Chapter Fifty: Ding Family Inn at Tianmen Mountain

Tianmen Mountain, like Mount Mo Hui, is part of a mountain range with several peaks nestled within. However, Tianmen Mountain is not as rugged as Mount Mo Hui, and it boasts only five peaks. The valley is blessed with beautiful scenery, making it an ideal place for a hermit’s retreat, yet not a single recluse dwells there; the only inhabitants are bandits.

Among these bandits, some were once farmers who, unable to eke out a living, joined the ranks of Tianmen Mountain. Others started as petty thugs, extorting protection money, but seeing that banditry brought richer rewards, they too took to the mountains.

The chief of Tianmen Mountain, Lin Ruhai, was originally from Ningyuan Road. After committing murder, he fled to Qiuhe Prefecture to escape government capture. Thus began his years of hiding—years that saw dynasties change, as the Fengyan Kingdom gave way to the present Qianwu Kingdom.

Ningyuan Road lies on the border of Qianwu, adjacent to the Western Wilderness, so many foreigners reside there. Over time, intermarriage among people of different nations became common, and children of mixed heritage were born. Lin Ruhai’s mother hailed from Qianwu, while his father was a merchant from a small country in the Western Wilderness, who came to Qianwu for trade. Thus, Lin Ruhai’s features bore a mysterious, exotic charm: emerald green eyes, deep as the sea and gem-like; a hooked nose that lent an untamed sensuality; thin lips, sharp as if carved by a blade, betraying no warmth or affection.

Such striking features, combined on one face, should have been captivating—and indeed, Lin Ruhai was a wildly handsome man. Yet the calculation and cold cruelty in his gaze marred his beauty, rendering him seedy and repellent at first glance.

When Lin Ruhai first arrived in Qiuhe Prefecture, his ability to gather so many followers and seize Tianmen Mountain was due to the medicinal elixirs he brought from Ningyuan Road. Yet this chieftain had a peculiar inclination: he shunned women, preferring men, always taking the more arduous path. Thus, his private quarters were filled only with delicate, beautiful young men; though approaching forty, he had no heirs.

It was said that Chief Lin was especially fond of those closest at hand; most of the bandits in his stronghold had shared his bed. There were even rumors that Bai Longhu of Baishui Gorge was his lover, and not the dominant partner at that.

But let us leave these matters aside and speak instead of Luo Changning and his companions, who hurriedly made their way to Tianmen Mountain. Not far from the mountain’s base was a street known as Ding Family Market, lined with shops run by merchants all bearing the surname Ding.

Thanks to the longstanding customs of Annan Road, the merchants of Ding Family Market conducted their business in peace, undisturbed by bandits. In fact, the presence of Tianmen Mountain’s outlaws kept other thugs at bay, making the market even safer than most places.

Upon entering Ding Family Market, Luo Changning and his companions began asking around for any recent happenings at Tianmen Mountain, hoping to learn if anyone had been taken captive. After much inquiry, no one could say what was happening on the mountain, and the trio could not help but feel discouraged.

“Why does no one know anything about the mountain? If Aunt Su has really been taken, we’d never know,” Ma Xue’e lamented, her shoulders slumping in dejection.

But Luo Changning had resolved that if no definite news came within two days, whether or not his aunt was on Tianmen Mountain, he would storm the stronghold himself!

As dusk fell and night descended, Zhong Bo and Qing Gu arrived at Ding Family Market with their men, including the physician Wang. Once everyone had gathered, they decided to first find an inn for the night, eat a hearty meal, and then continue their inquiries.

If it was an unwritten rule that bandits and pirates spared their own townsfolk, there was a hard law that any captive brought to the mountain must not be harmed for three days; if the captive was a woman, she must not be touched in any way during that time. Only after three days would the bandits see who came to claim the prisoner, and decide their fate accordingly.

This was not merely a custom but an iron rule; even a mountain chief or island lord who broke it would be condemned by all. The reason for such a rule was simple: to avoid offending the wrong people. If someone’s powerful kin came seeking a loved one who had already been killed or violated, it would bring disaster upon the entire mountain. Out of this fear, the rule was enshrined.

Thus, though Luo Changning and his companions were anxious, all they could do was eat first—only with strength could they search and save anyone.

After a quick meal, they dispersed again to gather news. The young servant, soon to be a groom, also joined in the questioning, but the very thought of climbing the mountain himself was out of the question.

Despite sending out nearly fifteen people, they learned nothing useful. After a long, fruitless day, exhausted, they returned to the inn to rest. In truth, the real reason was that night had deepened, and the streets were nearly deserted—there was no one left to question; all they could do was rest and regain their strength.

Inside his room, Luo Changning stood at the window, gazing at the sky where the moon grew ever closer to fullness. His brows knit tight, he murmured softly, “Aunt, are you on Tianmen Mountain? What has happened to you—have you come to harm? Aunt, you must be safe, or I fear… I fear I’ll go mad, that I’ll want to destroy everything!”

For I cannot be without you…

Elsewhere, in Ma Qingyun’s room, no one lay upon the bed. The always-cool man stood at the window in the same clothes he had worn all day, exuding a chill even colder than the night dew—an icy aura that struck fear into the heart.

“Tianmen Mountain!” He clenched his fists, turbulent emotions surging within. “Perhaps, for your sake, I can go mad—just this once!”

How long he stood so, he did not know, when a pale gray bird flew in and landed in Ma Qingyun’s upraised palm. This time, instead of stroking the bird’s feathers, he stuffed a scrap of paper into a tiny bamboo tube and withdrew his hand. The bird, expecting its master’s caress, nearly tumbled to the floor when Ma Qingyun abruptly pulled away. Perhaps sensing its master’s displeasure, the little creature cast a reproachful glance with its tiny, bean-sized eyes, then flew off.

Poor little one, so aggrieved, so bitter—where was the promised affection?

Yet Ma Qingyun gave no heed to his beloved bird, his icy presence lingering in the room.

At dawn the next day, Ma Xue’e pushed open her door and headed downstairs, rubbing her eyes and yawning, listless and weary. The Ding Family Market lay in peaceful quiet; apart from the noises of shopkeepers preparing for the day, there was little else stirring. In their inn, kitchen helpers and staff bustled with boiling water, cleaning, steaming buns and bread, and cooking porridge, all in readiness for the guests’ washing and breakfast.

Ma Xue’e, still half asleep, descended and saw four people seated at a square table in the main hall—Luo Changning, Ma Qingyun, Qing Gu, and Zhong Bo—all silent and grave. Of them, Qing Gu, usually so boisterous, was uncharacteristically quiet.

Aside from them and the accountant dozing at the counter, the hall was empty; the kitchen, however, was alive with activity. None of the four noticed Ma Xue’e’s arrival, and the lazy accountant was even less aware—had a thief slipped behind the counter, he would hardly have stirred. The oppressive weather of early October made everyone drowsy and lethargic.

“You’re all up already? I thought I’d be the first,” Ma Xue’e said as she plopped down beside Qing Gu, resting her cheek on her hand atop the table, though her tone lacked its usual cheer.

With Su Meng missing, it was no time for her usual banter; on any other day, she might have teased, “Since when have you ever risen before us? Even the big old bear is up and about before you!”

“Good morning, Xue’e,” Luo Changning greeted her with a smile, despite his heavy heart.

Soon, the waiter brought over the breakfast—steamed buns with meat, flower rolls, fried dough sticks, and millet porridge, all filling fare.

“Honored guests, please enjoy your meal!”