"Good karma?"
Qi WuHuo shook his head at that and quoted a line from his dream:
"It was the least I could do. No need to mention it."
After a pause, his youthful stubbornness got the better of him, and he defended himself:
"I didn't help you for the sake of being repaid, old man!"
The old man laughed. "I know."
Then he said nothing more.
A night watchman came by, clacking his wooden clappers. He glanced at Qi WuHuo, seemingly unable to see the old man on his back, and said impatiently:
"It looks like snow tonight. You're wearing such thin clothes out here—you'll freeze to death! Hurry home." The night watchman wore a dark blue padded coat, though it seemed not to have been washed in ages and had turned black. He had gloves made of animal hide, and a waterskin hung at his waist, though it held strong liquor.
Walking the streets on a winter night as a night watchman was hard work.
A swig of strong liquor could soothe the throat, keep one alert, and warm the body. As long as one didn't overdo it or pass out by the roadside, there was no harm in it.
Qi WuHuo thanked him and stepped aside.
Only after the night watchman had passed did he continue toward home, carrying the old man on his back. The watchman had gone a few steps when he suddenly remembered something and was about to turn around and say it. But he saw the boy striding forward, calm and composed, yet moving at an astonishing pace, like a dragon in motion, like a tiger on the prowl. He plunged into the wind and snow and vanished after only a few steps. The watchman couldn't help but stare.
"Strange. How come this kid's legs are so quick today?"
"He walks as fast as other people run."
"Doesn't he get tired?"
He rubbed his eyes and looked at his wine flask. It was still more than half full, so his suspicion only deepened. "I haven't even drunk that much."
"Strange indeed."
The town was quite large, with more than ten thousand households. At its center was the government office, where officials handled affairs. Around it lived the town's wealthy families and landed gentry, and beyond them were those with some money to spare. Qi WuHuo, a refugee who had come from elsewhere, had been taken in, but his little wooden hut stood at the town's edge.
It had once been the home of a forest ranger, who had lived there more than twenty years ago to ward off wild beasts. Later, the authorities sent troops up the mountain several times, pushing the beasts' range farther back. The position of forest ranger was abolished, and the house was abandoned. It had been left to ruin for more than a decade.
Though many refugees had come here back then, none had thought the place worth taking.
They would rather walk farther, all the way to the prefectural seat. Only Qi WuHuo, who had been nine at the time, had stayed behind.
With the old man on his back, he reached home in no time. After that strange breath had entered his body, his steps had grown light and nimble. He seemed to have arrived even faster than when he usually came home from the mountain.
He hadn't sensed the breath entering him earlier. He thought the wind and snow had simply spurred him on, making him walk faster. He pushed open the door and helped the old man sit on a stool, then lit a fire with dry grass. Before long, the whole room had warmed up. He took out a small pouch made of thin gauze, filled with unusual insects that glowed at night like lamps, and set it in the middle of the room. Light filled the whole hut.
The old man accepted the bowl of hot water Qi WuHuo handed him, then looked at the insect lamp and smiled in surprise.
"Heh... You're a resourceful little fellow."
"There's no money to spare at home, so I have to find other ways," Qi WuHuo said.
The old man stroked his beard and looked around the small wooden hut.
The places that had once been in disrepair had all been carefully mended. There were few things in the room, but they had been arranged neatly. A few pots of greenery that could survive the winter sat by one side of the window. The whole place was clean and tidy.
Several strips of cured meat hung on one side, apparently from wild beasts in the mountains.
Their hides had been stripped away, and the meat had been dried.
In this age, many places rich in flourishing plants and harmless wild beasts had been claimed by the royal family and nobility as hunting grounds. In spring and autumn, the powerful rode out to hunt; the rest of the time, the animals were left to breed and multiply.
Ordinary people were forbidden to enter with bows to hunt. If caught, they might be whipped dozens of times and confined to bed for three months. Worse, a patrol of armored soldiers might catch them on the spot and throw them in prison.
Rabbits and other such beasts were only occasionally caught.
But there were quite a few here, which showed just how nimble the boy was. The year's end was approaching, so he had likely prepared them for the winter. Though poor, he clearly still looked forward to life.
The old man gave a slight nod.
He saw that Qi WuHuo was grinding medicinal herbs. The boy had also taken some coarse grain and put it in a clay pot, covering it with water to a depth of three fingers. When it was nearly cooked, he took a piece of cured rabbit meat. He had meant to cut off only a little, but after a moment's thought, he sliced off a somewhat larger piece.
He cut it into small chunks on the table and added them to the pot along with some cabbage, which grew sweeter after winter frost. Before long, a fragrant aroma filled the room, and warmth rose with it.
By the time he had changed the old man's bandages, the pot of meat porridge was ready. He lowered a table that had been propped upright against the wall, set out two bowls of porridge, and placed a dish of pickled cabbage on the table.
The boy said:
"My home is poor, so there's nothing much I can offer you."
"I hope you won't mind, old sir."
The old man looked at the boy before him, whose features were delicate and fair but whose manner was earnest. He could vaguely sense that the child was quite happy to be home, able to share a meal with someone instead of sitting alone.
Yet despite his happiness, the boy's face remained calm and composed.
The old man took a sip of porridge and found it delicious. He picked up a bite of pickled cabbage, crisp and refreshing, and smiled. "It's good! I don't know what to call you yet, little fellow. May I ask your name?"
Qi WuHuo put down his bowl and chopsticks.
"I can't claim to have any grand title. My surname is Qi."
"My name is WuHuo. It means I hope to live without confusion."
The old man sighed. "Qi WuHuo..."
"'Without confusion'—easy to say, but hard to attain."
"My surname is Li. It's a curious thing, but I share a surname with that Dao Ancestor. I've lived too long; I haven't used my name in ages."
He seemed to remember something, and his voice paused. Looking at the boy before him, he recalled that at first he had only noticed the boy's powerful soul and sensed something amiss. He had thought him some evil spirit from beyond the Dao, possessing another's body. But after being carried by him all the way here, he could feel how perfectly the boy's soul fit his body. There was no possibility of possession. He paused, thought for a moment, then smiled and said:
"Still, you carried me all this way, treated my wounds, and fed me. I ought to repay you properly. Come, little brother, tell me what you want. You can ask for anything, and I'll make it happen."
"I saved you, Old Man Li, not for any of that," Qi WuHuo said.
The old man stroked his beard and raised a hand with a smile.
"Hold on, hold on. Hear me out first."
He looked at Qi WuHuo's living conditions, pointed toward the dilapidated doorway, and smiled. "How about this? I'll give you a thousand taels of gold and silver, ten carriages and horses, a hundred servants, and a grand house with three courtyards. You'll live in wealth all your life and have dozens of children. How does that sound?"
Qi WuHuo shook his head.
The old man smiled. "Why not?"
Qi WuHuo thought for a moment, then answered:
"'Even if offered ten thousand bushels, if I accepted them without regard for propriety and righteousness, what would they add to me?'"
"I wouldn't feel worthy of accepting them."
These were words he had seen in his dream.
The old man fell silent. He thought for a moment, then said, "I see. Then how about this? You live alone, and your life seems lonely. I have a little renown and know the Five Clans and Seven Sects. The Cui Family has a beautiful young daughter, like an immortal banished from heaven. You saved my life, so I'm willing to ask for her hand on your behalf. How does that sound?"
"With a family like hers backing you, a lovely wife at your side, and a beautiful woman to keep you company, the two of you in love, her red sleeve adding fragrance as you read—wouldn't that be a happy life?"
Qi WuHuo frowned and shook his head. "You say this is to repay me, but because of me, the fate of a woman I've never even met would be changed. That would make me unrighteous."
"Besides, I don't know her. If I agreed, wouldn't I just be coveting her looks? How could you call that mutual love?"
The old man was about to speak again when Qi WuHuo pointed at the porridge.
"Old sir, your porridge is going cold."
After a pause, he added what he felt was the greatest threat he could make:
"If you don't eat it, I will!"
The old man didn't feel that being refused several times was an insult. Instead, his smile only grew broader. He nodded, took a sip of porridge, then finally shook his head.
"You won't take this, and you won't take that. Very well, then."
He set down his porridge. His black eyes were gentle as jade, and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he said, as lightly as if it were nothing:
"You carried me twelve hundred steps. We should form a bond of good karma."
"The gate is the Dao; the scriptures are the path."
"I shall open a gate and grant you twelve hundred years of life in the mortal world."
"How does that sound?"
Before you continue