The Remaining Third Chapter Forty-Six Followers of Sima Bei

The van screeched to a halt by the roadside, and the door was yanked open. An elderly man stepped out, clad in a coarse gray linen robe. His hair was black, eyebrows white, his cheeks aglow with a healthy flush. He stroked the two streaks of salt-and-pepper beard under his nose, cast a sweeping glance at the marks on the ground, then crouched down. With thumb and forefinger, he pinched a bit of blood-stained earth, rubbed it thoughtfully, then rose and slowly walked toward the spot where Zhang Yunxi had once hidden her racing motorcycle.

A young man, dressed in a tracksuit riddled with patches, jumped down from the driver’s seat. Misjudging his step, he tumbled headlong to the ground. Blood immediately streamed from both nostrils, but he quickly sprang up, wiped his nose with a grimy black sleeve, and pretended nothing had happened as he hurried after the old man in gray.

The old man glanced back at the patched youth, shook his head helplessly, and muttered, “Other masters find better disciples, and my own apprentice can’t compare. What sin have I committed to deserve this?”

The patched youth rubbed his nose and replied with distaste, “You say that as if I was desperate to be your apprentice. Other masters are university professors, run publishing houses, own detective agencies, and have beautiful daughters…” At this, he swallowed involuntarily. “And what do you have? A decrepit Wuling van about to be scrapped?”

The old man cast a cold look at the back of the youth’s head. “Born with a rebellious skull. I bet it feels nice to give it a good whack.”

“Oh, stop it. You’ve tried that trick before, only to blame your broken hand on my hard head and demand medical expenses from me,” the youth retorted, rolling his eyes. “You can forget about squeezing any more out of me. Just look at my situation—do you think I have a penny left anywhere on me?”

The old man cleared his throat, bent down to pick up a twig, and deliberately changed the subject. “That girl really has no sense—using pine branches to cover a motorcycle. If she didn’t clear off the needles, she’ll end up with a backside full of splinters…”

The patched youth glanced at the motorcycle tire tracks on the ground, and a rapid string of numbers flashed through his mind. “Two people, ninety-three kilograms in total. I know how much Yunxi weighs—who’s the other eighty-eight-pounder?”

The old man smacked his lips. “Sun Tiantian. She’s the second apprentice of my master’s daughter—the one I mentioned to you before…”

The patched youth tilted his head, blinking. “Is she pretty?”

“True to her name,” the old man said solemnly. “She’s a sweet, lovely little thing, with a voice as soft as sugar. Petite—makes everyone want to protect her. Everything about her is wonderful, except she’s just a bit too…”

Before he could finish, the patched youth interrupted, “A timid girl is nothing to worry about—timidity is cute in a girl.” He rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Does Tiantian have a boyfriend?”

“These years she’s been traveling everywhere with Sister Luo Hong, barely a moment to herself, let alone time for romance,” the old man sighed. “Truth be told, it’s a shame—such a wonderful age, all spent dealing with the dead. I’ll have to speak with Sister Luo Hong to find her a good match.”

The patched youth deliberately stood in the old man’s line of sight, ran his fingers through his straw-like bangs, and coughed. “Master, I think we shouldn’t let outsiders benefit from our own. Let me take on the responsibility of protecting Tiantian. If anyone dares lay a finger on her, I’ll show them why the flowers are so red!”

“You…” the old man snorted. “You can’t even get out of the car without falling on your face, and you talk about protecting anyone? It’s a joke. Of all the things I’ve taught you, is there a single one you’ve mastered? You spent three years on the mountain, and all you did was sleep!”

The patched youth took a deep breath and patted his chest. “Master, you don’t know. Though I slept during the day, every night I got up to practice what you taught me. Maybe not supernatural yet, but at least I’m highly proficient now.”

The old man pursed his lips. “Is that so? Show me, then.”

The patched youth spread his hands. “I’d love to, but with no opponent, I can’t exactly demonstrate.”

“All talk and no substance,” the old man scoffed. “The blood stains on the ground are your precious Tiantian’s. Judging by the marks, her thigh was injured. Didn’t you just say you wanted to protect her? Here’s your chance. Go.”

The patched youth’s face hardened, a fierce intensity radiating from him. “Which bastard laid a hand on her?”

The old man pulled a stick of gum from a nearby tree, fished out a small slip of paper from inside, unfolded it, and scanned the few words written there. He handed it to the youth. “They’re long gone. Playing the hero now is pointless. Go to this address—your Tiantian and Yunxi are both there. They’re not out of danger yet.” He pointed at the tire marks. “They’re being tailed.”

At once, the patched youth’s eyes lit up. He spun around, heading for the van, but looked back to see the old man still standing there. “Master, don’t dawdle—opportunity waits for no one. No, I mean, lives are at stake!”

“You go on your own,” the old man shook his head. “I won’t be following this time. I have other matters to attend to. Besides, you’ll have to stand on your own two feet sooner or later. Take this as a chance to prove yourself. Run, boy—strive, fight, shine! Show the world what Sima Bei’s apprentice can do. I’ll be cheering for you from the shadows!”

The patched youth stared at Sima Bei, memories of their years together flashing through his mind. His nose prickled, and he choked out, “Master, are you—like my grandmaster—nearing your end?”

“Bah!” Sima Bei’s face twitched. “What nonsense! I’m as sturdy as ever—could wrestle ten bulls if I had to. There’s a reason I’m sending you alone. Off with you now.”

“Master, that sounds a little ominous…” The patched youth sniffled and looked Sima Bei up and down. “You really don’t look like you’re about to kick the bucket—your complexion is rosier than a new bride’s on her wedding night. So… I’m really going?”

“Go!” Sima Bei waved him off impatiently. “If you keep dawdling, your Tiantian will be carried off as someone’s captive bride.”

At those words, the patched youth’s mind conjured up an image of Sun Tiantian tied to a post, calling out to him in tears. He hastily waved goodbye to Sima Bei, slid into the driver’s seat, and, his face taut with anxiety, started the engine and sped off.

Sima Bei watched the van disappear from sight, sighed, then turned and strode into the depths of the forest, raising his voice in song and startling a flock of birds into flight:

“Today is a good day, when all you wish for will come true…”