The little novice monk pulled out several Mountain Ghost amulet coins and tossed them onto the chessboard; they landed with a crisp, melodic chime.
He stared at the hexagram in silence.
Just as Hua Bucheng had never asked why Mo Qingbei had been expelled from the mountain, Mo Qingbei had never delved into why the former remained in the Sword Pavilion.
Over two hundred years ago, when Hua Bucheng had just reached his capping ceremony, he won the top rank in the Sword Trial Assembly and entered the Library of Scriptures. His master had asked him the same question:
"What is it you seek?"
Hua Bucheng had pondered for a long time before answering, "I do not know."
At that time, he was the most gifted disciple in Penglai, his cultivation in the Way of the Sword unsurpassed. Yet, if asked why he held a blade, he could find no answer. It was simply that he had picked up a sword as far back as his memory reached, and so he followed the path of least resistance.
Everyone in the sect praised his diligent practice, but the truth was that aside from practicing the sword, he did not know what else he could do—or rather, what he *wanted* to do. He had once thought that if he ever found a true desire, he would abandon the sword without a hint of regret.
The sword was the man: beneath its sharp edge lay a profound indifference and detachment.
Cold-hearted and cold-natured, he knew nothing of emotion.
The next day, following his master’s orders, Hua Bucheng entered the Sword Pavilion for solitary cultivation.
On that same day, the Heavenly Calculator visited Penglai to request that one disciple enter the mortal world.
Over a century later, Mo Qingbei entered the Library of Scriptures and gave the exact same answer as Hua Bucheng.
Yet they were polar opposites.
One knew not what he sought because he was cold and detached.
The other sought too much because his six senses were stained by the world.
Each had their own tribulation to cross—the one without feelings had to learn to love, while the one with too many had to learn detachment.
Only by tasting the seven emotions and enduring the eight sufferings to finally return to one's original heart could one reach completion.
To ascend and attain the Dao was to achieve Great Transcendence.
Before Hua Bucheng entered the Sword Pavilion, his master had not given him a term for his seclusion; he said only that Hua Bucheng could descend the mountain whenever he wished.
To be without ties was to be cold-natured. When he finally desired to descend for the sake of something, he would have ties.
To know the bitterness of worry, to taste the flavors of joy and sorrow, to realize what love was—only then would the ice melt and the snow thaw, followed by a torrential flood of emotion.
Only then could he reach that higher realm.
Changshengzi looked at the man kneeling below the steps and sighed deeply. "You have already passed your heart's tribulation."
Hua Bucheng remained prostrated, repeating only one sentence: "I beg the Sect Leader to save him."
"The road to the Dao is long; as one tribulation passes, another is born." Changshengzi looked at Mo Qingbei and sighed again. "He is your new tribulation."
"I know."
"You should understand what it means for you to leave the Sword Pavilion and descend from the mountain peak."
"I know."
"Only the Sect Leader of Penglai is entitled to use the White Jade Draught."
"I know."
"It seems you understand everything."
"Yes." Hua Bucheng raised his head, his expression resolute. "Mo Qingbei used his cultivation to sever the dragon vein, violating the sect rules. I am willing to take his punishment."
"Young Master Hua," the little monk said as he stepped out of the Golden Hall. "Are you certain you wish to do this?"
Hua Bucheng met his gaze. "Other than this, can the Heavenly Calculator save him?"
The little monk was silent for a moment. "I cannot."
Penglai had a rule: disciples entering the world must have their meridians sealed. If they used their cultivation to interfere with the mortal realm, they would face the Punishment of Severing Bone.
There were two types of this punishment. One severed the root-bone and cultivation, turning the person into an ordinary mortal. The other severed the heart-bone and attachments, casting away all past memories and ties.
The meaning behind Changshengzi’s words was clear—if Hua Bucheng wanted to use the White Jade Draught to save Mo Qingbei, he had to inherit the position of Sect Leader.
With his cultivation, succeeding the position was not an issue. However, if he were to take Mo Qingbei's punishment, he could only choose to sever his heart-bone.
For his cultivation, this was actually a boon. He had passed his heart's tribulation and his emotional apertures had just opened; the six desires and eight sufferings he had once ignored would now come rushing in, making his path fraught with danger. Severing the heart-bone was the swiftest solution.
From emotionless to emotional, and from emotional to absolute detachment—this was the path to perfection.
What was even more precious was that he was entirely willing.
The next day, the Sect Leader of Penglai stepped down, passing the title of Changshengzi to Hua Bucheng.
"You must understand what this means," the little monk found him and said. "Even if Mo Qingbei wakes up, he will not thank you for what you have done today."
"He will not thank me, but he understands me." Hua Bucheng took the White Jade Draught from the medicine hall. "Heavenly Calculator, I have a request."
He produced a Mountain Ghost amulet coin. "Years ago, he gave this to me for safekeeping. Today, I return it to its rightful owner."
The little monk sighed; he understood what Hua Bucheng was asking of him.
"That things have come to this pass is my fault." The little monk shook his head. "My goals differ from the previous Changshengzi. I seek a world of peace; he sought ascension. Both you and Master Mo have immortal fate, yet I took it upon myself to drag him into the world. I thought my plan was foolproof, but I still miscalculated one step."
"When Master Mo agreed to enter the world to save the people, his condition was that I must not involve you."
Hua Bucheng frowned slightly. "He is not a burden to me."
"Yes, you are both willing." The little monk sighed. "In this game of chess against the previous Changshengzi, I am the one who lost after all."
"From this day forward, Mo Qingbei shall be a disciple of the Tiansuan Lineage." The little monk took the Mountain Ghost coin and bowed deeply. "As his master, I shall protect him for the rest of his life."
According to the rules of the Seven Houses, one could not steal the secret techniques of another house, nor could they take away another house's disciples. If the Tiansuan Lineage wanted to take Mo Qingbei, they had to offer something of equal value in exchange.
"From now on, the Tiansuan Lineage owes Penglai a person," the little monk said. "In forty years, we shall return the debt."
On the day Hua Bucheng succeeded as the Sect Leader of Penglai, he used the White Jade Draught to save Mo Qingbei.
He held the porcelain bowl, his movements slow as he fed the medicine to the other man drop by drop.
Mo Qingbei was heavily injured and unconscious; his hair turned from raven black to snowy white.
*The immortal strokes my crown; with white hair, I receive longevity.*
The following day, Hua Bucheng underwent the punishment, severing his heart-bone and taking the mantle of Changshengzi.
Mo Qingbei remained in a coma for five years. When he finally woke, his heavy injuries were healed, but he was left with a permanent leg infirmity. He could never hold a sword again, nor could he enjoy the lifespan of an ordinary man.
Ten years later, the dynasty collapsed. The little monk passed away, and Mo Qingbei inherited the Mountain Ghost amulet coins.
He found an ancient city nestled among beautiful mountains and rivers. Outside the city was a mountain, and on the mountain was a temple—the very place where the little monk had been a novice before becoming the Heavenly Calculator. He bought a piece of land at the temple, asked the Mo Family head to build a garden, and planted many ginkgo trees within it.
On the day the garden was completed, Penglai sent a carriage of timber. The disciple in charge of the delivery said that when the Sect Leader had succeeded the position years ago, he had ordered that if a new Heavenly Calculator took office, a pavilion should be sent to them.
Mo Qingbei asked the disciple if he knew the history of the pavilion.
The disciple paused, recollecting for a moment. "When the Sect Leader took office, he had to sever his heart-bone. The extraction triggered a heavenly tribulation; lightning struck the mountain peak and caused a fire that burned half of the Sword Pavilion."
The disciple scratched his head. At that time, many people had rushed to put out the fire, only to discover that the Sword Pavilion did not house legendary swords as the rumors suggested. Instead, it was filled with scrolls and books.
"This pavilion was also scorched back then. Fortunately, the wood was precious and didn't burn away, though it left fire marks." The disciple observed the Heavenly Calculator’s expression. He didn't understand why the Sect Leader would give such an order; Penglai had so many treasures, yet he chose to send a broken pavilion.
But when the Sect Leader had given the instruction, his expression had been incredibly solemn: *Even if I forget this matter in the future, do not ask questions. You must deliver the pavilion.*
The Heavenly Calculator in the wheelchair smiled and said softly, "Thank you."
In the second year after the Ginkgo Study was established, Mo Qingbei found an orphan in the mountain forest and named him Lin Juansheng.
Later, the Mo Family head passed away. His son was young, so he was entrusted to Mo Qingbei’s care. In the same year, the young master of the Medicine House entered the study to begin his education.
Two years later, the Wuchangzi passed away. The last thing he did before his death was send his only son to study at the Ginkgo Study.
Three years after that, Mo Qingbei rarely descended the mountain, but when he did, he used a candied hawthorn stick to kidnap a child.
Mo Qingbei held the title of Heavenly Calculator for twenty-four years—the shortest lifespan of any in his lineage.
When he passed away, the Seven Houses came to mourn, but Changshengzi did not come.
The two never met again.
The scenes in the illusion shifted rapidly, fleeting and ephemeral, until finally, all the images froze like a long, unfolding scroll.
Mu Gesheng walked through them as if watching a passing parade. He fell into a rare silence, slowly draining his cup of wine.
His thoughts were a tangled mess, finally dissolving into a long sigh. "The Master I knew was a man who used his integrity to light up the cold night."
"Looking at it now, he simply lived the second half of his life as the Hua Bucheng of old."
No one answered. Mu Gesheng looked back. "Sanjiutian?"
The surroundings were empty. Chai Shuxin had vanished without a trace.
He blinked, wondering if he had drunk too much.
Suddenly, a voice rang out from the depths of the illusion, chanting slowly: "In life, we do not meet, moving like the stars Shen and Shang. Tomorrow, separated by mountain peaks, the world's affairs will be a vast blur."
Mu Gesheng froze. "Who is it?"
"You should recognize my voice." The person laughed. "Having listened for so long, are you still not familiar with it?"
A figure walked out from the depths of the illusion, clad in a kasaya. He held a porcelain bowl in one hand, while the other was held vertically against his chest in a Buddhist greeting.
The little monk looked at Mu Gesheng and smiled slightly. "You unworthy disciple, aren't you going to call me 'Grandmaster'?"
Mu Gesheng stared blankly for a moment, then turned to leave. "I really have had too much to drink."
"Wait, wait!" The little monk had short legs and had to chase after him. "You brat! Let your master finish speaking!"
"I'm not listening! I'm not listening to a monk's chanting!" Mu Gesheng broke into a run, saying decisively, "Whether you're real or not, given the Tiansuan Lineage's track record, nothing good ever follows!"
That said, with Mu Gesheng’s eyes, he wouldn't be fooled by a mere illusion. There was only one other possibility—this person really was the Heavenly Calculator from two generations ago.
"I'll give you money!" The figure held up a copper coin—it was actually a Mountain Ghost amulet coin. "Do you want it?"
Mu Gesheng stopped in his tracks.
"Buy one, get one free! It also contains the memories you're looking for!" The little monk hopped around nearby. "Just listen to me for a bit, and I'll give it to you!"
Mu Gesheng turned his head, squinting at the coin in the monk's hand. "Why is that with you?"
"After you died, the Mountain Ghost coins were scattered. One was kept by the Mo Family and eventually stored in the Mirage." The monk panted, exhausted from hopping. "We're both centenarians; can't we sit down and have a cup of tea peacefully?"
Mu Gesheng thought about it and said reluctantly, "Fine then." He walked over and crouched down to be at eye level with the monk. "What exactly do you want?"
The monk stood on his tiptoes, looking Mu Gesheng up and down before commenting, "Grand-disciple, I must say, you're even more pathetic than I imagined."
Mu Gesheng lowered his head to let the monk pat it. "What do you mean by that?"
"Your memories are incomplete, and your physical body is destroyed. The only reason you can stand here is that someone forcibly kept your soul in the mortal realm." The little monk tilted his head. "Judging by the scent on you, is this the work of the Medicine House?"
"More or less." Mu Gesheng didn't quite know how to explain. "By the way, how did you appear here? Did you leave this illusion behind?"
"You can think of it that way. Although these are Qingbei's memories, I have a share in them too."
"And what is your business?"
"It's a message." The little monk smiled. "But implementing it might be a bit troublesome."
"Let's not talk like this; it's exhausting. Stop being cryptic. We're both Heavenly Calculators; no one can fool anyone here." Mu Gesheng was familiar with his sect's tricks and wasn't buying it. "Speak plainly. You didn't leave this illusion here just to expose Master's old secrets. What's the real issue?"
"This goes back a long time." The little monk scratched his scalp. "Before I died, I cast a hexagram. I calculated the lifeblood of the Seven Houses."
"Or rather, the root of their ruin." The monk sighed. "The world was in chaos back then, and I couldn't die in peace. I wanted to see how much longer my disciple would have to suffer in those troubled times. Calculating the national fate costs too much life, so I did something simpler and divined the fate of the Seven Houses."
Mu Gesheng’s eyelid twitched. "And?"
The little monk said slowly, "The lineages are about to break."
"Haven't you noticed? The Yin-Yang House is waning, the Mo House has lost its succession, the Zhu House is in seclusion, and you, as the Heavenly Calculator, are merely lingering on. Back then, the Seven Houses could determine the fate of the world or guard its peace. Now, even the Wuchangzi has to act according to Fengdu's whims. Have you never wondered why the Seven Houses have declined to this point?"
"I thought it was because spirits aren't allowed to manifest after the founding of the Republic," Mu Gesheng said. "I've been dead too long; I haven't had time to adapt to the modern era."
"...You certainly are broad-minded."
"You flatter me. But it seems things aren't as simple as I thought." Mu Gesheng pondered the monk's words and suddenly remembered something. "Wait, you missed one house. While the others are declining, the Medicine House is doing quite well. The next Lingshuzi is about to succeed the position; that little girl is quite promising."
The little monk was silent for a moment. "Why do you think the Lingshuzi lineage is still continuing?"
"...What do you mean?"
"I mean the Medicine House's lineage has already broken," the monk said. "There will never be another Lingshuzi."
"The last Lingshuzi, Chai Shuxin, bears a Heavenly Curse. Even the baleful aura of a Rakshasa cannot dissolve it—he did something that defied the heavens, and the price of that curse is the end of the Lingshuzi lineage."
"When you leave this illusion, you can try it yourself. The Pangeng Oracle Bones will no longer recognize a master. The Medicine House has already ended."
"Wait, wait." Mu Gesheng suddenly raised his hand, interrupting him.
"I cannot believe this based on your word alone. Besides, there's a huge loophole in your story. Even with all the Mountain Ghost coins, it's impossible to calculate the future so clearly."
"You've been dead for a hundred years. How could you know everything that happened afterward, including what Sanjiutian did?"
The little monk was momentarily stumped. After a pause, he said, "It seems your memories really are shattered into pieces."
"Why do you say that?"
"It is common knowledge that the Heavenly Calculator does not enter reincarnation after death, but no one in the Seven Houses knows for sure where the soul goes." The monk sighed. "But that's just the story we tell outsiders to intimidate them. Internally, we provide the truth. Qingbei must have told you; it seems you've forgotten it entirely."
"Forty-nine Mountain Ghost coins, each containing vast power. Have you never wondered where that power comes from?"
"The answer is that after a Heavenly Calculator dies, their soul is swallowed by the Mountain Ghost coins and converted into energy. That is why the coins are passed down through generations without being depleted; instead, they grow more profound."
"As for me, I'm an exception. I joined the sect halfway; I originally practiced Buddhist dharma, so my roots are a bit different." The monk said, "Therefore, I wasn't completely swallowed by the coins after death. I left behind a sliver of consciousness that can perceive things happening in the outside world—like when you used a Mountain Ghost coin to buy candied hawthorns, or when you and the Medicine House head trespassed into the West City Gate."
Mu Gesheng: "..."
The little monk pressed the Mountain Ghost coin into Mu Gesheng’s hand. "This coin contains a segment of the past from after you died. You can see for yourself what exactly happened back then."
Before he could finish, the surrounding space shook violently, letting out a tooth-grinding sound of shattering.
"I cannot keep you here much longer. The Rakshasa has the Red-Licking Blade; breaking this space is no difficult task for him." The monk looked toward the source of the sound. "I know you might find this hard to accept for now, but you aren't someone who can't see reason. You've had doubts about your revival and everything since, even if you haven't voiced them."
"I am a dead man; you are the current Heavenly Calculator. The decision of what to do next lies with you; I cannot force you."
"However, I hope you remember one piece of advice."
"The Rakshasa is an anomaly among the Seven Houses—the beginning of great chaos."
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
---|---|---
断心骨 | Severing the heart-bone | A punishment or ritual involving the removal of emotional attachments and memories.
白玉噎 | White Jade Draught | A legendary medicine of Penglai capable of healing all ailments.
长生子 | Changshengzi | "Master of Longevity," the title held by the Sect Leader of Penglai.
天算子 | Tiansuanzi | "Heavenly Calculator," the title for the leader of the Tiansuan Lineage.
灵枢子 | Lingshuzi | "Master of the Spiritual Pivot," the title for the leader of the Medicine House.
罗刹子 | Luoshazi | "Master of Rakshasa," a title associated with Chai Shuxin.
舐红刀 | Shihongdao | "Red-Licking Blade," the weapon held by Chai Shuxin.
山鬼花钱 | Mountain Ghost Amulet Coin | Ritual coins used by the Tiansuan Lineage for divination and power.
盘庚甲骨 | Pangeng Oracle Bones | The sacred artifact/inheritance of the Medicine House.
诸子七家 | Seven Houses of the Sages | The seven major occult/philosophical lineages in the story.
银杏书斋 | Ginkgo Study | The school/residence established by Mo Qingbei.
