Chapter 36: Piercing Illusions
Again?
Hearing Ren Youyang’s words, Ding Songyan found it both expected and exasperating.
These people are quite persistent!
They have already been spotted by Ren Youyang once, yet they dare come back. Do they really not take one of the Six Sects and Four Schools seriously?
"We’ll take it slow this time. We’ll definitely catch them." Ren Youyang chuckled softly, then slipped fully into character as a listener. "Hey, Ding Songyan, I heard there’s a girl beautiful as a heavenly maiden who comes to hear your stories every day. Is she really that stunning? How does she compare to the women on the Jianghu Peerless Beauties?"
You should have come earlier to see for yourself. Though as a "competitor," Xiao Qing might not want to meet you. Her disguise skills are quite something... Ding Songyan continued packing his tools while glancing in the direction Ren Youyang’s left index finger subtly indicated.
At the same time, he answered casually, "I’ve never seen any of the heroines or female heretics on the Peerless Beauties. How would I compare?"
From the corner of his eye, Ding Songyan spotted a man behaving slightly oddly.
He wore a bamboo hat and brown clothes, looking like a farmer visiting the market. Though ostensibly watching others play pitch-pot nearby, he kept stealing seemingly casual glances toward Ding Songyan.
"Fair point." Ren Youyang laughed. "If you ever get the chance to learn martial arts and enter the jianghu, I’ll introduce you to some women on the Peerless Beauties. I can’t speak for others, but Bai Lingxu of the Xihuang Sect—I’m quite familiar with her."
"Oh?" Ding Songyan’s attention was entirely on the tail. He only gave Ren Youyang a perfunctory response.
Ren Youyang was silent for two breaths, then said with a touch of awkwardness, "Don’t look at me like that. We really are quite close. She— she has hit me before!"
"What?" Ding Songyan’s attention was pulled back.
Ren Youyang puffed out his chest.
"She’s from the same generation as Yu Chongyuan and Feng Yining. Eight years older than me. Only one step from the Heaven-Man Realm. The youngest Elder of the Xihuang Sect. It’s perfectly normal that I can’t beat her."
"Perfectly normal." Ding Songyan inexplicably felt like he was performing a duo’s comedy routine with Ren Youyang, playing the straight man.
Ren Youyang did not dwell further. He cleared his throat and laughed heartily.
"Life is short. Who knows when death will come? Before that day, you’ve got to live with abandon, enjoy yourself more. Ding Songyan, come on, I’ll take you to Emerald Willow House for drinks and company!"
Why does that sound so familiar? Ding Songyan quickly recalled the reason, and quietly put a step’s distance between himself and Ren Youyang.
Xiao Qing’s words aren’t prophetic, are they?
Just drinking is fine. After all, I first met him outside Emerald Willow House. But surely it won’t go beyond that?
Ren Youyang looks proper enough. He can’t possibly be that dissolute. Right?
Ding Songyan hurriedly whispered, "Don’t we still need to attend to our ’guest’ first?"
The "guest" meant the tail.
"Inside a song house, there’s nowhere to run or hide. That’s the best place to catch a rat," Ren Youyang explained softly.
He glanced left and right, then added, "I’ve been chatting with you too long. It’ll look suspicious. Head toward Crimson Sleeve Street on your own. I’ll change clothes and find you there."
With that, he left Ding Songyan’s area and blended into the crowd.
Ding Songyan ruminated over Ren Youyang’s words and found them reasonable. He decided to catch the tail first, extract information about who was behind it, then go to the Zhen estate to tell Yan Changqing stories. Lunch could be settled at Emerald Willow House.
At that moment, a man in his forties wearing a scholar’s robe approached with a smile.
"Ding Songyan, are you telling stories this afternoon too?"
Who are you? Don’t you know I only do morning sessions? Ding Songyan was inwardly restless but smiled outwardly.
"I have to perform at a private session this afternoon."
Telling stories to Yan Changqing was no different from performing at a private session.
The man’s voice suddenly dropped very low.
"Ding Songyan, I found the tail you mentioned!"
The voice was soft and sweet, completely unlike before.
Miss Xiao Qing? That disguise technique is godly! Ding Songyan marveled inwardly and asked in a whisper, "Who is it?"
"The pitch-pot area. The one in the bamboo hat." Xiao Qing was brief and to the point.
It’s the same one Ren Youyang pointed out... Double-verified, so that confirms it’s the tail... Ding Songyan was about to thank Xiao Qing when she stepped closer and added in rapid, hushed tones, "He shows signs of being controlled. Similar to gu-insects but not quite."
Having said this, Xiao Qing put on a look of disappointment, murmured a farewell, and melted into the crowd.
Controlled... That fits! And Xiao Qing can actually see that? She’s sharper than Ren Youyang. It seems Brother Youyang really isn’t suited to this kind of work... Unfortunately, the exact method of control can’t be identified yet. Otherwise there might be a chance to trace it back to the mastermind... Ding Songyan’s thoughts raced as he analyzed and strategized.
Suddenly, he remembered the "seed" Yan Changqing had given him.
It can pierce illusions when directed to the eyes!
Though Ding Songyan had previously worried that "piercing illusions" might actually impose another layer of illusion to skew his judgment, looking at this moment would cost nothing. After catching the tail, he could still ask Xiao Qing for cross-verification. He would not blindly trust what he saw.
Having decided, Ding Songyan quickly moved the hazy "seed" within his sea of consciousness to the center of his brows, then split it in two, letting it settle over both eyes.
His vision instantly sharpened. The sky looked as though it was washed by rain. The ground seemed to draw closer.
He looked openly toward the pitch-pot area, sweeping his gaze across the man in the bamboo hat.
What he saw made him freeze completely.
The man’s skin was flushed red. From his ear, a moth resembling a large red ant extended blood-colored scaled antennae, probing outward.
The moment the antennae touched the outside air, they retracted rapidly. The vermilion moth shrank inward with them, disappearing into the man’s ear canal.
Ding Songyan’s scalp went numb. He suspected the man in the bamboo hat was already dead, and that one or more of those ant-like red moths were controlling him.
Moths...
Ding Songyan’s brow suddenly furrowed, and his head seemed to throb.
He felt he knew moths; in fact, he knew them too well.
It wasn’t the vermilion kind. He had never seen anything like it before today. But ordinary moths, common ones, gathering in numbers he had never questioned.
He saw them every day.
At home.
In the Ding family courtyard.
Could there be a connection between the two? Every hair on Ding Songyan’s body stood on end, as though he were trapped in a nightmare from which he could never wake.
He grabbed his tools and strode rapidly toward Chengyu Lane. Along the way, he thought he glimpsed one or several fluffy white tails flash past and vanish.
At first he walked so fast he nearly broke into a run. Only when the "seed’s" illusion-piercing effect faded did he slow his pace, his expression gradually returning to normal—or at least appearing normal.
Ding Songyan walked into Chengyu Lane as he usually did, unhurried and somewhat relaxed, greeting neighbors along the way.
He knocked on the courtyard gate, answered Qingyan’s question, and was let inside.
Stopping in the yard, Ding Songyan was deaf to the world, completely ignoring whatever Qingyan was saying. His eyes reflected only the mosquitoes and moths clustering around the elm tree.
He moved the hazy "seed" back to his eyes once more and activated the illusion-piercing ability.
Those moths, those mosquitoes, did not reveal hidden forms. They did not transform into vermilion ant-like abominations.
Then Ding Songyan turned to look at Qingyan.
Today she had not combed her hair properly, simply gathering it loosely. It made her appear fresh and lovely with a touch of lazy casualness.
She cocked her head slightly, studying Ding Songyan.
"Second Brother, what’s wrong? You’re acting weird..."
Seeing nothing unusual about his sister, no change from before the illusion-piercing was activated, Ding Songyan quietly exhaled with relief and smiled.
"Nothing. I just didn’t sleep enough last night. Still a bit groggy."
"Then quickly get some rest," Qingyan said with concern.
She had just cooked herself a bowl of noodles with pickled vegetables for a simple lunch.
"All right." Ding Songyan did not refuse. He returned to the west wing and lay down.
Qingyan, afraid of disturbing him, took her brushes, ink, and paper to the main room to practice calligraphy.
Was I overthinking it? Connecting ordinary moths with the vermilion ones... Vermilion moths, like large red ants. I feel like I’ve seen a similar description somewhere... Ding Songyan lay on his bed, thinking hard.
In a flash, he had a lead. He carefully rolled off the bed and felt between the bedding and the bed frame for his hand-copied Secret Classic of Mountains and Seas.
He had seen a matching description in there!
Flipping rapidly, Ding Songyan found the passage:
"Vermilion Moth, also known as the Great Ant. In form it resembles a moth...
"The result of consuming it? All insects submit to you, a thousand minds share one sea, a thousand faces become one."
......
Dingjiang Prefecture, Linjiang County Office.
After finishing his patrol of the assigned streets with his squad, Li Wu strode back to the duty room. He picked up his large bowl, and gulped down the now-cold tea, leaves sticking to the corners of his mouth.
"That hits the spot!" He exhaled, and was about to sit and rest when he saw Constable Xue Zhangjian and County Marshal Yi Qincang walking in together.
Yi Qincang had a square face, thick brows, large eyes, and a powerful build. His left arm was slightly longer than his right. On his back he carried a red composite bow, and his waist quiver held white-feathered arrows. Constable Xue Zhangjian was half a head shorter, in his forties, looking refined and scholarly, but he looked nothing like a martial artist. As he walked, his body was slightly hunched, his hands somewhat rigid, curled like chicken claws.
"Marshal Yi, Constable Xue, what’s this about?" Li Wu’s body went taut.
Is something happening?
Xue Zhangjian produced an official document and placed it on the duty room table.
"The Martial Prohibition Bureau in the Flame Capital has responded regarding the anomaly in the Small Boat Gang’s Chen Yuliang’s death. They’ve given four possibilities."
Li Wu looked closely. The document read:
"The phenomenon of a body’s torso decaying faster than its head is unprecedented within Great Zhao’s borders.
"Based on intelligence previously transmitted by several covert operatives, it is suspected that certain heretical practitioners originally active only north of the Great River have arrived in Ning Province.
"Four possibilities:
"First, the Five Thieves Gate of the Gan Kingdom. Second, the Mushroom-Man Sect of New Yu.
"Third, the Thousand Puppet Gate, whose sect location somewhere north of the river is unknown. Fourth, the Moth-God Sect of the Feng Kingdom."
