OBS Chapter 362 Many Things Happen in the Three Rivers
Chapter 362 Many Things Happen in the Three Rivers
Chapter 362 Many Affairs in the Three Rivers
That evening, every household on Tanwei Street closed their doors early as usual, with only a few oil lamps casting a dim light. Old Man Zeng had searched all day but only managed to find a few jobs, which weren't even enough to earn him a day's worth of food. So he returned home early with a sigh.
Inside the room, Zeng Amei was waiting with a bowl of prepared incense ash. This time, she had also asked her neighbor for some sesame oil to mix in.
She carefully lifted Geng Jingzhong's sleeve, looking at his bruised and swollen shoulder, her voice trembling slightly: "Young master, how could you be so foolish? There are so many of them, couldn't you have run away?"
Geng Jingzhong smiled faintly, and like Guan Yu in the play who had his bone scraped to remove poison, he calmly extended his arm for her to apply medicine: "If I run away, they will think I'm scared."
Just as Geng Jingzhong had predicted, the Lin family servants' actions were merely for their own selfish reasons, and naturally there was no reason for them to use their official status to settle personal scores. However, he knew too little about the common people and did not expect that sometimes the methods of revenge among ordinary people could be quite simple and straightforward.
This afternoon, Geng Jingzhong was sitting idly at home when he heard a series of chaotic footsteps coming from the alley entrance. Looking up, he saw five or six street thugs blocking the alley entrance, each of them bare-chested and holding wooden sticks as thick as bowls. They were obviously thugs gathered by the Lin family's servants.
Faced with this situation, Geng Jingzhong slowly stood up and patted the dust off his trousers.
Instead of retreating, he walked towards the crowd. The first blow landed squarely on his left shoulder, sending a sharp pain through his bone. He groaned and endured it. The second blow struck his waist and abdomen. He dodged to the side, the stick grazing his ribs and sending a burning pain through him.
Taking advantage of the moment when the opponent withdrew their stick, Geng Jingzhong suddenly reached out and grabbed the wrist of the man in front. As the man cried out in pain and dropped the stick, Geng Jingzhong swung the stick back and struck him on the cheekbone.
The man screamed and fell backward to the ground, blood gushing from his nose and mouth, smearing his face. He rolled on the ground, howling like a pig being slaughtered.
Then, wielding a wooden stick and taking advantage of the narrow alleyway, Geng Jingzhong fearlessly knocked these street thugs to the ground.
It wasn't that his skills were particularly superior, but rather that the sons of military families had always been trained to strengthen their bodies and had never lacked supplements of chicken, duck, fish, and meat during their growth period. In contrast, these street ruffians came from impoverished backgrounds and had suffered hunger and hardship since childhood. Naturally, they could not compare to Geng Jingzhong in terms of strength or spirit.
After a cloud of dust cleared, Geng Jingzhong stood there, his left shoulder swollen and his mouth cut, dripping blood. But the ruthlessness that emanated from his very bones made these usually domineering scoundrels feel fear.
"Who else is coming?"
Geng Jingzhong's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a murderous aura. The thugs looked at each other, and none of them dared to step forward. In the end, the group hurriedly helped the injured man up from the ground and fled in a sorry state.
At this moment, the incense ash applied to the wound brought a cool, stinging sensation. The discomfort from the fight, which had caused her blood to rush, reappeared. Zeng Amei lowered her head as she applied the medicine, her fingers trembling slightly. "Young master, someone outside is looking for you. They seem to have been waiting for a long time."
Geng Jingzhong didn't speak, he just looked out the window.
Outside the Zeng family's wooden house, five or six teenagers, some sitting and some standing, were gathered together. They were all excited. The boy in the lead had dark skin and was staring intently in the direction where Geng Jingzhong was, his eyes full of eagerness.
Tanwei Street wasn't large, so the story of Geng Jingzhong's victory against five opponents spread quickly. The street urchins in front of them all lived here and had seen their elders and neighbors exploited and had had enough of the local thugs. Upon hearing of Geng Jingzhong's heroic feat, they wanted to join his ranks.
After applying the medicine, Geng Jingzhong moved his injured arm for a bit before slowly walking out of the house.
"Are you really here to vote?"
The tall, thin boy quickly said, "We know that our eldest brother is skilled in martial arts and must be an expert in fighting and subjugation! We also want to learn his skills to avenge our family!"
The colloquial term for hand-to-hand combat and weapon fighting is "da jiang". "Jiang" means to surrender, and it originally meant to subdue someone by beating them. It was also called "da xing".
The practice of "Da Xingzhe" (打行者) originated during the Wanli era of the Ming Dynasty and reached its peak during the Chongzhen era. Its members were divided into three classes: the upper class consisted of scholars and sons of noble families; the middle class comprised sons of wealthy families from various trades in the city; and the lower class consisted of idle, peddling, and street ruffians.
Ultimately, it was a group of people who were brave and fierce and sold their strength that formed a dynamic social organization. It should have first appeared in the Suzhou and Hangzhou area. The government officials mistakenly wrote "打行" as "打降", and the name has been passed down ever since, which is why this name is also used in Fuzhou.
Geng Jingzhong was known for his aggressive fighting style, fearlessness, and the fact that he had come to escape disaster and whose accent and appearance did not resemble those of people from Fujian led the local youths to believe that he was a skilled fighter from out of town who had taken refuge there to avoid trouble.
Geng Jingzhong initially did not want to get entangled with these teenagers, but this attack reminded him that he was now alone in Tanwei Street with no one he could use. If he could take this opportunity to recruit these teenagers, he would have more useful forces.
He looked at the five boys in front of him and slowly nodded: "Get up."
Seeing that the other party agreed, the five boys tucked the sticks that the street thugs had just thrown away into their waistbands and eagerly stuck to Geng Jingzhong's side. Geng Jingzhong was not stingy and said that he could teach them some martial arts the next day, and then take them to chop wood and carry water to build up their strength.
………………
Since Old Man Zeng had female relatives, it was not appropriate for so many young men to gather together. So Geng Jingzhong simply took them to wander along the Minjiang River, so as to get to know their character.
At first, these men both respected and feared Geng Jingzhong, but they were still young at heart. Since they dared to take the initiative to visit him and apply for the position, they were not shy or timid people. They quickly started chatting without any restraint.
The leader, who was dark-skinned, was named He Lang'er. His family also came from a fishing background. He scratched his head and asked, "Brother, you see, there are the Canal Gangs on the Min River, the One-Character Sect in the city, and the True Lord Society at the foot of the mountain. We should also have a name, right? Otherwise, if others ask, we won't know what to say."
That makes sense.
As Geng Jingzhong walked, he pondered, his gaze sweeping over a small temple by the river. The temple was small, its red paint long since peeled off, the door ajar, and inside stood a statue of Wang Lingguan. The statue had a red face and a bushy beard, held a golden whip, and its eyes were wide open in anger, exuding a majestic aura.
"As the saying goes, if you're going up a mountain, first pay homage to Wang Lingguan."
Geng Jingzhong stopped and pointed at the statue, saying, "Tanwei Street is often exploited, and this Wang Lingguan is in charge of human investigation, specializing in fighting injustices in the world. Why not call it the 'Lingguan Association'?"
He was secretly pleased with himself, for he was the Prince of Jingnan, and the word "Prince" was omitted from the name of the "Lingguan Gathering," which was a perfect fit.
"Lingguan Society! What a great name!"
He Lang'er slapped his thigh excitedly, "From now on, we're members of the Spirit Official Society! Anyone who dares to bully us, we'll have Wang Lingguan whip them with his golden whip!"
Everyone cheered and discussed how to expand the Spirit Official Association.
As they walked, one of them suddenly frowned and said, "Brother, I heard something earlier that I'm afraid we really need to uphold justice."
Geng Jingzhong looked at him: "What is it?"
"It's the temple by the flowing water downstream."
The tall, thin boy pointed to a spot not far away and said, "There's a shaman in the temple who recently claimed to be the Water Frog General descended to earth. He said that heaven is going to send down a plague to punish the people of Fuzhou, and only by offering him gold, silver and incense can they escape this calamity."
Geng Jingzhong snorted coldly: "It's those pretentious nonsense again."
“There are even more outrageous things,”
The boy continued, "He said that the incense offered by young boys and girls is the most effective, and several families have been forced by him to send their children to the temple to become servants of the 'Water Frog General'."
Geng Jingzhong was already in a bad mood because he had been hit twice this morning, and he had been holding back his anger for days. He looked at the five boys beside him and said in a deep voice, "Let's go to the Water Flow Temple now, tear down his altar, and teach this so-called Water Frog General a good lesson!"
"it is good!"
The crowd responded in unison, rubbing their hands together in anticipation, and followed Geng Jingzhong toward the Shuiliu Temple downstream.
The Shuiliu Temple is built on the side of a tributary of the Minjiang River, surrounded by a large reed bed. Due to the many hidden reefs, few boats pass through this area. At this time, it was already dark, and the afterglow of the setting sun disappeared on the horizon. White mist slowly rose from the river, enveloping the entire Shuiliu Temple. From a distance, the Shuiliu Temple looked like a broken boat floating in the mist, appearing eerie and strange.
As the group approached, they saw only a winding path leading to the temple gate. The temple walls were made of yellow mud, oyster shells, and gravel, and were full of cracks and broken pieces, covered with moss and wild grass. The roof tiles were also incomplete, revealing the dark rafters.
A strange smell permeated the air, a mixture of incense, mold, and a faint fishy odor, making one want to vomit.
Geng Jingzhong took the lead and pushed open the half-closed temple door. The temple was even darker inside than outside, with only an oil lamp in front of the shrine still lit. The dim yellow light flickered, making the colorful paintings on the walls on both sides seem to sway faintly.
The painting doesn't depict a story of loyalty, filial piety, or chastity; rather, it seems to tell of an extremely tragic shipwreck. Amidst the vast waves and thunderous roar, a ship breaks apart, and a person with taut skin and vibrant colors drifts out.
However, even with the artist's poor technique, Geng Jingzhong could still recognize that it was clearly a corpse, because the protruding eyes and swollen skin in the painting were depicted so vividly.
The murals have been severely damaged, but some traces remain. It is said that in the third year of the Hongwu reign, the villagers pooled their money to convert the thatched hut into a temple. They wrapped the incorruptible body, which had been the subject of many supernatural events, with layers of raw lacquer and hemp cloth, and then sculpted it into a Buddha statue with gold clay, naming it "Water Flowing Buddha".
By the dim candlelight, Geng Jingzhong looked up and saw that there was indeed an extremely strange statue enshrined on the shrine.
The statue was about the height of a person, made entirely of gold, neither standing nor sitting, with a slightly hunched figure, and the gold paint on the outside had long since peeled off, revealing the dark brown stuff inside.
A faint stench of decay wafted out, and the outline of the corpse was vaguely visible beneath the lacquered linen. Over the years, the skin had become completely dry and taut, clinging to the bones, yet the facial features were still faintly discernible. The protruding eyes in the mural had also decayed completely, now replaced by two black glass beads, which, under the flickering lamplight, seemed to be staring intently at the people entering the temple.
"What...what is this?" A boy's voice trembled slightly.
"This is a flowing water Buddha,"
Geng Jingzhong whispered, based on the content of the mural, "At the end of the Yuan Dynasty and the beginning of the Ming Dynasty, a ship ran aground and sank here. Everyone on board died, but this body floated to the shore and remained intact for a hundred years. The local villagers thought it was a divine intervention, so they gilded it and worshipped it, calling it the Water Buddha."
At this moment, the flame of the oil lamp suddenly flickered for no reason, and the light went out instantly. The shadow of the idol on the wall stretched out abruptly, like a huge monster, spreading its arms and lunging at the crowd.
Several boys at the back of the group screamed in fright and backed away. Although Geng Jingzhong also felt a chill run down his spine, he forced himself to remain calm and shouted, "Don't panic!"
He looked around; the temple was empty, without a single person in sight. The incense burner in front of the shrine held three sticks of incense, still emitting wisps of smoke that, which had been rising straight up, were now tilting and drifting.
"Someone must have opened the back door, and the draft made the candlelight flicker."
Geng Jingzhong then pointed to the ground: "Look at the footprints."
The ground was covered with a thick layer of dust, on which was a string of distinct footprints that stretched from the front of the shrine all the way to the back door of the temple. Perhaps because each footprint had originally been wet, it was able to leave a clear mark on the dust.
"Could he have escaped through the back door?" He Lang'er said.
Geng Jingzhong nodded: "Chase!"
Following the footprints, the group passed through the back door of the temple and arrived at the riverbank. Outside the back door was a muddy beach, and the river water lapped against the rocks on the shore, making a "whoosh" sound. The fog was even thicker at this time, and visibility was less than three zhang around. Beyond that, everything was a white blur, and nothing could be seen.
A series of footprints stretched out from the mudflats and suddenly disappeared into the murky river.
"Did he jump into the river and run away?" He Lang'er asked in confusion.
Just then, one of the boys suddenly pointed to the river and said in a trembling voice, "Big...Big brother, look over there!"
Everyone looked in the direction he pointed, and saw a figure slowly rising from the water on the river not far away.
The man stood naked, facing away from them, motionless in waist-deep river water. His skin was frighteningly white, like a corpse that had been soaking for decades, with an amber sheen. His hair was not braided, but long and messy, sticking to his back, dripping with river water.
From the side, the most bizarre thing was his stomach, which was swollen like a huge drum. Something stretched his belly skin so thin that it was almost transparent, and even his eyes were squeezed outwards.
"That...that's the shaman?" a boy asked in a low voice.
Geng Jingzhong remained silent, his eyes fixed on the figure. He could feel a chill rising from the soles of his feet and instantly spreading throughout his body.
Because the figure slowly turned around.
His face was also pale and bluish, his eyes were wide open, his lips were frozen purple, but a strange smile hung on the corner of his mouth.
Suddenly, the shaman opened his mouth.
His mouth was wide open, stretching all the way to his ears, revealing two rows of fine, sharp teeth. Then, a stream of black, sticky liquid gushed out of his mouth, accompanied by a nauseating, fishy stench.
Then, countless translucent soft-bodied creatures poured out of his mouth and nose.
As the shaman's belly gradually deflated, he remained standing there, eyes wide open and motionless, a strange smile on his lips, constantly vomiting those horrifying soft-bodied creatures.
Only when people got closer could they see that the creatures were about the length of a finger, shaped like shellless clams, with slippery bodies covered in a layer of transparent mucus. They seemed to be alive, wriggling on the shallow mudflats after landing, making strange noises, and some were even intertwined and twisted together.
As more and more soft-bodied creatures poured out of the shaman's mouth, they resembled a black tide, leaving behind trails of glistening slime in their wake. Their bodies were now stretching and contracting, flowing downstream along the mudflats, crawling towards the group...