Chapter 5: Wen Zhixia
Just as people in their teens and twenties cannot imagine what they will look like when they grow old, always believing that youth will last forever, so too did Chen Shian think himself well accustomed to solitude while his master was still alive. It was only after his master truly departed that he realized, deep down, he still wished for someone to talk to along the way.
Curiosity about his identity as a Daoist made the talkative young girl’s questions both peculiar and intriguing. Even though her queries lacked any professional depth, Chen Shian didn’t mind chatting with her.
At some point, the black cat in his backpack awoke. Its large head poked out from the gap in the zipper, quietly listening to the two companions’ idle banter. The cat was as black as ink, its fur nearly blending with the backpack itself. Though it sat close by, the girl didn’t notice its presence at all.
It was only when her gaze happened to sweep over the Daoist’s backpack that she spotted a fuzzy black ball at the unzipped seam.
“What’s this…”
She leaned in, squinting to get a better look.
The cat raised its amber eyes, locking gazes with her.
“…Ah!”
The girl jumped in fright! Once she realized what the moving black ball was, her startled expression quickly turned to delight.
“A cat?!”
“You brought a cat with you?”
“It’s so black! If its eyes hadn’t moved, I wouldn’t have seen it at all!”
“It’s so chubby…”
Shi Mo: “?”
It was obvious the girl was fond of cats; once she discovered it, all her attention was captured. Though this black cat lacked the striking looks of a ragdoll cat, its ink-black fur exuded a mysterious depth, and its amber eyes were filled with disdain and aloofness, yet seemed lively and almost capable of understanding human speech.
The more Wen Zhixia looked, the more she itched to touch it. Still, she was polite enough not to reach out, only asking, “May I pet it? I really love cats!”
“That wouldn’t be wise. It doesn’t like strangers and might scratch you.”
“Oh… all right.” Wen Zhixia sounded disappointed.
Yet the cat, ever contrary, seeing how the girl longed to pet it but dared not, began to show off, arching and posing, tempting her all the more, yet remaining just out of reach.
Hmph, you called me fat—let’s see how you like being tormented!
…
As the journey reached its midpoint, the temperature steadily rose.
Inside the slow-moving bus, complaints began to surface.
“Driver, is the air conditioning on? It’s so hot back here. The heat woke me up from my nap!”
“Yeah, there’s not a breath of air from these vents…”
“It’s such a hot day, you can’t just cool the front of the bus…”
Hearing the grumbling from the middle and rear passengers, the driver could only reply helplessly, “The rear AC is broken, so please bear with it. There’s nothing I can do.”
“It’s the height of summer—without AC, we’ll melt in here!”
Hearing this, Wen Zhixia realized that the back of the bus had no air conditioning. She glanced around; the passengers did look rather stifled, yet she herself didn’t feel hot at all.
“Is our AC broken too?” she asked the young Daoist by the window.
“Mm, probably,” Chen Shian nodded.
“Aren’t you hot? Your Daoist robe doesn’t look very cool, and you’re sitting in the corner…”
“I’m not. When the heart is calm, one feels cool. Are you hot?”
“Nope. I usually can’t stand heat, but I don’t feel it now.”
Despite her name, Wen Zhixia usually dreaded the heat. Now, with others sweltering around her, she felt nothing—a curious thing indeed.
Could it be that a calm mind truly brings coolness?
Wen Zhixia knew she wasn’t one for stillness. Perhaps it was the gentle, easy atmosphere that made her feel so at ease while talking with the young Daoist.
The heat drove many passengers from the rear to stand near the front, finding it more comfortable standing than sitting.
An older woman, using her palm as a fan, stood beside Chen Shian and Wen Zhixia, fanning herself and striking up a conversation with the young Daoist.
“Little master, are you a Daoist?”
“Yes, I am.”
“I have a few questions I’d like to ask, if that’s all right?”
“Please, go ahead.”
“It’s about my husband. Lately, he’s been feeling tightness in his throat at night and wakes with terrible breath. A while ago, he climbed the mountain with some friends. Do you think it could be…?”
Seeing her serious expression, Wen Zhixia pricked up her ears, her imagination conjuring images of spirits clutching throats.
But Chen Shian only nodded, “It’s probably excessive liver fire. He should drink more water and, if possible, make some cooling herbal tea.”
“So he hasn’t encountered anything… unusual?”
“No, nothing of the sort.”
“And my son went with him that day. Lately, he seems listless, lethargic, drowsy all the time, his legs go weak, and for someone so young, he complains of back pain. When I saw him gaming, he was talking about succubi…”
“That sounds like overindulgence.”
“What? He doesn’t even have a girlfriend!”
The older woman clearly hadn’t caught on, but Wen Zhixia, a modern girl, understood at once, smothering a giggle behind her hand, her cheeks rosy.
Though Chen Shian was young, he seemed unembarrassed discussing such matters.
He was well used to questions like the older woman’s. Many people misunderstood Daoists, and most of their questions had nothing to do with the true Way—complaints of headaches, fever, insomnia, and the like. When science and medicine couldn’t solve their troubles, they turned to the mystical.
It was much like being a programmer, only to have people always ask you to fix their computers. As a Daoist, Chen Shian often felt he could hang a shingle as a half-doctor.
“Your son should get checked for kidney yang or yin deficiency. If it’s yang deficiency, he can take decoctions like Suoyang Gujing Pills or Gui Fu Dihuang Pills; for yin deficiency, Liuwei Dihuang Pills or Zhibai Dihuang Pills. If it’s kidney essence deficiency, Wuzi Yanzong Pills. Regardless, he should pay more attention to moderation.”
“Uh… oh, thank you, little master.”
Whether the older woman believed him or still thought her son was haunted, Wen Zhixia was already full of admiration.
“You know so much! Do Daoists study all this too?”
“It’s just what I’ve picked up over time.”
Wen Zhixia, now intrigued, turned to face him. “Then… can you read my fortune too?”
…
Chen Shian regarded the youthful girl before him.
He had to admit, she was quite pretty, and in her blue and white school uniform she radiated the invincible energy of youth. Her forehead was full and round, like a spring bud just about to bloom—a sign of deep good fortune. Her brows were gentle and smooth, arching slightly at the ends, her eyes clear and bright, the pupils large and spirited, revealing intelligence and an open-hearted nature.
As Chen Shian examined her, she was also gazing at him.
She had once paid twenty yuan to have her fortune told on the street, but those fortune-tellers were always aging men or aunties—none could compare to Chen Shian. Perhaps because they were close in age, and because he was so good-looking, being scrutinized by him soon made Wen Zhixia feel shy. She hurried to break the odd mood.
“Well? What do you see?”
“You…”
“Just so you know, I don’t have a boyfriend, so don’t go making things up!” Remembering what Chen Shian had said to the older woman, she quickly added a disclaimer.
“Your features are very auspicious—you’ll have good luck, smooth progress, and blessing by your side. However, you’ve been a bit overheated lately; get more rest, don’t stay up late, and drink plenty of water.”
Though she didn’t take his words too seriously, everyone enjoys hearing good things. Her expression brightened visibly. “Really?”
“I always say what I see.”
“Hehe, thanks~~”
…
What had started as a dull journey became much more entertaining with a companion to chat with.
Unnoticed, the bus arrived at its final stop. Passengers began to disembark. Chen Shian and Wen Zhixia each shouldered their bags.
They had talked the entire way, yet never exchanged names or contact information, nor did they know each other’s next destination.
For Wen Zhixia, it was because she felt her life as a student and his as a Daoist belonged to different worlds. For Chen Shian, he never forced fate; everyone is a stranger, sharing a path for a while—when the road divides, so do they. Human relationships, for all their seeming complexity, are, in the end, just like this.
“I’m off! See you if fate allows! Bye-bye, little kitty!”
The girl, who Chen Shian had judged blessed with great fortune, waved at him and the cat in his backpack before skipping onto another bus that had conveniently just arrived.
Watching his companion depart, Chen Shian took a sip of glucose water, then checked his phone for directions to Yunqi No. 1 High School.
Not far.
Only a fifty-minute walk.
He’d walk.
.
.
(A heartfelt thanks to classmates Yunchen Summer and RUY16109 for their ongoing support! Loyal readers and patrons both—thank you!)