Upon learning their journey could not continue, Lui Si anxiously clenched her fists and punched the air.
‘Ugh, this is infuriating!’
‘I’ve never even met Keke in person!’
‘She’s so close, yet utterly out of reach!’
Ling Yechen, standing nearby, interjected, ‘Why use a word like ‘out of reach’ in that context?’
‘Because it’s so fitting!’
‘Fitting for what, exactly!?’
Jing Lan cleared his throat softly.
‘As the old saying goes, plans rarely survive contact with reality. Let’s just spend the night here and explore a nearby attraction tomorrow.’
Lui Si slumped dejectedly onto the table.
‘If I can’t see Keke, I don’t want to do anything at all.’
‘Lui… Lui Si, please don’t say such things to your senior. He’ll be sad.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Little Lan Lan.’
Lui Si offered Jing Lan an apologetic smile.
‘Still, it’s quite a letdown.’
However, upon hearing they could attend a wedding that evening, Lui Si’s spirits immediately lifted.
‘Yay! There’ll be good food! And weddings are so auspicious! I can almost see my own future wedding with Keke…’
Ling Yechen, standing beside them, stammered, ‘Wh-what? With Keke…?’
Jing Lan contemplatively propped his chin with his index finger.
‘So Keke likes girls now…?’
Lui Si replied, ‘Not exactly. She said she wouldn’t like any boys other than her brother, but since she can’t marry her brother, she decided to only like girls.’
‘She never told me that. I’ll ask her myself next time. Besides, girls can’t marry each other, can they?’
‘They probably could if the world descended into chaos.’
‘In that case, she could also marry her brother, couldn’t she…?’
****
The wedding reception that evening was incredibly lively.
Broadly speaking, it wasn’t much different from other rural wedding customs across the country.
It was simply more boisterous.
Throughout the entire event, people engaged in antiphonal mountain singing—the lyrics improvised, the melodies drawn from popular tunes across the province.
The impromptu lyrics were not without their ‘interesting’ content, such as praises for the bride’s beauty, laments that she was wasted on such an oaf, or suggestions that the singer would make a better groom.
Yet, it was all in good fun, merely singing; no one actually made any inappropriate advances.
In that regard, it was far more civilized than the rowdy wedding night customs found in some other regions.
The locals, seemingly with a high proportion of extroverts, showed keen interest in the newcomers.
No sooner had Jing Lan and his two companions settled down than someone rushed over to offer a toast.
They then introduced Jing Lan to others, proclaiming, ‘This is the eldest nephew of Old Second, who hunts wild boars on Dingguo Mountain.’
Should anyone still appear unfamiliar, the toaster would elaborate, ‘He’s the great-grandson of Old Xiong, who planted rubber trees back in the day.’
Those listening would then nod, murmuring, ‘Oh, I see, I see,’ before raising their own glasses.
As Jing Lan might still need to drive soon, he opted for tamarind juice instead.
‘It seems your family is quite the local powerhouse here,’ Lui Si commented with a smile, peeling open a section of bamboo-steamed glutinous rice.
‘It’s a pity it’s modern times, or you’d likely be a young master.’
‘To be precise, it’s my mother’s side of the family that has some history worth discussing. It all began with…’
Before Jing Lan could launch into his discourse, the host, microphone in hand, began officiating the wedding.
‘Alright, we’ll talk more later. Just remember, when everyone raises their glasses for a toast, we’ll all shout ‘Sei! Sei-sei-sei-sei-sei!’ You just follow along.’
The actual wedding ceremony itself lacked much local flavor.
It consisted of bows, anecdotes about how the couple met, and a couple of songs performed by local singers.
Only the collective shout of ‘Sei-sei-sei-sei-sei!’ from everyone present could be considered a distinctive local custom.
Time flew by, and soon it was 8 PM.
Guests only then began to disperse, though many simply stayed put and started playing cards.
‘This is truly joyful. I hope I can have a wedding like this someday too.’
Lui Si leaned back leisurely in a bamboo-woven chair.
‘It doesn’t matter if it’s grand or not; I just feel like the people here are very kind.’
‘That’s not necessarily true,’ Jing Lan remarked, effortlessly opening a can of tamarind juice.
‘For instance, at that table by the window, a man has been watching us with ill intent.’
Lui Si startled. ‘Huh? Don’t scare me like that.’
‘He’s likely Dao Shangzou’s brother. The facial features are very similar, and he looks quite indignant.’
‘It seems the matter of the dog’s death isn’t over yet,’ Ling Yechen sighed, from his side.
‘We should leave quickly. Hopefully, he won’t cause us any trouble.’
Ling Yechen had never been fond of overly boisterous atmospheres.
Initially, the warmth and enthusiasm of the wedding guests had offered him a fleeting sense of comfort.
However, as his stomach grew full and a gentle warmth spread through him, his mind began to feel muddled.
Consequently, the trio did not linger for further festivities; having eaten their fill, they departed.
The trio’s accommodation was a small inn run by Baoguo Hotel, a quaint hut constructed from moso bamboo.
It was rumored to attract many tourists during peak season for overnight stays.
Once everything was settled, a weary Lui Si and Ling Yechen reclined on their beds to rest.
Jing Lan, stating he wished to clear his head, left alone.
It was already past 9 PM; the sky had completely darkened.
The streetlights in the small town cast a very dim glow, leaving several meters of path between each lamp almost entirely shrouded in darkness.
Although most households had not yet retired for the night, with lights still visible in many homes, everything inevitably succumbed to the blurring embrace of the night.
As he walked along the darkened path, Jing Lan’s thoughts raced.
He first pondered his own anxieties: having attended a mediocre university, his uncertain future, his dream of becoming an expert in otaku culture, and how to compensate for his poor academic record.
This led him to consider Ling Yechen, who faced similar struggles with the college entrance exam.
Jing Lan suddenly felt that he might be seeing a reflection of himself in this friend, whom he had known for two years but was only meeting for the second time.
‘Such a thought is truly tiresome.’
‘Do I truly hope he can make up for my own regrets?’
‘You’re not his old homeroom teacher; your concern for him should remain pure.’
Amidst his wandering thoughts, a figure approached him from the opposite direction.
‘Hm? Brother Dao?’
Dao Shangzou nodded, wiping sweat from his forehead.
‘I think I have a fever. Seriously, how can a dog bite be this bad? I’m going to the convenience store to buy an iced cola.’
‘Cola?’
Dao Shangzou nodded earnestly.
‘Yes, I met an old traditional Chinese medicine doctor who said cola is cooling, sweet, and can relieve headaches and fevers.’
Jing Lan scratched his head awkwardly.
‘Next time, take me to see him. I’d like to ask what medicinal value French fries and hamburgers have.’
As he finished speaking, Jing Lan suddenly recalled that the original cola formula was indeed derived from a headache remedy. Could that old TCM doctor actually be a genius?
Suddenly, approaching footsteps grew louder.
Jing Lan, startled, stepped aside.
A man darted between them, immediately reaching out to grab Jing Lan’s collar without a word.
****
Lui Si and Ling Yechen were both lounging on their respective beds, scrolling on their phones.
Lui Si was engrossed in a certain anime-style tower defense game.
Meanwhile, Ling Yechen was browsing music videos of his favorite band.
A real-time news alert popped up on his screen: [‘Zombies’ Spotted on Shanghai’s Bund].
‘How dull.’
Ling Yechen scrolled past the tweet without even a glance.
‘Drunken antics, or perhaps someone on drugs, flailing about like a zombie and causing trouble—it’s always these trivial public order incidents that get sensationalized into news.’
Lui Si, having just completed a high-difficulty challenge on her game, suddenly spoke.
‘Um, Ling Yechen.’
‘Hm?’
Seemingly regretting having initiated the topic, Lui Si fell silent for a while, tapping her screen with a flurry of clicks to collect her game rewards.
Nevertheless, she continued the conversation.
‘Do you… like Keke?’
‘What nonsense are you guessing?’
Ling Yechen denied it emphatically.
‘A quick denial will make it seem like I’m not guilty.’
‘It would be more plausible to guess I like Jing Lan, wouldn’t it…?’ Ling Yechen remarked, deliberately using a mocking tone.
He didn’t look in Lui Si’s direction, yet he could sense her watching him with an amused tilt of her head.
‘No, you’re lying.’
After another few seconds of silence, as if her observation had led to a conclusion, Lui Si stated with certainty, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips.
‘If I’m not mistaken, you came here this time fully determined to confess your feelings to Keke, didn’t you?’
****
Dao Shangzou pushed his younger brother, Dao Shangpao, aside.
‘Apao, stop making a fuss! It’s no big deal!’
In fairness, hitting a dog with a car was indeed not a major incident; such things happened frequently.
However, Dao Shangpao had lost all his money gambling that day, and an unidentifiable rage simmered within him, making him desperate to vent his frustration on someone.
Yet, upon learning that Jing Lan was not an outsider, extorting money became inconvenient.
Coupled with his good-natured elder brother’s insistence on defusing the situation, it appeared Dao Shangpao’s pent-up anger had nowhere to go.
Catching sight of the wound on Dao Shangzou’s arm, Dao Shangpao then demanded, ‘What if that wound of yours causes more problems?’
‘You can’t blame him for getting bitten, can you?’
‘You’re just too nice! You believe in silly bodhisattvas and always get bullied! If someone tries to harm you later, or sets a mad dog on you, will you still say you provoked the dog?’
Dao Shangzou, finding his brother’s incessant chatter tiresome, pushed and hurried him to go home.
‘Stop your blabbering! You’re concerned about me being bitten by a dog? I’m concerned about you getting into trouble again and ending up in the detention center! Hurry home, I’m going to buy a bottle of cola.’
Dao Shangpao muttered some defiant threats under his breath and walked away, looking disgruntled.
Likely anticipating Jing Lan’s curiosity about his brother’s wildly different temperament, Dao Shangzou pointed at his brother’s retreating back.
‘He’s been running with bad company since childhood. If he ever bothers you again, just ignore him.’
Jing Lan, having heard that Dao Shangzou believed in bodhisattvas, wanted to discuss local customs and inquire about Master Daosheng—his former teacher.
However, Dao Shangzou was terribly thirsty and pointed to the brightly lit convenience store in the distance.
‘I’ll treat you to a drink tomorrow. Right now, I need to go get a cola.’
****
He received a red plastic bottle from the shop owner, its packaging paper slightly rough and visibly crude.
Emblazoned on it in bold Chinese calligraphic script were four large characters: Ke Ri Ke Le.
This counterfeit cola was remarkably cheap, tasted somewhat off, was excessively carbonated, and its headache-curing properties remained unknown.
With a single gulp, every pore on his body shivered.
Having somewhat calmed down, Dao Shangzou remembered he hadn’t prayed that night—no major issue, as one of the three daily prayers could be silently recited.
The content of the silent prayer was simple, taught by the master who guided him to worship the new Bodhisattva.
After reciting it three times, Dao Shangzou suddenly recalled something: his master had seemingly told him a ‘heavenly secret’ last year.
Upon closer reflection now, a chill suddenly ran down his spine.
‘In January next year, disaster will strike.’