Chapter 64: A Deadly Gamble

The two men seemed to have toured the entirety of the Central Plains: dust-covered their travel-worn attires from head to toe.

The Great Shaman wasted no breath on banalities upon their reuniting, he went straight to check on Zhou Zishu. Out of reflex, Zhou Zishu raised his arm to present his pulse. Only mid-movement did he remember that his left wrist was momentarily unfit to be seen. He quietly retrieved his hand and switched to his other.

The Great Shaman took a glance. "Did you injure your wrist?" he asked offhandedly. "Oh, it's nothing. A dog's bite," Zhou Zishu replied in an even tone.

The wrist's artery was a vital point anyone practicing martial arts knew to guard. An earnest man, the Great Shaman started. As he reached out to place his fingers on Zhou Zishu's pulse, he asked in wonder, "What breed of dog is so fearsome it managed to bite you?"

Zhou Zishu kept mum. Wen Kexing, who'd been listening to the side in silence, suddenly stretched out his arm.

"You're such a petty man," the guy said, pressing his wrist near Zhou Zishu's mouth. "Because of so tiny a matter, you haven't let me into your room for three days. Here. Go on, bite me back."

Lord Seventh had just sat down. He choked on his mouthful of tea. Gu Xiang covered her face with both hands and whipped around, pretending she had seen and heard nothing.

Zhou Zishu's eyelid twitched once. He batted away Wen Kexing's hand and said, face impassive, "We're in public. Have some shame, will you?"

Wen Kexing chuckled, but it sounded half-hearted like he had no energy left for banter. Instead, he focused his attention on the Great Shaman whom he eyed without blinking — as if a plant was growing on the man's face.

After a while, the Great Shaman released Zhou Zishu's wrist.

"So? How is he?" Wen Kexing asked at once.

The Great Shaman hesitated for a moment.

"It's worse than I had predicted," he answered bluntly. "Lord Zhou, have you by any chance suffered other injuries lately?"

Zhou Zishu retrieved his arm and straightened his sleeve. Dropping his gaze, he gave a nonchalant smile. "What man who errs in jianghu does not suffer a knife or two?"

Nanjiang-born, the Great Shaman's features differed in subtle ways from those of Central Plains folks. His eyes were inordinately deep-set which made his irises seem blacker than normal. For a while, he scrutinized Zhou Zishu in silence. Then, he appeared to divine something.

"Lord Zhou, if I weren't confident to a degree," he said. "I wouldn't have come only to aggrieve you further. Please rest assured of that fact."

Zhou Zishu looked up and forced a smile.

"If it's anything which entails crippling me of my skills..."

As he spoke, the vulnerability of a man who could barely keep it together flashed across Zhou Zishu's features. The expression vanished within a split second, leaving onlookers doubting having seen anything at all.

The Great Shaman saw it clearly, though. He nodded.

"We won't be discussing such measures again. I have a way that can preserve both your life and your kung-fu." Wen Kexing jolted upright. He was about to say something when Zhou Zishu cut in:

"A way that can preserve both my life and my skills... What other price, then, will I have to pay?"

The man's face had become a mask on which no emotion could be read. His gaze sharpened and he appeared wary to the extreme. He no longer seemed to be discussing his condition with a physician or a friend, but to be in the midst of a negotiation: cautious and thorough, paying attention to every detail...

Were there ever such effortless deals in this world? As the saying went, you couldn't have both the fish and the

bear's paw1. Although, when all was said and done, Zhou Zishu's existence on Earth hadn't spanned that many years, he still understood the principle. There was no such thing as free bread dropping from the sky, and even though he could call "friends" the two men before him if he wished to flatter himself; and even though he knew about the Great Shaman's skills as a practitioner; he still couldn't let himself believe so easily.

Because... this thing called hope could hurt.

Lord Seventh set aside his teacup quietly.

"We've been to many places in half the year since..." he said. "You would know about the Shamans' Valley's influence since you helped establish it: that no medicine exists on earth which it cannot procure goes without saying. The thing is, those particular ingredients we sought were most rare. Still, we have now reunited them all."

As Lord Seventh spoke, the Great Shaman fished out a small bottle from his own robes. Zhou Zishu took it and opened the cap. Tiny pills filled the vial to the brim; they wafted a bitter scent of medication.

"Keep this medicine with you," the Great Shaman said. "Take it at midnight every day. It will help you inhibit the effect of the Nails when they flare up, and also gradually neutralize their poison."

"Even though the poison is troublesome, it is but a minor issue," Lord Seventh continued. "The crux of the problem resides in the Nails occluding your meridians. If we were to extract the former too brusquely, your neigong would rupture the latter. And since you do not wish to lose your abilities, treating you would take a great deal of effort while also, I'm afraid to say, bringing about a terrible ordeal to endure. However..." Lord Seventh smiled as he cast a glance at Zhou Zishu. "If others may not survive it, I rather think that you, my friend, may give it a

try."2

"We will need a master of great skill," the Great Shaman carried on, "who can under all the meridians in your body in one go — Something you may also accomplish by yourself if you so chose."

Gu Xiang, Cao Weining, and Zhang Chengling listened on from the side, aghast.

"Did you say... sun... sunder... all the meridians in his body?" Gu Xiang mumbled. "Won't he be dead then?"

The Great Shaman looked up at her. He didn't deny it.

"It's a possibility. But Lord Zhou's martial abilities run deep, and I don't believe he would die there and then. In the meantime, as long as someone sustains his heartbeat..."

"Do you propose," Wen Kexing cut in, "to reconstruct all his meridians?" The Great Shaman nodded.

Wen Kexing's eyes shone.

"Can you do it?"

The Great Shaman paused. As per his habit, he spoke with caution and didn't make overly confident claims.

"Based on my operating skills alone, the chance for a positive outcome is about thirty percent. But we would still have to account for... whether Lord Zhou can withstand it."

"Thirty percent..." Wen Kexing's brow knitted. "Only thirty percent?"

The Great Shaman nodded. "Pray to forgive my limited talents."

For his part, Zhou Zishu laughed, and all traces of glumness swept from his face.

"Good enough. Thirty percent is quite good enough! Had it been a ten percent chance, I'd still have taken on the gamble. I've got nothing to lose anyway, have I?"

He collected the small bottle of medicine and solemnly cupped his fist to Lord Seventh and the Great Shaman. "Many thanks."

The Great Shaman made no big display; he merely gave a brief nod. As if he had just gifted someone two steamed buns instead of a vial of life-saving remedy.

Lord Seventh, however, chuckled.

"What are you thanking us for? Wu Xi is quite the silly boy, you see. I'm afraid if you hadn't let him repay the favor we owe you from all those years back, he wouldn't have got a wink of peace for the rest of his life."

The Great Shaman threw the man a glance but didn't protest.

"Reconstructing meridians is no small feat," he carried on. "I will need a place of extreme cold to proceed. It may leave you with a sensitivity to the chill in the future. But as you recover your kung-fu, that may be treated as well, and it shouldn't be a major obstacle."

Wen Kexing pondered for a moment.

"What's your opinion on the peak of Everbright Mountain?" he asked.

Everbright Mountain was a realm of legend. Inhabited by the Immortals and the Ancient Monk, misty clouds curled around the middle of its elevation whilst eternal snow shrouded its peak.

The Great Shaman thought it over before nodding. "I wouldn't think it'd be unfeasible."

"How fortunate then," Wen Kexing said. "That old glutton owes me so many meals I stopped counting. We'll just go to his decrepit nest and ask him to feed us for a change — Gu Xiang?"

"Uh-huh?" Gu Xiang uttered.

"I have an errand for you," Wen Kexing said. "Go find Ye Baiyi for me, and I'll make sure the chests of your dowry line up two streets worth. What do you say?"

"Three streets," Gu Xiang haggled.

Wen Kexing swatted her on the head. "Two and a half, all right? Stop taking advantage when you already got a sweet bargain. Go on, get lost!"

Gu Xiang rubbed her head. She grabbed Cao Weining and headed toward their room to pack. Wen Kexing yanked Cao Weining back.

"Don't you listen to her? Packing isn't the job of a grown man, else you'll spoil her till she forgets all manners. Come with me. And you, kiddo, stop lazing around. You've been lax with your practice for quite a few days now. What are you waiting for? For your Shifu to scold you again? Shoo! A-Xu, you carry on with our guests."

With that, the guy hauled Cao Weining out. Thereupon, Zhang Chengling was quick to read the atmosphere as well. He took one glance at his shifu, saw the glint in the man's eyes take a turn for the evil, and skedaddled with his tails between his legs. In a blink, the room quieted down as only Zhou Zishu, Lord Seventh, and the Great Shaman was left in it.

Lord Seventh gazed at Wen Kexing's retreating silhouette.

"That... jianghu friend of yours..." he said all of a sudden. "He seems to be a complex character, doesn't he? Have you been journeying with him all this time?"

Zhou Zishu started, though he denied nothing. He merely looked up at Lord Seventh, wondering what the man meant by asking such a question out of the blue. Lord Seventh, however, only smiled.

"Although, he seemed to treat you quite well. Besides... I've never seen you so taken with someone before. Well, it's rather nice, actually."

Outside, Zhang Chengling recited his mnemonic rhymes in the small courtyard while he practiced his stances rather like an automaton. In effect, with all the people who had arrived, and all the things that had happened, the teenager couldn't help but feel distracted. He too wanted to go with Gu Xiang and Cao Weining, to search for Ye Baiyi.

Indeed, even though he was slower on the uptake than most kids, Zhang Chengling was proving not to be stupid.

After Zhou Zishu had listened to the boy's explanation about the Granny Black-Bane incident, he didn't punish him further than with an additional two hours of practice every day. Zhang Chengling had acted rashly but had also shown his potential. It was in fact rather remarkable that after having gone through so much, seen so much cruelty, the boy still conserved within his heart something which remained pure: he never tried to hide his cowardice, but when it was time to be brave, he also never disappointed.

In any case, Zhou Zishu had always thought that for a boy to grow up without a few scars only meant they'd forever remain a useless person tucked under someone else's wing — however smoothly their life went.

Zhang Chengling also had time to do his thinking. He reflected that he couldn't rely on his shifu forever. Zhou Zishu had taught him kung-fu like farmers force-feed ducks, and he had memorized everything by heart. But there were still many things he didn't understand. And even if his shifu broke those things down into yet smaller pieces for him to chew on, he still wouldn't understand them. What he needed was practical experience.

And now, whilst his Shifu injury was at its most critical stage, Zhang Chengling felt he could no longer aimlessly stay by his side. He had to venture outside, and do something in return.

As his ruminations took over, Zhang Chengling messed up his stances.

Wen Kexing watched the boy from a distance but said nothing. His mind was a mess.

The chance of a positive outcome was only thirty percent. He had missed death by the breadth of a hair countless times in his life, and a thirty percent probability of survival was nothing to sneeze at, but this time... it concerned A-Xu.

Wen Kexing shook out of it only when Cao Weining addressed him.

Cao Weining cautiously looked at Wen Kexing and waited for his words. Gu Xiang said the man had raised her, and a momentous sense of respect laced with fear seized Cao Weining — rather like any young man about to face

"Old Mount Tai"3.

"Brother Wen," he simpered. "Was there anything you needed..."

Wen Kexing threw him a glance, looking at a loss where to begin. It took another good while before he spoke.

"I... was only a few years over ten, and a half-grown lad myself, when I picked up Gu Xiang from the street," he began. "I knew her mom and dad. They had died. And she was so small, I found her wrapped in swaddling clothes where her mom had hidden her. You see, she lucked out life only because of oversight from her parent's foes."

Cao Weining didn't dare take a heavier breath. His expression was near religious as he listened.

"She isn't really my servant..." Wen Kexing went on. "Although she calls me master, I never thought of the girl as anything other than family — she is like a little sister to me."

He paused. Chuckling, he added, "Or — if I were to claim seniority, and since I watched her grow up — you could say she is like my daughter... The place we lived when we were children was sordid. Unfit for humans to dwell in. And since I was still a kid myself, raising her has been quite a bumpy road. For instance, the first time I tried to feed her porridge, I burned her mouth badly. So, you see, if keeping Gu Xiang alive until this day wasn't easy for me, the truth is... it hasn't been easy on her either."

Cao Weining got the gist of what the man was getting at.

"Brother Wen, you can rest assured," he said in a solemn voice. "All my life, from this moment onwards, and until I die, not a single day, not a single second shall pass during which I won't endeavor to never let Gu Xiang down."

Wen Kexing glanced at him, the ghost of a smile curling his lips.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

Cao Weining raised a hand toward the sky and swore, "The Heavens and the Earth are my witnesses!"

Afraid Wen Kexing still wouldn't believe him, and sheer panic rising within, Eminent Scholar Cao then declaimed a line that, for once in his life, was quite wrong as his usual, yet didn't invite mockery:

"The skies and earth are bound by the end of time, but my enduring love knows no closing date!"4 Wen Kexing eyed the young man, his expression strange.

"Even if she turns out not to be who you imagined her to be?" he asked. "Even if... you discovered one day you don't know her, after all?"

"Don't worry. I know her," Cao Weining said.

Wen Kexing laughed. He picked up a pebble and threw it in Zhang Chengling's direction. "Kiddo," he yelled. "What are you daydreaming about? Focus!"

Don't worry, I know her — A-Xiang, you've been worrying unduly.

1. idiom translated literally. Similar to "you can't have a cake and eat it too" but slightly different. Originates from Mencius (4th century BC) who reportedly once had to choose between eating a fish or a bear's paws (bears were just another type of game back then), and subsequently wrote a whole book about how to make that decision (he chose the bear's paws). The emphasis in the Chinese idiom is on a choice having to be made rather than the impossibility of having both.

2. Note that you'll rarely see painkillers used in Chinese historical fantasy. Both because non-fictional TMC, outside of acupuncture, never developed the domain much (suppressing pain instead of suppressing the cause of the pain goes against TMC's core philosophy), and because of fictional conventions (agony is more dramatic than popping in two pills and waking up slightly woozy a few hours later). IRL, analgesics as developed by western medicine led to amongst other things, more effective wars.

3. Euphemism for a father-in-law. Note that although a son-in-law is expected to call his wife's parents "mother" and "father", the son-in-law has little obligation towards the wife's parents if the couple doesn't live at their house. Also, note here that despite WKX commenting about Gu Xiang being improper for a girl, what the text conveys is a deep affection between them. I have a soft spot for them: I can imagine WKX picking up baby Gu Xiang from rubbles as a kid, and keeping her for no other reason than he may have felt quite alone. The fact that he says she isn't her servant toes the line between him being a generous "boss" and him being sincere: a daughter in a household would be expected to take care of domestic shores if no other servants are present.

4. Variation on "The skies and earth are bound by the end of time, but my enduring regret knows no closing time". From "Song of Everlasting Regret", a poem by Bai Juyi. About the doomed love affair between Consort Yang and Emperor Xuanzong.