Fifty li south of Bluestone Town lay Azure Cloud Mountain, a range stretching for a hundred li, its slopes teeming with tigers, leopards, and venomous insects. The elders said immortals had once appeared in those mountains.
At the foot of the mountain stood a village called Upper Yang Village. It was small, with only seventy or eighty households.
A family surnamed Xu lived on the eastern side of the village. The husband, Xu Zicai, was a scholar who had never passed the higher examinations. He earned his living teaching, supplementing his income by writing letters, legal petitions, and the like for others. His wife, Chen Shi, knew a little of the healing arts, and she had delivered nearly every child in the village.
The couple had one son, who had just turned ten that year. He had been born with a blue-green birthmark the size of a copper coin on his forehead, so they named him Xu Qingtong.
From an early age, Xu Qingtong had been bright, eager to learn, well-behaved, and quick-witted. He had read every book in the house, and could recite many of them backward without stumbling. He also possessed an extraordinary gift unlike that of ordinary people-he could divide his attention between two tasks!
At five, Xu Qingtong could draw a circle with one hand and a square with the other. By seven, his gift had become even more striking: he could write different characters with both hands at once, his brushstrokes bold and magnificent, his forms full of expressive flair. He was even a match for his father, who taught for a living.
Once, a wandering physician passed through Upper Yang Village. After seeing Xu Qingtong, he said, "This child possesses exceptional gifts and the roots of wisdom. If a renowned master guides him, he will not remain a creature confined to a little pond!"
The physician had the bearing of an immortal, with an unfathomable air that marked him as an extraordinary man. Xu Zicai insisted that he stay for a meal. Afterward, Xu Zicai said, "You strike me as a master living in seclusion, sir. Would you take my son as your disciple?"
The physician shook his head. "My abilities are not enough to make me this child's teacher. In gratitude for your meal, I will give him this talisman. It will prove of great use one day." With that, he took out a small plaque and handed it to Xu Zicai.
Xu Zicai accepted it and examined it in his hand. The little plaque seemed to be made of peach wood. Its front bore a carving of a long-bearded man holding a treasured sword aloft, while the name "Shentu" was carved on the back.
When Xu Qingtong was eight, he fell gravely ill. His high fever would not break, and he lay unconscious for three days and three nights.
His plump little face was as red as a ripe tomato, hot enough to burn the hand that touched it. His thick brows sometimes drew together and sometimes spread apart. His little hands moved along with them, grasping and groping without pause.
Although Chen Shi knew something of medicine, she was at best a half-trained physician. After several attempts at treatment, her son showed no improvement, and she was already so frightened that all six of her spirits had fled.
Desperate with worry, Xu Zicai hurried to Bluestone Town to fetch a doctor.
When the doctor arrived, he took Xu Qingtong's pulse with an air of practiced authority, lifted his eyelids to examine them, then pinched his mouth open and sniffed. After that, he sat motionless, his brows twisted into a knot and his eyes closed in thought.
In the end, the doctor shook his head, stood, and left.
At this, Chen Shi could no longer hold back her tears, which poured down her face. Xu Zicai's expression grew darker still as he paced endlessly before the bed.
Perhaps his allotted span had not yet run out. Just as the Xu family began preparing for his funeral, Xu Qingtong suddenly woke.
With his eyes half open, he murmured groggily, "I'm thirsty. I want some water!" Then he closed his eyes again.
Chen Shi hurried to pour a bowl of water, propped little Qingtong into a half-sitting position, and helped him drink it.
An hour passed before Xu Qingtong suddenly sat up and looked around in bewilderment. At last, his gaze settled on his parents, and he asked hesitantly, "Father, Mother, am I still alive?"
Chen Shi was so overwhelmed that she could barely speak coherently. "Alive... alive, you're still alive!" she repeated. "Husband, quick, come here! Qingtong is awake!"
Seeing his son awake, Xu Zicai strode to the bedside and touched his forehead. It was no longer nearly so hot; clearly, the fever had broken. Only then did he ask, "Qingtong, how do you feel now?"
Xu Qingtong shook his head, then blinked several times. "My head feels as though it's grown bigger. My whole body aches, and my arms and legs feel weak."
"Son, I'll make you something nice to eat. Lie down and rest for a while!" Chen Shi said tenderly, then turned and hurried to the kitchen.
Xu Zicai placed a pillow behind his son's back so he could recline, then sat beside him, touching his forehead one moment and his hands the next.
After sitting in a daze for a while, Xu Qingtong said slowly, "Father, I had a very, very long dream. I dreamed I fell off a cliff. The cliff was so deep, so very deep. I kept falling and falling. After a long time, I finally fell into a cloud."
Xu Qingtong stared straight ahead as he continued recalling the dream. "After I fell into the cloud, I discovered I'd turned into a little furry ball. There were lots of threads in the clouds around me, and they tangled around me."
He stopped there, sinking into thought. Just then, his mother came in carrying a large bowl. It held freshly cooked noodles topped with two poached eggs, chopped scallions, and coriander, their fragrance tempting.
Xu Qingtong took a few bites and continued, "After the threads tangled around me, they started pulling me apart. It hurt terribly, right through my heart. I clawed around everywhere, trying to break free, but I couldn't grab anything. The threads wound tighter and tighter, pulling in opposite directions without stopping. Finally, I felt a pain that tore through my heart and lungs. I was ripped in half, and I passed out."
"What happened after that?" his mother asked anxiously.
"I don't know how much time passed, but then I saw two of me in the cloud-two identical furry balls. Then I woke up," Xu Qingtong answered. "Father, what happened to me?" As he spoke, he turned to Xu Zicai.
Xu Zicai thought for a long time but could make no sense of it. All he could say was, "As long as you're all right! As long as you're all right!"
After his grave illness, Xu Qingtong always felt that his head had grown larger, though to everyone else he looked unchanged. He himself, however, knew that he had indeed changed. Sitting in the doorway, he could see ants crawling on the trees in the courtyard and hear leaves landing on the ground.
One night, he even heard Niu Er's wife say from fifty zhang away, "You old rascal, stop being so shameless!"
One day, after a busy day's work, the Xu family ate an early supper, closed their door, and went to bed.
Just after nine that night, Xu Qingtong seemed to hear something at the front gate in his sleep. He hurriedly woke his father. "Father, I think there's someone outside."
Xu Zicai draped on his clothes, picked up a lantern, and left the room. Once in the courtyard, he tilted his head and listened carefully. Sure enough, there was a noise at the gate, and he hurried to open it.
The moment the gate opened, a person covered in blood toppled through it.
Xu Zicai looked closely. The stranger's face was bluish, his eyes dull, and his breathing as faint as a thread. His clothes were torn and ragged, as though he had just been in a fight. Judging by his clothing, he was probably not a local.
Xu Zicai hung up the lantern and helped the stranger into the courtyard. He had barely called, "Wife, come quickly!" when he fell stiffly to the ground with a thud.
Hearing that something was wrong, Xu Qingtong hastily called to his mother, and they went into the courtyard together.
The sight before them left mother and son stunned, their mouths agape! Xu Zicai lay rigid on the ground, his face dark blue, his eyes tightly shut. White foam bubbled from his mouth, and his limbs convulsed without stopping.
Another man lay beside Xu Zicai, covered in blood, his clothes in tatters and his hair disheveled. His face was likewise dark blue.
Chen Shi started forward to pull Xu Zicai up, but Xu Qingtong caught hold of her. "Mother, don't go over there! Father and that man must have been struck by a deadly poison!"
Xu Qingtong had read widely since childhood, and the scene before him let him guess roughly what had happened. He hurried back into the house, took out a cloth, wet it, and covered his mouth and nose before carefully approaching his father.
Xu Zicai had stopped convulsing. What seeped from the corners of his mouth was no longer white foam, but black, bloody fluid.
Xu Qingtong carefully brought his fingers close to his father's nostrils and checked for breath. Suddenly, he collapsed onto his backside and burst into loud sobs.
"Mother, Father... Father isn't going to live..." At her son's words, Chen Shi fainted on the spot.
Xu Qingtong hurried to support his mother, pinching the groove above her upper lip and pounding her back until he finally brought her around.
Shortly after his mother regained consciousness, a pale white gleam rose from the blood-covered stranger and flew straight into Xu Qingtong's blue-green birthmark, disappearing.
Xu Qingtong felt a wave of dizziness. He turned to look-the man was already dead!
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