Chapter 31

Chapter 31: The Five-Colored River

By now, Gu Shi Yi’s injuries had improved a great deal. She leaned on the railing and walked slowly along the deck, offering smiles and nods to passing escort bureau brokers, while speaking in a low voice with Li Yan Er.

“You think every cultivation sect is some lofty immortal who doesn’t touch mortal life?” Gu Shi Yi murmured. “They’re still thousands of years away from living on wind and dew like an immortal. They still need to eat, drink, and… handle their bodily needs. And most of them spend all day meditating with their fingers clean as spring onions. One cultivator needs ten servants to live comfortably. That’s a small sect. Big sects? Just cleaning one cultivator’s cave can take dozens of servants.”

She shifted her grip on the railing, moving one careful step at a time. “If you need people to manage the chores, you pay them silver. And that’s not even counting the gardens—rare flowers and herbs, raising spirit beast… all of it burns money.”

Of course, that was for righteous cultivation. If it were the evil path and they didn’t mind the trouble, they could simply kidnap mortals and drag them up the mountain as servants—as long as they didn’t let the Clear Spirit Guard come knocking.

Li Yan Er stuck out her tongue. “For cleaning and chores… can’t they just form a spell?”

Gu Shi Yi laughed. “They can. But that costs spiritual power. The lower a cultivator’s realm, the more power they waste on little tricks like that. They spend every day trying to raise their realm. Why would they burn power on sweeping a floor?”

Li Yan Er pouted. “No wonder they make rules to protect mortals.”

Because if too many mortals died, who would cook and clean for them?

Gu Shi Yi smiled, eyes narrowing with amused scorn. “That’s why the old man always said—even if he had spiritual roots, he still wouldn’t cultivate.”

She glanced left and right, lowering her voice even more. “He said cultivators are like leeches. They latch onto mortals and drink them dry. After they’ve sucked enough, they pat their butts and head off for ascension, and they never care if mortals live or die. Selfish to the bone.”

Li Yan Er nodded fiercely. “Master was absolutely right.”

They continued slowly along the deck. The river spread so wide it made you question whether it was truly a river at all. Their ship was massive—about fifteen zhang long, ten zhang wide—easily the largest Li Yan Er had ever seen, movies aside. Yet on the Five-Colored River it still looked like a leaf floating on an endless painted sheet. Along the banks, countless boats were moored—big and small leaves scattered across the water, all of them somehow looking tiny.

Gu Shi Yi let out a soft breath. “With a river this wide… which immortal do you think split it open back then?”

No wonder everyone wanted to cultivate. If you could become an immortal, you could move mountains and fill seas, turn clouds and rain like it was nothing.

Li Yan Er craned her neck and squinted toward the horizon. “This river is ridiculous. If nobody told me it was a river, I’d think it was the sea.”

Gu Shi Yi snorted. “You really haven’t seen the world. Later I’ll take you to see the Illusory Sea. Then you’ll learn what Da Hai really means.”

If this ship was a leaf on the Five-Colored River, then on the Illusory Sea it would be a grain of sand—so small you could barely count it.

Li Yan Er truly hadn’t seen much. In her old world, she grew up in a small town and studied and worked inland. She’d planned to save enough money to go see the sea one day.

Instead, she died before she ever got to see the world.

Her temperament was gentle. Even being teased, she only smiled. “All right. We have to go see it someday.”

“Of course.” Gu Shi Yi patted her chest with swagger. “Girl, stick with your big sis. I’ll make sure you eat well and live well. One day we’ll take a whole bunch of hot guys and travel the world—”

She patted too hard.

Cough, cough, cough.

Li Yan Er rolled her eyes. “Girl, worry about yourself first. Your injury isn’t fully healed.”

Gu Shi Yi waved a hand, still wheezing. “Relax. I know what I’m doing. I’ve tempered my body since I was little. It’s only been a few days—I feel almost fine.”

It wasn’t empty boasting. Before they boarded, Master Huang Liu had summoned a physician to check her again. The physician examined her, then stared as if he’d seen a ghost.

“This young lady has an excellent constitution,” he said. “Her wounds are nearly healed, and even the broken bone seems… already fifty or sixty percent mended…”

It hadn’t even been a month. A broken rib, healing like that?

Everyone had been stunned. Gu Shi Yi had looked proud enough to glow. “That’s because I’ve practiced Daoist techniques since I was little. Even injured, I never stopped Qi Refining breathing for a single day.”

The escort bureau men gasped and praised the wonders of Daoist methods. Only Li Yan Er felt a flicker of suspicion.

She’d always heard injuries to bone took a hundred days. Shi Yi had been poisoned and fallen from a mountaintop. Cuts on her face and body still hadn’t fully faded, yet the bone was already knitting together? It was strange.

But the thought passed in a blink. Maybe Daoist techniques in this world really were that mysterious.

Gu Shi Yi was still whispering when someone slapped her shoulder from behind.

“Gu Shi Yi!”

She jumped and spun around, nearly biting her own tongue. A scruffy bearded face filled her vision—along with a bright red, bulbous nose.

It was Liu Two.

Gu Shi Yi cursed on instinct. “Liu Two! Are you a ghost? You walk without a sound. Trying to scare someone to death?”

Liu Two burst out laughing. His beard was a tangled mess; when he grinned, that red nose was the only thing you could really see. “We’re about to set sail. You’re still out here, so I came to drag you back to the cabin.”

Gu Shi Yi nodded and followed him at a careful pace. “Is everyone from our side aboard?”

“Everyone’s aboard,” Liu Two said. “Once the ship is three zhang off the dock, the Formation will activate. The hull will shake. You’re injured—if you’re standing out here, you could get jolted right into the water. And the water in the Five-Colored River can’t be swallowed. A mortal takes one mouthful and dies on the spot. Be careful.”

Gu Shi Yi nodded. “I heard…”

The Five-Colored River’s water was truly strange. Across the entire vast flow, it split into distinct bands—red, orange, yellow, green—each color cleanly separated, never mixing. Even when fish swam through or someone deliberately stirred it, it would settle back into perfect divisions in moments, as if the river itself had rules.

Some curious people had hauled up buckets to examine it. The instant the water left the surface, it turned into a murky, colorless clump. Others dared to drink a sip. It was like swallowing poison: the lucky ones vomited blood; the unlucky ones died.

Terrifying, and oddly beautiful.

Liu Two escorted Gu Shi Yi back to her cabin. Though he looked rough, he was strict about manners. He stopped at the doorway and waited while she went in. He was about to say something when a commotion erupted from the dock outside.

He tossed her a quick warning. “Stay in the cabin and behave. I’ll go see what’s going on.”

Then he hurried off.

Gu Shi Yi was curious, but she didn’t dare chase after him. If the ship departed and the Formation activated while she was outside, she might not make it back in time.

She sat down, poured herself water, and had just taken a sip when Granny Gu came in with a tray. “You child,” Granny Gu scolded with a smile. “You just can’t sit still. You’re barely better and you’re already wandering. If I hadn’t sent Liu Two to fetch you, you’d still be outside.”

Gu Shi Yi grinned and reached for the tray. “Aunt, what did you bring me? Something good?”

“Sit properly.” Granny Gu swatted her hand away, set the tray down, opened a porcelain jar, and lifted the lid. “Snake-fish from the Five-Colored River. Simmered into soup it’s the best thing for nourishing you. Drink it while it’s hot.”

Gu Shi Yi blinked. “Wait—didn’t you say the river’s water can’t be consumed? The fish can be eaten?”

“The water can’t be drunk,” Granny Gu said, amused, “but the fish can be eaten. And it’s famous. The Five-Colored River has thumb-sized silverfish, and it has snake-fish like this—half a zhang long. They say a cultivation official once caught a giant kui fish. The meat is rough and reeks, but the roe, the milt, and the fish maw are the finest delicacies under heaven.”

She smacked her lips like she could taste it. “Sadly, only cultivation officials have the ability to eat a beast like that. We mortals can only hear about it.”

Gu Shi Yi had traveled widely and tasted many rare things, but fish from the Five-Colored River was new. She peered into the jar. Inside was a small strip of pale meat, long and thin, truly like snake flesh.

Granny Gu caught the look immediately. “They bait snake-fish with tender chicken. Earlier Sixth Master had them try. Half the day went by and they only caught one. They made soup for Sixth Master and a few escort captains. Sixth Master remembered you’re still injured, so he told me to bring you a bowl.”

She nodded toward the river outside. “If you want to see what the fish looks like, you’ll have to wait until they catch another one. When they do, I’ll call you to look.”

Gu Shi Yi’s expression softened. “Sixth Master still remembered me…”

“Drink first,” Granny Gu said briskly. “If you want to thank him, wait until you’re properly recovered.”

Gu Shi Yi nodded and lifted the jar to drink, but the noise outside kept growing louder. Granny Gu frowned. “You drink. I’ll go take a look.”

She left.

Gu Shi Yi drank. The soup was rich and unbelievably fresh, the flavor so clean it felt like it rinsed the dust off her tongue. The fish meat was delicate and tender, melting as soon as it hit her mouth. The strip was gone before she’d even properly tasted it.

She set the jar down, pleased. “Once we set sail, when there’s nothing to do, I’ll fish for snake-fish and eat my fill.”

Granny Gu returned a moment later, face dark.

Gu Shi Yi straightened. “Aunt? What happened?”

“Outsiders boarded the ship,” Granny Gu said flatly.

“Outsiders?” Gu Shi Yi’s brows knit. “Didn’t we pay a huge price to charter this whole ship? How are there outsiders?”

Granny Gu’s irritation flared. “Exactly. Sixth Master booked this ship long ago. We even paid thirty percent more than the Emerald Water Sect’s price. And now they pull this? No honor at all.”

The Emerald Water Sect was the sect that provided magical vessels for mortals traveling the Five-Colored River. In Du Mo Prefecture, their influence was among the strongest. They had monopolized business along the river for hundreds—maybe thousands—of years. Because it was a monopoly, their prices were always outrageous. Only merchants with deep pockets dared use their vessels.

A man like Master Huang Liu, chartering an entire ship in one go, was spending enough in a single trip to bankrupt a small shop on the spot.

That was why the escort bureau was furious. They had paid real money. And now outsiders were stepping aboard anyway.

Gu Shi Yi asked quietly, “And Sixth Master agreed?”

Granny Gu snorted. “Those people were personally brought aboard by the hall master of the local Emerald Water Sect branch. Even if Sixth Master hated it, he couldn’t refuse.”

Power pressing down. Nobody liked that.

Gu Shi Yi’s eyes narrowed. “How many outsiders? Who are they?”

“I didn’t dare get close,” Granny Gu admitted. “But I heard Liu Two and the others say a young lady is leading them. She’s veiled, so nobody knows what she looks like. Sixth Master called her Miss Ruan.”

Gu Shi Yi nodded slowly. If Sixth Master couldn’t refuse them, then their connections were iron-hard. And Gu Shi Yi herself was an outsider here—she had no right to complain.

She only said, “If there are outsiders aboard, I’ll stay inside more.”

Granny Gu looked satisfied. “If you’d been this obedient earlier, your injuries would’ve healed days ago.”

Gu Shi Yi grinned shamelessly. “Aunt, then pamper me a little more and bring me another bowl of soup.”

Granny Gu rolled her eyes. “Glutton.”

But she took the jar anyway. “Wait.”

Gu Shi Yi drank two bowls of fish soup, then climbed into bed. Li Yan Er peeked through the crack in the door and whispered, “Shi Yi, they brought a carriage onto the ship. It looks expensive. They must be from a powerful family.”

Gu Shi Yi nodded, hands folded behind her head as she stared out the window at the painted water. “Mm. Looks like we’re about to depart.”

Sure enough, not long after, the hull shuddered and the scenery outside began to slide. The ship slowly pulled away from the dock. After it moved three zhang out, a faint humming sounded, and the vibration grew stronger.

Gu Shi Yi lay still. Li Yan Er pressed close near the hollow of her neck. The two sisters watched the blurred river through the window, waiting for the shaking to settle.

Li Yan Er murmured, “It feels like a plane taking off…”

Gu Shi Yi blinked. “Flying on a plane feels like this?”

“Pretty close,” Li Yan Er said after thinking. She’d only been on a plane once—when she thought matron was gravely ill and rushed home for what she believed would be a last goodbye. She’d clenched her teeth, spent the money, and taken a night flight.

It was her first time.

And her last.

She’d looked down at the city where she worked, lights spread out like an endless sea.

She’d probably only see something like that in dreams now.

After about ten minutes, the trembling finally eased. A hazy white glow covered the window, making the river outside look distant and unreal. Gu Shi Yi and Li Yan Er both leaned toward the glass, watching as the ship cut through the water and sailed west.

Because the entire ship was wrapped in the Formation’s light, there was no need for lamps on deck. The ship’s course was handled by an Outer Sect disciple dispatched by the Emerald Water Sect, so everyone from the escort bureau could rest in the cabins without worry.

The convoy had been exhausted for days. Many people slept.

Only Gu Shi Yi stayed awake. She’d slept too much already, and with the Formation’s glow washing the world pale, her sense of day and night had been flipped upside down.