Fire-Repelling Technique

"Young man, you didn't get burned, did you?"

"No, no..."

"Your body and hair were given to you by your parents. We'd feel guilty if even a few strands got burned."

"I just wasn't careful myself."

"Just stand a little farther away, heh heh heh. Let me take another breath."

The old man beamed, evidently immensely satisfied by everyone's astonished reactions. He returned to the brazier, lowered his head, and took a deep breath.

"Hiss..."

At once, the blazing fire streamed into his mouth and nose like smoke.

Lin Jue's vision blurred for a moment. It was as though, upon reaching the old man's mouth, the flames naturally transformed into a glowing breath or mist. Even after entering his nose and mouth, their radiance could still be seen through his flesh.

But that blur lasted only an instant.

Once the instant passed, everything was normal again.

Lin Jue could not help raising a hand to rub his eyes. When he looked again, he saw nothing—only a smug old man spitting fire.

For a while, he stood there bewildered and doubtful.

Before long, neither side would yield, and they actually agreed to compete. A line was drawn through the middle of the grounds. Money on one side would go to the old man, money on the other to the original performer. Both sides would display their skills, and whichever one the onlookers preferred, they would toss money to that side. Thus would victory be decided.

The performer used the Fishing Trick.

The old man chopped off his own hand for the audience to see, then reattached it.

The performer put on the Cloth-Cutting Act.

The old man borrowed books and silk cloth from the crowd, threw them all into the brazier and burned them to ashes. Yet moments later, he retrieved them from elsewhere, wholly untouched.

For a time, it was a splendid spectacle.

Some favored sheer skill. The old man was plainly the better performer, so they tossed money and other things toward his side. Others felt the middle-aged performer had justice on his side. His words were also exceedingly pleasing to hear, and they had liked him from the start. Seeing him bullied and wronged now, they could not help sympathizing with him and feeling indignant on his behalf, so they threw more money and goods toward the middle-aged performer.

There were also those who egged things on for fun and tossed things to both sides, as well as misers who did not part with a single coin.

Yet Lin Jue gradually noticed something was wrong—

When that group of performers had first been doing their tricks, the people behind them had beaten gongs, drums, and cymbals. That was one thing. But the two sides were clearly opponents, so why were those same people beating gongs and drums to heighten the atmosphere when the old man performed?

Could their dispute truly have been so gentlemanly?

This continued until well into the afternoon. The performers were exhausted, and spectators began leaving for home one after another. Only then did the performers say they were done for the day and start packing up.

The old man chuckled as though he had won the contest. He bent down and picked up the money from his side, then grandly swept a hand and gave all the remaining items to the middle-aged performer before strolling away at ease. The middle-aged performer was furious, yet had to feign magnanimity and clasp his hands in thanks. His expression remained unpleasant, but he still politely saw the spectators off, agreed on the time and place for tomorrow, and told everyone to come again if they had the time.

Lin Jue could not help feeling disappointed.

He had not seen more spells.

The old man's Severed-Hand Trick was wondrous. Of all the tricks, it was the one Lin Jue was most certain likely belonged within the realm of magic. Yet he had not felt that strange sensation from it.

He could only speculate for now; he could not determine the reason.

He wondered whether the Ancient Book had reacted.

Only then did he suddenly remember that he had arranged to meet Cousin on the street behind Luo Xian Temple.

That Cousin was rather simple and upright, only sixteen or seventeen years old. Having waited so long without seeing him, would he not think something had happened to him?

"Not good!"

Lin Jue hurried toward that direction.

He wound through streets and alleys.

Several times, he wanted to stop, take off his back basket, and pull the Ancient Book from his robes for a look, but he forcibly resisted.

Not until he reached the appointed place.

Cousin was indeed not there.

Lin Jue did not know where he had gone and did not dare search for him at random, so he could only stand there and wait.

Fortunately, before long, a dark-skinned youth carrying a large back basket approached. From the way the basket swayed, one could tell it was empty.

Upon seeing Lin Jue, he immediately hurried over.

"How long have you been here?"

"I... just got here."

"Just got here? Then did you look around? Did you watch the tricks?" Cousin's eyes widened at once.

"I did..."

Facing his clear, guileless eyes, Lin Jue felt somewhat guilty.

"Whew..."

But Cousin could not help letting out a breath of relief.

"It's good that you looked around. Good that you watched. There were too many people selling mountain bamboo shoots today—many were little children only this tall." Cousin gestured to a height roughly at his chest. "Luckily, I followed what you said last time and went to ask at the gates of noble persons' homes in the city. When they saw how good the shoots were, they bought them all."

"This?"

"I nearly made you wait half the day. Good thing you're clever."

"Hm?"

"How did you know I wouldn't be able to sell them?"

"I..."

"Forget it if you won't say! Have you eaten? The food is still with me. After we eat, let's walk around some more, pay our respects at Luo Xian Temple, then head back around nightfall." Cousin took two Takuo from his back basket and handed one to him first.

"It'd be better to get back before dark." Lin Jue thought of the ghostly shadows he had seen in the bamboo grove that morning.

"There's time. At worst, we'll run part of the way."

"Mhm..."

Lin Jue had already taken the Takuo and begun eating.

Takuo were thin griddle-baked cakes, each one thin as a sheet. Some were large, some small. The ones Aunt made were nearly as large as a face, filled with preserved mustard greens or diced dried bamboo shoots. They were dry and easy to carry, common provisions for local merchants traveling for trade.

"Did you buy the medicine?"

"I did."

"How much cheaper was it?"

"Calculated by the month, it's two thousand cash less than last time."

"Let me see..."

The two walked and ate, chatting idly.

But Lin Jue was somewhat distracted.

After eating, they paid their respects at Luo Xian Temple and strolled about again. Unfortunately, they did not see another scene that transcended the ordinary. Even when they encountered witches and sorcerers on the road, none displayed any unusual ability in the street. They also saw a disabled Daoist fortune-teller beneath a bridge, but neither of them could afford the fee for a reading.

Only when the sun had sunk farther west did they begin heading out.

As they neared the city gates and passed through a narrow alley, Lin Jue casually looked up—and froze.

Ahead of them in the alley was that very group of performers.

Looking closely, he saw not only the troupe originally led by the middle-aged performer, but also the old man. There were even several spectators who had joined in the heckling earlier. They were gathered together now, eating dry provisions.

The old man sat atop a wooden chest, seated higher than anyone else.

He looked more like the leader.

When he turned and saw Lin Jue—and saw that Lin Jue was looking at him too—he was surprised as well. Smiling, he set down the steamed cake in his hand and said, "Young Master hasn't come to demand compensation for his hair, has he?"

"Of course not."

Lin Jue followed behind Cousin as they approached them.

"Just passing by?"

"Just passing by."

"Then we're fated to meet!"

"We truly are." Lin Jue nodded, then looked around at them. After thinking for a moment, he asked, "Are you all together?"

"Ah!"

The old man shook his head helplessly. With a smile, he clasped his hands toward the sky. "It was merely a trick to entertain the honored spectators. Not worth mentioning."

"So that was it..."

"Not worth mentioning. Not worth mentioning."

"I understand, I understand."

Presumably, some people at the scene had seen through these routines or known about them from the beginning. But as the old man had said, it was simply a performer's trick to entertain spectators and earn some money. There was truly no need to expose it.

Lin Jue had already followed Cousin and was slowly walking on. They had passed the performers, but he truly could not understand, so he stopped again and turned back to ask:

"May I ask, sir, was that Fire-Repelling Technique you performed today a spell, a Divine Ability?"

"A spell?" The old man had just been about to bite into his cake when he paused. He frowned before replying, "If you say it isn't a spell, then it truly is no ordinary method. But if you call it a spell, those masters with true cultivation and genuine skill would likely laugh at us if they heard."

That meant it was a spell.

"Then..."

For a moment, Lin Jue did not know how to phrase it. After arranging his thoughts, he asked, "Aren't those who know spells all cultivating masters? Why, then, are you working so hard here to earn this bitter money?"

"Hahahaha! What Divine Masters? We merely know a few little tricks! They can't help us steal and can't help us rob. If we don't earn this bitter money, what else should we do?" The old man threw back his head and laughed. "Besides, we only came from the Capital City to attend a Daoist gathering at Profound Heaven Temple on Mount Qi Yun. We merely stopped to rest awhile and earn some travel money along the way."

The middle-aged performer nodded as well. "Making money by skill is never shameful, no matter how it's done. Deceiving and swindling people is what's shameful! Besides, these are proper Performance Arts passed down by our ancestors. They were meant to be performed for people to see!"

"That makes sense." Lin Jue nodded thoughtfully, then asked, "A Daoist gathering on Mount Qi Yun?"

"That's right..."

"I wonder what that is?"

"Your family lives here, yet you don't even know Mount Qi Yun? It is one of Daoism's famous mountains. This year's Grand Ceremony is being held at Profound Heaven Temple on Mount Qi Yun. We're all going to join in the excitement."

"A famous mountain..."

Lin Jue frowned in thought.

"It's getting dark. You two Young Masters, don't overthink it. Hurry home." The old man spoke with a genial smile.

"May I presumptuously ask one more question? When is the Daoist gathering?"

"Young Master has listened to too many stories. Even if you long for Daoist cultivation and immortals, don't set your mind on this. Go home." The old man wore the expression of someone who had seen plenty of youngsters like them. He smiled and waved them off, though he was quite easy to talk to.

"Then thank you for your guidance."

Following the customs of this world, Lin Jue saluted them to show respect, then left with Cousin.

Yet he could not help looking back as he walked.

The performers remained seated there, each chewing cakes and drinking water as they spoke quietly.

Who knew what tricks they would perform tomorrow.

Or what scene they would put on again.

Lin Jue merely quickened his pace with Cousin.

They narrowly made it home before dark.

Lin Jue handed all the medicinal herbs to Aunt for storage. Without even eating dinner, he returned to his room.

He took out the Ancient Book and hurriedly opened it.

Sure enough, a new passage had appeared in the book:

The Fire-Repelling Technique: a Performance Art.