The Road Song

“Incense sinks heavy, responding to heaven and earth. The burning fragrance pierces through the heavenly gate. The golden bird runs like a cloud-tipped arrow, the jade rabbit’s wheel spins.”

Lü Zhuangyuan, one foot propped on the cart and the other dangling, was stuffing tobacco shreds into his pipe. When he heard this familiar chanting, he couldn’t help but furrow his brow.

He followed the sound and saw, by the campfire, his youngest son, Lü Xiucai, bent over with his backside in the air. The boy was holding a stick of incense, chanting non-stop while drawing something on a canvas.

“Hmph! Praying and chanting every single day, and you’re not even this dutiful to your own father!”

No matter what Lü Zhuangyuan said, Lü Xiucai continued his diligent recitation of the general incantation.

“The Southern Dipper and Northern Star shine bright in the sky, five-colored clouds drift in confusion. Within the Purple Tenuity Palace, the sacred hall opens; the Peach Garden Jade Maiden invites the immortals. Across a thousand miles of road, the incense extends the invitation; on flying clouds and galloping horses, the honored ones descend. I receive offerings of the three benefactors of this altar, and the multitudes of holy Wusheng Laomu.”

After Lü Xiucai had piously and diligently recited the chant three times, he carefully inserted the spent incense stick into the soil.

He bowed three times to the canvas, and as he was putting it away, Gouwa, who was lying nearby, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and opened them.

“Xiucai, what are you wailing about every day? You woke me up at dawn. Back when you were practicing the Spirit Invocation of the White Lotus Society, you weren’t making this kind of racket.”

Lü Xiucai looked at him with contempt. “I’ve finished the Oral Incantation stage, so now I have to cultivate the Second Spirit Diagram. The technique is naturally different.”

“Sure, you can strut around with the stuff your master gave you, but that’s as far as you’ll ever go. You can only rely on external objects; you won’t advance another half-step. But me? I get a little stronger every day. Soon enough, I’ll surpass you!”

Gouwa waved his hand impatiently, as if shooing a fly, and turned over to go back to sleep.

“Eeee~ ah~ ah~ ah~”

The uneven voices of the Lü troupe apprentices warming up made Gouwa groan and press the pillow over his head.

There was no way he could sleep now. With a face full of irritation, he sat up abruptly and headed to the stream to wash up.

The weather was getting warmer. The water in the stream was nice and cool, and standing in it felt comfortable.

By the time Gouwa dawdled his way back, Lü Juren’s wife, Luo Juan, had already prepared breakfast. Today’s meal was wild vegetable soaked bread with salty dried radish.

Gouwa, his eyes half-closed, took a bite of the bread with the radish and shook his head. “Far worse than the kid’s cooking.”

Luo Juan wasn’t one to be bossed around. They’d been together long enough that she knew exactly what Gouwa’s status was in Niuxin Village. He was nothing but a joker.

“Oh, Master Dog, this is the Lü Troupe’s food. If it’s not good enough for you, then you can go back.”

“Hey, you think I want to be here? It’s been so long since Senior Brother Li came back. If the village hadn’t needed someone to come out and gather information, why would I bother coming out here with you to suffer? Not a speck of oil in the morning. How are we supposed to travel all day on this?”

“I mean, you guys made plenty of money singing those spring operas, didn’t you? How come I see you earning but never spending?” Gouwa grumbled as he started eating his bowl of soaked bread.

Hearing this, Lü Zhuangyuan produced a salted duck egg as if by magic from who-knows-where. First, he put the oily yolk into his three-year-old granddaughter’s bowl, then placed the egg white into Gouwa’s bowl.

“Brother Cao, you absolutely can’t leave. With the world in chaos right now, the Lü Troupe is relying on you and my son for protection. If you go back, I really wouldn’t dare to head for the capital.”

Hearing this, Lü Xiucai shot up. “Old bones! Who the fuck are you calling a dog!”

Seeing they were about to start fighting again, Gouwa reluctantly played peacemaker and tried to calm them down.

He was just griping anyway. If Gao Zhijian and Xiaoman found out he hadn’t even made it to the capital before turning back, they’d definitely curse him out.

This simple breakfast ended in a clamor of arguments. The Lü Troupe’s three carts began rolling along the dirt road toward the capital.

“The capital is the imperial city of Great Liang. I heard it’s the biggest city in the entire world. It must be even more impressive than Yinling City, right?” Luo Juan’s eyes held a look of longing. She’d heard that name when she was a child, but it had always only existed in legends.

Following her lead, the entire Lü Troupe grew lively, all of them talking at once about the exaggerated legends of the capital they’d heard from traveling peddlers.

As Lü Juren walked along silently like an old ox, holding his daughter, he saw his father approach him.

“Juren, we’ve made a good amount of money here in Great Liang. When we get to the capital, let’s ask about the land prices. If it’s not too much, we can ask Little Daoist for a bit more to borrow, and then buy an opera house in the biggest city in the world!”

When he said the words “opera house,” Lü Zhuangyuan’s eyes practically shone. This was what he had lived his entire life for.

It had always been a distant, unattainable dream, but here in Great Liang, he could finally see hope.

“Once the opera house is up, we can move the ancestral graves here. Ah, just thinking about it feels wonderful.”

Just as Lü Zhuangyuan was lost in his wonderful daydream, Gouwa sidled up to him. “Well well, so that’s why you agreed so readily back in Niuxin Village. It wasn’t really about finding Senior Brother Li, was it?”

“Ahem, I’m looking for him too, I’m looking for him too. It’s just that I think Little Daoist has such vast supernatural powers, there’s no need to worry about him. If there’s something that can stump him, the rest of us probably couldn’t help anyway.”

In Lü Zhuangyuan’s mind, Li Huowang was basically a living immortal at this point, the kind who would ascend to heaven at any moment.

“Heh, you never know. Maybe he’ll have another episode on the road.”

The group walked and talked, but their energy didn’t last long. As the sun climbed to its zenith and the heat became oppressive, they all lost the strength to speak.

When they spotted a pond by the village entrance, they were overjoyed. They rushed over to wash their faces and drink the water.

“Dad, since there’s a village here, why don’t we borrow a stove from them to cook? The sun is so brutal; starting a fire outside really is unbearable.” Luo Juan, wiping her daughter’s face, complained to Lü Zhuangyuan.

Lü Zhuangyuan thought for a moment and nodded. “Mm, don’t offer to pay right away. First, ask if the village has any business. If they do, we can save a meal.”

Feeling much cooler, they led the carts into the village. It was a large village, and many people came out with their bowls, standing by their gates and pointing at the Lü Troupe.

Lü Zhuangyuan didn’t approach them. Instead, he quietly assessed the houses. To cadge a meal, you had to find the richest family in the village. Common dirt-farmers wouldn’t have spare money for opera.

After wandering around for a while, Lü Zhuangyuan’s eyes suddenly lit up. Inside one yard, bundles of tobacco leaves were laid out to dry.

He called out to the old man inside, who was smoking from a large bamboo water pipe. “What’s your price for these tobacco leaves? I’d like to buy some; I just ran out.”

“What? That expensive? Old-timer, I don’t need you to cut it, and I don’t need you to dry it. I’ll handle it myself.”

Lü Zhuangyuan haggled and eventually managed to get a big handful of fresh, unripe tobacco leaves straight from the ground for five copper coins.

“Heh heh.” Lü Zhuangyuan clutched the leaves with glee. If he added some chili leaf to this much tobacco and smoked sparingly, it would last him nearly half a year.

“Dad! Dad! It sounds like there’s something going on over there! I think I hear drumming!”