Chapter Forty-Nine: Preparations

"Four-centimeter imported climbing rope, twenty meters, ten sets. Thickened inflatable kayaks, four. Gas masks..." I looked at the note handed to me by Zhang the Ghostface and sighed. My master hadn't given me a single cent for the budget, forcing me to pay out of my own pocket. Still, the thought of Zhang the Ghostface promising to show me the world filled me with both excitement and a hint of fear.

Mengya drove me to a nearby mountaineering equipment store. When I asked the salesperson, I found the climbing rope of this specification cost sixty yuan per half meter—just the first item was over twenty thousand. In total, we spent nearly a hundred thousand. The price aside, the thought of carrying all this gear was exhausting. I sighed, mustered all my strength to lift the thick rope, but to my surprise, it was as light as air. The kayaks had been vacuum-sealed into blocks about twenty centimeters square—easy to carry and effortless to handle.

We loaded the equipment into the trunk and returned home.

"Qiutong," Mengya looked at me with solemn eyes. "I want to go with you."

"No," I refused resolutely. "I can't let you wade into these troubled waters."

Mengya bowed her head and let out a cold laugh. "Didn't we agree, didn't we promise, never to be apart again?" She finished speaking and began to sob.

I looked at her, the sadness so genuine it unsettled me. I gently stroked her cheek and sighed. "It's just... I'm afraid something might happen to you."

Before I could finish, she brushed my hand aside. "You just want to abandon me, don't you?"

"How could I? We've been together so long, do you still not understand how I feel?"

Though I said this, I knew in my heart—the real reason I wouldn't let her go was my lingering suspicion of her.

"Qiutong, if you abandon me, I will kill you the very moment," she said hysterically. "And then... I'll kill myself too."

Hearing that, my heart felt torn apart, a phrase echoing endlessly inside: "This woman could never betray me. Never, never, absolutely never!"

With that thought, I wrapped my arms around Mengya's waist, and her sobbing grew even stronger.

"Mengya, if... if you ever betray me, I’ll become a fierce ghost, and even if I never reincarnate, I’ll stay by your side for all eternity."

"Mm..." she replied with a smile, her hands resting on my waist. "It's been days since we shared a bed. Should we...?"

Without hesitation, I nodded and carried her to the bed. I never expected that this indulgence would nearly cost me my life.

The next three days passed as we continued buying all kinds of equipment, leaving us exhausted and aching. Each night we collapsed onto the bed.

Knock, knock, knock.

Just as we lay down, someone knocked at the door. I walked over, checked the monitor, and saw it was Zhang the Ghostface, the masked man—my third uncle.

I hurried to open the door. Zhang the Ghostface stood outside, face gloomy.

"Have you bought everything?"

"Uncle, please come inside first."

He nodded, and just then Mengya came out to greet him. Zhang the Ghostface cast her a sidelong glance, as if he found her utterly distasteful, said nothing, and sat on the sofa. Mengya, puzzled by his demeanor, went to the kitchen to brew two cups of West Lake Dragon Well tea and brought them to him.

Without a second thought, Zhang the Ghostface removed his mask. Mengya let out a startled cry, gathered herself, and retreated into the room.

"Who is this woman?"

"Uh..." I hesitated for a moment. "She's... the shop assistant."

Zhang the Ghostface glanced in Mengya's direction, shielding his water as it cooled, then lifted his head and poured it down his throat, closing his exposed rows of teeth as he swallowed.

"So young and already keeping a woman. What will you be like when you're older?"

I thought, you're not much older than me yourself. How can you say that? Could it be you have issues with women? If so, that's trouble.

"Uncle, how old are you this year?" I asked hesitantly.

"Twenty-six."

I was stunned. He was only two years older than me and already the head of the Third Gate. Even someone as formidable as the Kaleidoscope was wary of him—what kind of person was he, really? I sighed deeply; appearances can be deceiving, and the ocean can't be measured with a cup.

"What is it? Do I not look like someone in their twenties?"

I shook my head and smiled. "Uncle, are you married..."

Smack!

Before I could finish, he crushed the glass in his hand, making my hair stand on end.

Zhang the Ghostface shook off the shards, snorted coldly, and said in a hoarse, grating voice, "No woman is any good."

The room fell silent.

"Qiutong, tomorrow morning at nine, bring your gear to your shop and meet us there." With that, he stood and left without looking back.

As soon as Zhang the Ghostface left, Mengya slipped out of the room.

Pale and shaken from her encounter with him, she sidled up to me and stammered, "Who is he?"

"Zhang the Ghostface, head of the Third Gate of the Nine Gates of Beijing."

"Ah!" Mengya was astonished. "That’s Zhang the Ghostface? He’s even scarier than a ghost."

I teased her with a smile, "You talk as if you’ve seen a ghost before."

Mengya spat, "He’s like a living horror show. I’m afraid I’ll have nightmares tonight. You have to hold me while I sleep."

The next morning, Mengya and I arrived at the shop at eight. Unexpectedly, Master was already waiting outside.

We opened the shop. Master sat on a chair, and I told Mengya to bring out the incense and our best fragrance powder, along with the treasured Song Pin tea, to welcome the arriving uncles.

"Oh, I’m the first one here!"

Just as we were preparing tea, Liu the Iron Crutch hobbled in with his bamboo cane.

"Uncle, please have a seat," I went forward to greet him.

Liu the Iron Crutch looked around, spotted Mengya making tea, and grinned like a flower. "Oh my, who is this beauty?"

I felt awkward. "Uh... the shop assistant, my shop assistant."

He leered, leaning toward Mengya, "Little girl, working at my nephew’s shop, is there any special service?"

Mengya was about to retort when a mocking voice sounded from outside.

"Look at you, look at you. I’ve been watching from outside for ages. Old Seven, even with a broken leg you haven’t changed your ways!"

Liu the Iron Crutch turned to look, and saw the Kaleidoscope enter, hands behind his back.

"Little girl, don’t mind him. This cripple used to be a rapist. You’d better chat about dreams and life with your Uncle Kaleidoscope." He, too, wore an obscene expression.

"Uh..." I took the teapot from Mengya and poured tea for the two "dirty old men." "Uncles, Mengya already has a husband. Please behave yourselves."

Both old men glared at me. Liu the Iron Crutch snorted and sat down.

"Oh, we’re just acting our part as elders," the Kaleidoscope said, feigning dignity.

I thought, these two are just short of dropping their pants, yet they talk about being proper elders. Really speechless.

We sat in our chairs sipping tea when the sound of boots echoed in the hallway.

The Kaleidoscope and Liu the Iron Crutch froze, exchanged glances, and stood up to tidy themselves.

A figure entered—a black leather jacket, wedge-heeled knee-high boots, and a black sword sheath slung over his back. Zhang the Ghostface stepped in, and up close he even bore a striking resemblance to Kris Wu.

"So handsome," Mengya stared at him in a daze, her eyes wide.

I nudged her. "Are you planning to fall for someone else?"

Mengya glared at me and returned to making tea.

"Third Brother, you’re here," Liu the Iron Crutch greeted him with a bow.

"Mm." Zhang the Ghostface sat down, glancing at Mengya who was still staring at him. "Miss, your husband is right here. Do you think it’s appropriate to look at me like that?"

Zhang the Ghostface had an unpleasant voice, like a cleaver scraping bricks—harsh to the ear. Everyone seemed uncomfortable when he spoke.

"Third Brother, only Seventh Brother hasn’t arrived. Should we call him?"

"No need," Zhang the Ghostface replied coldly, pointing upstairs. "He and his ten brothers are waiting outside. I just came down for a cup of tea."