Drowned Phoenix Night Talk

As dusk fell, Seventh Master and his henchmen approached the mountains, both men and animals exhausted.
They posed as a group of merchants trading mountain goods, swiftly making their way along the rugged official road.
The loads of gold, silver, jewels, grain, and cloth weighed down the animals, all stolen from the home of Huang Da, the richest man in Huangjia Village. Along with them was an exceptionally beautiful woman—Huang Da's daughter-in-law. She was the sole survivor of the previous night's massacre. Her mouth was gagged, and she was secretly tied to a pack animal; from a distance, she looked no different than a relative of one of the merchants in the group. At the beginning of the journey, the woman wept incessantly, tears streaming down her face. Later, her tears dried, and she stared blankly ahead with vacant eyes. She knew she was about to be abducted into the deep mountains where these bandits and robbers roamed, and she knew the dangers she would face. She wished for nothing more than to die soon, so she could catch up with her husband and father-in-law who had recently passed away. Along the way, the young lads, each with their own ulterior motives, would sneak up and grope the women when Seventh Master wasn't looking, their faces contorted with excitement as if they were addicted to opium. They knew perfectly well that once they reached the mountain, the women would be sent to Second Master's harem, and they would be out of their reach. Seventh Master, however, was not lustful. Every time he went down the mountain and abducted a beautiful woman, he would offer her to Second Master for his pleasure. Seventh Master only loved gold and silver, and he only loved killing. He was Second Master's trusted confidant. Second Master was the leader of the mountain stronghold, shrewd and capable, full of strategy, yet insatiably lustful, with a penchant for women, and skilled at manipulating them. No matter how fierce a woman was, she would eventually be tamed into a docile and submissive state in his hands. This was one of Second Master's special skills.
Seventh Master's group silently advanced into the mountains, the villages along the way gradually disappearing into the night. It wasn't until late
that night
, after finishing his duties at the mountain stronghold, that Second Master returned to his tent. Although Second Master was a bandit leader, he was handsome and refined, speaking with elegant manners. Before this, Seventh Master, returning from the mountains, had reported his descent, counted the money, and informed him that his "new woman" was a remarkably beautiful woman who had been sent to his tent.
He was satisfied with everything Seventh Master did, so he didn't need to expend much effort.
The so-called tent was Second Master's sleeping quarters, located behind the mountain stronghold's council hall, connected by a passageway. This stronghold was originally a mountain god temple, quite large in scale. The council hall was the most magnificent, followed by Second Master's tent. This tent was exquisitely decorated, clearly a secluded haven for a mistress.
Upon entering the tent, the Second Master saw the woman still weeping, the food brought by his servants laid out untouched on the table. He gazed intently at the incessantly weeping woman, and a sudden attraction struck him. The Seventh Master's eyesight was indeed remarkable; the woman's face was delicate and beautiful, a true lady of high birth. The Second Master was instantly captivated, his heart overflowing with joy. He ordered his servants to prepare a new feast to soothe the newly arrived woman's nerves.
Once the feast was served, the Second Master dismissed his servants and personally poured wine for the woman. Unlike most mountain bandits, the Second Master, though fond of women, was kind and compassionate towards them, never coercing them into adultery. He believed that women were ultimately soft-hearted and would eventually be moved. He had many methods for winning women over, the most effective being heart-to-heart talks, reasoning with them and appealing to their emotions, until he finally persuaded them to share his bed.
The new woman, seeing someone enter the inner tent, knew it was undoubtedly the bandit leader. She lowered her head and wept, refusing to look at him, her heart burning with hatred. The sudden calamity had already terrified her. Last night, she had watched helplessly as the bandit's long knife pierced the chests and backs of her husband and father-in-law, watching them convulse and struggle in pools of blood until they died. She witnessed the end of the Huang family, an end that came suddenly and inexplicably. She hated the bandit before her, the ruthless killer; she was his sworn enemy. In the second master's tent, she wept and awaited her death, lamenting her powerlessness to kill the bandit and avenge her family.
Seeing that his new wife ignored his weeping, the second master sighed and advised, "It's too late to cry now. The dead cannot be brought back to life; no one can change fate. It's all destiny; accept it." As he spoke, the second master pulled a handkerchief from his long sleeve and handed it to the woman.
She refused to take it, continuing to weep.
Second Master said, "Since the beginning of time, everyone has faced birth and death. Even emperors rarely live past a hundred, let alone ordinary people. To die is to end the troubles and suffering of this world; it's a blessing in disguise."
The woman cried even harder.
Second Master sighed again, leaned forward, and took out a handkerchief to wipe the woman's tears. The woman pushed his hand away, glared at him with tearful eyes, and cried out, "Kill me! Kill me..."
Second Master said, "I don't kill women, I only mess with women."
The woman choked out, "You're a murderous bandit, a murderous bandit..."
Second Master said, "It was Seventh Master who killed your family, not me, Second Master. But then again, even if I came down the mountain, I couldn't avoid killing. Killing is unavoidable, just like how you wealthy families can't avoid collecting rent."
The woman wailed.
Second Master shook his head and took a sip of wine by himself. When the woman's sobs subsided, he continued, "You women only know one side of the story. Do you know why the former bandit leader, Uncle Du, met his demise? The bandit stronghold had a rule: rob but don't kill. This rule was set by Uncle Du. He led by example, never shedding blood on his raids.
Later, Uncle Du fell ill and went down the mountain for treatment. Someone recognized him and reported it to the authorities. The person who recognized him was Chang Da-Zizi, the wealthy landowner of Changjiazhuang, whom Uncle Du had robbed. They spared his life then, but later, Chang Da-Zizi took Uncle Du's life… From then on, the stronghold changed its rule: no survivors. The killing I mentioned was unavoidable; that's the reason."
The young bandit leader's words reminded the woman of the sensational execution of a bandit leader. It was the second year after she married into the Huang family, in the autumn. The execution ground was on the riverbank east of Longquantang. Many villagers went to watch the spectacle; her husband and father-in-law also went. He returned beaming, saying the bandit leader deserved to die. The father and son even clinked glasses over it. She remembered the incident clearly, only not knowing it was about Uncle Du from the mountain.
The second master poured the woman a cup of tea and offered it to her, but she refused, placing it on the table.
The second master said, “Your voice is hoarse from crying, what’s the point? If crying could bring your family back, I wouldn’t stop you from crying, I could cry for you too. Do you think I don’t have things I want to cry about? Drink some water to soothe your throat. I won’t force you to drink, but you can’t skip meals. Even if you try to escape, you won’t get far, your legs will be weak from hunger, and I’ll have to catch you again. Eat, eat, try this plate of venison, it’s fragrant but not greasy…”
“Kill me, let me die…” the woman said, crying again.
“I don’t kill women, if I’m going to kill someone, I’ll kill them comfortably!” the second master reiterated his principle. At the same time, he reached out to wipe the woman’s tears. The woman was extremely beautiful, and he felt a surge of affection upon seeing her. He wouldn't kill her, nor would he let her go. He wiped away the woman's tears, then casually tossed the handkerchief into her arms, saying, "Don't cry. Let me tell you something else. I know you hate me, hate me a thousandfold. You asked me to kill you, but in your heart, you only want to kill me. Even killing me wouldn't be enough; you'd want to tear me to pieces. To be honest, even if you killed me, it wouldn't be a righteous death. Who doesn't know that those who walk the path of murder and robbery will eventually meet a violent end? But you don't know that once a person embarks on this path, there's no turning back; they must go all the way to the end." She realized that there are only two paths in the world, one bright and one dark, both leading to the same destination: the King of Hell. The bright path appears clear and flat, but it's incredibly crowded, filled with arguments, intrigue, and mental strain, never truly peaceful. Impatient people take the dark path, seeking relief and tranquility. "Listen," she said, "can't you hear a sound outside? It's like being suspended eight hundred miles above the ground. Listen..."
The second master was right; the night on the mountain was deathly silent.
Suddenly, the woman felt a fear more terrifying than death wash over her, as if she were in the underworld. She trembled all over, like a leaf in the wind.
Second Master said, “Did you hear anything? You can’t hear anything. We underworld people believe that the dark path is closer to heaven than the light path. Those who are kind on the outside but ruthless on the inside, those who are hypocritical and righteous, can’t get into heaven. On the contrary, bandits like us, who are cursed by thousands and cursed by tens of thousands, can get into heaven after death. This is because the great immortal guarding the gates of heaven knows that we are not to be offended. If we are offended, we might smash heaven to pieces in a fit of anger. Thinking about it, it’s better to let us in. So he half-opened his eyes and half-closed them…”
The woman's body trembled uncontrollably.
"Are you cold?" Second Master asked. He then stood up, took a woman's fur coat from the clothes rack, and draped it over her
shoulders. The woman tried to pull away, but Second Master pressed her shoulders down.
"It's much colder up here than down here," Second Master said.
The woman gasped, "Kill me! I'm scared, terrified..."
Second Master said, "Don't be afraid, there's nothing to be afraid of. There are guards outside, and I'm here inside."
"Go away, go away!"
"That's unreasonable. This is my home. Where are you going to take me?"
"I'll go, I'll go..." The woman suddenly stood up, the fur coat slipping from her shoulders to the ground. Second Master smiled bitterly, bent down to pick it up, draped it over her, and then pressed her down into a chair.
"Where are you going?" Second Master asked.
"I want to go home, let me go home..."
"You have no home anymore," Second Master said. "You're no different from me now, you have no way out."
The woman burst into tears again.
Second Master stopped trying to persuade her, returned to his seat, his face grim, and began drinking alone, cup after cup.
He drank a cup every time the woman cried, as if she were an accompaniment to his drink. Only when the woman's sobs turned into choked sobs did he slam the cup on the table, glaring at her and yelling, "Listen to me! Put away your little brat temper! I've seen plenty of bad tempers, not just you. Tempers are all spoiled, adults and children, men and women, rich and poor, it's all the same. If I starve you for three days, you'll know even a bandit's meal tastes sweet; if I sleep with you for three nights, you'll know I'm a rare find!"
The woman stopped sobbing in shock, staring at Second Master.
"Don't be afraid," Second Master said, looking at the woman's tearful eyes, a hint of pity in his heart. The woman lowered her head.
Second Master said, "I just said that a person can't be ignorant of the times, otherwise they'll end up with nowhere to go."
"I don't want a way out, I don't want a way out," the woman sobbed. "I really don't want a way out..."
Second Master smiled faintly and said, "That won't do. Even if you don't want a way out, I'll still show you one, come with me. I know you won't agree right now; you still want to kill me, you hate me, this bandit. But I want to ask you one thing: if I didn't become a bandit, but a beggar, begging at your Huang family's gate, would you give me some food?"
The woman was taken aback; she hadn't expected this bandit leader to ask her such a question. She pondered. She knew the answer was yes; she had never let a beggar leave empty-handed. Her husband and father-in-law were the same.
Otherwise, why would her father-in-law be called Huang the Benevolent? She thought this, but remained silent; she really didn't want to speak to this enemy.
The second master said, "If you don't want to say it, I'll say it for you. You'll give it to me. You're a kind-hearted woman. But let me ask you one more question: if I came to your door every single day of the year, asking for every meal, would you still give it to me?" "
..."
"If I complained about the coarse food and leftovers you gave me, and asked for rice, noodles, fish, or meat, would you give it to me?"
"..."
"If I'm full and then asked for a cup of hot tea or a bag of tobacco, would you give it to me?"
"..."
"If I'm sick and tired, and want to sleep warmly on your heated kang bed, would you agree?"
"..."
"It's getting dark, it's windy and rainy outside, I have nowhere to go, and I beg you to let me stay the night, would you agree?"
The woman listened and thought, and eventually became completely bewildered. She didn't know if such a demanding beggar truly existed in the world, and if so, what should she do? Could she satisfy his every whim? She didn't know. She really didn't know. Why did this bandit leader keep saying such nonsensical things? She hated him! But she had to admit that he had many strange and surprising ideas in his head, and she didn't know how to answer him.
The Second Master was pragmatic and didn't expect any answers from the woman. He said to her, "Then I'll tell you, such a beggar is not worth having; he's utterly detestable. Such a detestable person wouldn't even deserve to starve to death. As for me? I became a bandit precisely because I didn't want to be such a beggar. No matter what, being a bandit is better than being a beggar. A beggar takes people's things and their kindness, while a bandit takes everything but kindness, feeling at ease and carefree."
The woman felt that the bandit leader's words seemed to drift from another world; his words confused her, making it difficult for her to distinguish truth from falsehood and right from wrong. Furthermore, she found it hard to believe from his tone that he was a ruthless and wicked killer. Before being abducted to the mountain, she had never seen bandits; the villains she imagined were all blue-faced, fanged, and like demons. The murderous tyrant before her was handsome and refined, resembling a learned scholar, clearly a beast in human form.
The deep-seated hatred for the murder of her family rendered her unable to speak with this boastful bandit leader; all his persuasive words were useless against her, like spring rain on withered crops. Yet, she was deeply puzzled: why would this bandit bother talking to her? He didn't need to; in his hands, she was merely a lamb to the slaughter, with no escape. From the moment the bandits placed her on their pack, she understood they spared her life for another purpose. For a young and beautiful woman, that purpose was obvious.
Tonight, from the moment the Second Master entered the inner tent, she knew from his gaze that she couldn't escape; he wouldn't let her go—that was certain. His statement about not killing women stemmed from his possession of methods far more ruthless than murder. But she had already resolved to fight to the death, refusing to allow this murderous bandit to defile her chastity. Since she was no longer afraid of death, she didn't care about the consequences; she wanted to die with a clear conscience, otherwise she would have no face to meet her husband in the afterlife.
The night deepened, and the candles in the tent burned down to almost half their
flame. The second master showed no signs of fatigue, his conversation flowing freely as he poured himself a drink and continued speaking to the woman: "Don't just blame us commoners; it's unfair. It's true that banditry, murder, and robbery are crimes, so the authorities arrest them and execute them—it's their own fault. But think about it carefully, what profession in this world is without sin? Take the government, for example. They establish laws, oppress the people, extort their wealth, and if the people express the slightest complaint, they are seen as rebelling or plotting rebellion, and murdered openly." They commit evil with blatant malice. Furthermore, those in business are utterly unscrupulous, using large measures for small ones and selling inferior goods under the guise of mutton; craftsmen overcharge, cut corners, and cheat people in every way imaginable; teachers appear virtuous and learned but are actually shallow and incompetent, using empty rhetoric to mislead students; butchers slaughter pigs and sheep, their knives flashing and slicing, collecting their wages while leaving scraps for drinks without a shred of compassion; storytellers and opera singers feign virtue, displaying obsequiousness and hypocrisy, seemingly respectable but actually wicked. Stealing women and becoming prostitutes; even the lowest of beggars are no less sinful, constantly begging from this house and that house, kowtowing and groveling, spoiling you wealthy masters rotten. They scatter scraps of food from their fingertips and think themselves the merciful Guanyin Bodhisattva, unaware that their sins are far deeper. Relying on a few acres of land, they hire people to cultivate it, the laborers toiling away, the harvested grain being filled basket after basket into your wealthy masters' granaries… This world is inherently chaotic, devoid of distinction between day and night, good and evil, and utterly ignorant. "Hey, have you ever heard a folk song called 'Nothing Strange'? Wonderful, wonderful, let me sing it for you..."
Before the woman could reply, the second master began humming the "Nothing Strange" song: "If you see a rooster busy laying eggs, and a hen crowing, don't say it's strange, don't say it's strange; if you see a goat pulling a cart and a rabbit plowing the field, don't say it's strange, don't say it's strange; if you see a cat hosting a party and mice coming to the feast, don't say it's strange, don't say it's strange.
" "Enough! Stop singing! Stop singing!" the woman finally shouted, unable to bear it any longer.
Second Master paused, stopped singing, and a look of anger slowly crept across his face. He said, "Young Madam Huang, I know you're angry, resentful, and filled with lingering hatred. But let's be frank. Just because my men killed members of your Huang family, you consider me your sworn enemy. You think I'm wicked and deserve to be killed, but it's only because your family, Huang the Benevolent and his son, were harmed. If it were other Zhang, Li, Zhu, or Ma the Benevolent and their sons, would you hate me this much?
If our men came to your gate and threw chests of gold and silver over the wall into your yard, or tied herds of mules and horses to the animal harnesses outside your house, would you hate me this much? In the end, it's only because your father-in-law was harmed that you..." They've decided to hate me to the end. To be honest, my men didn't come down the mountain targeting your Huang family. That would indeed be unfair. Those in the underworld are always careless in their actions, not out of deliberate foolishness, but simply following fate. Fate cannot be defied, as the saying goes: what is meant to be will be. Seventh Master is a heartless man, and would never intentionally cause trouble for your Huang family. In the dead of night, they've wandered around until they reach your doorstep; no one can stop them. We can't refrain from doing our duty just because the wealthy man is surnamed Huang, nor can we show mercy and cross the threshold just because the wealthy man is called a benevolent person. Furthermore, since the murder was for profit, there's no reason to let the rich go and then target the poor. Poor families don't have gold or silver treasures. Only broken pots and pans are not worth anyone's attention.
To spare your rich family would mean killing and robbing hundreds or even thousands of poor families just to keep the mountain stronghold afloat. The poor are already pitiful enough; to take their lives for their meager possessions is not worth mentioning, nor is it right. But the poor have their uses. They may lack money, but they have boundless strength. You rich families hire them to plow the fields, to be like oxen and horses; we, the mountain stronghold, capture them to be laborers, also like oxen and horses—neither is a bargain for them. The difference is that they see you as benefactors and us as enemies. It's like a play; you play the good cop, we play the bad cop—it's all part of the same play. Each character has their role; none can function without the others, so why be so rigid? "Why must we distinguish right from wrong, good from evil? If I stab you today, don't hate me or be angry. If you stab me back tomorrow, I still won't hate you or be angry. There are no unresolved grudges in this world, and countless grudges and favors exist. We all live under the same sky, under the same sun and moon. Who can escape whom? Whether the dead go to heaven or hell, no one can say for sure, but the living still have to go on day after day. Just look at you and me. From now on, we will not only live under the same sky, but also under the same roof, eating from the same pot and sleeping in the same bed. Rather than holding a grudge, let's let go of hatred, forget the past, and start anew. Let's share happiness and sorrow, be close and loving..."
"Stop talking!" The woman was on the verge of tears but couldn't speak.
"Whether you want to hear it or not, I still have to finish what I have to say. A lamp won't shine if you don't adjust it, and words won't be clear if you don't speak them.
In this world, the deed is done, so don't think about going down the mountain to be some 'Little Madam Huang' again. Being a 'Little Madam' isn't necessarily a good thing. Little Madams will eventually become old and ugly, and no one will want to see them. You might as well take advantage of your youth, go out and explore, and have some fun. Staying with one man for your whole life is like a donkey pulling a millstone, going around in circles without any novelty. You are so lucky now; other women would be hard-pressed to find someone like that. If you weren't so pretty, Seventh Master wouldn't have brought you up the mountain. If you weren't so devoted to me, I wouldn't have kept you by my side, pampering and spoiling you like a kitten or a puppy. Second Master is a worldly man; what kind of woman haven't I seen? For me to be interested in you today is your good fortune; once this opportunity is gone, it's gone forever. Think it over carefully; you need to know which bed is warmer and which is colder. I'm not saying this to be arrogant, but among men, we are rare finds..."
"I don't want to hear it! I want to leave! Let me go!" the woman cried again. She was exasperated by the Second Master's words; she didn't want to hear his sweet talk anymore. She just wanted to leave this bandit's den as soon as possible, or die.
The Second Master remained unperturbed, grabbed the wine jug, and drank a few swigs. He put the jug down, sighed, and said, "It's a pity you didn't listen to a single word I said all night. Perhaps we really aren't meant to be husband and wife. If you really want to leave, I'll let you go."
"Really let me go?" the woman asked doubtfully, stopping her crying.
“I’ll let you go,” said the Second Master. “There’s a saying that forced melons aren’t sweet, and I never eat melons that aren’t sweet.
To put it bluntly, I’m a mountain king. I have everything I could want—gold, silver, jewels, silk, satin, opium, and more. I can eat anything that flies in the sky, runs on the ground, or swims in the river. But I’m not into that. I only like women. What’s wrong with that? Which emperor throughout history didn’t have three palaces, six courtyards, and seventy-two concubines? Which civil or military official didn’t have three wives and four concubines? Even that damned Little De Zhang, who had his penis cut off, still took a woman as his wife in Tianjin. Why is it that just because I like women, I’m committing a heinous crime? Isn’t this a double standard? It’s truly outrageous! One day I’ll catch a few corrupt officials, cut off their penises, and make them all learn from Little De Zhang!”
The woman looked at the Second Master in horror. The second master said, "Let's go back to you women. Every woman is a lowly thing. They pretend to be virtuous and proper, but aren't they all yearning for men? When they get married, they cry and wail as if their parents have truly pushed them into a fire pit. But if any parent leaves her at home as an old maid, she curses them a thousand times over in her heart. A widow vows to remain faithful to her husband until death, to erect a monument to chastity. But if that monument is actually erected, then she harbors a thousand resentments. Once a man shows interest in her, she feels offended and humiliated as if facing a great calamity. But if no man pays her any attention, she feels the world is dark and unjust."
The woman stopped crying.
The second master said, "If you really want to leave, then leave. I won't stop you, but you must do as I say." The
woman looked at the second master with tearful eyes.
"Look," the second master pointed to a wall in the hall. The woman looked in the direction he pointed and saw a sheathed knife hanging on the wall. Second Master said, “Listen carefully. After I fall asleep, take this knife, cut off my head, and take the scepter from under your pillow. With this scepter, you can move freely in the mountain stronghold day and night, and you can swagger down the mountain.”
The woman stared wide-eyed in surprise, looking at Second Master and then at the knife on the wall, hesitating for a moment.
Second Master smiled faintly and asked, “You don’t believe me?”
The woman remained silent.
Second Master said, “You should believe me. I swear I won’t lie to you. Bandits are men of their word. They’re ruthless to others and not kind to themselves. To kill others, you have to be killed yourself; that’s fair and reasonable. Whether you believe me or not, whether you kill me or leave, is up to you. I’m going to sleep now.” The woman lowered her head in thought.
Second Master began to undress and go to bed, taking off his clothes one by one from the outside in. In the blink of an eye, he was naked. At this moment, Second Master looked like a hard-boiled egg with its shell still intact, white and shiny, with a beautiful and healthy body. At first, the woman didn't know what he was doing. She only looked up when he said, "I'm going to sleep now."
"Ah!" the woman cried out, as if struck by lightning, almost fainting. Standing naked in front of her was a man with a thick, long, and enormous penis around his waist. His penis was incredibly impressive:
the glans, as big as a child's fist, was purplish-red and shiny; the thick base was like a spindle, with several veins clearly protruding. Although the entire penis wasn't erect, it hung long on her thighs, quite a sight! Her heart was pounding in her chest. Her eyes were instinctively fixed on the penis. She couldn't believe it was so "impressive," twice as thick and long as her dead husband's.
“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid,” Second Master comforted her, “It’s not the first time I’ve seen something like this.”
The woman covered her face and sobbed, her heart screaming, “Kill him, kill him!” But inwardly she couldn’t help but exclaim, “Wow! My God! What a magnificent, thick, long, and enormous ‘big meat stick,’ I hope I don’t bump into it…”
Second Master swayed his naked body onto the bed and fell asleep, soon snoring.
“Kill him, kill him,” the woman repeated over and over in her sobs. But another inexplicable instinctive concern lingered in her heart, and in her drowsy state, she only murmured until the window paper turned white.
The second night
On the third night, a fierce wind arose on the mountain, whistling and rattling the trees and rocks, one gust after another, as if all the demons and monsters in the world had come to wreak havoc on the mountain.
The Second Master remained unperturbed, sitting calmly in his tent, continuing to prepare wine for his new woman to calm her nerves. He adhered to his self-imposed rule of "a gentleman uses words, not fists," never forcing the woman to submit. His only transgression was exposing his naked body every night before bed. Rather than a vice, it was a method, a trick, not just against this new woman; he used it on all women who refused to submit. He believed this would help to influence women. In fact, its effectiveness had been proven countless times. He believed the same was true for this new woman. By
this time, the woman was exhausted, the hatred for her family's murder still etched in her heart. Needless to say, the scene from the previous two nights still terrified her, making her as frightened as a bird startled by a bow. Throughout the day, the moment she closed her eyes, a blinding white light stretched before her, impossible to dispel. Then there was the second bandit's incessant chatter, which both filled her with hatred and astonishment. This beast had endless things to say to a woman—from the Southern Dynasties to the Northern Kingdoms, from ancient wonders to clothing, food, shelter, and even birth, aging, sickness, and death—he seemed to know everything. She couldn't help but think of her husband. He had been good to her; since she married into the Huang family at nineteen, he had never raised his voice at her in the four or five years since, yet he had never talked to her all night like the second bandit. She grew increasingly confused. She couldn't understand his motives. If it was merely to possess her body, it would be easy for him; she would be like a lamb to the slaughter, powerless to resist. Or perhaps he had a penchant for talking to women? She felt this bandit was a complete monster.
Tonight, the atmosphere eased somewhat; the woman had stopped crying, perhaps her tears had dried up. Last night, Second Master told her about his past, which deeply moved her. She felt that this beast was both hateful and somewhat pitiful. He could have lived a stable life as the eldest son of a wealthy family, inheriting his father's business, becoming a lieutenant colonel as he had fabricated, marrying a beautiful daughter from a rich family, and having many children… But all of that was gone. His once happy family was gone, he couldn't even be a decent person, and in the end, he became a bandit cursed by thousands. She regretted speaking to him after he told her about his past last night. She herself didn't understand how she could talk to the enemy who killed her family. It implied a kind of dissolution of hatred, but that wasn't true, and she didn't want to. She wouldn't allow Second Master, the bandit, to interpret it that way.
Tonight's feast was even more lavish than the previous two nights, with vegetarian and non-vegetarian dishes filling the table. The woman hadn't eaten or drunk anything the first night, but on the second night, at Second Master's urging, she ate some vegetarian dishes. Sitting at the table tonight, she was indeed hungry, and deeply ashamed. Her husband and father-in-law had been killed by bandits, and yet she sat at their table with an appetite—truly unforgivable.
The Second Master had Lu Luo heat some rice wine, saying it was good for women. He poured some for the woman, while he himself drank the pungent white liquor.
The Second Master took the first sip.
"This is wolf meat," he said, pointing to a plate with his chopsticks. "These are wolf cubs we caught last winter. They were too small then, so we put them in a pen to raise. In a year, they've grown to a full size. I'll have someone kill one for you to try."
The woman gasped, thinking: Farmers raise pigs, sheep, chickens, and ducks, but these bandits raise wolves to kill and eat—they're clearly ruthless and vicious.
The second uncle said, “Wolf meat tastes pure, even better than dog meat. There used to be many wolves on the mountain, coming down in packs to ravage livestock and eat people, becoming a menace. The first thing we did after setting up camp on the mountain was to kill wolves. Now wolves are rare and no longer a threat, but the people down the mountain don't appreciate our efforts.”
The woman thought: What you did was a hundred times more ferocious than wolves; they hate us more than we hate them, so why should they be grateful!
The second uncle urged again, “Eat quickly!”
The woman said, “I don’t eat meat.”
“You don’t eat any meat?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps you’re doing good by eating vegetarian food?”
The woman remained silent, tacitly agreeing.
The second uncle smiled faintly and said, “Wolves are not benevolent beasts, so what’s wrong with eating them? In my opinion, eating wolves is the true act of kindness.”
He then picked up a piece of wolf meat and chewed it, his expression devout, as if he were truly doing a good deed.
The woman lowered her head.
The second uncle then pointed to another plate with his chopsticks and said, “This is tofu, just made today.”
“Can tofu be made on the mountain?” the woman asked.
“I can make it, but not very well. Try a little.”
The woman picked up a piece of tofu with her chopsticks and put it in her mouth. She thought the tofu was very flavorful.
“This is bracken fern. The little boy picked it on the mountain. In the old days, this vegetable was a tribute to the imperial court. It tastes really delicious. Try it.” The woman ate the bracken fern, and the taste was just as the Second Master had said.
“This dish is daylily, wood ear fungus, and sparrow eggs. They are all mountain delicacies. Try it.”
The woman ate a bite of the stir-fried daylily, wood ear fungus, and sparrow eggs.
At this moment, the Second Master picked up his wine cup, raised it to the woman, and said, “It’s your first time on the mountain. You ca n’t withstand the cold wind. Drinking a cup of wine will do you good. Drink up.”
The woman thought for a moment and finally responded to him. She took a sip from the cup. She wanted to escape tonight. Only if she drank would the Second Master drink more. Only when he was drunk could she steal the scepter. Of course, there was another way to obtain the scepter: to behead the Second Master while he slept. This was something the Second Master himself had taught her, but she knew she lacked the courage to kill. The Second Master must have seen through her to teach her this.
But she was determined to escape, to flee this den of iniquity before the Second Master defiled her.
The Second Master, seeing that the woman had given him face, was overjoyed and quickly drank another cup to show his appreciation.
"I know the women of your wealthy families are all good drinkers. Come, let's finish this cup." The Second Master poured himself another cup and raised it.
The woman said nothing and agreed. She drank it all. The Second Master was right; she did have a good capacity for alcohol. Before her marriage, at her parents' home, the women would gather for a few drinks during festivals, enjoying themselves—it was rice wine, homemade. After her marriage, her father-in-law and the men would often encourage her to drink a little, for the sake of liveliness and harmony. She had never been drunk.
But there was one thing Second Master didn't know: women only drink when they're happy, and this didn't seem to be the case.
Seeing the woman finish her drink, Second Master was somewhat flattered.
"Eat the fish. This was bought by the little boy when he went down the mountain disguised today. It's very fresh," he said.
The woman didn't touch her chopsticks.
"Aren't you going to eat the fish?"
The woman shook her head.
"Why bother?" Second Master also shook his head. "Even if you don't eat it, this fish won't be able to return to the sea alive, so it doesn't matter whether you eat it or not."
What kind of talk was that? the woman thought to herself.
Second Master chuckled, changing the subject, and said, "Whether you eat the fish or not is up to you. Let me tell you about the ways of eating fish in the underworld. Besides robbing and plundering, we also run a kidnapping business. We call the hostages we kidnap 'meat tickets.' If they're rich, we call them 'fat tickets,' and if they're poor, we call them 'lean tickets.' Sometimes you can tell at a glance whether they're 'fat tickets' or 'lean tickets,' and sometimes you can't. So we first host a feast, and after a few rounds of drinks, when they're a little tipsy, we bring out the fish and see where they start eating. Ordinary people will definitely pick up the fish meat, but rich people will first pick out the fish eyes and eat them. Once you see the difference with that one bite, you can determine the amount of ransom you need to demand from the 'meat ticket's' family. You see, there's quite an art to eating fish."
"Come on, let's have another drink,"
the woman agreed again.
"Actually, everything in the world has its own knowledge. Craftsmen have their knowledge, officials have theirs, soldiers have theirs. We underworld figures naturally have our own knowledge. There are 360 professions, and every profession can produce an expert. Furthermore, men and women each have their own knowledge, a vast field of study. This knowledge cannot be taught; it must be learned independently. Out of ten men, at most one will grasp it; out of a hundred, one will enter the field; out of a thousand, only one will master it. That one can be considered the top man..." …Speaking of which, I, your humble servant, think I can boast a bit. I'd be considered one of the top scholars in the imperial examinations. Every woman I've been with has been ecstatically pleasured, and every single one of them has fallen hopelessly in love with me. We may all be men, all have that thing, but our skills are vastly different. Of course, this skill doesn't come overnight; like the top scholar who passed the imperial examinations, it takes ten years of arduous study to achieve success. Anyway, I have nothing to do tonight. If you'd like to hear, I can tell you some stories about me and the women…”
“I don't want to hear it, I don't want to hear it!” the woman quickly protested.
“If you don't want to hear it, then you have to drink.” The man raised his cup.
The woman drank.
"Actually, it doesn't hurt to listen. Listen if you find it interesting, don't listen if you don't, it's up to you. I'm saying this for another reason, to let you know what kind of man I am. Since we live under the same roof, we should get to know each other. I know that no woman wants to sleep in the same bed with a man she doesn't know, but men don't care about that. So, in the end, it's all for you..."
"I don't want to hear it, don't say it..."
"If you really don't want to hear it, then you have to drink." Second Master said, raising his cup again.
The woman drank again. She preferred to drink.
"I first had an affair with a woman when I was nineteen, after I had joined the bandits. It was a large mountain in Yuhang. The bandit leader, surnamed Kuang, was a thin old man in his fifties. Everyone, from officials to commoners, called him Old Man Kuang. Old Man Kuang had killed someone in his youth and was sentenced to death, so he had no choice but to become a bandit. He was a skilled marksman and a martial arts master, and he was very fair to the brothers on the mountain. He had a wife who was very young, only in her twenties, and quite beautiful. Later I learned that her surname was Fang, and she was a wealthy woman whom Old Man Kuang had abducted from the foot of the mountain. Although Old Man Kuang kept her on the mountain, he didn't care much for her. Old Man Kuang was addicted to gambling. After finishing his duties at the mountain stronghold during the day, he would gamble with the other leaders at night, often for a long time." The house was lodging there. Madam Fang originally had a personal maidservant named Yang Qiao, whom everyone in the mountain village called Miss Qiao. She was also a respectable woman who had been abducted to the mountain by this group. She served the young mistress, who treated her well; the two wandered the mountain together, like sisters. But later, Miss Qiao's belly began to swell without her noticing. Old Man Kuang then had the young mistress ask Miss Qiao which child she was carrying, but Miss Qiao only cried and refused to say.
Old Man Kuang, helpless, spread the word that whoever claimed the child in Miss Qiao's womb would be allowed to take her as his wife. Unexpectedly, dozens of people jumped out, all wanting to claim the child. Old Man Kuang realized this was difficult and simply sent Miss Qiao down the mountain.
Miss Qiao disappeared without a trace, her fate unknown. After Miss Qiao left, Old Man Kuang feared... Having caused trouble, he stopped looking for another maid for his young mistress. He chose me from among the younger servants to serve her. My duties were mainly simple: delivering meals and water, and doing odd jobs. However, there were some tasks I couldn't do, such as washing her clothes and tidying up the household affairs. The young mistress was quite understanding and taught me step by step. Eventually, I learned. Sometimes when I went to the pond to wash clothes, she would follow me. If no one was around, she wouldn't let me wash and would start washing herself, telling me that these weren't men's jobs. This was the first time I'd heard someone call me a man; it felt novel and I was very happy. I then asked what men's jobs were. She smiled, a beautiful smile, her face like a newly blossoming flower. She said, "A man who doesn't know what men should do isn't a real man." She asked again, "How old are you this year?" Afraid she'd look down on me, I deliberately exaggerated, saying I was twenty-two. She looked at me with disbelief and said, "Are you really that old?" I said, "That's about it." She laughed again, saying, "You're still two years younger than me." She paused, then added, "But you are still two years younger than me." She paused again, then added, "But you're still a man." Sometimes, after hanging clothes on tree branches or rocks, she would take me to climb the ridge above the pool. From there, everything was clearly visible: the river, the village, the woods, the graveyard, the haystacks… The wind was strong on the mountain, repeatedly whipping her hair. She pointed to a place very far away and asked, "Do you see that village?" I said I saw it; there were two very tall trees at the village entrance. She said those were poplar trees. "Can you see clearly that it's a poplar tree?" I asked. She said, "No need to look, I know. My home is in that village." I asked her how many years she'd been on the mountain. She said she was only seventeen when Old Man Kuang kidnapped her, so it's been seven years now. I asked her if she missed home. She said she did at first, but not anymore. As the saying goes, "When you go up the mountain, you sing the song of that mountain." Having been the bandit's wife for so many years, she's gotten used to it, quite enjoying it. A single red flower amidst a sea of green, the only woman in the entire village, she gets to do whatever she wants, and Old Man Kuang doesn't dare to control her. I said Chief Kuang is a good old man, and she smiled and said, "A good old man, a good bandit, but not a good man." I said he's a good man. She said, "Shut up, what do you know anyway?" I didn't say anything.
She looked at me and asked, "Can I see you from here?" "Is this your home?" I said I couldn't see it. She asked if I missed home. I said no.
She asked again if I really didn't. I said yes, and she said, "You're a real man, you've got the makings of a chieftain. Work hard, I can help you." From then on, the young mistress often spoke well of me to Old Man Kuang. But she also ordered me around more frequently, asking me to bring her this and that, or endlessly cleaning up her messes. One time I got annoyed and said, "Isn't this clean house enough?" She got angry when she heard me say that and yelled at me, "If you don't want to work here, get out!" I didn't say anything. She continued, "Old Man Kuang entrusted you to me, that's your good fortune, you should know that. You have to do whatever I tell you to do, that's your duty."
At that moment, I suddenly understood. Come here, I shouldn't resist her. Compared to the other bandits in the stronghold, I was quite well taken with her. She treated me well too, like an older sister to a younger brother. When Old Man Kuang wasn't eating in the back tent, she would have me sit down and eat with her, and she often gave me little trinkets, some valuable, some not. Looking at it this way, I really was ungrateful. After thinking about all this, from then on I served her wholeheartedly. What
I want to talk about is that Mid-Autumn Festival night of the fifteenth of August that year, a day I will never forget. It's a day for family reunion. The stronghold was no exception. The stronghold was a big family, and every year on this day, everyone in the stronghold, regardless of rank or age, would gather in the stronghold's council hall to drink, eat mooncakes, eat fruit, and admire the moon. But this year, a major event occurred: a stronghold leader who had come down from the mountain... Arrested by the authorities and facing execution, Old Kuang, upon hearing this news, disregarded everything and hastily disguised himself and descended the mountain, his pockets overflowing with gold bars. Life has always had a price, like kidnapping in the underworld—a big life for a big price, a small life for a small price.
Old Kuang was a righteous man; no matter the cost, he would buy back his brother's life. After Old Kuang left the mountain, those remaining in the stronghold lost their will to celebrate. After dinner, they all returned to their respective camps to rest. That night, I still dined with my wife. She said that since it was a festival, we had to drink some wine. I knew she had a good capacity for alcohol and never drank rice wine; she drank the white liquor the men drank.
The message was relayed, and the kitchen brought wine and dishes. My wife said, "Old Kuang has come down the mountain; you'll drink with me now."
I said, "Thank you for gracing me with your presence, Madam." She smiled and said, "You've grown up, you know how to talk now, but tonight you'd better accept this pretentious, affected manner; I don't like seeing it." I nodded obsequiously, but inwardly I was puzzled: What's wrong with her tonight? Nobody has offended her. She was drinking strangely too, downing three cups in a row right away. I dared not refuse her drinks, so I also downed three cups in quick succession. She laughed again and said, "You don't need to act like a servant, be so coy. Tonight I won't treat you like a little brat, and you shouldn't treat me like a madam. You're a man, and I'm a woman. One male, one female, it's that simple. You can drink if you want, eat if you want, do whatever you want, it's up to you, I won't stop you. And you can't interfere with what I want to do." Now the alcohol was kicking in, and this old lady was about to start cursing. I asked her who she was going to curse, and she said she had a long list of people to curse, one after another, starting with Old Man Kuang. I said I shouldn't curse Chief Kuang; he's a good old man. She said he's a good old man, but not a good man. That bastard kidnapped me, a perfectly good virgin, and now he's just sitting there without laying a child. Don't you think I should curse him? At that time, I was clueless about matters of the heart and didn't understand what she was talking about regarding Chief Kuang. I could only agree and say that she should curse him if she wanted, since he couldn't hear me anyway. She said that after I cursed him, I had to drink a cup of wine with her. I said okay. I drank. She drank too, and I poured more wine. She said that after cursing Chief Kuang, I should curse my own parents. I asked why I should curse my own parents? She said that my own parents were heartless towards me. I've been kidnapped by Chief Kuang for so many years, and he's been hypocritical, sending people down the mountain every year to deliver gold and silver, receiving them every year, but they never dare to come up the mountain to see me, afraid of being accused of colluding with bandits. Don't you think I should curse them? I said I should. I drank another cup of wine. She said she'd cursed her own parents and then the government. From the day she came up the mountain, she'd hoped the government would rescue her, but those corrupt officials wore official hats and robes, exploiting the people while ignoring their needs, leaving her waiting all these years. "Shouldn't I curse them?" she asked. I said yes. She downed another cup. Then she cursed other people—the mountain chief, the young lads, the cooks—cursing people, then heaven, earth, mountains, birds, beasts, and insects… She drank cup after cup until she closed her eyes, slumped in her chair, and fell asleep. It was very late.
The whole mountain stronghold was quiet, the full moon shining brightly through the window paper. I thought I should leave; I'd never drunk so much tonight, and I was dizzy. I stood up, about to leave the tent, when the young lady opened her eyes and said, "I haven't finished cursing yet, and you're already leaving?" I said, "What else do you want to curse?" She said, "I'll curse you." I was startled, my mind clearing somewhat. I asked, "What did you say to me?" She opened her eyes and looked at me, then asked in return, "Don't you know what I'm going to say to you?"
I said I didn't. She said, "Think about it." I said I really couldn't think of anything. She said, "If you can't think of anything, I'll tell you. I'm saying you, this hot-blooded man, have a hard, cold heart of iron inside your chest. Do you think I should say that or not?" At that moment, I seemed to understand the meaning behind her words. My heart pounded wildly, my blood rushed through my body, but I didn't say a word. I didn't say whether I should say it or not.
She asked, "Are you leaving?" I said, "I'll do whatever you say." She smiled, her eyes narrowing into slits, very beautiful. She said, "I'm done saying it. You can leave if you want." I thought for a moment and asked, "Is there anything else you want me to do?" She said, "If there is, are you willing to do it?" I said, "Tell me, I'll do it." She slowly closed her eyes, and after a while, said, "I can't move anymore. Carry me to the bed."
At that moment, I didn't move at all, thinking I had misheard. She said again, "That day on the mountain, didn't you ask me what work men should do? This is it, this is what you men should do. Do you understand?" I nodded and walked towards her, behind her. I tried to lift her from behind, but it was impossible; her back was pressed tightly against the chair back, and I couldn't get a foothold. Just as I hesitated, she said, "Looks like you've never done this before, poor thing. Let me teach you. Come here, come to the front." I did as she said and walked to her. She glanced at me, smiled, and said, "Have you ever held a baby?" I nodded. She said, "It's like that, holding a woman and holding a baby are no different." I bent down, opened my arms to hug her, and touched her body—a first for me. I felt her unusually soft body. I picked her up, walked to the bedside, and gently placed her on the bed.
I straightened up and said, "It's alright, I'm leaving." She still had her eyes closed and said, "The work isn't finished yet." I asked, "What else?" She said, "Take off my clothes. I never sleep naked." Strangely enough, in that instant, I felt an impulse, not the previous panic, but an uncontrollable urge. I strongly felt the attraction of her body lying flat on the bed, and I suddenly realized that tonight I was about to do something I had never done before. Although I thought this, I knew I must not act rashly; everything had to follow the woman's lead.
I said, "Let me undress you." She was wearing a soft satin jacket with a diagonal opening. I unbuttoned it one button at a time, composed myself, and then turned the jacket to one side like turning the cover of a book. This initial impression has remained to this day; whenever I undress a woman, I feel like I'm turning the pages of a book. What I saw was a dazzling expanse of white, like a blank page. She wasn't wearing any underwear. This was something I hadn't expected. The woman I imagined wasn't like this. This caught me completely off guard. I so abruptly saw the woman's mysterious bare breasts.
My initial excitement froze instantly. My eyes were fixed on her chest, completely bewildered.
Then she opened her eyes and smiled—a smile undoubtedly directed at my stunned expression. She said, "You're the man at this door." For a moment, I didn't understand what she meant and remained silent. She said, "Give me your hand, I'll lead the way."
I obeyed. I held my hand out to her. She took it, looked at it, and then placed my hand on one of her breasts. Almost simultaneously, I felt my manhood tremble as if burned, and my whole body shook. I must have cried out then. I can't recall those moments later. I heard her giggle, and at the same time, she placed my hand on her other breast. She stopped laughing, and her small hand gently massaged mine. She said, "These are the two doors of a woman's body, do you understand?" I foolishly shook my head. She said, "First you have to know how to knock. You can only enter after you knock." I nodded, equally foolishly. Then she removed her hands, closed her eyes again, and let me caress her breasts. She made muffled noises as if saying something, but I couldn't hear her, nor did I care. I was simply lost in ecstasy, kneading her breasts back and forth, thinking to myself, "So this is what men's work feels like. Why has no one ever told me this before? And now it's this woman."
As I caressed her breasts, I admired them. With my eyes today, I was certain they weren't a woman's breasts, but rather the unborn breasts of a young girl. Small, but exceptionally firm. Slightly upturned, gleaming with a porcelain-like luster, her two small nipples resembled two just-ripe cherries. As I gazed at them, a sudden urge arose within me to take them into my mouth. At that moment, fear vanished; I thought of nothing else but fulfilling my desire. I knelt before the bed, pressing myself closer to her chest. Her eyes remained closed, her face occasionally showing the expression of a baby about to cry. I lowered my face, my trembling lips finally touching the nipple closest to me. I felt my heart tremble again, and I abruptly took that bright red nipple into my mouth. I clearly heard her gasp, "Ah!" I was startled, thinking I had bitten her, and quickly spat the nipple out, looking at her face with alarm. Then she opened her eyes, her tearful expression turning into a smile. I whispered, "Did it hurt?" She didn't answer, still smiling. After a while, she said, "You're okay, really okay." I said, "I'm not okay, I don't know how." She said the master could only guide me in; the rest was up to me. I listened, seemingly understanding but not quite. Then she slowly raised her hands, cupped my cheeks, stroked them for a moment, and pulled them to her chest. This time, I couldn't wait any longer and took her nipple into my mouth again, sucking desperately, making a gurgling sound. After some time, I heard crying—her sobs. She cried and whimpered, "Eat, eat, look how hungry I've become…" At this point, Second Master stopped, his expression somber.
"And then?"
"Cheer up, let's have a drink first," Second Master said.
The woman didn't say anything, picked up her cup, and drank with Second Master.
"The matter between men and women is a matter of the heart; no one can truly explain it. One can clearly tell others about the pain one suffers, but the joy one experiences is indescribable…" Second Master sighed.
"…"
“That night I didn’t leave; the young mistress kept me. We were intimate until midnight, and she told me it was time to go home. She asked me to take off her pants. She wasn’t wearing any underwear either. I pulled them down by the cuffs.
I saw her completely naked body. I can’t describe how I felt then. I just stared in astonishment at everything on her body, finally fixing my gaze on that mysterious place between her legs. She said my feet were itchy, so I scratched them. She said not there, a little higher. I scratched her knees. Still not the right spot, she told me to go higher. Then my hand moved to her smooth, silky thighs, and I felt like I was touching satin. Then I heard her say, a little higher. I hesitated for a moment, then finally placed my hand between her legs. I heard her sigh deeply and murmur, ‘Yes, yes, we’re home. This is a man’s home. Come in…’
‘My God!’”
“I went in, and that was a moment I'll never forget. She was absolutely right; I truly felt like I was ‘home.’ More than just home, it was my golden palace. My lifelong pursuit of women, my never-ending thirst for them, I think, must have been related to this first woman I found. She showed me the warmth and joy of ‘home,’ and naturally, all of this is indescribable…”
“And then?”
"I stayed at 'home' for three nights, three nights of utter despair. On the evening of the fourth day, Old Man Kuang returned to the mountain. The gold he brought had worked; the leader's life was saved, but he was badly injured. Old Man Kuang left him at the foot of the mountain to recover. When I saw Old Man Kuang, I was startled at first, and then a thought popped into my head: how wonderful it would be if he never came back. Of course, that was wishful thinking. I quickly realized: that 'home' didn't belong to me; it belonged to Old Man Kuang. I had only occupied it for a few nights. Thinking of this, I felt very sad..." Afterwards, my affair with my young mistress continued, of course, it had to be done secretly. We also had many advantages. I could freely enter and leave my young mistress's private quarters, and whenever I had a chance, I would do my thing. Whenever Old Man Kuang gambled at night, we had even more time together. During the day, I would go to the pond to wash clothes, and she would follow shortly after. We would hang the washed clothes on the tree branches, forming a circular screen, like an open-air tent, where we would make love and have fun, which was quite a unique experience. My wife was very fond of me; she would become restless if we didn't see each other for even half a day. And I spent my days scheming: how could I become her husband forever? But whenever I thought about the practicalities, I realized I was just indulging in wishful thinking. As long as Old Man Kuang remained the chieftain and I was still a nobody, nothing could change. It was from that moment that I conceived the idea of becoming the chieftain myself… “I began to imagine how I could climb to the chieftain’s throne. After much thought, I realized there were only three options: first, kill Old Man Kuang and take his place; second, please Old Man Kuang to rise through the ranks, and then take his place once something happened to him; third, simply go down the mountain, raise my own army, and become the king of the mountain. Weighing the options, I felt that the third one was the most feasible and straightforward. The only problem was how to go down the mountain with my little wife… “Before winter arrived, the mountain stronghold was peaceful. The leaders drank and gambled, and the servants ate their provisions and patrolled, each fulfilling their duties. But this was in previous years. This year, the government deviated from the norm and surrounded the mountain in the snow. Later, I learned that this was an order from their superiors that they had no choice but to do.” As the saying goes, officials and bandits are in cahoots, and that's absolutely true. Bandits rob the people of their money, give some to the government as bribes, and the government's suppression of bandits is just a show. Everyone gets what they want. But this time, the government's siege of the mountain ruined my and my wife's plans. We can't get down the mountain, and worse, my wife is pregnant..."
"What should we do?"
"This can't be hidden from Old Man Kuang. He's been keeping his position secret, so he naturally knows that the child my wife is carrying isn't his. Old ginger is spicier than ginger; he remained calm, secretly figuring out which of my wife's lovers was involved. He quickly suspected me. That day, he summoned me to the main tent and dismissed everyone else. Only he and I remained, and he began his interrogation:
Did you know that my wife is pregnant? Knowing that there was no need to beat around the bush now, I truthfully answered that I knew. He then asked: Is this child yours or mine? I said it's mine. He was slightly taken aback; he hadn't expected me to confess so readily. He stared at me with murderous intent: "A country has its laws, a family has its rules, and a mountain stronghold has its own laws. Do you know your crime?" At that moment, I knew I was doomed. I wasn't
afraid of death; what I was thinking about was how Old Man Kuang would deal with the young lady. I had to clear her name before I died. I said I knew my crime. I had been so audacious as to defile the young lady while she slept. I had failed the chieftain and begged for death. Old Man Kuang looked at me with a mixture of belief and disbelief, but the murderous intent on his face faded. I saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Suddenly, I remembered the time I demanded the return of the longevity lock from the boat owner, and the powerful lesson it had taught me: what force cannot achieve can be achieved through other means—words. At that moment, I resolved to use my words to save my life. I said, "Chieftain, please forgive me. I have committed a capital offense and deserve to die.
I will die a thousand deaths." But thinking back on all these years I've followed the chieftain, his kindness to me is as heavy as a mountain. I'm truly attached to him and reluctant to leave. Now that I've committed an unforgivable offense, I'm willing to repay his great kindness before I die. If I had vast wealth, I would offer it to the chieftain; if I had thousands of acres of fertile land, I would offer it to the chieftain; if I had beautiful sisters, I would offer them to the chieftain. But I have none of these; I am utterly destitute in this world. But upon further reflection, it suddenly dawned on me that I do indeed have something to offer the chieftain. This thing is neither gold nor silver nor pearl nor jewel, but it is a priceless treasure, something I dare say the chieftain has longed for day and night. This thing is none other than the little chieftain I'm carrying in my wife's womb. I beg the chieftain to calm his anger. Let me explain in detail: The chieftain is nearing sixty, and few live to seventy. Even if the chieftain is blessed with longevity, he will eventually reach a hundred years of age. A century later, the legacy the chieftain had painstakingly built throughout his life would vanish, all his gold and silver treasures falling into the hands of two different families. I doubt the chieftain would willingly accept this. However, once the chieftain has a son, a successor, everything will be different. Not only will the chieftain's ancestral graves be filled with incense smoke, ensuring the lineage continues for generations, but the village's legacy will also be inherited. I dare say the village will rejoice at the chieftain's birth of a son, and from then on, the village will flourish and prosper. My words come from the heart, from genuine feelings, and from the chieftain's perspective. I hope the chieftain will not hold grudges and carefully consider the matter, weighing the pros and cons. I know the chieftain is not rash, short-sighted, or narrow-minded. Seeing the chieftain dismiss the others just now, I felt a sense of clarity and knew the chieftain was confident. There's a saying that a prime minister's belly can hold a boat, but I, the chieftain, have a belly that can hold a boat and fly a kite... Old Kuang listened to me silently, his expression shifting rapidly. I knew he was swayed by my persuasion. I had hit the nail on the head. He had what I didn't, and I had what he didn't. He wanted all the good things in the world. And this one was right in front of him. At that moment, I could guess what he was thinking.
And what I was thinking was: to use all my tricks to persuade him to accept my gifts. That way, the young mistress would be safe, and as for myself, I was sure he wouldn't let me go...
"Did he let you go?"
Second Master said, "Let's have another drink."
The woman agreed again.
Putting down the wine cup, Second Master continued, "As I expected, after thinking for a long time, he said to me: '
If we keep the young chieftain, we can't keep you!'" "I said, whether I live or die doesn't matter, as long as the chieftain is happy, I can die in peace. I just don't know how the chieftain intends for me to die?" Old Kuang snorted and said, "First, have someone cut out your tongue, so you can shut your mouth before you die and stop bothering me." I said, "Chieftain, please don't do that! When my tongue was in my mouth, I could control it, preventing it from talking nonsense and harming the chieftain. But after it's cut off, I can't control it anymore. If it reveals the young chieftain's origins, I can't bear the consequences." Old Kuang said, "Can your tongue still speak after it's been cut off?"
I said, "Absolutely." Old Kuang said, "Then I'll split open your head and see how many twists and turns are inside." I said, "Chieftain, you absolutely cannot treat me like this." Old Kuang said, "What? Am I supposed to thank you for getting the young lady pregnant?!"
I said there was no need for thanks, but I was still thinking of the chieftain's sake. The chieftain has always been kind and righteous to the brothers on the mountain, that's universally acknowledged. Now, he's so cruel to me. The brothers must be baffled: why does the chieftain hate such a good-natured, dutiful young man who serves the young lady so diligently? They'll surely think I had an affair with the young lady, that I got her pregnant. The chieftain will naturally find out the truth. This will not only damage the chieftain's prestige but also ruin the young chieftain's reputation. It will have endless consequences. Old Kuang said bitterly, "Then I'll secretly kill you.
Throw you into the ravine to feed the wolves, and you'll be gone without a trace." I said, "Actually, that's not how it works. I can hide it from the brothers, but not from the young lady." Old Kuang said, "If you harm the young lady, do you think she'll speak up for you?" I said, "Chief, you only know one side of the story. As the saying goes, 'A day as husband and wife is worth a hundred days of kindness,' and besides, I'm the father of her child; there will always be some lingering affection. Let me say something unpleasant: you, sir, are already old and not fond of the bedchamber. How can you expect your wife to yearn for you? The heart of a husband and wife often drifts apart because of infrequent intercourse. If this drags on, who knows what might happen?" Old Kuang snorted again and said, "According to your words, I should treat you with respect, provide you with good food and drink, and have you handle my affairs with my wife. What do you think?" I said, "Of course, that's good. But I don't think the chief has such a magnanimous heart, so I dare not ask for more. I only hope the chief will expel me from the mountain stronghold as punishment." "Did he release you?"
"Yes."
"Did you see your wife again?"
"No." Old Kuang forbade me from entering the inner tent again, but he dared not lock me up. He believed my words, and locking me up would arouse suspicion among the brothers on the mountain. Just before he let me down the mountain, the young mistress secretly sent her new servant boy to give me a note with eight characters written on it: "It's easy to dodge a spear in the open, but hard to guard against an arrow in the dark." After reading it, I understood her meaning: I should be wary of Old Kuang's underhanded tactics when I went down the mountain. That evening, after dinner, Old Kuang let me go down the mountain. The snow was heavy, and the whole mountain was white. The foot of the mountain was filled with government troops' camps. The road intersections were all surrounded by government offices. This mountain stream became the passage for the people in the mountain stronghold to go down the mountain, and they used this passage to replenish their food and supplies, while the government troops were completely unaware of this. Old Kuang specified that I should take this route; in fact, he didn't need to say it, because saying it would have revealed the danger involved. When I reached the middle of the mountain, it was already dark, but the snow was still very bright. I stopped. I took off my cotton-padded coat, trousers, and hat, soaked them in the stream until they were completely saturated, and then put them back on. A bone-chilling cold immediately washed over me. I started running faster, partly to keep warm, and partly to escape Old Man Kuang's clutches as quickly as possible. When I reached the narrowest part of the stream, what the young lady had predicted happened: archers lying in ambush above the stream began their attack. I heard the whistling of arrows flying through the air and the 'thud' of arrows hitting me. My soaked coat blocked the arrows, but I pretended to be shot and die, lying prone on the ground. The thuds continued behind me for a long time before finally stopping. I lay motionless on the ground. Only when the ambush men returned to the mountain stronghold did I get up, pull the arrow shaft from my coat, and run down the mountain…”
“Did you escape?”
“Of course, if I couldn’t escape, I wouldn’t be here drinking and talking with you.”
“And then?”
“Then I fulfilled my wish of becoming the chieftain.” "
Then what about the young mistress... and the young chieftain?"
"They're both dead."
"Dead?"
"Dead. In the third year after I left the stronghold, also in winter, the government troops finally captured it. Chieftain Kuang, seeing that all was lost and there was no way to turn the tide, first went to the rear tent and killed the mother and son. Then he took his own life."
"Heavens!"
"That concludes my story with the young mistress. Later, I went through countless women, and thus accumulated countless stories, each one enough to tell all night. If you'd like to hear, I'll tell them one by one."
"..."
"Let's drink." "Second Master raised his cup again.
The woman hesitated for a moment, then drank. She felt a little dizzy. She didn't know if the dizziness was from the wine or the story Second Master had told. She just felt that her escape plan for tonight might not be feasible.
Second Master quickly recovered from the somber mood of his storytelling. He drank cup after cup, as if his body were a vessel for holding wine. Emboldened by the wine, he reached out and patted the woman's shoulder, saying, "Stories are just stories, they're all in the past. No matter how good the young mistress was, she's no longer alive. The dead go to heaven, but the living still have to live their lives day by day. You're the same."
The woman felt a pang of sadness at his words, and a surge of resentment rose within her. But thinking about it carefully, what else could she do?
Second Master patted the woman's shoulder again, then touched her cheek, saying, "Tonight I'll tell you the real deal. You stay here and be my wife, and I'll treat you like a concubine, and I'll treat you well, is that alright?"
The woman lowered her head and remained silent. The second master said, “
Every woman I’ve been with has fallen for me in the end. Women come in all shapes and sizes—fat, thin, tall, short—but none have ever been as devoted to me as you. If you submit to me, I promise I will never touch another woman. I will be your devoted wife forever, is that alright?”
“…” The woman remained silent.
“Since meeting you, I’ve understood that my desires for women were insatiable before. I wanted to possess every woman in the world, all because no woman could satisfy me. My first woman, my little wife, held a very high place in my heart. No one after her could compare. But now I feel you can replace my little wife in my heart. So from now on, I will no longer be distracted. Actually, seducing a woman is a very tiring thing for a man; it takes effort and words. Who would want to deal with those shady women when they have a good woman?” "
..." Silence.
"Let's take another step back. Even if you don't think of me or you, but only think of the women down the mountain, you should agree to my proposal. With you, the women down the mountain won't be forced to come up here anymore. They can live peacefully. It's all thanks to you. You're a kind-hearted woman. How could you refuse to do such a great deed?"
"Let me think about it..." the woman said. She immediately regretted it; how could she have said such a thing?
"Alright, think it over, and tell me when you've made up your mind. Come on, let's have another drink." "As the Second Master said this, he picked up the wine jug and began to gulp down the wine.
The wind outside had died down, and the night gradually quieted. It was almost midnight; the mountain winds always subsided at this time. A few long, melancholy brays of donkeys drifted from the distant foothills. Then came the barking of dogs—the rhythm of the night, enticing one to sleep.
The Second Master savored the pleasure of the new woman's tender, tight vagina tightly enveloping his glans, feeling the soft flesh of her vagina contracting incessantly around his penis." She clenched her fists, the depths of her vagina gripping the tip of his penis tightly, as if sucking on it—a sensation of indescribable pleasure. At the junction of his penis and her vaginal opening, a trickle of vaginal fluid slowly flowed, mingled with patches of blood, adding a touch of poignant beauty.
The woman felt a burning, intense heat emanating from her lower body; a thick, hot penis was inserted into her honeypot, constantly expanding, until it felt as if it were about to tear her apart, causing her to moan involuntarily.
Seeing the woman's beautiful face contorted in pain... The second master was suddenly filled with tenderness and affection. This woman was amazing! Not only was she beautiful and had a stunning figure, but even her vagina was intoxicating. He bent down and showered her pretty face with kisses, his lewd tongue forcefully forcing open her cherry lips that were trying to escape, delving deeper into her mouth, entwining with her fragrant tongue, and sucking her sweet saliva. Her whole body exuded a captivating fragrance, like orchids and musk, which further fueled his lust. "Mmm...mmm..." The woman's cherry lips were sealed, and she could only utter sounds like... Her panting breaths were even more alluring; she felt the engorged penis inside her honeypot swell even larger, stretching her opening outwards. The tender flesh within gripped the invading object tightly, making her whole body burn with desire, giving her a feeling of almost ascending to heaven. Under the Second Master's forceful assault, her lust surged, and her slender hands began to wander unconsciously over his body, constantly caressing his strong muscles. This man's body was undulating and intricate, with bulging, firm muscles; his stamina must be astonishing.
"Sister, you are so beautiful, like a fairy descended from heaven. No woman in this world can compare to you. You are the little wife that heaven sent back to me." The Second Master, between sucking strokes, breathed hot air, sincerely praising her. She was indeed the epitome of womanhood; every part of her captivated him, every part ecstatic.
"Mmm..." The woman was completely out of her mind from the Second Master's teasing and stimulation. Seeing his praise, she blushed with shyness, her words uttering incoherent sounds, her mind blank. At this moment, she craved only physical pleasure. The penis inserted into her honeyed orifice made her unbearably itchy, and she couldn't help but twist her waist and sway her hips, hoping it would go deeper and help quell the burning desire within her.
The Second Master grinned lewdly, feeling a surge of triumph. This refined young lady, the daughter-in-law of a wealthy family, who had just lost a family member two days ago, was now finally lying beneath him, emitting unbearable moans, waiting for his favor. He knew that if he served this woman well tonight and made her feel good, she would serve him wholeheartedly and become a part of his life.
The second master's waist began to thrust, one stroke after another, pumping in and out of the woman's tight, moist orifice. His large glans constantly rubbed against the tender flesh inside. The hot penetration and the waves of intense pleasure and pain from her lower body made the woman unable to bear it any longer, and she began to moan loudly. Her eyes were filled with burning desire, her cheeks flushed, her cherry lips slightly parted, emitting seductive moans. Her full breasts swayed with the second master's thrusts.
"Oh...oh...you robber...bandit...kill me..." With each intrusion of his penis, the woman's beautiful face contorted, tears streaming down her cheeks, emitting moans of both pain and unbearable agony. At
the point of their union, her flesh gripped his penis tightly, swallowing and releasing, enveloping it tightly. With each thrust, the woman's vagina trembled and contracted, massaging his glans and his entire penis, causing him to involuntarily moan. The sensation was exquisite! The tightness and pressure surprised him; he had never experienced such intense contractions before. With each contraction, he groaned. Waves of unparalleled pleasure coursed through his penis, making him feel like he was floating on air.
He gritted his teeth, suppressing the urge to ejaculate, and slowly withdrew his penis. To truly conquer this woman, he couldn't afford to ejaculate too soon. Each time he withdrew, his rough hands were never idle; he would gently caress her glistening clitoris or knead her full breasts. Under his teasing, the woman's vagina secreted copious amounts of lubrication, the ample lubrication easing her pain.
The hot, throbbing penis began to slowly advance and retreat, filling the woman's vagina with a pleasurable friction. The rhythmic "plop, plop" sounds of its thrusting were incredibly clear in the silent valley, causing the young woman's face to flush crimson with embarrassment. With each thrust, copious amounts of sticky fluid were squeezed out, the glans scraping away remnants of her hymen, each movement eliciting a complex moan of both pain and pleasure from the woman. Waves of intense frictional pleasure surged from her lower abdomen, causing her snow-white body to tremble uncontrollably, making her feel dizzy and breathless. The indescribable beauty almost melted her, leaving her mind blank.
The man continued to thrust his penis in and out of the woman's burning vagina. The sounds of his penis repeatedly striking her lower body mingled, the man's heavy breathing and the woman's pained yet slightly coquettish moans echoing loudly in the desolate valley.
The second master kept changing positions, lifting one of the woman's jade-like legs and placing it on his shoulder, then aiming his penis at her vagina and thrusting it in from the side entrance. The woman blushed, letting out a soft "hmm," her beautiful face contorted, it was hard to tell whether it was pleasure or pain. Slowly, she would sway her pink buttocks, welcoming the second master's thrusts.
This position allowed the penis to penetrate deeper, the vagina receiving full penetration, causing her vaginal fluids to flow continuously from between her labia, down her deep and sexy buttocks, onto the bed, soaking a large area of the sheets.
The gripping force of her vagina created a comfortable pressure on the hot penis, and the second master, watching the woman moan and groan beneath him, felt inexplicably excited, his animalistic instincts intensified, and he began to increase the speed of his thrusts. The sounds of "crackling" and "slapping"
continued, pounding against the woman's tender vulva until it was overflowing with glistening fluid. Her labia turned inside out, revealing her red pubic flesh, which was tender and lovely. Waves of intense dizziness and numbness made her even more frantic. "Ah...ah..." Her eyes were glazed over, her cheeks were flushed, and her face was flushed with desire. Her body trembled and convulsed, and she collapsed onto the wooden bed like a limp rag, about to faint.
Second Master felt the woman's narrow, fleshy opening, along with her petals, wrapped around his penis. The tender flesh of her vaginal walls gripped him tightly, drawing him in. He clearly felt waves of wet, sticky heat stimulating his penis, making him feel so good he could hardly hold back. "Ah... um..." Second Master's movements became even rougher, his thrusts faster and faster. He thrust his ever-expanding, throbbing penis deep into the woman's vagina, as if he wanted to tear her little hole apart. After about fifty thrusts, Second Master felt a violent contraction from the woman's tight little opening. With a soft moan, her bright red body convulsed, and a large amount of nectar flowed from her lower body, spraying onto his glans. He roared like a wild beast in pleasure. He gripped the woman's two tender, full breasts tightly with both hands, and thrust his penis in with all his might, slamming it against her cervix, resulting in a series of violent ejaculations.
The powerful thrusts left the woman panting heavily, her body trembling and convulsing, unable to move an inch.
Both reached their climax simultaneously. The second master collapsed onto the woman, tightly embracing her delicate body, sweat pouring down his face. Their heavy breathing echoed for a long time in the silent valley.
After a long, long time, the woman slowly opened her beautiful eyes. She felt a thick thigh pressing tightly against her, and though she tried to get up, she was too weak.
"Be my wife, okay?" The second master also woke up, pressing his hand against the woman's genitals.
"..." Still adorably silent.
"So this is it, no response?" With that, the second master flipped the woman over, pressing her nipple into his mouth again, his hands caressing her smooth back... His manhood gradually hardened again, pressing forcefully against her buttocks... "My God!" The woman felt utterly helpless now. It was as if the young mistress was standing right under the bed watching her…her husband was watching her…even her father-in-law was watching her…it was all too late…she had become the second master's concubine, cut off from her body…her tears rolled down the second master's chest. “You robber…bandit…I hate you so much…kill me…”
The second master patted her back: “Sweetheart, don't cry, I love you.”
Strangely, the image of the young mistress flashed before her eyes again, but not in the back tent of Old Man Kuang's mountain stronghold. Instead, it was on the mountain, in the “tent” she had carefully concealed with her wet clothes. And she saw the young mistress's sweet smile, heard her sweet voice.
That night, the second master took her for a second time, and the mountain returned to silence.
[The End]

[The End]

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