Chapter Fourteen: The Human Sacrifice

After Gong Baonan left, only Jiang Xiaodao and Old Cui remained in the city gate tunnel.

The two had just met for the first time and had somehow, in a muddled way, become master and apprentice. They exchanged glances, both feeling quite embarrassed.

Jiang Xiaodao crossed his arms, hesitated for a moment, then squatted down beside Old Cui, looking around helplessly.

Old Cui merely chuckled foolishly, not taking the initiative to speak.

“Uh... Master?”

“No, no, no, I’m not worthy of that.”

“Well... uncle?”

“Just call me Old Cui. It sounds reassuring.”

“My name is Jiang Xiaodao.”

“Good name, good name.”

Old Cui glanced at Jiang Xiaodao’s hand, hesitating as if somewhat afraid of him.

Jiang Xiaodao thought to himself, this person was quite talkative just now, why has he suddenly gone silent?

Sitting there staring at each other wasn’t a solution, so Jiang Xiaodao took the initiative to break the silence, asking, “How much can you earn in a day?”

Old Cui gave a dry laugh twice. “You’re a straightforward guy. I won’t hide it from you. Business hasn’t been good these past few days. I’m just waiting here for the temple fair to make some money!”

“What do you mean by ‘temple fair’?”

Old Cui forgot Jiang Xiaodao was inexperienced and hastened to explain, “It means catching the temple fair. On those days, there are many people, and everyone goes out with money in their pockets. If the timing is right, business goes well, and the money flows!”

Jiang Xiaodao frowned, “You call that business?”

“Why not?”

Perhaps offended by this, Old Cui immediately began to expound.

“There’s a saying: a world of martial artists and scholars, all trades and professions, the thirty-six businesses, seventy-two trades—if even one is missing, it’s not a marketplace; if one is lacking, it’s no temple fair!”

Jiang Xiaodao still looked disdainful. “People’s businesses are all about apprenticing and mastering real skills.”

Old Cui, however, looked proud. “No matter how skilled you are, if you can’t make money, what’s the use? Do you think anyone can just enter the temple fair to do business?”

“Then how?” Jiang Xiaodao was taken aback.

Upon further questioning, he learned that to do business at the temple fair, one must first get approval from the local trade guild leaders, then report to the local Jianghu Changchun Association, and finally be selected by the ground-renting financier before entering the fair.

The financier rents the land from the government, providing spots for Jianghu performers—this is called "setting up ground." The performers negotiate with the financiers about location, entry fees, or commissions—this is called “securing ground.” After completing these steps, they can enter the temple fair to “lay down ground” and do business.

Only by following this process can the various trades proceed orderly during the fair, ensuring that martial and scholarly businesses don’t interfere with each other; otherwise, chaos would ensue.

For the financiers, they must ensure the temple fair is vibrant and also understand the Jianghu thoroughly to guarantee that performers who enter have real skills, so they can earn more commissions.

Therefore, even beggars, as long as they can earn money, are sometimes intentionally allowed in—they don’t harm the scene and still bring in commissions.

Jiang Xiaodao silently memorized Old Cui’s words, as instructed by Jiang Chenghai.

---

“So how much did you earn today?”

Old Cui held up a silver dragon coin that Gong Baonan had just thrown to him.

“Besides that?”

Jiang Xiaodao asked.

Old Cui stood up, curling his lips. “You’ve seen it yourself—such heavy snow, who’s out on the streets? I think the two of us should find a place to rest.”

“Where to?”

“Aren’t you going home?”

Jiang Xiaodao also stood. “I don’t have a home to go back to! Besides, my father told me not to return home but to learn skills from you.”

Old Cui pondered for a moment, then suddenly understood. “I see! No wonder Gong Baonan told me to keep an eye on you. Xiaodao, with this heavy snow sealing the sky, it looks like you’ll have to stay with Old Lady Feng for the night.”

“What exactly does that old lady do? Why so mysterious?” Jiang Xiaodao was curious.

Old Cui shook his head. “Xiaodao, if you respect me, just listen to my advice: keep your mouth shut and don’t regret it! Don’t pry into others’ business. Just know she runs an inn.”

With that, Old Cui got up and left.

Jiang Xiaodao followed closely, puzzled as to why running an inn should be a secret.

It turned out that in Jianghu, there was a special kind of inn that did not open to outsiders but only accepted old Jianghu acquaintances. Prices were cheap, the clientele was mixed, and the proprietors were mostly savvy, well-connected tough characters.

Old Cui led Jiang Xiaodao through many twists and turns until they reached a small courtyard.

Although it was called an inn, there was no signboard on the door.

Before knocking, Old Cui whispered, “Xiaodao, your father told me to take good care of you. When we go in, no matter what anyone asks, just don’t say a word, understand?”

Jiang Xiaodao nodded in agreement. Old Cui then lightly knocked twice on the old red-lacquered door.

After a moment, footsteps approached, and a plump woman in her forties or fifties pushed the door open.

She glanced at them and suddenly chuckled, “Ah, Old Cui, where did this little boy come from? When did you switch to planting rice seedlings?”

Old Cui laughed foolishly. “Not seedlings, I recently took on an apprentice. Boy, this is Manager Feng!”

Jiang Xiaodao, as instructed, stood dumbly without speaking.

He thought: so this is Old Lady Feng. Probably because she was so fat and her face had no wrinkles, she didn’t look very old.

“Boy, speak when someone talks to you! What a lost cause!” Old Cui pretended to scold him, then smiled at Old Lady Feng. “Little brat, useless, never seen the world!”

Old Lady Feng’s attire was indeed intimidating.

Gold rings, earrings, bracelets, a gold necklace; she wore silk and draped white fox fur over her shoulders.

Jiang Xiaodao silently thought: The old empress in the palace probably isn’t any more extravagant than this!

Old Lady Feng was warmhearted, though. “Alright, Old Cui, with this wild weather, I’ll let you stay two more nights for free.”

“No, Manager Feng, I brought money today. I’ll settle the previous debts and get a bowl of soup noodles each for the two of us.”

Old Cui handed her the silver dragon coin Gong Baonan had given him.

---

Old Lady Feng snatched the coin, tucked it into her bosom, and smiled. “Well done, Old Cui! The temple fair hasn’t even started, and you’re already making money? Come inside and rest!”

Old Cui led Jiang Xiaodao into the courtyard and opened the door to the west wing.

Inside was a large dormitory with at least eight or nine Jianghu performers chatting on the kang (heated brick bed).

Old Cui clasped his fists and said, “Brothers, thank you for your hard work!”

“Old Cui, thanks, thanks!”

The people inside chatted about everything—Jianghu gossip, business, strange tales, and stories from the underworld. Jiang Xiaodao listened entranced, his heart filled with longing.

When it was mealtime, Old Lady Feng disregarded formalities and pushed open the door with a man, serving each person’s ordered dishes.

“Hook! Those two bowls of soup noodles are for Old Cui and his apprentice. Hurry and take them over so they don’t get cold!”

The man looked pale and emaciated, with mostly white eyes that were unusually murky.

Jiang Xiaodao shivered involuntarily just from looking at him.

Besides this man named Hook, Jiang Xiaodao was quite satisfied with everything else here.

Old Lady Feng smiled warmly. “Eat your fill! If it’s not enough, there’s more! In the Jianghu, we help each other out!”

“All right! Thanks, Manager Feng!” everyone laughed in unison.

The lively atmosphere made Jiang Xiaodao briefly feel a sense of home.

After Old Lady Feng left with Hook to deliver more food to the east wing, Jiang Xiaodao couldn’t help but marvel, “Who would have thought that the most popular inn in the city doesn’t even have a signboard!”

After dinner, as the sun set over the western hills, everyone joked for a while before gradually putting out their lights and going to sleep.

Jiang Xiaodao had traveled all day, braving the cold wind, and started having stomach troubles in the late night.

Opening the door, he hurried to the outhouse in the back yard and relieved himself.

Just as he was about to get up, he suddenly heard faint, eerie crying nearby, neither clearly male nor female, chilling to the bone.

Pulling up his pants, he tiptoed over to find a faint candlelight flickering behind the east wing.

Jiang Xiaodao was puzzled. The more afraid he felt, the more curious he became. After hesitating, he stealthily crept closer.

Peeking through a window crack, his pupils dilated in shock.

Old Lady Feng stood ghostlike opposite the window, holding a whip.

Inside the room were seven or eight children, the oldest about twelve or thirteen, the youngest six or seven, some missing limbs, some with faces disfigured.

They were crawling on the ground with hemp ropes tied around their necks like animals.

Truly, it was a living hell on earth!