Guan Shihua

So, unless absolutely necessary, he would never use it.

"You child."

Qing He Miao's mother only half understood what she had heard and murmured a gentle reproach.

But her son's extraordinary confidence set her mind somewhat at ease.

She asked no more questions. Taking another two or three hundred yuan from her pocket, she carefully tucked it into the inside pocket of Qing He Miao's coat and pressed it down firmly.

"Take this and spend it carefully. When you're away from home, don't always use your master's money."

Master Chai helped reassure her from the side.

"Don't worry. The place we're going is very dependable, and the people there are all top figures in our circle. It's perfectly safe. I guarantee I'll bring Miaozi back with every hair intact. Just think of it as letting the child travel and see the world."

Amid the reluctance to part and the lingering worry, Qing He Miao's father started the family's farm tricycle. It puttered along, belching black smoke as it carried master and disciple to the county train station.

Before they entered the station, his father gave him another round of detailed reminders, only stopping once they had bought their tickets and entered the waiting room.

Only then did Qing He Miao find a place to sit with his master, their luggage on their backs.

In this era, planes and expressways were still uncommon ways for ordinary people to travel, and high-speed rail had yet to become a concept.

The main means of long-distance travel were still green trains and long-distance buses, making train stations crowded, noisy places where people from all walks of life gathered.

The smells of sweat, smoke, instant noodles, and cheap perfume mingled in the hot, stuffy air. Migrant workers carrying woven sacks, business travelers with briefcases, passengers with their whole families in tow, and idle figures with wandering eyes made up a bustling scene peculiar to the waning years of the train station's heyday.

Master Chai thought this was Qing He Miao's first long journey and that he would feel uneasy in such a crowded, chaotic place, so he took care to reassure him.

"Stay close. Don't look around, and don't talk to strangers. It'll be better once we're on the train."

Little did he know that Qing He Miao was not afraid at all. Instead, he felt a little nostalgic for the scene at the train station.

At the same time, he could not help finding fault with the train system's various underdeveloped facilities in this era, which were far from comfortable.

Perhaps only a "returnee" like him could understand such contradictory feelings.

Fortunately, neither of them was an ordinary person.

Though Master Chai's cultivation was not high, he had spent years traveling through the countryside and more than half his life making his way in the world. He was experienced, a seasoned old hand through and through.

Qing He Miao was even more mature in mind than his appearance suggested.

Throughout the journey, buying tickets, waiting for the train, squeezing aboard, stowing their luggage, and dealing with the occasional petty theft or unreasonable quarrel on the train posed no difficulty for the master-and-disciple pair.

Master Chai led the way with his experience and a measure of rural toughness.

Every generation had its own experience. When traveling in this period, reasoning with people alone was not enough to keep trouble at bay.

Qing He Miao, meanwhile, made sure not to get in the way.

Even when he knew of solutions that would seem more civilized in later years, he did not voice them carelessly.

Things went smoothly enough.

The train chugged east for a long time, after which they transferred to a bumpy long-distance bus in a hub city.

Finally, they rode for a stretch in a locally operated, privately run "black cab."

After several days of traveling like this, master and disciple finally arrived at their destination.

It was a mountainous area named for the three towering peaks visible when looking up from the east, south, or north, which resembled a gigantic iron fork.

By now, the mountain had been partially developed into a tourist attraction.

But whether it was the road into the mountain, the rudimentary fencing, or the facilities inside, none were anywhere near as complete and convenient as they would be in later years.

Much of its wild, rugged character remained intact.

Master Chai led Qing He Miao to a stop on a gravel clearing at the foot of the mountain and looked up at the three green peaks appearing and disappearing amid the clouds and mist.

He turned and patted his disciple's hair, slightly damp with sweat, and asked in a somewhat dry voice:

"We've been walking a long time. Are you hungry? Want some water?"

After all that travel, neither of them was well-off, and they had limited money for the journey.

Master Chai was as thrifty as the older generation tended to be. Apart from necessary fares, he saved wherever he could.

On many stretches between one point of transport and the next,

they had covered the distance on foot, relying on strength beyond that of ordinary people.

Along the way, they had passed through some modern cities.

They had come across plenty of foods that existed now and that Qing He Miao would often eat in the future.

But now, they were not things he could simply buy whenever he wanted.

Their aromas drifted on the wind, making even Qing He Miao swallow.

By his reckoning, it had been thirteen or fourteen years since he had eaten many of those things.

He took it all in stride.

In another five or six years, the economy would develop further, ordinary people's incomes would rise, and money would no longer be as "valuable."

Naturally, he would be able to enjoy those foods again.

Compared with that, he wanted more to find somewhere to take a proper bath.

Seeing Master Chai's own Adam's apple move slightly as he asked, Qing He Miao naturally understood their present predicament. He shook his head, his expression open and straightforward.

"I'm not hungry, and I still have water. Master, getting there is more important."

Master Chai swallowed against his own dry throat, unscrewed the large insulated flask he carried, and tipped his head back to take a small sip of the tea, which had long since turned lukewarm. Smacking his lips, he said:

"Mm, bear with it a little longer. Once we get there, we should be able to have something hot."

The old man hated to spend money and had not even been willing to buy bottled mineral water along the way, drinking only hot water he had managed to get.

By comparison, he treated Qing He Miao a little better, offering several times to buy him drinks.

But Qing He Miao had not minded throughout the journey and had been content to use an insulated cup as well.

Such understanding and resilience beyond his years left Master Chai both gratified and somewhat pained.

After a short rest, Master Chai led Qing He Miao up the mountain.

They did not take the repaired stone-paved path by the main entrance's ticket office, instead following a footpath worn into the ground.

When they reached a fork halfway up the mountain, Qing He Miao had expected them to continue straight up.

To his surprise, Master Chai changed direction, leaving the main scenic area behind and turning onto a more secluded dirt road.

Puzzled, Qing He Miao could not help looking back several times in the direction of the scenic area.

Seeing Qing He Miao repeatedly glance toward the outline of the scenic area's peaks as they grew more distant,

Master Chai thought he was curious about the scenery and reluctant to leave it behind. Thinking that he was a child at heart after all, he smiled and promised:

"Once we've taken care of our business, if there's enough time, I'll take you up that mountain to broaden your horizons."

Qing He Miao again shook his head and looked away.

"It's all right, Master. Our business comes first. In three or five years, I'll bring you out to see the scenery."

Master and disciple said no more, and their figures soon disappeared into the lush mountain forest.

Chapter 14: Guan Shihua

The path underfoot grew harder and harder to navigate, a completely undeveloped rural dirt road.

But for the two of them, who came from the countryside and possessed extraordinary arts, it was hardly an obstacle.

Master Chai walked steadily and lightly, showing the foundation he had built through years of practicing Qi.

Leading Qing He Miao, he sometimes even used vines or tree trunks for a little support, moving through the mountain forest with even greater ease than on level ground.

Soon, they passed through a dense pine forest, and the view suddenly opened onto a stretch of mountainside with an uneven but relatively orderly layout.

More than a dozen farmsteads were scattered across it, most built from a mixture of brick and stone, with a simple sturdiness characteristic of the area.

Master Chai got his bearings and led Qing He Miao straight toward the courtyard on the edge, the one that occupied the most land, had the highest walls, and looked the neatest.

A few steps from the courtyard gate, Master Chai stopped, showing a rare hint of nervousness.

He first patted the dust and bits of grass from his clothes, then straightened his somewhat wrinkled collar. After taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, raised his hand, and knocked on the heavy log gate.

"Knock, knock, knock."

The knocking sounded especially clear in the quiet mountain valley.

Before long, steady footsteps came from inside the courtyard, and the gate creaked open a crack.

Behind it stood a burly man from beyond the pass, broad-shouldered and thick-backed, around twenty-one or twenty-two years old and full of youthful vigor.

He wore a coarse-cloth shirt washed pale, with the lines of his muscles faintly visible beneath the fabric. His whole bearing radiated a fierce vitality honed in the mountains.

Leaving aside the slightly unfashionable hairstyle of the era, his features alone were upright and rugged.

The man's gaze was sharp. As soon as he opened the gate, he quickly swept his eyes over Master Chai and Qing He Miao like a wild beast.

His gaze lingered briefly on Qing He Miao, a half-grown child.

"What can I do for you?"

The man who had opened the gate had the hearty voice typical of those from beyond the pass, but he did not immediately step aside.

Master Chai did not dare be careless. He quickly stepped half a pace forward, swiftly and smoothly formed a distinctive hand seal with both hands before his chest, and bowed slightly as he respectfully introduced himself.

"I wouldn't presume. Sorry to trouble you, but please announce me. This old man is Chai Ningshen, from Black Water Village, a disciple under White Lady. I have taken the liberty of coming here on White Lady's guidance, shamelessly seeking an audience with Grand Headmaster Guan. I hope you can help me, young brother."

A trace of surprise flashed in the man's eyes when he saw Master Chai's hand seal. Clearly, he recognized it as the greeting of a genuine Shaman Disciple, not some jianghu swindler.

His expression softened somewhat, and he raised his hands to return a slightly different, more concise seal.

Though his tone was still not especially warm, it was considerably more polite than before.

"So you're Mr. Chai. My name is Deng Youcai. This one... must be the young brother the White Immortal Family mentioned in particular?"

Master Chai looked at the man before him, who, though young, had a steady aura and a faint flow of Qi Sense.

When he heard the man give his name as Deng Youcai and considered where they were, he immediately understood.

A sharp light flashed in his eyes, and his manner grew even more respectful.

"Yes, yes, this is my disciple, Qing He Miao. You... could you be Deng Youcai of the Deng Brothers from Grand Headmaster Guan's household? Oh my, forgive my lack of respect!

"I've long heard that several outstanding young talents have emerged among Grand Headmaster Guan's grandchildren. Now that I've met you, your reputation is indeed well deserved. You have an extraordinary bearing!"

As he spoke, he hurriedly drew Qing He Miao over.

"Xiao Miao, quick, greet Brother Deng. He's Grand Headmaster Guan's own grandson, one of the finest of the younger generation in our Shaman Lineage!"

Qing He Miao obediently stepped forward and, copying his master, bowed slightly. His voice was clear, neither servile nor overbearing.

"Hello, Brother Deng."