Chapter 39: Cursing the Locust Tree
Chen Ping'an thought that from now on, if he went to touch the stones during the day, he could start from Liu Xianyang's side and work his way upstream all the way to that covered bridge. So tonight he chose a spot further upstream from where he had first entered the water, which would keep him far away from the covered bridge and from that green cliff the locals called Qingniu Back—the place where Chen Ping'an had first seen the girl in green. And thus he missed the meeting between Song Jixin and the supervisor.
Above the covered bridge hung a plaque with the four characters "Feng Sheng Shui Qi" — "Wind Rises, Waters Stir."
The man in white robes and jade belt was nominally the Dragon Kiln supervisor, but in truth he was the most powerful vassal king in the Great Li Dynasty. Under his lead, Song Jixin came to the bottom of the covered bridge steps. Before arriving, he had not only bathed and changed clothes at the official residence, but also hung a scented pouch and a dragon-shaped jade pendant of ordinary material, dull in color and inconspicuous. In contrast, the Old Dragon Bestowing Rain jade pendant, which was superior in texture, appearance, and symbolic meaning, had been forcibly removed by that man, who absolutely forbade him from wearing it.
Song Jixin held three incense sticks in his hands. The youth stood at the bottom of the steps, at a loss.
The Great Li vassal king Song Changjing turned around, reached out a hand, and gently rubbed two fingers over the tips of the three incense sticks, lighting them.
The man said casually, "Kneel, face the plaque, knock your head three times, then stick the incense into the ground. That's it."
Although Song Jixin was full of doubts, he did as this "uncle" who had descended from the sky instructed: he knelt, holding the incense, and kowtowed three times.
Though the man spoke lightly, after the youth knelt, his expression turned grave and extremely complex. As he watched the spot where the youth kowtowed, a deep-seated loathing flickered in his eyes.
After inserting the three incense sticks into the ground and rising, Song Jixin asked, "Is it all right to offer incense here?"
The man smiled. "It's just going through the motions. Don't take it too seriously. Starting now, you'd better learn to play along with the charade. Otherwise, you'll be running around like a headless chicken later."
The man's smile faded. "But don't forget either: this covered bridge is your... place of dragon's rise."
Song Jixin's lips were dark purple—whether from the late spring chill or not. The youth forced a relaxed tone. "Those four words—aren't they a bit too much to toss around casually?"
The man patted his belly with one hand and adjusted the white jade belt at his waist with the other, laughing heartily. "In the capital, of course they would be. But here it's fine. There are neither court hounds nor wild dogs from the martial world, and no one will come biting at me."
Song Jixin asked curiously, "Are you afraid of being criticized too?"
The man retorted, "In the Great Li Dynasty, I've already fought all comers, both in court and out, and never met my match. If I had nothing at all to fear, wouldn't that make me more comfortable than the man sitting on the dragon throne? Boy, do you think that's proper?"
Song Jixin thought for a moment, then, after some hesitation, steeled himself to ask, "Are you hiding your light under a bushel? Or are you fostering enemies to enhance your own importance?"
The man laughed dryly, then pointed at the sharp-tongued youth and shook his head. "Such treasonous words, and you dare to utter them. You have no sense of gravity or consequence. Whether you go to the capital later, or take refuge in some mountain immortal's mansion to lie low for a while, let me give you a piece of advice: don't be so reckless in words and deeds, or you'll certainly court disaster."
Song Jixin nodded. "I'll remember that."
The man pointed to the golden plaque. "'Wind Rises, Waters Stir.' Tell me, boy: when the waters stir, how do they stir?"
Song Jixin answered bluntly, "I don't know."
The man muttered, "'When you know, you know; when you don't, you don't. That is knowledge.' What nonsense! Scholars are all devious—even a fart has to take nine turns and eighteen bends."
But facing the youth, the man was a bit more refined. "If I remember correctly, in the three thousand years of your little town, no matter how great the flood, the highest water level of this stream has never risen above the tip of the rusty sword hanging under the bridge."
Song Jixin said doubtfully, "The old folks living near the Iron Lock Well in Apricot Blossom Alley often tell us this under the locust tree. Is there really a hidden meaning in it?"
The man pointed into the far distance, toward the place where the stream left the mountains. "In the forests, snakes have their paths; in the houses, rats have their holes. And in rivers, streams, and creeks, dragons have their ways."
He withdrew his hand and explained patiently, "In many other places in the Great Li Dynasty, there is also the custom of hanging swords under bridges. But those brass coin swords, peachwood swords, or talisman swords can often block a mountain python or forest python's entry into the river only once, never a second time. Many who hang such swords are of shallow cultivation, and can't even withstand the power of a single river crossing, which instead angers the dragon-like creatures in the floodwaters. So after the flood passes, the bridge—which might otherwise have stood—collapses, and the sword is gone without a trace. But this particular sword here..."
The man stopped mid-sentence and fell silent.
Song Jixin held back from pressing further.
The man sighed. "Alone among all swords, from the very first day it was hung beneath this bridge, it was not meant to ward off dragons crossing rivers. It was placed by a sage to seal the exit of the Dragon Lock Well. The so-called exit is the deep pool beneath the bridge, to prevent the dragon's energy from dissipating too quickly and violently tearing this small world apart."
Song Jixin cut to the chase. "The last true dragon under heaven—is it truly dead or not?"
Song Changjing laughed. "In the dragon-slaying war three thousand years ago, countless qi refiners died, and many sages from the Three Teachings and hundred schools of thought fell as well. Do you think they all had holes in their heads, or that the sages lived their long lives in vain? Deliberately keeping the last true dragon alive, raising it like some ordinary bird, flower, or fish?"
Song Jixin retorted, "Maybe they couldn't completely kill that true dragon? They had to use stalling tactics and gradual erosion. I don't know the original intentions and plans of the sages from millennia ago, but I can guess that the true dragon was definitely not simple!"
The man shook his head, then nodded. "You're half right. The true dragon is certainly dead. As for its true identity and symbolic meaning, the word 'not simple' can hardly bear that weight."
Song Jixin seemed to want to speak but stopped.
"Anyway, all the Great Li's schemes, all the painstaking effort, were only for 'raising the wind and stirring the waters'—for the future great enterprise of marching south."
The man was the first to step up onto the bridge, speaking slowly. "If you ask me why the sages of three thousand years ago wanted to slay the dragon, I can't answer you. But if you ask why you were left here, and why you are the honored legitimate prince of the Great Li, then I can tell you the truth in full detail."
Song Jixin hung his head, his expression unreadable.
The youth didn't ask, so the man naturally didn't volunteer. When he reached the top step, he turned to face the town. "In the future, broaden your mind. Getting into petty quarrels with the likes of Liu Xianyang, even wanting to kill him—aren't you cheapening yourself?"
Song Jixin sat on the top step, looking north with the man, and asked a completely unrelated question. "Our Great Li is at the northernmost end of Eastern Treasured Vial Continent?"
The man nodded. "Yes. We've been regarded as northern barbarians for nearly a thousand years. Now it's only because our fists are hard enough that we've earned a little respect."
Song Jixin still kept his head lowered, but his eyes burned.
The man named Song Changjing said flatly, "When you reach the capital, be wary of a man nicknamed 'Embroidery Tiger.'"
Song Jixin was completely baffled.
Song Changjing smiled. "He is now our Great Li's national teacher, and also the teacher of your younger brother. Our Great Li, in the last fifty years, has expanded from seventy commanderies and eight hundred cities at its founding, to one hundred and forty commanderies and fifteen hundred cities. This man deserves half the credit."
Song Jixin suddenly looked up.
The man grinned. "Boy, you guessed right."
The man also sat down on the steps, resting his hands on his knees, gazing into the distance.
The other hero who had expanded Great Li's territory was obviously "far away but near at hand."
In that moment, Song Jixin's whole body trembled, and his scalp went numb.
They sat in silence for a long time. Then Song Jixin suddenly spoke. "Uncle, I did want to kill Liu Xianyang. I even considered making a deal with Fu Nanhua of Old Dragon City to have him find a way to kill Liu Xianyang. But I never felt that a Liu Xianyang was qualified to stand on equal footing with me, even if he has an ancient family heritage. I wanted to kill him only because killing him wouldn't cost me much. That's all."
Song Changjing showed some interest. "So you have another hang-up?"
The youth touched his neck and fell silent.
---
In the dead of night, all was silent.
Someone was still walking the streets of the little town. Her figure was slender, her clothes thin. When she passed by the Iron Lock Well in Apricot Blossom Alley, she gritted her teeth. When she passed under the memorial arch, she even kicked a stone pillar hard. Finally, she came to the old locust tree with its luxuriant branches and leaves. According to the old folks, this tree had lived for who knows how long, and no matter when dead branches fell, they never hit anyone—it was said to be highly spiritual.
The girl who swaggered to the bottom of the tree naturally scoffed at such claims.
She opened the ancient book she had borrowed from her young master and began "searching by map."
She called out names one by one, like a general reviewing troops on an autumn field.
When her throat was a little dry, she stopped calling names. Holding the local chronicle that Song Jixin called a "book from beyond the wall" in one hand, she pointed at the locust tree with the other and shouted up, "You don't take a hint when it's offered, do you?!"
There was no sound, no reply.
The girl immediately stamped her foot and cursed, "Four surnames, ten clans—let's start with the four surnames: Lu, Li, Zhao, Song! You four big families, show some sense and hurry up! Each surname drops at least three locust leaves. If one leaf is missing, I, Wang Zhu, will never forgive you in this lifetime! Once I get out, I'll settle accounts with each of you one by one—whether you're young or old, men, women, or children—all of you ungrateful white-eyed wolves! You think you're justified in being so thankless?!"
The girl cursed until she was out of breath, one hand on her hip, still muttering, "And the Song family! The Great Li Dynasty owes its name to you—who is the greatest contributor? Don't you know in your hearts? Still playing dumb with me? Do you believe that the moment I get out, I'll make sure Great Li is surnamed Lu or Zhao or anything else, just not Song?!"
"Ten great clans—each surname gives two leaves. For the rest of the ordinary surnames, at least one leaf. Of course, if anyone has the guts to bet big, the more the merrier—I swear I'll make sure they profit handsomely!"
"Among the ten clans, the Cao family—yes, the one that produced that bastard Cao Xi! That brat wouldn't do a single decent thing in his life, full of mischief even when he was still wearing split-crotch pants! Besides your two leaves, you must give me one extra as compensation, or I swear, Wang Zhu, that once I get out, I'll make sure Cao Xi dies without descendants! How dare he pee into the well? That kind of scum—how did he become the true lord of a nation?!"
"And the Xie family! You have a fellow named Xie Shi, right? Mm, I have some ties with him. If it weren't for me, he would have been washed away by the flood long ago. So if you don't give me an extra leaf, can that be justified?"
In the distance, Qi Jingchun watched the scene under the locust tree in silence, saying nothing.
He looked like a stern father who only knows how to spank his child, somewhat helpless as he watched a child who grew more spoiled with age.
But when he saw the girl flipping through the book, and the locust leaves drifting down from the branches one after another, landing between the pages, Qi Jingchun felt some comfort.
A thousand words, ten thousand thoughts, and finally Qi Jingchun only murmured, "After you leave home, take good care of yourself."
The girl seemed to sense something and suddenly turned her head.
There was no one.
The girl felt a pang of loss. She shook her head, put the thought aside, and turned back to continue cursing the locust tree.