Bewilderment

“Dad! Dad! Look, braised pork!! Braised pork!” Lü Xiucai, his mouth stuffed with a meatball, stared straight at the platter being carried over.

The moment the plate of glistening, oily braised pork belly hit the table, half a dozen chopsticks shot forward like spears. By the time they withdrew, not even the preserved mustard greens underneath were left.

“Look at you all, eating like starving ghosts! Slow down! Anyone would think the Lü family has no manners!”

“Dad, cut the manners talk. On New Year’s we never ate this well. Look at that piece of fat on your own chopsticks—you’re eating just as much as we are.” The youngest son’s jab earned him a sharp rap on the head with his father’s chopsticks.

Seeing his brother get hit, Lü Zhuangyuan swallowed his mouthful and intervened. “Dad, just let them eat. We went through a lot last night to earn this meal.”

At that, the wolfish feasting paused. In every face around the table was the dazed relief of people who had barely crawled out of death’s reach.

Last night had been terrifying. The high master had been battling that monster down below, and they—the ones singing on the stage above—had nearly pissed themselves in fright.

One by one, their gazes drifted toward the front of the house, toward Li Huowang, who sat staring into the distance, lost in thought.

A quiet awe crept into every pair of eyes. If not for this high master last night, they wouldn’t be eating this meal today.

This little Daoist priest—young, with no beard on his chin—was no ordinary man.

But the moment a serving boy brought out another dish, their attention snapped back.

“Hey! Chicken! Look! Roast chicken!” A swarm of chopsticks hovered over the table like snake tongues, ready to strike.

Just as they were about to tear the chicken apart, a well-worn tobacco pipe blocked their path. “Stop! Nobody touches this chicken! I’m going to invite the little Daoist master to eat with us.”

“Dad, don’t bother. Daoists don’t eat meat. You’d make him break his vows.”

“Fuck your mother’s fart! Monks don’t eat meat, not Daoists! I swear—if I come back and find even a speck of skin missing from this chicken, you’ll answer for it!”

Lü Zhuangyuan shot his most unruly son a venomous glare, wiped his greasy mouth with his hand, then scrubbed the same hand dry on the underside of the table. He turned and walked toward Li Huowang.

“Little Daoist master, hehehe, little Daoist master?” Lü Zhuangyuan’s face, a web of wrinkles, was scrunched into the warmest smile he could manage.

“You’ve been working all night. Why not join us for a bite? Look—the Hu family sent out dishes packed with oil and substance.”

Li Huowang turned from his thoughts to face him. After a moment of deliberation, he asked hesitantly, “Troupe Master Lü, you saw those memorial tablets all fall at once, didn’t you? That scene wasn’t just my hallucination, was it?”

“Ai-yo, little Daoist master, how would I know about that? I don’t have your abilities—I didn’t dare look around much. I kept my eyes shut the whole time I was singing on stage.”

Li Huowang sighed softly. He replayed that voice in his ear. It was faint, but unmistakable. It was his master Danyangzi’s voice. In both worlds, only Danyangzi had ever called him wa—lad.

By all logic, hearing his master’s voice again should have filled him with terror. But instead, Li Huowang felt only bewilderment, because he couldn’t even trust himself.

I’m a mental patient. A severe one. If this is just a relapse from not taking the Black Tai Sui—a little auditory hallucination in my ear—that’s perfectly normal.

But those falling tablets, and the sudden appearance and disappearance of Xi Shen… none of that adds up. Unless…

Li Huowang recalled the grotesque transformation of Danyangzi’s body just before his death, and his expression darkened.

Unless he actually… became an immortal?!

No. Danyangzi couldn’t have become an immortal. The so-called ascension method and the inner pill he took were all lies I made up on the spot. How could something I pulled out of my ass help anyone ascend? Unless he didn’t become an immortal at all!

But if he’s not an immortal, what did he become? And why is he still clinging to me?

A flicker of raw frustration twisted Li Huowang’s face.

“Little Daoist master? What’s on your mind? We’re all family now. If anything’s troubling you, just say the word.”

Lü Zhuangyuan’s voice pulled Li Huowang back to the present. He took a deep breath and made a decision. True or false, I don’t have many options. For now, I’ll head to that Xijing City and check out the Buddhist temple Lü Zhuangyuan mentioned. If it’s real, they might know something. I still know far too little about this world.

“It’s nothing, Troupe Master. Just some stray thoughts. Let’s eat.”

Hearing this, Lü Zhuangyuan nodded happily, and the two turned to walk toward the table inside.

When they reached it, Lü Zhuangyuan’s smile froze. Every single dish on the table, except the chicken, had been licked clean. So clean they didn’t even need washing.

“Ahhh—that hit the spot. I bet even the emperor doesn’t eat this well.” Lü Xiucai, lips slick with grease, leaned back in his chair and loosened his belt.

Lü Zhuangyuan gave Li Huowang an awkward smile. With outsiders present, he couldn’t lose his temper. He picked up the roast chicken with both hands and placed it in front of Li Huowang. “Little Daoist master, the chicken’s nice and fatty. My apologies for the poor showing.”

Li Huowang smiled, picked up his chopsticks, tore off a strip of chicken, and put it in his mouth. “It’s fine. The chicken is good.”

He had barely eaten a few bites when a group of people crossed the courtyard and entered the house. At the front was Lü Zhuangyuan’s employer, Hu Jianghe.

“Not bad, not bad. The ancestors were thoroughly pleased. The incense and candles on the altar were consumed clean—a good sign, a very good sign!”

At the praise, Lü Zhuangyuan broke into a broad grin and hurriedly demurred. “It’s our duty, our duty. This old man was only doing what he ought to.”

“Troupe Master Lü, if you ever pass this way again, you must stop by the Hu household for some tea,” Hu Jianghe said politely.

As he spoke, a burly man beside him stepped forward with a tray covered in red cloth. The cloth was lifted to reveal ten gleaming silver ingots, neatly arranged.

“The agreed ten taels of silver. Count it well.”

“Ai-yo! Many thanks, Master Hu! Rest assured—if you ever need our services again, just send word. Wherever the Lü Family Troupe may be, we’ll come as fast as we can.”

After Master Hu left, the Lü family crowded around the tray, their eyes glistening with greed as they stared at the silver ingots.

Just as Lü Xiucai reached out to touch the largest amount of money he had ever seen in his life, an old tobacco pipe smacked his hand away.

Lü Zhuangyuan first tucked four ingots into his own pocket. He stared at the remaining six, his eyes full of reluctant longing.

But in the end, he forced a smile back onto his face and carried the silver over to Li Huowang, who was still eating.

“Hehehe, here, little Daoist master. As agreed—you take sixty percent, I take forty. This is your share.”