Chapter 123
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The setting sun had vanished beyond the mountain ridge, and old, grimy lanterns were hung beneath the eaves on both sides of the street.
Lu Liangsheng led the old donkey along the road. This remote northern county bore much resemblance to Fushui—wandering swordsmen with blades strapped to their backs, reeking of wine, passed by clutching bottles, drawing only a glance from the pedestrians, who hurried along without pause.
Street vendors were gathering up their tables and stools, lifting their shoulder poles in preparation to leave. Inns with fluttering sign flags buzzed with noise and voices. A waiter delivered a dish to a table, then stepped to the doorway, pulled the rag from his shoulder, welcomed two guests inside, and still found time to holler spiritedly into the street:
“Step right up, good sirs! Take a look, take a whiff! No one home, cold hearth, wife’s off visiting her mother—nothing to worry about! Come in for a cup of fragrant rice wine, a bowl of steaming hot millet, comfort like no other! We’ve also got tender lamb and glistening pork, dripping with juice…”
As they passed the inn, the Toad Daoist leaned forward, sniffing hard in the direction of the scent, then smacked his lips.
“Liangsheng, this sky’s getting dark—no need to wander around on this quiet street. Let’s find a place to rest early. We’ve got a long road ahead tomorrow.”
Inside the inn, the place was full and lively. The aroma of wine and dishes drifted out. Lu Liangsheng’s stomach gave a couple of audible growls. Smiling, he turned to glance at the toad perched on the donkey’s head.
“Master, you’re hungry too, aren’t you?”
Atop the donkey’s head, the Toad Daoist was eyeing a platter of meat in the waiter’s hands. Upon hearing his disciple’s words, he quickly averted his gaze, straightening his face.
“What are you looking at your master for? How could I be so unseemly?”
“Actually, I’m hungry too. Haven’t had a hot bite all day. That smell’s really tempting. Let’s stay at this inn tonight. We can even pick up some wine to take along.”
Lu Liangsheng, naturally, didn’t expose him. Reaching into his sleeve for some silver, the toad on the donkey’s head gripped its webbed hands tightly, eyes fixed on the procession of dishes, speaking with excitement:
“This master would like some braised pork. Best if there’s a few taels of tender lamb too—make sure it’s steamed. A boiled egg wouldn’t be bad either… slurp.”
Before his disciple could reply, the Toad anxiously turned around. Lu Liangsheng’s smile froze on his face as he pulled out a small pouch from his sleeve. A few copper coins tumbled into his palm.
“Master, looks like we’re out of money.”
The Toad: “…”
When they first set out from home, they had over thirty taels. Lu Liangsheng had thought that would be enough to cover expenses on the road. But after returning home once midway, he hadn’t taken more.
“From He Valley County, to the capital, then to Heliang Prefecture, and back again… Now heading north, staying at inns, eating meals, buying wine—just like that, all the silver’s been spent…”
Gurgle~
The toad rose to stand upright, sniffing at the drifting aroma of food, and swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
“How about using an illusion to conjure up some silver and eat first?”
“We can’t shortchange an honest trade.”
Though the scholar was hungry too, illusion was false in the end—cheating for food and drink was something he had never done, nor did he have the face to do it now. He pulled out half a flatbread and stuffed it into the Toad Daoist’s hands, then led the old donkey beneath the eaves a short distance from the inn. From the bookshelf slung at the donkey’s side, he fetched the Four Treasures of the Study.
“What are you up to now?”
Watching his disciple grind the ink, the Toad Daoist chewed on the half-flatbread and craned his neck curiously.
Ink-black strokes flowed from the scholar’s brush. In a few short moments, the old donkey shifted aside as a small banner appeared out of thin air, thrusting into the ground. A long table rose up, followed by three rows of scroll racks, each emerging as if sprouting from the earth.
“All done.”
With the final stroke, Lu Liangsheng set down his brush. On the banner, four bold characters shimmered into view: “Flourishing Arts of Calligraphy and Painting.”
“Rather than do something dishonest for a free meal, better to earn it with one’s own hands. Don’t you think so, Master?”
He placed his brush, ink, paper, and inkstone on the long table, then pulled out a blank scroll from the bookshelf and laid it across the surface. He unfurled the scroll of Nie Honglian and hung it in the most prominent spot as a sample to draw in customers.
“Honglian, hope you don’t mind.”
In the painting, the young woman swinging on the autumn swing blinked her eyes.
“As long as Young Master doesn’t really sell this little one off, I won’t complain.”
“Hmph.”
The Toad Daoist, stomach growling, sat down by the leg of the table. Munching on his flatbread, he closed his eyes and swallowed hard, casting a sideways glance at the painting.
“Even if you were sold off, wouldn’t you just come back on your own?”
Within the scroll, Nie Honglian gave a little huff as well. Swinging gently, her bright eyes glanced toward the scholar busy hanging paintings.
“Young Master wouldn’t bear to let me go.”
“Don’t speak—don’t go scaring away the customers.”
Lu Liangsheng, having finished setting everything up, plopped down carelessly behind the long table. In his view, the lanterns along the street swayed gently; few pedestrians walked the cold and desolate road. A night breeze swept down from the end of the street, whirling a dry leaf past the front of his stall.
“Uh… as cultivators walking the path of Dao, aren’t we kind of miserable?”
The Toad Daoist clutched the remnant of the flatbread, opening one eye.
“Take out the word ‘we’.”
At that, Honglian inside the painting couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Lu Liangsheng chuckled and rubbed his forehead, then habitually reached for the black-gourd, gave it a shake in his hand—
“Sigh, no wine.”
As he sighed, warm yellow light poured out from the inn at the street’s end. Five men, arms slung around each other, stumbled out with laughter and drunken cheer.
“Brother Chongwen, what a drinker you are! Truly a northern man!” “But of course! Else why would the four of us have chosen to follow Wang Sheng?”
“You fool! How can you still call him ‘Wang Sheng’? From this day on, we must all address him as Brother Chongwen!”
“Haha, that’s right… Brother Chongwen, allow me to carry the lantern for you, let me!”
At the center of the group was a man with refined features, wearing a pale blue scholar’s headscarf. The lantern lighting the way in his hand was quickly taken over by the others in their enthusiasm. He gave a satisfied shake of his sleeves, smiling broadly as he said:
“‘The Four Refined of the Southern Province’—your names have long been known even in these parts. It just so happens my family holds some land here. You four can settle down and study in peace. Next year, you can sit for the exams right here—no need to return to the Southern Dynasty.”
At those words, the four companions were instantly stirred with emotion.
“Brother Chongwen, so generous, so magnanimous.” “That’s right! Back home we had a scholar known as ‘When urgency strikes, there’s always Scholar Lu,’ but I daresay even he can’t match Brother Chongwen’s generosity and hospitality.”
“That Scholar Lu merely aided in times of need. Brother Chongwen, however, is like a bubbling spring, quenching our thirst!”
Their barrage of praise made Wang Chongwen wave his hands repeatedly: “Unworthy of such praise!”—though his face was split with a grin he could barely contain.
At that moment, the scholar carrying the lantern suddenly spotted a stall by the roadside ahead. Thinking it to be a noodle or dog-meat night vendor, he moved closer, only to realize—it was selling calligraphy and paintings.
“Brothers, look over there—someone’s selling artwork!”
“Haha! Perfect, let’s go have a look.”
Buoyed by their flattery, Wang Chongwen was feeling quite elated. With sleeves swaying and gait unsteady, he sauntered over toward the stall. Sure enough, it was a makeshift display rack, strung with paintings—savage beasts, birds in forested mountains, and several blank scrolls.
But what caught his eye most was the striking painting of a beauty swinging amidst autumn—his eyes lit up, and he couldn’t help but raise a thumb in praise.
“Well painted! But selling paintings at night? You’ll hardly find any buyers at this hour.”
Behind the long table, Lu Liangsheng saw that business had come to him, so he cupped his hands and said: “A pleasure to receive you five gentlemen—feel free to browse. If nothing pleases you, I can paint something on the spot.”
His gaze swept over the five men. When his eyes passed over the four scholars, the corners of his mouth curled up in a smile—he more or less recognized who they were.
But that day it had been raining, mist shrouding the view, and everyone was under umbrellas. Those four scholars only found Lu Liangsheng vaguely familiar, unable to recognize him as the fellow traveler they had shared the ferry with.
One among them, however, happened to spot the mangy-tailed donkey not far off.
“That donkey… I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere.”
In front of the stall, Wang Chongwen had been staring at the painting of Honglian for some time. He turned his head and asked:
“How much for this painting?”
“This one’s not for sale—can’t sell it.”
Lu Liangsheng noticed the scholar’s confusion and waved his hand, lowering his voice as he took the scroll down. “It’s just to draw in customers.”
Hearing that, Wang Chongwen’s doubts were dispelled. He didn’t insist on buying it, and as he looked over the youth before him—dressed in a tattered, dusty scholar’s robe—he couldn’t help but ask:
“Judging by your fine brushwork and excellent painting, has your family fallen on hard times, forcing you to sell your work on the streets? Why not come stay at my residence instead, and prepare properly for the exams?”
Lu Liangsheng put away the scroll with a smile and politely declined.
“That won’t be necessary. Please, pick another one.”
“Very well. Still, if you want to restore your household’s fortune, the imperial exams are the way to go.” Wang Chongwen didn’t press further. He skipped past a painting of a savage beast with a twisted, menacing face, and instead selected a scroll of birds returning to the forest.
“How much for this one?”
“Sixty-two wen.”
That was exactly the price of a meal and one night’s lodging at the inn across the way. But at that, the four scholars behind him began to clamor.
“This painting of yours is way too expensive!” “Brother Chongwen, I say forget it.”
“This scholar’s gone mad from poverty.”
Lu Liangsheng didn’t bother arguing. His gaze remained fixed on Wang Chongwen. Upon the man’s forehead, something unseen by ordinary folk stirred—a wisp of black mist coiled faintly. From the art of reading qi as recorded in [Emerald Heart Dream Nourishment], this was an omen—an early sign of looming misfortune.
“This brother—if you like it, then take it home. Whether it’s worth the price, you’ll know in time.”
“Mystical nonsense. We are scholars—how could we believe in such things…”
The four scholars still wanted to argue, but Wang Chongwen raised a hand to stop them. From within his sleeve, he pulled out a money pouch and, without counting too carefully, placed some coins on the table, then took the scroll into his hands.
“This one, then. Farewell.”
Lu Liangsheng watched the five men walk off, picked up the string of copper coins from the table, and weighed them in his hand. Then he paused for a moment.
“Seventy wen?”
He glanced at the figures already disappearing down the end of the street and laughed.
“Receiving an extra bit of kindness means one must return that good karma. Ah, Master, let’s get ourselves something decent to eat!”
Under the table, Toad Daoist glanced at the string of coins in his hand, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Your Master’s already finished the biscuit, and now you bring it up?”
Hiccup~~
Woof woof woof!
Woof woof!
The alleyway was dim, dogs barking faintly in the distance. The five, carrying their lantern, turned a corner. The surroundings grew more desolate.
“Brother Chongwen, that guy was clearly putting on a show.” “Exactly. That painting was ridiculously overpriced—pure daylight robbery.”
“How about we go back and return it?”
Wang Chongwen waved his hand casually, walking in the center of the four as he looked ahead.
“A scholar willing to set aside his pride to sell paintings on the street—he must be in dire straits. We are all scholars—lending a hand when we can is only right.”
At once, the four cupped their hands in respect.
“Brother Chongwen speaks true.” “Such compassion—truly an example to us all!”
Cold moonlight washed over the street, a thin mist clinging low. Dog barks echoed faintly from somewhere in the distance. Up ahead, in the direction the five were headed, a solitary figure was staggering toward them—slender, clutching a bundle, stumbling as she ran.
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