HCAW 164
by LiliumChapter 164: Side Story – Wind and Thunder in the Nine Provinces (2)
Green vines flourished, and mountain azaleas bloomed vibrantly. Though the scenery below changed with the seasons, the view inside Wuwei Temple remained eternally spring-like.
Fang Jingyu and Chu Kuang ascended the stone steps. Looking upward, they saw a young Daoist priest standing by the temple gate.
The young Daoist wore elegant robes and cloud-patterned shoes, appearing graceful and otherworldly. But most astonishing was the enormous crimson serpent coiled around his shoulders, its golden eyes alertly flicking its tongue at the two newcomers.
Seeing the Daoist, the pair tensed immediately. Fang Jingyu whispered nervously, “Brother Minsheng, what’s going on here? Are all people in the Nine Provinces like this? He…he looks quite strange, like a street performer.” Chu Kuang lowered his voice and replied, “How would I know? Maybe to him, we’re the strange ones!”
Suddenly, Fang Jingyu reached into his sleeve, his face turning pale. “This is bad.”
“What is it?”
“The Great Immortal is missing!” Fang Jingyu gritted his teeth. “I haven’t seen it since we arrived here. I only just realized now…”
“When did it disappear? Where could he have gone?”
“No idea. Perhaps we got separated after the shipwreck,” Fang Jingyu sighed. “What now, Brother Minsheng? Without Great Immortal Yonghe, we can’t bluff anyone.”
As the two whispered anxiously, the young Daoist smiled and called out, “Are you two pilgrims here to offer incense?”
Curiously, although he questioned them, his eyes twinkled knowingly, as if he already understood everything. Fang Jingyu and Chu Kuang exchanged glances and cautiously nodded.
“Please come in. Our temple has fine incense prepared,” the young Daoist said warmly, stepping aside to let them enter. Fang Jingyu politely bowed and carefully asked:
“Daoist priest, if I may trouble you… We are travelers who suffered a shipwreck and now have nowhere to stay. Could we possibly lodge in your temple for a while?”
Without their missing immortal companion, they had no choice but to be straightforward.
Chu Kuang immediately caught on, adding humbly, “Yes, we can do odd jobs—sewing, cleaning, chopping wood, cooking—we can do it all! If that’s not enough, we’ll work outside during the day and hand over all our earnings for accommodation.”
The young Daoist blinked, surprisingly agreeable. “Certainly. We have empty guest rooms you can tidy up and stay in.”
Fang Jingyu and Chu Kuang exchanged puzzled glances, not expecting such easy acceptance, which left them suspiciously uneasy. The young man led them inside, and as they walked through clouds of incense smoke past magnificent halls, he smiled and said, “This temple has few people, and lately there’s been much work needing attention. Your arrival solves an urgent problem for me.”
“What kind of work?” Fang Jingyu asked curiously.
“Nothing difficult. Can you two read and write?”
Chu Kuang immediately straightened proudly, boasting, “Daoist, you’ve found exactly the right person! I’ve read enough books to pass the imperial exams ten times over!” Then, casting a pitying glance at Fang Jingyu, he continued, “Sadly, my younger brother isn’t the same—he barely recognizes a few big characters, and his handwriting resembles spider tracks. He’s practically illiterate.” Fang Jingyu shot him a glare, itching to punch him right there.
The young Daoist chuckled, amused. “Never imagined I’d meet such a scholar! Truth be told, this month is the Lotus Month, the time for stove offerings and rituals for protection against hailstorms. I have a talisman-making business but lack enough hands to help.” With a mischievous wink, he added, “No need to call me ‘Daoist priest.’ My surname is Wen, given name Yiqing—just call me Yiqing.”
Yiqing brought them to a guest room, inside of which was a clean, dust-free bed, as if anticipating their arrival. Handing them a book, he said, “This contains various methods for drawing talismans. You two can study carefully. Our temple is in disrepair, and we desperately need incense money. If you can master these and help me draw talismans in the village below, I’d be deeply grateful.”
The book was filled with elaborate talismans, from Supreme Three-Cave incantations warding off evil spirits to Supreme Lord Taiyi’s mantra for calming the soul—astonishing the two men. They exchanged glances, thinking: Perhaps the people of the Nine Provinces also have their own “Great Immortal.” Drawing these talismans might even summon him!
Chu Kuang nervously asked, “Daoist…will these talismans really summon spirits or gods?”
Yiqing laughed lightly. “Sometimes they do, sometimes not—it depends on the mood of the gods. But these talismans are meant for common people’s welfare, never to harm anyone.”
“But we’re mere mortals; surely our talismans won’t be effective?” Fang Jingyu asked doubtfully.
“If your heart is sincere, they’ll work,” Yiqing replied mysteriously, smiling again.
The two men temporarily settled into Wuwei Temple but remained filled with questions. Besides them, there were few others: a woman carrying an umbrella, an elderly fat man, a sleepy-looking disciple, and exceptionally fat rabbits and birds wandering around. Yiqing told them not to rush into talisman-drawing, suggesting they explore the village first, and gave them a few coins. Soon after, the two confidently headed down the mountain.
Upon entering Liyang in the Nine Provinces, the two were immediately amazed, their eyes wide with astonishment: they had never seen such bustling scenes before! The Nine Provinces were even livelier than Daiyu City, the markets crowded with shouting people and neighing horses, ornate buildings and luxurious streets teeming with activity. Despite the commotion, pedestrians moved about orderly and purposefully. A single main avenue here was equivalent to four or five in Penglai. As they wandered through, colorful banners fluttered on both sides, and fragrant dust filled the air. They felt overwhelmed, like barbarians suddenly thrown into a magnificent immortal palace.
They walked around in circles, soon losing their way. Chu Kuang’s eyes and ears were constantly distracted by various shops. Tugging on Fang Jingyu’s sleeve, he exclaimed, “Listen to their music—it uses only five tones! Ours has twice as many!” Holding up a huge red melon, he excitedly shouted, “Look at this! It’s called a sweet gourd, and it tastes so sweet!” They hopped over walls, sneaking into kitchens to steal some wine and steamed buns. With crumbs falling from his mouth and cheeks bulging, Chu Kuang eagerly said to Fang Jingyu, “Look how many kinds of fillings their buns have!”
Finally, Chu Kuang enjoyed himself so much he declared triumphantly, “There are so many new and exciting things here—I don’t want to go back!”
The Nine Provinces had abundant products and countless novelties they’d never encountered before, so the two explored madly, darting into alleys, taverns, and temples. Chu Kuang’s greed knew no bounds, quickly spending all the copper coins they’d gotten from the young Daoist.
Fortunately, they had become adept at begging, having no issues sleeping outdoors. After several days of reckless fun, they eventually realized they couldn’t continue wandering aimlessly and had to find proper work.
One day, sitting outside a temple dedicated to the Fire God, they gloomily touched their empty money bags. Fang Jingyu sighed, “What business in the Nine Provinces could possibly make good money?”
Chu Kuang joked, “Why not sell you into a brothel? You escape, then I’ll sell you again, repeating until we have endless money.”
Fang Jingyu shot him a sideways glance. “I think you’re more suited to be a bodyguard. Let’s do that together.”
“No way,” Chu Kuang cunningly said. “That profession bullies men and women alike—I’d never do something so unethical!”
“And selling me into a brothel wouldn’t be unethical?” Fang Jingyu retorted.
Chu Kuang pretended not to hear, changing the subject, “Anyway, we’re wandering aimlessly here without the Great Immortal’s protection. Who knows which immortal oversees this place?”
At the mention of the Great Immortal, Fang Jingyu felt a pang of sadness. Ever since arriving, they hadn’t seen Xiao Jiao. Losing their companion left him feeling empty and unsettled.
“This place falls under the Stove Lord’s1 Stove Lord, also known as the Kitchen God (灶君, 灶神) jurisdiction.”
Suddenly, a clear voice came from in front. Looking up, they saw a Daoist in red robes standing before them. Both immediately tensed—the man’s face was like carved jade, eyes like molten gold, handsome yet slightly aloof.
Another unfamiliar face. Unsure how to respond, they waited as the red-robed Daoist continued calmly:
“I’m a disciple of Wuwei Temple. You two have been staying there recently. Brother Wen sent me to find you, worrying you’d forgotten the way back.”
Fang Jingyu and Chu Kuang quickly stood up, respectfully greeting him. Fang Jingyu said apologetically, “We troubled you, Daoist. We’re deeply sorry.” Chu Kuang tilted his head, asking, “This Daoist in red, could you explain what you meant by ‘Stove Lord’s jurisdiction’?”
At this, the Daoist’s expression softened slightly, and he smiled gently.
“Weren’t you just discussing the deity here? Liyang in the Nine Provinces falls under the Stove Lord’s domain. Before becoming the Stove Lord, he was known as the ‘Fourth Star Lord of the Wenchang Palace2Wenchang Palace (文昌府): the domain of Wenchang Dijun, the god of culture, literature, and civil examination..’”
Chu Kuang looked confused. “One deity manages stoves, another manages scholars—how did they end up connected?” The red-robed Daoist simply smiled without answering. Fang Jingyu hesitated, then asked cautiously, “This deity wouldn’t happen to have seven eyes and nine tentacles, would he?”
The Daoist laughed softly, “Certainly not! Having seven eyes and nine tentacles would make him look more like a monster.”
The two exchanged glances, realizing the deities here were vastly different from those of Penglai. Chu Kuang asked further, “Then, Daoist, have you perhaps seen a creature resembling what we described?”
Fang Jingyu felt touched, realizing Chu Kuang still missed Xiao Jiao. The red-robed Daoist appeared momentarily surprised, then after brief thought, smiled slightly and said, “Actually, I might know a place where you could find what you’re looking for.”
Half a day later, the three stood before a bustling fish market, Fang Jingyu and Chu Kuang staring wide-eyed at the splashing fish.
The market was crowded, stalls displaying carp, perch, bass, and other lively fish swimming energetically in buckets lined with willow leaves.
The red-robed Daoist led them through the busy market to a certain stall, drawing many customers. Fang Jingyu saw a fisherman who had set up a wooden board on two stones, atop which many octopuses squirmed, trapped under a fine net. Realizing their predicament, the octopuses wriggled desperately, trying to escape. The Daoist smiled, saying:
“What do you think? Does this resemble the strange creature you described?”
Fang Jingyu sighed helplessly upon seeing them. “We’re looking for a nine-tentacled creature, not an eight-tentacled one—and ours is particularly odd, with seven small eyes!” The Daoist looked astonished. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”
After spending half a day searching, they found no trace of the Great Immortal, leaving them somewhat dispirited. Just as they were turning away, they suddenly heard a faint voice from the board, crying pitifully:
“Tight-lipped gourd, Laborer Chu, don’t leave me!”
Stunned, they turned back, seeing amidst the crowded octopuses a tiny nine-tentacled creature being nearly suffocated by its eight-tentacled counterparts. The small creature blinked its seven eyes tearfully, sobbing:
“Save me, save me! You ungrateful brats left me behind after crossing the sea. Now I’ve been caught by fishermen and am about to be chopped into fish meat!”
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