San Laizi got up, crossed over from between the Land God and Land Goddess, jumped down from the altar, and rushed madly towards the door. He dashed into the heavy rain, letting the pouring rain extinguish the fire within him. Suddenly, a lightning bolt fshed, and by the light of the lightning, he saw a faceless figure in white standing in front of him!

  On this stormy night, Zhong Qi did not go home. He was asleep in the Xiaoyao Pavilion, holding the weeping courtesan Yang Fei'e.

  Rainwater flowed through the streets of the town, and some low-lying areas were flooded. A person walked out of an alley, stepping through the flowing water on the cobblestone-paved street, and arrived at the coffin shop's entrance.

  You Wuqiang y in the coffin, not asleep but deep in thought. Ever since he returned to Tang Town, he had been going around telling people about his experiences in the war during the day. When it was time to eat, he would just find a pce to have a meal, as it was usually simple fare, and since it wasn't a time of famine, people didn't mind sharing a bowl of rice. At night, he would stay at the coffin shop. The shop owner, Zhang Shaobing, offered to get him a bed, but You Wuqiang refused, saying he preferred to sleep in the coffin, which he considered the best bed in the world. Zhang Shaobing knew his temperament and let him be.

  You Wuqiang was lost in thought when suddenly, there was a knock at the door. He alertly crawled out of the coffin.

  ----

  Tang Town had become gloomy and damp in the rain. This was Tang Town's rainy season; every year at this time, the rainfall was particurly heavy, raising concerns that excessive rain could trigger fsh floods.

  Tang Town was built in a small basin surrounded by mountains. If a fsh flood occurred, the town would inevitably be impacted by the flood. After two days of intermittent rain, the water in Tang Creek outside the town surged, and the muddy floodwaters washed away the small wooden bridge leading to Wugong Ridge.

  Every year at this time, a small wooden boat is used to ferry people across here, and once the rainy season ends, locals rebuild the small wooden bridge.

  Most people in Tang Town are on edge, occasionally running to the riverbank by Tang Creek to see how high the floodwaters have risen. Song Ke doesn't have this concept; he has no idea how fierce the mountain floods can be.

  Today, as noon approaches, he still hasn't opened the door to his painting studio, and no one has come to see him. The rain isn't heavy today, and the rhythmic sound of raindrops falling from the eaves is driving Song Ke's nerves. He set up an easel in the attic of the painting studio, preparing to paint some oil paintings.

  But when he picked up the oil painting brush, his heart inexplicably trembled. Song Ke thought of San Laizi. Ever since he saw him on the market day, Song Ke hadn't seen San Laizi for the past two days and suddenly felt worried about this loner from Tang Town.

  Thinking of San Laizi, Song Ke lost interest in painting. Could something have happened to San Laizi?

  Holding an oil-paper umbrel, Song Ke walked through the town street, a faint fishy smell wafting through the air. The street was sparsely poputed, and the faint fishy smell didn't attract anyone's attention.

  Many people in the town have gone to the riverbank to see the flood. Song Ke walked towards the nd god temple at the eastern end of the town. His slender figure looked slightly desote. When Song Ke arrived at the temple's entrance, the doors were open; no one ever closed them. Only San Laizi would occasionally close the heavy cedar doors at night when they went to sleep.

  Song Ke stood at the entrance of Land God Temple and called out, "San Laizi—"

  No one answered him from inside the temple.

  Song Ke walked in.

  Song Ke did not find San Laizi in the nd temple; he only saw the tools San Laizi used to dig graves in a corner. These grave-digging tools were quietly pced there, and Song Ke's reaction was that San Laizi must not be on the hillside of Wugong Ridge. So, where could San Laizi have gone? Since coming to Tang Town, he had seen San Laizi almost every day, and deep down, he had already regarded this poor man, who was ignored by the people of Tang Town, as a friend.

  A wave of anxiety surged in Song Ke's heart. But no matter how anxious he was, it was of no use. In the unfamiliar Tang Town, although the town wasn't big—just a small street and a dozen alleys—finding someone was incredibly difficult.

  Song Ke sighed helplessly and was about to leave the Land God temple when a soaking wet person barged in. This person, who had brought no rain gear, was You Wuqiang, holding a rusty bayonet in his hand. You Wuqiang's face looked fierce as he gruffly asked Song Ke, "Painter Song, have you seen San Laizi?"

  Song Ke shook his head, "I'm looking for him too."

  You Wuqiang shot him a sideways gnce. "What do you want with San Laizi? Are you going to have him dig a grave for you too?"

  Song Ke shook his head.

  You Wuqiang said, "If you're not looking for him to dig a grave, what else could it be? San Laizi was born to dig graves for people; whose grave is better than his? There hasn't been anyone like him born in Tang Town yet. By the way, if you find San Laizi, tell him You Wuqiang is looking for him to dig a grave. Either Zhong Qi dies today, or I do! Alright, enough chit-chat, I'm going to settle things with Zhong Qi!"

  Song Ke stared in horror as You Wuqiang charged into the fine rain curtain, brandishing the rusty bayonet.

  Suddenly, Song Ke shouted loudly at You Wuqiang's back, "San Laizi has already dug the grave at Wugong Ridge!"

  Ignoring the rain, You Wuqiang arrived at Zheng Mashui's pork stall, stabbed the bayonet into the meat board, wiped the rainwater running down his face, and said to Zheng Mashui, "Mashui, cut me a piece of meat."

  Because of the rain, the pork stall's business was slow, and the pork from the pig that Zheng Mashui sughtered yesterday morning was still being sold today. When he saw You Wuqiang come to buy meat, a greasy smile appeared on his chubby face: "Wuqiang, how much do you want me to cut for you?"

  You Wuqiang retorted aggressively, "How much do you think I can eat?"

  Zheng Mashui chuckled, "How would I know how much you can eat?"

  You Wuqiang impatiently said, "Less chit-chat, just cut me two jin of meat!"

  Zheng Mashui forced a smile on his face: "Alright, alright, I'll give you two pounds of prime meat. Wu Qiang, let me be clear, this pig was sughtered yesterday, so the pork is a bit stale, but I guarantee it's not spoiled. The price can be half off. Anyway, it's just this meat, so speed up and sell it all."

  Zheng Mashui was thinking to himself, "Damn it, it's just a soldier thug. So what if he tries to act tough with me? The pig-killing knife in my hand isn't just for show. Don't push me too far!"

  You Wuqiang watched Zheng Mashui finish cutting the meat and, without weighing it, was about to use wet straw to tie up the pork. You Wuqiang snatched it away and said, "No need to tie it! I'm going to eat the pork right now!"

  Zheng Mashui widened his eyes in surprise. "What did you say?"