City God Temple.
Mu Gesheng slept from the afternoon straight through to the middle of the night. When he finally woke, his head felt heavy and clouded. He sat up in bed, dazed, and instinctively thought: *Who am I? Where am I?*
Seeing the red lanterns hanging outside the room, his first reaction was that the lights had been lit at the Ginkgo Study. He blurted out, "Old Second, what’s for dinner?"
No one answered.
Only then did he realize he was in the City God Temple. Although the room’s furnishings were a perfect recreation of his old quarters at the Study, there was no longer a courtyard full of ginkgo trees outside the window.
*No ginkgo trees is fine too,* he thought with a yawn. *Saves me the trouble of sweeping the leaves every day. You could never finish sweeping them anyway.*
Mu Gesheng threw a coat over his shoulders and headed downstairs. As he stepped into the courtyard, the faint, crisp fragrance of plum blossoms drifted through the air.
The Yellow Ox had already clocked off and gone home, leaving the ticket office empty. Mu Gesheng took down a lantern and hung it from the eaves in front of the temple gate. The long street was deserted, and the single flickering light looked like a solitary, swaying red flower.
Not yet fully awake, Mu Gesheng leaned against the door and dozed off in a half-dreaming state. He thought to himself that he really was getting old; dealing with a crowd of people during the day had left him mentally exhausted.
Wasn't it all just hoodwinking people? Since ancient times, fortune-telling was thirty percent skill and seventy percent showmanship. Back in the day, he could deceive the entire Study—the Master included—pick a fight with Old Second, and then head straight to Guanshan Yue to listen to music all night. He’d be as energetic as ever the next morning. He wasn't like this version of himself, who felt ready to drop after a few rounds of mahjong.
Leaning against the temple door wasn't comfortable. He looked up at the roof beams, wondering if he should climb up and lie on the tiles for a while. Just then, two headlights appeared in the distance, drawing closer along with the faint, tinny sound of "Happy Birthday."
Wasn't that his "daughter’s" electric tricycle? What kind of chuunibyou phase was that unlucky brat going through now, patrolling the streets like the City Management in the dead of night?
The "City Management" vehicle pulled up in front of the temple. Mu Gesheng finally saw the driver and burst out laughing. "No way, Sanjiutian. When did you hijack my daughter’s ride?"
Then he saw the back of the tricycle piled high with bags of fruits and vegetables, all stuffed into gaudy plastic sacks. "Did you go to a village fair? Heavens, these radishes are still covered in dirt. Were they just pulled from the ground?"
"Yes," Chai Shuxin replied as he climbed off the vehicle. "I went to the outskirts. New Year’s just ended, and there was a major market today."
Mu Gesheng had only been joking; he hadn't expected the man to actually go to a rural fair. He clicked his tongue in wonder. "A grand Master of the Seven Houses skips the gathering just to go buy groceries in the countryside. If Elder Zhu heard this, his beard would fly off in rage."
"It wasn't just for groceries," Chai Shuxin said. "There was a free clinic at the market. Some rare ailments are hard to find; I went to help out."
"You’re getting addicted to being a barefoot doctor. Aren't you afraid someone will report you for practicing without a license?" Mu Gesheng chuckled. "Fine, fine. Your merits are great indeed."
Chai Shuxin carried the various ingredients into the kitchen. "Have you eaten yet? What do you want?"
"Meat," Mu Gesheng answered decisively. Then, noticing that Chai Shuxin had actually bought several live chickens, he grabbed one by the neck. "This one looks like Old Fifth. Slaughter it and get it in the pot immediately."
"You didn't eat all day. Midnight snacks shouldn't be greasy." Chai Shuxin rescued the struggling chicken from Mu Gesheng’s grip, picked a few items from the counter, washed them, and began chopping. "How did the meeting go today?"
"Fairly smooth. I expect the Yao Group will send word agreeing to the competition tomorrow." Mu Gesheng grabbed a washed tomato from the cutting board and took a bite, juice spraying everywhere. He then began picking through the ingredients. "No ginger, no radish, no goji berries, no ginseng... Sanjiutian, be honest. Are you brewing medicine or making a snack?"
"Medicinal porridge." Ignoring Mu Gesheng’s meddling, Chai Shuxin put all the discarded ingredients into a clay pot, added a handful of glutinous rice, and began simmering the porridge.
Mu Gesheng choked on his words, staring blankly for a long time before speaking. "Can we negotiate? Can't we eat something else?"
"Your constitution is unique. If you don't take your medicine, you have to eat this." Chai Shuxin watched the flame. "You didn't take your medicine today."
"Wait, how did you know I didn't take it?"
"If you had, your reactions wouldn't be this slow," Chai Shuxin said. "You would have started sniping at me the moment I mentioned medicinal porridge."
Mu Gesheng: "..."
Sometimes he truly felt there was no comparing people. As fellow "old immortals," he was regressing while Chai Shuxin was becoming a literal sage.
Mu Gesheng gave a brief recap of the day’s events. After listening, Chai Shuxin said nothing, holding a soup ladle in thought. After a moment, he said, "I have a question."
Mu Gesheng took another bite of the tomato, his mouth dripping with juice. "Ask," he mumbled.
"That boy, An Ping—why did you let him taste your blood?" Chai Shuxin asked calmly. "If it was just an emergency to save a life, you have many ways given your abilities. Once he tasted your blood, he could never truly sever his ties with the Seven Houses."
Mu Gesheng hadn't expected this question. He mused, "Because his family is rich?" He then explained the An family’s business. "It’s just taking advantage of an opportunity. Why wouldn't I fleece a fat sheep that delivered itself to my door? His family is doing business with Chai Puti in a few days; he’ll be a big help then."
Chai Shuxin glanced at him, clearly unconvinced.
"...I really am getting old. I can't even fool you anymore." Mu Gesheng wiped his mouth and sighed. "An Ping’s fate chart is unusual. Keeping him close is... a way to remember."
"To remember?"
"You’ll know when the time comes. It’s not the time to speak of it yet; words create variables." Mu Gesheng tossed the tomato stem into the trash and washed his hands. "When will the food be ready?"
"Soon."
Once the medicinal porridge was ready, Mu Gesheng carried his bowl out of the kitchen. He found the chickens sleeping in the courtyard and tapped the rim of his bowl to wake them up, then tried to feed them a bit of the rice porridge. The chickens turned their heads away, avoiding it like the plague.
Mu Gesheng turned to the approaching Chai Shuxin. "See that, Sanjiutian? I told you putting herbs in porridge tastes bad. Even the chickens won't touch it. Tianjin has 'Goubuli'—the buns even dogs ignore. You’ve made 'Jibuli'—the medicinal porridge even chickens ignore."
Chai Shuxin: "..."
Mu Gesheng shook his head and sighed. "A man is treated worse than a chicken."
***
The next morning, An Ping woke up early. Since the housekeeper was still on holiday, he specially prepared breakfast. An Ping’s father had an appointment for morning tea with an old friend, so he ate a few bites and left. Shortly after, An Ping’s mother got up. Seeing the soft-boiled eggs on the table, her eyes lit up. "Did you make breakfast today, son?"
An Ping nodded. "Good morning, Mom."
His mother liked a few white sesame seeds on her soft-boiled eggs. The housekeeper didn't know about this preference; only An Ping always remembered his mother’s habits.
His mother had already applied her makeup and was wearing a black suit skirt, looking every bit the professional. "Mom, are you going out for business today?"
"I have to. The other party is in a hurry. I’ll go to the office this morning and have the meeting in the afternoon." She sighed, mumbling around a piece of fried dough. "I put some New Year’s money on your card. Go out and hang out with your classmates; don't just stay cooped up at home."
An Ping thought for a moment and tested the waters. "Why are you planning to do business with the Yao Group?"
"I’ve looked into it carefully. They are the best partner available right now, and your father has no objections." She sensed something and looked at An Ping. "What? Do you have some expert opinion, young man?"
"No, no." An Ping waved his hands hurriedly. "I don't understand business. I was just asking."
"You can say whatever you want to me," his mother said. "If you think there’s something wrong with the Yao Group, you can tell me, but you need to have a logical reason."
An Ping hadn't expected his mother to take him seriously. He had never touched the family business; as a high schooler, he could barely keep up with math, physics, and chemistry, let alone corporate strategy.
An Ping pondered for a moment and said, "Their chairwoman is prettier than you."
His mother choked on her porridge, coughing for a long time before she recovered. Surprisingly, she didn't scold him. Instead, she followed his train of thought. "Prettier than me?" She fell into thought for a moment. "You’ve seen the chairwoman of the Yao Group? Is she young?"
An Ping sensed trouble. "Mom, what do you mean?"
"If she’s not too old, maybe she could be my daughter-in-law."
Like mother, like son. This time, it was An Ping’s turn to choke spectacularly.
***
When Wu Biyou went to the City God Temple to pick up his vehicle that morning, he ran into Zhu Yinxiao. "Zhu Yexiao? You didn't go back with Elder Zhu?"
"The good show is just starting. Why would I go back?" Zhu Yinxiao had also just arrived. He hopped off his motorcycle, holding his helmet under one arm. "I got a message from my brother first thing this morning. Chai Puti’s reply has arrived."
Wu Biyou blinked, then sneered. "The Yao Group moves fast."
"After all, they finally got a chance to compete for the Lingshu-zi title. I doubt they’d let it slip." Zhu Yinxiao looked at Wu Biyou for a moment and suddenly grinned. "Say, you’re technically in the Fengdu camp now. Does coming here count as being a mole?"
Wu Biyou kicked at him. "Screw you."
Zhu Yinxiao blocked it easily and pulled the boy into a headlock, ruffling his hair. "Sigh, when is this brat’s chuunibyou phase going to end? There’s no such thing as a grudge between father and daughter that lasts overnight." He clicked his tongue. "You’re not Nezha; surely you aren't thinking of carving your flesh to return it to your father?"
Wu Biyou exploded. "Zhu Yexiao, don't think I won't beat you up!"
Zhu Yinxiao said lazily, "Grow another ten centimeters first."
"What’s all the noise so early in the morning?" Mu Gesheng opened the temple door, holding a letter. "Old Fifth, you got the news?"
"I did." Zhu Yinxiao nodded, looking at the letter in Mu Gesheng’s hand. "Is that the Yao Group’s reply? What does it say?"
"They sent an invitation." Mu Gesheng looked like he’d just woken up, letting out a yawn. "They’ve invited Sanjiutian to the city hospital."
"Invited my brother to the hospital?" Zhu Yinxiao was puzzled. "What kind of medicine are they selling in that gourd?"
"Apparently, there’s a surgery for a critically ill patient that they want Sanjiutian to perform." Mu Gesheng opened the invitation and scanned it. "Let me see... it’s written quite formally... essentially, it says that since Sanjiutian is to judge the next Lingshu-zi, he must first prove he is worthy of being a judge. They want him to perform a surgery; if it’s successful, they’ll recognize his medical skill."
He started laughing. "This is too much. I have to keep this letter as a souvenir."
Zhu Yinxiao was speechless for a moment. "They really have some imagination."
Even Wu Biyou found it unbelievable. Doubting Chai Shuxin’s medical skill? They must have bubbles in their brains.
"But Old Fifth, I have something to ask you." Mu Gesheng’s tone shifted as he looked at Zhu Yinxiao. "Back when Sanjiutian went abroad to study, what did he study?"
Zhu Yinxiao blinked. "Now that you ask, I can't quite remember... He studied a lot of things, a bit of everything. I think it was something in the STEM fields."
"The Yao Group put a lot of thought into this invitation," Mu Gesheng said. "Sanjiutian hasn't officially practiced medicine in years; no one knows what his current level is. Moreover, I remember the Yao family’s heritage is all Traditional Chinese Medicine. How is a TCM doctor supposed to perform surgery?"
Zhu Yinxiao finally realized the problem and hesitated. "...My brother did seem to study Western medicine while abroad, but there are many types of Western medicine. Whether he can actually perform surgery... I really don't know."
Wu Biyou: "Then what do we do?"
"Soldiers to block, water to dam." Mu Gesheng shrugged. "I asked him. Sanjiutian said he’s fine."
"But what if—"
"Kids who worry too much won't grow tall." Mu Gesheng patted Wu Biyou’s head.
"Relax. Your old man is here for everything."
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 大集 | Daji / Rural Market | A traditional periodic open-air market in rural China. |
| 义诊 | Free Clinic | Volunteer medical consultation/treatment. |
| 赤脚大夫 | Barefoot Doctor | Historically, a health worker with basic medical training in rural China; used here colloquially. |
| 药膳 | Medicinal Porridge / Diet | Food prepared with Chinese medicinal herbs. |
| 命盘 | Fate Chart / Natal Chart | A chart used in Chinese astrology to determine one's destiny. |
| 溏心蛋 | Soft-boiled Egg | Specifically an egg with a runny yolk. |
| 剔骨还父 | Carving flesh to return to father | A reference to the myth of Nezha, who committed suicide by carving his flesh to sever ties with his father. |
| 西医 | Western Medicine | Modern conventional medicine, as opposed to TCM. |
