Granting 1200 Years of Life

"A good deed?"

Qi WuHuo shook his head at this, repeating a line from his dream:

"A mere lift of the hand—hardly worth mentioning."

He paused, then added with a touch of youthful stubbornness, defending himself: "And I didn't help the old man for repayment either!"

The old man chuckled. "Of course I know that."

He fell silent again.

A Night Watchman came by, tapping his clapper, and glanced at Qi WuHuo as if he couldn't see the old man on his back at all. He said impatiently: "There'll be snow tonight, I reckon. In that thin coat of yours out here, you'll freeze to death! Get yourself home quick." The Night Watchman wore a dark blue padded jacket, but it looked like it hadn't been washed in ages, stained black; he had leather gloves, and a waterskin hung at his waist, filled with strong liquor.

Walking the night watch in winter was a miserable job.

A swig of liquor to wet the throat and warm the body—so long as he didn't overdo it and end up drunk by the roadside, it was fine.

Qi WuHuo thanked him and stepped aside.

Once the Night Watchman had passed, he carried the old man step by step toward home. The watchman walked a few paces ahead, then suddenly remembered something and turned to speak—only to see the young man striding forward, calm and unhurried yet astonishingly fast, moving like a dragon or tiger as he plunged into the wind and snow. In just a few steps, he vanished from sight. The watchman froze.

"Strange. That kid's never been this quick on his feet."

"Walking like he's running."

"Isn't he tired?"

He rubbed his eyes, then checked his flask. He shook it—still more than half full—and grew even more puzzled. "I haven't had that much to drink."

"How Marvelous!"

The town was quite large, with over ten thousand households. At its center stood the government offices where officials handled affairs. Radiating outward, the next tier housed the wealthy gentry and landowners, then those with some spare means. Qi WuHuo, originally a wandering refugee, had been taken in but lived in a small wooden shack at the town's edge.

It had once been a forest ranger's hut over twenty years ago, used to fend off wild beasts. Later, the authorities sent troops into the mountains several times, pushing the beasts' territory back, and the ranger post was abolished. The hut had been abandoned for over a decade, already dilapidated.

Back then, many refugees passed through, but none had wanted it.

They'd rather push on to the prefectural capital. Only Qi WuHuo, then just nine years old, had stayed.

Carrying the old man, he reached the place in no time. With that strange breath of energy entering his body, he felt light and nimble, as if he'd made the trip faster than when he came down the mountain alone.

He hadn't noticed the energy entering him, simply assuming the wind and snow had spurred him on. He pushed open the door, had the old man sit on a stool, then lit a fire with dry grass. Soon the whole room warmed up. He took out a small pouch made of thin gauze, filled with various glowing insects that shone like lanterns in the night, and placed it in the center, illuminating the entire space.

The old man accepted a bowl of hot water from Qi WuHuo, looked at the insect lamp, and smiled in surprise: "Oh... you're quite clever, little friend."

Qi WuHuo said, "We've no wealth at home, so I had to make do."

The old man stroked his beard and surveyed the small wooden hut.

What had once been broken was all neatly repaired. There weren't many furnishings, but everything was arranged tidily. On the windowsill sat a few pots of greenery that could survive winter—clean and refreshing.

On one side hung several strips of cured meat, clearly from mountain beasts.

Skinned and dried into jerky.

In this era, many lush lands teeming with harmless beasts had been claimed by the royal family as their hunting grounds. In spring and autumn, nobles rode out to hunt, while the rest of the year the animals were left to breed.

Common folk dared not enter with bows to hunt; if caught, they'd be flogged dozens of times and bedridden for three months at best, or seized by patrolling soldiers and thrown into prison at worst.

Rabbits and such could only be caught occasionally.

But here, there were quite a few—proof of the boy's cleverness. With the year's end approaching, this was likely his winter stockpile. Though poor, he still looked forward to life.

The old man nodded slightly.

He watched as Qi WuHuo ground medicinal herbs, then took some coarse grain and put it in a pot, adding water to cover it by three fingers' depth to cook. When it was nearly done, he fetched a piece of cured rabbit meat. He meant to cut off a small portion, but after a moment's thought, he sliced a bit more.

On the chopping board, he diced it into small pieces, then added it along with some frost-sweetened winter cabbage into the pot to boil together. Soon, a fragrant aroma filled the air, warmth rising.

By the time he had changed the old man's bandages, the meat porridge was ready. He set the table upright, ladled out two bowls of porridge, and added a dish of vinegar-pickled cabbage.

The young man said: "Our home is poor, with nothing fit to offer."

"I hope you won't think ill of it, sir."

The old man looked at this clear-eyed, serious-faced boy and could faintly sense that the child was genuinely happy to have someone to share a meal with instead of eating alone.

But even in his joy, his face remained calm and composed.

The old man took a sip of the porridge—it was quite savory—and picked up a bite of the pickled cabbage, crisp and refreshing. He smiled: "Delicious. I don't even know what to call you, little friend. What's your honorable name?"

Qi WuHuo set down his bowl and chopsticks and said: "It's hardly an honorable name. My surname is Qi."

"My given name is WuHuo, meaning 'without confusion'—hoping for a life free of doubt."

The old man sighed: "Qi WuHuo..."

"Saying 'WuHuo' is simple enough, but it's a rare thing to live up to."

"This old man's surname is Li—quite the coincidence, sharing it with that Dao Ancestor. I've lived so long, I've long since forgotten my given name."

As if recalling something, his voice paused. He looked at the youth before him. At first, he'd only noticed the boy's unusually strong soul, suspecting some evil spirit or heretic had possessed a body. But after being carried on his back for a while, he sensed the soul's perfect harmony with the body—no chance of possession. He paused again, mulled it over, then smiled:

"Still, you carried me all this way, treated my wounds, and fed me. This old man must repay you well. Come, come, little brother—what do you want? Speak it all out, and I'll see it done."

Qi WuHuo shook his head. "I didn't save you, Old Man Li, for any reward."

The old man stroked his beard and raised a hand with a smile:

"Easy, easy—hear me out before you refuse."

He glanced at Qi WuHuo's living conditions, pointed at the rundown gatehouse, and chuckled: "How about this? I'll give you a thousand taels of gold and silver. That'll buy you ten carriages, a hundred servants, a three-courtyard mansion, a life of wealth, and dozens of children. What do you say?"

Qi WuHuo shook his head.

The old man asked why with a smile.

Qi WuHuo thought for a moment, then replied:

"'If ten thousand bushels are accepted without regard for righteousness, what good are ten thousand bushels to me?'"

"I'd be undeserving."

Those were words he'd seen in a dream.

The old man froze, thought it over, and said: "I see. Then how about this? I see you live alone in hardship. This old man has some renown and knows the Five Clans and Seven Sects. The Cui Family's youngest daughter is stunningly beautiful, like a celestial fallen to earth. You saved my life—I'm willing to seek her hand for you. How does that sound?"

"With such a family backing you, a lovely wife by your side, mutual affection, and a graceful companion to add fragrance to your study—wouldn't that be delightful?"

Qi WuHuo frowned and shook his head. "Elder, you say you want to repay me, but you'd have me change the fate of a woman I've never met. That would drag me into unrighteousness."

"Besides, I don't know her. If I agreed, wouldn't that just be lusting after her looks? Where's the mutual affection in that?"

The old man started to speak again, but Qi WuHuo pointed at the porridge:

"Old sir, the porridge is getting cold."

He paused, then added what he thought was the greatest threat:

"If you don't eat it, I will!"

The old man didn't take the repeated refusals as an offense. Instead, his smile deepened. He nodded with a laugh, took a sip of porridge, and finally shook his head:

"You won't take this, won't take that. Very well, then."

He set down the porridge. His black eyes were warm and smooth as jade. The corner of his mouth curled slightly, and he said lightly:

"You carried me twelve hundred steps—let that be a bond of good karma."

"The gate is the Way; the scriptures are the path."

"I shall open a gate for you, granting you 1200 years of life."

"What say you?"