Unspeakable

Evening was approaching, yet the horizon had not yet darkened. The surrounding mountains had become deep, dark shadows, and the yellow and blue light of the sky reflected in the water alongside their silhouettes, dyeing the river as well. A small boat drifted with the waves, its lantern light appearing no larger than a single soybean when viewed from afar, also mirrored in the water and ruffled by the evening breeze.

The boatman sat straight at the bow with a long pole in his hand.

The fishing line entered the water, creating tiny ripples.

The boatman suddenly lifted his pole and reached out to catch something at the same time.

Seeing that it was only a small fish, he tossed it casually onto the deck.

Plop, plop, plop...

The fish thudded and flopped about inside the cabin.

The boatman merely smiled and said to Three Flower Cat:

"For you."

"Meow~"

Three Flower Cat uttered a word of thanks before finally lowering her head to eat.

The scholar was also sitting by the side of the boat to enjoy the breeze, watching the boatman fish and reaching his hand down from time to time. Since he was close to the water, he could touch it without even stretching his arm out fully.

Suddenly he laughed, pointing to the side and saying to the boatman:

"Old sir, look. You've been fishing with all your effort for so long and only caught a single bleak smaller than two fingers wide, yet a fish just drifted right here, coming right up in front of me! This is practically mocking you..."

As he spoke, he braced his other hand against the window frame to lean his torso out, stretching his arm long as if he wanted to catch that fish.

"Don't go for it!"

The boatman immediately turned his head and said.

"Huh?"

The scholar retracted his hand in a flash, looking toward the boatman:

"Why?"

Only then did the boatman's expression ease up, a smile appearing on his face as he told the scholar:

"Esteemed guest, just don't go for it."

"Is there some sort of superstition to it?"

"It doesn't really count as a superstition; it's just that those of us who travel by boat and fish at night never touch fish like this that drift by the water's edge, neither too far nor too close, looking as if you could catch them just by stretching out your hand a little further." The boatman continued sitting at the bow to fish, his voice drifting through the night wind. "We're just used to it."

The scholar, however, seemed to have taken an interest.

"Please tell me the details, old sir."

"There's nothing..."

"There is definitely a reason!"

"I must ask the esteemed guest not to make things difficult for this old fellow."

"I wouldn't dare make things difficult for you! You might not know it, old sir, but in my life I am most fond of listening to these kinds of ghostly and supernatural stories and rumors, so I beg you to tell me one."

"There's nothing else to it, except that while this fish looks close, reaching for it requires you to stretch your arm an extra bit, and that extra bit brings the danger of falling into the water."

"Just that?"

"Esteemed guest, you must understand—when does grain ever fall from the sky? Things that come for nothing are mostly not simple." The boatman sat unmoving, wholly focused on his fishing. "Take this fish in front of you, for instance. You feel that you only need to lean over and reach out to get it, but once you lean down like that, if there happens to be a little demon or spirit down below taking advantage of your carelessness..."

Halfway through his sentence, the boatman smiled and left the rest unsaid.

"Oh?"

The scholar raised an eyebrow, feeling both lingering fear and excitement. "Have such things ever happened on this Willow River before?"

The boatman still smiled without speaking, concentrating entirely on his fishing.

"Old sir, you shouldn't be so stingy with your words."

"It's truly not worth mentioning."

"If old sir is willing to tell, I can pay a bit of tea money."

It was clear that the scholar truly loved hearing stories. Seeing this, the boatman found it hard to refuse any longer, and after a brief pause, he patiently began to relate.

When this old fellow was young, I heard people say that you'd best not touch fish you could catch by taking just one more step into the water, or medicinal herbs you could harvest by taking one more step toward a cliff edge. Yet being young and vigorous, I wouldn't go so far as to say I disbelieved such talk—usually I believed it, but when it actually came down to my own turn, at that very moment, I couldn't remember it at all, right up until I witnessed such an event with my own eyes.

There were truly quite a few eerie stories aboard these Willow River boats.

The boatman told several in a row.

They were nothing more than people like the scholar, greedy for petty gains and thinking it was a stroke of good fortune sent by the heavens, or else walking by the riverbank in the middle of the night and seeing someone fall in, or something else entirely, only to be harmed by demons and ghosts.

Song You sat quietly listening beside them.

Before he knew it, that fish which had floated close to the water's surface, half a meter away from the boat, was already gone.

Most of the spirits and monsters in this world were like this.

As for wandering souls and wild ghosts, there was no need to dwell on them; unless their cultivation was profound, they had to go to some trouble just to harm a living person.

Demons varied too wildly, making them hard to generalize.

Take the fierce tiger they had encountered a few days ago, for instance. A tiger was the lord of the mountains; even if it had not yet opened its spiritual wisdom and merely possessed a bit more cleverness than its peers—knowing to bully the weak and avoid the strong, and how to discern traps—it was already enough to leave a group of able-bodied men and hunters from Liu Family Village completely helpless against it. If it harbored intentions of harming people, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Yet a rabbit, even if it became a spirit and attained spiritual wisdom, might still be beaten to death with a club by a person, or snatched away by an eagle through some carelessness.

Take foxes, so common in stories, as another example.

They were carnivores to begin with, yet many foxes became spirits and took on human form; before their cultivation reached a high level, if they mingled among humans and encountered a sharp village cur, they still had to give it a wide berth.

This was an innate difference, and upon careful thought, there was a marvel to it as well.

Because minor ghosts and young demons lacked sufficient ability and strength, if they wanted to harm people, they had to rely on deception, temptation, and making people lower their guard so that they would fall into traps before they could succeed.

Yet it did not necessarily mean they always wanted to harm anyone. Many aquatic animals gained intelligence and would use fish to bait birds or catch other fish, and catching a person was merely an accident. Nor was it necessarily the work of demons or ghosts at all. A boat could travel hundreds or thousands of li upon the water, and along the way there were plenty of deserted stretches where boatmen might harbor malicious intents, murder their guests, and pin the blame on demons and ghosts.

When the boatman finished speaking, the scholar cried out in deep satisfaction.

"This old fellow doesn't know how to speak..."

"Old sir, you mustn't say that. Stories like these are the most moving when told in the most unadorned tone, as if they just happened right beside one." As the scholar spoke, he hastily turned back into the cabin. "I must hurry and write this down. If I forget it, I'll have wasted my five-cash tea money."

Several stories for five-cash tea money was well worth it.

Chill rising over the river at night made it cold outside.

Song You patted the red date horse's neck. "You'll have to bear with staying here these past few days, and try not to make a sound lightly. But if you run into anything at all, just call out to me loudly."

The red date horse stood unmoving, without making a peep.

Instead, the scholar's laughter came from behind them. "Young Mister is truly interesting. It's common enough to talk to a cat, but now you're talking to a horse as well. Could it be that your horse has also become a spirit and can understand human speech?"

Song You smiled and turned to look.

While the boatman had been telling stories earlier, he had already caught a few large fish and set a pot of soup to simmer beforehand. Steam was now rising from the small stove, and amidst that steam, the scholar was using his clothing box as a desk, spreading out rough paper, putting the writing brush he held in his mouth to moisten it, and writing away with his head lowered.

Song You entered the cabin as well and took a casual glance.

It was precisely the story the boatman had just told.

After that, the scholar buried his head in frantic writing and spoke no more.

Looking back at the boatman, he first used the fish bones and head to make a broth, while carefully tending to the flesh of the fish, slicing it into thin pieces. Once the fish soup had boiled, he simply poured those semi-transparent, delicate fish slices into the pot; the moment they rolled through the liquid, they turned snow-white, and the aroma grew even more enticing.

"There's nothing good to eat on the boat, just these things day in and day out. Esteemed guests, please don't mind."

The boatman retrieved bowls and chopsticks from the low cabinet.

The scholar had just finished writing as well, and without standing on ceremony, he immediately went to fetch bowls. Acting like the master of the boat, he served Song You, then served the family of three, and ladled out soup for them.

Song You received a bowl as well and expressed his thanks.

The chill on the river was heavy, but the steam rising from the bowl was thick.

Before he had even taken a bite, feeling the temperature in his palm that contrasted so sharply with the outside world, he already felt a mild sense of emotion.

"Mm!!"

The scholar's voice rang out first.

"Old sir, fine craftsmanship!"

"That can hardly be called craftsmanship; anyone makes it taste this way." The boatman laughed heartily. "Esteemed guest, you're only drinking your first sip, so you find it comforting. If it's like this for the next few days—nothing but fish soup or fish meat mixed into a pot of porridge—after a few more meals you'll be sick of it."

"Old sir is being modest. At the end of last year, I traveled upstream along this very Willow River to Yizhou, and the boatman on that vessel prepared it the same way, yet it didn't match old sir's flavor."

"I wouldn't dare claim such a thing!"

Listening, Song You also lowered his head and took a taste.

The fish soup contained almost nothing other than salt and ginger, providing a touch of saltiness while removing the fishy odor. The freshly caught fish naturally possessed its own freshness, but there were no other flavors, making it ordinary up to this point.

The key lay in the fish slices added afterward.

The fish meat was sliced very thin, and not a single bone remained, which required no small amount of knife skill and patience. The fish slices added later were well worth eating; having rolled through the pot for just a moment, the skin of the fish still retained a crisp bounce when first bitten into, entirely different from the method of tossing the fish meat into the pot to stew right from the start.

The boatman was indeed being modest.

Even if there truly weren't many fancy tricks, sometimes it was precisely simple things that were harder to execute well, and how was this not a form of artistry?

"Hah..."

Song You exhaled a breath of hot air, feeling immensely comfortable.

He lowered his gaze to glance at Three Flower Cat beside him.

"Does Three Flower Lady care to eat?"

Three Flower Cat did not speak, merely shrinking back a little.

The scholar found this amusing once again.

After finishing the fish soup, he came over to strike up a conversation with Song You once more.

"Where is Mister from?"

"Yizhou."

"Oh? What part of Yizhou?"

"Lingquan County."

"Lingquan County?"

The scholar immediately grew interested. "When I traveled to Yizhou on this trip, I also visited Lingquan County."

"And you are..."

"I haven't even introduced myself yet; how truly impolite of me!" The scholar hastily raised his hands in a smiling salute. "My surname is Fu, the Fu of Grand Tutor, with the given name Yu, and the courtesy name Wendong. I am a native of Long Commandery in Xuzhou."

"Song You, courtesy name Menglai, a recluse from Lingquan County in Yizhou."

"Mister cultivates the Dao in Lingquan County?"

"You seem surprised."

"It's not so much surprise as having something I'd like to ask." The scholar saluted again and said, "Since Mister cultivates the Dao in Lingquan County, I wonder if you have ever heard of the Fulong Temple of Yinshan Mountain?"

"I have heard of it."

Song You still looked at him calmly.

"To tell you the truth, my journey to Yizhou this time was partly to visit friends and relatives, and partly to seek out Fulong Temple on Yin Yang Mountain." The scholar could not help shaking his head, revealing a look of regret and remorse. "Yet when I reached Lingquan County and searched in all quarters, I indeed found Yin Yang Mountain, but after turning the entire mountain over, let alone halls and temples, I didn't even see a single brick or tile of it."

"Is Fulong Temple very famous? Where did you hear of it?"

"It's not particularly famous; it's just that I am fond of this path and like to collect legends of gods, ghosts, and demons everywhere. I happened to discover that several unusual and remarkable rumors I collected all happened to mention this Daoist temple. Out of curiosity, I took this opportunity to seek it out, but alas, I returned empty-handed and wasted many days."

With that, he looked at Song You.

"Could it be that Fulong Temple is not on Yin Yang Mountain? Or is there another Yin Yang Mountain? Did I inquire at the wrong place?"

"You do not know, foot traveler."

Song You still spoke to him calmly: "That Fulong Temple possesses quite a few marvels. Even worshippers from the mountain below who wish to offer incense can only find the temple when the temple master wishes to open the gates. At all other times, even if one walks along familiar paths, they can only return empty-handed."

"Really?"

"It cannot be faked."

"There is actually such a strange occurrence!!"

"I have heard that the master of Fulong Temple is lazy to a fault, with only a single disciple who can be considered somewhat diligent. Perhaps you didn't fail to find the location, but simply didn't go at the right time."

"Indescribable..."

The scholar's eyes widened, his hands clapping together.

"Since there is such a miraculous place, it must be an immortal mountain and renowned dwelling. If I have another chance in the future, I must go search for it again!"

"And when will that future be?"

"I fear it will be many years from now."

"I wish you success in your endeavors."

"Many thanks, many thanks..."

Song You leaned back inside the cabin. Three Flower Lady had already curled up beside him, and as he placed his hand upon her back, sharing their warmth with one another, a sense of drowsiness gradually overtook him.

Thanks to the patron "Speaking Plastic", I bow and bare my chest.

My chest is so cold.