Chapter Ten: Return to the Heavens

Xu Laodao’s intentions were perfectly clear to Xu Yuan, but he chose not to mention them. He recalled how, when they first met, they had played chess together for an entire day, and Xu Yuan could barely claim a single victory. The second time he visited, their matches had already become evenly matched, fiercely contested. After that…

Xu Laodao rarely won anymore, but he was never willing to concede. His temper, as always, was fiery; the more he lost, the more he insisted on another game, and he refused to accept any handicap from Xu Yuan. The result was as predictable as ever.

“Time to eat!” Achou approached carrying two steaming bowls of rice porridge, placing one before Xu Laodao and the other in front of Xu Yuan.

“There are also freshly steamed cornbread buns and pickled vegetables. Once we skin the deer, we can have a stew for lunch and roast meat for dinner, heh heh.” Achou moved quickly, barely pausing at all. As soon as the bowls were set down, he hurried back to the kitchen for more.

“What, do you have no legs? Go help out!” Xu Laodao glared at Aguai, chiding him with thinly veiled anger.

“Huh?” Aguai was taken aback.

Born with a clubfoot, Aguai was half disabled; aside from tending the meager patch of land at the temple entrance, most errands fell to Achou alone. Now that Xu Laodao had grown old and frail, Aguai was left to watch the house during hunts. Achou usually handled the rest. Why, then, was Master scolding him today?

“No need, no need, I can manage. Aguai’s leg isn’t convenient,” Achou responded, carrying another two bowls of porridge to the stone table.

“So what if it’s inconvenient? Is he going to rely on you for the rest of his life? Chopping wood, fetching water, cooking, laundry, gathering herbs, hunting, setting traps—will he expect others to help with all of it? Is he a lord or a noble? Starting tomorrow, he’ll do his own work. Achou, you’re not to help him anymore,” Xu Laodao’s tone suddenly turned stern.

“Ah…” Achou, not understanding why his master had grown so strict, nodded blankly.

“All right, all right. Achou is a good, honest kid. Why be so harsh with him?” Xu Yuan waved a hand.

“Ugly but kind-hearted—just the sort to be bullied.” Xu Laodao curled his lip, picked up the steaming rice broth, and drank deeply, unbothered by the heat.

He was old now, and likely wouldn’t be able to look after this place much longer. Life in the mountains was especially harsh. When he was gone, with no one to enforce discipline, who knew if the temple would endure? All the skills he possessed had already been passed on to these two disciples. The rest of the journey, they would have to walk on their own; there was no relying on others.

Aguai, who had just sat down, dared not idle any longer. He hurried after Achou to fetch the pickles and cornbread. Breakfast was simple: the cornbread was not made of fine flour, but mixed with bran and chaff, coarse enough to scratch the throat when eaten plain. A bite of cornbread, a bit of pickles, a sip of rice soup—alternating thus was cleansing and nourishing.

After breakfast, Aguai quickly gathered up the bowls to wash, afraid his master might start scolding again. Achou, meanwhile, took out his knives and set off to process the deer.

“Up for another game?” With nothing else to do, Xu Yuan asked casually.

“Who’s afraid of you? Bring it on!” Xu Laodao rolled up his sleeves. “If I don’t put you in your place, you’ll start looking down on me!”

They resumed their chess match, setting up a new board as before. Xu Laodao played black and moved first. First game—he lost. Second game—lost again. Third game—still lost. By the fourth, sweat was beading on Xu Laodao’s brow as he stared intently at the board, the chess piece in his hand hovering, his gaunt features taut with concentration. Xu Yuan, by contrast, remained calm and unruffled.

Chess required both mental and physical stamina. Xu Laodao was no longer young; he couldn’t manage marathon sessions like in the old days. All the more so since Xu Yuan had spent years contemplating the art of chess in the heavens, his skill deepening immeasurably. Now, playing against him was a vastly different ordeal.

After much deliberation, Xu Laodao finally made a daring move, deciding to take a risk. This scoundrel’s skills had grown too profound; playing by the book would never win a match. Only by setting a cunning trap and sacrificing the small for the great could he hope for a chance.

“Don’t notice, don’t notice…” Sweat trickled into his eyes as Xu Laodao silently prayed. Perhaps the heavens heard him: Xu Yuan didn’t notice, and chased the opening he’d deliberately left.

Xu Laodao’s heart leapt; he grew ever more cautious, advancing step by step. By the time Xu Yuan realized the trap, it was too late. Xu Laodao gave his all, battling fiercely at the breach, black and white pieces crisscrossing the board.

At last, with one more piece placed, a look of triumph appeared on Xu Laodao’s face. Sure enough, this time it was Xu Yuan who hesitated, unable to decide on his next move.

“Well, how about that?” Xu Laodao’s brows shot up, his face full of challenge.

Xu Yuan glanced at him, grumbling, “All right, you got me.” With that, he tossed his piece aside in surrender.

“Hahaha! You’ve got a long way to go!” Xu Laodao made no mention of his earlier defeats, basking in victory.

He was about to press his advantage further when Achou arrived carrying a pot, calling out, “Master, time for lunch!”

“Huh?” Xu Laodao was surprised. Had they really been playing so long? Only now, emerging from the game, did he feel the depth of his exhaustion and hunger.

Lunch was venison and deer blood stewed with cabbage and vermicelli, a dish both hearty and delicious. Though old, Xu Laodao’s appetite was roused by victory, and he ate an extra large bowl. But after eating, he could no longer suppress his fatigue and retired for a midday nap.

Achou and Aguai, being young, had no need for such rest. “Shall we play Five-in-a-Row or cards? Mahjong’s no fun with only three,” Xu Yuan asked.

He had long since taught them all these games, so that when he visited, the four of them could make up a table. As for Go? Even Xu Laodao was no longer his match, so his disciples stood no chance.

“Let’s play cards!” Aguai rubbed his hands, while Achou ran inside to fetch the wooden tiles.

When Xu Laodao awoke from his nap, dusk was already settling outside. Emerging from his room, he saw Achou roasting a deer leg over the fire, the savory aroma wafting through the air. By the stone table, Xu Yuan and Aguai were playing Five-in-a-Row.

“How long did I sleep?” Xu Laodao scratched his tousled, yellowed hair.

“All afternoon,” Xu Yuan replied, glancing over without elaboration.

“That long?” Xu Laodao muttered, feeling a chill in his body. He sat by the fire, the flames flickering over his gaunt face.

They ate roast meat together, and by the time they finished, the sun was nearly set behind the western hills.

“I’m leaving,” Xu Yuan said, brushing the grease from his hands and rising from the fire.

Neither Xu Laodao nor Aguai tried to persuade him to stay. Xu Yuan never spent the night here; asking would be pointless. Only the honest Achou, as always, spoke up, “Mr. Xu, it’s nearly dark. Why not stay the night with us? I’ll sleep on the floor.”

There were three rooms in the temple: one was the kitchen, another Xu Laodao’s quarters, and the last for the two disciples.

“No need. I have to get back,” Xu Yuan replied, glancing at the sky, his expression tinged with a hint of melancholy.

At the temple gate, Xu Yuan turned back and called, “Old man, let’s play again next time.”

“Hmph, you’ll never beat me,” Xu Laodao declared, his head held high with confidence.

This time, Xu Yuan didn’t banter. He simply waved, saying, “Farewell.”

With those words, Xu Yuan set off down the mountain.

The sun slipped lower, the last rays of daylight wavering in the sky. As Xu Yuan descended, his figure grew indistinct, like a flame about to flicker out.

The sun set. Night fell.

Xu Yuan’s figure vanished without a trace, leaving only a single falling peach blossom petal.

His consciousness returned to the heavens.