Volume One: The Dragon Rises in the Wilderness Chapter 108: Such a Virtuous Man

The next morning, the boat continued its journey along the waterway.

A fine drizzle began to fall from the sky once again.

Meng Qingqing still sat at the bow of the boat holding an umbrella.

She did not disdain the cramped cabin; rather, she refused to squeeze together with the common villagers. Though she disguised herself as a peasant girl, she could not shed the pride ingrained in her bones.

Qi Chun, the boatman, was unusually excited. He tore off his shirt, baring his back to the rain, letting the droplets soak his bronze-hued skin, revealing a wild strength. Perhaps unable to contain his feelings, he suddenly lifted his head and shouted—

“What night is this, to meet such a fine person? Oh, my beloved, such a fine person…”

His shout carried the accent of the southern Great Marshes, unintelligible to the others, but it sounded like the howl of a wild wolf in autumn, a rustic dog in spring, or a mountain dove in summer—raw and frenzied, with a hint of urgent lament.

Yu Ye sat near the stern under the boat’s canopy, beside four traveling merchants and a young couple.

The four merchants were middle-aged men, each with a travel pack slung at their waists. Though differing in age and appearance, they all behaved with steadiness, shrewdness, and caution.

They knew one another well and were headed to Gaoliang Town to jointly purchase a batch of goods.

The young couple, visiting relatives, looked tidy and clean. The woman was sixteen or seventeen, hair adorned with silver flowers, delicate features, wearing new clothes, carrying a parcel in her crook. The man was in his early twenties, clad in coarse cloth, his smile simple and sincere, sticking close to her as if deeply affectionate.

Yu Ye closed his eyes to rest, quietly contemplating his cultivation method, but the cries disturbed him. He glanced toward the bow, past the cabin’s occupants, his gaze settling on the stern and Qi Laoda, the elder boatman, who was rowing.

On the stern deck lay daily supplies. At the very end was a peculiar oar, difficult to comprehend but capable of steering the wooden boat left or right, controlled personally by Qi Laoda.

Qi Laoda had an honest, taciturn face. Though only in his forties, his visage was weathered, a testament to the hardships and struggles of life on the river.

The sky remained overcast, the rain misty and thick.

The boat moved through the water, the scenery on both banks obscured, the only sounds those of oars slicing the water and Qi Chun’s beast-like howling…

By noon, the drizzle persisted. There was no place to dock, so the boat pressed onward.

At dusk, the sky finally cleared, the long days of gloom slowly dissipating as a joyful rosy glow spread across the horizon.

Qi Laoda and his son put away the oars and lowered the mooring ropes.

The boat came to rest in a tranquil river cove. Along the bank’s grassy edge, wheel ruts and posts for tying ropes were visible.

This was a secluded ferry crossing.

Everyone disembarked, surrounded by thick woods and dense undergrowth. The rain had left the ground muddy and slippery, with nowhere else to go, so they gathered on the riverside grass.

Qi Laoda set up a stove at the bow as usual to cook their evening meal. Qi Chun bustled about as well, though the damp firewood produced thick smoke that made him cough repeatedly. He covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief, while Qi Laoda fanned the smoke away with a palm-leaf fan.

At last, Meng Qingqing set aside her umbrella and stood beside Yu Ye at the shore.

In the twilight, curling smoke drifted over the river, enveloping them in a misty veil, the scene hazy and dreamlike.

“Like a fairyland,” Meng Qingqing whispered softly.

“Have you seen a fairyland?” Yu Ye asked with curiosity.

“Unreal and unfathomable, ethereal and elusive. In such a place, heaven and earth are forgotten along with one’s true self. The scenery so serenely beautiful—how could it not be like a fairyland?”

“Oh.”

“Yu Ye, what does your imagined fairyland look like?”

“I’ve never thought about it.”

“What good is imagining now, in this moment?”

Yu Ye looked toward the nearby boat, the father and son busy on deck, and the drifting smoke. He folded his arms, propping his chin with one hand, and mused aloud in a low voice: “My fairyland… a pond of water, a few acres of land, two houses, a few fruit trees…”

“Pfft!” Meng Qingqing covered her mouth, laughing as she interrupted, “And isn’t there supposed to be a dog, maybe three or five chickens?”

“Mm.” Yu Ye nodded.

“That’s not a fairyland at all; it’s clearly your Yu family village,” she smiled wistfully and continued, “My imagined fairyland is clothed in clouds and rainbows, with morning dew as wine, everlasting youth and immortality…”

Yu Ye fell silent.

Though he had traveled far and wide, his knowledge and dreams still revolved around Xingyuan Valley and the small village within it.

Meng Qingqing’s imagination was more beautiful and enchanting.

Indeed, to wear clouds as garments and drink dew as wine, never aging—perhaps that truly was the life of immortals. Yet, isn’t the path of cultivation precisely the immortal way? So far, why has it only brought conflict and slaughter?

“Everyone, time to eat!” Qi Chun called out, carrying a bowl of hot soup to Meng Qingqing.

Despite the young man’s earnestness, flattering smile, and burning gaze, Meng Qingqing remained unmoved and politely declined.

Yu Ye reached out, but no one paid him any attention, so he took out his wine flask and pretended to drink.

After dinner, Qi Laoda lit a fire on the shore to ward off snakes and insects. Yet, the damp wood produced thick smoke that choked the group. Even Meng Qingqing coughed lightly. Qi Laoda hastily apologized while fanning the smoke away.

Unfazed by the threat of snakes, Yu Ye sat quietly nearby, intending to secretly practice his cultivation with a spirit stone. Suddenly, he paused, sensing something strange in the drifting smoke.

At the same moment, Meng Qingqing swayed and collapsed softly to the ground, eyes half-closed, breathing shallowly as if intoxicated.

Not only her, but the merchants and young couple near the fire also fell one after another.

Qi Laoda and Qi Chun remained unaffected, their expressions sinister—one’s gaze dark and fierce, the other grinning widely with smug delight.

Before Yu Ye could understand what was happening, his vision blurred, his head drooped, and he slowly slumped to the ground.

“Haha, got them!” Qi Chun laughed, then cursed, “Qi Laoda, I nearly fell for your trick!”

Qi Laoda dumped a bucket of water on the fire, rolling his eyes. “The wind on the boat made the poison smoke ineffective. Serves you right for losing your head over a woman and getting knocked out.”

Qi Chun eagerly approached Meng Qingqing’s prone form, rubbing his hands and eyes shining with desire. “Such a fine person, such a fine moment, haha…”

The woman had caught his eye the moment she boarded the boat. Along the journey, she had constantly fluttered her umbrella in front of him, teasing him mercilessly. Now that his plan had succeeded, he was ready to indulge himself.

But Qi Laoda said, “Let the Daoist inspect her first. Don’t start anything else yet. Otherwise, don’t blame me for not warning you!”

At the mention of the “Daoist,” Qi Chun hesitated. He grabbed Meng Qingqing, slinging her over his shoulder, then seized Yu Ye under his arm, turning away from the river cove.

Qi Laoda unfastened the packs of the four merchants, revealing a dozen or so silver ingots that he took aboard the boat to hide. He then grabbed one person each and strode across the grassy cove toward the dense forest.

Deep within the woods lay a stone house covered in vines and wild grass, resembling a large earthen mound and quite concealed.

Qi Laoda moved with familiarity, kicking open the door and entering.

Inside, the space was not small—about fifteen feet square. Several oil lamps burned, illuminating wooden tables, stools, jars, and containers. Clothes were piled in a corner, and two people lay on the floor—a man and a woman. Another shirtless man, Qi Chun, was inspecting them with desire in his eyes.

“Bang!”

Qi Laoda tossed the two captives to the ground and kicked one of them. Taken by surprise, Qi Chun sprang up, glancing back before turning to follow Qi Laoda out.

The stone house had another door, but it was tightly shut.

Soon, Qi Laoda and Qi Chun returned, each dragging two people behind them, then stood aside waiting.

All eight passengers from the boat lay on the floor, unconscious.

“Ah…”

A groan suddenly echoed within the room.

Qi Laoda and Qi Chun looked surprised.

Meng Qingqing slowly opened her eyes and awoke. She propped herself up, brow furrowed, eyes wandering about in confusion.

She still felt dizzy and disoriented, as if waking from a terrible nightmare. The nightmare had passed, but now she found herself in an unfamiliar place.

Her clothes were intact, her storage ring still on.

“Yu Ye—” Meng Qingqing called urgently.

Yu Ye lay beside her, unresponsive. The merchants and young couple also remained unconscious nearby.

Her gaze locked on Qi Laoda and Qi Chun, and fury flared. “Base villains, you seek death…” She was eager to slay them but found herself powerless—unable even to stand, much less wield her spirit energy freely.

Qi Laoda and Qi Chun, initially worried, relaxed with her awakening.

“Haha, you’ve fallen for the soul-separating smoke. Within twelve hours, you’re as good as dead.”

“This woman is strange—how did she wake?”

“No matter how strange, I’ll make sure she obeys…”

Meng Qingqing was anxious and angry.

Soul-separating smoke? Nothing but a lowly martial trick, a rogue’s gambit.

Yet here she was, a cultivator, caught by worldly trickery. Yu Ye had also been caught; she now faced the crisis alone.

In her distress, she demanded, “Who exactly are you two? How dare you threaten my life?”

“I share the same surname as Qi Laoda,” Qi Chun answered, “We claim to be father and son only to gain the trust of customers. Otherwise, after years of ferrying, we’d have been exposed long ago. Don’t worry, I won’t kill you—what I want is your body. I love how you twirl that umbrella and tease me. Truly beautiful, haha…”

Qi Chun’s laughter died down somewhat but remained filled with arrogant delight.

Qi Laoda shook his head indifferently. “Miss, you shouldn’t have woken. It would have been better if you’d died confused. Now you’ve only added sorrow—why suffer needlessly?”

Meng Qingqing scorned, “You’ve ferried across these waters for years, harming countless innocents…”

“No!” Qi Laoda shook his head again. “The Daoist said we ferry souls through reincarnation, bringing life and death, performing great cosmic deeds!”

“Daoist?” Meng Qingqing was taken aback.

Suddenly, a voice spoke—

“Guiding fate, ferrying souls, remaking life and death, the way of reincarnation.”

At the same moment, the tightly shut door slowly opened, and a figure stepped out…