Chapter 85 — A Lone Sail on the Sea of Mist
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 3 of 3
The gray mist stirred in gentle waves, and the fog among the bone-mountains made the whole place seem a sea of mist. Suddenly lamplight came floating out.
Shen Mu fixed his eyes on it and gave a start: he saw a little skiff drifting out from between two bone-mountains. The skiff rode upon the mist. At its bow, from a single lonely mast, hung a paper lantern; there was no sail, and the lantern shed only a faint, feeble glow.
At the stern stood a boatman in a tattered straw cape, plying the oars, a conical bamboo hat on his head. Beneath the lantern sat another figure, also in a bamboo hat, his face unreadable.
The skiff soon glided to a stop before them. The man beneath the lantern rose, turned, bowed to the boatman, and took out a gold coin.
The boatman reached out to accept it, and Shen Mu saw at once that the boatman's hand was utterly without flesh or blood! Beneath that hat, inside that cape, was a skeleton! A skeleton ferrying a boat! The man beneath the lantern stepped off the skiff.
Seeing Shen Mu and the Village Head, he started a little, then bowed and said in an aged voice, "Daoist brother. " Shen Mu and the Village Head bowed in return.
"Daoist brother. " The man pressed his bamboo hat down and walked away. "Daoist brother, stay your steps," the Village Head said abruptly.
The man halted. "Has the Daoist brother any spare money?
" "You brought no money," the man said with a hoarse laugh, "and yet you want a ghost to turn the millstone? " The Village Head smiled.
"And so I would borrow a little from the Daoist brother.
" Laughter came from under the hat.
"Old Sword God, it has been a long age since I last saw you. Few of our generation are left; to meet here is fate.
Well, then—let me share a few Fengdu coins with you.
" He stretched out his palm, and several gold coins floated up from it.
The Village Head's countenance turned grave.
His primal qi manifested, growing arms and legs, and slowly he put out a hand to take the coins.
Their palms met, and each of their bodies swayed once.
The man beneath the hat drew his arm back, turned, and walked away, sighing, "You are old, but still a fraction stronger than I.
Still, I am a few years younger than you, and so I can afford to outlive you a while.
" The Village Head watched him go. "You have grown stronger than before," he said, "but you may not outlive me. " "Hard to say.
" The man beneath the hat sprang up and vanished.
The Village Head opened his hand, and four gold coins dropped into Shen Mu's palm. The arms and legs formed of his primal qi dimmed by degrees, and he said, "Shen'er, let us board the boat.
" His heart ill at ease, Shen Mu stepped onto the skiff.
The Village Head floated up after him and leaned against the mast. The boatman at the stern turned the prow, and the little boat drifted on, easy and steady, into the fog deep among the bone-mountains.