Layers of Enigmas

Ding Songyan had picked up his writing brush, intending to polish the earlier part of the story, but now it hovered motionless over the paper. A drop of ink nearly fell, betraying the sheer shock and tumultuous thoughts churning within him. None of the imperial courts or major sects possessed a complete copy of The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas, yet he seemed to have one in his hands? Well, Zhen Manor must have gotten their hands on Chen Yuliang's copy as well... What qualifications did Chen Yuliang have to judge whether that copy of The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas was genuine or complete? If it truly was complete—or nearly so—where did this edition of The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas come from? The enigmas and dangers lurking behind this were probably far more numerous and terrifying than he had ever imagined! Earlier, he had even thought of using this relatively complete copy of The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas to trade for an opportunity to join the Xiaoming Sect. Looking at it now, while the Xiaoming Sect would certainly value the content, what they would care about even more was who had produced this edition and where it came from... Ding Songyan steadied his nerves and set brush to paper, jotting down a few good lines of dialogue he had just conceived so Xiaoqing wouldn't notice the tempest raging inside him. Xiaoqing, meanwhile, was rereading the heartbreaking scene between Xu Xian and Xu Shilin over and over, never once looking up. Having written down those lines, Ding Songyan frowned slightly. Chen Yuliang's copy of The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas should have fallen into the hands of Zhen Manor, and the aftermath of Xu Chang'an's master's death was also under Zhen Manor's control. Yet both matters had sunk like stones into the sea, without a single ripple or follow-up since... Before, he had assumed it was a relatively common version, and with a grandmaster in residence, Zhen Manor might take such things in stride, making the lack of aftermath seem normal enough. But seeing how rare this edition of The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas was now—it might even be one of a kind—did Zhen Manor really find nothing amiss? Were they truly incurious about its origins? Did they really have no intention of questioning him and Xu Chang'an further? Er, was Mr. Yu tailing him over this, rather than having anything to do with that "honored guest"? Aside from that, Xiaoqing's side and the Zhenling Sect, represented by Ren Youyang, had both come for Zhen Manor as well... Zhen Manor also harbored an exceedingly mysterious and suspicious "honored guest"... They told him to keep it strictly confidential, yet imposed no restrictions whatsoever—they hadn't even made him sign a written pledge... At this thought, Ding Songyan suddenly regretted taking on the assignment of storytelling for that "honored guest." He felt that dark clouds were gathering over Zhen Manor; a major upheaval was bound to occur. Back when he had just graduated from university, he would have jumped in with excitement, convinced that his wit and intelligence would steer him clear of danger and reap rewards—the bigger the storm, the dearer the fish. Now, however, battered by the brutal beatings of reality, he only wanted to stay far away, wait until the crisis fully erupted and everything blew to pieces, and then see if there was a chance to scavenge some scraps. Hiss... should he speed up the pace, finish the storytelling for the honored guest as early as possible, and make a clean getaway? Ding Songyan pondered. Xiaoqing put down the sheets of paper and spoke with a pronounced nasal twang, "When Xu Shilin was bitterly pleading outside the door and wasn't allowed inside, I really wanted to curse Xu Xian. But seeing Xu Xian in such agony behind the door, I felt... sigh... "It reminded me of a lyric you sang earlier: 'Without destined affinity, hands cannot clasp even face-to-face.' "Adding another line would suit this scene perfectly: "'Without destined affinity, hands cannot clasp even face-to-face; henceforth, though our paths may cross, we meet no more.'" You're quite the poet... Ding Songyan turned it over in his mind. "That's a wonderful line. Would it be all right if I added it to the storybook?" He needed to give his "God of Wealth" a stronger sense of involvement. "Sure!" Having gained his approval, Xiaoqing shook off some of her melancholy. Adopting an air of casual banter, Ding Songyan said, "The other day, when I heard people mention The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas, they said copies used to be everywhere before the various imperial courts, sects, and prominent clans destroyed them and kept them for private collections. I never realized it was an 'esoteric transmission' from the very beginning, and only later leaked out into the jianghu." "Jianghu rumors are always like that, mixing truth and falsehood, with far more lies than facts," Xiaoqing dismissed lightly. "Besides, a tall tree catches the wind. People in the jianghu love reviling the top factions, blaming every problem on them. They wouldn't dare say it to their faces, but they certainly have the courage to wag their tongues behind their backs." She rose, waved goodbye to Ding Songyan, and vanished into the room like evening smoke. Ding Songyan felt as though he had just awakened from a dream, or watched illusions of flowers in a mirror and the moon reflected in water dissolve. He tidied away his paper, brushes, ink, and wooden chests, blew out the oil lamp, and lay down in bed. Staring up at the ceiling beams bathed in dim, drifting moonlight, he thought things through in meticulous detail. He thought of the past, of the present, of the many overlooked details, and of what the future might hold. ... The next day. As they reached Fengshui Bridge, Xu Chang'an glanced sideways at Ding Songyan. "Second Brother Ding, didn't you sleep well last night?" Ding Songyan rubbed the slightly puffy bags under his eyes and smiled wryly. "Perhaps because I've been telling The Legend of the White Snake so often lately, I actually dreamed of a thick, massive white snake chasing after me." "Thinking of it by day, dreaming of it by night, that's all," Xu Chang'an consoled him. Today he wore a light-colored plain zhiduo robe paired with a four-square peace cap; the thievish, beady-eyed cast to his features had faded considerably. Stepping onto the stone bridge, Ding Songyan changed the subject. "You're not working today?" "With my master's money, I wouldn't need to work for two years," Xu Chang'an replied with a grin. "Second Brother Ding, you were right before. How could someone aspiring to be a master thief steal from an old granny selling fruits and vegetables, or a poor scholar writing letters for people?" When food and clothing are sufficient, one learns honor and shame. Xu Chang'an then looked a bit troubled. "I'm planning to tour the various martial arts halls to see if there are any techniques suited for my training and future career as a master thief. Fortunately, I haven't begun aperture refinement yet, so I don't have to worry about clashing martial arts. "It's just that doing so means the money won't last two years..." "The boat will right itself when it reaches the bridgehead. Learn first, then worry about money later." Ding Songyan had originally intended to ask Mr. Yu today when his arrangements to join a martial arts hall for body tempering and qi refinement would be made, but he had grown somewhat apprehensive about going to Zhen Manor. Outwardly calm yet inwardly restless, he looked at Xu Chang'an and gave him a casual scare: "It's a good thing you're not working lately. Your master has a bit of a reputation at the yamen. When my father came home from duty yesterday, he mentioned that Constable Xue knows your master offended Zhen Manor and fled to the ends of the earth. He plans to rein in you little rascals so that, even without supervision, you don't act too recklessly. Make sure you don't end up being the chicken slaughtered to warn the monkeys." A few more scares ought to set you straight once and for all. Xu Chang'an's face drained of color in an instant, and he stammered, "I understand, I understand!" As an inconsequential petty thief, the person he had always feared most was Constable Xue Zhangjian. Wait, are you really that easily frightened? Seeing Xu Chang'an's exaggerated reaction, Ding Songyan asked with amused curiosity, "What year were you born?" Could he just look older than he is? "I was born in early spring of the eighteenth year of Xingping." Xu Chang'an had no idea why Second Brother Ding was suddenly asking this out of nowhere. Ding Songyan froze for a moment. "And you call me Second Brother?" He's more than a year older than this body of mine! "You're Sister Qingyan's elder brother," Xu Chang'an said, wearing a look that asked what could possibly be wrong with that. "Besides, over these past few days, I've constantly felt that you truly ought to be the elder brother. You're calmer than me, smarter than me, have better foresight, and have far broader horizons." Stop flattering me... back when I was twenty, aside from being clever, I had none of those qualities... Ding Songyan waved the hand carrying his bamboo basket and parted ways with Xu Chang'an on the other side of Fengshui Bridge—one heading to Duokang Temple, the other off to visit martial arts halls. Xiaoqing and her maid had arrived early outside Duokang Temple as usual, waiting for the storytelling. As Ding Songyan recounted the events of Xu Shilin's childhood and youth following yesterday's outline, he felt the character was not fleshed out enough. So, he incorporated several experiences from his own youth: getting addicted to games and being whipped back onto the right path by his parents; watching a murder crime scene and nearly getting bowled over by a fleeing criminal who was hiding nearby; going fishing in the mountains and nearly stepping into an electric fishing trap... These anecdotes were disguised and refashioned to fit the ancient setting and Xu Shilin's character: Relying on his inborn godlike strength, he had bullied fellow disciples at the martial arts hall, only to gradually learn right from wrong through his aunt's tears and uncle's stern reprimands; crossing paths with a fugitive wanted by the yamen, "Zheng Guanxi," the young boy had bravely stepped forward and killed him in three punches; going fishing in the mountains, he had encountered a fierce tiger, leapt onto its back, and pummeled it senseless... Enriched with such vivid details, when the brave, resolute, and sensible Xu Shilin wept and pounded on the door, begging to see Xu Xian just once, the listeners in the audience wiped away tears. And when Ding Songyan recited the closing verse—"Without destined affinity, hands cannot clasp even face-to-face; henceforth, though our paths may cross, we meet no more"—some among the crowd even burst into audible sobs. "You tell it even better than you write it," Xiaoqing praised Ding Songyan with reddened eyes after the crowd dispersed. I'm an improviser—that's how I persuaded my investors in the past... Before Ding Songyan could say anything more to Xiaoqing, she slipped into the crowd with her maid, seemingly intent on helping him catch his stalkers. He shook his head and decided to pay a visit to the county yamen under the pretext of looking for his father, and then decide whether to proceed to Zhen Manor depending on how things looked. Just as Ding Songyan was about to take a step, someone suddenly approached. The man was clad in green clothes and a small cap, dressed like an ordinary commoner. With puffy eyelids and a fair, chubby build, he was none other than the Zhenling Sect disciple Ren Youyang. "Brother Youyang, what is this?" Ding Songyan asked in surprise. "Don't I look more like an ordinary person now?" Ren Youyang chuckled, gesturing at himself. "Ordinary commoners aren't quite... as plump and prosperous as you," Ding Songyan remarked after choosing his words carefully. Ren Youyang had a sudden realization. "No wonder people always notice something off whenever I travel incognito!" "Did you need something from me, Brother Youyang?" Ding Songyan asked. Ren Youyang's expression grew solemn. He cleared his throat and said, "I'll go with you to Zhen Manor. No matter what happens, I can't promise much else, but if it's just keeping you alive, Old Master Zhen will still give me some face." Ding Songyan was momentarily dumbfounded, completely unprepared for Ren Youyang to go to such lengths for him. Catching stalkers and unmasking the mastermind was amusing and fun, so it was natural for Ren Youyang to be game for it. But Zhen Manor was tied up with the Zhenling Sect's purpose in Dingjiang Prefecture, yet Ren Youyang was actually willing to disrupt Zhen Manor's schemes for someone he had met only by chance and shared a single encounter with. While not an outright conflict, it would certainly sour their relationship somewhat. Thoughts flashing through his mind, Ding Songyan couldn't help but sigh with genuine admiration, "Brother Youyang, you truly possess the spirit of the chivalrous knights-errant of antiquity!" Ren Youyang clearly hadn't expected such high praise. He blinked in surprise before bursting into hearty laughter. "How could our generation fall short of the ancients?" Delight beamed across his face, his smile brilliant. ... After escorting Ding Songyan to Zhen Manor, Ren Youyang did not stay at his side, heading straight off to pay his respects to Old Master Zhen. Ding Songyan, just like yesterday, was led by Mr. Yu to that small pavilion veiled by flowering trees. Blindfolded and supported by someone, he was guided through twisting corridors until he finally arrived at the room behind the heavy iron door. Throughout the entire process, Mr. Yu maintained complete silence, not mentioning a single word about his stakeout in Beili Ward or running into Ren Youyang. Settling into the chair, Ding Songyan unfurled his folding fan and prepared to begin. Suddenly, he once again felt as though the celestial gate atop his head had opened, and a soothing chill descended. That raspy, aged voice echoed in his mind with a chuckle: "You've realized Zhen Manor had someone tailing you with ill intent, haven't you?" Ding Songyan was taken aback at first, but then understanding dawned on him: The "honored guest" hadn't used the art of numerology yesterday to divine his fortunes just to prove anything—his true purpose had been to drag Ding Songyan into the game!