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Chapter 49: Da-shanren (IV)
Although Xuanmin did not understand why Xue Xian was suddenly interrogating him, he still gave a response. "I retain some fragmented memories of the past," he said. "Some of them are from childhood."
Perhaps it was how overly serious Xue Xian was acting, but something about his questions felt amiss. After Xuanmin replied, he looked down, his black, peaceful gaze locking with Xue Xian's. Xuanmin added, "I am certain."
Ever since their conversation at the inn, Xue Xian felt that he understood Xuanmin's personality a bit more, or at least he felt more sure about him ––
Even if you ignored everything else about the bald donkey, there was one positive aspect to him, which was that he never lied. If he did not remember something, he would never perfunctorily make something up to placate Xue Xian, but would plainly say that he had forgotten. And if Xuanmin could remember, but did not want to talk about it, he would also plainly say that he did not wish to inform Xue Xian, instead of forcing himself to accommodate his interrogator.
So if Xuanmin calmly said, "I am certain," then he really was certain –– it meant that he really did have some bits and pieces of childhood memories, and that in those scenes, he had already become a monk.
Hearing Xuanmin's response, Xue Xian neither nodded nor shook his head. For some time, he said nothing at all, only gazing intently at Xuanmin.
Sensing Xue Xian’s mood, Xuanmin calmly asked, "You don't believe me?"
"It's not that," Xue Xian said. Suddenly, he reached out his hand and hooked his finger, gesturing for Xuanmin to come closer. "Come here."
"Mn?" Xuanmin still did not understand, but bent down anyway. He assumed Xue Xian had something to tell him that he didn't want Chen-shu and the others to hear, so he waited patiently for Xue Xian to speak.
But no words came –– only the niezhang’s claw.
Squinting, Xue Xian suddenly touched Xuanmin's head and clicked his tongue. "Poor baby, you were so young when you shaved your head!"
Xuanmin: “...”
There was a saying about children who were particularly adept at making trouble for their parents: if you don't beat the child for three days, it'll get so bored that it'll climb up your house and start taking the roof apart. This niezhang is staging a mutiny, Xuanmin thought.
The others in the carriage observed the scene, dismayed –– especially Xingzi, who had even stopped crying and instead began to think, The relationship between these two is... maybe too good?
Unblinking, she directed her big eyes at Xue Xian, but accidentally exchanged a glance with Xuanmin.
That dashi really was quite attractive, she noted. Especially those serene, resolute eyes, which always gave one a reassuring feeling, as if to say that if Xuanmin wasn't stressed, then no one else needed to be stressed, either –– he could always come up with an idea to save the day.
But, for some reason, when Xingzi met with those eyes, she felt an inexplicable sense of guilt.
Before Xingzi could break eye contact, Xuanmin was already looking away.
His face set with exasperation, he grabbed Xue Xian's skinny wrist and pried the mischievous claw away from his head. Probably to stop Xue Xian from immediately putting his hand back and maybe even trying to touch Xuanmin’s face this time, Xuanmin refused to let go.
Xue Xian scoffed. "How precious is that head of yours? Why can't I touch it?"
Xuanmin ignored him.
Actually, Xuanmin's grip was not that tight: a quick tug would be enough to get out of it. But Xue Xian did not struggle –– he rested his wrist there, letting Xuanmin hold it.
The coolness in Xuanmin's fingers seeped into Xue Xian's skin, so that his wrist soon became the same cool temperature.
Xue Xian's gaze idly fell onto Xuanmin's hand, and he compared the monk to that person with the golden threads once more –– indeed, they were alike in every way, except for that shadow of hair.
But Xuanmin had already shorn his head and become a monk as a child, and Xue Xian had only been maimed six months ago. That meant Xuanmin couldn't possibly have done the deed.
To Xue Xian, as long as Xuanmin wasn't that person, then everything was alright.
Otherwise...
Xue Xian abruptly stopped his train of thought in its tracks before he could think of ‘otherwise’. He changed the subject and asked Xuanmin, "Just now, you said that you found their position, but could not approach? Then you said 'However' –– however what? Can't you see that you've made them all cry with that dramatic pause?"
Hearing him say this, Chen-shu and Chen-sao's ears perked up and they looked eagerly at Xuanmin.
Xuanmin straightened up. Casting an eye back into the thick fog in that abandoned village, he raised his other hand.
He uncurled his fist, and, with a light clang, the copper coin pendant fell out and dangled gently from his finger.
"Indeed, I cannot approach. However––" Now Xuanmin finally let go of Xue Xian's wrist, so that he could use his index finger to nudge the coins into some kind of sequence. Calmly, Xuanmin said, "Since we cannot go there, then let them come here."
Xuanmin took away his other hand and the coins emitted a humming noise, the red string that tied them together suddenly tightening.
Then, a deafening noise came from within the abandoned village, as though something had been uprooted from the ground.
Startled, the group inside the carriage looked at each other anxiously. At that moment, a black scar appeared in the fog and loomed over them.
"Oh heavens, look! What's that?" Xingzi shouted, tugging at Chen-sao's sleeve and pointing at the sky.
The black shadow was coming toward them at high speed, and as it approached, its silhouette became clearer––
That was the entirety of an old, dilapidated compound, which, along with the patch of ground on which it had originally stood, was being levitated over to them by Xuanmin.
Hong––
With an immense thud, the compound landed on the ground in front of them, that patch of weeds surrounding the buildings sinking its roots into the new earth immediately.
This was what Xuanmin had meant by: Since we cannot go there, then let them come here.
Chen-sao, Chen-shu, and Xingzi were rendered speechless with shock. They had never imagined such an extravagant way of moving house –– they forgot even to close their mouths.
As the compound fell to the ground, they could also hear the sound of screaming coming from within the building. And...
"Bookworm," Xue Xian suddenly said, peering at the skinny silhouette clinging tightly onto the knocker of the front doors. He sneered, "Are you trying to become this household's door god?" [a]
That skinny silhouette was none other than the escapee from Xue Xian's pocket –– Jiang Shining.
Of course Jiang Shining would never have been able to sit tight in the carriage and wait for news about his sister. Xue Xian had guessed right –– Jiang Shining had indeed tumbled away from his hiding place in Xue Xian’s robes and followed Xuanmin into the village. He had been there when Xuanmin had discovered where his sister and brother-in-law were being kept. But one key difference between him and the monk was that Xuanmin was a human and could therefore not enter the compound, whereas Jiang Shining was a ghost, and effortlessly strode to the compound's front doors. But before he could go inside, the entire place had been brusquely yanked away...
He hadn't had the time to turn back into a paper man, so now he came face to face with Chen-sao, Chen-shu, and Xingzi.
"Oh heavens... Jiang... Jiang-xiao-shaoye?" Chen-shu stammered. "You... you didn't... are you still..."
He wanted to say You didn't die, but the word ‘die’ was too inauspicious, and he could not get himself to utter it. Then he wanted to say, Are you still alive, but that phrase sounded far too awkward, so he had not been able to say that, either –– ultimately coming across as a stuttering mess.
Xingzi's eyes brimmed with tears again as she tugged furiously at Chen-sao's sleeve. "I knew it! I knew I'd really seen him! I really did see Jiang-xiao-shaoye knock on the door... but... but xiao-shaoye, you..."
Jiang Shining met all of their eyes calmly and saluted them. "Knocking on the door had been a reckless action. I scared you, Xingzi-guniang."
"And now you're..."
"Sadly, I'm a rogue ghost." Jiang Shining laughed bitterly, then added, "Chen-shu, Chen-sao, it's been a while. Thank you for having missed me all this time."
Hearing the word ghost, the mortals in the carriage all fell silent, unsure what to say to that –– besides, the current circumstances weren't the best time to talk about the past together.
"Xu Compound..." Xue Xian muttered as he read the signage on the compound's front doors.
"Xu?" Chen-shu repeated. "Could this be the home of Xu-da-shanren?"
"Xu-da-shanren?" Xue Xian asked. "Who's that?"
Chen-shu explained: "Most people who lived in Wen Village were surnamed Wen, and only about ten of the households had moved in later. One of them was a merchant surnamed Xu. They say that he had started out his career as a textile merchant and had even owned his own textile mill, and that he had earned a great deal of money over the decades. But at some point, a tragedy occurred, and he sold the textile business and moved his family to Wen Village, which was his wife's hometown. He lived there for fifteen or sixteen years. He was an immensely kind man, and didn't lack money. Everyone in the village received his generous help. That's why they called him Xu-da-shanren."
Xue Xian had been about to knock on the door, but, hearing Chen-shu's words, he stopped. Instead, he waved his sleeve and summoned a tiny gust of wind that filtered through the minuscule gap between the set of rusted doors and gently pushed them open.
As the ancient doors creaked open, there came several more screams of terror from the eastern room –– there were people in there, and they were deathly afraid.
In the same moment that Xue Xian was opening the front doors of the compound, someone had shuffled over to the shut door of the eastern room and had been about to push it open, but suddenly stalled. This person raised his hand to protect his eyes, seemingly unable to tolerate the thin stream of daylight that was seeping from outside onto his face.
The patch of light could not illuminate what this person looked like, only a vague contour –– his back was hunched over with age, showing that he was at least fifty years old. Although he had originally been of average height, his legs no longer stood steady, and his knees sagged so that he appeared bowlegged.
It took the man a long time to get used to the light. Finally, he put down his hand and, standing half-submerged in the darkness, calmly said: "My dear guests, why are you standing by the front door? Today your humble servant Xu [b] celebrates his birthday and everyone is invited. If you would please, I would be honored if you would come in to feast and drink some wine."
The group was stunned. This really was Xu-da-shanren.
Before they could react, Xu-da-shanren spoke again. "I am lucky to have old friends looking out for me, who have travelled a great distance to celebrate with me. They are one of the most famous theatre troupes in Anqing, and their performances are melodious and entertaining. You may come inside and wait for a while, and treat your ears. Every time the troupe visits, the entire Wen Village rejoices. Everyone loves to listen to them."
Theatre troupe?
Xue Xian and Xuanmin exchanged glances, both recalling the group that they had previously encountered. But their thoughts were interrupted by a transformation of the scene in front of them––
Xu-da-shanren's words seemed to have triggered some kind of hidden portal. The dilapidated Xu compound was suddenly lit up by rows of brilliant red lanterns, and a crowd began to walk the streets of Wen Village. Hundreds of people milled about from beyond the fog, walking towards the compound, forming a dense crowd whose end could not be seen.
And at the same time, the sound of trotting horses emerged from the other end of the mountain path, making its way toward the village
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The author has something to say:
Goodnight~
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[a] Door gods are specifically printed images of folk deities pasted to doors and gates of homes in order to repel evil or bring good fortune. Here, Musuli has Xue Xian play on the fact that Jiang Shining is made of paper.
[b] The Chinese phrasing here is 徐某 (xu2 mou3). 徐 is Xu, the man’s surname; 某 means “some” and is a word that is sometimes used as a placeholder for something unimportant, generalised, or meaningless. This phrasing is a polite, humble, self-effacing way of referring to oneself, suggesting that one’s status is low or redundant.
This chapter was beta’d by Rogue!
Hmm.... Maybe our baldy has a brother? Or smth.... If he's not the same person, then maybe some how they are related?
ReplyDeleteOr maybe he used to be a monk in his youth but later grew out his hair? And then shaved it (or was shaved) after The Incident...
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