Secret Recipe | Chapter 231 | Shadows of the East Pavilion | Novela.app

Within a mere two months, the price of wine at Xiaofuju had risen and fallen, then fallen and risen again. The initial rise was due to the First Villa under Heaven holding its Sword Appreciation Assembly, where they served Xiaofuju’s Dalu Brew. Furthermore, rumors swirled that even the Emperor’s Great Sacrifice had utilized their Seven-Blend Sacrificial Wine. Many in the city followed the trend, causing the price of wine to soar accordingly. However, it wasn't long before news arrived that the capital's sacrificial ceremony had been aborted, allegedly because of an issue with the wine. Where did that wine come from? Was it not the Seven-Blend Sacrificial Wine from Jiugao City? This was a disaster. Those who had bought the wine grew anxious, while those who hadn't gloated, and the price plummeted once more. As the days passed, despite the fluctuating prices, the owner of Xiaofuju remained as steady as a mountain, carrying on as usual. Even the broken brick used as a footstool before the door hadn't moved half an inch, and no officials from the capital arrived to demand accountability. Consequently, rumors began to spread that Xiaofuju had a powerful benefactor—perhaps even a member of the imperial family—who could cover up any issues with the wine. Hearing this, the city folk grew restless again, striking up conversations with the owner under the guise of buying wine, and the price quietly climbed back up. If the price of wine was unstable, one could simply stop drinking; however, grain was a necessity. After the onset of autumn, though the heart-stopping heavy rains gradually thinned, the flooded waterways and clogged rivers and lakes could not be cleared overnight. Grain prices returned to the levels of early last year and refused to budge. Everyone lamented: this winter would likely be a hard one. When life is hard, one still needs entertainment. After the proprietor of Tingfeng Hall on Shouqi Street disappeared, a new storyteller soon appeared in the south of the city. Though the person had changed, the content remained the same—the same old, pedantic tales. "The historical records chronicle ten thousand mountains, rivers, and seas, and within those ten thousand landscapes lie countless worlds of the martial forest. Among these countless worlds, the most peculiar is the martial forest of Jiugao City in Longshu County..." Before the young storyteller could finish his opening lines, he was interrupted by a spectator spitting out melon seed shells. "The martial forest here has no flashes of blades or shadows of swords, no legends of heroic valor, no struggles for hegemony, and no epic chronicles of rising storms." As soon as one person finished, another beside him continued with a grin. "When the canals flourished, when salt and iron prospered, and when gold was everywhere, Jiugao did not gain a gilded edge. When dynasties changed, when wars were continuous, and when the world was precarious, Jiugao did not see the smoke of battle for a hundred years." The storyteller adjusted his pre-glued, now-crooked fake beard and weakly voiced his suspicion. "Are... are you all from the rival street here to sabotage me?" The crowd erupted in laughter, growing bolder. "Your Quzhou accent is a bit thick; you should practice your tongue more." "Your voice isn't particularly pleasant either; find some time to train your pipes." "Your spit flies three yards; if we sit any closer, our teacups will be filled." The storyteller was clearly new to the trade. Flustered and indignant, he pointed a finger in accusation. "Tingfeng Hall has opened this way for years. You are just bullying a newcomer!" At the mention of "Tingfeng Hall," the rowdy tea-drinkers fell into a momentary silence. It was strange. They could tolerate the scruffy, greasy-collared Proprietor Tang speaking about the Chuanliu Courtyard incident, but they couldn't stand anyone else finishing the opening lines. The crowd shook their heads and began to leave, this time not even bothering to hurl insults. "I still have the secret behind Xiaofuju’s wine, and two or three ghost stories from Official Fan’s manor in the north of the city... does anyone want to hear..." In a desperate bid to retain his audience, the storyteller was willing to risk offending Official Fan. Yet, even so, the teahouse emptied, and no one even warned him to watch his tongue. *Clang.* A piece of silver fell into the tray, followed by a gentle, refined voice. "Well said." The storyteller looked up blankly to see a young man dressed as a scholar standing below the stage, followed by a somewhat dazed page. The two looked like travelers who had stopped in to listen; perhaps because they were outsiders, they found the performance novel. The storyteller was young and ambitious. Though he craved the silver, he maintained his pride and turned away. "I thank the guest for the reward. However, I was interrupted before I could truly perform. I cannot accept such kindness; if word got out, people would say I received a reward without merit." The other man nodded and offered a reasonable suggestion. "In that case, why not finish the last story you mentioned?" The storyteller had spoken recklessly in the heat of the moment. Now that he had regained his senses, he hesitated. But the silver was truly bright. After a moment of internal struggle, he leaned in and whispered. "I tell you, this came from the new night watchman in the north of the city. They call it a ghost story, but there are traces to follow. It all starts with that sinister case of the old Madam Su. That’s a long story, but in short, Official Fan caught a foul energy because he took on that case, and he fell ill a while ago. That illness is also hard to describe; I hear they’ve sought many physicians, but all are at their wits' end." "A long story" here, "hard to describe" there—the man contributed plenty of saliva but explained nothing clearly, leaving his listener utterly confused. No wonder the teahouse business was so dismal. Strangely, the traveling listener appeared focused, showing no sign of distraction. At the end, he clapped his hands. "Truly magnificent." However, the more he praised, the more the storyteller lost heart. He said listlessly, "The guest need not use such polite platitudes. I realize today that I am truly not cut out for this profession." "My praise always comes from the heart, it is no mere platitude. The opening you spoke seemed conventional, but it actually holds deep meaning. Because this place is tucked away in a corner, far from the capital, it is rarely remembered by outsiders, and even less likely to be watched over constantly. Because it sees no smoke of battle, its people are unfamiliar with matters of iron and blood. And because it lacks the 'great righteousness' of heroes, possessing only the clever survival skills of common folk, when faced with matters of life and death, they will choose self-preservation over a desperate, suicidal struggle. Is that not so?" The storyteller hadn't expected such a long speech. He felt every word rang true, yet he didn't understand why the man was saying this. Before he could think of a response, the scholar stood up with a light smile. "As for that Official Fan, it seems his luck has been poor lately, and he is in urgent need of someone to rescue him. May I ask, sir, which way to the Prefectural Governor’s manor?" "Official Fan’s manor? You want to go to Official Fan’s manor? That’s in the north of the city, quite a distance from here." The man nodded, composed. "No matter. I have plenty of time; I can walk there slowly." The storyteller remained dazed. After he finished giving directions with words and gestures, the two had already bid farewell and departed. He snapped back to his senses and quickly grabbed the piece of silver from the tray. The silver was strange, looking as if it had been pinched flat by someone's fingers. "Guest! Guest, you gave too much silver! Let me tell you another tale..." His shouts dissipated into the bustling street. The figures of the scholar and his page vanished into the crowd, their tracks impossible to find. ****** ****** ****** After fumbling through the narrow, dark tunnels for nearly an hour, Qin Jiuye finally felt a breeze. Years ago, after Li Qingdao and Li Qiao escaped the villa, Young Master Yan had led men to seal this coal transport passage. However, this was originally a complex network of intersecting caves within the mountain. As long as one found the right general direction and possessed a bit of a death-defying spirit, one could eventually find their way to the valley where the First Villa under Heaven was located. The final piece of rubble was pushed aside, and the long-awaited wind blew against their faces. Qin Jiuye poked her head out, only to find that the exit was on a cliff face with almost nowhere to stand. To the west, two vertical stone walls converged and narrowed, resembling two giant swords thrust into the heavens. Between the "blades" lay a long, narrow valley—the entrance to Changui Valley. The First Villa under Heaven had stood in the martial forest for many years, yet few sects were willing to visit. It wasn't because the path was treacherous or because no one knew the way, but because everyone instinctively felt that entering the villa was like a sheep entering a tiger's den. Whether it was the bone lantern swaying in the mountains or the entrance that now looked like the gates of hell, it gave off an invisible sense of lethal oppression. The rubble fell into the mist-shrouded valley floor without making a sound. In the distance, the westering sun was about to sink below the ridges. Below them was a bottomless destination. Qin Jiuye took a deep breath and whispered. "The Bureau of Gold and Stone will move soon. We must hurry." Going down was easy, but coming up would be difficult—and if there were pursuers behind them, it would be even harder. Everyone knew this was a path of no return. According to Li Qiao, he and Li Qingdao had entered the secret passage shortly after repelling Li Kuquan. If they hadn't lost their way, their current position should be near Changui Valley, and the Dongzhu Pavilion within the valley was their most important destination. However, after the group cautiously descended to the valley floor, they found the surroundings deathly quiet. No one was visible in the narrow valley; everyone seemed to have vanished. A suffocating silence enveloped them. The sound of their breathing echoed between the mist and the stone walls. Qin Jiuye finally couldn't help but murmur, "Where is everyone? Or is Changui Valley always this quiet?" "I don't know, but it's best to be careful." Jiang Xin'er drew her blade, lightened her steps, and led the way deeper into the valley. Teng Hu followed closely behind. Qin Jiuye continued to move forward, borrowing "the fox's prestige," while Li Qiao brought up the rear. The sky grew darker. The setting sun cast an ominous red glow behind them. The narrow, intestine-like valley reached its end, and their vision suddenly opened up to a vast space filled with jagged rocks, withered trees, and exotic, strange flora. Outside the cliffs, the valley was humid year-round and filled with giant trees. Yet, at the bottom of the cliffs, the valley floor was prone to alternating droughts and floods, and life was scarce. Qin Jiuye had seen similar descriptions in the geographical records of herb-gatherers; such enclosed terrain often formed strange and harsh microclimates. There were almost no spring or autumn seasons; from April, it entered the sweltering, humid plum rains, and after September, it was a long, dry winter. There was no rain or snow in winter; everything became cold and hard, and the green deepened into a blackish hue that spread through the depths of the valley. Centuries of withered trees piled up here, covered in vigorously growing strange plants. Yet, amidst this lush vegetation, not a single bird's song or insect's chirp could be heard. The energies of death and rebirth converged and collided here, making the entire Changui Valley look like a ruin reborn, appearing remote and eerie under the twilight. *Once there was a place where there were only two seasons, summer and winter, yet there was a laurel tree that bloomed year-round...* A fragmented memory surfaced from the depths of her mind. Qin Jiuye paused before remembering that it seemed to be a story she had heard Li Qiao mumble on the night she got drunk at Tingfeng Hall. He had lived in such a place for over ten years, never seeing spring flowers on the branches, never hearing summer cicadas in the trees, never seeing the clear starry sky of an autumn night, and never feeling the fleeting chill of winter snow falling on his clothes. "Even without the legend of Liuren Slope, this Changui Valley is indeed a treasure trove for nurturing rare flowers and exotic herbs. Once I retrieve my master's belongings, I must explore this place thoroughly." Teng Hu's voice rang out from ahead, his curiosity clearly piqued as his fox-like eyes darted around incessantly. "Did your master truly never come here?" As they drew closer to the heart of the First Villa under Heaven, the doubts in Qin Jiuye's heart deepened. "He traveled to the far north and the deep south in search of the world's rarest poisons and herbs, so why did he never visit the domain of his old acquaintance from the Black Moon?" Teng Hu’s lips curled into a cold sneer as he said bluntly, "Master was merely ignorant of worldly affairs, not stupid. He wasn't like Li Qingdao, who wandered around only to deliver himself to their doorstep." So it wasn't that he didn't want to come, but that he feared he wouldn't be able to leave once he did. "Call cowardice what it is. If he were truly that clever, he shouldn't have sent that letter to Di Mo in the first place." Li Qiao's voice rang out indifferently. Qin Jiuye felt she could almost see the hairs on the back of Teng Hu's neck stand up. Now was not the time for bickering. Before she could intervene, Jiang Xin'er turned back fiercely. "If you want to live, shut up." The world fell silent again. Simultaneously, the last ray of sunset vanished behind them, and the entire valley was instantly swallowed by an impenetrable blackness. In the darkness, one's sense of smell and hearing became more acute. Qin Jiuye sniffed the air, suddenly noticing a strange scent—faintly fishy and bitter... The next moment, two rows of lanterns flickered to life in the darkness, delineating a winding ancient path paved with stone bricks, about a dozen paces wide. The withered trees and strange flowers receded into the shadows. The light came from lamp-slaves lined up neatly along the path. These lamp-slaves were life-sized; though their features were blurred, they possessed a terrifying realism, as if they had only lit the oil lamps in their hands upon hearing the visitors' footsteps. At the end of the light, the dark silhouette of a tall pavilion was faintly visible. At the very top of the towering structure, a pyramidal roof was capped with a rounded jewel finial, facing the direction of the rising sun. The sun rises in the east, the moon in the west. Li Qiao withdrew his gaze and said solemnly, "The Dongzhu Pavilion is ahead." Jiang Xin'er and Li Qiao were both experts. Even if Di Mo had placed an ambush here, it was unlikely that every guard possessed the internal power of a grandmaster; they should have heard the sounds of breathing. Yet it was too quiet here. Aside from the wind blowing through the valley, there wasn't the slightest breath of a living person. However, not being seen did not mean they did not exist. Whether marching or sneaking, being exposed in an open area was never a good choice, especially when the surroundings were pitch black and silent while the stone path was brightly lit. The moment they stepped onto it, they would be in the light while the enemy remained in the dark. This feeling was far more unsettling than facing an enemy directly, as if the master of this place had already set a trap, waiting for them to fly into it like moths to a flame. The shifting clouds moved rapidly above them, the moonlight appearing and disappearing, the firelight flickering, and their shadows becoming distinct or blurred accordingly—just as elusive as the unseen dangers. The Dongzhu Pavilion and the shadow it cast loomed over them. The closer they got, the more they felt an ominous aura. Strangely, although it was called a "pavilion," there were no overhanging balconies on the exterior. It was surrounded by tall lattice windows and had a horizontal structure that reminded one of a Buddhist hall or an ancient pagoda. In the center was a pair of floor-to-ceiling lattice doors. As the wind blew from the deep valley, the doors seemed to gain a soul like the lamp-slaves; sensing the arrival of uninvited guests, they creaked open to reveal a sliver of a gap. This scene was like the opening of a ghost story. If the protagonists had any sense, they would turn and leave immediately. But for the four people standing before the Dongzhu Pavilion, there was no possibility of retreat. From the moment they entered the First Villa under Heaven, they seemingly had countless chances to turn back, but in reality, they had no other choice. Ultimately, they were willing participants in this game. The person who set this trap clearly understood this and was likely hiding in the darkness right now, quietly savoring their trepidation and unease. Hesitation would yield no results. Teng Hu silently put on his gloves, pushed open the massive lattice doors, and was the first to step inside. The pavilion was designed to catch the wind from all sides, yet once inside, they discovered that both the lattice windows and the doors they had just passed through were completely sealed. The paper on the windows seemed to be coated with a thick layer of tung oil, making the air inside stagnant and stifling. Furthermore, there were no lighting fixtures on the walls—even the niches and pedestals for lamps were missing. Only the light from the lamp-slaves outside faintly filtered through the lattice windows. The slender wooden slats broke the light into fragments that dissipated completely after a few steps into the darkness. After a preliminary search to ensure there was no immediate movement, Jiang Xin'er lit a fire-starter. The flame flared, flashing across the wall in front of them. Vividly colored murals suddenly burst into view from the darkness. Giant lotuses bloomed in crowded, overlapping patterns across the wall. Beneath the crimson petals were slender, dense green stems and vines. The craftsmen had depicted these beautiful flowers with a manic intensity, outlining every tangled vein and every curved, hooked thorn with meticulous detail. These giant red lotuses not only brought to mind the bizarre flora in the valley, but their sudden appearance here, in this enclosed and oppressive space, added a touch of demonic eeriness rather than beauty. Qin Jiuye swallowed hard and cautiously approached the painted wall. From the outside, the pavilion had looked much larger than the space they had explored; the core of the Dongzhu Pavilion must lie behind these painted walls. "This should only be the outer layer. We need to find the way into the center." Secret doors should be hidden within these walls. The group began to feel their way along the circular corridor. The intense colors were dizzying. For a moment, Qin Jiuye felt she was almost losing herself in the sea of red and green. Even more bizarrely, when they turned back toward the direction they had come from, they could no longer find the lattice doors they had entered through. In their place were endless lattice windows. The dim light filtering through the narrow slats made everyone feel as though they could no longer see the path ahead clearly. "Aren't you two veterans of this place? How can you still get lost?" Teng Hu’s voice came in a nagging mutter, tinged with dissatisfaction. Li Qiao said nothing, but Jiang Xin'er replied. "The Dongzhu Pavilion is not a place for villa disciples to enter and study. Our techniques were personally selected and granted to us by the Villa Master." Qin Jiuye couldn't help but click her tongue. That old man Di Mo was truly stingy, guarding such a massive "martial arts library" while placing so many restrictions on his subordinates. But on second thought, she understood his motive. The villa disciples were, in the end, just tools; he didn't need or want them to truly master these arts. The Dongzhu Pavilion stored the secret manuals and techniques Di Mo had plundered from the world's martial arts families. Whenever a camp produced an outstanding talent, Di Mo would personally receive them in Changui Valley and select a suitable martial path for them. But because the "masters" who truly understood these styles were dead, the "disciples" who learned the techniques often only grasped the form without the spirit, making them no match for the original practitioners. This explained some previous confusions—such as why Xin Yu’s technique was not as delicate as the true Ciyi Needle, why the dance of the girls in the Immortal Hiding Cave on Qionghu Island lacked the divine charm of the true Heavenly Garment movement, and why Li Kuquan could hold the villa for so many years single-handedly. Even a martial genius like Li Qiao could never have escaped the villa's control on his own without meeting Li Qingdao. "Had I known, I would have come alone." Teng Hu spoke coldly, his impatience written all over his face. Qin Jiuye couldn't stand his arrogant attitude and questioned him. "You were the one who said we should scout the Dongzhu Pavilion first. But how do you know Di Mo actually hid the things here? This place is so large; who knows how long it will take to find them." Teng Hu glanced at her sideways. The firelight illuminated his face from an angle, making him look like a sinister deity in a ghost temple. "My master was a fastidious man. He preferred to use his own homemade Aloeswood Ink, and for important items, he always used Ghost Pepper Paper for preservation. This paper is infused with the toxin of ghost peppers, making it moisture-proof and pest-resistant. Ordinary insects wouldn't dare approach it, except for..." Before he could finish his dramatic pause, Qin Jiuye had already seen through his routine and urged, "Stop being so long-winded. What else are you raising? Let it out quickly." Teng Hu finally shut his mouth. With a flick of his sleeves, a tiny, frail insect flew out. The insect had a glowing spot on its rear. Seeming to find the air chilly, it shivered in place for a moment before flying toward the depths of the darkness. Teng Hu looked pleased and quickly followed. Jiang Xin'er followed close behind. As Qin Jiuye was about to move, she suddenly caught a faint scent, and her footsteps stopped involuntarily. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but the dry air of Changui Valley seemed to have been diluted upon entering the Dongzhu Pavilion, replaced by a faint moisture. There was a slight dampness in the air, mixed with a scent of decay—a smell she had encountered before in Madam Feng’s bookstore. Now, it was coming from the base of the wall painted with red lotuses. She leaned in closer to the wall to examine it, then, thinking of something, she crouched down. Sure enough, she found water stains at the seam where the wall met the floor tiles, looking as if rain had just fallen. But wasn't this indoors? How could it rain? Qin Jiuye’s premonition deepened. She moved a few steps along the water stains and eventually found a gap at the base of the wall, less than a finger wide. "What did Sister find?" Li Qiao's voice sounded behind her, carrying a reassuring strength. Qin Jiuye turned and saw that his expression was tense, looking even more alert and grim than when they were crossing the valley floor. Recalling what she had seen and heard on Qionghu Island, Qin Jiuye guessed that the red lotuses on the wall were likely not a pleasant memory for Li Qiao. She instinctively stood up and blocked him. "What is it? Is something wrong?" No, he didn't feel anything wrong. But he still felt an indescribable unease. Even though he saw nothing unusual, heard no sound, and smelled no scent, he felt as if there was an unignorable presence somewhere in the void. The youth shook his head slightly, not wanting to worry her. "It's nothing. But the situation here is unclear; it's best not to separate." Qin Jiuye nodded. Just as she was about to take a few quick steps to catch up with their companions, a soft click came from beneath her foot, and she suddenly sank. She was startled, but the youth had already instantly pulled her back. The two looked closely and saw that the floor tile she had been standing on had sunk about three inches, and a row of pitch-black holes had appeared at the damp base of the wall. Qin Jiuye stared into that darkness, her heart racing uncontrollably, as if she expected a monster's tentacles to reach out and drag her in at any moment. *Patter, patter.* A faint sound came from deep within the hole, growing closer. The next moment, a small shadow appeared at the opening, about the size of a fingernail, its body reflecting a shiny luster. Qin Jiuye squinted and realized it was a small frog. The previous fear vanished, replaced by a sense of absurdity. But the presence of a frog here meant there was indeed another space behind the wall—perhaps a secret passage into the depths of the Dongzhu Pavilion. Qin Jiuye bent down, her thoughts entirely on how to scout the path. She didn't notice the youth's stiff expression and his backward step. Her shadow flickered with her movement, and the little frog seemed startled. It turned and hopped away, its form instantly vanishing into the crack in the wall. She instinctively chased after it, but unexpectedly, the sunken stone tile reset at that moment. A heavy, mechanical sound echoed from within the wall she was facing. The giant red lotus split open, and the suddenly appearing secret door was like the maw of an abyss, swallowing the woman's figure in an instant. With a thunderous boom, the wall closed again, leaving no trace that it had ever been open. The youth, snapping out of his daze, was half a step too late. He struck the wall with his palm, the skin between his thumb and forefinger splitting instantly. Blood flowed down his wrist, but he was oblivious to it, desperately pounding on the wall. "Sister! Sister..." The airtight wall blocked all sound. Aside from his own shouts, he could hear nothing else. His eyes turned red with desperation. The Qingwu Blade left deep gashes on the bronze and iron-reinforced door, but he could not budge it an inch. Teng Hu and Jiang Xin'er rushed over from the other side, their faces filled with shock. Before they could ask what had happened, a piercing sound echoed rhythmically through the empty corridor. *Clank, clank.* It was the sound of an iron chain dragging on the ground. The little insect that had been hovering indecisively and leading them in circles now seemed to have finally discovered something. It flew excitedly toward the figure in the darkness. The little light on its rear swayed and finally stopped, illuminating the face of an old man. A half-sheet of greenish Ghost Pepper Paper slipped from his robes, turning silently into dust before it even hit the ground. The insect landed on the old man's fingertip and stopped moving, wagging its rear toward its master as if claiming credit. Jiang Xin'er gripped her blade, her voice squeezed through gritted teeth. "This is the path you pointed out?" Teng Hu’s face was so grim it almost merged with the surrounding darkness. Though he was only obsessed with toxicology, he had been in the martial forest for over a decade and naturally knew the power of the person before him. He excelled in insidious poison arts, but against a top-tier martial artist, he would gain no advantage. But at this moment, he was not the most terrified person in this dark space. Li Qiao did not need to look up at the approaching figure to recognize the sound of his footsteps. The Master of the First Villa under Heaven loved the moon. This villa, coiled in the dark valley, saw no moonlight, yet every corner held the shadow of the moon. However, Changui Valley had no toads or laurels, only hidden lotus ponds and the evilly growing Fudi Lotuses. Guarding this place was not the legendary moon deity, the White Tiger, but the "tailed" Valley Guardian. From childhood to adulthood, the Valley Guardian of Changui Valley was the deepest shadow in the nightmares of every villa disciple. A long iron chain dragged behind him like a bloody tail; anyone who dared to challenge, intrude, or escape would suffer immensely. And now, that iron chain had been completely severed. The Valley Guardian had lost the restraint of his tail and transformed into a wandering ghost in this vast villa, destined to swallow every soul he encountered in the darkness. Sniffing the scent of fear in the air, Li Kuquan sighed softly. "Jia 13, we meet again." *** **Glossary** Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation --- | --- | --- 小福居 | Xiaofuju | A wine shop in Jiugao City. 大庐酿 | Dalu Brew | A type of wine from Xiaofuju. 七合鬯 | Seven-Blend Sacrificial Wine | A ceremonial wine used for imperial sacrifices. 听风堂 | Tingfeng Hall | A storytelling house in Jiugao City. 蟾桂谷 | Changui Valley | The valley where the First Villa under Heaven is located. 东祝阁 | Dongzhu Pavilion | A pavilion in the villa used to store stolen martial arts manuals. 李苦泉 | Li Kuquan | The "Valley Guardian" of the First Villa under Heaven. 福蒂莲 | Fudi Lotus | A strange, possibly toxic lotus species found in the valley. 鬼椒纸 | Ghost Pepper Paper | A special paper treated with toxins to prevent decay and pests. 守谷人 | Valley Guardian | The title of the person who guards Changui Valley.