La tumba de Qin Shi Huang

Capítulo 16

Brother Ma stopped talking, as if he understood a little. But Mrs. Ma didn't understand. Seeing how we seemed to be in sync, she felt a little flustered and suddenly pushed me, saying, "What kind of sweet talk are you trying to give me now?"

I almost tripped and fell, and Brother Ma quickly reached out to help me. I reached out to put my hand on his arm. Mrs. Ma was even more displeased and stepped in to separate our hands. As the three of us were tugging at each other, suddenly someone leaped out of the air and shouted, "Hey, you surnamed Ma, stop!" The voice was like a thunderclap in our ears. We were startled and looked up to see Luo Yi appear out of nowhere, radiating starlight and speaking with a thunderous tongue, like a superstar.

Disciples of the Free and Unfettered Sect

I cheered and said, "Big brother, how did you get out? Little Ma said he was David Copperfield and made you disappear. I was worried. Big brother, you're so handsome. You should play Zhang Wuji, or maybe The Matrix." To be honest, Luo Yi leaping out in the rain really does resemble Keanu Reeves fighting a hundred blacksmiths Smiths in the rain.

Luo Yi, ignoring me, appeared and pounced on Little Ma, grabbing his collar and throwing him behind his head. Little Ma, as light as a swallow flying a kite, landed on the roof of Fisherman's Wharf, on the crabs and lobsters, and with a bump, actually got on their strings, and those two enormous pincers of the cephalothorax started moving again. In the pitch-black rain and mist, the neon lights flashed so brightly, it was truly eerie.

I clapped my hands and shouted, "Big Brother is so handsome! Go Big Brother! Big Brother, that move you used is called 'Eagle Binding Rabbit,' you're a master of the Eagle Claw Sect. Luo Yi, Luo Yi, I love you, like a mouse loves rice. Luo Yi, Luo Yi, you're the strongest, you're the best in the world!" I blurted out a couple of the most common slogans used by fans, and it felt like I was reliving the feeling of chasing stars back in the day. These past few days, I've spent day and night with Luo Yi, and I almost forgot how glorious and radiant he once was.

Little Ma was caught off guard by the fall. He probably hadn't suffered such a loss since his debut. This sudden blow left him a bit bewildered. He stood up, dazed, and pointed at Luo Yi in the parking lot, cursing, "You, Luo Yi, you've attacked me from behind!" He then took a step in mid-air and landed steadily as if supported by a cloud.

I've never been a staunch fan of any particular film; I only watch movies based on whichever one is good. I'm very fickle. Just a moment ago I was cheering for Luo Yi's over-the-shoulder throw, but as soon as I saw Xiao Ma's "Ladder Cloud Leap," I immediately changed my tune and shouted, "Xiao Ma, that move was beautiful! You're from Wudang!" After saying that, I covered my mouth with my hand.

Luo Yi glanced at me with a grin and said, "Whose side are you on?" He had defeated the gang leader who had been bullying him with a single move, and he was in a good mood, so he wasn't angry that I had switched sides.

I quickly stood in line and said, "Of course I'll help you, you're my older brother. But respecting your opponent is respecting yourself, so let's not be stingy. Sharing a little applause with him is fine. Brother, where did you go? How come you disappeared for a while and then learned kung fu? Did you go to Mount Emei or Shaolin Temple?" The idea of going up a mountain to learn kung fu is an old and outdated plot in our martial arts novels, so clichéd it's beyond redemption. But Hollywood finds it very novel and admires it greatly. So they had Uma Thurman, with her blonde hair and fair skin, go up a mountain in "Kill Bill," carrying a bucket of well water, speaking fluent Mandarin, and even being scolded in Cantonese by an old man with a white beard in a mountain in Guangdong, who said, "Your Mandarin is so awful, why don't you speak Mandarin?"

I sell rice cakes. You old rice cake seller.

(Translation: My goodness! You old geezer. Note: "Old geezer" means "very old and frail" or "old rice cake seller." It comes from Mr. Su Wenmao's crosstalk "Help Me," in which there is a segment criticizing the Three Kingdoms period, saying that three people in the Three Kingdoms were small business owners: Liu Bei sold straw sandals, Zhang Fei sold meat, and in the end, "all five tiger generals are gone, only Zhao Zilong is old and frail." Zhao Yun, the old rice cake seller, never sold anything else.)

Seeing how easily Little Ma got down, I quietly said to Luo Yi, "Brother, where did you go to learn your skills? Can you beat him? Their rule here is that if you defeat him, you become the boss. You've had enough of his bullying, why not rise up and become the boss yourself?" Afraid he wouldn't be tempted, I added, "Little Ma wants me to be his concubine. Look how powerful his first wife is, how could I possibly be her match? Brother, you have to help me. Why would I abandon my husband and son to become someone's concubine? There's no such dark society." Actually, Little Ma wanted me to be his wife, not some shameful concubine. But if I didn't exaggerate and portray him as a tyrant, I couldn't vent my anger.

Luo Yi stared intently at Little Ma with her beautiful eyes and replied, "Don't worry, I came from the Wuli River. The energy of the entire river is on me. I won't let him go." She raised her voice to Little Ma and said, "Hey Ma, I've been dissatisfied with you before, but back then you were powerful and ruthless, and I was no match for you. Now we're both ghosts, with no backing. You don't have a gun to my back forcing me to make movies, and I don't have to worry about your thugs beating my face. We're evenly matched now, so let's have a proper fight. Whoever loses is a loser, and whoever wins is the boss."

Little Ma sneered, "You dare to compete with me? You only managed a sneak attack earlier. Did you really think I'm someone who only has a gun and no fists? Come on, come and fight!" He stepped forward and threw a left hook at Luo Yi's chin. Luo Yi dodged it with a tilt of his head, shifted his feet, and circled to Little Ma's side, aiming a kick at Little Ma's knee. If that kick landed, Little Ma would immediately fall off one leg. But Little Ma was also a trained fighter. Seeing that the kick was about to hit, he spun around and rammed his shoulder into Luo Yi's chest. Luo Yi ducked, and the kick missed.

I shouted "Bravo!" and stepped back three paces to watch. The two were back at it in the blink of an eye, kicking and shoving, the action as spectacular as any martial arts film. Both were ghosts, so their movements were incredibly graceful, their postures elegant, their leaps and bounds effortless, their tumbles ethereal. No wires, no stunt doubles, one move after another. No face-plants, no headbutts, no mishaps, no laughter. They were like two martial arts brothers practicing their skills, each move deadly yet leaving room for maneuver, a truly beautiful sight. To paraphrase Jin Yong, they were like butterflies fluttering among flowers, embodying the word "free and unrestrained" to its fullest extent, leaving me mesmerized.

Mrs. Ma wasn't as engrossed as I was. She watched intently, gritting her teeth, her face contorted, every emotion on display, terrified that Mr. Ma would be at a disadvantage. While watching the fight, I kept an eye on her, maintaining a high level of vigilance. Someone like Mrs. Ma, who clearly doesn't read the classic martial arts novels of Jin Yong, Gu Long, Liang Yusheng, Wen Ruian, and Huang Yi, wouldn't understand the appeal of a good fight. Perhaps, out of concern for her husband, she might impulsively rush into their midst, disrupting this rare spectacle, a sight unseen even in the ghost realm.

I wasn't the only one who found the fight exciting; many invisible ghosts were so engrossed in watching that they forgot to conceal themselves and revealed themselves. I seized the opportunity to fan the flames, saying, "It's a PK! It's a PK! A fight for the hilltop! Whoever wins becomes the boss!" The ghosts nodded in agreement, and I was overjoyed. I could almost see Luo Yi, draped in a black-faced, red-lined "One Bell" cloak, standing at the head of the Wuli River, waving and looking incredibly cool.

I glanced at the audience, then at the field, and then at Mrs. Ma and the spectators. I noticed a problem that I needed to address. Then I saw that the young man from the May Fourth Movement was standing next to me, so I said to him, "Classmate, keep an eye on this woman for me. If she dares to go up and cause trouble, stop her."

The May Fourth Youth said somewhat awkwardly, "Isn't it inconvenient? She's a lady, how can I stop her?"

I never expected someone from the May Fourth Movement to have such a dull mind. I said irritably, "Who told you to hug or hold her? Just hook her leg and make her trip and fall, that's all. She's a ghost, she won't get hurt. You'd better watch out for her. If she runs into something, you'll be in trouble later. I'll see what I do to you."

The May Fourth Movement youth shook their heads and muttered, "How did young women become like this? If we had known this would happen, we would have been better off not having a revolution."

I spat at him, too lazy to argue, and walked towards a discordant spot I'd noticed. There stood a boy, about twelve or thirteen, wearing round glasses and a thin, transparent raincoat that cost only a dollar at the park entrance, revealing a large black T-shirt underneath with a white GHOST logo. He wore cropped shorts and flip-flops, holding a small DV camera, his mouth agape, his face full of excitement, watching this impossible competition on the small screen. I slipped over and whispered, "Which school are you in? What grade are you in?"

He didn't even glance at me, nor did he raise his head, and said, "I'm from No. 1 Middle School, I'll be in the second year of junior high when school starts. What about you?"

I said, "I go to a girls' school, and I'll be a junior in high school next semester. Who do you think will win between them?"

The little boy said, "The one who wears glasses will win."

I, Angry Bird, said, "The one wearing glasses will lose."

The little boy said, "The one who wears glasses will win. Let's make a bet."

I said, "Okay, let's bet. I bet your DV camera will break in the rain, and not a single shot will be saved. If you break it, your mom will spank you. But first of all, if you go out in this rain, you'll catch a cold and fever before your mom even spanks you properly. Aren't you going home?! Didn't the TV warn people not to go out in this kind of weather?" What a brat, what are you doing causing trouble?

The kid was also furious, saying, "You brat, what's it to you? You're a sophomore, so what? You think you can take my place? I'm from No. 1 High School, and I'm a member of the Seven Stars faction. Places like yours are nothing to us. Give me your name, and we'll come find you for a one-on-one fight when school starts."

I said, "Pah! There are seven of you in the Seven Stars Sect, aren't there? You want to challenge me to a one-on-one fight? You actually have the nerve to say that? If you really dare to come, let's have a fight today."

The little kid wasn't one to act recklessly. He looked around and said, "There are so many people here. If they see a guy like me bullying a girl, they'll definitely help you. I'm not falling for your tricks." He then said, "Look at those two fighting in the rain. Are they filming a movie? I don't see a cameraman or director."

I threatened him, saying, "They're hiding and filming, aren't you just causing trouble here? It's finally raining, there are no onlookers, and we don't need to call in fire trucks to make it rain artificially. What a great opportunity, why aren't you helping out?"

The little boy seemed to believe him a little, and kept arguing, "No one's coming to kick me out, why should I leave?"

I straightened my expression and said, "I didn't come here to kick you out. I'm here to work part-time during the summer, otherwise why would I argue with you? Hurry up and go, the humidity is so high in the rain, the DV camera is really going to break."

The little boy looked up at me, smiled, and said, "What's your name? I'll come find you when school starts, and you can treat me to a Big Mac."

I laughed and said, "OK, no problem. So, what's your name first?"

The little boy told me his name, and I just made one up on the spot. We said goodbye as if we'd known each other forever, and he left reluctantly. I wasn't relieved until he rode away on his little bike. Later, when he turns on the DV camera and can't see any footage, he'll just assume the camera malfunctioned because of the rain. If he tells adults all sorts of nonsense, they'll just think he's a child with a vivid imagination and won't take it seriously. Otherwise, what would happen if a precious little flower of our nation were inexplicably frightened by a bunch of strange ghosts on a rainy day? If he gets home with a fever and cough, even better; they'll just think it was a dream.

I sent the kids away and then looked back at the arena. Luo Yi and Xiao Ma were locked in an increasingly fierce fight, while Mrs. Xiao Ma was indeed being held back by the May Fourth Movement youths. After watching for a while, I shouted, "Brother, what's going on? Why can't they kill each other? Every punch they throw lands is brutal, leaving people bloodied and bruised, with teeth and blood flying everywhere. How come this fight between ghosts has no winner? When will it ever end?"

Luo Yi didn't have time to pay attention to me. He just kept using the fancy moves he had learned on set to attack Little Ma. Little Ma, however, said calmly, "Fighting for three days and three nights won't get us anywhere, unless someone gets tired of it and gives up. That's how I got here back then."

Holy crap, so Brother Ma became the boss through sheer endurance? I guess he really has something special about him. I said, "Brother Ma, did you used to train for marathons? Three days straight! That's impressive." No way, I have to figure out a way to finish this fight as quickly as possible. He has that kind of patience, but I don't. I have some incredibly important things to do. What's the point of watching two ghosts fight?

I whispered to the successful man in the suit next to me, "This ghost can't die, it can't be injured, it can't lose blood, and it can't consume energy. How can we defeat it?" This question can only be asked of people from the same era. People from a slightly more ancient time wouldn't know what losing blood or energy means. My assumption is that this man in the suit has at least played Contra Tank Battle.

Successful people say, "I've heard that if you know how someone died, you can subdue them by attacking their weakest point."

I laughed and said, "Thank you, brother. Do you mind if I ask how you died?"

The successful man laughed and said, "I don't mind. I died of alcohol poisoning from alcoholic liver disease. In business, it's inevitable to show off at the dinner table. I drank too much and died. What about you, miss?"

I said with a worried look, "My soul and body are separated, I'm not completely dead. I'm in a hurry to go back and be resurrected, but Brother Ma refuses to help me. He wants me to be his wife. Can you believe how unlucky I am?"

The successful man laughed again and said, "That's really strange. Do you know how Little Ma died?"

I shook my head and said I didn't know, then immediately regretted it so much I wanted to bang my head against the wall. Why didn't I check the news more carefully? Someone as powerful as him died; surely it would have been in the headlines, right? I usually only read the supplements and gossip sections; I really do regret not having read more when I needed it. Then a thought flashed through my mind, and I ran to Mrs. Ma's side, casually asking, "Brother Ma died unjustly, so young, what a pity. He even dragged you down with him."

Just as Brother Ma had said before, Mrs. Ma was easily swayed by his words. She sighed and said, "That's right, Brother Ma was not even thirty-five years old when he died."

I sighed with regret and said, "What a tragedy! I wonder how Little Ma died? Was it a gang shootout or a police raid?"

When asked about her sad story, Mrs. Ma sobbed, "It's the fish bones..." Before she could finish, she started crying again.

I paused for a moment, then said, "Fish bones?"

Mrs. Ma wiped away her tears and said, "He had a fish bone stuck in his throat before, and it took more than a month to get treatment. His throat got injured and inflamed, and even after it healed, it left a lingering problem. Then one time when he was eating fish, a fish bone got stuck in the same spot again. I wasn't with him that time; he went out to sea alone to an island to fish, grill, and eat fish. He got stuck there, and no one helped him, so... he died from it..."

It's truly... truly... truly tragic; it's truly... truly gratifying! A powerful underworld boss, who could command the winds and rains, actually died from a tiny fishbone stuck in his throat. He ran a seafood restaurant, killing countless fish, consuming countless shark fins, and harming countless lives. Truly, karma is reaping what it sows; retribution is inevitable.

I almost burst out laughing.

Those who do evil will not live long.

Fish bones. Hehe, Fisherman's Wharf is basically a seafood restaurant, finding a fish bone shouldn't be difficult, right? Based on all the descriptions in movies, TV shows, and novels, as well as the real-life sources, I quickly slipped into the back alley of the restaurant's kitchen. Sure enough, there were several trash cans as big as tar barrels. I opened one of the cans, pointed two fingers, picked out a standard piece of fish bone, rinsed it under a tap, and carried it to the parking lot.

The so-called standard fishbone comb is the kind you see in cartoons, or on little girls' hair clips, keychains, and backpacks—like a wooden comb with teeth on both sides, a type of fine-toothed comb you could occasionally find back in the day. In Tom and Jerry, Tom would rummage through the trash before going to see his girlfriend, finding a fishbone comb to brush his cat's hair. My fellow students, knowledge is power! There's knowledge in cartoons too! I found power in the trash can!

Luo Yi and Xiao Ma were still fighting in the parking lot, while more than half of the onlookers had already left. Of course, what's the point of watching a fight? It starts off exciting, but in the end, it's just the same old story—either one side prevails over the other. We only ever care about the result; the process is the most boring and annoying part.

I hid the hand holding the fishbone behind my back and stood next to Mrs. Ma, saying, "Why don't you find somewhere to shelter from the rain? Look at you, your clothes are all wet, and that long skirt is dragging in the rain—it's uncomfortable and doesn't look good. Why didn't you wear a raincoat? You should dress up nicely; don't always wear the same thing. Men aren't interested anymore." It was as if I had many men. Seeing that Mrs. Ma seemed a little tempted, I added, "A lecherous man like Brother Ma would definitely like brightly colored, stylish skirts that only reach his thighs. Look, it's the little cheongsam that Director Zhang wore in the eight minutes at Athens—it's beautiful. If I weren't so flat-chested, I'd have one custom-made. It'd be irresistible to men." I really thought that little cheongsam was quite nice—a rustic-looking floral quilt cover, a waist cut that couldn't be tighter, and a hem that couldn't be shorter. The woman dressed like this had a sweet smile like a middle school girl, her dance steps were as lively as a traditional Guozhuang dance, and her fair thighs were dazzling, perfectly combining innocence and allure. It was like the neighbor's daughter suddenly transforming into a courtesan; the transformation in between automatically fueled the imagination. Women dressed up by men were the goddesses of their imaginations; if a woman wanted to attract a man's attention, following their lead was sure to be the right thing to do.

So women shouldn't be poisoned by the ideas of those "Yi Shu" (a famous Chinese novelist) and shouldn't aspire to be like them. White shirts, khaki pants, flats, stainless steel Oyster watches—they might look chic, but how do they make a man appear tall, handsome, and extraordinary? Mrs. Ma always wears the same wedding dress; she looks more like a ghost than a woman. The other night, that hostess in the bright red cheongsam—the slit went all the way up to her thigh, her figure undulating from the side—that's the kind of woman men dream of! Otherwise, why would Brother Ma flirt with her in front of all the ghosts?

Mrs. Ma listened to my ramblings. She looked down at her drab, drab white wedding dress, and seemed to understand. She said, "Oh, is that so? I'll go change. What do you think I should wear?"

I said, "You can't go wrong if you dress like Maggie Cheung in 'In the Mood for Love'." Luckily, the costume designer for that film was Cheung Suk-ping, not Master Yip, otherwise, who knows, they would have stuck on two chicken feathers or inserted countless red double happiness symbols. A perfectly good art film would have turned into a horror film mixed with a comedy.

Mrs. Ma turned around happily and walked away, then turned back and said, "There's a handmade cheongsam shop over there called 'Shanghai Bund,' I'll go find one to try on."

I'll add one more thing: "Don't forget to bring an umbrella. Don't actually wear a raincoat outside, or you won't be able to show off your great figure."

I was overjoyed when I managed to coax Mrs. Ma away. Although my actions were somewhat despicable, my intentions were good. I was afraid that Brother Ma would blame her for revealing the cause of his death, and I was also afraid that Mrs. Ma wouldn't be able to handle such a blow, would wallow in self-pity, and might cause some trouble. I was also afraid that if they both found out I was behind it all, they would both take their anger out on me, and I would be in big trouble.

Once Mrs. Ma was out of sight, I took my trump card, the deadly weapon, and walked into the arena. After thinking for a moment, I said to Luo Yi, "Brother, Armani chair."

Luo Yi was engrossed in his fight when I uttered this inexplicable remark. Completely bewildered, he raised his arm to block Little Ma's series of double kicks, protecting his head and face, and turned back to ask, "What?"

I smiled and repeated, "An Armani armchair." Back in the days when we were in the Misty Frontier, running our overpopulation company, calculating market share, we'd lean against each other for a nap when we got tired. He once said he was an Armani armchair, asking if I wanted to make do. I did for many days and was quite satisfied with this brand of armchair. Now, the situation is critical, and I need to pass on a deadly weapon that could kill Little Ma. Of course, I can't openly praise it to his face, so I have to use coded language to communicate secretly. However, since we hadn't communicated beforehand, any talk of running away in a crisis is useless. I had to choose a story we both understand to use as a pretext. I believe Luo Yi's comprehension is top-notch; otherwise, he wouldn't have reached the position of a superstar.

Sure enough, a look of realization flashed in Luo Yi's eyes. He leaped up and unleashed a series of lightning-fast kicks, forcing Little Ma to retreat and standing back-to-back with me. I shoved the standard fishbone into his hand and whispered, "Stab his throat." Then I stepped back. Women shouldn't get involved in men's fights; let them save face. Xia Ye didn't interfere in Luo Yi's fight either, lest this little beauty subdue Little Ma with the fishbone dagger and inadvertently become the boss here, making it impossible for her to leave.

Luo Yi found this strange weapon quite odd, but he had always trusted my abilities. Since I had given him a fish bone and mentioned Little Ma's weakness, there must be a reason. Holding the fish bone with the same confidence as if he were wielding the legendary sword Yitian or the Dragon-Slaying Saber, he leaped and bounded towards Little Ma. First, he drew a circle with his left palm to distract Little Ma, then his right hand swiftly struck out, the fish bone in his hand plunging horizontally into Little Ma's throat, embedding itself as easily as cutting tofu.

This is a move called "The Dragon Regrets Its Ascent".

Luo Yi, you truly deserve to be a superstar of your caliber. Every move you make is so pleasing to the eye. The move you use to defeat your opponent is actually an extremely masculine palm technique, the "Regretful Dragon" which is akin to the extreme of yang giving rise to yin.

A perfect victory.

Little Ma initially looked down on this seemingly skilled but ultimately incompetent opponent, so he didn't stop our illegal activities, whether we were exchanging information privately or just sharing it verbally, he simply pretended not to see it. I know he's always looked down on Luo Yi, seeing him as nothing more than a money-making machine for him, and I think he wouldn't value my cunning and intelligence either. In his eyes, women are just tools for pleasure. Today, he suddenly went crazy and wanted me to be his wife, just for a moment of novelty and fun, not necessarily because he values any real ability I have.

Just as Chen Xuanfeng died by the sword of six-year-old Guo Jing, Little Ma was defeated by the fishbone thorn of playboy Luo Yi. He clutched his neck, choking back sobs, only managing broken "clunk" sounds, his eyes filled with disbelief, surprise, and horror. He stumbled back a few steps, then fell to the ground in the rain, utterly disheveled. On the collar of his snow-white shirt lay a whole fishbone, lodged across his Lianquan acupoint. It had a head and a tail, not a single spine missing.

That's right. I'm such a picky person, how could I tolerate such a crucial item being missing barbs or broken ends, like a worn-out comb with missing teeth?

A perfectly intact fishbone was elegantly inserted into the neck of the handsome man. The despair and anger in the man's eyes pierced through the rain curtain, which shimmered with a dark and evil cold light as it fell from the sky to the ground. The man lay on his back in it, knowing that all was lost.

What a visually striking scene! It's a pity no one has drawn it or taken a picture to preserve it.

Little Ma collapsed in the rain, writhing in pain as if he were once again teetering on the brink of death. He pulled out a fish bone and threw it aside, still unable to speak, glaring at Luo Yi with a mixture of grief and indignation.

Luo Yi didn't know if his pretentious "Dragon's Regret" move was actually effective, nor did he understand why the fishbone could kill the enemy. He just stared blankly at Brother Ma on the ground, then bent down and asked, "Brother Ma, what's wrong?"

Although I knew it would end this way, the fact that it happened so quickly and decisively still startled me. My first thought was: thank goodness I got Mrs. Pony away, otherwise I don't know how much she would have cried and made a scene.

The few ghosts who remained saw this scene and didn't say much. They just came over and patted Luo Yi on the shoulder, saying, "From now on, it's up to you." Then the ghosts lined up to pat Luo Yi on the shoulder, as if performing a ritual. From then on, Luo Yi became the boss here.

After the successful man patted Luo Yi on the shoulder, he smiled at me, and I smiled back. We both tacitly kept quiet about it.

A ghost whispered, saying that this was the first time in a long time that they had seen the shift handover completed so quickly. It added that it was fortunate they stayed, otherwise they wouldn't have witnessed this historic moment. Those who were impatient, those who slipped away early, or those who went diving, all missed such a momentous event—what a pity.

One by one, ghosts appeared to pay their respects to the new leader. Luo Yi calmly nodded to them, displaying an air of imperial authority. I glanced at Xiao Huai and Da Mi, finally calming down from my initial unease. To be honest, I hadn't quite recovered from the sudden turn of events, while Luo Yi had already effortlessly returned to his boss persona. It's clear everyone has their strengths; they can do whatever they want and excel at it. Luo Yi's superstar aura didn't come from nowhere; it was honed through countless trials and tribulations, making it seem innate. Who am I? How can I compare to him?

After the ghosts came and went, Little Ma was still standing in the rain, completely bewildered. He couldn't understand what had happened, how the power had changed hands so quickly, and how he was no longer the boss. The loss of being a boss for someone used to it seemed to be very painful for him. He slowly got up, pointed at Luo Yi, and stepped forward, making "hoarse" noises, his eyes practically spitting fire. But the moment he touched Luo Yi, just as he was about to exert his strength, he stumbled and fell back down. Luo Yi reached out to help him up, saying, "Brother Ma, fortunes change, and there's nothing you can do about it."

Little Ma felt utterly resentful of his defeat. He had expected a fierce battle that would last at least three days and three nights, only to be inexplicably defeated by a tiny fishbone. It was like a giant balloon bursting at the slightest prick of a needle—a truly lamentable outcome. This immense disappointment left him disoriented and bewildered, unsure of what to do.

I obediently hid behind Luo Yi, remaining silent. At a time like this, it's best to preserve some dignity and not add insult to injury. But one question stuck in my throat: how can I go back? Is this a secret only the boss knows? Like the secret manuals and military treatises hidden within the Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber, must they be passed down from the previous sect leader to the current one? What if he refuses to tell me?

Oh no! His throat is pierced by a fish bone, and he can't speak!

Heavens above, earth below! My child, please take me with you!

I sealed off my path to resurrection, and I even filled it with soil myself.

The dragon soared too high, now it regrets; my regret comes too late. Once again, I foolishly cut off my own escape route. I already learned my lesson from the Zhu Maichen's wife affair; why couldn't I learn from my mistakes? Cleverness can be deadly. The worst part is that those who think they possess cleverness are often complacent, relying on their cleverness to get away with things. Over time, they become nothing more than petty cunning. Playing cards is about having a trump card, but playing chess requires thinking seven moves ahead. I know countless card games, but I can't calculate chess moves. Now I've shot myself in the foot; I've brought this upon myself, and I can't escape this fate.

The seventh day of the seventh lunar month

Luo Yi, supporting Little Ma, smiled. He had finally gained the upper hand over Little Ma, and showing mercy and compassion to a defeated opponent was a sign of good manners and empathy; Luo Yi truly displayed good manners in this regard. Little Ma, however, was indignant, shoving him aside with a flick of his arm, and, chin in hand, staggered into the rain.

The rain lessened, transforming in the blink of an eye from a summer downpour to an autumn drizzle, and then spring arrived, with a light, fluffy drizzle filling the air, like drifting catkins gently caressing the face. Then it turned into mountain mist and forest sleet, the raindrops like silk threads in the hands of a Suzhou girl, each strand split into thirty-two, sixty-four, almost invisible to the naked eye. A gust of wind blew across the river, scattering the fluffy rain and the lingering scent of rain, dispelling the dark clouds overhead, and revealing a crescent moon peeking out.

It turned out that after Little Ma's magic weakened, the rain that appeared five years later, which was only possible because of his magic, also disappeared. The rain ceased, the clouds dispersed, and the dust and haze were washed away... The air was as pure as crystal, and the city was spotless. The stars had never been so bright, as if the azure sky had been lowered two thousand meters, spreading a day's worth of shattered diamonds before our eyes. I had never seen such a spectacle before. I had only heard from people who had been to Jiuzhaigou and Huanglong that the stars there were frighteningly numerous, terrifyingly numerous, because the extremely familiar things had suddenly changed, leaving one feeling disoriented.

Who told me this? It must have been Wei Xiaozhi, right? With my physical condition, how could I possibly go up a mountain three or four thousand meters high? I thought I would never be able to experience such a spectacular sight in my lifetime, but I saw it in the city.

What made the dazzling sky seem so close? For a moment, I forgot about Little Ma and Luo Yi, and just kept looking up at the sky. It was so close and so bright that I couldn't breathe for a moment, as if I had a seizure, so I closed my eyes. As soon as I closed my eyes, I shivered, and a thought flashed through my mind. I quickly opened my eyes and saw that the glittering sky full of stars—wasn't that the legendary Milky Way?

The constellation Aquila crosses the Milky Way, magpies form a bridge, tonight the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl will meet. I hurriedly called out, "Big brother, big brother, today is the seventh day of the seventh lunar month!"