Chapter Fifteen: Suppression
Just as the boy in straw sandals walked out of Mud Vase Alley, he happened to run into Song Jixin’s maidservant, Zhigui. After escorting that tall woman to Gu Can’s house, she hadn’t hurried home. Instead, she took a detour through the alley and wandered among the small shops in Apricot Flower Alley. Although she hadn’t bought anything, her mood was still good. She skipped along the way, light and cheerful.
A girl who grew up in the wild waters of the countryside, seemingly carrying the fragrance of green grass, was naturally different in bearing from those young ladies raised in high-eaved mansions and deep courtyards.
When she saw the straw-sandaled boy, she did not lower her eyes and quicken her pace to pass by sideways as she usually did. Instead, she stopped, staring at this neighbor she rarely interacted with, hesitating to speak.
Chen Ping’an smiled at her, then trotted past her shoulder, running faster and faster.
Zhigui stood quietly at the entrance of Mud Vase Alley, turning her head to look. The shabby boy running in the sunlight was quite like a wildcat with tenacious vitality, scurrying everywhere. He wasn’t much to look at, but it seemed he wouldn’t starve.
The girl was not well-liked in the small town. Burdened by the strange temperament of the young master Song Jixin, the maidservant named Zhigui, whether fetching water from the Iron Lock Well, going to market to buy things, or purchasing stationery for her young master, always gave people an unsociable impression. She had no peers to play with and never spoke much to acquaintances. For townsfolk who favored liveliness and celebration, such a girl was truly hard to get close to.
In this regard, Chen Ping’an’s situation was somewhat similar to that of the maidservant Zhigui. The difference was that although the boy also didn’t talk much, his nature was definitely not off-putting. On the contrary, he was gentle and friendly by nature, never showing any sharp edges. It was just that his family had fallen on hard times, and he had gone early to the Dragon Kiln to fire pottery for a living, which made him seem less familiar with the neighbors. Of course, the folks in Mud Vase Alley did have some inexplicable wariness about the boy’s birthday. The fifth day of the fifth month, according to local customs, was an “evil day” when the five poisons emerge. That he was born on this day, along with the successive deaths of his parents, leaving him the last lone sprout of his family, naturally made people uneasy. Especially the elderly, who liked to gather around the old locust tree to enjoy the excitement, were particularly distant toward the boy from Mud Vase Alley. Privately, they would warn their own children not to get close, but whenever the children pestered them with questions, the old folks couldn’t give a clear reason.
At that moment, a tall figure emerged from the alley and stood beside the girl. The maidservant Zhigui turned her head, said nothing, and simply walked forward. The man turned and walked beside her down Mud Vase Alley. It was the schoolteacher Qi Jingchun, the only scholar in the small town, a genuine Confucian disciple.
The girl did not stop walking, her face cold. “You and I, well water and river water, each keeping to their own, isn’t that fine? And don’t forget, Mister. Before, you truly had the advantage of time, place, and people. As a lowly slave in a base registry, I could only swallow my anger. But starting recently, it seems your dharma lineage dojo, far away who knows how many millions of miles, has run into some trouble, hasn’t it? So now, you’re the well water, and I’m the river water!”
The uninvited guest in Mud Vase Alley, Master Qi, smiled slightly and said, “Wang Zhu, never mind. For now, let’s follow local custom and call you Zhigui. Zhigui, have you ever considered that although you are favored by heaven and earth, born of destiny, do you truly think I have no means of suppression? Or do you think that thousands of years ago, when the four sages who showed neither head nor tail came here together to personally establish the rules, that they were just talking and left no contingency? In the end, you are merely looking at the sky from the bottom of a well. The vastness of the heavens and the breadth of the earth are far beyond the little view at the mouth of that well.”
The girl frowned. “Master Qi, don’t try to scare me with words. I’m not my young master Song Jixin. I have no interest in your high-sounding rhetoric, and I’ve never believed it. Why don’t you speak plainly? Whether we fight to the death or part on good terms, I can take it.”
The middle-aged Confucian said slowly, “I advise you, after you break free from this cage, not to push your advantage too far or drain the pond to catch all the fish. That would benefit no one. Especially after you and he step onto the path of cultivation, whether you become Dao companions or not, you should restrain your sharpness and not be overbearing or tyrannical. This is not a threat, but some heartfelt words at parting, a kindly reminder.”
Given their vastly different statuses, the maidservant Zhigui was surprisingly neither servile nor overbearing. In fact, her momentum seemed to slightly outweigh that of the Confucian. She sneered, “Kindly? For thousands of years, you great cultivators have been high above, drawing boundaries and treating this place like a farm field, cutting one crop this year and pulling another bundle next year, year after year, for a millennium. How is it that only now do you start thinking about being ‘kind to others’ with me, a foul creature? I’ve heard my young master say a phrase that many of you hold as a golden rule: ‘If one is not of my kind, his heart must be different.’ Right? So I don’t blame Master Qi, after all…”
Master Qi continued walking, taking a light step forward, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Oh?”
One step later.
The maidservant Zhigui’s expression changed slightly.
The two of them had somehow arrived in a place pitch black, so dark they couldn’t see their hands in front of them. Only far above their heads, countless rays of light with a sacred aura streamed down.
They felt as if they were at the bottom of a bottomless well. The golden sunlight slowly fell from the mouth of the well.
The middle-aged Confucian wore a blue robe, with flowing brilliance shimmering over the fabric, ceaselessly swirling.
A righteous aura, upright and bright.
The girl’s face twisted fiercely at first, but soon returned to a numb, indifferent expression. She murmured, “Sixty years of Buddhist chanting, like thunder in my ears, unceasing. Sixty years of Daoist talismans, like maggots clinging to bone, gnawing fiercely. Sixty years of righteous Confucian energy, covering the sky and blotting out the sun, nowhere to hide. Sixty years of military strategist’s sword aura, like earth-oxen turning over, splattering everywhere. Every sixty-year cycle is a reincarnation. Three thousand years in total, never a day of peace… I just want to know where your so-called Great Dao root lies. I can see and hear the black words on white paper in Mister’s books, and the subtle meanings in Mister’s teachings, but I cannot find them…”
She gazed dazedly at the righteous middle-aged man. He was both an obscure and nameless teacher in a remote village and Qi Jingchun of the Cliff Academy of Confucianism, a scholar whom even the powerful eunuchs of the Great Sui Dynasty respectfully called “Mister.”
The girl suddenly smiled and asked, “How can Mister teach me to be good? If I remember correctly, your Confucian Supreme Sage and one of the Dao Ancestors both put forward ‘education without distinction’?”
The man shook his head. “Telling you ten thousand words of sage teachings is useless.”
The girl seemed to be chatting casually with the Confucian, but in reality, she was like a taut bowstring, her peripheral vision constantly scanning the surroundings, looking for any clue to break the situation.
The Confucian ignored this and sneered, “I know you have endless rage, resentment, and murderous intent. It’s not that I cannot tolerate outliers, but you should know that casually showing compassion and indiscriminately dispensing mercy has never been the true doctrine of the three teachings.”
“My young master often says that arguing principles with scholars is the most boring thing.” The girl curled her lips and narrowed her eyes, those eerie golden double pupils. “So Master Qi is truly in his final radiance now. Naturally, that makes him even harder to deal with than before…”
He laughed it off. “If reasoning fails, that’s fine. But as long as I, Qi Jingchun, am alive for one day, and qualified to sit here for one day, you ungrateful wretch, don’t think you can show your claws and bare your fangs!”
The girl pointed at herself and laughed. “Me? Ungrateful?”
The middle-aged Confucian said angrily, “Back then, in your weakest moment, you had to bow your head and willingly enter a contract. Who was it that saved you on that snowy day in Mud Vase Alley? And who has been gradually draining the last of his remaining fortune all these years?!”
The girl chuckled. “If you’re hungry, you find something to eat and fill your belly. Isn’t that a matter of course? Besides, he never had much great fortune anyway. Die early and be reborn early, maybe he’ll have a faint hope in his next life. If he was left floating like duckweed in this town, hah, then he’d really be…”
The Confucian swept his sleeve and softly shouted, “Enough!”
The scholar roared, “The profundity of the Great Dao and the brightness of heavenly principles—how can you judge them with a single word? Everyone has their own destiny and karmic opportunities. What right do you have to make choices for others?!”
Above the girl’s head, a golden hand materialized out of thin air, majestic in power, like a Buddha’s palm subduing a demon, or a Dao Ancestor’s hand suppressing an evil spirit. It swiftly pressed down on the girl’s head, forcing her to kneel instantly, her forehead striking the ground heavily.
The sound of her knocking her head was loud.
With her head bowed, the girl supported herself on the ground with her hands, struggling to rise. With her face hidden, she let out a sinister laugh. “You can force me to bow my head, but I will never admit I’m wrong!”
That golden hand, overflowing with formidable might, grabbed the girl’s head, lifting it and then pressing it down again—another kowtow.
This time, the sound was as heavy as a spring thunderclap.
The Confucian said sternly, “Don’t forget! That sliver of a chance for life was given to you by the sages; it was not earned by you! Otherwise, forget suppressing you for three thousand years—what difficulty would sixty thousand be?!”
The girl, whose head was still held down, said hoarsely, “I won’t walk your damned Great Dao!”
The Confucian raised his arm high and slammed it down upon the void before him. “How dare you! Be suppressed!”
In the center of the golden light falling from the well mouth, a square white jade seal materialized, about ten feet in both length and width. The seal was engraved with eight ancient characters, with some extremely bright red, eye-catching infused colors. Countless purple lightning bolts coiled around the seal, crackling.
As Qi Jingchun gave the command—truly what is called “words become law”—the enormous seal descended from the sky, smashing onto the back of the girl who was already kneeling on the ground.
This enormous seal, suffused with heavenly authority, seemed not to be a physical object. It did not press the girl flat to the ground, but instead, carrying wind and thunder, quickly embedded itself into the earth and vanished without a trace, like a heavy cloud with little rain.
But an instant later, the girl’s whole body seemed shattered by a heavy object, her bones and flesh crushed. She collapsed onto the ground like a pile of mud, utterly miserable.
Even so, one of the girl’s hands curled into claws, using all her strength, her fingernails seemed to carve words into the ground.
Qi Jingchun’s expression was impassive. He said coldly, “Three kowtows—one to revere Heaven and Earth! One to revere all living beings! One to revere the Great Dao!”
The girl’s eyes were vacant, with no response.
Qi Jingchun lightly flicked his sleeve, dispersing that suffocating, majestic presence. “I, Qi Jingchun, am but a pedantic Confucian under the sages’ gate, and I can force you to knock your head three times. Once you get out, if you do whatever you please, aren’t you afraid of encountering an entity even more unreasonable than you, who could crush you with a single finger?”
Qi Jingchun sighed. “Here, you are indeed suppressed and imprisoned, without freedom. But have you ever considered that there is no such thing as absolute freedom in this world? When our Confucian Supreme Sage established all kinds of rituals, was he not seeking another kind of freedom for the myriad creatures? As long as you do not cross the line, do not violate the rules, and abide by propriety, then one day, when heaven is vast and earth is broad, where can you not go?”
The girl raised her head, staring fixedly at the middle-aged Confucian.
Qi Jingchun took a step.
Heaven and earth returned to normal. He and the maidservant Zhigui were back in Mud Vase Alley. The sunlight was warm, the spring breeze gentle.
The girl staggered to her feet, her smile pallid, slightly baring her grim teeth. “This slave will remember Mister’s lesson today.”
Qi Jingchun said no more and turned to leave.
She suddenly asked, “Even if I am ungrateful to Chen Ping’an, why does Mister, as an outstanding disciple of the sages, stand by and do nothing? Why do you only favor your disciple Zhao Yao and my young master, while treating the ordinary Chen Ping’an as just so-so? Isn’t this no different from a merchant doing business—if the goods are rare, you nurture them carefully; if the goods are coarse, you deal with them perfunctorily, not caring whether they fetch a good price?”
Qi Jingchun smiled. “As Heaven’s movement is ever vigorous, so must a gentleman ceaselessly strive for self-reliance.”
The girl was dazed.
When the middle-aged Confucian’s figure disappeared at the end of the alley, the girl’s face immediately filled with contempt. She gave a fierce spit.
She limped back toward her own courtyard. When she passed Chen Ping’an’s house, she wrinkled her nose and furrowed her brow. She felt a little confused. But because that damned scholar’s cultivation was collapsing, the town was now leaking heavenly secrets everywhere, like a boat with many holes. She could barely take care of herself and had to plan carefully for the future, so she couldn’t be bothered to dwell on it.
When she pushed open the courtyard gate, a four-legged snake that looked rough and unremarkable darted out from some corner, quickly crawling to her feet. She kicked it away in a huff.
—
Inside Chen Ping’an’s house, the young Daoist sat upright at the table, his eyes watching his nose and his nose watching his heart.
The black-clad girl, who had been on the verge of death not long ago, was now able to sit on the bed by herself, crossing her legs. She had not put on her veiled hat, revealing a face that was deeply memorable.
It wasn’t that the girl was breathtakingly beautiful, but that she was so fierce and spirited that it largely made one forget the excellence of her features.
Her eyebrows were not like willow leaves but like narrow knives.
When she looked at the young Daoist with a scrutinizing air, he became unusually uneasy. Even though he had done nothing wrong, he felt somehow guilty.
The young Daoist coughed and quickly cleared things up. “Miss, let me explain first. The person who saved you is me, but the one who carried you into the house, took off your hat, washed your face, and so on—that was someone else. His name is Chen Ping’an, the owner of this dilapidated house. He’s a poor, charcoal-black boy. Both his parents are dead. He used to be a kiln worker firing pottery, and he even asked me for a talisman paper once. That’s roughly all there is. Miss, if there’s anything else you want to ask, I’ll tell you everything I know without holding anything back.”
And just like that, the straw-sandaled boy was sold out completely.
The girl nodded, not angry at all. Instead, she generously and sincerely said, “Thank you, Daoist, for saving my life.”
The young Daoist, whose heart was now pounding even harder, forced a smile. “No problem, no problem. A simple effort. I’m glad you’re safe, miss.”
The black-clad girl asked, “Daoist, you’re not from East Treasure Bottle Continent, are you?”
The young Daoist countered, “And you’re not either, right?”
She hummed in affirmation.
The Daoist also hummed in response.
The young Daoist with the lotus crown on his head smiled and said, “My surname is Lu, my given name Chen. I have no Daoist name. You can just call me Daoist Lu.”
The girl nodded gently, glancing at the young Daoist’s crown.
The young Daoist hesitated for a moment, then gathered his courage and said, “That boy may have been somewhat improper in some ways, but urgent matters call for flexible measures. And I never expected you to recover so quickly. So if there was anything offensive, I hope you won’t take it to heart.”
The girl smiled. “Daoist Lu, I’m not an unreasonable person.”
The young Daoist laughed awkwardly. “That’s good, that’s good.”
The girl raised an eyebrow, and the young Daoist’s smile immediately stiffened into a fixed expression.
She looked around the room, her gaze calm.
She said casually, “I heard that the continent’s number one sword forger, ‘Master Ruan,’ plans to open a furnace here to forge swords. I followed all the way here, hoping he could make a sword for me.”
The young Daoist sighed. “If it really is him, getting him to personally forge a sword won’t be easy.”
The black-clad girl was clearly troubled too. “It’s very difficult.”
Just then, the boy walked in. In his left hand he carried a bundle of medicinal herbs, and in his right hand a small bag. He knocked symbolically on the door before quickly stepping over the threshold. He placed the herbs on the table and said softly, “Daoist, please check if I got the right ones. If not, I’ll go exchange them right away.”
The boy kept holding the bag and turned to look at the girl. The black-clad girl, sitting cross-legged on the wooden bed, met the straw-sandaled boy’s gaze.
The black-clad girl said calmly, “Hello. My father’s surname is Ning, my mother’s surname is Yao, so my name is Ning Yao.”
The straw-sandaled boy said instinctively, “Hello. My father’s surname is Chen, and my mother’s surname is also Chen, so…”
The boy looked a little embarrassed, but quickly smiled frankly. “My name is Chen Ping’an!”