Cat

A group of rural women giggled and laughed, and quite a few of them stared at Mo Chuan with glowing eyes.

Only Gou Shenzi, the husband of the woman who had been struck, was so furious that one Buddha seemed to have been born and a second ascended to heaven.

Seeing this, Mo Chuan hurriedly spoke to soothe them.

"Fellow believer, you jest. Since this humble Daoist entered the Dao, his heart has been fixed upon it. How would I dare become entangled in the karmic ties of the mortal world? This method of seeking children only requires setting up an altar in the courtyard, performing the rites, requesting a talisman, and placing it beneath the pillow. Then you may receive the omen of an orchid dream."

Mo Chuan knew the common folk were ignorant, so he simply lifted the curtain like a scorpion stinging a tiger cub—showed them a trick.

As he spoke, he flicked his sleeve. A wild gale suddenly rose in the open ground at the village entrance, blowing everyone this way and that until cries of pain rang out without end.

"Ow! Where did this gale come from...?"

"It seems the little Daoist used Daoist arts!"

The villagers were instantly struck dumb with shock, their hearts filled with awe and trepidation.

Those who had been making lewd jokes and teasing him earlier were even more frightened. They hid among the crowd and dared not show their faces, terrified that the Daoist would settle accounts after the autumn harvest.

"Ah, this old man failed to recognize an immortal master's true face and offended you greatly. I am truly ashamed and fearful!"

"No matter!"

The village chief, whose mouth had previously been full of coarse words, suddenly became polite and gentle-spoken at the sight. Mo Chuan could only shake his head inwardly.

With the gale as proof, the villagers finally believed that Mo Chuan truly possessed some Daoist arts.

Since the Pai Xi proceedings had been interrupted anyway, they might as well watch the Daoist's child-seeking method.

It was also the time when people rested at sunset, so it would not delay their farmwork. Everyone swarmed toward the outside of Gou Shenzi's fenced courtyard to watch the spectacle.

This so-called altar ritual was naturally something Mo Chuan had concocted to fool people.

Still, he gave instructions with a most convincing air.

An old table, incense and candles, glutinous rice, porcelain bowls, heavenly mallow water, dragon-subduing liver... and so on, a whole sprawling list.

The names alone sounded terrifyingly impressive.

In truth, heavenly mallow water was merely a woman's menstrual blood.

Dragon-subduing liver, also known as dragon-subduing dung, was simply ash from beneath a stove.

The villagers eagerly joined in. One household brought one thing, another contributed something else, and everything was soon prepared.

Before beginning the ritual, Mo Chuan asked a question.

"May I ask whether there are others in your village seeking children? Since we are seeking children anyway, this humble Daoist may as well perform the rite for everyone at once."

The villagers looked at one another.

A sturdy man stepped forward and asked, "Immortal master, can we pray for a baby boy?"

Mo Chuan sighed inwardly. "You can, you can. Sincerity brings results."

The man hurriedly said, "Then count me in!"

Someone else eagerly chimed in, "Count me in too!"

In no time, seven or eight villagers signed up, and quite a few of them already had sons.

"Hey, hey, Broken Cotton Shoe, doesn't your family already have a boy with a handle?"

"What the hell do you know? The more sons, the more blessings."

Watching the commotion, a mischievous thought quietly arose in Mo Chuan's heart.

Once the registrations were complete, Mo Chuan took a lock of hair from each person and bluntly explained that the Goddess of Child-Giving needed to use their black silk hair to find them.

Once all was ready, Mo Chuan immediately began chanting incantations and performing the rite.

His chanting rose and fell with dramatic cadence, leaving the villagers' faces full of reverence.

Yet if anyone from the Daoist sect had been present, they would surely have rebuked him as a fraudulent Daoist.

For that scripture was plainly the Scripture of Purity and Tranquility.

After completing the fabricated ritual, Mo Chuan took out yellow paper, dipped a wolf-hair brush in ink, and sent the brush racing like dragons and serpents as he drew a House-Guarding Talisman.

"The child-seeking method is complete. You need only place this talisman beneath your pillows. When engaging in the affairs of men and women, pray sincerely for a child, and you will surely succeed!"

Mo Chuan gave several House-Guarding Talismans to the families seeking children.

"Thank you, Daoist master, for granting us talismans. You have worked hard!"

Several village households thanked him again and again.

Mo Chuan waved away their gratitude, then claimed fatigue and begged for an empty room to rest in.

Night shrouded the land, and lamplight shimmered.

Mo Chuan sat on a crude, hard farmhouse bed. With a wave of his hand, a teapot landed on the table. Lampwick Monk jumped out with a broad smile on his face, clasped his hands in greeting, and said, "Master Daoist, you summoned me?"

"Goddess of Child-Giving, you enjoy this humble Daoist's incense offerings. You cannot eat and live here for nothing. Tonight, it is your turn to take the field."

Lampwick Monk wore a thoroughly bewildered expression.

Night faded away, and the rising sun climbed into the sky.

The villagers of Niujia Gully rose early and began another day's work.

Yet the atmosphere throughout the village was clearly a little peculiar today.

The men looked radiant, while the women wore bashful expressions.

When they met and greeted each other, their words inevitably carried more teasing and joking than usual.

If one pressed for details, however, it was this:

In spring, cats call, and cats call for spring; the more they cry, the more spirited they become.

Even an old man harbors a cat's desire, yet dares not cry out before others. Note 1

As the villagers joked among themselves, they naturally asked after the young Daoist who had performed the altar rite yesterday. Some curious folk even went looking for him.

Only upon arriving did they learn that the young Daoist had left at first light.

Upon hearing this, who knew how many people slapped their thighs in regret for failing to ask for a child-seeking talisman.

After all, the families who had received child-seeking talismans last night had truly experienced what cloud and rain of Mount Wu meant—joining together in bliss!

In fact, half a month later, there were even more people who regretted it.

For every family that had sought children began suffering from morning sickness. Every single one of them was pregnant!

Even Gou Shenzi's wife, who had been married for years without bearing a child, became pregnant. Gou Shenzi was so delighted that he proclaimed it throughout the village.

He even burned incense and prayed blessings for that nameless young Daoist.

Thus it became a curious tale of the wild countryside.

After Mo Chuan left the village and identified the direction, he used the Art of Ascending and Copying and hurried onward.

It was not that he feared the matter of the monk washing his hair would be exposed.

Rather, when he sensed that half-piece of Nabo in the morning, its location had unexpectedly changed.

This instantly made him anxious.

He feared the opportunity already within his grasp would slip away.

Yet though the Art of Ascending and Copying was wondrous, it was not truly a means of travel. Using it to rush along the road was ultimately rather wasteful.

After walking for half the day without getting very far, Mo Chuan could only suppress the restlessness in his heart and continue at a slower pace, thinking that if he encountered another village or town, he would certainly find a horse to ride.

As he pondered, the sound of pipes and percussion drifted into his ears.

Following the sound, he saw a wedding procession clad entirely in festive red, blowing and beating their instruments as they came down a country path that was about to join the main road.

Delighted by the sight, Mo Chuan was just about to go over and ask for a few candies to share in the auspicious air.

But after taking only a few steps and seeing the procession in its entirety, his expression abruptly changed!

The wedding procession stretched like a roaming dragon. Musicians played at the front, while hired hands carried dowry goods behind them. It wound on for several li, vast and mighty beyond measure.

It could truly be called: a thousand mu of fertile fields, ten li of red bridal trousseau.

Yet upon closer inspection, the lacquered, gold-painted chests, tables, chairs, and cabinets, gleaming with flowing colors, were strung in a long line from the front and back of a single carrying pole.

How could that be a dowry?

They were plainly—paper funerary offerings!

Looking farther back, sixteen men carried a large red coffin, with poles crossed through it in a lattice, swaying unsteadily as it came down the country road.

The sight left Mo Chuan gaping in astonishment.

What, what sort of show was this now?

The music-playing procession slowly passed Mo Chuan. A wedding matron carrying a bamboo basket approached him, grabbed a handful of wedding candies, and offered them to him.

"Daoist master, share in the joy."

Mo Chuan accepted the candies with a crawling sensation on his scalp, then quickly asked, "May I ask, fellow believer, what is going on here?"

The wedding matron had clearly answered this question countless times before. Upon hearing it, she replied smoothly.

"This is called a ghost marriage! They're joining the skeletal remains in matrimony!"

The wedding matron left.

Mo Chuan looked at the wedding candies in his hand, shuddered all over, and threw them all away.

When he set out again, the wedding procession remained ahead of him. Feeling thoroughly unlucky, Mo Chuan simply used the Art of Ascending and Copying to circle around it.

Before long, a grand and imposing city appeared before his eyes.

Jiang City had arrived.

At the city gate, a wedding reception party dressed in vivid reds and purples stood waiting expectantly.

Beside them, a group of musicians gathered in small clusters, whispering among themselves.

One of the musicians stood with his hands behind his back, holding a pair of Nabo as he leaned toward the group and murmured in a low voice.

Note 1: This doggerel verse was "Cats Cry" by the Ming-dynasty monk Zhiming. To better fit the scene, this text altered one word: "old man" should have been "old monk." Masters Daoist, please do not take offense.