novelapdf Chapter 87 Xiong Family Village
Chapter 87 Xiong Family Village
"Brother Song, please send a breeze to help me."
Upon hearing this, Song Quyou made a hand seal with his left hand and pointed a sword from his sleeve.
In an instant, the wind on the cliffside was disturbed and gradually rolled back.
At first, there was only a wisp, but it grew stronger as it went down, and by the time it reached the depths of the sea of clouds, it had transformed into a howling wind dragon. As it disappeared into the sea of clouds, the clouds and mist around Yunyang were instantly dispersed.
Having lost its support, Yunyang could no longer struggle. The swirling clouds around its body resembled drifting willow catkins, and its whale-like body continued to shrink.
Seeing that Yunyang was shrinking without the support of the sea of clouds, Xiong Hai shouted happily:
"A great opportunity!"
He then used his waist and abdomen to exert force, his arm muscles bulging like cast iron, and pulled himself back sharply.
The silvery-white silk thread was taut and straight. The bamboo pole was bent to its limit, making crisp sounds as it lifted the cloud-shaped object, which had shrunk several times over, inch by inch.
Fang Li, quick as a flash, scooped a fine gold net from the bamboo basket and threw it down the cliff.
The golden net stretched out in the wind, unfolding like a lotus petal, precisely catching the head of Yunyang, which had shrunk to the size of a yellow ox.
As soon as Yunyang entered the net, his struggles weakened, and the surging clouds around him gradually calmed down, drifting away with the wind to reveal a cotton ball the size of a watermelon, shimmering with iridescent light.
It huddled in the net, emitting a few muffled groans, hanging in mid-air as if resigned to its fate.
Xiong Hai plopped down on the ground, panting heavily, his body soaked in sweat and mist, but he grinned broadly: "Done! That bastard almost dragged me down!"
Fang Li reeled in the net and slowly pulled Yun Yang to the edge of the cliff. The large dumpling hung in front of everyone, its fluffy body rising and falling slightly, exhaling clouds of mist, much more docile now.
Mr. Wu leaned closer for a closer look and exclaimed in amazement, "This thing is truly amazing! It transforms into a giant whale in the clouds, yet it looks so harmless once it emerges from the sea of clouds..."
Fang Li took the trembling little Yunyangs out of the basket and tossed them off the cliff one by one.
As soon as Xiaoyunyang encountered the clouds, it immediately unfurled, like several clumps of white cotton drifting and sinking into the sea of clouds, transforming into several foot-long carp that leaped and tumbled.
Looking at the cracked bamboo pole in his hand, Xiong Hai reluctantly threw it away and bowed to Song Quyou, saying, "Thank you for your help, Brother Song. Otherwise, I'm afraid we wouldn't have been able to catch anything in Yunyang today..."
"Brother, you're too kind."
The four of them looked together at Yunyang in the net.
Mr. Wu approached the net and stretched out his greasy fingers to poke it. Da Yunyang immediately rolled over, turning his round body to the other side with a very arrogant attitude.
Mr. Wu sheepishly withdrew his hand: "Hey, you've got quite a temper."
……
The sun was setting in the west.
Song Quyou originally intended to return with Mr. Wu, but Xiong Haifang and his sister insisted on taking them back to the village to prepare a feast.
Song Quyou and his companion initially wanted to decline, citing the early hour, but they couldn't refuse their hospitality.
After leaving the cliff, Fang Li led the way, winding down a secluded path along the cliff edge.
Strangely enough, the sea of clouds looked unfathomably deep, but after the group walked down only a few feet, the clouds gradually thinned, revealing the true face of the valley.
There is a cave in the valley.
Below, a damp village is built against the mountain, with stilted wooden houses stacked one on top of another, and strings of dark medicinal herbs hanging from the eaves.
A main road of bluestone runs through the village, with stalls on both sides selling animal hides, herbs, and strange stones and wooden artifacts. All sorts of people move among them, mostly dressed as rough hunters, with a few outsiders in long robes here and there.
After descending the cliff and reaching the bottom of the mountain, the air was still filled with a strong musty smell and lingering dampness.
Along the way, Song Quyou's clothes, which were originally dry, were now soaked with water.
As Mr. Wu walked and looked around, he suddenly leaned close to Song Quyou's ear and whispered, "Daoist, look at the one on the left wearing a gray robe. The style of his boots is unique to official robes."
Song Quyou followed the gaze and saw that the man's clothes were rough and covered in mud, but he was unusually strong. His hair was neatly combed, and the black iron plaque at his waist vaguely revealed the pattern of "exorcising demons".
At this moment, Fang Li approached and walked beside Song Quyou, quietly describing the situation in the village.
It turns out that although Xiongjia Village no longer engages in the bandit activities of the past, it is not a good place either. Most of the people who come and go are from all walks of life, including herb gatherers, smugglers, collectors of rare treasures, and many who have committed crimes and fled to the mountains to hide from the storm. There are even Yue people from the deep mountains of Lingnan.
"Does the government really not care?" Song Quyou asked.
Fang Li smiled slyly: "It's not that I don't care, it's that I can't manage it strictly."
The village has now become a place for dividing spoils; many things that are strictly prohibited from being sold privately are sold here. Moreover, this place connects with many tribes in Lingnan, and items like ivory, jade, herbs, and furs are very popular with the local officials, who turn a blind eye to it.
During their conversation, the group arrived at the largest stilted house in the center of the village.
In front of the building stood two thick nanmu pillars, each carved with a ferocious bear totem, its claws gripping cloud patterns. The carving was rough yet extremely imposing.
"We're home!"
Xiong Hai hung Da Yunyang on a large camphor wood water vat under the eaves, clapped his hands, and shouted into the house, "Father! We have a distinguished guest!"
A series of steady footsteps came from inside the building. The bamboo curtain was lifted, and an elderly man with gray hair and beard and a robust figure walked out.
The old man had a leather blindfold over his left eye, while his right eye gleamed with a restrained light. His gaze swept over Song Quyou and Mr. Wu before finally settling on Song Quyou's face.
Xiong Hai eagerly said, "Father, this is Master Song, whom I often mention. He saved me and Fang Li at Lingfo Temple. This gentleman next to him is Mr. Wu, a great painter from Chang'an."
Upon hearing this, the old man cupped his hands and said, "So it's Master Song. Hai'er has been talking about it for days. It's a great honor to have you grace my humble abode with your presence today. If you don't mind, please stay for a few cups of wine."
Song Quyou returned the greeting and said, "Old Chieftain, I apologize for disturbing you."
"And Mr. Wu, I asked someone to ask you to paint a picture of a bear and a sea of clouds for me, but you declined. I originally wanted to visit you in person, but I didn't expect to meet you at my doorstep. It's really fate."
When the old chieftain uttered those words, both Song Quyou and Mr. Wu were stunned.
Mr. Wu opened his mouth, then after a long pause, he finally came to his senses: "Then...the master that person mentioned, is that the old chieftain?"
The old man laughed heartily, his voice like a bronze bell, causing the smoked mountain goods under the eaves to sway slightly and drip water.
"It is indeed I, Xiong Boyuan. I have long admired your exquisite painting skills, sir."
Now that we've arrived at your doorstep, I must offer you a drink, sir. Whether you paint or not is another matter; you can't refuse this drink.
After the old man finished speaking, he stepped aside to invite the guests in: "You two are honored guests, please come in quickly, the food and wine will be ready soon."
"Please, elder."
Song Quyou followed behind, secretly observing Xiong Boyuan.
The old man walked with heavy, steady steps, his feet landing silently, his shoulders slightly forward, like an old bear roaming in the forest.
Stepping inside, the air became noticeably drier. The furnishings were simple yet elegant, with white lime plaster piled up all around. In the main hall sat a tiger-skin chair, and below it, an old nanmu wood table. Jars of fine wine and plates of delicacies were being placed on the table.
Xiong Boyuan sat down in the main seat, broke the clay seal on the wine jar, and personally poured a bowl for Song Quyou and Mr. Wu. The wine was light pink in color and had a sweet aroma.
"This is homemade fruit wine from the village. There is little grain in the mountains, but there are plenty of fruits, which are often picked to make wine. Please have a taste, Master."
Just then, Fang Li walked in from outside, carrying a plate of smoked, golden-red pork knuckles.
Xiong Boyuan waved his hand and said, "Fang girl, stop busying yourself and come eat with us."
Fang Li responded, put down the pork knuckle, and sat down next to Xiong Hai.
Xiong Boyuan put down his wine bowl and looked at Song Quyou: "Daoist, I heard from Hai'er that you were fighting with Monk Huiming at Lingfo Temple, and your wind-summoning technique was incredibly skillful."
Before Song Quyou could speak, Xiong Hai, who was eating meat, interjected, "Father, you don't know, when we were fishing for Yunyang on the cliff today, if it weren't for the wind dragon that the Taoist priest casually summoned and scattered the sea of clouds, it would have been difficult to catch Yunyang."
"I wouldn't dare. It was Brother Xiong Hai's strength that allowed him to fish Yunyang up."
"You are too modest, Daoist Master. Your ability to summon the wind demonstrates your extraordinary skill. Furthermore, I would like to ask you for a favor."
"Tell me about it, sir."
"My Xiongjia Village hasn't seen the sun for over twenty years. The young people in the village are okay; they can go out and bask in the sun. But the elderly are too old to climb mountains, so they can only stay in this valley. Their bodies are covered in eczema. At an age when they should be enjoying their retirement, they are tormented by itching all day long. No matter how many doctors they have seen, it's no use."
Therefore, I would like to request that you, Taoist priest, use your wind magic to disperse the sea of clouds.
Upon hearing this, Song Quyou put down his wine bowl but did not immediately respond.
Xiong Boyuan did not urge him, but simply watched the young Taoist quietly.
After a moment, Song Quyou spoke up: "Old Chief, it's not that I'm unwilling to disperse the sea of clouds, but this sea of clouds is boundless. Even if I tear a hole, the sea of clouds will immediately close up, making it all in vain."
Xiong Boyuan picked up his wine bowl, took a sip, and sighed:
"What the Taoist priest says is true. This sea of clouds has been gathering for twenty years and has long since taken root. The formation that the master set up back then was originally intended to use the clouds to cover the mountain stronghold, but something went wrong. The clouds kept flowing and filled the entire valley."
He put down the bowl, his single eye gazing at the churning white expanse outside the door, a hint of melancholy in his voice:
"When I was young, I thought that with this sea of clouds covering the village, the government wouldn't be able to find us, our enemies wouldn't be able to find us, and the flowing clouds would make the village rich. I couldn't think of any downsides."
But now that I'm older, I realize that this gloomy, uncertain life isn't a long-term solution.
After saying this, Xiong Boyuan suddenly stood up and knelt before Mr. Wu, saying, "Mr. Wu..."
Xiong Boyuan's kneeling shocked everyone in the hall.
Mr. Wu jumped to his feet, nearly knocking over his wine bowl. He took two steps back and waved his hand, saying, "Old Chieftain, what are you doing! Get up! This won't do!"
Xiong Boyuan did not rise, his single eye fixed on Mr. Wu, his voice deep and resonant:
"Sir, please don't panic. My kneeling is not to force you to paint. You refused the five thousand taels of silver for the painting, and I respect your integrity even more. My kneeling today is to let you hear about the purpose of this painting."
Fang Li stepped forward to help, but Xiong Boyuan stopped her by raising his hand.
Helpless, Mr. Wu stepped forward and said, "Old chieftain, please get up. We can talk while you're sitting down. I can't accept such a big gesture. Otherwise, I wouldn't know how to help you."
……
Mr. Wu helped Xiong Boyuan back to his seat, then sat down himself, picked up his wine bowl and took a swig. The awkward expression he had just worn gradually faded away.
He wiped his mouth and looked up at Xiong Boyuan: "Old Chieftain, you just said that this painting has another purpose. I would like to hear the details."
A glint flashed in Xiong Boyuan's single eye. After a moment of silence, he slowly spoke: "This cloud formation was originally able to gather and disperse at the beginning, but because the sorcerer made a mistake when setting up the formation, it can only gather clouds now."
Before he left, he said that to complete the formation, they needed to find a talented painter to paint the sea of clouds over Xiongli Mountain, and then embed the painting into the formation.
Mr. Wu was taken aback: "The painting is embedded in the formation?"
"Exactly."
Xiong Boyuan sat upright, his single eye piercingly bright.
"The sorcerer said that ordinary formations need to rely on tangible objects such as rocks, bronze talismans, and formation flags as a foundation, but the incomplete part of this Cloud Gathering Formation is precisely the lack of the form of clouds to which it can be placed."
Mr. Wu frowned and listened quietly to everything.
Xiong Boyuan's tone became somewhat somber:
"The reason why the Gathering Cloud Formation went out of control is because the cloud energy is formless and intangible, and has no foundation to rely on."
Ordinary painters' depictions of clouds only capture their form, not their spirit, and cannot bear the power of the array. Only clouds in a painting possess spirit and rhythm can be embedded into the array, allowing the sea of clouds to once again gather and disperse, no longer obstructing the valley.
"So the old chieftain sought my painting not for collection, but to reinforce the formation?"
"Indeed, I asked you to paint this to complete the formation, to unravel this sea of clouds, so that the elderly in the house can see the sky in their last few years."
Mr. Wu finished the remaining wine in the bowl and looked out the door.
The vast sea of white clouds pressed down on the village like an inverted giant bowl, filtering the sunlight into a hazy gray. Although it was only early afternoon, the village was already as dark as dusk.
The clothes drying under the eaves were always damp, the bluestone slabs were covered with slippery moss, and even the two pillars coated with tung oil were dripping with water.
He pondered for a moment and said, "I can only do my best, and I dare not say that it will be successful."
Seeing that Mr. Wu agreed, Xiong Boyuan took out a slender wooden box from his pocket. The paint on the box was mottled, indicating that it had been around for a long time.
He opened the box, and inside lay a pen. The pen shaft was dark and heavy, but the bristles were snow-white, unlike the white of ordinary wolf or sheep hair.
"The brush left behind by that sorcerer was made of the flowing cloud silk spun by Yunyang, and the handle was made of driftwood. I am now giving it to you, sir."
Mr. Wu took the pen, and as soon as his fingertips touched the pen shaft, he felt a cool sensation travel up his finger bones, giving him a burst of energy.
His expression changed slightly. The cool and refreshing feeling made him examine the brush over and over again. Finally, he sighed, "With a brush like this, it would be hard for any cloud not to come alive."
Mr. Wu put the brush back in the box, closed the lid, and looked up at Xiong Boyuan: "Old Chieftain, I'll accept this brush. However, I must say beforehand that if the formation still cannot be completed after the drawing is finished, please don't blame me."
Xiong Boyuan glared with his one eye and waved his hand, saying, "What are you saying, sir? Whether it succeeds or not, your willingness to help my Xiong Family Village is already a great favor. How could I blame you?"