Chapter 55:
Jiang Henian:
“It’s So Big, and Very Valuable.”
Dawn broke, the mist still clinging to the valley below. They descended the mountain, watching the sun rise between the peaks, their footsteps rustling the leaves, the dappled sunlight like a dotted line leading them forward, towards the peach blossom forest.
The white snake led them along a hidden path, moss-covered stones beneath their feet, through a long, dark tunnel, leaving the Chinan village behind, emerging into a world of overcast skies and low-hanging clouds, the sunlight gone, the air heavy with the threat of rain.
They walked in silence, avoiding Yangjia Village, following Zuo He’s directions, until they reached a road where an ox cart waited. Zuo He seemed to know the old man driving the cart, exchanging a few words, securing a ride to town. The old man made daily trips, and he agreed to take them along.
Zuo He, without being asked, offered his outer robe as a cushion for Chen Henian. He held his sword, and once the ox cart was moving steadily, he turned to Chen Henian. “Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?”
It was almost breakfast time. He opened the bag Zhao Cuicui had packed, revealing fried rice cakes and dough twists coated in sugar, enough to stave off hunger.
“I’m not hungry,” Chen Henian said, glancing at the food, then turning away.
Zuo He looked at Jiang Wan, who also shook her head.
“Alright,” he put the food away, a missed opportunity for conversation.
“Eat if you’re hungry,” Chen Henian said.
“I’m not hungry either,” Zuo He replied.
“Oh.” Chen Henian, finding him inexplicably strange, leaned back against the straw, closing his eyes. “I’m going to sleep. Don’t wake me.”
Zuo He nodded, putting the bag aside.
Chen Henian lay against the straw, not even flinching at the dust and dirt, his breathing even, as if instantly asleep.
Jiang Wan also closed her eyes, resting against the side of the cart.
“Sleep well, I’ll keep watch,” Zuo He said.
The ox cart rumbled along, the black ox occasionally mooing, Zuo He’s eyelids growing heavy with each turn of the wheels. After a while, the old man, hearing no sounds from behind him, turned to see all three asleep, undisturbed by the bumpy road, their exhaustion evident.
He smiled, urging the ox onward, needing to reach town before noon.
Chen Henian dreamt of endless rice paddies, figures toiling in the fields, their laughter echoing through the valley, a child running through the tall stalks, the jingling of bells, but he could only watch and listen, standing on the edge, until he woke up, the mountains behind him.
They arrived in town, and Chen Henian bought three bus tickets, reaching their destination in the afternoon.
He bought a single bun, not sharing it with the others. He was a ruthless businessman, meals not included in his employees’ wages.
But Zuo He offered to cook, claiming his skills surpassed those of the village cooks. A rare smile appeared on Chen Henian’s face. They went to the market, and Zuo He returned with a bag of groceries, mostly meat.
“You still have money,” Jiang Wan couldn’t help but comment. “Stingy even with bus fare, what a cheapskate boss.”
“Fairness is important. He has to contribute too,” Chen Henian retorted. “He cooks, you wash dishes.”
“Then what do you do?”
“I’m the boss.”
His boss status was almost short-lived. He returned to his shop, his home, only to find the door unlocked.
He glanced inside, his face expressionless, his mind racing. If it was an enemy, it meant his location was compromised, a trap. Who would come looking for him while he was in Yunan?
He had an idea. He turned to the white snake, his voice low. “Everyone working for me has to be useful. Go inside, see what’s happening. If it’s not someone we know, bite them, venomous as you are.”
“Isn’t that a bit extreme?” Zuo He asked.
“It’s self-defense. They’re trespassing,” Chen Henian replied.
The white snake slithered through the gap beneath the door, and a moment later, they heard a man’s voice, filled with excitement. “Oh, what a beautiful snake! Open your mouth, let me see your fangs.”
“Do you know him?” Jiang Wan asked, seeing the change in Chen Henian’s expression.
“Yes,” he said, his eyes narrowing, his anger palpable, and he flung the door open, the interior of the shop illuminated, a single figure inside.
Zuo He and Jiang Wan followed his gaze. A middle-aged man held the white snake, its mouth forced open, its body almost crushed in his grip.
“Zhou Xianzhi—!” Chen Henian roared, his voice laced with fury.
“Huh?” The man’s face, initially surprised, broke into a wide smile. “Xiao Niannian, you’re back!”
“You must be tired from your trip. Just two months, and you’ve lost weight!” His eyes darted around, taking in their appearance.
Jiang Wan felt a strange sensation, as if her entire ancestry had been laid bare, her secrets exposed.
So this was Zhou Xianzhi, the infamous Three Yin Hand.
The man’s long hair was tied in a low ponytail, his features sharp and angular, his expression usually stern, but now a wide smile revealed two rows of teeth, his demeanor strangely frivolous.
“So much food! We can have a feast tonight! But who’s cooking?” He eyed the bag of groceries in Zuo He’s hand, his voice playful, still holding the snake. Chen Henian’s face reddened. “Don’t you want to hug your master?”
Chen Henian scoffed, dropping his suitcase and lunging at him, his fist raised.
“Hey—stop, stop, stop—” Zhou Xianzhi yelped, genuinely afraid.
Chen Henian’s fist was aimed at his face, his anger fueling his strength.
“You’re going to attack your master?!” he yelled, dodging skillfully, but still receiving a glancing blow. “Show some respect! There are people watching!”
He had to take a hit, or Chen Henian wouldn’t calm down. He knew this, stopping after a single blow, Chen Henian pointing at him, his voice filled with rage. “Zhou Xianzhi! Have you no shame?!”
“And put my snake down!”
“This snake looks really good, it’s…”
“Put it down!” Chen Henian roared.
Zhou Xianzhi quickly released the snake. “Alright, alright, I’m not going to take it from you. What’s the big deal, it’s just a snake.”
He glared at Chen Henian.
The white snake, released from his grip, lay on the floor, its body limp.
“Calm down, come, come, have some tea,” Zhou Xianzhi said, gesturing towards the table.
Chen Henian frowned, seeing three cups of tea already poured. He picked one up, drinking it in one gulp, then slammed the cup on the table, his anger still simmering.
“Welcome, welcome, please sit,” Zhou Xianzhi said cheerfully. “Forgive the mess, it’s a disgrace.”
Chen Henian’s master wasn’t someone to be judged by ordinary standards. Jiang Wan and Zuo He bowed respectfully. “Greetings, Elder.”
Zhou Xianzhi stroked his beard, smiling. “My Xiao Nian made some friends on his trip! Excellent, excellent! Where are you from? This young lady looks a bit like my Xiao Nian. Are you relatives, perhaps?”
“We’re not worthy of such a connection,” Jiang Wan replied.
“Nonsense,” Zhou Xianzhi said. “What’s your name?”
“Jiang Wan,” she replied.
“Oh! That sounds familiar!” he exclaimed, then frowned, his fingers twitching as if performing a divination. He suddenly slammed his hand on the table. “You really might be related to my Xiao Nian!”
Chen Henian glared at him. “Stop pretending, just say what you want.”
Zhou Xianzhi coughed, pouring himself a cup of tea, his voice finally turning serious. “How was Yunan? Are the people there alright?”
“Who are you asking about?” Chen Henian replied.
“No one in particular,” Zhou Xianzhi smiled faintly. “Fate brings people together, and lack of fate tears them apart. It’s best to part ways amicably, to avoid unnecessary pain. But those with a strong connection, even death can’t separate them. Xiao Niannian, don’t be angry, I did this for you.”
“I searched through countless mountains, endured hardship, but you were always on my mind. The thought of you kept me going. And finally, I found something.”
Chen Henian raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”
Zhou Xianzhi lowered his voice. “I finally discovered the identity of that great ghost inside you.”
Chen Henian scoffed, not wanting to get his hopes up too soon. “Really?”
“Really,” Zhou Xianzhi confirmed.
“Then who is it?”
Zhou Xianzhi sighed, his voice slow and deliberate. “It’s a complicated story, a long time ago, starting about thirteen hundred years ago, around the time of King Wu of Jiang’s death…”
“King Wu, a wise and capable ruler, unified the Central Plains, his reign prosperous. He had two sons, the elder, born to the Queen, named Jiang Henian, designated as the Crown Prince. History books describe him as kind and virtuous, but he died young, poisoned before he could ascend the throne.”
“When he was born, King Wu consulted a diviner. The prince was frail and sickly, so the Queen had a longevity lock made for him, pure silver, engraved with the characters ‘He Nian’.”
Zhou Xianzhi gestured in front of Chen Henian’s neck. “It was this big, very valuable.”
