To be continued

The following morning.

Ding Songyan and Xu Chang'an left Chengyu Lane together and headed toward Dangkang Temple.

As they passed a stone bridge, Xu Chang'an suddenly stopped and cupped his hands toward Ding Songyan.

"Second Brother Ding, I'll be off now."

Beneath the swaying shade of the locust trees, Ding Songyan asked in puzzlement:

"Where are you going?"

"Did you forget?" Xu Chang'an looked surprised. He glanced furtively left and right, then lowered his voice. "To my master's place. He tests me every five days."

Then why did you even come looking for me? Just to walk together for less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea? Right, you weren't here for me at all. You wanted a chance to see Qingyan... Ding Songyan gave an inward scoff.

Watching Xu Chang'an turn off the road beside the stone bridge into a nearby lane, Ding Songyan continued onward, carrying a Bamboo Basket containing a teapot, folding fan, and other items, along with a folding stool and table.

These were the tools of his livelihood.

His original set had vanished the day before yesterday. He could only cobble this one together from things at home, and he was still missing a few items.

When Ding Songyan reached Dangkang Temple, with its yellow walls and brown roof tiles, the place was already bustling. All manner of hawkers' cries reached his ears:

"Chali Strips for sale! Chali Strips for sale!"

"Songyang Persimmons are a breed apart, moistening your lungs to soothe your heart. Wuping Jujubes reign supreme, chew them well to settle your spleen. Lonely ladies, bachelors forlorn, buy a bite and find a pair!" (Note 1)

"Finely woven bamboo winnowing trays, seamless and tight! Iron hooks and carrying poles, all Lufang Make!"

Before Ding Songyan reached his patch of open ground, he spotted his "god of wealth" from afar.

The girl had changed her attire today. A jade hairpin held up her dark hair in a simple style. She wore a pale purple two-panel skirt beneath a dark purple, front-opening jacket embroidered with flowers and grasses arranged in vertical stripes. It lent her a slender, delicate air, a different kind of grace from yesterday.

"Second Brother Ding!" She raised her right hand and waved. Her upturned eyes curved into smiling crescents, briefly holding the gaze of every passerby, young or old, man or woman.

She actually came early to wait. That's a good sign. It means yesterday's storytelling went reasonably well... Ding Songyan relaxed a little and approached her amid the envious, jealous looks of those around him.

The girl and her maid had also come prepared, bringing two woven bamboo stools and claiming the frontmost seats without hesitation.

Ding Songyan set up his little table beneath the thick shade, placed the teapot on it, and sat down.

He picked up his folding fan and snapped it open. Without waiting for other listeners to gather, he began:

"To pick up where we left off..."

With a detailed outline to work from, his telling flowed more smoothly and confidently this time, with many added details. During his breaks, he did not ask for tips, only drinking water to moisten his throat.

More and more people gathered to listen, drawn by this story so different from the historical romances and tales currently in vogue. The girl in her purple silk jacket rested her chin on one hand and listened intently, her expression changing with the plot:

When Lady White used magic to cause minor illnesses and improve the medicine shop's business, she knitted her dark brows slightly. When Xu Xian's actions moved Lady White and gave her a "human heart," she clasped her hands in relief. When Lady White and Xiaoqing used their demonic abilities to punish evil, reward good, aid the poor, and protect the weak, her right arm stirred slightly, as though she wished to take their place...

When Fahai appeared again and coaxed Xu Xian into testing Lady White with realgar wine, the sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl, her maid, and the other listeners all looked tense and worried, their expressions mingled with anger and hatred.

Ding Songyan did not waver in the slightest. After repeated inward struggles, Xu Xian finally handed Lady White the cup of realgar wine.

Blinded by love, and with Fahai obscuring heaven's workings, Lady White failed to notice anything wrong with the wine. Only after drinking it did she realize something was amiss. She hurried into her room and tried to seal herself away from the outside world, but it was already too late: Xu Xian followed her in, half out of concern and half to confirm the result. Upon seeing her reveal her true form, he died of fright on the spot.

Once the wine's effects passed, Lady White regained her senses. Looking at Xu Xian, now a lifeless corpse, she was overcome with grief, numb and despairing.

There was both the pain of betrayal and the sorrow of being parted from her beloved by death.

Just then, Ding Songyan closed his folding fan and tapped it against his palm.

"As the saying goes: Beneath Qingcheng Mountain, Lady White dwelled, a thousand years within a cavern, cultivating this form... Through tireless practice she attained the Way, shedding her mortal mold to become human..." (Note 2)

The song rose, telling of a heart devoted to the Way and nothing else, of seeking refuge in the Three Jewels to attain a golden body. It formed a stark contrast with Lady White's present plight and surging emotions, lending those feelings greater depth and resonance, making the emptiness and despair all the more palpable.

The girl with the delicate, pointed chin and everyone around her listened in a daze, utterly immersed in the mood Ding Songyan wished to convey. It never occurred to them that the tune and singing style flouted convention.

Their feelings were exceedingly complicated. They were not quite moved to tears, but a dull ache throbbed in their hearts, leaving them with a forlorn sense of loss.

Ding Songyan watched their reactions with great satisfaction.

His only regret was that this song worked best with a woman's voice, one that sounded cool and ethereal, unworldly and transcendent.

After finishing "Madame White Under Qingcheng Mountain," Ding Songyan set down his folding fan, stood, and cupped his hands toward the crowd.

"Dear listeners, to learn what happens next, tune in for the next installment.

"I asked for no tips yesterday. Today, I hope you'll spare enough to put food on my table."

The girl immediately tossed a small silver ingot into Ding Songyan's Bamboo Basket.

Ding Songyan hefted it briefly and guessed it weighed a full tael.

Although earning money was not his reason for telling the "Legend of the White Snake," having some silver fall into his purse was still a very good thing-he might have to pay an apprenticeship fee when he found a master, so saving up in advance could hardly hurt.

"How generous, miss!" Following the customs of his trade, Ding Songyan praised his "god of wealth."

With the girl taking the lead, the other listeners tossed varying amounts of copper coins into the Bamboo Basket, totaling fifty or sixty.

Ding Songyan set down the Bamboo Basket and was about to pack up his stall when he noticed that the girl, her maid, and the other listeners had not dispersed. They were all still standing there.

It's already noon... He cupped his hands again.

"Please come early tomorrow, everyone."

"You're not telling any more today?" The girl in purple silk wore an expression that said, How could you do this? "Not even this afternoon?"

Ding Songyan replied sincerely:

"I still need to reread the storybook for what comes next. I haven't mastered it yet."

I've already pushed the story along at lightning speed. If this were a television series, what I told you today would take a whole week to air!

I even left out plenty of scenes just so I could finish on the Dragon Boat Festival realgar wine incident and whet your appetites. How could I spoil it now?

If I don't leave you tossing and turning tonight, unable to sleep, how will I make a lasting impression?

The other listeners left one after another in disappointment. Only the girl and her maid remained, glaring indignantly at Ding Songyan.

She seems fairly good-tempered, not as spoiled as I imagined... Ding Songyan drew a tentative conclusion from this.

"You... how did that difficult matter you mentioned yesterday turn out?" After thinking for some time, the girl decided to trade an offer of help for the rest of the story.

Talking money would be far too vulgar!

"Thank you for remembering, heroine. It's been resolved." Noticing that nearby medicine-patch sellers and other storytellers were paying attention to their conversation, Ding Songyan deliberately added, "It's just that I hurt my head and forgot a great many things. I don't even remember who harmed me, so I have to rely on others to investigate. Heroine, it truly isn't that I don't want to tell you. I genuinely can't remember, and I need to go home and consult the book. Yesterday, it took the strength of nine oxen and two tigers just to memorize what I told you today."

He was taking the opportunity to spread word of his "disembodied soul syndrome," so that the true supplier of the "Secret Classic of Mountains and Seas" would no longer worry about him and come looking for trouble again.

Seeing how earnestly Ding Songyan spoke, the purple-clad girl waved a hand in helpless disappointment.

"Then hurry home and rest. Over the next few days, I'll ask around for someone who can treat this illness."

Better not cure it. If I'm cured, I won't be me anymore... Muttering inwardly, Ding Songyan said goodbye to the girl and her maid.

After entrusting someone with his tools of the trade, he spent six copper coins on a baked flatbread with a crisp crust and minced pork filling, eating it as he headed toward the Zhen Estate on North Water Street.

"There's still some meat juice in it, and they added a little preserved mustard greens... Not bad, not bad..." Ding Songyan was quite satisfied with today's meal.

Entering the Zhen Estate and arriving at Lotus Pond Courtyard, he met not only his cousin Nuansheng and her maid Cuihe, but also his newly acquired cousin-in-law, Zhen Quanwang.

Zhen Quanwang was in his thirties, dressed in a dark, straight-cut robe and a Pure Yang headcloth favored by Taoists. His upper body leaned slightly forward. He had no beard, though fine facial hair was visible to the naked eye, and his ears resembled a macaque's.

Ding Songyan expressed his family's gratitude to Qin Nuangsheng and Zhen Quanwang for their help over the past few days, then took two things from inside his robe.

One was a hand-copied Buddhist scripture; the other was a folded yellow talisman.

"Cousin-in-law, Cousin Nuansheng, we know the Zhen Estate has wealth and influence and lacks nothing. So my mother simply copied a scripture by hand in the Buddhist shrine, hoping it will bless you with peace and good fortune. There's also this protective talisman. My father obtained it at Songfeng Taoist Temple outside the city, for many children and many blessings."

According to Ding Shengyi and Liu Yuzao, although Qin Nuangsheng was greatly favored by Zhen Quanwang, she had been in the estate for over two years without bearing a single child to secure her position, and this worried her considerably.

Zhen Quanwang and Qin Nuangsheng accepted the thank-you gifts with great satisfaction.

As Ding Songyan had said, what did the Zhen Family lack? What mattered most was the thought behind the gifts.

After they exchanged pleasantries for a while, Zhen Quanwang left Lotus Pond Courtyard to entertain an important guest. Enjoying the breeze from the Water-Driven Fan and the room's late-autumn chill, Ding Songyan finally had a chance to give Qin Nuangsheng a general account of what had happened. He did not mention the "Secret Classic of Mountains and Seas," however, since he did not know whether it was meant to be kept secret from her as well.

At the end, he asked:

"Cousin Nuansheng, do you know where Mr. Yu is? I'd like to thank him in person and give him a modest gift."

Qin Nuangsheng thought for a moment before replying:

"Mr. Yu is very busy these days. When he's free, I'll send someone to let you know."

Unable to meet Mr. Yu and sound him out for information, Ding Songyan considered for a moment, then volunteered:

"Cousin Nuansheng, after what happened, I feel... I feel a man ought to learn some martial arts. Otherwise, he can neither give his parents peace of mind nor protect himself. Do... do you know of any way?"

With the thick skin he had developed over years of entrepreneurship and dozens of verbal battles with investors, his stammer was clearly an act.

Qin Nuangsheng listened with knitted brows, then said slowly:

"Songyan, I understand what you're thinking. But if no one thinks highly enough of you to support you, learning martial arts costs a great deal. You must be prepared for that.

"Don't rush. I'll ask around for you. If you can enter the Zhen Estate's service or study under an Attendant like Mr. Yu, that would be much better than going to a martial arts school."

"Wouldn't the Xiaoming Sect work?" Ding Songyan made no attempt to hide his intentions and showed no embarrassment.

I have 'disembodied soul syndrome.' How would I know what's reasonable?

Qin Nuangsheng laughed despite herself.

"The Xiaoming Sect only recruits disciples once a year, at the end of the year. At any other time, unless one of their experts takes a liking to you and wants you as a disciple, you can forget about it. And even at year's end, their selection is very strict. At your age, unless you have innate talent, it would be very, very difficult."

So I have to wait until year's end? Luckily, I have the 'Secret Classic of Mountains and Seas.' Perhaps I can offer it in exchange... Ding Songyan pondered for a few moments before asking:

"Exactly how old am I?"

Qin Nuangsheng froze, then gave a wry smile.

"You were born in the nineteenth year of Xingping, and you've just turned twenty. That actually isn't too late to cultivate martial arts. To avoid affecting their physical development, even disciples of the great sects don't complete body tempering and qi training and begin aperture refinement until after eighteen."

"What rank would that be?" Ding Songyan asked curiously.

Qin Nuangsheng laughed.

"Unranked."

Note 1: Adapted from lyrics in the Yuan-dynasty variety play "The Dashing Wang Huan at the Pavilion of a Hundred Flowers." The play was so popular at the time that these lyrics became a standard template for street vendors' cries.

Note 2: Quoted from the song "Madame White Under Qingcheng Mountain."