Chapter Thirteen: The Sign Language of Meeting

The rain grew heavier, and a misty drizzle began to rise over the city. Zhang Da, accompanied by two servants, shivered in the downpour. The fog was so thick that distant objects became barely visible. Although the three of them were sheltering in a pavilion, an eerie chill hung in the air—one that they could not dispel.

They dared to venture out boldly in the dead of night precisely because all three were cultivators.

Zhang Da was slightly better off, his complexion flushed with excitement, but the two servants looked pale and strangely ill, their eyes ringed with dark circles.

Not long ago, in a dream, a white-haired elder who called himself the “Infinite Venerable” declared their fate intertwined and offered to take Zhang Da as his disciple, promising that ruling and dominating the world would no longer be a mere dream.

The elder said that any willing disciple could quietly wait at the North Star Tea Pavilion during a rainfall, where a special magical device would come to fetch them to the elder’s cultivation sanctuary. All Zhang Da needed to do was get off at the final stop.

Awakening from the dream, Zhang Da was exhilarated yet skeptical. He summoned the two servants, and upon leaving the brothel, they found it truly raining. At that moment, he believed the dream was no illusion.

In the dream, the elder had taught him how to board this magical device, also revealing its name: the “Route 88 Bus,” or simply the “Bus 88.”

Everything so far had come true—but where was the bus?

Despite being cultivators, Zhang Da and his companions felt an unusual chill, as if even their inner energy could not stave off the cold. It felt ominous.

Zhang Da attributed this to the elder’s test. If he gave up this chance, the opportunity would slip away forever—and that was something he could not bear. So they waited quietly.

About ten minutes past midnight, two dim yellow lights appeared at the street corner, like a pair of glowing eyes that seemed on the verge of extinguishing at any moment.

It had arrived!

Zhang Da’s heart raced wildly. The dream was real, and his chance at rising had come!

Once accepted as the venerable’s disciple, the Xun and Yan families would be nothing but shadows—no one could stand in his way.

His father had long warned him that some secretive masters were eccentric individuals; the old man in his dream was likely one of them, or perhaps on the cusp of transcendence. This opportunity had to be seized at all costs.

“Get ready. You two, follow me!”

Zhang Da stepped out of the pavilion, eyes fixed with excitement on the slowly approaching vehicle.

As the bus neared, its vivid green color caught his eye. Through the transparent glass windows, he could see the driver. Above the driver’s head, a circular sign resembling a desk lamp bore the unmistakable “88” sprayed in white paint.

That was it—the sign the elder had shown him!

“Route 88 bus arriving at the stop. Passengers alighting at North Star Tea Pavilion, please disembark in an orderly manner. Boarding passengers, please insert one silver coin. Kindly give your seat to those in need. Thank you for your cooperation…”

The synthetic female voice of the broadcast system echoed. Zhang Da gave a subtle glance, and the two servants quickly followed him aboard.

The doors opened, and Zhang Da stepped on board confidently. He dropped a silver coin into the fare box; the two servants did the same, then all three took their seats at the rear.

After a minute, a sweating old man hurried from the pavilion and quietly boarded. He inserted his coin and was about to move further inside when the driver suddenly fixed him with a fierce stare.

“Sir, have you seen our Ni Ni?” the driver asked.

The old man broke into a cold sweat. He almost turned to flee but stammered, “N-no, I haven’t seen her…”

“Oh… if you do, please let me know… Thank you…” The driver drew on a cigarette, eyes dim and unfocused as he stared ahead.

“Alright…” the old man drifted into the cabin like a ghost, settling on a yellow seat near the back door, continuously wiping away non-existent cold sweat from his brow.

“Route 88 bus departing shortly. The final stop is Drowning River. Please hold onto the handrails and keep your heads and hands inside the windows. Next stop: Fragrant Pavilion. Passengers preparing to alight, please get ready.”

The announcement ended, and the driver restarted the engine.

Zhang Da, curious, peered out the window. Though he had ridden a bus in his dreams, he had never experienced one in reality, so his curiosity was natural.

Raindrops dotted the glass, blurring the view of the cold, dark street outside.

The bus interior was silent except for the driver and the old man, with only Zhang Da and his two servants adding to the quiet. The atmosphere felt strange, almost ominous.

One servant, intrigued by this magical device, reached out to touch the handrails and the dangling levers, inching closer to the driver.

Suddenly, the driver snapped his head around and shouted, “What do you think you’re doing?”

The servant stumbled backward, startled by the harsh outburst—anyone would have been shaken by such sudden aggression.

“N-nothing… I was just looking ahead…” he quickly apologized. But his expression froze. Sitting at the back earlier had felt fine, but now dread crept over him.

“Please remain seated…” the driver said in a deep voice, then resumed driving.

Through the faint light of the night, the driver’s features were blurred. He wore a red jacket with a matching red undershirt—a bizarre choice of attire in the cultivation world, where such colors were strikingly out of place.

The first servant’s fear stemmed entirely from the driver’s gaze, which resembled that of a hunter sizing up a weak prey. If Zhang Da hadn’t warned him repeatedly, he might have wished to destroy the driver to banish the terror.

Trembling, the servant moved into the cabin and saw the sweating old man. He forced a smile and sat opposite him in a separate green seat.

To become a servant of a young master like Zhang Da, one had to be no ordinary individual—either exceptionally intelligent or powerful. Judging by these two, both were clearly men of wit.

“Sir, why are you out so late?” the servant asked.

The old man wore a gray robe and bore a kindly face, though his eyes darted nervously, betraying his unease. Hearing the question, his body trembled but he answered the servant.

“I’m looking for my granddaughter, named Cuihua. Have you seen her?”

As he spoke, both the old man and the servant felt a faint gaze cast upon them, intensifying the elder’s trembling.

The servant forced calm and smiled. “Don’t worry, sir. She will be found. May I ask your name?”

“Sigh… I’m Chen Yi, the former owner of North Star Tea Pavilion. I had no choice but to come out at this hour…” the old man lamented, oblivious to the servant’s growing pallor.

Perhaps it was a trick of the mind, but once aboard, Zhang Da and the others felt their inner power sealed. Outwardly, nothing seemed amiss, but inwardly, they were deeply unsettled.

After some conversation, the servant courteously returned to the rear seats.

The two servants had lived and worked together for years, well acquainted with each other. Through shared experiences and some mischievous dreams, they could communicate silently with gestures.

The first servant coughed lightly and began signaling: “The person in front isn’t right… and that old man isn’t human.”

The second servant’s forehead broke out in sweat. He quickly gestured back: “What’s going on? Tell me everything you know.”

First servant: “That old man is Chen Yi, supposedly the owner of the North Star Tea Pavilion!”

Second servant: “What? Impossible! I just came from there—there was no one else!”

First servant: “Exactly! That’s why he’s suspicious! He doesn’t have legs!”

Second servant: “That’s bad news! We need to find a way to get the young master out of here!”

First servant: “The driver’s been watching us closely. We can’t leave!”

Second servant: “This is serious. We must be careful!”

First servant: “Fine. You come up with a plan quickly. I don’t want to stay here a moment longer!”

Second servant: “Wait for my signal, then we’ll get off together!”

...

[Postscript: Prosperity, democracy, civility, and harmony; freedom, equality, justice, and the rule of law; patriotism, dedication, integrity, and friendship.]