Chapter 67 — The Sleepless City
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 4
" Shen Mu was shaken to the core. He pulled his clothes free and let the merchant lead the oxen and sheep away. Slaughter or the plow waited for them; though he felt there was something not quite right in it, he could not say Granny Zhu had done wrong.
The Wasteland was that kind of place, where the weak were meat for the strong, and Granny Zhu's way of meting out justice, extreme though it was, was still better than none at all. He was even a little moved.
That affair had struck him hard in those days; he had never imagined that after ten-odd years Granny would still remember it, still keep in mind avenging the people of that village who had died for nothing. The two of them bought more cloth and fine wine and carried it all to the inn where they were staying. Suddenly Granny Zhu stopped short; catching sight of a shop selling rouge and face powder, she could not move her feet.
"Good wares! Only powder this fine could do justice to Granny's peerless beauty.
" The old woman was in raptures, her eyes shining, her toothless mouth whistling as she spoke, which set a gaggle of young girls to giggling without end. Granny Zhu turned a deaf ear, bought a great heap of rouge and powder, and spent nearly all the money that remained. Catching sight of Shen Mu standing to one side with boxes large and small in his arms, she felt a little guilty.
She fished about in her purse, and after a good while drew out the last dragon coin, stuffed it into Shen Mu's pocket, and said gently, "Shen'er, be good to yourself — go and buy something you like. But don't go yet; help me carry the rouge and powder back to the inn. " When Shen Mu delivered the cosmetics to the inn, the innkeeper was all deference, saying that rooms had long since been prepared for them. Shen Mu eyed the innkeeper with suspicion, and his heart gave a small jolt: the innkeeper winked at him and said in a low voice, "This subordinate greets the Young Cult Master. " The Nether Demon Cult's three hundred and sixty halls dabbled in every trade and calling — it had even opened an inn here in Crimson Dragon City. Shen Mu steadied himself and went into the guest room; Granny Zhu promptly shooed him out again, saying, "You so rarely get out — you must enjoy yourself to the full.
And mind you, spend that dragon coin sparingly.
" With the dragon coin in his pocket, Shen Mu went out. By night Crimson Dragon City was ablaze with lamplight, all the more bewitching.
Vendors of every kind and folk from villages near and far had all come out to sell strange wares of every description, and the streets were a sea of people, so thronged that a raised sleeve made a cloud.
"We, father and daughter, are folk of Qijia Village, passing through your honorable district. We seek neither fame nor profit, only that my daughter has come of age and has not yet been promised in marriage.
Hence this martial contest to choose a husband, in hope of finding a hero of surpassing skill. . .
" Hearing this voice, Shen Mu halted and looked, not knowing whether to laugh or to cry, at the raised platform, where the crowd was packed so tight not a drop could seep through. "That father and daughter from Qijia Village have come to hold their martial contest again. Come to think of it, last time they held it at the Granny Temple three years ago — surely after three years they still haven't found themselves a live-in son-in-law?
" "A single dragon coin — what can it buy? " As Shen Mu was turning this over, he heard someone cry out, "Priceless treasures, only three coins apiece!
" He looked toward the voice and saw a lane with a fair crowd in it, spread with all manner of strange and uncanny wares — mostly broken bricks and cracked tiles. "Can all these broken bricks and tiles be priceless treasures? And why would priceless treasures be so cheap?
" Astonished, Shen Mu quietly opened his Skypiercing Heavenly Eye and gazed intently — then shook his head to himself.