Chapter 422 Shadow Three

Chapter 422: You Three

Out on the glazed terrace, no musicians began to play. Three pink-masked figures each led out a team of white-masked ones, and then launched into a monotonous dance.

Meng Wan had attended several palace banquets and a few gatherings of noble families. He had watched the famed dances of Tingxiang Pavilion in the capital and appreciated performances at the flower pavilions by Suzhou's lakeside, and figured he had a decent eye for such things.

Yet the dance performed by the three teams before him was entirely unlike anything in his understanding—no elegant orchestral accompaniment, no flowing sleeves or graceful poses.

The dancers wore identical plain white robes, their white masks concealing all expressions. Up close, you could see that on the left side of each mask, characters had been painted in vermilion—some single digits like one, five, seven, others double digits in the tens, or triple digits in the hundreds.

No matter their age, size, or looks, they were tagged like cattle at market.

Their hollow eyes glimmered eerily in the candlelight. They were lost in it, their breath syncing with the beat of their steps. Each move was sharp and deliberate, heavy with unspoken sorrow—every gesture seemed to tell some sorrowful story through their bodies, with a devotion that bordered on the sacrificial.

The crowd seemed completely overtaken by a strange, inexplicable grief, as if they too had become part of the story, unconsciously holding their breath.

When the dance ended, Meng Wan was shaken to the core. Just as he painted from the heart, he realized a dancer's purpose didn't have to be about pleasing anyone.

These white-masked souls struggled to survive in You City. Compared to the blue-masked ones who still clung to hope of escape, they were despair incarnate, grinding every ounce of resentment, pain, and hopelessness into each motion.

White-masked people were probably the lowest rung in You City's hierarchy. When the dance ended, they stood off to the side while pink-masked figures casually picked out a dozen or so. "You lot, pack your things. You're coming with me to You Three."

The chosen white-masked ones shuffled away numbly, with no right to refuse.

Sixth Granduncle gazed at the dancers descending from the terrace and suddenly remarked, "A few years ago, there was a young lad in the dance pavilion who danced exceptionally well. Later, he was taken away by the Criminal Prince in You Three."

Being taken by that bastard Prince Lian could hardly lead to anything good, but from Sixth Granduncle's tone, You Three didn't sound like a better fate for white-masked people either.

"Does Meng Fulang want to keep exploring You Two? Besides the dance pavilion, the nine towers here each one is different—there's the Wind Shadow Tower for qinggong training and the Hundred Herbs Tower, which specializes in medicine." Sixth Granduncle gestured for Meng Wan to follow.

Meng Wan thought of the highly skilled Lady Yu. "That stepmother of mine—did she also come out of the Luo family's You City?"

Neither he nor the Luo family needed to spell out the Meng family's business. Sixth Granduncle answered readily and without a hint of awkwardness, "Lady Yu isn't like the people stuck in You City. A natural-born martial artist like her—how could they waste someone like that here?"

There's an old saying: a scholar will die for the one who truly understands him. Someone as powerful as Lady Yu—even if they'd trained her—had to be won over with kindness and bound by gratitude, not threats or force. Great clans had plenty of talent and knew how to make use of it.

For instance, when they were out, Chi Yu would draw Meng Wan's bathwater himself, but back at the Song estate, Chi Yu had his own courtyard and servants.

Leaving the dance pavilion, perhaps since it was around mealtime, the streets outside seemed livelier than when they'd arrived. Meng Wan looked around carefully. Aside from three towers whose purpose he couldn't guess, the other six were tied to music, dance, martial arts, qinggong, hidden weapons, and poison. He didn't believe a word about medicine-making; poison was more like it. That mermaid pearl from Ji Island back in the day might well have come from You City's Hundred Herbs Tower.

"Twenty-three, get in there! Fight Seventeen!"

"Seventy-eight! Number nine, on your right—dodge!"

"Number seventeen, I bet three hundred red crystals on you to snatch the flag. If you don't get it, I'll buy you tonight and throw you into the tiger pit!"

"Sixty-six again! Sixty-six, you shameless bastard, where the hell are you putting your hands? Go for eighteen! Stay away from Old Three! I bet eighty red crystals on him!"

Of all the towers, the martial arts one drew the biggest crowd. Unrestrained cheers thundered through the space. The building also had dining and viewing floors—as soon as they entered, the blue-masked people inside quickly moved aside to make room.

The stone pillar here was thicker than the others—it took five people holding hands to wrap around it. On the stage, a bunch of youths were fighting over a flag perched atop the pillar. Judging by the voices, there were both boys and girls, all wearing numbered white masks. Among them, the one numbered seventeen was the most ferocious.

Though they clearly knew martial arts, in the scramble they resorted to the most primitive, direct methods—fists and feet, no technique whatsoever, more like beasts fighting in a cage. Many were already bloodied, wounds seeping red, yet they seemed to feel no pain, eyes fixed ferociously on the fluttering flag.

The cheers, curses, and betting shouts from below mingled into a searing, blood-boiling cacophony.

Seventeen wasn't the most skilled or the tallest—he was the most ruthless.

Clinging to the pillar, he targeted the eyes of anyone who came near. Not a simple punch, but a vicious strike with fingers extended, jabbing straight into eyeballs. Those who failed to dodge were blinded on the spot, red blood staining their masks as they screamed and fell. Even those who evaded would be dragged down by the other children below, tumbling and unable to rise for a while.

Those remaining on the pillar were either the most skilled or the most vicious like Seventeen.

Beyond that, Meng Wan noticed another amusing child. The pillar was hard to climb, and the first ones up were invariably agile and skilled. The rest scrambled to close the gap, but only one child, numbered sixty-six, wandered unhurriedly at the pillar's base while others fought fiercely, occasionally looking up to deliver a shameless strike at someone's groin.

After a while, when everyone's stamina was half spent and Seventeen's side had suffered the heaviest casualties, he finally climbed up along Seventeen's side, stopping at a spot Seventeen couldn't reach. When Seventeen prepared to hang upside down and strike at him, he struck first—swiftly yanking down Seventeen's pants.

Boos erupted both inside and outside the tower. Chi Yu quickly covered Meng Wan's eyes. They were half-grown lads—quite a sight, and his husband shouldn't be seeing that; it'd give him styes.

Sixty-six was plenty underhanded, but he truly lacked Seventeen's viciousness. The moment his pants were pulled down, Seventeen still recklessly fought to grapple with him. Sixty-six couldn't possibly win, so he hastily retreated to the other side, casually yanking down number twenty-three's pants above him as well. Learning from Seventeen's example, he ran after pulling them, spotted number three's good position, used a one-finger strike to jab number three's lower body, knocked him off, and smoothly claimed the spot.

Curses rained from the crowd, all furious at his outrageous antics. Even Meng Wan, his sight restored, let out a soft chuckle.

"If my husband is interested in them, you may take them. Seventeen has decent skills—he's young and still worth some training."

White-masked people in You City could be rented or bought. Renting varied in price—the more valuable, the costlier. Buying was a flat rate: ten thousand red crystals. Blue-masked people couldn't even leave themselves, let alone take someone along. Most rented, indulging in fleeting pleasure.

Meng Wan thought of how desperately blue-masked people wanted to escape You City. This place—the upper class came for enjoyment, the lower class to gamble with their lives. The blue-masked people's urgency to leave likely stemmed from sensing the danger and strangeness here. Given enough time, when their last red crystal was spent, they too would eventually become white-masked people.

—

Between You Two and You Three lay a single door, its entrance inside the Hundred Herbs Tower. By now, Meng Wan had two youths at his side—white masks, gray hemp clothes, obediently trailing behind him with none of their earlier cunning or ferocity.

The Hundred Herbs Tower had the fewest people; almost no one came here. In You City, ordinary folk who fell ill could only wait to die, or visit the tower on their deathbed to try their luck. The scent of sandalwood was heavy here, and it was the only tower that didn't serve food. Eight towers held the corpses of animals and humans. These bodies were divided by age—young, juvenile, middle-aged, elderly—and human corpses were likewise distributed, occupying all eight towers. Whether deliberately or not, Sixth Granduncle had led Meng Wan into the tower holding middle-aged human corpses.

The bodies were casually arranged on racks around the terrace, in various poses. Some were shriveled and curled like dried bark, skin stretched taut over bone, every knuckle distinct.

Others were bloated and deformed, skin taking on an eerie blue-purple hue, as if freshly dredged from water.

Still others had missing limbs, the torn muscle tissue at the severed ends indistinct—whether they'd been dismembered before or after death was unclear.

Beyond the thick sandalwood, a faint, sickening odor of decay hung in the air, turning the stomach.

Meng Wan felt a rising queasiness, his disgust for You City reaching its peak. Only when Sixth Granduncle opened the passage to You Three did he recover.

The corridor to You Three was gentler but longer. They walked nearly two quarters of an hour before reaching the next door.

As the door swung open, Meng Wan's eyes stung slightly. The setting sun was about to fade, the clouds on the horizon dyed a magnificent blood-red, painting the sky like a blazing sea of fire—dazzling and piercing.

Meng Wan closed his eyes to rest a moment before opening them again. He never expected You Three to be not an underground cavern, but built beneath a cliff face, with waterways on three sides leading to unknown destinations.

"Such breathtaking craftsmanship—truly astonishing." Meng Wan looked up at the small palace atop the cliff, constructed of gleaming white jade, like a celestial abode. Aside from the imperial palace, he'd never seen more extravagant architecture than You Three.

Sixth Granduncle humbly replied, "Merely minor craftsmanship, hardly comparable to Meng Fulang's lucrative courier station."

The sharpest merchants could all see the potential and prospects of the Stone Courier Station. Though modest, Sixth Granduncle's words carried a hint of probing—the Luo family wanted a piece of that pie too.

Sixty-six, who had been standing quietly alongside Seventeen, stole a glance at Meng Wan upon hearing this. A husband, was he?

A smile curved beneath Meng Wan's mask, his gaze still fixed on that white jade palace suspended on the cliff, surrounded by rushing rivers leading who knows where. "Uncle Luo, let's go up. All this touring you've given me—wasn't it to show me the Luo family's true capital?"

Sixth Granduncle gave him a long look. "Wei San, go press the mechanism."

The male guard didn't move. Meng Wan immediately caught on. "Let Seventeen go."

Uncle Luo didn't think much of it, assuming Meng Wan was training the newcomer. He agreed, "Very well. It's beneath the vines on the cliff face."

The mechanism was presumably simple. Seventeen walked over, and moments later, a thunderous rumble came from the cliff before them, revealing a narrow stairway ascending—just wide enough for one person.

A path to heaven—one must first ascend to heaven. That seemed fitting enough, didn't it?

Meng Wan's legs felt a bit weak. He had already been walking for half a day—this felt less like an expedition to the Luo family's territory and more like a sightseeing trip.

"My husband, let me carry you!" Chi Yu swung his arms, volunteering eagerly.

Seventeen hesitated for a moment. "I... can too." He seemed unaccustomed to talking with others, his words coming out haltingly.

Meng Wan wasn't about to take advantage of the young ones. He said to Chi Yu, "Let me walk on my own for now. When I can't go any further, you can carry me."

The steps looked steep from below, but climbing them was worse. Before long, Meng Wan was wiped out and obediently let Chi Yu carry him. Among their group, only Meng Wan and Sixth Granduncle had no martial arts training, yet surprisingly, the fifty-something old man held his own, only pausing to catch his breath a few times along the way.

"Welcome, honored guests."

At the palace entrance, two white-masked figures with graceful figures greeted them with smiles, their voices clear and sweet, like mountain springs over jade, instantly dispelling fatigue and refreshing the spirit.

Once they reached You San, Sixth Granduncle dropped the pretense. In truth, he had rarely ventured outside in his old age, mostly running things in the city. He removed his mask directly and instructed, "Take us to the Quiet Pavilion first, and prepare fruits and tea."

The attendant recognized Sixth Granduncle and bowed respectfully. "Yes, master."

Though the white-masked figures in plain white robes wore the same white masks as the slaves, their masks were made of brocade silk, with their identification numbers embroidered in gold thread.

The attendant led them with light, silent footsteps, guiding them through a white jade archway carved with cloud patterns, and the whole white jade palace came into view.

The glazed tiles on the palace roof shimmered with iridescent light, refracting the sunset's glow into the interior. The floor was paved with large, polished white jade slabs so reflective that footsteps echoed with strange clarity, carrying a weird resonance, like it came from far away.

The white jade palace was grand and luxurious, a bigger version of You Er. The entire structure was square and interconnected on all four sides, with a spacious, flat jade terrace in the open central courtyard.

The first floor had high ceilings and the most black-masked people—though even "most" here was just a dozen or so.

The second and third floors were hidden Quiet Pavilions, their occupants invisible from below. Some pavilions had black-masked guards stationed outside, indicating they were not to be entered freely.

From midnight until now—nearly a full day and night—Sixth Granduncle was utterly exhausted. He forced himself to explain to Meng Wan, "My husband, feel free to pick any room to rest in. No one will disturb you. At around 9:45 PM, the city will host a grand auction, and I'm certain there will be something of interest to you."

Meng Wan's eyes swept over Wei San's lean waist before he said, "I'm new here and unfamiliar with the area. Why not have Uncle Luo leave one of your guards with me?"

"Heh." Sixth Granduncle chuckled lightly. "Didn't know you had it in you... ah, forget it. Wei San, you will stay and follow Lord Meng's orders."

Meng Wan watched Sixth Granduncle leave, then turned to instruct Seventeen and Sixty-six, "You two wait outside. Knock if anything happens."

Chi Yu and Wei San accompanied Meng Wan into the room. The windows were sealed shut, and before them stood a white jade table with an embroidered cushion set into its center, flanked by two long soft couches.

Meng Wan tossed his mask onto the table, his hair at his temples damp with sweat. Totally letting himself go, he half-reclined on the couch, massaging his legs. If he had a step counter, it'd be at thirty thousand, right?

Once he'd recovered, he looked at "Wei San," who had settled leisurely across from him, and started to say something, then stopped.

"Go ahead, speak freely. No one's within ten meters, and those two kids outside are weak—they can't hear us." Ge Quan had also removed his mask, his handsome face calm and composed.

—

"My lord, the trail left by Lord Ge ends near this mountain stream. Aside from that, there seem to be traces of him in a small town ten li away."

Tao Shi remarked with surprise, "How strange—an entrance separated by a full ten li?"

Song Tingzhou had long known You City wouldn't be easy to find, so he wasn't overly surprised. His expression remained composed. "Dig first. If we can't dig it out, we blast it. Blast both sites at once."

No matter how many mechanisms guarded the entrances, as long as they revealed a weakness, they would eventually be found.