A Bowl of Water

Apricot Blossom Alley had a well called Iron Lock Well. A chain as thick as a strong young man's arm had hung down from its mouth year after year. No one knew when the well and iron chain had first appeared, or who had done such a pointless, strange thing. Even the oldest elders in town could not make heads or tails of it.

Legend had it that someone in town had once tried to find out exactly how long the chain was. Ignoring the elders' warnings, he paid no heed to the old rule passed down by word of mouth: "For every foot of iron chain pulled out of the well, one year of your life will be shaved away." After hauling with all his might for an Incense Stick, he had pulled out a great heap of chain, yet still saw no sign of its end. Exhausted, he let the chain he had dragged out coil beside the well's windlass and said he would return the next day. He simply refused to believe in such superstitions. Yet after returning home, he bled from all seven orifices and died violently in bed that very day, his eyes left wide open in death. No matter how hard his family tried, they could not close them. In the end, an elder whose family had lived beside the well for generations told them to carry the corpse to the well. With their eyes wide open, they watched the elder return the chain to the well. Only after the entire chain had sunk straight back into the deep water did the corpse finally close its eyes.

One old and one young slowly approached Iron Lock Well. The little kid still had two trails of snot hanging from his nose, yet when he told this story, his words were crisp and orderly. He sounded nothing like a country child who had attended Elementary Education for only half a year. The child raised his head, his large eyes like two black grapes. He sniffed lightly, and the two little snot snakes retreated. Looking at the storyteller holding a huge white bowl in one hand, he pursed his lips and said, "I'm done now. Shouldn't you show me what's inside your bowl?"

The elder chuckled. "Don't rush, don't rush. Once we sit down by the well, I'll let you look your fill."

The child gave him a "kindly" reminder. "No going back on your word, or you'll die a horrible death. The moment you reach Iron Lock Well, you'll tumble headfirst into it. I won't fish out your corpse then. Or lightning might suddenly strike and turn you into a lump of charcoal. Then I'll take a stone and chip you apart bit by bit..."

Listening to the child pour out a whole string of vicious, ominous curses like beans spilling from a bamboo tube, without a single repetition, the elder's head began to ache. He hurriedly said, "I'll definitely show you. By the way, who taught you to say such things?"

The child answered without the slightest hesitation, "My mother, of course!"

The elder sighed with feeling. "No wonder this place produces such outstanding people, blessed by both land and spirit."

The child suddenly stopped, frowning. "Are you insulting me? I know some people like to say nice things backwards. Like Song Jixin!"

The elder hurriedly denied it, then changed the subject. "Do strange things often happen in town?"

The child nodded.

The elder asked, "Tell me about them."

The child pointed at the elder and said solemnly, "Like you carrying around a huge white bowl but refusing to let anyone put copper coins in it. Before you even finished your story, my mother said you weren't a bad storyteller. All mist and clouds—one look and she could tell you were used to swindling people. So she told me to bring you a few coins, but you absolutely refused them. What exactly is in that bowl?"

The elder could neither laugh nor cry.

It turned out that after the storyteller had finished his tale beneath the Old Scholar Tree, he had asked this child to lead him to Apricot Blossom Alley to see the well. At first, the child had been unwilling, but the elder said his huge white bowl had great Particulars to it and held some incredible rare treasure. The child had been lively and restless since birth; his parents said he had forgotten to grow a backside when he was reincarnated. From an early age, he had liked following Liu Xianyang and that group of profligate sons around town. Yet to catch an eel or loach, this little brat could stand motionless beneath the blazing sun for Half an Hour, with astonishing patience.

So when the elder mentioned what the white bowl contained, the child immediately bit the bait and took the hook.

Even when the elder initially made the odd request of trying to lift him, to see how heavy he was and whether he weighed forty jin, the child nodded without hesitation. Being lifted a few times would not cost him a chunk of flesh anyway.

But then something happened that made the child roll his eyes again and again. Holding the bowl in his left palm, the elder exerted all his strength and tried to lift him five or six times with his right hand, but failed every time. At last, the child glanced sideways at the elder's thin arms and thin legs, shook his head, and thought, Both of you are skinny poles, but that poor wretch Chen Ping'an is far stronger than this old man. Still, because he had not yet seen the sight inside the white bowl, the child—who seemed to have been born wise beyond his years—held back the words that would have made the elder lose face. In Mud Bottle Alley and Apricot Blossom Alley, when it came to quarrelling and hurling insults, especially speaking in barbed, sarcastic tones, this child ranked third. Second was the scholar Song Jixin, and first was the child's mother.

The elder arrived beside the well but did not sit on its rim.

The Ancient Well was built of stacked blue bricks.

For no visible reason, the elder's breathing grew heavy.

The child walked to the well, turned his back to it, then jumped backward. His backside landed squarely on the well's rim.

The sight made cold sweat stream down the elder's back. If that brat slipped for even an instant, he would fall straight in. Given the long history of this Ancient Well, even recovering the body would be difficult.

The elder took several slow steps forward, narrowed his eyes, and bent down to inspect the iron chain. One end was tied in a dead knot beneath the well's windlass.

"A blessed land of feng shui, foremost in an entire continent."

The elder looked around, his heart filled with countless emotions. And who knows whose hands this Heavy Item will finally fall into?

The elder extended his free left hand and stared at his palm.

The lines in his palm were mottled and intricate.

Yet a brand-new line had appeared, slowly extending like a crack spreading across porcelain.

When a Divine Being looked upon his palm, he saw mountains and rivers.

But this elder was presently looking only at himself.

The elder frowned and exclaimed, "In barely half a day, things have already become this bleak. Then those few must be...?"

The child was already standing on the well's rim, one hand on his hip and the other pointing at the elder as he shouted, "Are you going to let me see the white bowl or not?!"

The elder said helplessly, "Get down, quickly get down. I'll show you the huge white bowl right away."

The child was doubtful, but in the end he still jumped down from the rim.

After hesitating for a moment, the elder's expression turned solemn. "Little kid, you and I are fated. There is no harm in showing you the mystery of this bowl. But once you have seen it, you must not mention it to outsiders—not even your mother. If you can do that, I will let you see it. If you cannot, then even if you point at my spine and curse me, I will not let you glimpse so much as half of it."

The child blinked. "Begin, then."

The elder walked gravely to the well's edge. Lowering his head, he discovered that the brat had changed positions again and was now sitting astride the rim, legs spread apart. The elder began to regret provoking this lawless little kid.

The elder gathered his stray thoughts, faced the well, and gripped the base of the huge white bowl with five fingers. His palm began to tilt slightly, by an angle so small it was nearly imperceptible.

The child felt that he had waited quite a while, yet the white bowl above his head had not moved in the slightest, and the old man had maintained the same pose throughout.

Just before the child's two snot snakes were about to dangle into his mouth and his patience ran dry—

A stream of water as thick as a finger poured from the white bowl and fell soundlessly into the depths of the well.

The child bared his teeth, about to unleash a torrent of curses.

Then he suddenly shut his mouth. Surprise appeared on his face, and moments later, his expression had changed from shock to confusion. Then the child began to panic. Snapping back to his senses, he jumped down from the well and fled toward home.

The amount the elder had poured into the well from that white bowl had long since exceeded an entire water vat.

Yet water continued pouring out of the white bowl.

The child felt certain that he had seen a ghost in broad daylight.

Liu Xianyang casually broke off a newly budding branch from the roadside and began to Practice Sword. His entire body spun madly like a rolling cartwheel. He did not care in the least for the new boots on his feet, and clouds of dust rose from the path.

The tall young man left town and headed south from the north. Once he crossed the Covered Bridge Lord Song had paid to build, then walked another three or four li, he would reach the blacksmith shop run by the Ruan Family father and daughter. Liu Xianyang had always been proud and ambitious, but Master Ruan needed only one sentence to make him admire him with all his heart: "We came here for one purpose only—to kindle the furnace and forge swords."

Forging swords was wonderful. The thought that he would one day possess a real sword made Liu Xianyang so excited that he threw away the branch and began running and shouting, howling like ghosts and wolves.

Thinking of the few Fist Stances Master Ruan had secretly taught him, Liu Xianyang began practicing them. He even looked somewhat convincing, his movements fierce enough to stir the wind.

The young man drew closer and closer to the Covered Bridge.

Four people sat on the steps at the bridge's northern end. There was a curvaceous, plump beautiful woman holding a boy dressed in bright red robes. He held his chin high, like a general fresh from a great victory. At the other end of the steps sat a tall old man with a head full of Frost Snow, beside whom was a little girl puffed up with anger. The elder was quietly consoling her. She was as delicately sculpted as the most exquisite porcelain doll in the world. Under the sunlight, her tender skin was so crystalline and translucent that the blue veins and vessels beneath it could be seen clearly.

The two children had just finished arguing. The little girl looked on the verge of tears, while the little boy became even more smug.

The elder had a Sturdy Build, like a small mountain. The woman beside him cast an apologetic glance his way, but the imposing elder turned a blind eye.

At the foot of the steps stood a Young Man surnamed Lu, the legitimate eldest grandson of the Lu Family head—Lu Zhengchun. Perhaps it was true that one land nourished one people. Those born and raised in this town always seemed to possess better looks than men and women elsewhere. Yet Lu Zhengchun had long been hollowed out by wine and women. In the eyes of the four seated on the steps, he was Unbearable to Look At. The Lu Family's dragon kilns, whether in number or scale, eclipsed all others in town. Their clan also had the most descendants who had left town and spread their branches elsewhere. Yet Lu Zhengchun, once so overbearing in town, now looked restrained and pale, his entire body taut as though the slightest mistake would bring extermination upon his whole family.

The boy spoke in words the townsfolk could not understand. "Mother, that little bug surnamed Liu—his ancestors truly were that..."

Just as he was about to say the name, the woman immediately covered his mouth. "How many times did your father warn you before we left? Here, do not casually call anyone by name."

The boy pulled away her hand, his eyes burning as he lowered his voice and asked, "Does his family truly pass down that Treasure Armor and Sword Scripture generation after generation?"

The woman lovingly stroked her young son's head and said softly, "The Lu Family guarantees it with half their genealogy. Those two things are still hidden in that young man's home."

The boy suddenly whined, "Mother, Mother, can't we trade treasures with Xiao Bai's family? The Treasure Armor we planned for is far too ugly. Think about it, Mother—if we exchanged it for that Sword Scripture, we could take heads with flying swords in dreams, truly without ghosts or gods knowing. Wouldn't that be far more impressive than a turtle shell?"

Before the woman could explain the underlying reasons, the girl beside them snapped angrily, "And you think you're worthy of coveting our Mountain Suppressing Treasure, lost for so long? We came here this time to Right and Properly Return to Owner. Unlike certain shameless people, who have come as bandits, thieves, or even beggars!"

The boy turned and made a face, then sneered, "Stinky girl, you said it yourself—it's a mountain-suppressing treasure. Just a mountain sect's seniority, is that so amazing?"

The boy abruptly wiped the playful expression from his face. After standing up from the woman's embrace, he looked down at the little girl with pity, like a tutor scolding an immature Young Child. "Great Dao Longevity means defying heaven, and it all lies in the word 'fight.' You do not even understand that. How will you inherit the family business in the future? How will you uphold the ancestral teachings? You descendants of Zhengyang Mountain must raise Zhengyang Mountain by at least one hundred zhang every thirty years. Stinky girl, do you think it was easy for your grandfather and father?"

The little girl lost some of her momentum. Her expression wilted, and she drooped her head, not daring to look directly at the boy.

The burly old man with Frost Snow hair said in a deep voice, "Madam, children may speak without restraint, but if this causes our Young Master's Dao heart to be clouded with dust, weigh the Consequences yourselves."

The woman gave a seductive smile and pulled her dark-faced young son back into her arms. Her voice was soft, but a needle lay hidden in cotton. "Children are merely squabbling. Why must Elder Yuan make such a mountain of it? Do not damage the thousand-year friendship between our two families."

Unexpectedly, the elder had an extraordinarily fiery temper and shot back directly, "My Zhengyang Mountain was founded twenty-six hundred years ago. We repay kindness with kindness, never forgetting it even after a thousand years. We repay grievances with grievances, and never leave enmity overnight!"

The woman smiled but did not contend with him in anger.

Everyone bore a heavy responsibility on this trip to town. Especially her. She had thrown her own life and fortune, her son's future, and her maternal family's foundation all onto the table in a single desperate gamble.

Though dressed simply, this woman carried herself with stately grace. The townsfolk had never seen the wider world, however, and did not understand the mysteries within.

From beginning to end, Lu Zhengchun had kept his back to the Covered Bridge steps.

The first time he had met these distinguished guests at the Lu Family manor, his younger brother had merely been hot-blooded and lacking in restraint. Forgetting their grandfather's warning for a moment, he had stolen a glance at the beautiful woman's breasts. Their grandfather had trembled with rage and ordered him dragged away and beaten to death with staves in the courtyard. It seemed cotton had been stuffed into his mouth during the execution, so Lu Zhengchun, who remained with his grandfather to discuss matters in the main hall, could neither hear his younger brother's miserable screams nor see the Flesh and blood blurred scene. When the discussion ended and they went out together to find the young man surnamed Liu, Lu Zhengchun stepped over the main hall's threshold and found that the courtyard's bloodstains had already been washed clean. The four guests from afar—even the pair of children like Golden Boy Jade Girl—showed no reaction whatsoever, as if this were simply Right and Proper.

At that moment, Lu Zhengchun had felt lost.

A person had died. How could it seem less important than the death of a dog?

And that person had been surnamed Lu. The night before, while drinking with his older brother to bolster their courage, he had been brimming with excitement. He had declared that they would surely rise to glory and bring honor to their family, that the two brothers would no longer be Frogs at the Bottom of a Well, and would join hands to carve out a world beyond this town.

Even after leaving the Lu Family manor, Lu Zhengchun's mind remained blank.

From then on, fear began to take root in Lu Zhengchun's heart. When those unfamiliar noble persons questioned him, his voice trembled. When he led the way, his steps drifted. He knew he looked ridiculous and would disappoint his grandfather and disgrace the family, but the Young Man simply could not control his fear. It was as though coldness seeped from every bone in his body.

At the end of last year, his grandfather had taken the two brothers into a Secret Room and told them that the Lu Family would soon serve certain noble persons. It was a heaven-sent blessing, and they had to handle matters carefully. If they succeeded, the Lu Family would turn their reward into a stepping stone to cultivate the two brothers. So long as those noble persons nodded, a broad road to glory would appear beneath their feet, and they would soar to the clouds, eventually obtaining unimaginable wealth and honor. Only then did he understand why he and his younger brother had needed to learn so many strange dialects since childhood.

Lu Zhengchun watched Liu Xianyang draw ever closer to the Covered Bridge. Suddenly, he felt incomparable hatred for this person—for this poor wretch whom he had once led people to corner in an alley, who had lain on the ground like a dead dog. If not for some Little Bastard running to the alley entrance and shouting that someone had died, he and his friends would already have followed their agreement, pulled down their pants, and bestowed a rain of nectar upon the head of that arrogant young man Lying on the Ground. Even now, Lu Zhengchun could not understand why these lofty noble persons regarded Liu Xianyang so highly. As for their Treasure Armor, Sword Scripture, Zhengyang Mountain, Great Dao Longevity, fighting for opportunities and seizing fortune—Lu Zhengchun seemed to understand every word, yet in truth understood none of it.

But Lu Zhengchun was certain of one thing: he desperately hoped Liu Xianyang would die here.

As for the true reason, Lu Zhengchun did not dare admit it, nor did he wish to examine it closely.

Deep in his heart, Lu Zhengchun absolutely did not want Liu Xianyang, a person as lowly as a dog, to see that he, the Lu Family's eldest young master raised in silks and fine food, had fallen into the same miserable state as the one surnamed Liu.

No humiliation could be greater.

The beautiful woman watched the road and murmured, "He's here."

The tall young man practiced his fist as he came. His punches became increasingly swift and violent, faster and faster, until his body was swept along by the force of his own punches and began to stagger.

In an expert's eyes, the nascent intent within his fist technique already revealed a trace of the grand bearing of perfectly blending hardness and softness.

There was an introductory saying in the martial path of fist techniques: Without grasping the true intent of the fist, one remains an outsider for a hundred years. Once one comprehends the true intent of the fist, ten years are enough to strike down ghosts and gods.

The beautiful woman let out a breath of relief. As expected, this young man surnamed Liu was the person they sought. His talent was indeed remarkable. Even among their Immortal Mansions, his innate bones and aptitude could not be underestimated.

Of course, in the vast world known to the beautiful woman and the burly white-haired old man, people like him were also the most numerous.

The beautiful woman rose and instructed Lu Zhengchun below the steps, "Go tell that young man to name what he wants in exchange for taking out those two family heirlooms—the armor and the book."

As Lu Zhengchun turned around, he was already bowing with his head lowered. In a dialect that the townsfolk would regard as a Heavenly Book, he replied, "Yes, Madam."

The woman said calmly, "Remember, when you speak to the young man, be pleasant and mindful of your limits."

The boy extended a finger, looking down from above as he said fiercely, "If you Cause Trouble and ruin this matter, I'll skin you and pull out your tendons, then refine your soul into a lamp wick. Until the lamp goes out, you'll suffer worse than death every moment!"

Lu Zhengchun shuddered, bent even lower, and said in terror, "This lowly one will never Cause Trouble!"

At last, the little girl felt she had recovered some ground. She sneered, "You certainly put on quite a show before these common folk. I wonder who it was, on the way here, who was called a bastard to his face by a Fellow Daoist and did not dare strike back."

The burly old man had disliked that snobbish mother and son from the start, so he added, "Young lady is mistaken. It was not that he did not dare strike back. Plainly, he did not dare answer back."

The boy in bright red robes gnashed his teeth and glared fixedly at the girl, his face dark and sinister. Yet he did not utter any threats. Instead, he finally broke into a radiant smile.

The woman kept her eyes on the road ahead, her expression as light as clouds and as calm as the wind. Whether resentment had taken root in her heart, only heaven knew.

The little girl snorted and ran down the steps. She squatted beside the creek, lowering her head to look at the fish swimming in the water.

From time to time, schools of carp swam past her gaze, their numbers varying, both red and green among them.

When older townsfolk chatted beneath the Old Scholar Tree, they often said that during thunderstorms, whenever they passed the Covered Bridge, they had seen a glittering golden carp swim out from beneath it.

Some elders said the carp with golden scales was only the length of a palm. Others said the strange carp was enormous, at least half a person tall, practically on the verge of becoming a spirit.

Opinions differed wildly, and the elders argued back and forth until none of the children listening to the stories were willing to take them seriously.

At this moment, the little girl stared unblinkingly at the crystal-clear creek, her cheeks propped in both hands.

The white-haired old man squatted beside her and smiled softly. "Young lady, if the Lu Family was not lying, then this great opportunity has already fallen into someone else's pocket."

The little girl turned around and grinned. "Grandpa Yuan, perhaps there are two!"

This revealed the comical sight of her missing front tooth.

The little girl quickly realized it and hurriedly covered her mouth.

Suppressing his laughter, the elder explained, "Flood Dragon Kind that have not yet traveled the river are most particular about dividing territory. They do Not allowed their own kind to approach. So..."

The little girl gave an "oh." Turning back around, she again propped her cheeks in both hands and stared blankly ahead, murmuring, "What if there are?"

The elder, who had remained Kind-Eyed toward the little girl all along, revealed the stern expression of an imposing elder for the first time. He gently pressed a hand onto the girl's head and said in a deep voice, "Young lady, remember this well: these two words, 'what if,' are truly the greatest mortal enemy of people like us. Never entertain luck! Though you are of Golden Branches and Jade Leaves..."

The little girl pulled one hand away and waved it hard, complaining sweetly, "I know, I know, Grandpa Yuan! My ears are going to grow calluses!"

The elder said, "Young lady, I will go watch what is happening over there. Though they are allies of Zhengyang Mountain on the surface, the character and conduct of that entire family... Heh, best not mention it, lest it soil the young lady's ears."

She merely waved him away.

He could only leave helplessly.

This burly old man, who seemed to hold the status of a household servant, walked with both hands hanging by his knees and his back slightly hunched, as though carrying a heavy burden.

The girl on the bank suddenly rubbed her eyes hard.

She discovered that the creek's water level was clearly beginning to rise, slowly and visibly!

If this had been outside the town—at Zhengyang Mountain, for instance, or anywhere in her homeland—even if the entire creek had dried up in an instant, she would not have been the least bit surprised.

The little girl asked in confusion, "Wasn't it said that this place Naturally seals away all mystical arts, divine powers, and Dao techniques? And the deeper one's cultivation, the harsher the backlash? Grandpa Yuan said that even that person from the legends, after staying here for so long, was now in a predicament as difficult as a Mud Bodhisattva Crossing the River, and could scarcely truly stop anyone from fighting to seize..."

In the end, she shook her head, too lazy to puzzle over the mystery any longer.

The little girl turned to look at Grandpa Yuan's tall back.

She thought happily that once this place was completely unsealed, she would ask Grandpa Yuan to move away the mountain called Piyun Mountain.

After bringing it home, she would use it as her little Flower Garden.