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Translator: Silavin
In the thatched house of Nanshan Village, Lan’er told Doctor Zhu about her background, while her Mother was already in tears, unable to speak.
[Ahh… the life this pair of Mother and Daughter have led is truly pitiful.] In his medical practice, Doctor Zhu had seen many unfortunate Families, but he had never encountered a woman as ill-fated as Lan’er’s Mother, Hexiang.
“Has there been no news of your Father since then?” Doctor Zhu sighed.
Lan’er shook her head, “No news. We don’t know where to look.”
[A doctor can only treat physical ailments. How can one change the bitter fate of people?] Doctor Zhu’s heart was filled with sorrow.
“Hansheng, did you really cure Lan’er’s Mother’s Gradual Freezing Disease?” Doctor Zhu turned to ask his Son, his expression unusually solemn.
“Yes, I did, Dad.” Hansheng timidly looked at his Father.
[How is this possible? This is an incurable disease that even famous Traditional Chinese Medicine practitioners throughout history cannot treat.] His Father questioned in his mind.
“Hansheng, tell me honestly, is the Wood Silkworm you mentioned earlier the Silkworm from that Green Wood Egg? I know about charred human hair as a Medicine Catalyst.”
Hansheng nodded and softly said, “Dad, I broke open the Wood Egg and fed the Silkworm inside to Auntie.”
“Where did you get such a strange prescription?”
“Dad…” Hansheng remembered the letter’s warning, that the recipient of this knowledge must not reveal its origin, even to their parents. He was at a loss for words, not knowing how to respond.
“Hansheng, I’m asking you a question.”
Hansheng knew his Father’s temper. He knew he could not get through the day without answering. However, he also could not betray the trust of the ancient tomb’s owner. He was truly in a dilemma.
“Dad, when I fell from Dazhang Mountain, I was saved by a man who calls himself the Hermit of Wuchu Mountain. He lives in seclusion in Wolong Valley as a forest keeper and is proficient in many fields like astronomy, geography, medicine, and Feng Shui. He’s a learned man, and I learnt a lot from him.” Hansheng had no choice but to be vague, attributing everything to Uncle Hermit. Strictly speaking, he had not explicitly stated that the prescription came from him.
“Hermit of Wuchu Mountain?” Doctor Zhu had never heard someone call themselves this before.
※※※
“Lan’er, you and your Mother have no home to return to, so stay here for now. Hansheng, tidy up the west room for them to stay. You’ll sleep with me in the east room. I’ll go to Li Laoer’s house to get some pork.” Father instructed Hansheng.
Lan’er had yet to mention that Hansheng was planning to treat her Crying Blood Disease.
Seeing that his Father had walked away, Hansheng quickly advised Lan’er not to tell him yet.
After hearing about Lan’er’s background, Hansheng vaguely felt that she and her Mother might have some connection to the Hermit of Wuchu Mountain. He decided to find time to take Lan’er to meet him later. If Uncle Hermit turned out to be Lan’er’s long-lost Father, how wonderful it would be for the Family to reunite.
Lan’er was a diligent girl. In no time, she had cleaned both the east and west rooms inside out.
It was the first time they had guests staying, so his Father specially bought two kilograms of pork and a kilogram of liquor.
Lan’er and Hansheng picked some vegetables from the field. Everyone worked together to cook. The usually quiet house suddenly became lively. Even the yellow dog was excited, running back and forth, eyes fixed on the piece of pork.
While tending the fire in the stove pit, Hansheng whispered to Lan’er that he could treat her at 1am tonight. She would be cured by the latest, 11pm the next day.
During dinner, Father drank a few more cups, dispelling the resentment from being detained for two days. In the end, he drank too much, and Hansheng had to help him back to the room to rest.
Hansheng lay in bed without closing his eyes. He was counting the chimes of the old wall clock, afraid of missing the right time. When the clock struck 11pm, his Father’s snoring became loud. He quietly got up and tiptoed out of the east room.
The courtyard was bathed in cool moonlight. Everything was quiet, with occasional frog croaks from the distant pond.
In the west room, Lan’er and her Mother were sitting fully clothed on the bed, waiting for it to become 1am.
Hansheng quietly called Lan’er out, carrying a hoe to the old Camphor Tree outside the yard. He dug a hole about sixty centimetres deep. He brought a bucket of clear water and poured it into the hole, instructing Lan’er to continuously scoop the water up about a metre high and pour it back.
About half an hour passed, and it was 1am. Hansheng said it was ready.
“This is Midnight Slurry Water,” Hansheng carefully scooped some muddy water from the bottom of the pit and led Lan’er into be directly under the moonlight.
He took out the hard to obtain sanitary belt, spread it flat on the ground, and took out a paper package from his bosom. He evenly applied Plant Soot, mixed with the Slurry Water, on the sanitary belt.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed.
Lan’er hesitated for a moment, then obediently closed her eyes. Hansheng wrapped the sanitary belt around her face and tied it securely with a cloth strap.
“Remember, you can only remove it at 11pm tomorrow.” Hansheng sighed with relief.
He helped Lan’er back to the west room, then left. In the east room, his Father was still sleeping soundly. He quietly undressed and got into the bed, yawned as his body and mind relaxed, peacefully drifting off to sleep.
※※※
Zhu Biao’s house was located under the old Pagoda Tree at the north end of the village. On an earthen slope were three thatched rooms, with a large red painted door. Under the eaves hung a frame with a portrait of Chairman Mao Zedong wearing an olive-green military uniform, reviewing troops on Tiananmen Tower. In front of the house was a square pond, with lush bamboo groves on both banks.
[The house is inauspicious…] Wu Daoming thought to himself as he stood alone with his hands behind his back under the old Pagoda Tree.
He had been personally escorted here by Meng Zhuqi at dusk. At that time, Zhu Biao was cooking in the kitchen and was quite flattered to see the Nanshan Town chairman had visited him. He readily agreed to accommodate an old author from Guangdong in his house and promised to take good care of him.
Zhu Biao was still single in his thirties. Not only was he evaluated as an outstanding party member every year, but he was also a model community member and a Youth Shock Troop. Logically, such an excellent young man should not have trouble finding a partner, yet he remained single.
Meng Zhuqi had shared this information with Wu Daoming on their way to Nanshan Village.
[Hmph! This house with its red door is directly reflected in the square pond, and the back of the house is misaligned with the sun and the moon. This must be due to the Reflected Blood Basin configuration here. How extremely inauspicious. Those who live here will either be disabled or die young, and their Family line will end.]
Zhu Biao told him that both his parents were disabled and had passed away two years ago. His only Elder Brother had died in factional fighting during the Cultural Revolution.
[Indeed, as expected.] Wu Daoming mused.
He looked up at the old Pagoda Tree, its branches gnarled and its bark withered. It was probably hundreds of years old. The ‘槐’ in the name of the Pagoda Tree means Wood Ghost. The older it gets, the easier it attracts ‘unclean things’.
“I’ve heard that in ancient times, this area of Nanshan produced Five Coloured Earth Spawns. Do you know about this, Team Leader Zhu?” Wu Daoming probed during dinner.
Zhu Biao was bewildered: “Five Coloured Earth Spawns? How could there be such strange things?”
Wu Daoming smiled and stated, “It’s just hearsay. You know, authors tend to be very curious.”
The town had instructed that the needs of this author from Lingnan should be met, with all expenses to be reimbursed. Therefore, Zhu Biao not only bought liquor but also stewed chicken. It was the red rooster in the village, known for crowing the loudest every morning.
Zhu Biao drank a large bowl of liquor, his eyes turning red. He mysteriously said to the great author, “Mr. Wu, you’re a learned man. I want to ask you something. If a pregnant woman about to give birth suddenly dies, does the child in her belly die with her, or does it die after a while?”
“After a while?” Wu Daoming did not understand what exactly he was asking.
“I mean, the child in the belly might not want to die in its Mother’s womb before being born. Would the foetus harbour resentment?” Zhu Biao asked in a heavy voice.
“Naturally, the foetus would resent Heaven and men, but this is only if it’s developed enough,” Wu Daoming said.
“How many months is considered developed?” Zhu Biao’s expression was somewhat tense.
“The bigger the foetus, the greater the resentment. It’s strongest when it’s about to be born,” Wu Daoming looked at this village team leader with surprise. There seemed to be some fear in his eyes,
[This man. He must have something unspeakable hidden in his heart.] As he pondered, he looked closer at Zhu Biao’s face. His forehead was sunken, Left Temporal Bone had no angle to it, Nasal Bone extends all the way to his eyebrows, indicating a short life span.His Cheek Bones competed with his eyes, suggesting he has no future for an offspring. His voice was turbid.
[This man is truly of low character. It’s strange that such a person’s house is full of award certificates and honours. Still, such a person would be extremely easy to make use of. If one can resolve his doubts, he would revere the person like an Immortal. He’d be at your beck and call.]
Seeing all these signs, Wu Daoming decided to help him resolve his inner conflict and use him for his own purpose.
Silavin: Youth Shock Troop (青年突击手), youths who take on challenging and urgent tasks, from political to social emergency response efforts. It’s basically a title, an achievement.
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