Chapter 980 - 819: The Path Walked

Chen Ji pushed open the brown courtyard gate. The small yard inside was spotlessly clean; split firewood was stacked under the eaves in the corner, and the water vat was filled to the brim.

But Chen Ji suddenly froze on the spot, not stepping into the yard for a long while. Behind him, Yuan Xing asked curiously, "What’s wrong, foster father, is someone inside?"

Wu Yun meowed once in Chen Ji’s arms. "It’s exactly the same as the house in Shaojiu Alley."

Yes—this familiar feeling was precisely why Chen Ji had halted. The stone table and stone stools in the yard, the main room, the West Wing Room, the East Wing Room, and the side room were all identical, as if someone had moved the house from Shaojiu Alley here to Jinling.

He stepped over the threshold and walked up to the main room door, pushing it open a crack with both hands. On the table in the center of the hall, a spirit tablet stood upright and properly placed: Spirit tablet of the late Daming Jingxian King Zhu Youxiao.

The tablet had been wiped spotlessly clean. The incense burner was packed with ash, and sticks of incense and fire inch lay beside the table.

For a moment Chen Ji felt a bit dazed. He had never imagined that the next time he saw the two characters "Prince Jing" would be here, in Feng Daban’s house.

From inside the house one could still faintly hear the songs from the painting boats on the Qinhuai River. One after another the painting boats passed Quanfu Alley in a line, each boat singing a different tune.

He was silent for a moment, then lit three sticks of incense and placed them in the incense burner. Only then did he turn to look at Yuan Xing and the others behind him. "Go knock on the door of the sundry shop on the neighboring street and buy some bedding. We’ll sleep on the floor here tonight. Also buy some wine and dishes, and we’ll eat together later. Remember, don’t rummage through anything in the house. We’re only lodging here for the night."

Yuan Xing answered, then pulled Jiang Chai and the others and ran out in high spirits.

A short while later, Chen Ji walked to the courtyard gate and stuck his head out, only to see the four of them squatting side by side on the bluestone embankment of the Qinhuai River, staring, utterly absorbed, at the painting boats passing back and forth.

He urged them, "Go on, quickly!"

Startled by his words, Yuan Xing and the others scrambled to their feet and dashed off.

Chen Ji went into the kitchen, sat on a small bench, stuffed straw into the stove, and lit it, feeding in thin kindling bit by bit.

Zhang Li leaned against the kitchen doorframe, both hands tucked into the sleeves of his Daoist robe, asking offhandedly, testing the waters: "Uh... you rushed back from Dinghai Port? Is everything over at Dinghai Port settled?"

Chen Ji stared at the firebox without turning his head. "Daoist, why ask what you already know? Didn’t you see it all in the book?"

Zhang Li gave an awkward laugh. "So you guessed?"

Chen Ji grabbed another handful of straw, folded it, and stuffed it into the firebox. "I guessed the moment you called me Jiu Jin. Back at the City God Temple in the Imperial Capital, when you had me write my name in the Wordless Heavenly Scripture, I was puzzled. Turns out it was for this."

Zhang Li coughed lightly. "You’re not worried?"

Chen Ji said casually, "Back then you were especially solemn when you asked me to write my name, so that thing must be very important to you, right? You and I are one in honor now; there’s nothing to worry about."

Zhang Li corrected him. "I mean, aren’t you afraid I’ll see through all your secrets?"

Chen Ji stood up and patted the bits of straw from his clothes. "I’m not the only one who can see my secrets. I walk upright and sit straight—I’m not afraid of being seen."

Zhang Li sighed. "You really are open-hearted. No wonder everyone else can’t tolerate that little monk Rochusaga, yet you can."

Chen Ji stood up, scooped a bucket of water, and poured it into the pot, then rinsed some rice.

As he was washing the rice, he suddenly raised his head and asked, "Daoist, you once said the Wordless Heavenly Scripture might help me become a saint. What did you mean by that?"

Zhang Li thought for a moment, then shook his head. "This matter cannot be spoken of, and you must not harbor any utilitarian intent. Just act according to your own heart. Besides, I merely pieced it together by reading the lives of the Supreme Sage and the Taoist Ancestor, thinking it through on my own. It doesn’t really count. Just assume I was talking nonsense before."

Chen Ji tipped the rice into the pot and wiped his hands on his hem. "All right, then I won’t ask."

Zhang Li teased, "You’re downright carefree. Anyone else, given a chance to become a saint, would probably grill me until they broke the pot."

Chen Ji said calmly, "I know how my own path should be walked, so there’s no need to dwell too much on other people’s paths."

Just then, Old Ears shuffled up to the kitchen door and asked curiously, "What are you two lads muttering about?"

Zhang Li changed the subject and asked, "You’re in such a hurry to get back to Jinling—do you have some major affair to attend to again?"

Old Ears jerked his chin toward Chen Ji. "You’ll have to ask him. This old fellow is just here to watch the fun."

Chen Ji thought for a moment and answered, "No major affair, just two small matters to handle in Jinling."

Old Ears arched his brows. "If it’s only small matters, then don’t linger in Jinling. Come with me to Huangshan Mountain. This old fellow has never seen what a Universal Sacrifice looks like in all his life."

Before Chen Ji could reply, Zhang Li’s expression changed first. "What are you going to Huangshan Mountain for? The appointed time hasn’t come yet."

Old Ears snorted. "I never said I was going there to do anything in particular. What are you getting jumpy about, boy? Besides, back then it was only because I saw your master injured that I allowed him to go back and recuperate. I never agreed to any time you lot set; that was all your wishful thinking. Now that your master can preside over the Universal Sacrifice, his wounds must be healed."

Zhang Li hurriedly said, "No, no, not at all. Master was still coughing blood a while ago, his lungs practically about to come out."

Old Ears snapped, "Go roll off to the side. When have I ever harmed his lungs? And you, a guy kicked out of your sect, what are you worrying about? Your master’s brain was kicked bad by a donkey from the Forty-nine Heavens—if the donkey up there tells him to go east, he wouldn’t dare go west. I don’t even know what he’s still living for."

This time, Zhang Li didn’t argue back, just lowered his head and stayed silent.

Old Ears turned his head to look at Chen Ji, puzzled. "Kid, what exactly did you come to Jinling to do?"

Chen Ji didn’t answer either, just went off to cook by himself.

...

...

The next morning, the sound of a rooster crowing rang out.

Chen Ji lay on the edge of his straw mat and opened his eyes. He hadn’t heard a rooster crow in a long time; hearing it again, he actually felt a kind of closeness. Somehow, just being able to lie inside a room and quietly listen to a rooster crow made the days feel solid and real.

In the main room, snores rose and fell, with muttered dreams slipping out now and then. For a moment, Chen Ji seemed to be back in Taiping Medical Hall, surrounded by his senior brothers’ snores—and an old man who was never very proper.

He turned his head toward the Five Tigers’ side, just in time to see Zhang Li next door, using his arm as a pillow and staring straight at him.

Chen Ji said testily, "What are you looking at me for?"

Zhang Li’s eyes were bright and intent. "This poor Daoist is trying to guess what you intend by coming back to Jinling. Are you going to turn Jinling upside down too?"

Chen Ji got up and put on his clothes. "You misunderstand, Daoist. I only mean to find Silver for the court and push new policies. It’s not that I have to throw everyone’s lives into chaos to feel satisfied."

He walked out into the yard. Zhaolei was standing in the middle of the courtyard dozing off, and Wu Yun was huddled in its mane on top of its head, napping along with it. Off to the side, the Big Green Ox was eyeing Zhaolei with shifty brows, wanting to get close but afraid of being kicked.

Wu Yun saw him come out and lifted one eyelid to look at him. Chen Ji smiled. "Sleep a bit more. I can go out on my own."

Wu Yun closed his eyes again.

Chen Ji went out alone. Zhang Li hurried after him, pulling on his clothes as he followed him through Quanfu Alley. "What are you going to do so early in the morning?"

Chen Ji didn’t answer, just pulled out a few neatly cut copies of Wuxiang Morning News from his breast and flipped through them.

Zhang Li leaned over curiously. "What are you looking for?"

Chen Ji turned his head to him. "The rooster-soup dumplings by the Old Drum Tower... Daoist, how do you get to the Old Drum Tower?"

Zhang Li stared at the newspaper, then looked up at Chen Ji in astonishment. "I thought you were going to do something big, and it turns out you’re looking for food? Since when were you a glutton?"

Seeing he didn’t answer, Chen Ji just turned away and walked off. Zhang Li hurriedly said, "I’ll take you... The Old Drum Tower is really far. One’s in the southeast of Jinling City, the other’s in the northwest. How about I take you to somewhere closer? Chicken-broth dumplings taste the same wherever you eat them, don’t they?"

Chen Ji pointed at the newspaper, stubborn. "We’re going to this one."

Zhang Li could only laugh and cry. "Fine, fine, we’ll go to the one in the paper."

The two of them wandered around for about an hour before they reached the base of the drum tower. Chen Ji stepped into the shop, took a look around, then lowered his head to read what was written in the paper: "The open counter is right at the entrance. A few aunties guard the boards, their fingers flying as they pinch the dumplings. Inside, wooden tables and chairs, the tabletops always wiped clean. A greedy little girl sits at a wooden table craning her neck in anticipation—she can eat ten steamer baskets by herself, which makes the aunties stop pinching dumplings just to come over and watch..."

Chen Ji’s lips quirked slightly. He found a table and sat down. "Shopkeeper, two baskets of soup dumplings!"

The waiter brought over two steamers. "Guest, would you like anything else?"

Chen Ji drew a pair of chopsticks from the bamboo tube and rubbed them together. "No need, just the dumplings."

After he finished eating, Chen Ji put down his chopsticks and flipped through another stack of morning papers, then asked Zhang Li, "Daoist, how do you get to Qi Jia Bay?"

Zhang Li was rubbing his belly in contentment. At that, he blurted out in surprise, "Qi Jia Bay? What’s in Qi Jia Bay? Don’t tell me you’re going for beef potstickers?"

Chen Ji made a sound of agreement. "I heard the beef potstickers in Qi Jia Bay are the most famous."

Zhang Li snatched the Wuxiang Morning News from his hands and flipped through the pages one by one. Then his expression turned into shock. "Hold on—you came back to Jinling just to visit every place mentioned in this paper?"

Chen Ji was silent for a moment, then admitted honestly, "That’s only the first thing."

Zhang Li was dumbstruck. "So it really is. Do you have any idea that all of Southern Zhili is looking for you right now? After you vanished from Dinghai Port, a whole bunch of people panicked, trying to guess what you’d do next, scared the next cut would quietly land on their own necks... and you’re just here to eat your way through Jinling?"

Chen Ji corrected him, "Through the places written in the paper. And it’s not only food. I still have to go to the Confucius Temple, listen to the sound of students reading in the academy next door, then go by Sanshan Street to see the bookshops and the fruit stands lining the whole street."

Zhang Li was speechless for a long time.