Chapter Thirty-Four: Meng Xiaoli Descends into Madness

Meng Xiaoli, reeking of alcohol and dazed, was shunned wherever she went. People chased her away with brooms or swiped at her with rags, but she never fought back, only drinking and giggling foolishly.

Sometimes, when hungry, she would stand motionless by a stall. The owner would tease her, "Fool, do you want to eat? Come inside and do some work for me, and I’ll give you a bowl." Meng Xiaoli would curiously ask, "What kind of work?" The owner would set her to chopping wood and tending the fire. When exhausted, she would ask, "When will you give me that bowl of noodles?" The owner would roar, "Who said I’d give you noodles, you idiot?" Knowing the owner was tricking her, Meng Xiaoli would dash into the kitchen, grab a bowl of noodles, and run, eating as she fled. The owner would chase her for a long distance before she returned the empty bowl, leaving the man to accept his loss, cursing as he turned back.

Meng Xiaoli walked on, laughing wildly, drinking as she was pointed at by passersby. Whenever she stopped, a crowd would gather. Seeing her rummage frantically through her clothes, someone ignorant would tease, "Fool, what are you looking for?"

She would continue searching, checking herself and then the sleeves of others. Everyone watched as a joke. Panic-stricken, she asked, "Where are my things? They’re gone." Someone asked, "What things?"

Meng Xiaoli spread her hands and asked the crowd, "Everything I once possessed, so many things I once had—where have they all gone?" The crowd burst into laughter, declaring her hopelessly insane.

Ignoring their mockery, she kept searching, muttering, "They vanished in the blink of an eye. So many things—who stole them?" The onlookers—some smiling, some laughing hysterically, some clutching their sides—watched with cold disdain. Even the mischievous children circled her, chanting, "Fool, big fool..."

Suddenly, someone shoved her in the chest, and another tripped her. Meng Xiaoli fell flat on her back, staring at the sky, her ears filled with endless derision.

She sighed bitterly to herself, "Life is no longer beautiful. Everything I gained is being lost. They say this is the law of life, but I have lost my joy and my heart has no home."

For days, she lay in a street corner, listening to the insults and watching the passing crowds. She wondered, "Are they truly kind? Where is the kindness? Even these seemingly innocent children harbor malice. Was what Jin Yan'er sacrificed her life to save worth it? Why did she even bother?"

To prove something, she began knocking on doors. Of eight houses, four offered a bowl of water, while the other four cursed and drove her away.

She thought, "If this last house is kind, I will hold onto hope for humanity. If they are cruel, I will believe that people are not worth loving." She knocked on the final door. A man opened it, sized her up, and asked, "What is it?" Meng Xiaoli requested, "Could you spare a bowl of water?" "Get lost! What do you think you are?" With a sharp shout, the door slammed shut.

Meng Xiaoli stood frozen. "Nine houses. Five turned me away. It seems the wicked truly outnumber the good."

Just then, a filthy vagrant approached, laughing, and lunged at her, clutching her tight. "Why don't you be my wife? I’ve never touched a woman in my life!" The onlookers erupted in laughter.

Meng Xiaoli calmly took a sip of wine, her eyes hazy, and flicked her hand, slapping the man. He flipped over, blood spilling from his mouth, and fell to the ground, motionless.

Thinking he was just acting, the crowd searched him for valuables, even taking his copper coins and kicking him with disgust before leaving.

Meng Xiaoli sighed, "I used seventy percent of my power on that slap; your death is not unjust." She stumbled away.

Seeing she had killed a man, the crowd grabbed sticks and kitchen knives, blocking her path and threatening to beat her to death.

Two young girls spoke up timidly, "She doesn't seem like a bad person; she must have her reasons." Another added, "Besides, the vagrant provoked her first."

The crowd turned on them, "Sympathizing with a murderer? You are accomplices! You deserve to die too." One girl quickly waved her hand, "No matter what, killing is wrong. She deserves to die," she said, switching sides. Meng Xiaoli shook her head with a bitter smile. However, the other girl insisted, "The vagrant was a thief who stole and harassed women in the street. None of you stood up for justice then. Now that she’s killed a villain, you all suddenly want to be righteous?"

"Kill her!" someone screamed. The crowd struck the girl with their weapons. Being frail and unskilled, she fell, blood pouring from her mouth after a brutal blow to the head.

Meng Xiaoli was stunned. Could the people here be so vicious as to beat a fellow villager to death? Did they have no human hearts?

That girl had only spoken a few words for her, yet they killed her out of cold, selfish malice. Was Jin Yan'er's sacrifice truly worth it?

As the insults rained down, Meng Xiaoli’s resentment surged. Her eyes turned black, her lips darkened, and her fingernails grew sharp. She plunged into a state of demonic madness.

Spinning around, she used her long nails to slaughter everyone present, not even sparing the girl who had turned on her. She picked up her wine flask and stumbled away, a fugitive and a demon in the eyes of the world.

Reaching a mountain forest, she saw her reflection in a lake and was terrified. "If my master saw me like this, how heartbroken would she be?" She washed her hair in the clear water, strapped on her bone umbrella and her whip, and stood up, her thin figure descending the mountain.

On a mountain path, she saw a group of bandits on horseback carrying a kidnapped woman. Recalling her own past—betrayed and hunted—her heart burned with fury.

Standing on a ridge, Meng Xiaoli drew her bone umbrella, opened it, and descended before them. The men reined in their horses, seeing a woman in red hidden behind a black umbrella. "Who stands in our way?"

Without a word, blades sprang from the rim of the umbrella, spinning toward them. The leader leaped from his horse, but Meng Xiaoli was faster, landing on his mount and swinging the umbrella. As the leader landed, the blades sliced his face. He swung his sword, but she dodged, the blade shearing the horse's haunches. With a swift thrust, the steel needle at the tip of her umbrella pierced the leader's skull, silencing him instantly.

She landed, spinning the umbrella through the group, slicing into the bandits. Before they could react to their leader's death, they were already falling, their chests and abdomens carved open.

The kidnapped woman saw her stand calmly at the edge of the road, closing her black umbrella and walking away without looking back. Behind her, the bandits toppled from their horses, eyes wide, stone dead.

Realizing she had been saved, the woman scrambled off her horse and chased after her. "Thank you, Lady Knight! But I'm still tied up—if I meet more bad men, I won't survive. Please, come back and untie me!"

Meng Xiaoli stopped. The girl reminded her of herself, pleading for help from the cold-faced scholar years ago. She turned, moved to the girl, cut the ropes in a blur of motion, and continued walking.

The girl, Ji Hongluan, followed closely. "I'm Ji Hongluan, what's your name?" Getting no response, she chattered on, "I'm an orphan. I've always wanted to learn martial arts like yours, to uphold justice. I never found a master, and I almost ended up a bandit's wife."

Seeing Meng Xiaoli’s stony face, she continued, "Are you alone too? Where are you going? Can we travel together? Why are you so gloomy? If I had your skills, I’d be happy every day, laughing even in my dreams."

Meng Xiaoli turned, looking at the girl's bright, flushed face. "You envy me?"

Ji Hongluan nodded, "Yes! With your skills, you'd never be bullied. I’d want for nothing else."

Meng Xiaoli stood dazed. She had learned from the great Dugu to stop being a victim, but when did she become someone to be envied? Had she truly achieved her wish? Yet, why was she not happy? Perhaps, on the road to fulfilling one's wishes, one loses more than one gains. By the end, everything is unrecognizable.