Chapter 11: Chance Encounters Part 2

His future home might resemble his parents’. His father was a local squire, his mother a capable homemaker from a prestigious family.

The Xiang Family had initially wanted to groom him properly as the most special branch. Though his father hadn’t studied spells or martial arts in his youth, he guarded the ancient divine weapon Shanhai. Legend held that Shanhai and Mingguang were the key weapons to subdue the Heavenly Demon.

Shanhai was the Wisdom Sword in his hand; Mingguang was the Heart Lamp.

When Master Shen Kuo arrived at the Xiang Family, he told his parents that Xiang Xian was fated for late marriage and possessed a Pure Yang Body, destined to inherit the Wisdom Sword and pursue cultivation. Thus, Shen Kuo took the young boy wandering the world. Upon return, Xiang Xian had mastered his skills, and the family no longer pressed his marriage.

Xiang Xian had always been curious about his master’s words on “fated marriage,” but even until Shen Kuo’s passing, he never revealed who it was. Only when asking Shuhu about the Heavenly Mandate did Xiang Xian remember, receiving quite a shock.

“I absolutely won’t fall in love with that guy named Xiao Kun,” Xiang Xian muttered to himself as he drifted toward sleep.

“You’re still thinking about it,” A Huang returned, having circled without finding any pretty birds nearby, looking listless.

Half-asleep, Xiang Xian suddenly seemed to hear someone calling his childhood name.

“Feng’er…”

“Feng’er!”

It was Xiao Kun’s voice. For some reason, from their first meeting, Xiang Xian had felt familiarity and closeness, though Xiao Kun had appeared cold and distant.

In the dream, they stood side by side before a massive Golden Giant Wheel slowly rotating, emanating a thousand rays of golden light. Time flowed backward, and an irresistible force dragged them away from the wheel.

“Feng’er—!” Xiao Kun’s voice echoed in his ears.

Xiang Xian jolted awake, opening his eyes to howling midnight winds.

Just a dream.

The next day, the caravan stirred as usual. Everyone woke in the morning mist, stretching and yawning, washing up beside the inn, and eating breakfast. Xiang Xian downed two large bowls of noodles and continued with the group.

After entering Jiange County, the roads improved greatly. With bandit worries dispelled in Shu, Xiang Xian no longer needed to guard them. He bid farewell to the caravan outside the city. Grateful for his protection along the way, they sealed two taels of silver as reward. As he left the city, Xiang Xian gave it all to the beggars at the gate. Unburdened, he spurred his horse from Jiange toward Chengdu.

This was his second time in Chengdu. Three hundred years prior, Du Fu had written, “In the morning, I gaze where the red is wet; flowers weigh down the brocade capital.” It described Chengdu’s splendid lands. The Land of Abundance had always been rich in produce, with peaceful, prosperous people. After Zhu Wen usurped the Tang, Meng Chang established Shu here, far from the Central Plains’ wars and heavy taxes of Guanzhong—a paradise of ease.

Early winter had arrived, but the mountains blocked the southern cold wave. Chengdu’s white walls and black tiles gleamed, with the snowy West Ridge mountains in the distance.

“A mortal paradise!” Xiang Xian exclaimed unconsciously. His first visit to Chengdu had been as a child, unaware of Shenzhou’s vastness. Now, after seeing many places, he truly felt Chengdu’s abundance and joy.

He weighed the loose silver in his hand and, from childhood memory, entered the city smoothly. He first headed to Wuhou Temple in the southwest, then bought a bag of Sugar Oil Fritters.

“Little Bro!” the vendor laughed. “This silver could buy a cart of fritters! One string for a copper coin.”

Xiang Xian waved it off. Seeing the envious children around, he said, “Have some on me!”

Suddenly, Xiang Xian turned, looking as if he had seen a ghost.

“Did you see it?” Xiang Xian asked.

“See what?” the vendor asked.

Xiang Xian waved it off hurriedly. Moments later, he carried a bag of Sugar Oil Fritters northward.

“Must’ve been my eyes playing tricks,” Xiang Xian said.

“Who?” A Huang asked.

Xiang Xian: “I thought it was Xiao Kun just now?”

“You’re really hung up on him,” A Huang replied.

“No!” Xiang Xian ate four strings of fritters, feeling overly sweet, so he bought soybean milk at a stall ahead.

“He’s probably thinking of restoring Great Liao right now,” Xiang Xian said. “Dynasties rise and fall by fate. That brother has it rough too.”

A Huang often ignored Xiang Xian’s chatter; many topics didn’t suit its temperament, and it had no interest. Xiang Xian was used to talking with A Huang, with plenty of words falling on deaf ears daily.

Xiang Xian brushed the dust off his clothes and arrived at Qingyang Palace.

Built in the Zhou Dynasty, Qingyang Palace bustled with incense. Worshippers came endlessly, with two bronze green goats at the front and a great tree hung with red ropes of wishes.

Today, few people were inside. Offerings lay scattered in the front hall, as if monkeys had ransacked it. Several Taoists bent to clean and replace them.

Xiang Xian felt puzzled but entered the Doumu Hall, tossing his last bits of loose silver into the merit box with a prolonged clink. He infused a bit of Spiritual Qi into the silver. The surrounding incense candles sensed the True Fire Power; their flames leaped three inches high, blazing fiercely.

“Benefactor, this way please.” A Taoist hurried over to guide him.

Xiang Xian cupped his fists casually and followed through the rear palace to a secluded bamboo grove. Amid the grove sat a secluded courtyard, flanked by two smaller bronze goats at the gate. A plaque hung above, bearing a true inscription from Wuhou Kongming nearly a thousand years old:

Great Han Demon-Exorcism Division.

“Baa—Bianjing Demon-Exorcising Envoy Xiang Xian has arrived!” one bronze goat announced.

“Is he here to cause trouble?” the other said.

“You Lu Ban creations,” Xiang Xian said exasperatedly, “why so talkative!”

“Second one today!” the goat added.

Xiang Xian: “?”

Sensing something amiss, Xiang Xian noted a female disciple emerging to greet him. “Lord Xiang, long time no see.”