Before he had even finished speaking, An Ping instantly retreated several feet.
“There’s no need to be so distant. I don’t eat children.” Mu Geshen spoke unhurriedly. “Have you ever watched a TV drama?”
The topic had changed so abruptly that An Ping didn’t react for a moment. “What are you talking about?”
“Fortune-tellers often have a line they like to use: ‘Heaven’s secrets must not be revealed.’ Some of the more elaborate ones explain it in greater detail, saying things like, ‘If you reveal Heaven’s secrets, you’ll be struck by lightning.’ Things along those lines. They all mean the same thing. The Mandate of Heaven must not be calculated recklessly, or disaster will inevitably befall you.”
“You’re afraid of that?” An Ping asked doubtfully. “Aren’t you supposed to be incredibly powerful?”
“Thank you for the compliment.” Mu Geshen looked helpless. “The Heavenly Divination lineage is indeed capable of extraordinary calculations. Apart from the exceptional talents possessed by each generation of Heavenly Divination Masters, they also rely on the power of the forty-nine Shan Gui Hua Qian coins. The Seven Houses of the Hundred Schools have one fundamental creed: any divination performed by the Heavenly Divination Master will never be wrong.”
“So?”
“Precisely because the results cannot be wrong, the greater the matter being divined, the more accurate the result, and the stronger the heavenly punishment the Heavenly Divination Master suffers.” Mu Geshen explained, “Most Heavenly Divination Masters meet unfortunate ends, which is why every generation takes on disciples at an early age. Take my master, for example. He had to look after three of us at such a young age, playing both father and mother…”
Seeing that this man was about to start rambling again, An Ping hurriedly steered the conversation back on track. “What does that have to do with the cause of your death?”
Mu Geshen took a sip of his goji berry tea and shrugged. “Back then, I calculated a divination that I shouldn’t have.”
“What divination?”
“I forgot.”
An Ping stared at him as if to say, Are you messing with me?
“May I be struck by lightning if I’m lying.” Mu Geshen said, “I was about eighteen or nineteen when I died. I slept for nearly a hundred years and only woke up a few years ago. When I woke up, I knew nothing about the world anymore, and I ended up repeating grades for three whole years. I’m serious. Math, physics, and chemistry are fucking difficult. If you showed those people from Penglai Newton’s three laws, I’m afraid the immortals would end up fighting Newton.”
“Your memory seems pretty good now. How could you forget something that important?”
“Back then, I calculated a divination I shouldn’t have, which brought down heavenly punishment upon me. My allotted lifespan was exhausted, and my soul could no longer enter the cycle of reincarnation. I should have met a fate in which both body and spirit were completely destroyed. But a friend helped seal my soul and nurture it inside my corpse for several decades. I eventually woke up, but quite a bit of my memory was damaged. After all, I’m old now. It’s only natural for my brain not to work as well as it used to.”
An Ping looked him up and down. “How much can you remember now?”
“Just some things from my younger days. Though, I didn’t exactly get the chance to grow old.” Mu Geshen burst out laughing. “It’s not a big deal. Having a bad memory doesn’t mean my brain is broken. I can recover my memories.”
“How?”
“When I died, the Shan Gui Hua Qian coins scattered everywhere. Based on our deductions, some of my memories may have been attached to those coins. If I find them, I can recover my memories.” Mu Geshen explained, “Most of my coins are missing. Otherwise, why do you think I play with coins every day, An Ping’er? Am I so poor that I’ve gone crazy? Well, to be fair, I really am pretty poor.”
“…All right.” An Ping reluctantly accepted reality. “One last question. Why do you call yourself a dead man? Didn’t you come back to life?”
“I do have consciousness, but my soul has already departed, and my body has already died. My soul doesn’t belong to the Three Realms, and my internal organs no longer function. The two barely coexist, so I’m neither fully alive nor fully dead.” Mu Geshen offered an analogy. “I’m a bit like a zombie, but I’m not as stupid or as vicious as one.”
An Ping was left speechless. He thought to himself that there was one more thing: even zombies weren’t as greedy for money as this guy.
“This is also why I fed you my blood back then. If I were the person I used to be, a mere Three Paths Realm would naturally have been no challenge at all. But now, I’m stuck in a corpse that’s on the verge of falling apart. I’m lucky if I don’t suffer from osteoporosis. One careless move, and I might lose an arm or break a leg. How could I possibly have the ability to look after everything at once?”
An Ping felt a little uncomfortable hearing this. “…You’ve had it rough.”
Mu Geshen waved his hand grandly. “Not at all, not at all. An Ping’er, just treat me to breakfast.”
…Wasn’t it agreed that you were treating me?
This was An Ping’s first time going to the cafeteria during class hours. Most of the breakfast had already been sold, leaving only half-cooled steamed buns and congee. Mu Geshen didn’t seem to mind. He took out a porcelain bottle, sprinkled some unknown seasoning into his food, and ate with great enjoyment.
An Ping picked up a steamed bun. After three bites, he still hadn’t reached the filling. Unable to resist, he said, “I remember you being pretty picky about food. You can actually eat this?”
“If conditions allow, then by all means, be particular. If they don’t, then make do.” Mu Geshen answered as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “After all, I was born in a time of chaos. I’ve seen corpses littering the land and tasted the food served in military camps. Naturally, I understand that every meal is hard-won.”
An Ping recalled Mu Geshen’s enthusiasm for pickled-cabbage instant noodles and thought that perhaps this man wasn’t all that difficult to please after all.
Then he remembered that pot of red date, onion, and koi fish soup, and decided that perhaps the issue wasn’t whether Mu Geshen was picky. Rather, there was probably something wrong with his sense of taste.
He looked at the porcelain bottle beside Mu Geshen. “What’s that?”
“Incense ash.” Mu Geshen held his spoon between his teeth. “A corpse can’t digest anything, but the dead can receive offerings. This incense ash is a specialty of Fengdu. Once you add it, things from the world of the living can be used by the deceased. I have to add some to everything I eat.”
An Ping immediately lost his appetite. He could only find another topic to discuss in an attempt to make the food go down.
“What exactly is Fengdu, the place you mentioned just now?”
“The underworld, the capital of the kingdom of ghosts. That territory falls under the jurisdiction of the Yin-Yang House.” Mu Geshen continued eating as he spoke. “The Seven Houses of the Hundred Schools are involved in matters concerning all Three Realms. The Immortal House of Penglai communicates with the heavens above, while the Wu family of the Yin-Yang House governs the underworld below. Haven’t you noticed that Third Brother—that is, Wu Zixu—is always going out? Half his time is spent busy underground.”
He has it so rough. Working through the night must be even more exhausting than senior year of high school, An Ping thought immediately.
“Can’t his family help him out?”
“The Wu family of the Yin-Yang House are born with half-underworld bodies, allowing them to travel freely between yin and yang in their living bodies. But everything comes at a price. Most members of the Wu family die young. By Third Brother’s generation, the family has become sparsely populated. Apart from distant relatives whose exact degree of kinship is anyone’s guess, he’s the only one left in the direct line of descent.”
“That miserable?”
“Don’t be in such a hurry.” Mu Geshen spoke unhurriedly. “After members of the Wu family die, they enjoy a special privilege. They can choose not to enter the cycle of reincarnation and instead settle permanently in Fengdu, continuing their lives in the underworld. Some even take up important positions in the netherworld government. Third Brother has a whole crowd of aunts, uncles, and other relatives underground. Every time he goes on a business trip, he takes the opportunity to visit them.”
“…No wonder he became the head of his house at such a young age.”
“The position of Impermanence Master carries enormous responsibilities, and only the living can hold it. His seventh aunt and eighth aunt couldn’t bear the burden either, so they hurried off to die and enjoy themselves down there.”
An Ping: “…”
“I’m full. Take your time, An Ping’er.” Mu Geshen put down his chopsticks. “Oh, right. You might find yourself sleeping more and having more dreams lately. It’s a normal phenomenon, so there’s no need to worry.”
“How long will this last?” An Ping thought to himself that he really didn’t want to get hit by a piece of chalk during class.
“A great dream, spanning years of warmth and hardship.” Mu Geshen smiled. “Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon.”
Mu Geshen was right. An Ping discovered that he really was becoming increasingly prone to sleep. After falling asleep during evening self-study for three days in a row, even his deskmate began making fun of him.
“Class Representative, are you pregnant or something?”
An Ping couldn’t be bothered to entertain him. Yawning, he packed his schoolbag and went home. He was too lazy even to eat dinner. His eyelids were so heavy that he could barely keep them open. After hastily washing up, he collapsed onto his bed once more.
By now, An Ping was already very familiar with the Ginkgo Study.
Most Heavenly Divination Masters throughout history had preferred to live freely and independently. However, the current master of the Ginkgo Study was an exception. He was proficient in the Six Arts and had mastered all Eight Elegances. He had established the study to teach the Dao and impart knowledge, and the townspeople all liked sending their children to the Ginkgo Study to learn.
The study believed in teaching everyone without discrimination. It held public lectures every week, which anyone seeking knowledge could attend. However, there were only two formal disciples who studied under the master himself: Song Wentong and Wu Zixu.
As for Mu Geshen, he had not entered the Ginkgo Study as a disciple. Instead, he had joined the Heavenly Divination lineage, which was why he addressed the master of the Ginkgo Study as “Master” rather than “先生” (Teacher).
There was also a senior disciple above him, who had already reached the age to venture into the world. He spent most of his time traveling and was rarely seen.
Chai Shuxin stood outside the Ginkgo Study, knocked on the door knocker, and held a medicine chest in his hand.
From the outside, the Ginkgo Study looked unremarkable, but its interior held a world of its own. The layout of its courtyard had been designed by the previous-generation Mohist Master, with pavilions, terraces, and towers arranged in a graceful, staggered pattern.
The advantage was its tranquility. Even when the students were reciting their lessons aloud during public lectures in the front courtyard, Mu Geshen could still sleep soundly in the back courtyard, oblivious to the world.
The disadvantage was that the place was so large and the paths so long that when visitors arrived at the entrance, they often had to wait the time it took for one incense stick to burn before anyone came to answer the door.
The person who opened the door was Wu Zixu. Upon seeing his visitor, he bowed with a smile.
“So it’s Brother Chai. Next time, just come straight in. We’re all fellow students here. There’s no need to stand on ceremony.”
After exchanging greetings, Chai Shuxin followed him into the courtyard and said in a gentle voice, “The Ginkgo Study is the residence of our teacher. He is our elder, and proper etiquette must not be neglected…”
“Fourth Brother! If I don’t chop you up today, I swear I’ll change my surname to our teacher’s!”
A furious roar suddenly erupted out of nowhere. Two figures flashed past at lightning speed. They were none other than Mu Geshen and Song Wentong. The latter was brandishing a kitchen knife with murderous intent and carrying a chicken whose rear end had already been stripped of its feathers.
“Catch your father first, if you’ve got what it takes!”
“You unfilial son! After all the shit and piss I cleaned up while raising you, this is how you repay me!”
The two swept away like a gust of wind. Their furious cursing was interspersed with sharp, shrill crowing, leaving a trail of chicken feathers scattered across the ground.
“Forgive us for letting you witness such a scene, Brother Chai. Fourth Brother slaughtered one of Second Brother’s chickens today because he said it was too noisy.” Wu Zixu smiled. “There was another one whose feathers had only been half-plucked when Second Brother discovered what was happening. The two of them immediately started fighting.”
Chai Shuxin stood expressionlessly, holding his medicine chest, and watched as Wu Zixu took an abacus out of his robes.
“What is the Impermanence Master doing?”
“I’m going to mediate their fight in a bit. First, I need to calculate this month’s accounts for the study.” Wu Zixu seemed thoroughly accustomed to such situations. “That way, I can avoid having to pay for the repairs when they tear the house apart again.”
The Master of the Ginkgo Study had been suffering from chronic illness for years, and Chai Shuxin’s monthly visits had long since become a regular occurrence. However, today, there was an additional person in the waterside pavilion.
A chessboard had been set up beside the water, and the Master of the Ginkgo Study was playing a game of chess with someone.
The young man holding the white pieces smiled and said, “Master, once this piece is placed, the outcome will be decided.”
“Indeed. After several years of traveling, your chess skills have improved once again.”
Chai Shuxin stepped forward and bowed. “Greetings, Teacher.” Then he turned slightly. “Brother Lin.”
An Ping suddenly understood. So this was Mu Geshen’s senior brother, the eldest disciple of the Heavenly Divination lineage, Lin Juansheng.
Dressed in a carefree blue-green robe, he had the elegance of an orchid and the grace of a jade tree. Looking at the young man before him, An Ping felt that if the Master of the Ginkgo Study were to exchange his white hair for black, rise to his feet again, and fill his sleeves with elegance and his heart with the ways of the mortal world, he would look just like Lin Juansheng did now.
Now this is what a master and disciple should look like, An Ping thought, feeling as refreshed as if a cool breeze had passed over him. They had been taught by the same master, yet the senior brother was so graceful and handsome. As for Mu Geshen, what sort of demon or monster was he? What kind of beautiful woman hiding beneath a painted skin?
“It’s been several years, Shuxin. You’ve grown quite a bit.” Lin Juansheng looked at Chai Shuxin and smiled. “You’ve become quite the elegant young gentleman.”
“He certainly has grown quite a bit! Which proves that you’ve gotten old, too!”
A figure suddenly emerged from beneath the water, splashing Lin Juansheng from head to toe.
“Senior Brother! Save me!”
“Little Junior Brother, you’re the only person I know who can cry for help while still managing to be so sharp-tongued.” Lin Juansheng smiled helplessly as he pulled him out of the water. “It’s cold. Be careful not to catch a chill.”
“Catching a chill is a small matter. Senior Brother, save me first!” Mu Geshen swept his wet hair back and pointed toward the opposite bank, where Song Wentong stood with fury blazing in his eyes. “That bastard is fighting a fellow disciple to the death over a chicken!”
“Wentong’s chicken is a treasure.” The Master of the Ginkgo Study smiled when he heard this. “It wakes you up in the morning and gives you something delicious to chew on at night.”
“Master!”
“All right, all right. Your master is here. Wentong won’t dare to go too far.” Lin Juansheng handed Mu Geshen a cup of hot tea, then pointed to the unfinished chess game on the board. “I can save you, but you have to finish this game of chess with me.”
Mu Geshen shuddered at the words. “Senior Brother, you only beat the national champion last month!”
“Precisely because I beat the national champion, I came back to play a game with you.”
Chai Shuxin froze at this and couldn’t help glancing at Wu Zixu.
“Fourth Brother and Big Brother have played nine games of chess.” Wu Zixu was still calculating his accounts. As he moved the abacus beads, he spoke softly. “Two draws and seven victories.”
“Who won?”
Wu Zixu looked up and smiled. “Who do you think?”
Chai Shuxin fell silent for a moment before turning his gaze back toward the waterside.
An Ping knew nothing about chess. All he saw was that everyone in the pavilion was gathered around the board, watching and pondering. The game lasted from morning until dusk.
After watching for a while, Wu Zixu had to return to deal with official documents. In the afternoon, the Master of the Ginkgo Study also wheeled himself away for a nap, leaving behind a leisurely remark.
“If you defeat your senior brother, I’ll have Wentong kill his chicken and cook it for you.”
“Master, please stop setting me up.” Mu Geshen wore a bitter expression. “This endgame is far too difficult to salvage.”
“The road ahead is long and arduous. Keep striving.”
Only Chai Shuxin remained standing to one side throughout. His eyes were lowered, his expression composed, and his posture upright. Even after several hours, he showed no sign of fatigue.
An Ping waited until dusk was nearly over and the lamps had been lit in the waterside pavilion before Chai Shuxin finally moved.
An Ping followed him all the way out, only to discover that he was heading to the kitchen.
Song Wentong was practicing with his saber in the courtyard. When he saw Chai Shuxin, he asked, “What brings you here?”
“To help with the cooking,” Chai Shuxin replied calmly. “To kill the chicken.”
Ginkgo Study, small kitchen.
Rice, oil, salt, and firewood. A single bright lamp.
Song Wentong chopped off the chicken’s head with one stroke, then tossed Sichuan peppercorns into the wok to stir-fry until fragrant. The aroma quickly filled the room.
“I didn’t expect you to know how to cook.”
“The Medicine House has many recipes for medicinal cuisine.” Chai Shuxin rolled up his sleeves and was preparing a pot of soup. “My cooking skills aren’t as good as my elder sister’s. I only know the basics.”
“You’re planning to make pork tripe and chicken soup?” Song Wentong glanced at the stove and moved the spatula. “With two chickens, we can pull the meat apart and make five bowls of noodle soup. Use the rest to make soy-sauce chicken legs and spicy-and-sour chicken feet. Deep-fry the chicken backbones, then mix up some chili oil…”
“Why the hell are you back again? Get lost!”
“I came to pay my respects to my chicken brother.” Mu Geshen was leaning against the windowsill. He caught the apple Song Wentong threw at him and took a crunchy bite. “I told it long ago, when it first started crowing in the morning, that anyone who disturbed my sweet dreams would have their bones ground to dust.”
“How old are you this year, for fuck’s sake? You’re still taking revenge on a chicken?”
“Hey, remember to save me some of those feathers. I want to make a shuttlecock.” Mu Geshen swiftly changed the subject, then looked at Chai Shuxin. “Little Physician, you’re actually washing your hands and making soup? What great fortune have we stumbled upon today?”
“Pork tripe and chicken soup, with pepper and codonopsis root added. It nourishes deficiencies and strengthens the spleen.” Chai Shuxin answered indifferently. “It will benefit Teacher’s health.”
“Little Physician, if you have time, why don’t you teach Second Brother how to make Yipin Pot?” Mu Geshen shamelessly pushed his luck. “I tried it once at your residence last time, and I haven’t been able to forget it. But this fellow insists he doesn’t know how to make it.”
“Yipin Pot is my elder sister’s specialty. I don’t know how to prepare it either.” Chai Shuxin replied. “If you want to try it again, just come by next time.”
Song Wentong listened in bewilderment, looking suspiciously at Chai Shuxin.
“You two have made peace? What kind of bewitching soup did Fourth Brother feed you?”
Mu Geshen threw the apple core at him. “You can’t expect anything decent to come out of a dog’s mouth. If you have nothing to say, no one’s going to mistake you for a mute.”
Seeing that the two were about to start fighting again, Chai Shuxin walked to the window and looked at Mu Geshen beneath the lamplight. He gave a slight nod.
“Thank you for what you did last time.”
Mu Geshen froze. “Huh? What did I do?”
Chai Shuxin: “…”
“Oh, oh, oh! I remember now. I only went to the docks to put in a word about the shipment. It was a small favor, Little Physician. Don’t take it to heart… Little Physician! Hey, don’t leave! Stay for dinner! I really wasn’t asking you to stay just so you’d wash the dishes—”