“Then why is an extinguished Longevity Lamp still in the hall?” Zhou Fuxue asked, looking at the name on the jade plaque. “Gui He? Which senior was this?”
Ming Zhu used his fingertip to nudge the extinguished lamp upward, sending it wobbling back into the air. “I’m not entirely sure. Judging by the name, perhaps he was one of Master’s martial brothers. Usually, when a person dies and their flame goes out, the lamp falls to the high platform. For some reason, this one never fell; it’s been floating up there for years. Anyway, enough about that. Come here, quickly.”
He hopped over the trickling icy water to the high platform in the center of the hall and placed the lamp down. Taking Zhou Fuxue’s hand, he pricked his finger to let a single drop of blood fall onto the jade plaque hanging below. Soon, the lamp began to glow with a faint light, and the name *Zhou Fuxue* slowly manifested upon it.
Holding the Longevity Lamp, Ming Zhu said, “Kneel.”
Zhou Fuxue startled, then promptly sank to his knees on the freezing floor. As the water slowly seeped around him, a bone-chilling cold rose up. He shivered violently but did not utter a single word of complaint.
Ming Zhu spoke, “Zhou Fuxue, thirteenth disciple of Rizhao Mountain.”
His expression had turned uncharacteristically solemn. His peach-blossom eyes narrowed slightly, exuding a natural, commanding pressure that demanded respect.
Zhou Fuxue lowered his head. “The disciple is present.”
“Now that you have entered Rizhao Mountain, it matters not if you were once royalty or a common peddler; you must cast aside your past. Be diligent every day, seek knowledge with tireless devotion, and never succumb to indolence or petty schemes. You have known loneliness and hardship since childhood; you are more perceptive than most, and your temperament is naturally detached. If you stay true to your heart and prune away the impurities, you will surely become a person of noble grace. However, if you allow yourself to become arrogant, the line between the righteous path and the demonic way is but a single thought. No one will be able to save you then. Do you understand?”
Zhou Fuxue replied, “I do.”
The moment he finished his formal speech, Ming Zhu immediately dropped his forced gravity. He reached out and hauled Zhou Fuxue up from the floor. “Aie, do your legs hurt? The water in this Hall of Longevity isn't ordinary water. If you stay in it too long, your flesh will freeze and rot.”
Before Zhou Fuxue could react, Ming Zhu grabbed him by the waist, hoisted him up with a grunt, and sat him down on the steps of the high platform. Without a word of warning, he began to pull up the boy's robes.
Zhou Fuxue had never been treated with such intimacy in his life. His face flushed crimson instantly as he struggled. “Don’t—don’t touch me. I’m fine.”
Ming Zhu knelt beside him, looking puzzled. “Is that so? Then give your leg a kick so I can see.”
Zhou Fuxue didn't dare look at him. He gave a random, frantic kick that caught Ming Zhu right in the chest. Ming Zhu, who was kneeling right in front of him, was sent reeling backward. He lost his balance and tumbled straight down the steps.
Zhou Fuxue: “...”
“Senior Brother!”
Ming Zhu was thick-skinned and hardy; he scrambled up from the floor as if nothing had happened. He shook off the water—the very water he claimed could rot flesh—and smiled with crinkled eyes. “Alright, the lamp is lit. Let’s head back.”
He gave the Longevity Lamp a gentle push. It drifted upward, merging into the sea of brilliant lights until it was lost from sight.
Zhou Fuxue gave a soft “mm.” He tried to stand, but a piercing cold suddenly shot up from his knees, racing through his meridians. His entire body felt as though it had been flash-frozen, leaving him paralyzed where he sat.
It seemed the warning about the water was no exaggeration.
Ming Zhu sighed, then crouched down with his back to Zhou Fuxue. “Come on, I’ll carry you.”
Zhou Fuxue hesitated for a long moment before finally leaning onto Ming Zhu’s back. “Thank you, Senior Brother,” he whispered.
Ming Zhu hoisted him up. “Ugh, every time a new disciple arrives, Master makes me go through this whole routine. It’s boring enough to make a man go mad. What’s the point of all this superficial ceremony? The ancestors of Rizhao can’t see it anyway, and it just makes you kids suffer.”
Leaning against his back, Zhou Fuxue listened to his usual rebellious rambling. For some reason, the disgust he had felt before was gone. He leaned his head slightly against Ming Zhu’s shoulder blades, thinking to himself: *He looks so thin and weak, yet his back is so warm and broad.*
Ten-year-old Zhou Fuxue had tasted all the bitterness the world had to offer. This was the first time he had ever felt truly protected—even if the person protecting him was a profligate wastrel whom everyone looked down upon.
Perhaps Ming Zhu’s grumbling about the ancestors in the Hall of Longevity had invited divine retribution. No sooner had he returned Zhou Fuxue to Wenxian Residence and applied medicine than a young Daoist boy arrived to announce that the Sect Leader wanted to see him.
Ming Zhu was munching on a fruit he had stolen from the Fifth Junior Brother. He asked indistinctly, “Wants me? What for?”
The young boy gave him a pitying look. “Senior Brother will know once you get there. The Junior Uncle is also in the hall.”
Ming Zhu: “...”
Ming Zhu’s conscience immediately flared with guilt. He waved his hand frantically to shoo the boy away. “Go, go! Just say you couldn't find me!”
The boy looked ready to cry. “Senior Brother, please don't make it hard for me. The Sect Leader said you must go today, or he’ll send people to drag you there.”
Ming Zhu nearly slammed his head against the table. After a long silence, he accepted his fate. “Fine. I’ll go. I’ll go.”
Zhou Fuxue sat in his chair, his knees wrapped in thick, messy layers of gauze by Ming Zhu. It looked like a pair of lumpy buns, quite unsightly, but Zhou Fuxue didn't mind. Seeing Ming Zhu’s mournful expression, he asked curiously, “Senior Brother, what’s wrong?”
Ming Zhu wailed, “Junior Uncle lied to me again! He must have told Master about the morning lesson.”
The young Daoist boy standing nearby added cautiously, “Um... Senior Brother, every time you talk nonsense with Junior Uncle, he promises not to tell the Sect Leader. But every single time after class, he goes straight to the Sect Leader to report you. It’s happened so many times... you really should have learned your lesson by now.”
Ming Zhu: “...”
Ming Zhu looked like he was about to burst into tears. “Thirteenth, I’ll have someone bring you lunch. Eat by yourself.”
Zhou Fuxue asked, “What about you?”
Ming Zhu replied, “I’m going to go kneel as punishment.”
Zhou Fuxue: “...”
Ming Zhu followed the boy to Perfected Cultivator Guining’s residence. He didn't even enter the door; he simply hiked up his robes and knelt by the Precept Stone outside the main hall. “This disciple knows his mistake.”
Inside the hall, Guining Zhenren seemed accustomed to this. He spoke directly: “Five watches. Kneel straight. Let the passing disciples see exactly what a pathetic sight the Eldest Senior Brother of Rizhao Mountain is.”
Ming Zhu knelt perfectly upright. “Yes.”
It was currently lunchtime. Disciples were coming and going in small groups, casting glances at him from the corners of their eyes. Some were mocking, some amused, and some sympathetic. The Senior Brother, however, seemed to have no sense of shame. Despite the bruises on his face, he greeted his acquaintances with a cheerful smile.
Inside the hall, Guining Zhenren leaned against a soft couch. His sharp, cold eyes held a natural authority as he watched Ming Zhu through the doorway. “His temperament truly takes after his unreliable father,” he remarked coldly. “No desire to progress, and never changing despite knowing his faults. If he isn't strictly disciplined, he might very well fall into the demonic path in the future.”
The Junior Uncle stood beside him with his hands lowered, smiling gently. “Senior Brother, do not punish him too harshly. Though his words were somewhat biased, they represent a unique perspective. It is far better than those disciples who only know how to read books by rote.”
Guining Zhenren remained dissatisfied. “There is no need to speak for him. Let him kneel and learn his lesson. If he goes astray in the future because of these heterodox ideas, who will be able to restrain him?”
The Junior Uncle was silent for a moment before asking, “Then why did you agree to let him go to Hundred Swords Mountain this time? He has been thinking of escaping Rizhao all these years. Are you not afraid he will take this chance to run away?”
“That is why I am letting Zhou Fuxue go as well,” Guining Zhenren sneered. “Ming Zhu may look like he is kind to everyone, but in truth, he is more detached and cold-hearted than either of us. The only thing that can probably tether him is...”
Junior Uncle: “Hmm?”
Guining Zhenren paused briefly before continuing, “Only Zhou Fuxue, who shares a similar fate.”
“He is indeed special toward Zhou Fuxue, but are you certain a mere boy can truly make him stay?”
Guining Zhenren said, “What if we add Lu Qingkong and his crippled spiritual meridians?”
The Junior Uncle fell silent again.
Guining Zhenren looked at Ming Zhu outside and gave a cold laugh. “Gui He, the more cold-hearted a person is, the more they are burdened by sentiment when they encounter someone like themselves.”
Gui He looked up slightly. Guining Zhenren’s fingers lightly brushed an extinguished incense burner. He lowered his eyes and whispered, “And once he has something to care about, he shouldn't dream of leaving Rizhao Mountain until the day he dies.”
With a soft *creak*, Gui He stepped out of the hall holding a green bamboo-framed umbrella. He walked down the steps and approached Ming Zhu, saying softly, “A-Zhu, stop kneeling. Go back.”
Ming Zhu looked up at his untrustworthy Junior Uncle with a resentful gaze. “Junior Uncle, you broke your word again. You’ve really done me in this time. Five watches!”
Usually, no matter how rebellious he was, he never knelt for more than two watches. This time was different; by the time he finished, it would likely be the middle of the night.
Gui He looked entirely innocent. “That is why I am telling you to stop. It is so uncomfortable to kneel for so long.”
He crouched beside Ming Zhu, tilting the umbrella to shield him from the scorching midday sun.
Ming Zhu said, “Aie, Junior Uncle, don't set me up. Last time I listened to you and went back early, Master added another half-watch to my punishment. You’re doing it again today? I’ll only believe it if Master tells me himself.”
Gui He continued in his gentle voice, “You don't have to listen to your Master. Trust your Junior Uncle just this once.”
Ming Zhu: “I don't believe you.”
Gui He had no choice but to stand up and retract the umbrella. “Then I shall head back first. Kneel well.”
Ming Zhu blinked. “Junior Uncle, look how fierce the sun is. Won't you consider leaving the umbrella for your nephew to provide some shade?”
The Junior Uncle’s robes trailed on the ground, his posture as elegant and pure as an ice jar under the autumn moon. He turned slightly, his eyes curving into a gentle smile. “I cannot. My apologies, A-Zhu.”
Ming Zhu didn't feel the slightest bit of awkwardness at being rejected. He gave an “oh.” As Gui He turned to leave, Ming Zhu called out to him again. Gui He turned back with good-natured patience. “I really cannot.”
Ming Zhu blinked innocently. “No, that’s not it. I wanted to say... Junior Uncle, your shadow fell off.”
Gui He: “...”
Ming Zhu was pinching a pitch-black, man-shaped shadow in his hand. The shadow was still wriggling and muttering incoherently. Ming Zhu was bold; seeing a shadow jumping around on the ground didn't cause him the slightest fear or surprise. He held it as if he had caught a common insect, his eyes full of curiosity.
Gui He’s face turned deathly pale instantly. He looked down at his feet. There was nothing there.
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
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归何 | Gui He | Junior Uncle (Xiao Shishu); also the name on the extinguished lamp.
归宁真人 | Guining Zhenren | The Sect Leader (Zhangjiao) and Ming Zhu's Master.
闻弦居 | Wenxian Residence | "Listening to the Zither" Residence; where the disciples stay.
百剑山 | Hundred Swords Mountain | A location mentioned as a future destination.
陆青空 | Lu Qingkong | Another disciple mentioned by the Sect Leader.
戒辞 | Precept Stone | A stone inscribed with sect rules, often a place for punishment.
冰壶秋月 | Ice jar and autumn moon | Idiom describing a person of pure, noble, and translucent character.
五时辰 | Five watches | A period of time (approx. 10 hours, though often used more generally for a long duration).
