Chapter 34

Mu Gesheng’s words confirmed An Ping’s suspicion—the young man before him was Chai Suxin.

The other party’s expression was calm, unruffled, as he nodded to An Ping, then looked up at Mu Gesheng on the second floor. “I’m back.”

“Just in time.” Mu Gesheng stretched lazily and jumped down from the window. “I haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“What do you want to eat?”

“Yangchun noodles, with a richer broth.” Mu Gesheng casually grabbed the enamel mug from An Ping’s hand, opened it, and took a sip. “Not bad. This lotus seed soup only comes out during the first lunar month—every year, it tastes just as good.”

Chai Suxin turned and went into the kitchen. An Ping was still dazed when Mu Gesheng snapped his fingers in front of his eyes. "Snap out of it," he said with a mischievous grin. "Your eyes are all glazed over. Never seen a beauty before?"

Only then did An Ping come to his senses, incredulous. "I never thought he was still alive..."

"He's been dead," Mu Gesheng cut him off, "just like me."

An Ping was stunned and about to ask more, but Mu Gesheng was already carrying an enamel basin and said, "Come on, let's go to the temple fair."

He left behind a sentence, "Ampoule, you don’t need to ask more; you’ll understand in time."

Mu Gesheng walked to the front yard and casually grabbed a handful of change from the donation box. The oxherd shouted hoarsely from behind him, "You’re taking my incense money again!"

"I’ll pay you back later!" Mu Gesheng waved his hand and slipped away.

Outside, the temple fair was already filled with the clamor of drums and gongs. Two big red lion dancers dashed down the street, fighting over an embroidered ball. Mu Gesheng vanished into the crowd in the blink of an eye. When An Ping finally found him, he was squatting in front of a fortune-telling stall, holding a sugar painting—a pig Bajie made from syrup.

The dignified Tian Suanzi went and snatched someone else’s small business; An Ping found it amusing and thought this person had reached a new level of shamelessness. As he walked over, he heard Mu Gesheng say, “Brother, I see you’ve got quite a few coins in that bowl. I’ve got a whole bill here, want to trade some change?”

Anping: "......"

The fortune teller glanced sideways at Mu Gesheng, who bit off Pigsy’s head in one bite and said, “I’m not trading with you for free either. How about this: I’ll do a reading for you and see how much you’ll earn today?”

An Ping was left speechless. In the moment he got distracted, Mu Gesheng actually managed to trade for money—and not only that, he also slipped away with the bowl.

He watched Mu Gesheng roam the streets, trading the bowl for a lantern, the lantern for candied hawthorns, the candied hawthorns for a tiger-headed doll from a child’s hand... Good grief, the temple fair turned into a barter market for him. Finally, with a leap, he took advantage of the chaos to snatch the embroidered ball floating in the air.

Two lion dancers leapt into the air, biting down only to realize that after all the performance, it was just a cloth tiger.

The child who had finished the candied hawthorn looked at the bewildered lion dance team, sniffled, and burst into tears, "They stole my tiger!"

Mu Gesheng swaggered back to the City God Temple, placed some change at the ticket booth, and knocked on the window, "Here’s your incense money."

This person had wandered around without spending a single cent.

Anping was completely dazzled. "How did you manage to exchange money at the fortune-telling stall?"

"Oh, that," Muge Sheng blinked. "I told him my daughter is a city enforcement officer."

Anping: "…Actually, I've always wanted to ask, Wubi is still a minor, so how did he become a city enforcement officer?"

Muge Sheng yawned. "He's a servant of the underworld, tasked with patrolling the human realm. Besides cracking down on lawbreakers, he’s responsible for capturing wandering lost souls and restless ghosts—kind of like the day and night patrol spirits of Fengdu—but he just uses a fake mortal official title."

The back courtyard door creaked open, and Chai Shuxin came out carrying a white porcelain bowl, steam rising from it. "Dinner's ready."

"Alright, coming, coming," Mu Gesheng said as he took the bowl. The soy-colored broth held a handful of thin noodles, topped with vibrant green scallions. Anping watched, swallowing hard. The ox tugged at his sleeve, "Come on, let's get some rice."

Anping followed them into the back kitchen. This room was usually just for show, but today the stove was lit. One pot of thin noodles, one pot of broth. "This whole big family," the ox said as he ladled a bowl of noodles, then cooked himself a fried egg, sighing with satisfaction, "Finally, someone who can cook has come back."

Anping also served himself a bowl. He had only seen Chai Shuxin cook once in a dream, and never expected his skills to be this good.

Back then at the Ginkgo Study, he watched Song Wentong being served special meals every day, but unfortunately, he could only look and not taste, his craving tearing at his heart. Today, he finally got to feast, and the two of them happily ate around the pot.

“Tonight is New Year’s Eve.” Huang Niu lifted the pots and pans off the stove; the earthenware jar held marinated, cleaned chicken and duck, fish and shrimp soaked in clear water, and several large baskets of vegetables. “With this setup, we can lay out a grand feast tonight.”

An Ping looked out the window, unsure how to address Chai Shuxin. After a moment’s hesitation, he said vaguely, “That person… does he live here?”

“That’s right.” Huang Niu buried his head in his noodles. “There was a bit of trouble recently. That master rarely goes out, and it just so happened your arrival didn’t overlap with his.” He let out a burp. “Luckily, he made it back before the New Year, or with Tian Suanzi’s cooking skills, we’d be starving on New Year’s Eve.”

“Does he usually do the cooking?”

Huang Niu smiled and looked out the window. “Not entirely.”

The two stood at the back door; Chai Shuxin held a bowl while Mu Gesheng stood on the threshold, pasting couplets.

Huang Niu was right—the kitchen was fired up that very afternoon, frying, boiling, stewing, and sautéing, filling the courtyard with rich aromas. Mu Gesheng sat under the eaves playing chess with An Ping. An Ping had been learning from Lin Juansheng for several days and had made some progress. He was mentally prepared, but as expected, he was utterly defeated.

"Anping, you lost again." Mu Gesheng tossed a chess piece, "Want to play Gomoku?"

This guy was killing him while mocking him, and even arranged a smiley face on the board with the pieces. Anping's composure broke, "No more."

"Come on, don’t be like that. You learned from my senior brother, losing like this is embarrassing."

Anping wasn’t buying it. "Even Changshengzi lost to you, it’s not shameful."

Mu Gesheng shrugged, "It's a pity the senior brother isn't here; we haven't gone out in a long time."

Lin Juansheng is the head of the Penglai Sect. A few days ago, there was something going on in the sect, so he returned to Penglai early.

With nothing to do, Mu Gesheng went to the kitchen and came back carrying a large basin of freshly fried lotus root sandwiches, golden and crispy. The whole courtyard was filled with the crunching sounds of him eating. Anping, unable to bear it any longer, grabbed his schoolbag from the room and pulled out two thick stacks of test papers.

"Anping'er, it's New Year's today," Mu Gesheng said, raising an eyebrow. "Is it really necessary to work this hard, doing homework on New Year's Eve?"

An Ping thought to himself, haha, and placed a stack of test papers in front of Mu Gesheng. "These are yours, Mu."

"Study hard, let's write together."

As expected, Mu Gesheng refused, folding the test papers into paper airplanes and flying them all over the yard.

An Ping couldn't stand it any longer and was about to speak when the back door creaked open. "Has the old bastard woken up yet... damn!"

It was Wubi You; the paper airplane in Mu Gesheng’s hand flew out and landed squarely on his face.

“Daughter, you’re here.” Mu Gesheng waved his hand, finally finding some amusement. “Come over and kowtow to your old man, I’ll give you some New Year’s money.”

Wubi You seemed to have come bearing New Year’s gifts, carrying big and small packages. Upon hearing this, she exploded, “Kowtow to your grandpa!”

“How can you talk to your father like that, so disrespectful? Be careful, you might not grow any taller this year.” Mu Gesheng wiped his hands. “It just so happens you’re back during the coldest days; stay for the New Year’s Eve dinner tonight.”

Wu Bi seemed a bit wary of Chai Suxin. He glanced toward the kitchen and said stiffly, "I’m not eating." With that, he tossed the New Year’s goods aside and was about to leave.

The next second, the kitchen door opened, and Chai Suxin stood in the doorway. "It’s time for your medicine," he said.

This time, Mu Gesheng refused, "I’m not taking it." Then he added, "I just finished the last prescription; at least give me a break."

"You stopped taking your medicine on your own these past few months," Chai Suxin said, unfazed. "You didn’t take a single dose of the last prescription."

With a single remark exposing the truth, Mu Gesheng didn’t even blush or get out of breath; chewing on a lotus root sandwich, he mumbled indistinctly, “Fine, I’ll eat after my daughter finishes paying her New Year respects.”

Chai Suxin turned his head to look at Wubiyou.

Wubiyou: “……”

These few had truly formed a bizarre food chain. Wubiyou almost pinched his nose as he paid his New Year respects to Mu Gesheng. After finishing, he didn’t leave but sat on the steps playing games, kicking Anping’s table with his foot, “Come over and team up.”

Anping took out his phone, and the two played a few rounds; the win rate was decent, and Wubi looked a bit better. Anping thought for a moment, then made small talk: "You came here for the New Year?"

"What’s wrong with that?" Wubi shot him a sideways glance. "Can’t I come?"

"Aren’t you the one who doesn’t like your dad?" Always shouting that the old man was dead and gone.

"Screw you, he’s not my dad." Wubi snorted. "I’m here to see the Rakshasa kid. He and my dad were brothers back in the day."

As if Mu Gesheng wasn’t a brother to Wu Zixu, An Ping thought bitterly to himself, then suddenly realized that Wu Bi had a special name for Chai Suxin. “What did you just call him?”

“Rakshasa.” Wu Bi glanced at him. “Didn’t that old immortal tell you? Didn’t you see the memorial tablet in the room that night?”

On An Ping’s first night staying at the City God Temple, he woke suddenly from a dream in the middle of the night. In that room, where the wind blew the door open, he saw a memorial tablet.

The spirit of the master of the sons—Chai Suxin’s tablet.

In An Ping's memories, Chai Shuxin was still a Ling Shuzi; what exactly happened during that time, he did not know.

Spirit tablets have always been things for the dead. Mu Gesheng also said in the morning that Chai Shuxin, like him, was someone who had already died.

Luochazi—born from chaos, master of murder.

Though capable of pacifying turbulent times, they are violent and cruel. Every Luochazi throughout history has been an immense rebel, completely uncontrollable, even at odds with the other six families—a variable that causes headaches and fear for everyone.

Kill the Buddha when you meet the Buddha, kill the ancestor when you meet the ancestor, kill the Arhat when you meet the Arhat, kill your parents when you meet your parents, kill your relatives when you meet your relatives—only then can you attain liberation.

In An Ping’s memory, although Chai Shuxin was taciturn and aloof, he was ultimately a gentleman. It was truly unbelievable that the young master of the Yao family had become so vicious and cruel.

“I thought that old bastard had told you everything,” Wubi You said to An Ping with a cold sneer. “Then again, there are things even he doesn’t remember.”

Wubi You was like a firecracker ready to explode at the slightest spark. An Ping wanted to ask what had happened to Wu Zixu before his death, but after opening his mouth, he swallowed his words back down.

The past was shrouded in layers of mist, growing ever more perplexing. An Ping didn’t even know how Mu Gesheng introduced him to the others; it seemed everyone inexplicably accepted his presence—after all, he was just an ordinary person. Could he really have so easily inserted himself into the affairs of the Seven Sects?

Could it really be, as Wubi said, that Muge Sheng wants to take him as a disciple?

Anping shivered; he still had a family business to inherit. Being an ordinary second-generation rich kid was good enough—he didn’t have such lofty ambitions.

He had seen all of Muge Sheng’s memories—what a tumultuous and bittersweet half-life it had been.

Although Muge Sheng was somewhat close to him, this man had almost become a spirit, showing no emotions on his face, always wearing a smile no matter who he met. Reflecting on everything before, Anping felt that Muge Sheng might not be as others said; perhaps he had other plans.

His cultivation was profound, beyond his ability to comprehend. Anping indulged in wild thoughts for a moment, but in the end, he cast aside the tangled musings.

There is a long road ahead.

In the kitchen, Mu Gesheng drank a bowl of medicine with deep bitterness and hatred. "Have you finished your task?"

"Almost, the remaining Three Paths have been mostly cleared." Chai Suxin washed dishes by the sink. "Is he the child you mentioned?"

“Hmm, by a twist of fate, he tasted my blood.” Mu Gesheng lay to the side, rinsing his mouth. “A bit of destiny—I'll keep him close for now.” Then he recalled something, “Not long ago, there was a disturbance at the Yin-Yang Staircase. Was it you who pulled him out from the Three Paths?”

“He carries a jade clasp, stained with your blood.”

“Impressive that you noticed.”

Chai Suxin wiped his hands, pulled something from his bosom, and handed it to Mu Gesheng. “I took this out from the Yin-Yang Staircase.”

Mu Gesheng looked stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing: "You actually found it."

It was a Mountain Ghost flower coin.