Fish Meat – Chapter 128
by Little PandaThe First Year of Zhao Wu
The Path of Ten Thousand Directions (7)
Wei Tingxu said that during the Rangchuan incident, she saw the sky once.
Having been kept in both water prison and dog cages, besides her torturers, she barely even saw Xie Fuchen. Living in darkness for years made her more sensitive.
She had asked herself why she was living, what was the value of her life – was it to suffer, or to make her elder brother submit?
If that was the case, she might as well die.
Indeed, there were times when she couldn’t bear the torture and wanted to cry and beg for mercy. This unbearable pain permeated every moment. She wanted to die but couldn’t – Xie Fuchen had countless unimaginable methods to keep her neither dead nor truly alive.
It could be said that her later cruel methods of dealing with spies and political enemies were largely inspired by Xie Fuchen.
Only after experiencing pain herself did she understand where it hurt most, and what kind of pain was most unbearable.
“What made me want to persist and stay alive was the sky of Rangchuan.”
Zhen Wenjun, who hadn’t eaten anything for three days, used her last bit of strength on Wei Tingxu. She discovered that hunger and weakness were relative – as long as she clung to Wei Tingxu, she was still full of vigor like a warrior.
The two fought from sunrise to sunset. When Zhen Wenjun finally exhausted her last bit of strength, she lay on Wei Tingxu, panting, refusing to get up.
With her ear against Wei Tingxu’s abdomen, she could hear the sound from within when Wei Tingxu spoke. When she was young, she loved listening to stories this way against her mother, enjoying changing positions to feel the variations in sound strength from different parts of her mother’s body.
Like her mother, Wei Tingxu didn’t mind how she pressed or lay against her, instead using her fingertips to carefully arrange her disheveled hair, strand by strand.
“That day, the Xie family brought me and several household servants to the mountaintop, letting my elder brother watch from afar. The Xie family made us stand at the cliff’s edge with our backs to them, interrogating my brother. If he didn’t answer, they would push one person off after counting to several tens. They didn’t push in order – that person kept walking behind us. Sometimes their footsteps would stop, terrifying someone half to death, but instead of pushing that person, they would push someone unprepared beside them. Sometimes they would push someone before even counting to ten. In short, it was random – whoever they wanted to push, they would push, just a light touch and that person would fall into the abyss thousands of feet below. The screams were terrible, of course – I heard those sounds again in my dreams last night.”
Zhen Wenjun wasn’t quite sure about Wei Tingxu’s current attitude toward the Rangchuan tragedy. Sometimes she felt Wei Tingxu didn’t care at all, as she could recount numerous details with perfect clarity and emotional detachment. Only someone who had truly let go could speak in such a tone. Yet sometimes she felt Wei Tingxu could never forget – though her words were calm, her choice of words seemed casual but actually made listeners’ blood run cold.
“Then what happened?” Before Zhen Wenjun’s eyes was a bite mark near Wei Tingxu’s waist on her lower abdomen. The mark was wide, wider than even a fierce dog’s mouth by quite a margin – it must have been a scar from childhood that had changed as she grew. It had faded, but also grown larger.
“Then, I just kept watching the sunset in the distance. I don’t know the name of that mountain peak, only that it was very high. Standing at the edge of the cliff at the summit watching the sunset, with the twilight scene of swallows returning south, I became mesmerized. At that moment, I thought, if I could survive and leave Rangchuan, I would definitely take in all the most beautiful sunset glows in the world.”
“Were you… not afraid then?”
“I’m not afraid. Because I know they won’t kill me. They’re always looking for new and fresher ways to make me afraid, to make me beg for mercy, to shake my elder brother’s resolve. After a while, I saw through their tricks. As long as my elder brother doesn’t speak up, they won’t really take my life. Even if they push me to the edge of a cliff, they won’t actually do it. What they’re actually worried about is that I might suddenly jump down, so they put shackles on our feet, only letting go when pushing people down.”
Wei Tingxu was already very clever at that time, though praising her cleverness at this point seemed somewhat inappropriate.
“But others were very afraid,” Wei Tingxu said, “because they knew they were really going to die.”
Zhen Wenjun, worried that Wei Tingxu might feel uncomfortable being pressed against her without saying anything, turned over to adjust her position, lying flat and embracing her, letting Wei Tingxu rest on her arm.
“The feeling just now was like the sky of Rangchuan,” Wei Tingxu lay on her side, her hand resting on Zhen Wenjun’s chest, her eyes heavy with some fatigue, yet still interested in conversing with Zhen Wenjun.
Hearing her say this, Zhen Wenjun felt immensely gratified.
Wei Tingxu’s lower body was slow to respond to various sensations, with high endurance to trauma, which wasn’t necessarily purely a bad thing. But the accompanying problem that came with this gave Zhen Wenjun a headache.
She didn’t want Wei Tingxu to only feel pain. As she said, there are countless ways to feel happiness in the world, and what they were exploring together was the most simple, primitive, and direct happiness. This was something everyone was born able to experience, and Wei Tingxu should have it too. Zhen Wenjun wanted to give her all the best things in the world, especially what she should naturally possess.
Zhen Wenjun had already prepared that medicine. When they were in Runing and Wei Tingxu first directly stated she couldn’t feel conjugal pleasure, Zhen Wenjun began searching through medical books, combining various medical theories to develop a medicine that could enhance sensory experiences. This medicine’s concept originally came from Furong Powder, she knew its effects, but due to its addictive nature and significant side effects, it wasn’t possible to let Wei Tingxu take it just for temporary pleasure.
Regular aphrodisiacs wouldn’t do either. What Zhen Wenjun wanted was to help Wei Tingxu gradually repair her trauma and restore normal sensations, not to stimulate her body with drugs that would burden it more.
Could there be a medicine that would meet all her requirements?
She believed there must be, that it could definitely be developed.
She called it the “Ultimate Pleasure Pill.”
After creating it, Zhen Wenjun tested its effects on herself.
This pill was for external use, making whatever area one wanted more sensitive. Whether it was itching, pain, cold, or heat, all sensations became more acute and clear. Thus, when applied to the intimate areas (literally “deep peach spring path,” a euphemism for intimate areas), all touches and sensations would be greatly enhanced.
Embarking on the Path of Ten Thousand Directions was an arduous and extremely difficult journey. If distracted, one could easily lose their life due to carelessness. So throughout this journey, Zhen Wenjun hadn’t brought out the Ultimate Pleasure Pill, planning to use it for celebration after their complete victory and return to Runing. Wouldn’t it be the greatest pleasure to fully enjoy each other then?
Unexpectedly, the first time she took out the Ultimate Pleasure Pill wasn’t for celebration, but to leave no regrets before death.
I truly don’t know if this is good or bad.
When the Ultimate Pleasure Pill was pushed into Wei Tingxu’s body, it quickly began to heat up. With just a slight teasing from Zhen Wenjun, it caused some warm fluid to flow – something that had never happened before.
“Can you feel it?”
“A little.”
“What does it feel like?”
“Hot.”
“What else? Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Besides the heat?”
Wei Tingxu kept her eyes closed and didn’t speak.
“Don’t think I’m toying with you. I’ve only tested this Ultimate Pleasure Pill on myself, and since our constitutions are different, I worry the medicine might be too strong and harm you. You must tell me even the smallest sensation you feel, so I know how to improve it.”
Wei Tingxu was rocked by her movements several times, gripping tightly onto her shoulders, almost losing strength and falling off. Zhen Wenjun quickly held her steady, not daring to move her hand, wanting to withdraw.
“Continue…”
“Hmm?”
Wei Tingxu hunched her shoulders, her fingertips pressing harder into Zhen Wenjun’s flesh.
“Don’t pull out.” Wei Tingxu’s fine hair was slightly dampened with sweat, sticking to her peach-flushed face, her slightly parted lips red and alluring, as she told Zhen Wenjun weakly yet urgently, “That spot just now, it was perfect.”
That meant the divine pill was working.
Zhen Wenjun was overjoyed and carried Wei Tingxu into the bed, engrossed in the pink neck and flowers. The woman underneath her had her eyes narrowed and she was in a state of ecstasy. In the center of the flower, the red pearl was swollen and rippled with water. Zhen Wenjun minced in front of the valley, and Wei Tingxu catered to her, twisting her waist and swallowing her fingers to enter the valley, gently stirring the hot soup and gurgling the spring dew. She explored it two or three times and then pushed and stood on the ground, quickly pumping and slowly grinding deeply and shallowly.
Wai Tingxu’s fingers on Zhen Wenjun’s back clenched and unclenched, seeking to grasp something amidst the thrusting motions. As Zhen Wenjun repeatedly lifted, pressed, and pushed, suddenly striking a vital spot, causing an involuntary cry to escape.
The drug’s effects were slightly too strong. Zhen Wenjun felt some regret, thinking that for the first time, they should have used only half the dose as a trial, waiting until they had more experience before using a whole pill.
What Wai Tingxu called “a little bit” probably couldn’t be understood simply as a true “little bit.” If it were just a slight sensation, she wouldn’t have clung so persistently, exhausting both of them to the point where they could barely stop.
Zhen Wenjun held Wai Tingxu, able to see the sea through the small window of the cabin.
Another day was passing, the sun setting in the west. The majestic horizon and sea would soon enter into a quiet yet terrifying night.
Wai Tingxu had never experienced such intense cloud and rain (refers to intimate physical relations). In the secret valley, something connected to the earth’s pulse was continuously throbbing, not strongly, but each throb felt like stepping on an exposed wound – both itchy and numb. She fell asleep quickly while holding Zhen Wenjun’s waist, and Zhen Wenjun pulled a blanket over her.
After sleeping hazily through the night, before the sun rose from the sea the next day, Wai Tingxu woke Zhen Wenjun by rubbing her inner thigh against Zhen Wenjun’s leg. Another round of wet conquest followed. Though the drug’s effects had worn off and sensitivity had decreased, some residual sensations remained. They continued until Wai Tingxu’s waist felt like it would break, and when the pain overtook pleasure, she finally surrendered.
“We shouldn’t be too hasty, lest we harm your body,” Zhen Wenjun helped clean her.
There was no more drinking water left, let alone water for washing. They could only use filtered seawater.
“I’m not being hasty,” Wai Tingxu lay on the bed, letting her long hair hang down the edge. Zhen Wenjun sat below, helping wash her hair. In her heart, Wai Tingxu would forever be jade leaves and golden branches beyond price (refers to someone precious and invaluable). Even in dire circumstances, Zhen Wenjun didn’t want Wai Tingxu to be tainted by any filth.
Hearing her words that contradicted her heart, Zhen Wenjun smiled faintly and lifted her head to kiss her.
After the kiss ended, Wai Tingxu took a while to open her eyes, reluctant to part, thinking the kiss had been long and deep. When she opened her eyes to see Zhen Wenjun smiling smugly at her, it was completely the expression of someone pleased with their mischief.
Perhaps knowing her time was short, Wai Tingxu no longer maintained her strong defenses. These past two days, she had spoken much about herself – from childhood to adulthood, about herself, about the Wai family, and about Zhen Wenjun.
She said she never imagined this reunion would bring their relationship to where it was now. Initially, when she sought to find her benefactor, she only wanted to repay the kindness.
“Everything that happened afterward was unexpected, yet also natural.”
Zhen Wenjun slowly helped comb her hair, carefully tending to each strand of black silk.
How much Wai Tingxu trusted her now, entrusting her with all her inner fears, struggles, memories, and joys – all these private and precious things. And what about herself?
Zhen Wenjun had been pondering one question.
Should she tell Wai Tingxu her true identity? Tell her that she wasn’t actually her life-saving benefactor?
This was their final and most important barrier. If she didn’t reveal it, she would be deceiving Wai Tingxu until death, and how could she face reuniting with Wai Tingxu in the yellow springs afterward?
But if she revealed it, even these last moments of warmth would be difficult to maintain, and Zhen Wenjun didn’t want to die in bitter sorrow.
The initial truth and lies no longer mattered; at least now she wholeheartedly loved this woman, wanting to be good to her with complete devotion (“dead heart, collapsed ground” – refers to absolute dedication), wanting to give her everything.
Thinking of having her by her side, Zhen Wenjun could go anywhere.
Even death held no threat.
Fortunately.
How wise it was that Zhen Wenjun didn’t make the wrong decision when starving and dizzy, didn’t reveal her long-concealed true identity.
Because on the third day, they really saw land.
Xiaohua, dizzy with hunger, stood at the lookout post continuously watching the vast sea. As days passed, the shadow of death loomed more clearly on every living person’s face, making Xiaohua anxious (“heart burning like fire” – refers to extreme anxiety).
She began to think of various what-ifs, like if only they hadn’t come to the Road of Ten Thousand Directions, if only she had firmly opposed Zhen Wenjun’s proposal, if only she had stopped the lady when she first started planning the grand scheme… While Xiaohua was lost in these thoughts, she thought the land she saw was just a hallucination.
Zuo Kunda’s foot had rotted, fortunately with Zhong Ji treating him, otherwise it would have been useless long ago. However, if they continued drifting at sea, amputation might be the only way to save his life. When amputation was mentioned, he hesitated – what was the point of saving his life, could his life even be saved? “Body and skin received from parents” (refers to the traditional belief that one’s body should be preserved as it was given by parents), cutting off hands or feet would still lead to death, better to leave a complete corpse.
When death approaches, face skin grows thicker (refers to becoming more brazen).
Zuo Kunda went to confess to Miss Ah Xi.
Miss Ah Xi’s health had been poor since her fall into the water, coughing constantly. Ah Liao cared for her day and night, but perhaps due to her worried heart, no amount of medicine could improve her condition.
That day, Ah Liao took her out for some fresh air, and while she went to fetch her a shawl, Zuo Kunda came.
“I like you, will you marry me?” Zuo Kunda asked her.
“No,” Miss Ah Xi answered promptly.
“Oh.” Zuo Kunda left.
The first time in his life he liked a woman, nearly lost his life for her, yet she didn’t think anything of him. Zuo Kunda felt hurt and helpless, his foot hurting more. He won a mouthful of wine in a fight with people on the ship, came back to drink it alone, wanting to get drunk. Pitifully, that mouthful of wine only made him hungrier with no other effect.
Zuo Kunda cried himself unconscious on the deck.
Zhong Ji requested to spend a night alone with Xiaohua, but Xiaohua refused.
“My life is coming to an end,” Zhong Ji’s cracked lips were covered in blood, taking three breaths for every sentence spoken. “But with the Ghost Dove poison unresolved, I cannot die with closed eyes (refers to dying with regrets). Let me have one final battle with Ghost Dove before I die.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Cut along your spine from your back, drain all the poisoned blood at once, then suture and transfuse blood.”
“Transfuse blood? Whose blood?”
“Blood I’ve worked hard to prepare, carefully preserved until now. I wanted to do this earlier, but feared failure would cost your life. Now there are no more concerns.”
“…You may have no concerns, but I do. I refuse.”
“Could it be you want to die meaninglessly without value?”
“I must protect the lady’s safety. I won’t die.”
“So as long as Wei Tingxu doesn’t die, you must live, is that it?”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to kill Wei Tingxu.”
“Don’t go crazy.” Xiaohua tried to stop her by pulling her back, but unexpectedly, Zhong Ji was like a thin piece of paper, falling with one pull, her head hitting the deck hard and passing out.
While tying her up, Xiaohua contemplated killing her and slicing all her meat for the lady to eat. Zhong Ji was too thin; even if all her meat was stripped clean, it probably wouldn’t fill a small basin. How many days could the lady eat? It would wastefully cost Zhong Ji’s life.
When Xiaohua came to her senses, she realized she had been making excuses not to kill Zhong Ji.
No matter how long the lady could eat, preserving the lady’s life was most important; what meaning did anything else have?
She couldn’t be like Lingbi, caring for anyone other than Wei Tingxu, or it would be ungrateful betrayal.
Everything was for the lady.
“Why don’t you do it?” Zhong Ji had awakened at some point. Xiaohua’s knife remained suspended.
As Xiaohua stood to leave, Zhong Ji said: “You discovered it long ago, didn’t you? I’m not really a child. I became like this because of poison. The poison is called ‘Return Soul Water,’ making people age backwards. Ten years ago, I looked like a seventeen or eighteen-year-old maiden, now I’ve become a child.”
Xiaohua: “I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to know.”
“Oh? Then why did you ask that day if I could use the crossbow? What business is it of yours what I can or cannot do?”
Xiaohua said nothing more.
“If I could live on, in a few more years I would become an infant, then die. I’ve been searching for someone for many, many years without finding them, with only one clue – that person was poisoned by Ghost Dove.”
“You’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’ve never known you.”
“My appearance has changed greatly, how can you be so sure you don’t know me?”
Xiaohua turned back, the poison moving beneath her skin, like countless insects writhing, trying to break through flesh.
“In this world, I know only the lady.”
Xiaohua stood at the lookout post for a day and night.
Death was approaching, and how she wished to die by Wei Tingxu’s side. Even if they went to the yellow springs together, she could protect the lady on that path.
But sadly, the lady had someone else by her side now, surely no longer needing her.
Just as she fell into despair, the mainland appeared before her eyes.
“La… Lady!” After confirming she wasn’t seeing things, Xiaohua shouted excitedly for the first time. Wei Tingxu and Zhen Wenjun in the cabin heard her voice simultaneously and immediately dressed and left the bed.
Nothing but discovering land could excite Xiaohua like this!
Zuo Kunda, Ah Xi, Ah Liao and her women, along with the remaining less than two hundred followers, all came to the deck.
Everyone was so hungry their vision was blurry, a strong sea breeze could blow them away. They supported each other while gazing in the direction Xiaohua pointed – indeed, there was a yellow dot on the vast sea. The dot grew larger, and they confirmed it was the mainland! It was their life!
Many of the overjoyed crowd embraced and wept, even more broke into loud sobs.
Zhen Wenjun was overwhelmed with emotions. Fortunately, she hadn’t impulsively revealed her biggest secret, otherwise how could she face Wei Tingxu now that they had survived?
It was pitiful for Zhong Ji who had laid herself bare, and Zuo Kunda who couldn’t help confessing only to be rejected.
Upon landing, except for Yunzhong Feixue, all other horses had been slaughtered and eaten. Fortunately, there was a market here. Zhen Wenjun took people to buy food and returned for a feast. Many ate until they vomited but kept laughing and eating frantically. After filling their stomachs, everyone ran to the small town for a good sleep, finally without swaying, finally able to have sweet dreams on solid ground.
After eating and sleeping well, more than half of the two hundred followers ran away. This near-death experience had shown everyone how treacherous this journey was. The grasslands ahead remained uncrossed, the truly dangerous desert hadn’t been reached, and who knew how many deadly dangers lay ahead. Even with promises of high positions and rich rewards waiting, they wouldn’t continue – without life, no wealth could be enjoyed.
Zhen Wenjun had expected these people to leave and didn’t try to stop them. It was better that the cowards all left to avoid trouble. They had brought enough silver anyway, and this small town had not only a horse market but also people for hire. Though the local Hu people were dark and small, they looked energetic. Recruiting some followers here to drive carriages shouldn’t be a problem.
They just needed to figure out what these people valued, what things were worth money here.
Zhen Wenjun didn’t rashly recruit but instead took Ah Xi to browse around the market, asking questions at this stall and looking around at that shop. As expected, the ceramics and jade items were ridiculously expensive. Zhen Wenjun immediately decided to sell half of the ceramics and jade to earn money for transportation and personnel expenses, which would also lighten their burden.
They found local nobles who wanted to purchase trading rights and learned that the small town was called Suoda, a northern town of the Tiger region. The people here were even darker than those from the Guxi Kingdom, with flat noses, thick lips, and a fondness for piercing their ears. Everyone wore jewelry and gold, but only noble leaders were qualified to use jade. Obtaining trading rights only cost two pieces of jade, which was much easier than dealing with the Guxi Kingdom. There was no need to go back to the market, as the nobles bought all the goods Zhen Wenjun had brought. Zhen Wenjun used this money to buy carriages and horses and hire people, planning to rest for a few days before continuing forward.
She prepared a map and, through gestures and guessing, asked locals about the way, confirming that the Gulun Grasslands were indeed to the east. Zhen Wenjun, who had nearly died at sea, had once thought she had been deceived by Muge.
After resting in Suoda for seven days, they set out again once everyone was stable. With locals as guides, crossing the grasslands wasn’t difficult. They left the grasslands behind in less than fifteen days, moving stealthily and swiftly (“sneak like a shadow and chase like the wind” – a Chinese idiom meaning to move quickly and quietly).
Upon reaching Beixi, the southernmost town of the Gulun Grasslands, the Suoda people wouldn’t go any further. They took their remaining half of the payment and prepared to return.
“It seems they fear the desert too,” Zhen Wenjun, riding on the carefully preserved Yunzhong Feixue, watched them return while fiddling with the Ten Thousand Ways Compass. She noticed that the white sand distribution on the compass was extremely scattered, showing almost no pattern on its face.
Zhen Wenjun had an ominous feeling. She hadn’t yet deciphered the meaning of the innermost ring of text on the Ten Thousand Ways Compass, which seemed to contain the most crucial secret.
“Let’s go,” Wei Tingxu showed no fear, directing everyone to advance into the desert’s depths. Having reached the entrance of the Ku’er Jianshi Desert, there was no reason to turn back.
They bought camels and prepared sufficient water and food, sparing no expense to hire a local guide who claimed to have been to the Country of Flowing Fire. Everything was ready for their journey to the final destination.
They thought this desert journey would surely be more treacherous than the sea voyage, but unexpectedly, before they could encounter any dangers after entering the desert, they first encountered a major embarrassment.
Zhen Wenjun almost “married” the king of the Country of Flowing Fire.
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