When Mu Gesheng first entered the sect, he once asked Mo Qingbei, "Master, is the fate calculated by Heaven’s Divination always accurate?"
Mo Qingbei was feeding the fish at the time. Her hands were covered in sticky, messy fish food, and she was just looking for a place to wipe them. Seeing her disciple approach, she reached out and smeared the mess across the boy's face, asking warmly, "Why do you ask?"
Mu Gesheng wasn't picky. The fish food was handmade by Old Second, and anything Old Second made was bound to be delicious. He reached up, wiped the food off his face, and stuffed it directly into his mouth. "Because I was thinking—our family's skills are so formidable. If I ever wanted to mess with someone in the future, I could just calculate their entire life and tell them everything upfront. Wouldn't their remaining days be utterly boring?"
Mo Qingbei didn't scold him, merely offering a leisurely comment: "A child’s babble carries no harm."
Mu Gesheng chuckled, sucking his thumb as he continued, "But then I thought, what if that person has a fragile heart and accidentally drops dead from anger because of me? Wouldn't the rest of their life be wasted? In that case, would my calculation be considered accurate or not?"
Mo Qingbei asked, "What do you think?"
"I can't figure it out!" Mu Gesheng replied candidly. "That's why I'm asking you, Master!"
"Children's words carry no harm; the Heavenly Dao will not trouble you for such talk now," Mo Qingbei laughed. "As for me, it's hard to say. Do you want an answer today, or would you rather your Master live a little longer?"
Mu Gesheng rolled his eyes. "Why don't you calculate which one I'll choose, Master?"
Mo Qingbei laughed heartily. "Wentong started cooking honey-glazed duck this afternoon. It should be coming out of the pot right about now."
"Whoa! I'm off then!" Mu Gesheng immediately dashed away in high spirits. Before leaving, he didn't forget to snatch the rest of the fish food from Mo Qingbei’s hand to eat as he ran. Sticky rice and lotus paste clung from the tip of his nose to his chin, making him look like he’d peeled off half the skin of a water ghost. He ran into Wu Zixu in the corridor, who was so startled by his appearance that he stumbled. Not long after, an roar erupted from the kitchen: "Old Fourth! Keep your filthy hands off my pot! Do you want to die?!"
This was but a microscopic interlude in the not-so-long years of study at the Ginkgo Library. Later, as his studies deepened, Mu Gesheng gradually came to understand the logic behind it himself—fate is like longitude and latitude, intricately complex, where different causes lead to different effects.
In other words, a person's life holds countless possibilities. Just as he had said in his childhood, if one truly calculated someone's future, they were merely selecting one possible path from a vast sea of destinies to reveal. If the person truly died of anger, it simply meant that one specific thread of fate had been severed.
If someone's destiny was too light, the result from the Mountain Ghost Flower Coins would simply be: "So-and-so died of anger caused by the Heaven’s Diviner; their lifespan has reached its end." That made things easy—it didn't matter what the rest of their life was supposed to be; one could just make something up to tell them, since the person wasn't going to live long anyway.
Of course, that was far too wicked. Even a havoc-wreaker like Mu Gesheng had never actually entertained such thoughts. It wasn't until the power struggle within the House of Medicine, when some reckless junior from the Chai family sought him out at the City God Temple. Mu Gesheng had not been resurrected for long and was still a "medicine jar," lying half-dead in the backyard soaking up the sun. He was plotting how to surreptitiously dump the medicine brewing on the stove and blame it on someone else—just as he was pondering this, he looked up to see someone sneaking into the courtyard. The visitor threw something forward—an concealed weapon or something else—and Mu Gesheng tried to dodge but failed. A large, colorful mass flopped at his feet, wailing at the top of its lungs: "Heaven’s Diviner, please, you must help us!"
Mu Gesheng was stunned. He thought to himself, *I've been dead for so many years; how are the Seven Great Houses still playing this 'Honorable Judge' routine?*
His body hadn't fully recovered, and his mind was foggy. It took him a long time to realize this was an elder of the House of Medicine, a nephew or grand-nephew of Chai Shuxin from some distant branch—no, wait, not an elder, a junior.
Mu Gesheng rubbed his fifty-plus-year-old temples. Having been dead for so long, he wasn't quite used to suddenly being several decades older than he looked. A while back, Chai Shuxin had finally relented and taken him out for a stroll. He’d seen an old man playing chess by the roadside and couldn't resist playing a few rounds. They hit it off, and the old man asked, "Young man, you're an '80s kid, right?" Mu Gesheng’s brain wasn't quite in gear, and his tongue slipped: "What are you talking about? I'm a '10s kid." The old man didn't understand. "A '10s kid? What does that mean?" Mu Gesheng just went with it. "Don't mind me, I'm probably a few decades older than you. Born in the 1910s."
By the time Chai Shuxin finished buying groceries and came to find him, he saw Mu Gesheng talking up a storm, boasting back and forth with the old man. The old man said his son drove a Ferrari at Tiananmen; Mu Gesheng said he didn't have a son but he had a daughter. The old man said the lad looked like the type to dote on his wife, and Mu Gesheng slammed the table. "You've got that right! My wife is brilliant and kind, and cooks for me every day! Tonight we're having mushroom braised chicken!"
Chai Shuxin looked at the vegetables in his hand. Mu Gesheng had just woken up; his body couldn't handle heavy grease, so his diet was mostly light. He listened as the boasting grew wilder, Mu Gesheng’s life goals having already reached "three kids in two years." After a moment of silence, Chai Shuxin went back to the market and bought a chicken.
Of course, Mu Gesheng knew none of this. He only cared that the chicken soup that night was incredibly fragrant, and the chicken bones were so elegantly shaped they reminded him of Old Fifth when he was little.
Chai Shuxin rarely mentioned his family matters, especially after Mu Gesheng’s resurrection, and Mu hadn't found the right time to ask. Now that a member of the Chai clan had come knocking, as the Heaven’s Diviner and Chai Shuxin’s "kept" brother, he really ought to play the host.
Although the House of Medicine hadn't been great back then, New China had been established now; even the "Four Olds" should have cleared out that pile of ancient messes. Mu Gesheng was about to reach out and help the wailing fellow up when he heard the man say: "...Did you know that back then, the Luoshazi voluntarily withdrew from the House of Medicine?"
Mu Gesheng felt his ears might not have fully recovered. "...Huh?"
The other man added fuel to the fire, pouring out the old stories like beans from a bag, finally concluding: "The Luoshazi voluntarily gave up the position of Head of the House back then—it just goes to show how muddled he was!" He spoke with a long, mournful drawl, looking as if he’d learned how to wail for the dead from Cui Ziyu himself. Having finished, he lunged forward. "You must—"
Mu Gesheng pulled his leg back, letting the man fall flat on his face.
His head was buzzing; the information was too much, making him see stars. He tried to steady himself and asked the man, "Can you see the back kitchen?"
The junior was an old man himself by age, and the fall had taken a lot out of him. It took him a while to climb up with his cane, not understanding what Mu Gesheng was playing at. "What... what back kitchen?"
Mu Gesheng pointed behind him. "Right there! That wing in the back!"
The two of them were equally bleary-eyed. It took the old man a long time to find the kitchen Mu Gesheng was pointing at. "Heaven’s Diviner, what are you...?"
Mu Gesheng wobbled over, stood by the stove, and waved him over. "Come here—see this clay pot? Here, hold it... stand back a bit, don't bump into the stove at your age—"
The old man tremulously held the large pot, completely bewildered. Then he heard Mu Gesheng say: "Let go!"
Old man: "Huh?"
Mu Gesheng: "I said let go!"
The old man reflexively let go. With a loud *crash*, the clay pot shattered into pieces on the floor.
Immediately following was a *thud*. Mu Gesheng, seeing his scheme succeed, finally reached his physical limit and collapsed, fainting dead away. Before he lost consciousness, he didn't forget to shout toward the entrance: "Sanjiutian! I didn't break the medicine pot! He did it!"
According to Zhu Yinxiu’s later recollections, when he received the news and rushed over from Kunlun that day, he was nearly plucked bald. To stabilize Mu Gesheng’s barely-reassembled soul, Chai Shuxin didn't use ordinary medicinal ingredients. Back then, Old Second had hauled stacks of ancient texts out of the Mirage, and they had tried all sorts of inconceivable prescriptions; this time was no exception. The moment Zhu Yinxiu stepped into the City God Temple, his brother greeted him with a blunt: "I need Vermilion Bird feathers."
Zhu Yinxiu took one look at his brother's expression and didn't dare say a word. He found a side room, made a mess of things, and emerged looking half-bald in his human form. "Brother, is this enough?"
Chai Shuxin said nothing. He took the feathers and turned back into the room. Zhu Yinxiu felt something was wrong and paced anxiously until he saw Chai Shuxin emerge again, holding a blade.
He froze.
Chai Shuxin handed him the Shi Hong Blade and said softly, "Keep this for me for now."
Zhu Yinxiu stood dazed for a moment before slowly taking the blade.
He knew Old Second had entrusted the Shi Hong Blade to Chai Shuxin, and he understood the meaning behind Chai Shuxin handing it over now—the Luoshazi presided over slaughter. If Old Fourth couldn't be saved, his brother would likely lose control, and the Shi Hong Blade must never fall into the hands of a rampaging Luoshazi.
Chai Shuxin was silent for a moment before speaking abruptly: "If he doesn't wake up—"
Halfway through the sentence, the ancient blade let out a low hum.
Chai Shuxin seemed to snap awake, shaking his head. "I lost my composure." He turned and went back into the room.
Zhu Yinxiu stood in the courtyard, watching Chai Shuxin’s busy silhouette reflected on the window paper. He clutched the blade tightly, allowing his thoughts to drift for a moment. He thought that the former Mozi was truly something else, daring to leave the Shi Hong Blade to a Rakshasa; what she had left behind didn't seem like a weapon of slaughter, but rather a golden hoop—a final line of restraint.
But the one trapped by that hoop was far more than just his brother.
By the time Mu Gesheng finally woke up, several months had passed. He woke at a good time; the ginkgo leaves in the courtyard had turned yellow. The three of them moved chairs under the tree to bask in the sun, listening to Zhu Yinxiu slowly recount the events of the intervening years. Mu Gesheng’s brain still wasn't quite right; he often drifted off while listening. By the time he "returned to his soul" as if from a dream, the topic had moved ten thousand miles away. He would raise an eyebrow and ask, "Eh, where were we?"
Chai Shuxin didn't dare leave Mu Gesheng alone in the City God Temple anymore. He sat on a small stool under the ginkgo tree, brewing things—sometimes medicine, sometimes sweet porridge. If Zhu Yinxiu got something wrong or forgot a detail, he would speak up to correct him.
One day, what Chai Shuxin brewed in the pot was neither medicine nor porridge. He ladled it into a porcelain bowl, and Mu Gesheng took a sip. "Holy crap?" His hand shook, nearly dropping the bowl. "Is this ginkgo tea?"
He immediately turned to Chai Shuxin. "Is this the tea-roasting method Old Second taught you?"
Chai Shuxin was about to give him a soft cloth to hold the bowl with, but he paused at the words and gave a gentle nod.
Mu Gesheng’s spirits instantly lifted, and he began to pester Zhu Yinxiu, telling him stories of how he used to mess with the ginkgo tree as a child. Zhu Yinxiu immediately associated this with his own tragic childhood as a "scruffy chicken" at the Ginkgo Library, where Mu Gesheng’s tricks for tormenting him changed daily. His face turned green, and before long, he found an excuse to flee.
As the young man walked out, Mu Gesheng listened to the creak of the City God Temple’s gate closing and slowly leaned back against his chair.
He watched the ginkgo leaves fall, feeling a bit drowsy. He closed his eyes, looking truly like an old man as he hummed a snippet of a song:
"...In an instant, the feast is in disarray; the carriage heads east, the horse heads west. Who knows where he will rest tonight? Even in dreams, he is hard to find."
Chai Shuxin listened to him hum halfway through before he suddenly stopped. Chai immediately looked up.
He saw Mu Gesheng staring blankly at his teacup.
If one were to calculate carefully, the time they had spent together was both much and little. It was long enough to span from life to death, and from death back to life. Chai Shuxin had seen the man before him sleeping peacefully countless times, as if death were merely a long slumber. But as for Mu Gesheng’s truly vivid and spirited expressions, he had only seen them for a few short years.
Like right now, as Mu Gesheng held the tea, his face bore an expression Chai had never seen before.
He said, "Sanjiutian."
"I miss Old Second."
Perhaps at that moment, having just woken from a great dream with his soul not yet fully returned, Mu Gesheng’s sense of identity was still chaotic. He was a youth who had died, an old man of a bygone era, an elderly junior, and a bewildered elder. General Mu was no immortal, and the Heaven’s Diviner’s ambition in this life was to be a thoroughly mortal man. Facing the vast, eastward-flowing torrent of time, even an ordinary person could have a moment of childlike fragility.
But it was only that one time. Later, when Mu Gesheng’s health finally improved, Chai Shuxin took him to visit General Mu’s grave.
The man squatted down like an old friend, patted the tombstone, and said, "Old man, the seas are clear and the rivers are calm. You can rest easy now."
"Sleep well, General."
"Rest your head upon these magnificent mountains and rivers."
As for the Chai clansman who had come to file a complaint, he had long since been forgotten by Mu Gesheng’s still-faltering brain. Later, when he went to the kindergarten to pick up Wu Biyou, he somehow remembered the incident. Upon returning home, he asked Chai Shuxin, "Sanjiutian, what was the deal with you voluntarily leaving the House of Medicine back then?"
When he asked this, Chai Shuxin was reading the newspaper. Hearing the question, he silently straightened the paper, holding it up to block his face.
Every movement of the eldest young master of the Chai family screamed "evasion." Mu Gesheng was amused; the dense text on the newspaper seemed to scream back: *Since you forgot, why bring it up again?*
In truth, Mu Gesheng felt he had no right to interfere in the matter. Whether it was a minor Chai family affair or Chai Shuxin’s own private business, it wasn't his place as an outsider to meddle. A man living off his partner should have the self-awareness of a kept man, and Mu Gesheng felt he was very self-aware. Besides, after all these years, it was ancient history. It wasn't like an old couple bickering for spice; they had both died once already. Having lived from the smoke of war to a time of peace and prosperity, what was there left to be hung up on?
But he was just so bored.
Everyone at the Library knew that if a havoc-wreaker like Mu Gesheng got bored, everyone else was in for a bad time.
From then on, Mu Gesheng became obsessed with the television. He turned the volume up to a deafening level, and Chai Shuxin could hear the ridiculous lines from various romance and melodrama shows everywhere he went. "Ziwei! Why did you hide it from me!" "Erkang, I didn't mean to!" "Then what is the reason?" "I don't want to say, don't force me!"
The eldest young master of the Chai family endured and endured, until he could endure no more. When he couldn't take it, he would take the Shi Hong Blade and go sit in Fengdu for a while, giving the Ten Kings of Hell a collective case of nervous bladders.
The Luoshazi was visiting Fengdu every day; the Wu family couldn't stand it. They finally decided to send their family head to mediate. Thus, Wu Biyou, who had been in preschool for three years, arrived with his little backpack. The moment he entered the courtyard, he started fighting Mu Gesheng for the remote. "Why are you still watching this? It's so tacky!"
Mu Gesheng was happily cracking melon seeds. He had recently caught up on everything from Qiong Yao to Taiwanese and Korean dramas, from *The Story of a Noble Family* to *My Fair Princess*. Wu Biyou clicked the remote twice and changed the channel. A standard dubbed voice rang out from the speakers: "...In modern society, no matter how difficult the case, as long as it is a trap set by a human, there is no mystery that cannot be solved!"
Mu Gesheng: "Ooh, what's this good stuff?"
When Chai Shuxin came home that evening, he saw Mu Gesheng and Wu Biyou acting like a pair of stage performers. They had set up a large table in the courtyard, and Mu Gesheng was standing on top of it, looking like he was about to make a grand entrance. He cleared his throat and struck a pose. Seeing Chai Shuxin enter, he declared loudly: "Flowing water has no shape, drifting wind leaves no trace, the reasoning of any case depends on the heart! In the case of the Spiritual Pivot withdrawing from his position as Family Head, the only one who sees through the truth is the one who looks like a child but has the wisdom of an adult—Detective Conan!"
The man got more and more worked up, finally ending his long-winded speech with a roar: "There is only one truth!"
Chai Shuxin: "..."
The Yellow Ox poked its head out from the guardroom and whispered sneakily, "Luoshazi, what kind of person have you fallen for?"
"He is perfectly fine," Chai Shuxin said succinctly. He rolled up his sleeves, drew the Shi Hong Blade, and made a casual swipe, tearing open a rift between Yin and Yang. He then tossed the dancing Wu Biyou from under the table into the rift.
After that, Mu Gesheng became even more obsessed. Every day when Chai Shuxin came home, it was like opening a mystery box. Yesterday it was "What's new at Kasukabe Preschool? It turns out the Eldest Young Master Chai left the House of Medicine!" Tomorrow it would be "Eldest Young Master Chai left the House of Medicine—what hidden secrets lie behind this? Please watch today's episode of *Approaching Science*—" It was like a daily dose of desensitization therapy. Chai Shuxin almost got used to it. In all the decades he’d lived alone, he’d never updated his vocabulary of anime quotes so much at once. One day, as he walked in, Mu Gesheng made a gesture like raising his hand to speak, and Chai Shuxin immediately followed up with: "Tiga, transform!"
Zhu Yinxiu, who was following behind him, tripped over the threshold.
That night, Mu Gesheng performed a divination.
His Mountain Ghost Flower Coins were incomplete, and the Heaven’s Divination skills were too taxing on the mind, so he only did a shallow reading of the general situation regarding the House of Medicine. He couldn't manage the details of the Chai family's internal strife, but he could at least calculate the clan's fortune for the next few years.
Where to start? Mu Gesheng tossed the coins and pondered. He decided to start the divination with that fellow who had come to visit earlier—but before he could get two steps in, the life line snapped.
It was a clear omen: the man didn't have long to live.
Mu Gesheng suddenly remembered the conversation he’d had with his Master back at the Ginkgo Library.
He looked at the hexagram again. It clearly read: "So-and-so died of anger caused by the Heaven’s Diviner; their lifespan has reached its end."
Aha.
Mu Gesheng was instantly delighted. He went to Chai Shuxin’s room to find paper and ink, then sat on the floor and scribbled away until the other came to call him for dinner. "What are you writing?"
"Eh, Sanjiutian, you're here! Quick, take a look!" Mu Gesheng’s face was covered in ink as he excitedly showed him the manuscript. "This is my masterpiece, a culmination of all those dramas I watched! What do you think?"
Chai Shuxin took it and read. It was indeed a "masterpiece." Mu Gesheng’s brain was currently stuck in romance dramas and anime, and he had woven a thrilling second half of life for that old man from the House of Medicine. It involved his true identity being the illegitimate son of some uncle, epic melodramatic romances, an outsider rising to power, and inheritance feuds. Chai Shuxin read it seriously, then asked one question: "What is 'running away with the ball'? And what does 'crematorium' refer to?"
"You wouldn't know," Mu Gesheng said proudly. "I even did a divination; this is exactly what's going to be trendy in the coming years!"
"It's very well written," Chai Shuxin nodded. He stacked the papers neatly, tucked them into his robe, and said, "But no."
"What do you mean, no?" Mu Gesheng grew anxious. "Sanjiutian, why are you snatching my stuff?"
Chai Shuxin walked slowly toward the kitchen, with Mu Gesheng shouting and following behind him. "Sanjiutian! Give it back!"
"No means no."
"Hey, how old are you? Why are you acting like a child?"
"You're the one watching anime and romance dramas. You're the child."
"That's just sophistry!"
"It's based on sound reasoning."
Mu Gesheng couldn't get it back, so he just started making a scene. "You're heartless! You're cruel! You're being completely unreasonable!"
"Which drama did you copy that line from?" Chai Shuxin sighed. "And you say you're not a child."
The two of them bickered in the corridor. Zhu Yinxiu, waiting in the room, was nearly starving to death. He listened to the eavesdropping and sighed. "What are they fighting about now?"
The Yellow Ox also sighed. "It's still that mess with the old man from the House of Medicine who came to complain."
"I have to say, they've got guts," Zhu Yinxiu remarked. "I haven't seen my brother argue with anyone like this in years. Whoa—what was that sound? Did they start throwing hands? With Old Fourth’s current physique? If he so much as lifts a hand, wouldn't my brother be scared to death?"
The Yellow Ox was too hungry to respond, so he forgot to tell Zhu Yinxiu that the crashing sounds of bowls and chopsticks weren't coming from the Heaven’s Diviner and the Rakshasa. They were coming from another room—Mu Gesheng had left the TV on, playing romance dramas for a day and a night without turning it off.
Have some pity on him; even the City God has to pay the electricity bill.
Later, Chai Shuxin couldn't win against him and only said one thing: "In your story, you included one of his cousins who married his childhood sweetheart."
There were too few clues; Mu Gesheng thought for a long time before remembering who he was talking about. It took him even longer to realize that, in terms of seniority, Chai Shuxin’s identity happened to match that cousin perfectly.
"Oh." That was a bit awkward. Mu Gesheng scratched his cheek. "Sanjiutian, are you upset? My bad."
He had only written that one line, never mentioning the childhood sweetheart's name or background. "How about I change it for you? What kind of girl do you like?"
"No need to change it," Chai Shuxin said.
"Huh?" Mu Gesheng didn't understand. "You're not mad?"
"I am not angry."
"That's good then." Mu Gesheng was relieved. "Then give it back. I spent a long time writing that."
Chai Shuxin looked at him and said two words very seriously: "I won't."
Mu Gesheng: "..."
Having no choice, Mu Gesheng had to write another version. After some thought, he deleted the plot point Chai Shuxin had mentioned. The next day, he sent the manuscript directly to the Chai family. A few days later, the old man of the Chai family departed for the path of reincarnation. Wu Biyou stood on the Yin-Yang path with his little backpack, fuming with resentment. "I finally had an art class today! Why did I have to come send off some old man!"
As for where the original manuscript was kept by Chai Shuxin, Mu Gesheng didn't know. But he remembered the incident. On the night they finally "broke the window paper" and confessed, he lay on the pillow and had a sudden realization: "Childhood sweetheart! So that's what you were waiting for!"
He then laughed himself silly, blowing a breath into Chai Shuxin’s ear. "Eldest Young Master Chai, you're really something."
He sighed with a smile. "Do you know what my biggest takeaway was after watching all those romance dramas?"
Chai Shuxin was lost in a daze of passion. It took him a long time to muster a shred of consciousness to ask, "...What was it?"
Mu Gesheng tilted his head up to kiss him. "Life is but a fleeting moment; a spring night is worth a thousand gold."
"People really ought to use their words."
***
