Chapter Eight: The Taoist

The quiet town continued its peaceful existence, everything running as usual. Recently, Master Su Yuan had taken to vanishing for stretches of time, every now and then. His students were unbothered; it was said the old man had always enjoyed disappearing acts. Su Yuan had heard of students skipping classes, but this was his first time hearing of a teacher doing so!

Li Yu, Su Yuan’s neighbor—gifted and clever—took up the role of substitute teacher at the old man's behest. Truth be told, Li Yu seemed more like a true scholar than the master himself—far more reliable.

At midnight each day, Su Yuan sought out the man in black to learn martial arts, undeterred by wind or rain. In martial training, just as with riding horses across the plains, it was easy to let go but hard to rein in; like rowing against the current—one must advance or be swept back. The heart was no different. When Su Yuan's skills began to show promise, he knocked out Zhang Meng with a single punch right before Jiang Ye, the girl playing the bride.

Of all these busy days, the most occupied was the stout woman. To make earning easier, she rented a room in town, making lard soap at night and selling it by day. Each time she returned, she sported a new hairpin or a fresh set of clothes, and every visit ended with her showering Su Yuan’s face with affectionate saliva. “Little Su, I’m saving this money for you. One day, I’ll find you a beautiful wife!”

Su Yuan counted on his fingers, wondering when he’d finally grow up. Getting married wasn’t important; drinking wine in the brothel was what truly mattered!

“Su, there’s a Taoist over by the village square. Want to check it out?” Monkey, the nickname of a local boy, sidled up while Su Yuan was absorbed in a book—a certain “Ladies Washing Clothes by the Moonlit River”—which had made him blush when Jiang Ye accidentally caught sight of it. Monkey, one of those who’d carried the bridal sedan that day, had switched sides after Su Yuan’s punch floored Zhang Meng, now acting as Su Yuan’s loyal follower.

Su Yuan glanced lazily at the skinny Monkey. “What’s so interesting about a Taoist?” Monkey was instantly excited. “Interesting? I heard this Taoist claims he can call wind and rain!” His curiosity piqued, Su Yuan decided to go have a look.

From afar, they could see a crowd gathered beside the old well in the square. Su Yuan and Monkey squeezed inside, and saw a Taoist, about fifty years old, gaunt and bony, wearing a lotus crown, dark blue robe, cloth shoes with stitched soles, and holding two balls. He shifted the balls from left to right and right to left in his hands.

Such tricks to fool children held no allure for Su Yuan, but the townsfolk were amazed. Most incredible to them was the Taoist’s fingers, which emitted smoke—enough to make the superstitious nearly fall to their knees and call him an immortal.

Then came the money-making part: the Taoist offered to read palms for the children, adults could show support with a donation. People eagerly thrust their children’s hands forward, and many grown-ups wanted their own fortunes read. The Taoist welcomed all comers.

Ten copper coins per person, quite a racket. In no time, the Taoist had pocketed two or three hundred coins, offering nothing but auspicious words—never any ill fortune.

Seeing this charlatan, Su Yuan was displeased. Once most people had left, he decided to use his fledgling martial skills to teach the Taoist a lesson.

The Taoist happened to look at Su Yuan. “Come, come, let me read your palm. You’re the last one—I’ll charge you three coins!” Su Yuan was curious to see what trick the Taoist would play, so he extended his small hand. The Taoist grinned, “This hand doesn’t look like a child’s!”

Su Yuan’s heart skipped; he tried to pull back, but the Taoist grabbed his wrist firmly, holding it fast. With a mischievous smile, the Taoist said, “So young, and already learning martial arts?”

Su Yuan had told no one about his training.

The Taoist continued to examine Su Yuan’s palm, his expression growing serious. Intimidated by the Taoist’s demeanor, Su Yuan’s resolve to teach him a lesson vanished; he could only hope not to be scolded himself. “Here, I’ll pay! Ten coins, I’ll pay them!”

After a long moment, the Taoist released Su Yuan’s hand, smiling. “Hmm, this palm shows a destiny of wealth and honor. Three coins!” Su Yuan handed over the coins and dashed off.

Once Su Yuan had gone, the Taoist leaned over the old well, peering into it for a long time. Then he tossed a copper coin inside, chuckled softly, and left the village, swaying as he hummed a tune.