SWDnovel Chapter 88 Cloud Dragon Egg
Chapter 88 Cloud Dragon Egg
Xiongjiazhai, stilted houses.
The sun, radiating colorful light, hangs under the eaves, seemingly enjoying itself as it continuously spits out and swallows the wooden water vat below.
Lobby.
Mr. Wu tucked the wooden box into his sleeve and asked, "Old Chieftain, did that sorcerer say where to begin this painting?"
Xiong Boyuan put down his wine bowl and pointed to the distant cloud pillar outside the door.
"It was in that place where the clouds hung. Before he left, the alchemist said that it was the eye of the array that gathers the clouds. There was a deep pit inside, which was a mica vein. He left a place for drawing, and it would only work if it was drawn there."
We were full and satisfied.
Without further delay, the group, led by Xiong Boyuan, passed through a grove of gnarled ancient camphor trees directly in front of the village and headed towards the place where the clouds hung low.
The deeper they went, the thicker the surrounding fog became. The damp white mist solidified and clung to everyone's hair, refusing to dissipate.
At this point, the road surface underfoot became increasingly strange, turning from wet mud into fine gravel.
Song Quyou kicked the stones with his foot; they were all made of shimmering white mica, and they felt a bit rough underfoot.
Big Yellow, following closely behind, saw the pebble kicked away by Song Quyou, quickly ran up, sniffed it, saw that it was a stone, poured some water on it, and marked it.
After walking for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the view suddenly cleared up. It was as if an invisible hand had completely parted the tangled clouds, revealing a circular depression several feet in circumference.
The stone walls surrounding the depression are densely covered with mica ore, large and small, scattered like stars, resembling thousands of fireflies shimmering in the night.
In the very center of the depression, a bottomless sinkhole suddenly appears, its edges as smooth as a mirror, with white waves churning inside, like steam billowing out of a boiling pot.
Xiong Boyuan stopped at the edge of the sinkhole, bent down, picked up a piece of mica gravel, and threw it into the sinkhole. The pebble disappeared into the surging white waves, and for a long time there was no echo.
"The sorcerer said that the painting must be painted on the stone platform at the bottom of the pit."
Mr. Wu peered into the pit; the walls were steep and sheer, with glistening white mica veins winding and crisscrossing the rock face, gleaming with a cold, eerie light. He took a deep breath and began to have second thoughts.
"Old chieftain, this...this pit is bottomless. I'm afraid my two legs can't go down into it."
Upon hearing this, Xiong Boyuan narrowed his one eye slightly, revealing a hint of a smile:
"Sir, please do not be afraid. How could I allow my honored guest to put himself in danger?"
He turned to Xiong Hai and gestured with his chin: "Hai'er, go and bring the rope ladder over."
Xiong Hai responded and went off, searching through the camphor grove not far away. He soon returned carrying a large hemp rope ladder.
Each crossbeam of the rope ladder was as thick as an arm, and both ends were tightly wrapped with hemp rope soaked in tung oil. It was quite heavy, but Xiong Hai carried it on his shoulder and walked with great speed.
He tied one end of the rope ladder to the trunk of an ancient camphor tree, which was as thick as three people could hug, at the edge of the sinkhole, pulled hard to make sure it was stable, and then threw the other end into the sinkhole with a whoosh.
The rope ladder unfolded with a clatter and disappeared into the surging white waves, only to be followed by a muffled thud upon landing after a long while.
"Sir, I'll go down first." Without saying a word, Xiong Hai flipped over and grabbed the rope ladder. His muscular figure swayed and disappeared into the clouds.
A moment later, his booming voice came from the bottom of the pit: "We've reached the bottom! There's a stone platform! It's stable!"
Mr. Wu took a deep breath, took the wooden box out of his sleeve, and gripped it tightly in his hand:
"Well, since we're already here..."
He lifted the hem of his robe, tucked it into his waistband, and clumsily climbed the rope ladder, inching his way down step by step.
Song Quyou followed closely behind, the clouds beneath his feet blowing in his face, damp and chilling to the bone.
After descending to a depth of about ten zhang (approximately 33 meters), the view suddenly opened up before us.
At the bottom of the pit is a natural mica cave. The mica ore on the four walls is thick and interlocking like ivory, covered with dense water droplets that shimmer with a jade-like light, making the cave as bright as day.
In the center stood a stone platform, smooth as a mirror, its surface as white as frost and snow, clearly having been specially polished. Around the platform were engraved a ring of fine runes, with faint flowing light moving within the patterns, presumably the array runes left behind by the sorcerer when he set up the formation.
Song Quyou landed on the ground and looked around. The opening of the cave was sealed by clouds and mist, leaving only a hazy white light, while the mica ore on the cave wall was constantly emitting wisps of cloud.
"Sir, you can paint it on this table," Xiong Hai, who came down first, said to Mr. Wu.
Song Quyou did not go up to watch Mr. Wu paint, but instead wandered around.
Just then, a small red bird poked its head out from his arms, looked around, and looked up at Song Quyou, whispering, "The mica here seems to be nurturing something."
Song Quyou raised an eyebrow, looking at the red head peeking out from his arms, and said:
"Nurture?"
The lark stretched out its wings and pointed in a direction.
Song Quyou walked slowly in the direction the lark pointed, gradually disappearing into the cloud wall, and arrived at the depths of the stone cave, a place where mica was quite dense.
Seeing that no one was around, the lark suddenly darted out of Song Quyou's arms, crashed into a sharp mica crystal, and disappeared.
Song Quyou quickly followed, passing through the crystal and entering a stone chamber covered in mist. The chamber was filled with mica, which shimmered with fluorescent light. In the center, mica formed a bed, with white sand as a cushion, and the mist swirled around it, concealing a round stone egg.
The stone pebble was about the size of a fist, pure white, with faint cloud-like patterns flowing across its surface, flickering with each breath. If not examined closely, it would simply appear as a smooth mica stone.
The lark circled the stone chamber once, then stopped at the corner of the stone bed, looked around, observed the direction of the mica crystals, and finally fixed its gaze on the stone egg in front of it.
Upon entering the stone chamber, Song Quyou frowned, loosened the bamboo hat on his back, and looked around at the crystalline mica, but couldn't discern anything special.
With a leap, Yun Que transformed into a girl in colorful clothes. She picked up the stone egg, ran to Song Quyou, and said happily, "This is a Yun Chi egg. When it grows up, it will be agile and incredibly fast. When it runs, it will be like a celestial horse soaring through the sky. It will be a good mount. Now that we have discovered it, we can't let it go to someone else."
Before Song Quyou could speak, the excited Yun Que looked at him and continued, "Don't leave yet. After I put the Yun Chi egg into the Pot Heaven, I'll take that bamboo basket and put some mica in it to feed this little guy in the future."
Song Quyou nodded, squatted down, and looked at the fine sand on the stone bed, damp with mist. He turned it over with his sword but found no other traces. It seemed the egg had been there for quite some time.
The lark transformed into a rainbow of light and disappeared into the heavenly realm. When it reappeared, it was carrying a small bamboo basket. It looked around at the mica, picking and choosing, and finally fixed its gaze on the stone bed in front of Song Quyou.
She squatted by the stone bed, carefully picking out the most lustrous and cloud-like mica crystals and putting them into her bamboo basket. She picked them up meticulously, examining each one against the light, and discarding any that she wasn't satisfied with.
Suddenly, a flash of green light appeared, and the stone bed was neatly cut off along its base.
Startled, Yun Que fell backward, her face puffed out as she glared angrily at Song Quyou.
Song Quyou stepped forward and patted Yun Que's head, saying softly, "There's no time. If I leave for too long, people will become suspicious. Taking all of this stone bed should be enough for that Yun Chi to eat for a while."
……
After putting away the stone bed, Song Quyou left the stone chamber and passed through the thick, choking cloud wall. The three people in front of the stone platform reappeared before him.
Song Quyou walked forward slowly, glancing around, without attracting the attention of the three.
Just as Mr. Wu finished his last stroke, the runes on the stone platform caused the entire painting to suddenly light up. The sea of clouds in the painting surged like boiling water, and an invisible wave spread out from the stone platform in all directions.
Everyone in the cave simultaneously felt a clearing in their ears, and then heard Fang Li, who was guarding the ladder above, exclaim in surprise:
"The clouds...the clouds are sinking!"
Song Quyou looked up and saw the thick clouds that had covered the sky for twenty years rolling down like white ribbons hanging upside down, completely disappearing into the painting on the stone platform.
The crowd watched in amazement as the clouds cascaded down, streaks of sunlight disappearing into the painting along with the clouds.
As the last wisp of mist settled, a golden beam of sunset shone down from overhead, illuminating the stone painting.
As the setting sun illuminates the painting, the sea of clouds, which appears to come alive after the clouds and mist have dispersed, ripples with layers of golden scales, and hides large fish leaping, swimming, and diving.
Looking at the strange phenomenon on the stone platform, Mr. Wu put down his pen and let out a long breath: "It's done."
The group climbed the rope ladder back to the ground. The setting sun was pouring down from the western ridge, its golden-red light like molten iron, onto every tile, every tree, and every upturned face in Xiongjia Village.
Xiong Boyuan looked up at the sky, the afterglow of the setting sun turning his face crimson, and remained silent.
……
Xiong Hai quietly tugged at Song Quyou's sleeve and whispered, "My father hasn't seen the sunset in four or five years. It's inevitable that the old man is a bit sentimental."
Xiong Hai put his arm around Song Quyou and whispered behind his back, "Brother Song, drink less alcohol after dinner. You have to do me a favor."
Song Quyou raised an eyebrow, looking at the serious-looking Xiong Hai before him, and said, "Brother Xiong Hai, please speak freely."
Xiong Hai sighed softly, "When I went hunting in the deep mountains and dense forests, I accidentally discovered an ancient tomb with a pair of Xuanhua axes inside. I've been eyeing them for a long time, but every time I'm about to get them, a tomb-guarding beast always stops me."
"Hou?" Song Quyou looked Xiong Hai up and down.
Just as he was about to say something more, he heard Xiong Boyuan shout:
"Stop chatting. Today the clouds have finally cleared up in the village. Let's have a good celebration and get together with the villagers."
Xiong Hai turned to Xiong Boyuan and said, "I understand, Father. You go back to the village first. Master Song and I will catch up soon."
……
Xiong Hai pushed away Fang Li, who was trying to eavesdrop, and pulled Song Quyou along behind him to walk and talk slowly.
"Brother Xiong Hai, that beast was covered in putrefactive poison and impervious to blades and spears. How did you manage to escape unscathed from such a ferocious beast?"
Xiong Hai grinned and lowered his voice, saying, "That tomb-guarding beast is made of stone. It usually sits motionless at the entrance of the tomb chamber, just like a broken stone. But as soon as you get close to the tomb door, green flames come out of its eyes, and it pounces. Luckily, I ran fast, and they stopped chasing me after I left the tomb passage."
Song Quyou frowned slightly and looked at Xiong Hai, asking, "Where did you see those Xuanhua axes?"
"The tomb door was pushed open, and inside were corpses lying in disarray. The Xuanhua axe was behind the door."
Song Quyou did not expose Xiong Hai's pride; his claim of "almost succeeding" actually meant he hadn't even entered the door.
"Where is that ancient tomb?"
Xiong Hai pointed south into the dense forest: "After crossing two mountain ridges, it's hidden under the Old Vine Cliff. The entrance is completely covered by banyan tree roots. If it weren't for the fact that we were chasing a deer last time and trampled the loose soil, I wouldn't have been able to find it."
Song Quyou hesitated for a moment, then said, "Come find me after the banquet tonight."
Xiong Hai's eyes lit up, and he was about to pat his chest and say something when Fang Li turned around and urged him, "What are you two whispering about? Father Xiong said we're opening that jar of monkey wine that's been buried for ten years tonight. If you dawdle any longer, we'll only be licking the bottom of the bowl!"
……
The two dawdled back to the village, and it was already dark.
Xiong Boyuan truly pulled out all the stops, setting up a long table with a continuous feast on the bluestone path in the center of the village, where men, women, and children from all over the village brought out food and drinks.
The table was piled high with a variety of dishes, including smoked wild boar legs that were a deep reddish-brown, smoked roe deer that was a glossy brownish-brown, wild honey mixed with chestnuts, and large chunks of roasted snake meat that were charred and fragrant.
Several elderly villagers with white hair were helped out of the stilted house. They looked up at the starry sky above them, which they had not seen for many years. Their lips trembled for a long time, but they could not say a word.
Song Quyou, who intended to drink less, was pulled to the children's table by Xiong Hai, leaving Mr. Wu, who had made the greatest contribution that day, alone, and he was repeatedly forced to drink.
Although he was at the children's table, the other men in the village who were drinking still noticed him and came over with their wine jugs.
Xiong Hai, with his sharp eyes, grabbed a wine bowl and stood in front of Song Quyou, then smiled at the hunters:
"Brothers, Master Song is a Taoist practitioner; how can he withstand such force-feeding? Come, come, I'll drink this bowl for him!"
After saying that, he tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp, the liquid running down his chin and into his collar.
The hunters weren't angry. Seeing that even the chieftain's son said so, they let Song Quyou go and turned their fire on Xiong Hai instead.
Xiong Hai accepted all the offers and drank three bowls in a row before finally sending them away.
That night, Xiongjia Village was brightly lit, and the festivities continued until the moon was high in the sky before gradually dispersing.
Song Quyou declined a lot of wine, citing that a person practicing cultivation should not drink too much. However, Mr. Wu was regarded as a hero by the villagers and was made to fall asleep on the table, snoring loudly and talking nonsense in his sleep.
Fang Li led several aunties to clean up the leftover food, while Xiong Boyuan helped several village elders back to rest. He kept muttering that he would erect a stone tablet in the center of the village tomorrow to commemorate the day when the clouds parted and the sun shone through.
Song Quyou returned to the stilted house on the cliff that Xiong Hai had arranged for him. Before leaving, he reminded Xiong Hai not to fall asleep.
……
late at night.
There was a knock on Song Quyou's door.
Big Yellow got up, barked briefly, and looked warily at the door.
Song Quyou, who was meditating, opened his eyes, got up, and opened the door.
Outside the door, Xiong Hai reeked of alcohol, with two short-handled hand axes at his waist and a roll of hemp rope on his back.
On that rough face, his eyes shone brightly, like a bear that had smelled honey.
"Brother Song, you're not asleep yet, are you?"
"I've been waiting for you for a long time." Song Quyou turned around, took out his bamboo hat and put it on, picked up his long sword, and quietly closed the door.
Dahuang followed closely behind Song Quyou without uttering a sound.
The two men and the dog stealthily left the village in the dark. The campfire in the village had gone out, leaving only a few lanterns under the eaves casting a dim yellow light.
"Brother Song, are you alright following along, dog?"
Song Quyou glanced at the big yellow dog behind him with a faint smile. Its belly was bulging and round, and its tail was swishing back and forth.
"It's alright, it's not an ordinary dog."