that had been fiddled with.

Fury arose from Tu Laoyao's gall, and he advanced a few steps, roaring, "Don't you fucking move!"

His voice was still trembling severely, but he wasn't afraid; he'd never before seen Shiyi-jie broken and humiliated into this state, and he knew in his heart he couldn't survive; since he had no chance of survival, he wasn't afraid of shit. So, he threw the wicker basket atop his head, and pointed at A Yao, anger flushing his eyes, and cursed, "You little girl, when your Tu-yeye speaks, you'd better listen!"

"Tu what?" A Yao asked.

"Tu Sanping," Tu Laoyao said, striking with the hoe.

A Yao swung her sleeve, waving, and that hoe changed directions, falling towards Li Shiyi's body with its gossamer strand of strength; with a snapping sound, it cut off her right shoulder.

Tu Laoyao didn't speak anymore, only silently staring at Li Shiyi's badly mangled face as if he'd never seen her before; he looked at her features carefully, remembering them firmly, and then he raised his eyelids, and laughed carelessly as was his custom, and raised his head, looking at A Yao.

He wasn't anxious anymore, nor terrified; with the heavily tilted posture of a loafer, habituated to the tops of the streets and the bottoms of the alleys, his other leg trembling without education, this was the confrontation between a god and a mortal, and the confrontation between one aloof and set up on high and one who was from all trades;^[5] he drew his neck back, drawing his hands into his cuffs; the Western sleeves were too small, and he couldn't comfortably put his hands away, and he could only put up with it.

"Tu Sanping," he repeated once more, and shamelessly laughed at A Yao, continuing, "I, Tu Sanping, am going to kill you."

He said it confidently, such that even A Yao couldn't help but grasp her wheelchair, yet Tu Laoyao chuckled cheerfully, bending to make the motions of a run-up, and in the clear, cold alley, the patter of muffled footsteps rose, followed by vibrating a "bang".

She saw Tu Laoyao's head knock against a solid stele, his stout body trembling; he seemed never to have thought of this sort of pain before, and even his flesh and blood shrank back in reaction, but he drew back and sat on the stone step, his blood-covered face fearless; his eyes were naturally small, but now, they could barely open, and he panted harsh breaths, blindly searching for Li Shiyi, his hand, grasping the Shentu command, trembling faintly.

People usually said that, when one was about to die, their words would be virtuous; he strove to draw them out, but he couldn't even say a single good thing, and even more, didn't know where he ought to anything from, only a single phrase remembered firmly.

That was still when they were in the Teng serpent's cave, and he'd hidden behind the massive boulder, watching as, for the first time, Li Shiyi became the haloed Bodhisattva, and heard A Luo say—with the sacrifice of three hun spirits, the Shentu would emerge.

He'd calculated it; Mulian, Yun Niang, and himself, Tu Laoyao, these three hun spirits were just enough.

Acording to the elderly, when the hun and po left the body, some consciousness could still survive in the body; he wanted to capture this consciousness, and take a look at the returning Ling Heng, take a look at how she'd beat this awful woman into a sorry defeat.

Tu Laoyao was somewhat proud of himself; sitting on the stone steps, he couldn't help but sing a ditty; his singing voice was even more offensive than the sound of butchering a pig, but he couldn't care about it much, only casually wiping at the blood on his face, spitting out a mouthful of ssaliva, and stretching his mouth wide and singing loudly.

"Ah, the glossy raven's temples—cut by a knife."

"Ah, the small lotus—on the narrow forehead."

Fearing to dress herself for her mother to find out; inevitably, the golden hairpin is inserted, half dishevelled and half askew.

In between the start and stop of the song, he felt a drowsiness attack from all around, as well as something else attacking from all sides; that was the ebbing and flowing sound of foreheads knocking against the ground; ten thousand ghosts, a thousand hun, the howl of wolves, the roar of tigers, divine notes, heavenly music; these sounds emerged from the tranquil, bleak winter's night, this clamorous, and this inappropriate, and even this contradictory and subtle, but they all knocked in this direction, like devout converts.

It wasn't the same as when Song Shijiu had returned; at that time, the countless beasts had been in jubilation, the multitude of insects breaking the ground open; when Ling Heng appeared, it was a peaceful, hidden rush, as if hundreds on thousands of a thousand strands of silk thread roaming over, interweaving in the tranquility in the middle, only waiting for that person to awaken from a deep sleep, and use her expression to softly raise them.

The Shentu command was the most loyal vanguard; with only the shifting of Ling Heng's fingers, it would return to her hand as if it had been caught.

Tu Laoyao's fingers, lacking strength, loosened, and in the dimness, he could see Li Shiyi's figure, which, before, had been unclear if it were alive or dead, slowly take on a layer of pale light; that light and shadow lifted her up, raising her into midair, the water lily that had been seen before beneath her body.

The water lily opened tranquilly and tenderly, as if wrapping up a newly-born infant, and as if pacifying a drifting returner; it reconstructed her body, filling her memories back in, raising the ridge of her brow slightly, her lips and nose becoming more clear and cold. The most colourful and vivid were her eyes, striping the smoke and fire of the mortal realm away, replacing it with the alienated mercy.

The rays of light gradually dissipated, and in the middle stood a calm, still, white-clad goddess; it was as if the period of her deep sleep bad been drawn ending, as if she'd been aroused; her abdomen was somewhat higher, the end of her head slightly fallen, and only once her eyes opened did she straighten her body, slowly alighting.

She still wore that white outfit, still had that bun, still had that same expression; the only thing not there was the ever-burning lamp carried in her hand.

Tu Laoyao's consciousness had been diluted, the sleeves of his clothes moving faintly; Ling Heng walked over, and he grinned, gazing at her hands, and said, "Again…"

We've met again.

I am Tu Sanping.

My father was named Tu Erwang, and my grandfather was named Tu Yixing.

My father said, humans life a single life, muddleheaded and careless. My father said, the poor have the happiness of the poor, and the rich have the worries of the rich. My father said, your grandfather is insane, and you'd better not provoke him.

My grandfather liked to carry me about and speak nonsense.

My grandfather said, our ancestor was a person of importance; his two character surname was Shentu, and afterwards, he was defeated, and couldn't support such a great surname, and because others always said this surname was strange, he changed it to Tu.

A mortal who lives a single life, muddle-headed and careless; that Tu.^[6]

I've passed my life in a most certainly muddleheaded and careless way; in the night, I visit tombs, and in the day, I wander the streets and alleys, ridiculing the baozi Chen and bragging with the pork meat Zhang. Until I pissed while guarding a tomb, and met Shiyi-jie.

The events afterwards, Shiyi-jie knows all of them. The only thing she doesn't know is, that day I saw the Shentu command, I went home and asked my wife: what was it that my grandfather said our ancestor's surname was?

She thought for half a night, and when the skies glimmered with the first light, she said to me: Shentu.

I couldn't say what relationship there is between them, but there's always been some connection; otherwise, how would I always be concerned with Li Shiyi?

Only until today, when I saw Ling Heng, did I remember the key between them; originally, my grandfather was a tassel on the Shentu command, and that day that Ling Heng fought with Zhu Long, and Zhu Long used a time turning trick to turn it to the Ming period, that tassel was carelessly knocked off, and, thenceforth, entered the wheel of reincarnation.

It's just that I don't know why our bloodline fell into such a terrible state; my father was a coward, my grandfather was a lunatic, and I'm both a coward and a lunatic.

Tu Sishun won't have by words and example; he ought to be a bit better.

I'm called Tu Sanping, called Shentu Sanping.

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Translator's notes:

[1]: The raws read 蓬发戴狌 while the Shanhaijing reads 蓬发戴胜. The difference in final character makes the former read rather strangely, so I've elected to go with the Shanhaijing's version, because that's what's being referenced anyway.

[2]: 蛟龙, a legendary dragon which controls rain and floods.

[3]: A major imperial palace during the Western Han in the city of Chang'an (modern Xi'an).

[4]: 负隅地抗 (fu yu di kang), specifically when relying on a strategically inaccessible place or some other means.

[5]: 三教九流, literally "Three Religions and Nine Schools" (Daoism, Confucianism, Buddhism, and Confucians, Daoists, Yin-Yang, Legalists, Logicians, Mohists, Political Strategists, Eclecticts, and Agriculturalists), and when describing someone usually used derogatorily.

[6]: The character 涂, which is Tu Laoyao's surname, appears in the four-character phrase 稀里糊涂, here translated as "muddleheaded and careless".