Chapter 44: The Landowner’s Utopia

The flower bud before him emitted a faint, eerie glow, resonating with the Scarlet Sky Sword. The cacophony of the world slowly faded away, replaced by a profound silence.

Luo Gan gazed intently at the blossom, reaching out to touch it. A searing pain radiated from his fingertips, but with a grimace contorting his face, he forced his hand onto the flower.

The instant he made contact, the world blazed with light, and everything changed once more...

Several grand pavilions stood connected in a row, their immense bracket sets supporting ornate rooftops. The door pillars were intricately carved with dragons, tigers, birds, and beasts—countless strange and marvelous forms. Unlike ordinary doors and windows, these bore golden trims and bright vermilion panels, clashing fiercely in color. The pillars were made from fragrant agarwood and nanmu, their mingled scents entwined with the metallic tang of coins, creating a bizarre symphony—like a gaudily dressed, jewel-laden matron parading her wealth before the world.

Luxury abounded here, but there was little true taste; everywhere, a jarring sense of disharmony prevailed.

Luo Gan mused to himself in wonder: was it real or illusion, this world deep within the Sea of Red Flowers? He started toward the buildings, his mind drifting into emptiness.

A shout echoed from inside—a coarse, powerful voice, strangely familiar to Luo Gan, who instinctively quickened his pace.

A wall barred his way, but peering through the lattice window, he saw light within.

How odd, lamps burning in broad daylight?

Tearing a hole in the paper window, Luo Gan glimpsed a burly man dressed as a landowner, his chest bare and arms exposed, as if no amount of clothing could cover him. He lorded over a trembling servant, who knelt to polish his boots, only to be kicked aside and dismissed with a wave.

The servant kept apologizing, but the landowner waved him off, sending him scurrying outside. Luo Gan slipped along to another window and saw the servant join hundreds of others laboring in vast spinach fields, the green leaves stretching out like a verdant sea over the hills.

Inside, the landowner cleared his throat with a thunderous sound that resonated through the whole house, so loud Luo Gan had to cover his ears even outside; meanwhile, the servants whispered among themselves as they toiled.

“If not for the master’s generosity, where would we find a meal? You’re too careless with your work! How can we let the master tire himself?”

The reprimanded servant showed no trace of anger, only bowing and apologizing repeatedly.

From the far side of the gallery, several plump young ladies approached, each fair-skinned and beautiful, clad in identical golden robes. Luo Gan looked closely and, to his astonishment, saw that the last in line was Ah Yu, Er Hu’s wife—dusty-faced and plainly dressed, indistinguishable from a servant.

The young ladies proceeded into the inner hall and stood in a row before the landowner.

“Master Hu, your humble sisters greet you,” the leading girl purred, bowing coquettishly.

The landowner rose, strode to her, lifted her chin as one might tease a pet—and in that instant, Luo Gan recognized him: the landowner was Er Hu!

What was happening? How could Er Hu be the landowner? Wait—what was it he was supposed to do? Luo Gan felt his memories slipping away; he could no longer recall why he’d come here, nor why he crouched so furtively by the window.

Er Hu brazenly pulled the leading girl into his arms, embracing and kissing her with utter disregard for the others, who, oddly enough, watched with eager anticipation, as if hoping for his favor.

Er Hu reveled with the women, dancing wildly, while only Ah Yu stood forlorn and crestfallen.

Luo Gan shook his head in disbelief, feeling a pang of sympathy for Ah Yu.

But then he thought: his brother was living like a god—why was he hiding here at all? He stood abruptly, the window creaked, and those inside were startled.

Er Hu shouted, “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

Luo Gan calmly opened the window. The moment Er Hu saw him, he dropped the girl he was holding, heedless as she fell.

Er Hu spread his arms wide in welcome. “Isn’t this my dear brother! What took you so long?”

By now Luo Gan had completely forgotten his purpose. He vaulted the window, embracing Er Hu, who suddenly remembered something.

“Ah Luo, wait a moment, have a seat.” Er Hu clapped his hands, and several servants hurried in. With a few brief commands, the servants withdrew, soon returning with an array of desserts laid out before Luo Gan.

There was delicate frozen flower cake, glutinous rice “flower dumplings,” rainbow cakes of many colors, and steaming mutton soup; every dish was united by one feature—they were enormous.

Bowls crowded the table. Er Hu, brimming with gusto, ate the mutton soup without waiting for a spoon, scooping it up with his hands, snuffling like a pig rooting for cabbage. His greasy hands snatched up a snow-white dumpling and stuffed it into his gaping maw, devouring everything in sight.

“Ah Luo, don’t just sit there, eat!” Er Hu urged, handing Luo Gan a rainbow cake with his oily fingers. Luo Gan felt a surge of nausea and declined, but Er Hu, oblivious, simply tossed the cake in front of him and went on eating.

Hunger gnawed at Luo Gan’s belly. He forced himself to take a fresh piece of frozen flower cake. The moment it touched his tongue, a rush of creamy fragrance filled his mouth, its bright, refreshing taste a delight. The contrast between the warm filling and the icy crust brought a sensation of unrivaled ecstasy, like flying naked among the clouds.

Luo Gan kept eating, bite after bite, faster and faster, soon no different from Er Hu, greedily shoveling everything into his mouth.

After their feast, the two slumped in their chairs, grinning at each other.

“Brother, how did you come by all this?” Luo Gan asked.

Er Hu looked puzzled, as if he’d forgotten. “I don’t know. Eat, drink, be happy—that’s all that matters! Why worry? It’s just a burden.”

Crumbs still at the corner of his mouth, Luo Gan wiped his face with the back of his hand, feeling utterly content. “Life should be lived in indulgence.”

“Hasn’t it always been this way? Ha! Ever since I can remember, it’s been about enjoyment—what else is there?” Er Hu laughed.

The sun blazed outside. Er Hu took Luo Gan by the hand and led him out for a stroll. As they passed Ah Yu, Luo Gan caught a glimpse of her bitter face, but felt no sympathy anymore.

Together, the two strolled outdoors, each donning a straw hat, watching the laborers toil in the fields. Er Hu posed as a man of importance, gesturing grandly over the land.

“My demands are simple,” Er Hu said. “Let them work hard, feed the whole family—that’s enough. I don’t need the whole world to be my farmland. What I have suffices.”

Saying this, Er Hu threw an arm around Luo Gan’s shoulders and laughed heartily. Luo Gan found himself envious. From their vantage point, countless common folk bustled below, all suffering, while Er Hu’s estate stood alone as a paradise—one man’s utopia, where even the servants lived in peace.

To have such a life—Luo Gan felt genuinely happy for Er Hu.

At the foot of the mountain, women in blue gauze and conical hats walked back and forth along the road, while officials on horseback, as if lost, kept riding off the cliffs, one after another. The passersby moved like clockwork puppets, following the same routes, living and dying in endless repetition.