Chapter 66 — Sacrificing to the Water God

Shen Mu was puzzled.

How could touching a sweat towel bring ill fortune, three years of bad luck? Yet the "sweat towel" was soft and smooth to the touch, carrying a natural fragrance of its own, and would indeed do nicely for wiping away sweat.

It must have been woven from the silk of some rare breed of silkworm, worth no small sum; in all the Wasteland one seldom saw cloth of such quality.

Shen Mu stuffed the towel into his bosom, turned the Chubao sword and its scabbard over in his hands, and was greatly pleased. The upper half of the scabbard was gold, studded with jade and pearls; at its mouth was carved a fish-dragon swallowing a blade, and where the fish-dragon's mouth opened, there the sword came forth.

The lower half of the scabbard was silver-gray, without ornament or carving of any kind, and at the tip was carved the tail of the fish-dragon, also gold.

Ding.

Shen Mu returned the sword to its sheath; his vital essence flooded into the scabbard, and the Chubao sword came forth again. As it left the sheath, a monstrous fish-dragon surfaced from the scabbard, leapt above his head, and spat the sword from its open mouth.

Shen Mu raised his hand, drew the blade from the fish's mouth, and felt a great ease in his heart.

"This scabbard is a truly fine thing, to be able to manifest a fish-dragon!

" He sheathed the sword again; the fish-dragon swallowed the Chubao blade and vanished into the scabbard.

Shen Mu was beside himself with delight. Again his vital essence poured into the scabbard, again the fish-dragon appeared and spat out the sword; he drew it, thrust it back into the fish's mouth, and the fish-dragon merged once more with the sheath.

Over and over he played, until the blind elder at his side could not help saying, "Shen'er, stop playing. Your granny has brought in a few more head of livestock and wants you to herd them.

These cattle are to be driven to Crimson Dragon City and sold in a day or two. " Shen Mu answered and hurried back to the village, then drove six bullocks out to pasture, wondering to himself, "Not long ago Granny sold off all the village livestock, so where did six more oxen come from?

Where do these cattle come from? " As he left the village he saw the village head, the alchemist, the silent smith and others gathered together discussing something. The lame old man sat to one side, dismantling a Netherworld Soul-Devouring Banner: the banner cloth he tossed to Grandpa Huo for a door curtain for his carpentry shop, and the banner's pole he threw to Granny Zhu to chase the chickens with.

The next day, Shen Mu harnessed the ox cart, and Granny Zhu said with a smile, "Shen'er, come along into the city this time.

" Surprised and overjoyed, Shen Mu hastily slung the Chubao sword on his back, gathered up the butchering knife, the bamboo staff, the iron hammer and the rest, and leapt onto the cart. Behind him the blind elder came strolling at an unhurried pace and sat down on the cart, one on either side with Granny Zhu.

The cart was loaded with ironware the silent smith had forged, with several bales of the hides of exotic beasts that Grandpa Huo, the lame old man and Shen Mu had taken in the hunt, and with two sheep, their hooves bound, set down among the goods. Three big yellow oxen were harnessed in front, strong beasts, and three more were tethered behind.

The youth flicked his whip; the big yellow ox blinked its innocent eyes and started off out of the village.

It was his first time going to the city, and his heart could not help but surge, so much so that his body seemed ready to lift off, and he never noticed the innocent looks in the eyes of the yellow oxen and the goats.

Crimson Dragon City lay far from Old Cripple Village, a thousand li away, and so a trip to the city was a great affair. The Wasteland was desolate, though, and the overland road was not easy going: one had first to travel by water, and then ten-odd li overland, before reaching Crimson Dragon City.

Shen Mu drove the cart to the bank of the Yong River, where the lame old man had built a great bamboo raft. Carefully he drove the ox cart onto the raft; the lame old man untied the mooring rope, and the raft drifted downstream, faster and faster.

Even at that speed it would take four or five days to reach Crimson Dragon City. After drifting forty-odd li, the blind elder tapped the water with his bamboo staff, and at once the raft made for the bank.

Wondering what it meant, Shen Mu looked up toward the shore and saw that this was the way to the Granny Temple; already a great crowd from the various villages had gathered there, most of them driving ox carts and horse carts, waiting by the river.

The Yong River was treacherous, its current swift, and its waters full of water monsters and fierce great fish; so villagers from the different villages would usually choose the same day to travel to Crimson Dragon City together, for with many people there was help and comfort for one another.

The bank was crowded with rafts, and more were still coming from afar, until before long a hundred or so rafts had gathered there. The blind elder took out several sticks of incense, lit them against the wind, and planted them by the riverside; other villagers came forward one after another and planted stick after stick of incense along the bank, until the shore was wreathed in fragrant smoke that drifted with the light breeze toward the middle of the river.

Suddenly someone cried out a ringing, resonant chant, and then more voices joined, singing aloud together on the bank. It was a river song, and it sang of the sacrifice to the river god: "With you I roam the nine rivers, where the gale rises and the waters lift their waves; I ride a water-chariot with a lotus canopy, driving two dragons and a pair of serpents; I climb Kunlun and gaze in four directions, my heart soaring, boundless and free; the day will darken and I pine, forgetting to return; only the far shores wake longing in me.

" The ancient tones turned in nose and throat, and as the villagers sang together, their voices rose and fell, solemn and stirring; the scene moved Shen Mu in a way he could not name.

Suddenly the water ahead parted, and one vast creature after another lifted its head from the depths. What rose from the water were huge beasts, blue-green of back, with four great webbed limbs like fish fins; their heads were much like a fish's, yet they had long snouts, like so many spears.

One beast after another lifted its head like a small hill and brought its snout to the incense on the bank, drawing in hard; the sticks of incense along the shore burned away swiftly, and the smoke passed into the great beasts' nostrils.

The beasts closed their eyes, and after a moment opened their mouths and blew out a great ring of smoke, seeming very well content.

The villagers seized the moment to drive their ox carts onto the beasts' long blue-green backs.

Seeing this, Shen Mu hurriedly drove onto the back of one of the creatures too; Granny Zhu took out a large piece of meat she had prepared long before and threw it into the water.

The beast ate the meat, gave a long bellow, and then its four webbed feet paddled, bearing the ox cart and the three people on it downstream.

Behind them, beast after blue-backed beast gave long calls, and the cries rose and fell across the river, keeping time with the villagers' singing as it rose and sank, paused and pressed on; the great beasts carried them upstream.

"This is a beast found nowhere but the Yong River, called the river-bearer," said Granny Zhu. "To the folk who live along the river, the river-bearer is the river god in their hearts.

They love the smoke of incense, they love to eat beef, but what they love best is to hear songs, songs that praise them.