Chapter 122 — The Altar
劍問蒼天 · Page 4 of 7
Whether she understood through her drunkenness or not, hearing Ming Li's voice at her ear, she did not open her eyes. A smile flickered faintly across her face, bewitching beyond measure, but she said nothing—only her hand, clutching Ming Li's garments, tightened by another degree.
Ming Li was helpless. This was, after all, an unfamiliar place, and Xiaobai was drunk to such a state; to leave a woman here alone would leave him uneasy. Turning it over in his mind, he gave a helpless sigh, reached out, and gathered her up, supporting Xiaobai as they walked up the mountain together.
Tu Magu led the way; Ming Li walked supporting Xiaobai, whose body remained limp and soft, her steps light and unsteady, the greater part of her weight resting in Ming Li's hands. Ming Li's brows were knitted, his heart filled with an indescribable feeling—when suddenly he thought of something and turned his head.
Sure enough, Little Grey had not moved at all. It sat where it was, eating fruit and drinking strong liquor, letting out the occasional "chi chi" laugh, so happy it had forgotten to go home.
Ming Li kicked out with his foot and sent a banana flying; it struck Little Grey square on the head and gave the monkey a start. Its head whipped around, and it raised a paw to touch the spot where it had been hit.
Ming Li said sourly, "We are leaving." With that, he supported Xiaobai and followed Tu Magu up toward the altar on the mountain.
Little Grey scratched its head, stood up, dropped the fruit in its hand (it had, in truth, eaten most of it), and shook the wine sack. That soldier had held his liquor well and had already drunk a great deal; and when the sack had fallen to the ground, much of the liquor had spilled. After the monkey had been at it a while, the sack was already scraped dry.
Little Grey tossed the sack to the ground and was about to follow Ming Li when its body suddenly lurched and it gave a drunken hiccup. Its monkey face slowly reddened—plainly the Miao's strong liquor was no ordinary brew, and the effects were only now creeping up on it.
Still, Little Grey was after all a creature of rare spirit. Though its face grew redder, it moved as usual, and hurried off to catch up with Ming Li.
Only, as they went up the mountain path, the Miao soldiers who had stood guard earlier had collapsed here in great numbers, and the ground was littered with drunkards and wine sacks. Ming Li, supporting Xiaobai, went first, and Little Grey, walking along, suddenly stopped, picked up another large wine sack from the ground, raised it to its ear, and shook it—it gurgled and sloshed, and there seemed to be a fair amount left, at which its monkey countenance lit with delight.
At this unexpected joy, Little Grey grew merry at once, picking up a sack here and shaking it twice, a sack there and shaking it twice, gathering as it walked. But a monkey has only two paws—picking up one meant dropping another—and yet Little Grey's greed knew no bounds and it would not let any go. It piled the seven or eight sacks it had gathered from here and there together, yet could not carry them all at once, and was so frantic it set up a "chi chi" clamor.
It was about to raise its head and beg its master for help when the look gave it a fright—its master, following the old Miao man, had already gone far, nearly to the altar on the mountain. Little Grey chattered wildly, leaping this way and that, scratching its ears and cheeks, frantic as an ant on a hot pan. At last, with a hard heart, it snatched up two sacks at random and, dragging them along the ground behind it, ran desperately up the mountain.
Fortunately the Miao stitched their wine sacks from thick, sturdy hide; otherwise, dragged about like that, they would long since have split. At the sight of the monkey's comical antics, laughter erupted from the crowd of Miao watching below, carried far and echoing through the valley of Seven Li Cave.