“Let me out…” For who knows which time, as soon as Danqing’s procrastination over copying the Zhuangzi flared up, she ran to the door, feigning weakness as she patted and called out, hoping some compassionate senior disciple passing by might rescue her from her plight.
As she wished, a figure appeared by the door. “Hmm… if I let you out, the temple master will blame me; if I don’t, hearing you sound so pitiful, I can’t bear it. What should I do, little junior sister?” The translucent paper on the door cast a silhouette of someone’s profile. Hearing the amusement in his tone, Danqing rolled her eyes. Her senior brother was bored and seeking entertainment, and he’d picked her as the target. Hmph, she wasn’t going to play along.
Danqing haughtily returned to her desk, ground some ink, dipped the Zihao brush into a bit of ink, lifted the brush to write… She glanced outside—the silhouette hadn’t moved. Hmph, how boring.
“Little junior sister? Little junior sister, are you still there?” Hearing no movement from Danqing, the person outside tentatively knocked on the door twice.
“I’m not!” Danqing shouted.
“Is that so?” The person outside pondered for a moment. “But I seem to hear sounds inside, and little junior sister isn’t there… Could it be that little junior sister has been eaten by a monster?” As if provoked, he suddenly yelled, “Evil creature, prepare to die! By the decree of the Supreme Lord Laozi!”
A fireball shot through the door straight toward Danqing!
What… what is this? Danqing was instantly dumbfounded. This must be an illusion, some trick played by a senior brother! As if answering her thoughts, the fireball stopped just before Danqing, hovering in the air. If the fireball had eyes, it would likely be staring back at Danqing, curiously examining her. The fireball’s light wasn’t as blinding as the midday sun; Danqing could look directly at it. The two were very close, and waves of heat washed over her face.
“Ah, Little True Fire has the ambition to vanquish demons and monsters, showing no mercy when encountering evil. Why isn’t it reacting now?” The puzzled voice of the senior brother outside came through. Danqing rolled her eyes—she was human, not some demon or monster. “Could it be that little junior sister is still alive? That must be it. How dare you deceive your senior brother, little junior sister! Little True Fire, shall we teach her a lesson?”
The hovering fireball bounced up and down, swiftly circled Danqing once, then bumped into her. “Ow! That’s hot!” Suddenly scalded, Danqing’s eyes welled up with tears from the burning pain. Clutching her innocent, injured buttocks, she dodged around the room. The fireball followed her like a shadow; wherever Danqing hid, it bumped into another innocent, injured spot.
An ordinary child, when bullied, would cry first thing. A slightly more advanced response would be crying and seeking an adult to avenge them, or rallying a group of little “enforcers” to fight back. But Danqing had long bid farewell to that phase, stepping into the new world of the second dimension, where haughtiness was now her defining trait.
She simply burrowed into Fu Yun’s bedding, wrapping herself tightly in the quilt, and declared fearlessly, “Hmph, go ahead and burn me if you dare. Come at me if you have the guts.”
The fireball hovered mid-air, not approaching Fu Yun’s bed. After a while, it passed through the door to find the person outside. Danqing’s eyes widened—that was a wooden door! It passed through without setting it on fire. Could it be understood that this fireball could also pass through the bed without burning the bedding and poking her?
“Little junior sister, you’re so boring~” The senior brother outside sounded quite aggrieved. “Senior brother just wants to play with you.”
“Alright, come in then,” Danqing said. “Either you come in, or you let me out, and I’ll play with you.”
“That’s a bit difficult,” the senior brother replied quickly. “If I let you out, the temple master uncle will blame me; if I don’t let you out, hearing you sound so pitiful, I can’t bear it. There’s the temple master uncle’s Restrictive Seal on the door latch, so if I come in, he’ll definitely notice.” He circled back to the original topic.
“Senior brother, I look down on you.” Danqing, wrapped in a quilt, rolled off the bed and moved closer to the desk. This senior brother wanted to have fun but wouldn’t let her out. She might as well obediently copy the Nanhua Jing and wait for Fu Yun to release her.
“Ah, don’t be like that, senior brother will be very sad. Little junior sister, do you want to join our ‘Dingfengbo Association’? If you join, you won’t have to worry about being punished with wall-facing meditation by the temple master uncle when you have nothing to do.”
Dingfengbo Association, what on earth is that? “Senior brother sure talks big. I’d like to ask, who’s in charge of this Zhiwei Guan?”
“Naturally, it’s the temple master uncle.”
“So you see, senior brother, next time you tell a lie, make it more believable.”
No one answered anymore. Danqing looked up, and the figure by the door was gone. After copying a few more chapters, the door was pushed open. Danqing looked up to see Fu Yun entering the room, accompanied by a smiling Taoist priest in a blue robe, who must be that fun-loving senior brother. He looked unfamiliar.
Fu Yun glanced over the Nanhua Jing she was copying and said, “This is Bi Xiao from our sect’s Chunyang Palace. Call him senior brother.”
Oh, Chunyang Palace… “Alright, hello, Senior Brother Bi Xiao.”
“Good, you don’t need to copy anymore. Bi Xiao said he’ll take you around to see the sights.” Fu Yun waved his hand, and the matter was settled just like that.
Naturally, Danqing was happy not to be confined, but—”Why is he taking me around to see the sights, and not me taking him around?”
“Hehe, because I’m familiar with this place. Uncle, I’m taking the little girl out to play.” With that, he grabbed Danqing by the collar and led her out. “Isn’t senior brother great? I got Uncle to open the door for you to come out and play. So, do you want to consider joining our association?”
“Hmph.”
“What do you mean, ‘hmph’? It’s a great place to earn extra money. Don’t believe me?” Seeing Danqing’s skeptical expression, Bi Xiao took out a copper coin, casually tossed it into the air, and caught it in his open palm. “This way, let’s go.”
Zhiwei Guan was bustling with worshippers. Devotees held large incense sticks that would take hours to burn or dozens of smaller ones, carefully avoiding others as they made their way to the halls, where they bowed three times with sincerity before placing the incense in the large dedicated censors. Today was neither the first nor the fifteenth day of the lunar month, but the combined smoke from the burning incense was thick and pungent.
Ran Gusheng moved with the crowd, mimicking the devotees’ bows whenever they paid their respects. The clay idols here were much larger than those in his own home—was that why they were considered more efficacious? Ran Gusheng didn’t quite understand, but he followed the crowd and bowed to all the deities enshrined in Zhiwei Guan. “Cough, cough, so smoky.” After leaving the Three Pure Ones Hall, Ran Gusheng looked around. In the distance, there was a red tree, and it seemed less smoky there.
Ran Gusheng finally found a place free from incense smoke and immediately felt the air was truly fresh. The old tree’s branches were covered with red cloth strips, and at first glance, it looked as if the tree’s leaves were naturally red.
“There are so many people worshipping here,” Ran Gusheng murmured to himself. Suddenly, a heavy object struck his head, and he clutched it, exclaiming, “Ouch, that hurts!”
“Oh dear, my mandarin orange is ruined. Why are you just standing here, kid? If you’re not making a wish, move along. My mandarin orange… I’ll have to replace it now.” The heavy object that hit Ran Gusheng turned out to be a mandarin orange. The loud-voiced woman picked it up, wiping its surface with distress, only to find the other side smashed and juice seeping out. Seeing Ran Gusheng empty-handed and sitting under the tree, she couldn’t help but scold him.
“Oh.” Afraid the mandarin orange might target his head again, Ran Gusheng quickly moved away.
Red cloth strips with written wishes were tied to mandarin oranges. People held them in their hands, closed their eyes to make wishes, and then, aiming for the high branches, tossed them upward… The red strips tied to the mandarin oranges arced through the air before falling to the ground. They would pick up their “wishes” and toss them again. Some were overjoyed when their strips caught on the branches, dancing with delight before leaving contentedly.
“Young master, would you like to make a wish? It’s very effective,” called a Taoist priest who had set up a stall not far from the wishing tree, noticing Ran Gusheng staring blankly at the crowd beneath it.
Ran Gusheng glanced around; he seemed to be the youngest person nearby, so he ran over to the priest. “If I make a wish, will I stop having nightmares and sleep well every night?”
“Well…” The priest was speechless, not expecting the child to ask such an odd question right away. Nightmares could be caused by environmental influences or many other factors. Making a wish was about seeking peace of mind and placing hope in something—it wasn’t a guarantee to stop nightmares. Realizing he might seem flustered in the child’s eyes, the priest cleared his throat. “Sincerity brings results.” Ran Gusheng tilted his head thoughtfully, his eyes sparkling, and declared, “I want to make a wish too!”
The priest fetched five red cloth strips and five mandarin oranges, ground some ink, and held out his hand, saying, “Five coins, please.” “…” Ran Gusheng stared blankly at the priest, who maintained his outstretched hand, waiting for payment.
Bi Xiao arrived with Danqing just in time to see the frozen tableau of the two, as if time itself had slowed around them. Danqing looked at Bi Xiao in confusion. “Is this the side hustle you mentioned?”
“Not at all, not at all. Our association takes on tasks to help people solve their troubles, charging just a small fee afterward. Would you trade a moment of pain for a lifetime of happiness?” Bi Xiao gestured with two fingers in a money-counting motion, his lips curling into an exaggerated smile, his eyes narrowed into slits that faintly gleamed with shrewdness.
Give me back the ethereal, immortal Taoist priest. Danqing couldn’t bear to look directly, turning away to cover his face, though his fingers parted slightly, secretly observing Bi Xiao’s greedy expression. Even with this covetous, mercenary look, he was still rather pleasing to the eye.
“What are you doing?” Bi Xiao locked onto her target, calling Danqing over as she lowered her head, only to find Danqing turning away with her face covered. Through the gaps between her fingers, her eyes gleamed brightly, like the green glow of a wolf eyeing its prey in the night. Bi Xiao felt a chill run down her spine and asked, “What are you doing?” “Just fixing my hair,” Danqing replied, lowering her hands. “Go on, I’m listening.” “That child’s family has some trouble—this is just a business deal,” Bi Xiao signaled to Danqing, then gracefully walked over, interrupting the intense gaze between the two. “Young man, does someone in your family have an issue?” “How did you know?” Ran Gusheng turned around abruptly. “Let me ask you this—do you wish for that person in your family to be safe and well?” Bi Xiao smiled. Ran Gusheng nodded vigorously. The Taoist who had been locking eyes with Ran Gusheng, seeing someone interrupt his business and recognizing a “fellow practitioner,” was about to speak up. Bi Xiao extended a hand, pointing in a direction to send him off to find Qianzhi.