Mist shrouded a thousand mountains, and the dark clouds were black as ink.
The little camp where they had settled lay deep within the mist. With nothing to do for several days, the rather filial Mao Chunniang had even carved a series of rectangular stone steles and erected them in woods untrodden for hundreds or thousands of years, bearing the names of all their fellow disciples, from Taishu Dan to Sikong Tianyuan.
In the early morning, bean-sized raindrops hammered the stele forest.
Wearing a bamboo hat, He Can was chiseling inscriptions onto a stone tablet. Seeing Mao Chunniang paying respects before Sikong Tianyuan's stele, he could not help interjecting, "Chunniang, if you want to honor your ancestors, erect the steles yourselves. You three haven't done a thing these past few days, leaving me to dig out over a hundred stone slabs alone. Do you know how tiring that is?"
Mao Chunniang answered flatly, "Whose fault is it that you talk so much? If we didn't find you something to do, you'd have talked them all into embracing the Righteous Path before Senior Uncle even came out of seclusion."
He Can said earnestly, "I'm thinking of your interests, too. Following the Corpse Ancestor to conquer the world-if he wins, you won't have been any help, and if he loses, we all get buried with him. If you ask me, we should join the Righteous Path while the Corpse Ancestor's in seclusion. Then, even if you can't become a concubine, you could certainly manage to become a foot-warming maid at the Marquis's Residence..." "And what about you?"
"Me? I've spent half my life roaming north and south. I'm long since tired of the Jianghu. I'd definitely find somewhere to open a stir-fry restaurant, hmm... and marry a dozen or so wives! I