I Have Recorded His Name

Qi WuHuo's departure was no great matter.

Li Puyü had simply felt a little lost when he came to offer New Year's greetings and found the boy gone. Butcher Zhang's red envelope, with five big coins inside, had gone undelivered. Life went on as usual: the sun rose and set, people came and went, and the days bustled along. Besides, what was the departure of an outsider of ordinary birth, who didn't even understand how to conduct himself?

The real big news was the Mountain God—

The shrine was finished.

After much fanfare, the crowd dispersed. At first, people had come so often that they seemed ready to make worshiping on the mountain the first thing they did each morning. But little by little, fewer came. When those who had built the shrine saw that they hadn't gotten rich and their sons hadn't suddenly become scholarly prodigies, they came less and less. In the end, they hardly came at all.

Only woodcutters still went up the mountain, sometimes to take shelter from the rain.

Wild beasts came and went. Now and then, a snake slithered along the beams. Dust gathered in the light, and nature took its course.

Inside the shrine, the air was rich with incense, so thick it was almost intoxicating. Suddenly, a voice rang out:

"Hey, hey! How is this supposed to be the Mountain God? Why did they sculpt him like this?"

It was the Deer Spirit. It raised its head and looked at the statue, its face full of displeasure.

Its tail swished back and forth.

This statue looked nothing like the tiger from before, nor like the young man who had come later!

It was the familiar sort of dignified, potbellied immortal, grinning and grinning for no apparent reason as he gazed down at the town.

On its back, the little Huang Jing man raised his hands and babbled in protest.

At last, it planted a foot on the Deer Spirit's back and leaped down.

It burrowed straight into the Mountain God statue, changing its appearance on the spot.

Another month or so passed. Mr. Su's family returned from town, too. Miss Su Yue'er seemed quite interested in tales of immortals. When she heard about the Mountain God, she invited that young relative of the Cui Family to climb the mountain with her, chatting as they went. "Before I came here, I'd never heard of the Mountain God showing his power on He Lian Mountain."

"This time, I'll have to see for myself."

"Indeed."

"Hee-hee, those two couplets we saw at the Daoist sect's gate earlier certainly gave Puyü and the others a fright!"

"An Immortal Destiny like that isn't something you come across every day."

Snow still fell in the mountains. The Red-clad Girl wore boots suited to winter, crunching over the snow as she approached the Mountain God shrine. Perhaps because the Mountain God had shown no sign of divine power, and because getting here was so inconvenient, the place had lost the bustle it once had. Smiling, she picked up some incense and went inside. She raised her eyes—and suddenly stopped smiling.

"Yue'er, what's wrong?"

The young man from the Cui Family looked at her in confusion. The Red-clad Girl's almond-shaped eyes were wide, her gaze vacant. He, too, paused when he saw the shrine's stone statue: it depicted a young man, his expression gentle, his features clear and bright. Though the Mountain God shrine was plain, the statue was so lifelike that it seemed the young man might step down from the stone platform at any moment and speak with a smile.

Though few people came now, the offerings of fruit never ceased through the seasons. It seemed other living things came to pay their respects, too.

Su Yue'er stared blankly. "Qi WuHuo..."

She turned and hurried back toward town. The young man behind her called out, but she didn't stop. Biting her lip, she crossed the mountain path, the busy streets, and the muddy alleys, finally stopping in front of the courtyard. Panting, she pushed at the gate, but it wouldn't open. Before her, the wooden door was shut, and the house stood as it always had.

As if the young man might still open the door and come out. But that was only an illusion.

A sword scabbard lay on the stone table.

Only the plum tree was in bloom. Though spring had already begun, its blossoms still flourished, their fragrance faint and far-reaching—a rare and wondrous sight.

The mortal world was noisy and tangled; here, all was still.

Su Yue'er stood dazed.

The wind blew, and a blossom fell onto the scabbard.

Nothing else remained.

That was all.

She pressed a hand to the wooden door. A sudden sense of loss came over her, and she murmured:

"Qi WuHuo..."

Qi WuHuo and the old man left the town. He had thought they would travel a great distance, but with every step, it felt as though he had already covered a vast stretch of road. The scenery moved past them, yet he himself felt no different. It vaguely resembled the divine ability he had used with the Mountain God Talisman Seal while lecturing on the Dao, but on closer thought, the two were entirely different.

They traveled on. To Qi WuHuo, they had walked for no more than the time it took to drink a cup of tea when the old man finally stopped.

Qi WuHuo drew a quiet breath. The air was damp, like it was before a rain.

A tremendous sound, like thunder, filled his ears.

"Is a storm coming?" he asked.

The old man roared with laughter. "Ha-ha-ha! No, no. Come with me."

The old man led Qi WuHuo a few more steps and stopped atop a rocky outcrop. Looking down, they saw vast blue waves stretching to the horizon in every direction, so broad and majestic they seemed boundless. Swell after swell rolled forward, crashing into each other with a roar like thunder that seemed never to cease.

Stunned by the sight, Qi WuHuo asked, "Is this..."

"Is this the sea?"

"The sea?" The old man shook his head. "No. It can only be called a river."

The boy gaped. "A river?!"

The old man gently stroked his head and smiled. "The world is full of wondrous arts. In time, you'll see them for yourself."

Then he led Qi WuHuo to the riverbank. The surging waves rose into a crest as large as a small mountain. Forget crossing by boat—even flying across seemed impossible. From the mountain, the waters had seemed to reach up and touch the sky. Only at the riverbank could one feel their crushing, awe-inspiring force.

"Does the person you mentioned live nearby, old man?" Qi WuHuo asked.

The old man smiled and shook his head. "They should be on an island in the river."

Qi WuHuo looked at the river. "An island in waters this fierce?"

"Indeed," the old man replied with a smile.

"With a current this strong, how do we cross?"

The old man stroked his beard and smiled. "By boat, of course."

"A boat?"

Qi WuHuo looked around. With waves and wind like these, no boat could possibly cross. There was no one else in sight, either. He went searching for a boat, but returned empty-handed. There were no people around—or even any sign that people had been here. Only a few shells and several thin twigs, each narrower than one of his fingers. He had no idea where they had washed in from.

"There's no boat..." Qi WuHuo said regretfully. "I only found these twigs. I couldn't make a boat out of them."

The old man shook his head with a wry smile. "You—you actually went looking for wood to build a boat?"

"Never mind, never mind. Since you've come all this way..."

"We'll use this 'boat.'"

Qi WuHuo froze as the old man casually picked up one of the thin twigs.

He flicked it with a finger.

The slender twig landed on the water. Though the waves surged, they didn't sweep it away. In an instant, the twig grew, becoming a great timber that stretched across the water. A moment later, towers and pavilions rose upon it, carved beams and painted rafters exquisitely arranged. It had become a magnificent ship. The old man stroked his beard and smiled. "Is this not a boat?"

"And I must thank you for that, WuHuo. Come, come aboard."

The old man stepped onto the ship as casually as if he were walking on level ground. Qi WuHuo followed. He reached out and touched the enormous vessel, feeling its smooth, solid surface. It was real, not an illusion. Without thinking, he asked, "What divine ability is this?"

"Disassemble all things and remake them into treasures; overturn creation, carve symbols and write talismans—this is the art of refining tools."

Then the old man shook his head and said casually, "It's only working with what already exists."

"Nothing but a trivial skill."

"Focus on the art of elixir refinement, WuHuo. Don't become obsessed with this."

Without any visible motion, a powerful wind rose. The ship broke through the towering waves and sailed steadily forward. Standing at the bow, Qi WuHuo looked out at the vast, hazy world and felt his heart and mind open wide. The wind blew his blue robe backward. He was just a commoner's son, and his black hair was tied up with a straw cord so he wouldn't look improper with it hanging loose. Now, as the wind caught it, a few strands streamed behind him.

The old man stroked his beard and smiled. "Your heart and mind are open just now. Why not meditate and refine your vital energy, WuHuo?"

"Yes."

Qi WuHuo set aside the exhilaration of witnessing such a sight.

He sat facing the surging blue waves, his breathing even as he refined his vital energy.

The wind and waves were fierce, and the sound of the breakers thunderous.

Still, he could gather his thoughts and meditate as usual.

Time passed. Around midday, the great ship finally slowed to a stop. When Qi WuHuo opened his eyes, he saw an island before them. It looked as if it were spring, the scenery exquisitely beautiful. Neat houses stood there, unadorned, like the homes of people with a little money to spare.

Paths crisscrossed the fields, and the calls of chickens and dogs carried through the air.

Qi WuHuo saw a man still plowing with a big yellow ox.

The ship drew alongside the shore, and the old man led Qi WuHuo off.

He was even more amazed to find crops growing so well anywhere in the world. The man seemed to sense the old man's arrival and hurried over. Just as he was about to bow, the old man raised a hand to stop him, pressing his palm down slightly as he said with a smile, "No need for formalities."

What surprised Qi WuHuo was that the big yellow ox came over too and nodded in greeting.

The man glanced at Qi WuHuo and smiled. "You said you were coming, so we've spent the past few days preparing some things. Is this child here to serve you?"

"No," the old man said.

His smile faded slightly, and his expression grew more solemn. He replied gently,

"I have recorded his name."

"WuHuo, pay your respects."

The man and the yellow ox were both visibly moved.