Chapter 55: So It Was All a Scheme (Part Two)

The sky had already darkened. By the light of the moon, it was possible to make out Daoist Shouyin and Manager Wu standing for a long time before a solitary grave in the distance. Daoist Shouyin gestured toward the grave, speaking incessantly to Manager Wu, who merely nodded and agreed, his head bobbing like a praying mantis, but never uttering a word in reply.

Daoist Shouyin spoke at length, but the content of his conversation was entirely lost to Zhang Chi, who was too far away to hear a single word. The two remained before the grave for quite some time before Daoist Shouyin led Manager Wu deeper into the heart of Mount Kuaiji. Daoist Shouyin walked ahead, Manager Wu followed closely behind, but as Zhang Chi watched their departing figures from afar, he could not shake a sense of strangeness.

He had seen Daoist Shouyin’s back before, especially during their time at the Jiankang Temple, where he had once mocked the Daoist, and witnessed him leave in shame, sleeves flung up like the wings of a duck. That image had stayed with him. Yet now, observing the Daoist's silhouette again, it seemed somehow changed, though he could not pinpoint how.

Dao Xuan, seeing the pair heading toward Mount Kuaiji, urged Zhang Chi, “Brother Zhang, they must be going to the stronghold of the Five Bushels of Rice Sect. Let’s hurry down from the tree and follow them!”

Zhang Chi replied noncommittally, “Let’s get to the ground first and see.”

Dao Xuan grabbed both men by the waist and, with a nimble leap, set Zhang Chi and Meng Feiyang on the ground. As soon as he landed, Zhang Chi hurried to the grave, carefully examining the inscription on the headstone. As Meng Feiyang had predicted, it was indeed the tomb of Du Zigong.

Dao Xuan, seeing the two men disappearing into the distance, quickly caught up and pressed Zhang Chi, “Brother Zhang, we must follow them or else we’ll lose their trail in the depths of the forest.”

“No need,” Zhang Chi replied calmly.

“We’re not going to follow?” Dao Xuan was thoroughly confused. If they didn’t pursue these two, wouldn’t the clues about the Wine Maiden come to an abrupt end?

“We won’t follow. We’re returning to Shanyin.” Zhang Chi had his own reasoning. Ruoshui, the young woman from the Immortal Pavilion, was Du Zigong’s disciple. He simply couldn’t believe that such a sought-after woman would offer herself to him merely because he could compose a few mediocre poems.

Moreover, Ruoshui clearly knew that he was the one called ‘Heaven’s Secret.’ If he didn’t clarify the reasons behind this, any investigation would be but a vague search through mist and flowers, never seeing the truth. It was better to get the whole story straight before making any further plans.

With this in mind, Zhang Chi wasted no time, mounting his white steed.

“What are we doing back in Shanyin?” Dao Xuan asked.

“We’re going to the Immortal Pavilion. There’s something I must ask Ruoshui.” The reasoning behind this was complicated, and Zhang Chi had no desire to explain. He simply took the lead, riding toward Shanyin, and the others, seeing no alternative, could only follow quickly.

Zhang Chi arrived at the gates of the Pavilion. After all the night’s commotion, it was already late; the Pavilion was silent, the guests either gone or settled for the night. Entering the main hall without a word, Zhang Chi went straight upstairs.

A maid blocked his way, “Sir, if you seek pleasure, please come tomorrow. The second floor is not for casual visitors.”

Zhang Chi was well aware of the rules here. He said, “Sister, could you please inform Ruoshui that Zhang Chi has come to see her?”

“My lady is already asleep. She won’t see anyone,” the maid replied impatiently, accustomed to admirers seeking Ruoshui daily.

“Who says I won’t see him?” Before the maid could turn Zhang Chi away, Ruoshui appeared behind her, smiling. “If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t see them, but Young Master Zhang is always welcome, whenever he arrives. Please, come with me to my chamber.”

The maid, used to receiving only well-dressed gentlemen, had never seen Ruoshui treat anyone so warmly, let alone welcome someone into her chamber at night. Though surprised, she dared not question it and watched the two ascend to Ruoshui’s room.

As Zhang Chi entered, Ruoshui closed the door and stood before him, speaking with gentle reproach, “You hurried away earlier—was it because you despise women from places like this?”

Having taken the Five Stone Powder, Zhang Chi was already restless, and with Ruoshui so close, breathing fragrance, he struggled to control his desires. Still, he was caught in the middle of events; without clarity, he dared not act on impulse.

He did not object to a night of passion, but first, he needed to understand the situation.

“There’s something I don’t understand, and I’ve come back specifically to ask you,” Zhang Chi said, maintaining composure despite his racing heart.

Ruoshui praised him, “To keep such poise after taking Five Stone Powder, your self-control is extraordinary. Please, speak openly.”

“Du Zigong is your master. Does that mean you belong to the Five Bushels of Rice Sect?” This was what Zhang Chi cared about most. If Ruoshui was indeed a member, then perhaps she could help rescue the Wine Maiden.

Ruoshui hesitated for a moment, recalling how Zhang Chi had left abruptly earlier, likely wary of her intentions. She smiled, nodded, and said, “You are correct. I am indeed of the Celestial Master’s Way. But you need not worry—I have no intention of harming you.”

“Is that so?” Zhang Chi did not believe her. “Then why do you, an accomplished woman, favor me, who has nothing to offer?”

Seeing his doubt, Ruoshui pondered before answering, “Since you remember I said Du Zigong was my master, you should also recall that I said I am here waiting for someone to avenge him.”

Zhang Chi thought back. Indeed, Ruoshui had said as much. “But what does your quest for vengeance have to do with me?”

“It has everything to do with you, because you are the one who can avenge him.” Ruoshui spoke with conviction.

“What?” This statement shocked Zhang Chi so much that he could not help but cry out.

“Do not be surprised, listen as I explain,” Ruoshui said. “My master, Du Zigong, was truly a rare genius in cultivation. His Daoist arts were extraordinary; he could perceive past and future, and his predictions were always accurate. Yet he could foresee others’ fates, not his own, and was eventually betrayed and killed. Before dying, he told me that his powers were innate, not acquired, what people call ‘Heaven’s Secret.’ Moreover, he was not the only one with such abilities.”

Such mysterious talk left Zhang Chi unimpressed. Powers to see past and future? He had never believed in such things, considering them mere tricks used by Daoists to deceive the masses.

But Ruoshui continued, “My master was betrayed. As he lay dying, he told me that another would appear in time, possessing the same ability to perceive past and future—Heaven’s Secret. Only Heaven’s Secret could avenge him.”

“How do you know I am this ‘Heaven’s Secret’?” Zhang Chi asked, both amused and skeptical.

“There’s a way. My master left behind the Seven Characters of Daoism, saying that anyone who knows these seven words must be Heaven’s Secret, with the power to understand all things, past and future. I have lived in this place, honoring scholars, hoping one day to meet someone who knows these seven characters.”

“Oh? What are these seven words, so powerful that knowing them grants access to all mysteries?” Zhang Chi didn’t believe it, but Ruoshui’s words piqued his curiosity.

Ruoshui smiled, turned, and produced a sheet of paper. “In fact, you are the one who knows the Seven Characters, otherwise how could you fill in the missing word so perfectly?”

What Seven Characters? Zhang Chi was bewildered, but when he saw the paper Ruoshui presented, he was stunned. It was none other than what he had thought to be a fill-in-the-blank puzzle: “East, South, West, North, Center, Fortune, White.” The last character, “White,” was scrawled, crooked as a dog’s paw—exactly as he had written it.

“You mean these seven words are the Seven Characters of Daoism?” Zhang Chi was incredulous.

“Exactly. The last character ‘White’ was written by you. Over the years, I have sought out countless scholars, but none ever filled in the last character correctly—only you, without any hesitation, wrote what my master described. He said that whoever knows these seven characters can perceive past and future—they are Heaven’s Secret!” Ruoshui spoke with absolute certainty.

The more Zhang Chi thought, the more shocked he became. These words were unmistakably the names of the tiles in mahjong; he had never seen them elsewhere. How could such words be left by the ancients? Unless...

He could hardly believe it, but the only reasonable explanation was that Du Zigong, like himself, was a traveler from another time. This would explain how he could “know the past and future”—if Du Zigong understood this era even a little, it would be easy to impress the locals.

Only if Du Zigong was a fellow traveler would he devise this method: instructing Ruoshui to seek out others like him for vengeance. After all, a traveler cannot advertise his identity openly; in this vast world, how else could he be found? Hence, he invented the Seven Characters. No one in this era would know their meaning, but any traveler would recognize them, since mahjong would one day become universally popular. There would be few travelers who didn’t know “East, South, West, North, Center, Fortune, White.”

Zhang Chi was increasingly astonished. He had never suspected that he was not alone in this world. If Du Zigong was indeed a traveler, how did he know others would arrive? Could there be more?

Zhang Chi stood frozen, mouth agape, stunned for the length of a cup of tea, unable to move at all.