Chapter 21

In the center of the dining table sat a five-compartment copper pot, containing Sichuan spicy red oil, three-flavor white broth, medicinal herbal soup, cold pot fish, and a chrysanthemum-shaped pot. Mu Gesheng speared a piece of tripe with his chopsticks, his mouth burning bright red from the spice. “After staying abroad, my taste buds have gone bland, but Second Brother’s cooking is truly exquisite. It’s no wonder I’ve been thinking about this meal day and night, craving this very flavor.”

In the room, a small table was set apart, holding dishes of meat and vegetables, pots, bowls, and utensils. Song Wentong, apron tied around his waist, was slicing lamb. “If you damn well can’t finish it, then just swallow the table whole for me.”

“Easy, easy, even if you were to carve up an entire elephant right now, Old Three and I could still clean it all up for you.”

“When Old Five transformed, his appetite skyrocketed, almost eating the study room into poverty.” Wu Zixu shook his head with a smile. “Old Two opened this shop because Old Five could eat so much; every day the scraps from the small kitchen could be turned into several big pots of food. To avoid waste, that’s how Yeshui Zhuhua came to be.”

“When I left back then, the kid was only up to my waist.” Mu Gesheng gestured with his hand. “Old Two wrote saying he was taken back by the Zhu family. Any news lately? How’s he doing?”

“A while ago, he wrote back saying the Zhu family’s food wasn’t good and he’d gotten skinny from hunger.” Wu Zixu laughed. “He’s eagerly waiting to come back. What are you planning to do?”

"I'm not the one cooking, you have to ask the second brother about that." Mu Gesheng said unclearly with chopsticks in his mouth, "If the fifth brother cries, throws a tantrum, and threatens to hang himself in the letter, the second brother might just bring the Blood-Licking Knife to cook for him."

"The Zhu family keeps to themselves, and the only one who can summon the Starborn is..." Wu Zixu hadn't finished speaking when Song Wentong slammed his knife into the chopping board and served a plate of lamb, "Time to eat."

"Alright, thank you for your hard work." Mu Gesheng smiled warmly as he poured a glass of wine for someone, "Let's eat, let's eat."

The meal lasted over an hour, the three of them reunited after a long time, chatting from the southernmost to the northernmost parts of the world. "I first went to Germany, then moved to the Soviet Union, and spent my last year studying in Europe..." Mu Gesheng, drunk and swaying, gestured wildly: "Guess what? The English... even recite Shakespeare in bed!"

Song Wentong laughed heartily: "What, did you go wild with the foreigners?"

"Not quite, feelings are genuine but respect is maintained, I know my limits." Mu Gesheng waved his hand. "It was when I was at Cambridge, I heard from a drama club classmate. We were rowing on the Cam River, and a Chinese student brought a violin and actually played the tune of Xipi Liushui."

"I sang a piece of Liang Zhu, and a girl asked me what it was about." Mu Gesheng laughed as he spoke: "I said it was about Romeo and Juliet, who turned into butterflies after death."

"Wonderful—" Wu Zixu, buoyed by the wine, struck up a tune, his voice drifting leisurely, "Plum blossoms bloom before the study door, today I send my brother home."

"Sometimes we gather, sometimes we part; flowers bloom and fall, yet buds form again."

Mu Gesheng took up the refrain, tapping his cup, "If there is parting, there will surely be reunion."

"A pair of drunks." Song Wentong shook his head as he listened, then rose to clear the dishes. "The talent has just returned, and already rushing to sing the eighteen farewells."

After the meal, Mu Gesheng stood up to take his leave. "I'm going to find Xiaofengzi to tailor a few gowns. Second brother, remember to set up a few lively tables tonight; invite everyone to gather."

"Get lost," Song Wentong waved his hand. "Yeshuizhu Hua is closed tonight for a banquet; you won’t be short of food."

Mu Gesheng rubbed his belly and left. Wu Zixu watched his retreating figure and said, "Fourth brother is probably heading back."

"Fear of returning home, he came here first to drink and bolster his courage—what a coward," Song Wentong sneered, then frowned. "Why did you bring up those things at the table just now?"

"I'm telling the truth. The Fourth Brother knows it, and so do you," Wu Zixu sighed. "Back then, when the Zhu family entrusted Xingzizi to the teacher's care, it was officially to enroll in the Ginkgo Study, but everyone knew the Zhu family was actually entrusting him with the Tiansuanzi."

"Before the teacher passed away, he made it very clear in front of the heads of the seven families that the position of Tiansuan was to be inherited by the Fourth Brother. Those forty-nine Mountain Ghost Flowers—whether he liked it or not—had to be collected."

"If he didn’t want to accept them, then we wouldn’t collect them. At worst, we’d cover for him," Song Wentong said. "The Fourth Brother comes from a military family; he probably doesn’t want to get involved in the petty affairs of the seven families."

"You, alone with a knife, a lone wolf—your words are easy to say," Wu Zixu said, feeling a headache coming on. "But if something really happens, won’t I still have to step in and smooth things over?"

"Third brother, thanks for your hard work. I'll treat you to dinner tonight."

"I won't eat." Wu Zixu waved his hand. "There's something going on in Fengdu, I still have to go down there."

"Fourth brother just got back." Song Wentong raised an eyebrow. "Who has such quick news?"

"Dead people have fewer worries than the living." Wu Zixu shook his head. "It's only a matter of time."

Mu Gesheng first had someone take his measurements and made several long gowns. Then he changed into a plain white long robe, washed his face and hands, and left the city.

Baishui Temple, Ginkgo Study.

After the owner of the Ginkgo Study passed away, the study no longer held classes or lectures, but it was not repurposed. It still retained its original appearance. A young monk who was cleaning saw Mu Gesheng and bowed, chanting a Buddhist name.

Mu Gesheng kowtowed three times in front of the waterside pavilion, then entered the incense hall, knelt on the cushion, and respectfully offered three sticks of incense.

The window was filled with ginkgo trees, their shadows swaying gently. Mu Gesheng looked at the ancestral tablet on the altar and spoke softly.

“Master, Gesheng has returned.”

Mu Gesheng knelt for a long time, until the sun set in the west. The door of the incense hall creaked open. He didn’t look back but smiled, saying, “I knew you would come.”

A figure entered, kowtowing and offering incense, then said, “You’ve been kneeling all afternoon.”

"That's quite unusual." Mu Gesheng laughed, "In the dead of winter, you actually complain that I kneel too long."

Chai Shuxin knelt nearby. Four years had passed, and though the other’s expression remained cold and refined, there was now a steadiness and gravity to him, like snow washing away the sharpness of plum blossoms. His white robes were unchanged.

"I didn’t see you at lunch, so I figured we’d meet in the study." Mu Gesheng said, "Judging by your look, you come here often?"

"The Yao family is busy, with little free time. I only come occasionally." Chai Shuxin said, bowing toward the spirit tablet, "The student is unfilial."

"Don't say that. If what you do counts as unfilial, then wouldn't I be accused of betraying my teacher and ancestors?"

The two fell silent for a moment before Chai Shuxin spoke, "Your master passed away two years ago. Why haven't you returned?"

"Following my master's orders, I did not return," Mu Gesheng replied. "My master commanded that after the seventh day, no one should attend the funeral. By the time the letter from my second brother reached Moscow, the seventh day had long passed. With my master's abilities, it was impossible to miscalculate the date. There is only one possibility: he did not want me to come back."

"Moreover, the Tian Suanzi of each generation predicts fate. After death, the soul is destined to scatter and not enter reincarnation. The funeral is merely a formality. No matter how much paper is burned, my master would never cross the Naihe Bridge; otherwise, my second brother would have already gone to Fengdu to abduct him, and he would have returned to life amidst great fanfare."

“You didn’t return that year, and rumors have been swirling,” Chai Suxin said calmly. “The master personally passed the position of Tian Suanzi to you; all the disciples obeyed without exception. You’ve wasted two years abroad, and the seven families have been waiting a long time. It’s time for you to take over the Mountain Ghost’s expenses.”

“What about my senior brother? He’s more capable than I am. Let him take over.”

“Brother Lin was sent to Penglai by the master’s order back then, with a ten-year term during which he cannot leave the sect. Now that the master has passed the position to you, according to Tian Suan Sect rules, he must withdraw from the sect. He is now a disciple of Penglai.”

“...What kind of business is the master running?” Mu Gesheng was stunned, then said after a long pause, “Is this forcing someone to join the bandits?”

"The news of your return has already spread far and wide; the tree wishes to stand still, but the wind will not cease—you cannot avoid it."

"Youthful pride often leads to wasted time, yet it's a pity the green mountains wait for no one." Mu Gesheng sighed, "Among the Seven Houses of the Disciples, the seventh has yet to appear in the world. Why is everyone in such a hurry?"

"The Rakshasa is born amidst chaos, a god of slaughter who destroys heaven and earth. If the seventh house manifests, the disciples will no longer steer calmly but must strive to turn the tide." Chai Suxin said, "It has been centuries since the last Rakshasa was born. Now, with the world in turmoil, all the houses are filled with worry."

The Seven Houses of the Disciples—six have long existed in the world. The last is the Rakshasa, like the Tiansuanzi, with only one member per house, born only during great chaos, embodying slaughter. Though capable of pacifying disorder, they are violent and cruel. Every Rakshasa through the ages has been a tremendous rebel, utterly uncontrollable, sometimes even at odds with the other six houses—a variable that causes headaches and fear for all.

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.

“The fate of the Rakshasa child can only be balanced by Heaven’s decree,” Mu Gesheng understood clearly. “No wonder, so you’ve been waiting for me here.”

“All seven families have received the news; they will gather within a few days. You must make your plans early.”

“I understand. You may take your leave now, minister.” Mu Gesheng stood up. “By the way, I heard from Xiaofengzi that his father was treated at your family’s pharmacy. Please convey my thanks to him.”

"Practicing medicine to help the world is, after all, the duty of a healer." Chai Suxin also stood up and looked at Mu Gesheng. "What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing." Mu Gesheng smiled and waved his hand leisurely. "With war looming and the seven families in turmoil, these past few days I've thought it over carefully and felt overwhelmed by the countless complications. But now that I'm truly back, it all seems insignificant—after all, you’re all here."

The two stood together under the corridor. Mu Gesheng looked up at the eaves. "Do you know, this morning I sang The Romance of the Western Chamber with Third Brother."

“Mm.”

"I remember that winter, the first time you stayed in the study for the New Year. Third Brother played the pipa, you played a Su flute, and the entire twenty-one scenes of The Romance of the Western Chamber were sung through the whole night."

“At the time, I was thinking, year after year like this, just singing on and on, until the fifth brother grows up, and we can have him play the strings.”

“Who would have thought there wouldn’t be a next time.” Mu Gesheng said with a smile, “Once all the vibrant blossoms bloom, they end up abandoned in broken wells and crumbling walls. Who is there to appreciate these beautiful moments and scenes?”

Chai Shuxin was silent for a moment, then said, “You sing.”

“Hm?”

“I’m listening.”

“That won’t do. After spending the whole morning singing with Third Brother, you’d better get an early start tomorrow.”

“In a few days, when all seven families gather, you’ll be the next Tiansuanci. Even if you have them lugging around folding stools to listen to your storytelling, no one will object.”

“Ha, good idea. Why not gather at Guanshan Yue? Let me think about what to sing—Zhang Sheng Disturbs the Early Dawn?”

"......"

"Don't keep such a stiff face. Look, even the third brother can get up and tell stories on stage. We can't always be so uptight, right? How about playing some mahjong?"

"The six of us together aren't enough for two tables."

"Fine, even if the Rakshasa appeared in the world, it's no big deal. Seven families, two tables, and we're still one short."

"...Don't treat this as a game."

The two descended the mountain together. Mu Gesheng had intended to invite Chai Shuxin to sit for a while at Yeshui Zhuhua. "The war has already begun, and the Medicine family is overwhelmed with affairs. There are elders at home waiting for me to return and discuss matters." Chai Shuxin shook her head. "Another day, you come over, and I'll treat you to a premium hotpot."

"By the way, I forgot to ask about Sister Chai." Mu Gesheng tapped his forehead. "In your letter, you mentioned that her health had improved. How has she been lately?"

"Chronic illnesses and old wounds cannot be uprooted overnight," Chai Shuxin said, her brows and eyes relaxing a little. "But she is on the path to recovery."

"That's excellent," Mu Gesheng said with a smile. "I'll come by for a meal another day—remember to save me a window seat."

Chai Shuxin still recalled the absurd times when this person would climb through windows without hesitation, but said nothing, only shaking his head. "The formation in the Jiuzhe Corridor has been altered. Be careful when you come in."

"Don't worry, that's nothing to me," Mu Gesheng said carelessly, waving his hand. "I'm off now. If I'm any later, the second brother and the others won't save me any food. We'll meet up another day."

Before Mu Gesheng could enter the city, he noticed a car parked by the roadside. Under the moonlight, he caught sight of the license plate and his expression froze.

The car window rolled down halfway, and a deep male voice said, "Get in."

Mu Gesheng quickly opened the door and got in, pulling the curtain closed. He said, "Weren't you supposed to attend the national defense meeting? Why are you back so early?"

The man sitting in the front seat smiled and tossed him a bottle of soda. "Studying abroad for a few years, I wonder if your taste has changed."

"Then you should have sent a letter to ask me," Mu Gesheng caught it with one hand and said helplessly, "Dad." —

Author's note:

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 be liberated. — From "The Linji Record"