A Wicked Loach

He An and Fan Dazhi found a clinic and had their wounds bandaged. Fortunately, the wounds were small, and the bleeding had been stopped in time. Apart from some lingering pain, they were no longer a serious concern.

The two then picked a cloth shop at random, spent a few large copper coins on several feet of fabric, and had the shopkeeper make them each a set of clothes.

In a single afternoon out, they had inexplicably run into a bunch of unreasonable people, inexplicably gotten into a fight, and then inexplicably been injured. On top of that, they had spent a fair amount of money for nothing. He An's mood inexplicably soured as well.

Fan Dazhi rubbed his aching shoulder. "Ah... if we'd known it would turn out like this, we should've done what I said and gone straight for a good meal. Then we wouldn't have run into those mad dogs... they started hitting us the moment they came over. They really were vicious!"

Still shaken, he added, "It's strange, though. Every time we go out to spend some money properly, we end up fighting someone. Last time it was a pretty little firecracker, and this time it was a vicious pretty boy. You get hurt every time. Xiao An... could your fate be at odds with gold? Looks like I'd better handle all the spending myself from now on!"

He An smiled, then shook his head. "It's different. That girl named Chanjuan hurt me by accident last time, but the person with the flying sword this time wanted my life. My uncle once told me that martial artists must never use their strength to bully the weak, much less oppress decent people. When you run into something like this, especially someone trying to kill you, you mustn't show mercy..."

Fan Dazhi slapped his thigh hard and exclaimed admiringly, "I like what your uncle said. He couldn't be more right!" Then his face fell. "Too bad I don't know how to fight. Ever since I was little, seeing a fight has scared me. Otherwise, I'd definitely have helped you give them a good beating!"

Several people carried Cui Mengshu back to the Cui residence in a flurry of hands and feet. The old steward who opened the door turned pale with shock, and the entire residence soon erupted into chaos. In his fury, Cui Lishen, vice minister of revenue, smashed a Celadon Four-Season Vase he was particularly fond of.

The capital's most renowned physician was soon invited to the Cui residence, and his diagnosis sent Cui Lishen into an outright rage. His precious son's breastbone was shattered, and his ribs were broken in six places. He would need prolonged bed rest and care; even if he recovered fully, it would take at least three months.

Cui Lishen's hair and beard bristled with fury, and he trembled all over as he paced anxiously around the reception hall. The maids and servants of the Cui residence were too frightened even to breathe loudly. With a roar, he summoned the Cui Family's chief guard instructor. "Investigate! Find out who swallowed a bear's heart and a leopard's gall and dared injure my son! I won't let them off lightly!"

Wild geese flew south, and the wind blew the leaves down. Beneath the ginkgo trees in the Knowledge and Practice Institute, fallen leaves danced lightly in the morning breeze like fluttering yellow butterflies. In two more days, the students who had passed the examinations would move into the institute.

Fang Yizhi rose early and practiced several rounds of boxing beneath the ginkgo trees. When the sun came up, he went to the dining hall for breakfast, then returned to his lodgings to tidy up the notes he had written while reading the previous night. By the time he finished and left the Knowledge and Practice Institute, the sun was already high.

He bought some fine Shenzhou Cheyun Mountain Maofeng tea on the street, then went to the Dingding Chancellor's Residence to visit Ding Feiyong, minister of the Court of State Ceremonial.

Ding Feiyong was Chancellor Ding Fengyuan's younger son, accomplished in both scholarly and martial pursuits. The elder son had died on the battlefield during the uprising. After Ding Fengyuan became chancellor, he kept Ding Feiyong out of court to avoid any appearance of favoritism, instead sending him to teach at the Knowledge and Practice Institute. When Fang Yizhi first entered the institute, his diligence and eagerness to learn had earned Ding Feiyong's affection. Ding Feiyong had helped him greatly in both his studies and daily life, and Fang Yizhi deeply respected this teacher.

Later, unwilling to spend his entire life as an instructor at the Knowledge and Practice Institute, Ding Feiyong begged his father to let him enter court and serve the country. Unable to dissuade him, Minister Ding arranged only a quiet post as minister of the Court of State Ceremonial. After Ding Feiyong left the institute, Fang Yizhi continued to visit his former teacher often at the chancellor's residence.

Fang Yizhi followed the steward through the residence's covered corridors and soon found Ding Feiyong. The current chancellor's son was tending the soil in his own nursery garden. He was in his forties, with a square face, large ears, and a beard beneath his chin as dark as thick ink. His complexion was ruddy and his eyes bright. He wore only a short jacket on his upper body, and his sturdy, powerful arms held a hoe.

He had just planted two beds of winter vegetables. Though it was already late autumn, fine beads of sweat covered his forehead, and faint wisps of heat rose from his strong body in the sunlight. Seeing Fang Yizhi, he set down the hoe and warmly invited him to sit at the stone table in the nursery. A servant arrived at just the right moment with a pot of freshly brewed chrysanthemum tea.

Ding Feiyong scraped the mud from his shoes, then cheerfully poured Fang Yizhi a cup of tea first. "People say that a family founded on virtue endures for more than ten generations; one founded on farming and learning comes next, then one founded on poetry and books. A family founded on wealth and rank lasts no more than three generations. Yet from our rise in the Shu Region down to my father, the Ding family has endured for twenty-one generations. Do you know why, Yi Zhi?"

Filled with respect, Fang Yizhi rose and bowed. "Minister Ding has rendered great service to the country through tireless labor. As for his management of the family, people also say that he often teaches that farming and learning sustain a family through the ages, while poetry and books serve the world for generations..."

Ding Feiyong waved a hand. "In truth, all our family has done these past few centuries is seek good fortune and avoid calamity. Only in my great-grandfather's generation did we begin serving as officials at court. My father has always held to the principle of forming no factions or pursuing private gain above, and competing with no common people for profit below. Though he has served in office for many years, he has always remained fearful and cautious, as though treading on thin ice... enough of that. Tell me, Yi Zhi, what brings you here today?"

Fang Yizhi first asked after Minister Ding's illness, then explained why he had come. He had completed his teaching practicum at the Knowledge and Practice Institute and would soon graduate. He wanted to make something of himself in the military. Certain that the emperor would eventually launch a campaign against Western Liang, he hoped to serve at the headquarters of the Western Expedition Army stationed in Lanzhou.

Ding Feiyong looked at his former student, who had grown step by step over the years and now carried himself with composure while remaining full of enthusiasm. Thinking of how he himself could not follow his own wishes despite his exalted status as the chancellor's son, he could not help feeling deeply moved.

Fang Yizhi also mentioned that during his latest teaching assignment away from the institute, he had taken on two fine students. Both had earned admission to the Knowledge and Practice Institute with outstanding marks of upper first class in every examination subject.

Ding Feiyong stroked his beard approvingly and praised Fang Yizhi. "Though you appear generous and mild, beneath that you are rigorous in scholarship and proud to the bone. Anyone who earns your favor must be extraordinary. My daughter Wenruo will also be studying at the Knowledge and Practice Institute this time. Bring them over to meet her next time, so they can look out for one another."

Fang Yizhi gladly agreed. He stood and respectfully filled Ding Feiyong's cup to the brim, then humbly sought his advice on military life and strategy.

He An had rarely left the inn these past few days. The wound on his arm had scabbed over, and apart from a dull ache when he exerted himself, it was no longer a serious concern. Counting down the days until he was to report to the Knowledge and Practice Institute, he spent his time at the inn copying calligraphy models and reading, or meditating and practicing the internal cultivation method his uncle had taught him.

Fan Dazhi had kept He An company in his studies these past few days, but after only two days of good behavior, he began itching to get out again. Yesterday, he had secretly slipped out to buy a roast goose, claiming it was to help He An regain his strength. In the end, however, more than half of it had gone into his own stomach.

That morning, the fellow kept complaining that reading was giving him a headache. Secretly amused, He An concentrated on finishing a section of a stele rubbing. When he looked up, Fan Dazhi had vanished.

He An had just written out the Yi Mountain Stele from memory again when the door suddenly opened with a bang. Fan Dazhi rushed in carrying a heap of things in his arms, dumped them onto the table, then hurriedly bolted the door.

He An turned to look. On the table lay a sesame-oil roast chicken, a soy-braised duck, a smoked rabbit, two saury cooked in fermented rice wine, and an autumn pear that was still spinning around.

Fan Dazhi came over, patted his chest, and let out a long breath. "Oh! That scared me to death!"

He An teased him. "You went out in broad daylight. Did you run into a ghost?"

Fan Dazhi picked up a half-full bowl of water that had been poured who knew when, gulped down several mouthfuls, then wiped the water from the corner of his mouth and panted, "Xiao An, you have no idea. I just saw someone on the street. He was terrifying!"

"Oh? Who could scare you this badly?" He An asked in puzzlement.

"An old man with an awl-shaped face. His whiskers looked like this." As he spoke, Fan Dazhi gesticulated wildly to show He An. "He looked really strange, like... a loach. Yes, a loach! He kept sidling up to women in the crowd and leering at them. While I was buying things, he glanced at me. His eyes were so sinister, so frightening. He followed me all the way back. That man definitely isn't a good person... he scared me to death!" After finishing, Fan Dazhi patted his chest again, still shaken.

"You said he likes looking at women, so why did he follow you after one glance? Could it be that you're so handsome he took a liking to you too?" He An could not help laughing.

"You... Xiao An, you didn't see him. He really was..." Before Fan Dazhi could finish, a knock suddenly sounded at the door.

Fan Dazhi jolted and rushed to the door. Sticking his backside out, he peered through the crack. After a single glance, he turned to He An, his face deathly pale. "It's him. He's here!"

The knocking rapidly grew fiercer. He An had barely risen when the bolt snapped in two with a crack. Fan Dazhi hastily backed away in fright, and the door was shoved open with a violent bang. A man walked in.

The man wore a gray brocade robe and was tall and thin. His hair was tied in a loose topknot, with a silver hairpin thrust through it at an angle. Beneath sparse brows were a pair of sinister, triangular eyes, and two wisps of whiskers fluttered on his narrow, pointed face. He looked exactly like the loach Fan Dazhi had described.

The gray-robed man swept his sinister gaze over Fan Dazhi and He An, then gave a laugh like a night owl's cry. "So it really is you two little whelps. Come along with your grandpa!"

His hand shot out like lightning, seizing Fan Dazhi by the nape and lifting him like a hawk snatching a chick. In a flash, he closed in, reaching for He An with his other hand.

He An hurriedly set his internal cultivation method in motion and unleashed the killing moves of the Cloud-Riding Hand at his opponent without holding anything back.

The gray-robed man gave a faint sound of surprise, but his large hand only paused for an instant. "No wonder you wounded Young Master Cui so badly. You little brat do have a trick or two. But now that you've met your grandpa, you'd best surrender quietly." Speaking in a mocking, affected tone, he casually parried with one hand, instantly dissolving He An's fierce assault.

He An was horrified. The man before him was using only one hand, yet an invisible pressure left him struggling to breathe. The most powerful killing moves of the Cloud-Riding Hand were effortlessly neutralized in an instant, while that large hand continued reaching toward him at an unhurried pace. No matter how He An dodged, his opponent seemed to foresee it, moving later yet arriving first.

That large hand had already sealed off every avenue of retreat. He An struck his opponent's arm with all his strength, but the force that could have snapped a tree stump as thick as a bowl's mouth vanished like a clay ox sinking into the sea. The man was utterly unaffected. His index finger suddenly jabbed forward, and He An's chest felt as though it had been struck by a sledgehammer. The pain tore through his heart and lungs.

The wound beneath the bandage on He An's arm split open, blood seeping through. His face pale, he clutched his chest, unable to resist any longer. The gray-robed man scooped him up with his large hand and lifted him into the air.

As the gray-robed man lifted He An in his left hand, Fan Dazhi, held in his right, suddenly began struggling desperately. He threw his arms around the man's thigh as though clinging to a thick bamboo pole and wailed, "Let go of me... Xiao An, run!" The gray-robed man raised his hand and lightly struck the back of Fan Dazhi's neck. Fan Dazhi instantly passed out.

The gray-robed man gave another laugh like a night owl's cry, then strode out with one boy dangling from each hand!