The Snake Catcher

One hot summer noon in the 1970s, I was walking home after visiting a classmate when I passed by the entrance of Zhijiang County People's Hospital. As I approached the hospital’s front gate, I saw a crowd of about ten people gathered in the shade near the stone steps by the wall. Curious, I walked over to see what was happening.  

At the center of the crowd sat a man in his thirties on a makeshift stretcher made from a bamboo recliner. His tanned face and upper body were bare except for a pair of shorts, and his lower leg was wrapped in gauze. He was talking to those around him.  

“Why don’t you give it a try? The doctors might be able to help,” someone asked.  

“The doctors don’t know as much about this as I do. They won’t have a solution,” the man replied. 

“You can’t just go back like this,” another person said.  

“If they can’t cure me, staying here will only leave my family with a debt they’ll never be able to repay,” the man responded.  

After listening for a while, I began to understand the situation.  

The man was a farmer who caught snakes in the mountains to supplement his family’s income. His father had been a snake catcher and had taught him the skill from a young age. The two often ventured into the mountains together to catch and sell snakes. 

Zhijiang, located at the edge of the Yunnan-Guizhou Plateau, is rich in subtropical forests with dense trees and lush vegetation—ideal conditions for snakes. Even in the city, it wasn’t uncommon to encounter snakes, and in the countryside, snake bites and deaths occurred regularly. Some killed snakes that entered their homes or gardens and cooked them, enjoying the meat. However, I had never heard of anyone catching snakes specifically to sell.  

At the time, life was hard. Farming alone couldn’t provide enough food, let alone money for necessities. The government purchased snakes for medicinal use or for making products like erhu strings from their skins. Snake catching became a good way to earn money, and while selling vegetables was prohibited, selling snakes was not. Few people had the skill, but the demand was high, making it a viable livelihood. 

However, snake catching was dangerous. The man’s father had died from a snake bite. Despite knowing the risks, the man continued the trade to support his family. Each year, he caught dozens of snakes, sometimes more, sometimes less, easing his family’s burden. 

Aware of the dangers, he carried antidotes his father had passed down and developed some of his own. Whenever bitten, he would immediately apply the medicine to neutralize the venom. He had been bitten before but had always survived thanks to these remedies.  

Yet, no matter how cautious, mistakes happen. A few days ago, while catching snakes, he was bitten but found he had forgotten his antidote at home after changing clothes. He tried to find herbs on the mountain, but by the time he returned home to apply the antidote, it was too late—the venom had already spread.  

Though he knew the hospital couldn’t help, his family insisted on bringing him. Understanding their concern, he agreed to come, but the doctors confirmed they had no antidote and could only perform basic tests.  

The crowd fell silent, the air heavy with the weight of his calm recounting. He spoke as if describing someone else’s story—his steady voice and composed demeanor hid the gravity of his condition.  

When asked if he had ever considered the risk, he said he had. From the moment he started catching snakes, he was mentally prepared for the possibility of being bitten and killed. He knew it was part of the job.  

Though calm, his family was distraught and desperate to save him. However, he didn’t want to pursue futile treatments that would leave them in debt.  

Some tried to console him, suggesting divine intervention or a hidden expert who might know the cure. The man smiled and said, “That’s impossible. No one knows more about snake venom than I do. Look—my body is already swollen, and my limbs are starting to shine. This means the venom has reached my bloodstream and bones. It’s too late.”  

I stood there silently, unable to say anything. The man sat quietly without bitterness or fear, his composure leaving a lasting impression on everyone present.  

He said he was waiting for his family to complete the hospital procedures before returning home. Before his family arrived, I left.  

I never saw or heard about him again, but I have never forgotten him.  

 

Written in 2017.

 

Mrs. Deng and her old sow

In the 1970s, our family had been neighbors with Master Deng’s family for several years. Master Deng was about 50 years old, of medium height, with a dark face, and worked as a master chef in the school cafeteria. Mrs. Deng is also about 50 years old and a housewife. They have five children in total. The eldest brother, the second sister have gone to work elsewhere. The third child was a girl, went to the countryside and became an educated youth (school graduate without job in city). They rarely come home. Deng Xiangyuan, the fourth child, whose nickname is Xiaomao (small hair), is two years younger than me. The fifth child, Deng Xianglian, a girl, nickname is Wu Mei (the fifth sister), who is four or five years younger than me.

In the early years, there were five children in the family, and only Master Deng worked. He had a long working experience, but because he was a worker, he was only paid more than 30 yuan per month. Things were cheap in those days, but it was still difficult to feed a family of seven with this little money. Therefore, Mrs. Deng raised pigs at home very early and made money by selling piglets to supplement the family income.

We live in a school house, and the school does not allow faculty and staff to keep any animals. But because this place is far away from the campus and Master Deng’s family is really in trouble, so the school leaders turned a blind eye to Master Deng’s pig raising.

The house we live in used to belong to Yang Yongqing, a famous person in Zhijiang. Yang Yongqing served as a soldier in his early years, and later became a division commander, leading the troops to participate in the Northern Expedition. He was ostracized because he was not a direct member of Chiang Kai-shek's army, so he returned to his hometown in anger. During the Republic of China, he served as a county councilor. He did not go to Taiwan with Chiang Kai-shek in 1949, but the new government shot him as a bandit.

Because his house is close to the school, it becomes an asset of the school. This is a big courtyard. It was originally supposed to have a very high wall, but it was later demolished. The courtyard is backed by the city wall. There is a tree at the back of the city wall that is said hundreds of years old and needs several people to embrace it. There are five widely separated branches on it, like a hand with five fingers open to hold the sky. Some people call this tree the five-finger tree. An old man said that this tree can ward off evil spirits and ward off demons. It is a magical tree. To the east of the yard is the high wall of the county jail, and to the south is a large slope. At the bottom of the slope is the school cafeteria, and further down is the school water room, and the teaching building is still further south. To the west is a large pond. The house is a quiet place well isolated from the outside world.

Life was very poor at that time, but public security was very good. The surrounding neighbors are honest and reliable, and our house has never had a door lock, and never carried key. When I got to university, I felt it strange to have to lock the door when going out for quite some time. There was a key in my pocket first time in my life. I liked jumping around and joined the school track and field team, so the key popped out at some point, I lost my key. Not only did I have to replace my key all the time, but I also lost the key I borrowed temporarily from my roommates several times. I was severely criticized by my roommates many times. It wasn't until later that I thought hard and came up with a trick: string a lot of cheap keys together with key rings. If they fall on the ground, they will make a big sound and be easy to hear and find. From then on, I never lost any keys again.

There is a building in the middle of the compound, with four bungalows on the left and right and behind. We lived with Master Deng’s family in the bungalow at the east end. We had two rooms in the east wing, and they had two rooms in the west wing. The back room was occupied by Teacher Yi and Sister Tang, who had just married at that time. There was a lobby room in the middle. It is a place where the three families chatted together.

In front of the main room is a small open space, and beyond that is a vegetable patch the size of half a basketball court. The terrain here is higher than the surrounding areas. Looking south from the steps in front of the main hall, you can see the stacked houses and trees in Zhijiang City below. In spring, when the flowers are in bloom, you can have a panoramic view of the city.

Mrs. Deng is a bit hunchbacked because she has been doing housework all year round. She always smiles when she meets people, but doesn't talk much. She had a large sow for several years when we moved there. She specifically gives birth to piglets and raises them until the full month (60 days). Mrs. Deng sells the piglets to those who want to raise meat pigs.

Mrs. Deng’s pig raising is unique. Not only does she take great care of her sow, but she also has some tricks up her sleeve. For example, under her training, the sow never pooped or peed in the pig pen. If she wanted to poop or pee, she would press the door of the pigsty with her mouth. When Mrs. Deng heard this, she took the urine bucket and ladle, opened the door of the pigsty, and let the sow walk out slowly. After the sow came out, she squatted down on her hind legs. Mrs. Deng reached down to catch the urine scoop, and then poured the urine into the urine bucket. Sow also eats outside, not in the pig pen. Therefore, the inside of the pigsty is very dry and very clean. Mrs. Deng cleans the outside of the pig pen at all times, and there is no pig feces. Although her pig pen is right next to the wall in front of our kitchen, we don't feel any peculiar smell.

In the summer, it was very hot in the pigsty, so she let the sow out, poured water on the concrete floor on the doorstep, let the sow lie down, watered the sow from time to time, and used a brush to clean the pig's body. Use a fan to cool the sow. To avoid mosquito bites, she would light two mosquito incense sticks next to the sows to drive them away. When she saw red and swollen spots on the skin of pigs with mosquito bites, she would apply red liquid (mercurochrome) on them. The sow was motionless at this time, enjoying Mrs. Deng's service to her heart's content.

She often spoke to the sow in the bimodal dialect: Come out, go over, lie down, go back! The sow seemed to understand her words and always followed her instructions obediently. Sometimes, when the sow makes a mistake, she will also scold: "You beast, why are you in such a hurry? I didn't even get it right, and you pulled it, and you pulled it on the ground!"

Although Mrs. Deng has never read a book, she knows that sows need calcium supplements when they are pregnant, otherwise the piglets will not grow well. Her method of calcium supplementation is very original. Just buy some bones, boil them in pig food, and let the sow chew them.

A poor family produces filial sons. Because of the difficulties at home, the children of the Deng family are very considerate of their parents' hard work and always appreciate Mrs. Deng's work. Mrs. Deng basically doesn’t buy feed when raising pigs. The pigweed is she and Xiaomao, and Fifth Sister goes to hunt (pick) it. There is a small private plot behind the house. In addition to growing vegetables, they also grow some pig feed such as millet. But most pig feed is pig grass collected from vegetable fields, ponds, and roadsides. After beating the pigweed, put a cutting board in a large bathtub, chop the pigweed, mix it with the purchased rice bran, sometimes add some leftover rice, cook it in a big pot and feed it to the pigs. Xiao Mao and Wu Mei often help with these things. When a sow is pregnant, she will add more grain, rice bran, wheat bran and other concentrated feed to increase nutrition.

In addition to raising pigs, Mrs. Deng will make several vinegar radish jars, put long beans, knife beans, wild rice, radish slices, and ginger slices grown on her own land, soak them for a period of time, and eat them out. They are crispy and sour, which is very good taste. Sometimes when I go to her house, she will take some from the jar and put it in a small bowl to satisfy my craving.

She also makes Twin Peaks hot sauce every summer. Buy red chili peppers and chop them into pieces, add cooked wheat and soy beans, mix them and expose them to the hot sun. She stirs them several times a day and take them back at night. She drys the hot sauce every day, I can smell the aroma of the hot sauce from afar. Leave it in the sun for more than a month, then put it in a jar to marinate, and scoop out a few spoonfuls when it's time to eat. The tangy hot sauce is the best appetizer. They often give us a bottle to try. There are also many other dishes that are processed by oneself, such as chopped peppers, dried beans, pickled eggplant, ancai (dried plum vegetables), etc.

Food was extremely scarce in those days, and meat was rarely available. These homemade side dishes have become our children’s favorite food and are my most memorable memories.

This sow is very impressive. She gives birth to two litters of piglets to Mrs. Deng every year, with each litter ranging from 10 - 12 piglets. A sow has twelve nipples and usually gives birth to up to twelve piglets. The piglets are just born, not much bigger than mice, and cannot open their eyes, but they all use their mouths to dig into the sow's belly, find the nipples, and suck greedily. Seeing a row of eleven or twelve smooth-skinned, meaty piglets clinging to the sow sucking milk, Mrs. Deng always had a kind smile on her face.

On two occasions, the sow gave birth to thirteen piglets. If left alone, the weakest piglet will eventually starve to death because it cannot compete for the nipple. Mrs. Deng personally went to battle every day, pulling a piglet that was happily sucking milk from the sow's teat, and put the weakest piglet on it to suck milk. Next time she forced the other piglets to eat less. Sometimes, she lets the piglets out to play. When feeding, put the weakest piglet back into the pen to suck milk first. When it is full, let the other piglets feed. So all of her piglets look good, with little difference in size.

Whenever the weather was nice, Mrs. Deng would let the piglets out to bask in the sun and play on the small terrace at the entrance of the main room. The piglets are clean and have beautiful pink skin. They hump everywhere and fight with each other, which is very cute. At this time, the courtyard becomes even more vibrant.

When they are one full month (60 days) old, she will ask a pigmaker to cut off the testicles of the boars and remove the ovaries of the piglets, because these pigs are sold as meat pigs. After two Months of feeding, when each piglet grows to about 18-25 pounds, people who preordered piglets come to buy piglets.

Advertising was not popular in those days, but Mrs. Deng’s piglets were well-known far and wide, so there was no need to advertise, and reservations were made early, so latecomers could not buy them. The price was one yuan per catty (the price of pork back then was seventy-four cents per catty). At that time, people who sold live pigs often overfed the pigs before selling them in order to make more money. But I have never seen Mrs. Deng do this.

20 piglets can be sold for about 400 yuan a year. Because the cost is not high, the net profit will not be less than 300 yuan. It is equivalent to one year's salary of a skilled worker back then. It is quite remarkable that an uneducated housewife can earn so much by raising pigs.

Mrs. Deng didn't talk much, except to yell at the sow. What I hear most is calling my son in rich Shuangfeng dialect: "Mao Yazi! (Little Boy) Come home for dinner." She usually just smiles when she sees me, rarely talks, and never seems to pay attention to me. When I was sixteen years old, I had grown tall. One day, I heard her say to my mother: "Your Lewei is getting better and handsome as he grows older. He is now a young man!".

Master Deng cares very much about his children and is afraid that something will happen to them. They were never allowed to swim in the river in summer. I took my brothers swimming every day, and sometimes there were other children following me, and I was like the king of children. After dinner every day, we shouted to go to the river. Xiao Mao also wanted to go, but Master Deng firmly refused. Master Deng couldn't swim and never went there himself, so Xiao Mao had no chance to swim in the river. As Xiao Mao got older, the conflict with Master Deng in this regard became more and more serious. Seeing the father and son arguing more and more, Mrs. Deng said: "I think Lewei is very reliable. Follow him, it should be fine." Master Deng thought about it for a few days and finally asked Xiao Mao to go swimming with me. The next year, Fifth Sister can also go swimming with us.

Year after year, day after day. Mrs. Deng made money by raising pigs and raised all five children. Her back is also hunched, and the sow is getting older. When I went to the countryside, she asked someone to kill the old sow, and then raised less laborious pigs for two years. After Xiao Mao and Wu Mei were admitted to technical secondary school, she stopped raising pigs.

I was admitted to college and left Zhijiang in 1978. Xiaomao was admitted to the medical school that year, and fifth sister was admitted to the kindergarten normal school the next year. Our family also moved away.

When I returned to China in 2006, I learned that Xiao Mao was no longer working in Zhijiang, that Master Deng had passed away long ago, and that Mrs. Deng was in poor health. I invited many teacher friends to dinner, and I also invited fifth sister, who was already the principal of Zhijiang Kindergarten at that time. Because there were so many people, there was no chance to talk to fifth sister.

When I returned to China in 2009, I made a special trip to the kindergarten and met fifth sister and Mrs. Deng who lived with her. Mrs. Deng is nearly ninety years old. Her face is glowing and she is in good spirits. She can walk on her own. I called her, "Hello, Mrs. Deng!" She smiled and said something to herself, as if she wasn't talking to me and didn't look at me.

Fifth sister said to her: "Lewei is here to see you. Do you remember him?". Mrs. Deng just smiled and did not answer. She raised her head and squinted at the clear sky.

The fifth sister told me that her mother has suffered from Alzheimer's disease in recent years. It is not very serious, but she can't remember the people and things in the past. Mrs. Deng doesn't look like she has dementia at all. It's obvious that Fifth Sister took good care of her mother.

Mrs. Deng, who has worked hard all her life, deserves such a blessing.

Written in 2013

P.S. Mrs. Deng passed away about a year later. 

 

School Dog Baizi (白子）

Along the banks of the Wushui River in Zhijiang County, to the west, lies a winding plain several miles wide. After about ten miles, you'll arrive at Zhu Ping Pu. From the road, amidst the flat land, a towering mountain rises, covering an area of several square miles. This is the Wild Chicken Hermitage.

In the 1970s, Zhijiang School established an agricultural farm at the Wild Chicken Hermitage as part of the education initiative aimed at engaging with factories, rural areas, military, and society. The agricultural farm was managed by two agricultural teachers. One was Mr. Wu Xianguo, around fifty years old, and the other was Ms. Li Mingru, around forty years old. They cultivated medicinal herbs, corn, buckwheat, sweet potatoes, soybeans, green beans, wheat, and more on the mountain. Students took turns going up the mountain to learn agriculture, with each class spending a week at a time. They brought their own clothes and bedding, stayed at the agricultural base, and participated in various farming activities.

Living in the city for a long time, breathing fresh air far from the hustle and bustle, and stretching their muscles and bones was a refreshing experience for the students. Parents were also pleased to see their children undergo physical labor, connect with nature, and learn agricultural skills.

After walking along the road from the county to the Wild Chicken Hermitage for about ten miles, you can see the Hermitage. Leaving the road and entering the mountainous area, the ascent begins. It takes about an hour from the foot of the mountain to the top, with the slope gradually becoming steeper. The mountain is covered with lush greenery, and when the mountain wind blows, the green waves roll, creating a magnificent sight. The mountaintop is surrounded by clouds and mist year-round, with white clouds drifting slowly from the mountainside below. Wild chickens often fly overhead, making cackling sounds, hence the name Wild Chicken Hermitage. In the summer, the air is fresh, the temperature a few degrees cooler than at the foot of the mountain, making it pleasantly cool.

As you climb the steepest slope of the Wild Chicken Hermitage and enter a gently sloping path covered by half-concealed thatched grass, you can see, from a distance of about a mile, on a slope more than two hundred meters from the mountaintop, a large area of cultivated land covered with lush crops. Below the slope are several wooden houses, with smoke curling up, marking the location of the agricultural base.

Every time students approached within two hundred meters of the agricultural base, a white dog would dash out of the house like lightning and run towards them, barking intermittently. As it approached the students, it would vigorously wag its tail, its front legs leaving the ground as it jumped towards the students' chests, as if it had just reunited with a long-lost master or friend, affectionate and kissing. The girls had never seen such a scene and often recoiled in fear. But the boys immediately fell in love with this friendly dog. This was Bai Zi, the dog that served as the guardian of the Wild Chicken Hermitage agricultural base.

Bai Zi was a dog purchased from a nearby village two or three years ago and had grown up at the agricultural base. It was a common local breed of shepherd dog, of medium size. Its pointed ears were always erect, its coat pure white without any speck of color, hence the name Bai Zi. Although born in the countryside, never having been to the city, let alone to a school in the city, Bai Zi was keenly aware that it was a member of the agricultural base and not like the dogs in the surrounding farmers' houses. For those students or teachers who had never seen it before, on their first visit, it instinctively knew they were its family and would go to greet them from afar, affectionate and warm. As for the nearby farmers who passed by the agricultural base every day, it barked and chased them every day, never treating them as neighbors. It was truly loyal and discerning, a faithful guardian dog.

Because of its friendly nature and unconditional friendliness towards students and teachers, Bai Zi was deeply loved by everyone at the agricultural base. When students saw it, they would warmly pat its head and stroke its fur. It would wag its tail and be extremely affectionate, often jumping on students and showing its joy. After finishing work and eating dinner, students would often shout, "Bai Zi, come, play with us," and Bai Zi would immediately run to them. Often seen in the twilight, students and Bai Zi chased each other in the cornfields, bamboo groves, and grasslands on the mountain, their joyful shouts and barking echoing on the mountaintop of the Wild Chicken Hermitage.

Bai Zi would also often visit the student dormitories for a visit, its greedy cat-like eyes always watching, until you couldn't help but bring out the snacks you brought from the city to feed it. At that time, there was no television, and there were no movies on the mountaintop. Even condiments like soy sauce, vinegar, salt, and matches had to be bought from the small shop downhill, a two-hour round trip. Apart from reading the books brought with them, playing with Bai Zi was the best entertainment on the mountaintop of the Wild Chicken Hermitage, and Bai Zi also enjoyed playing with these city students. Bai Zi became the best playmate for the students.

The agricultural base was manned by Li Mingru and Wu Xianguo, who had been stationed there year-round. They raised Bai Zi from a young age, so it listened most to their commands. Whether it was chasing and biting the neighboring farmers or running around with the students, as long as they called out, "Bai Zi, come back!" it would obediently return, although sometimes it would grumble as if not having enough fun.

Because some people would hunt and kill stray dogs for food, and even dogs that ran away from home were often lured and captured. Fearing Bai Zi might meet with misfortune, the two teachers never took Bai Zi into the city. Sometimes when Bai Zi followed Li Mingru back to the city, with Wu Xianguo following behind, as soon as the teacher said, "Bai Zi, go back!" although reluctant, it would obediently stop and slowly turn back. So although Bai Zi had been at the agricultural base for two or three years, it had never been to the schools in the county town.

At some point, some students who liked Bai Zi, on their way back to the city, either intentionally called Bai Zi or watched Bai Zi follow, unable to bear calling it back. Thus, Bai Zi came to the schools in the city with the students. Except for new students, all the students had learned farming and knew Bai Zi, and they all liked Bai Zi. As soon as Bai Zi arrived at the school, there would be countless students surrounding it, patting it, and calling its name. Bai Zi was like a grandmother entering the Grand View Garden, looking around excitedly. Seeing so many students who liked it, its tail wagged incessantly, licking one student's hand, smelling another student's foot, or pouncing on another student's chest

. Wherever Bai Zi went, there would be a large group of students following. And the news of "Bai Zi is here" quickly spread throughout the school, and everyone rushed to see Bai Zi. Bai Zi, who had never seen such a scene in the countryside, became even more spirited, strutting around like a leader on inspection, quite proud.

Bai Zi was surrounded by people calling out to it, making a circuit around the campus, with everyone who needed to "inspect" it doing so. Someone remembered that Bai Zi must be hungry, so they took Bai Zi to the cafeteria. The school cafeteria was operated for single male teachers, teachers from out of town, boarding students, and occasional teachers who needed to eat at school. There were about two hundred people eating, with three or four master chefs. Although the master chefs had never seen Bai Zi, they had long heard of this beloved "star" of the entire school. Not daring to be negligent, they immediately filled a bowl with pork bones, leftover meat, and leftover rice and vegetables for Bai Zi. Bai Zi was hungry too, so it indulged in a hearty meal without hesitation. Compared to the Wild Chicken Hermitage, this was almost like a feast. From then on, Bai Zi knew the way to the cafeteria, and whenever it was hungry, it would go to the cafeteria by itself. The master chefs would always give it bones to eat, sometimes even meat. This was something Bai Zi rarely got to eat at the Wild Chicken Hermitage.

The two teachers found out that Bai Zi had unexpectedly come to the school and quickly took Bai Zi back to the agricultural base. Bai Zi stayed there obediently for a while. When the next wave of students came and left, Bai Zi followed the students back to the school for a glorious return before being taken back by the teachers.

The two teachers were also busy and sometimes couldn't make it back to the school in time to bring Bai Zi back to the agricultural base. Bai Zi had seen the world and knew that there were more students who liked it in the city and there were bones in the cafeteria. The old folks said, "Dogs in the city can gnaw on bones a few more times." So "people go up, dogs go to the city." The city was Bai Zi's paradise.

Once a dog has walked a route, it remembers it. Bai Zi knew how to walk from the Wild Chicken Hermitage to the school. When there were no students around, whether out of longing for the students or the desire for the bones in the cafeteria, if the teachers weren't there, it would often run to the school by itself. Accepting the students' welcome, enjoying the delicious food. After a few days of playing, it would return to the agricultural base by itself.

The teachers and students gradually became accustomed to Bai Zi's comings and goings. After a while, when the students saw Bai Zi arrive and play with everyone, and then after a few days, when it disappeared again, everyone knew: it must have gone back to the Wild Chicken Hermitage. Bai Zi came and went along the road from the Wild Chicken Hermitage to the city, coming and going, going and coming. Sometimes with the students, sometimes alone.

The students of the agricultural base came and went, went and came. Thus, two years passed peacefully.

That summer, the students at the school realized that they hadn't seen Bai Zi for a long time. They thought Bai Zi was guarding the agricultural base at the Wild Chicken Hermitage, while the two teachers at the agricultural base thought it was at the school. Until one day, the teachers from the agricultural base came to the school and didn't see Bai Zi. Upon asking, they found out that Bai Zi hadn't been seen for a long time. And the two teachers hadn't seen Bai Zi at the agricultural base for a long time either. Now everyone felt something was wrong and began searching for Bai Zi.

A week passed, and there was no news of Bai Zi. A month passed, and there was still no news of it. Half a year passed, and some students searched all over the county town, searched through the thickets of the Wild Chicken Hermitage, and searched through the villages and towns along the road from the county town to the Wild Chicken Hermitage for more than ten miles, but still they couldn't find any trace of it. An ominous feeling hung over everyone's hearts: Bai Zi might have met with foul play.

Bai Zi disappeared without a trace. The mountaintop of the Wild Chicken Hermitage was still shrouded in white clouds, students still came and went, went and came, only there was no Bai Zi running from afar to greet them.