CH 2.1

Twin sails spread to the wind, the boat sped along, till the dawn’s early light in the east when they arrived on the banks of Yueyang. The longbearded old man saw Menghuan and Xialin off as they went ashore, then turned to to see the four shuttle skiffs coming swiftly. One of the skiffs on the left was pulling behind it Menghuan and Xialin’s little boat. The longbearded old man waited till the little boat was pulled to shore, then he saluted with a cupped fist and said, “Take care, Little Brother!”

Yang Menghuan wanted to say a few words of thanks, but before he could open his mouth the man was back on the big ship, the sails were hoisted, and it left, followed closely by the four shuttle skiffs, and before long they had disappeared in the misty waters.

Yang Menghuan took stock of their boat and effects and saw that nothing had been disturbed. He collected their things, then he and Xialin left the boat and went on.

It was still not light out yet and there was no one around, so they used their lightness skill and ran faster than galloping steeds and in less time than it takes to eat a meal had gone more than twenty miles. They looked up and saw the silhouette of mountains on three sides surrounding a little village. There was a clear stream in front of the village, its waters babbling gently along. West of the village at the foot of a mountain, a red wall could just be made out among the luxuriant greenery. Yang Menghuan pointed at the red wall and said, “That red wall is my humble abode. My father retired from officialdom twenty years ago and set up residence on Dongmao Ridge.”

Xialin turned with a smile and said, “This place looks fun. We should come here to the stream when we have time and catch some fish, what do you say?”

Those words changed the look on Yang Menghuan’s face and he felt an ache in his heart, but he kept a straight face and said nothing for a while. Before his eyes emerged scene after scene of his childhood when he used to go fishing at this stream with his older female cousin, Yujuan. She was three years older and had lost her parents when she was very young. Menghuan’s mother, as her aunt, raised Yujuan and the two of them had grown up together, childhood playmates playing with each other day and night. Yujuan took particular care of him and he always did what she said. From the time he first learned to talk till he had some understanding of the world, they ate and studied together and never left each other’s side. Yujuan was surpassingly pretty and intelligent, a celestial being in little Yang Menghuan’s eyes, and in his pure child’s heart sprouted the seedling of love. When Menghuan was eight years old he was taken by Master One Yang to Mystic Metropolis to learn martial arts.

That was twelve years ago, and thought he had come back to visit twice during that time, he had been with his sectfather then and had only stayed for a couple days before leaving again, so there had been so little opportunity to catch up with Yujuan. The second time had had returned home had been the year before last, when Yang Menghuan was eighteen, Yujuan twenty-one, and the little girl had become a young woman and was becoming more and more refined and graceful. On the first night they were back, Master One Yang and his uncle had stayed up late in the parlor talking, and the maidservant Silver Vase had invited him back to her boudoir to meet Yujuan. But they had grown up and it was awkward now and they fell silent with each other and just sat there for a long time before Yang Menghuan finally stammered out his deep affection for her and how much he’d missed her. Yujuan, teary-eyed, had urged her younger cousin to practice his martial arts well. She said that Master One Yang was a remarkable person beyond the mundane world and that such a good opportunity to have such a sectfather would not come around for a thousand years and that he should not get distracted by missing her, and that no matter how long it took for Yang Menghuan’s training to be complete so he could come back home, whether it was ten years or a hundred years, she would still wait patiently for him. Such a statement was not quite a pledge to marry him, but Yang Menghuan was smart, how could he not understand what she meant?

They talked long into the night and swore an oath of undying love, and the next day Yang Menghuan once again went back to Mystic Metropolis with his teacher. Now that he had come back this time with Xialin he was afraid that Yujuan would misunderstand… He was so caught up in his thoughts that he stopped in the road and forgot to go on.

Shen Xialin thought it strange for Menghuan to be stopped there lost in a daze. She went over to him and said, “Big Brother Huan, what are you thinking about?”

Yang Menghuan looked down at her tender blushing face full of loving concern and his heart skipped a beat. He smiled and said plainly, “I was thinking about Shifu…”

Before he could finish, Xialin cut in, “Mm! My sectfather as well. In the future when I join Kunlun, I won’t be able to call him Shifu, so what will I call him?”

Menghuan smiled. “Call him Senior Sectuncle.”

Shen Xialin nodded and grinned and followed Menghuan toward the red wall.

They crossed the little brook and went through a section of lawn studded with green bamboo and pretty trees and a big house appeared, the signboard over the main entrance reading: “Watermoon Mountain Villa” in large characters. An old servant around fifty was sweeping the courtyard. He turned to see Menghuan and was so delighted he dropped his broom and went over to greet them. “Young Master has returned! Old Master just yesterday mentioned Young Master. Tomorrow just happened to be the anniversary of the death of Miss Juan. You all grew up together…”

Before the old servant had finished speaking Yang Menghuan was already frozen stiff. He turned and asked, “Yang Fu, what did you say? My Cousin Juan died?”

Yang Fu shook his head with a sigh. “Heaven is blind, that poor Miss Juan, pretty as a flower, like jade, yet she died before this old servant!”

Yang Menghuan staggered and clutched Yang Fu’s right arm. “How did she die?”

Yang Menghuan was incredibly strong and this sudden sad news broke his heart. He unconsciously clutched Yang Fu’s right arm, and how could the old servant stand it. He felt such pain that he thought the bone was going to snap and tears and mucous poured out of his nose and he couldn’t get out a reply. Xialin, standing off to the side, was worried and sad. She was just a big innocent kid and for a moment didn’t know what to do to help and just stood there staring in a daze.

Just then an old man with a stately bearing and wearing a long robe came out from the main hall. He had a short snow-white beard and he shouted sternly as he emerged, “Huan’er, let go of him, are you crazy?”

That shout snapped Yang Menghuan out of his befuddlement and he turned to see his father standing there with his hands behind his back. He let go of Yang Fu and kowtowed on the ground. “Your son pays his respects to Father.”

The old man asked Yang Fu, “Are you hurt?”

Yang Fu wiped his face with his sleeve and forced a smile. “It’s alright, this old servant can take it.”

The old man nodded. “Go take a break.”

Yang Fu assented and withdrew. Only then did the old man look at Yang Menghuan prostrate on the ground. “You’re twenty years old, how can you be so impetuous. If I had been one step late coming out would Yang Fu still have a right arm?”

Yang Menghuan kowtowed again. “Your son just heard about Cousin Juan’s death and lost control for a moment, I didn’t mean to.”

The old man sighed “Juan’er, in the prime of her young life, died so tragically. Your mother and I did all we could, but Heaven only allots a certain number of years, how could our efforts redeem her. Get up!”

Then he noticed Xialin and lowered his voice. “Who is this young girl in white?”

Menghuan got up and said, “This is my junior sectsister, Shen Xialin. I was ordered by Shifu to escort her to Mount Kunlun.”

At this point, Xialin had moved closer and Menghuan whispered to her, “That’s my father.”

Miss Shen cried out sweetly, “Uncle!”

She gracefully kowtowed and the old man returned it with a slight bow with a smile. “Miss Shen, please rise, there’s no need to be so formal.”

Xialin kowtowed and rose but didn’t know what to say and just looked at the old man with a smile and went back to stand beside Menghuan.

~*~

Menghuan’s father was called Yang Zhang. He had been an imperial censor during the reign of Ming Wuzong but had resigned due to the eunuch Liu Jin’s abuse of power and retired to Dongmao Ridge in Yuezhou where he constructed “Watermoon Mountain Villa” and devoted himself to reading. When Menghuan was four years old he was playing by the stream when he was spotted by Master One Yang, who felt that he was naturally gifted. Fearing that someone from another school might discover him and take him away, he pretended to be collecting alms and called on Yang Zhang. Yang Zhang saw that Master One Yang had the bearing and manner of a transcendent and knew he was no ordinary person, so he invited him inside for tea. They got along better the more they talked and they became friends. Henceforth, Master One Yang stayed for a few days every year at Watermoon Mountain Villa.

Gradually, Yang Zhang came to know that Master One Yang was learned in the Six Arts and was a remarkable person. On his fourth visit, Yang Menghuan was eight years old and Master One Yang told Yang Zhang directly that Menghuan was special, and was an outstanding talent not suited for officialdom. Yang Zhang smiled and said, “I wearied of official life and retired here and never had any desire to see my son make a name for himself as an official. If you really like him, why not accept his as a student?”

That was just what Master One Yang wanted, and he dropped all pretense and agreed at once. Two days later he took Menghuan back to Mystic Metropolis Abbey.

~*~

Let’s turn to Yang Zhang, who brought Yang Menghuan and Xialin into the main hall, and after everyone was seated he asked, “Your sectfather didn’t come this time? When do you plan to head back to Mystic Metropolis?”

Menghuan said, “Shifu ordered me to go back home and see my parents, than a month later I am to take Junior Sister west to Mount Kunlun for her to pay her respects to her teacher and join the school. I’m not going back to Mystic Metropolis.”

Yang Zhang smiled, saying, “Since you’re a Kunlun disciple you must do as your sectfather instructs. Your mother and I are old and see everything as uninteresting. Ever since your cousin died your mother has been utterly disheartened, every day locked away in her meditation hall facing Buddha and reciting sutras. Even I’m not allowed to go in and disturb her. Under her influence I too am moved to cut myself off from the world and face the wall in meditation and cultivate in private. Though your mother comes from an important family, she’s been with me through all the political ups and downs over the years, but she is a person of great intelligence and suited for enlightenment. That I could awaken from this dream of fame and fortune and retire at the peak of my career is due to your mother’s advice. She always used to tell me that Juan’er is beautiful and intelligent, but was born under an unlucky star and would die young, unlikely to live past the age of twenty-five. Sure enough, her inauspicious prediction came true, and she passed away last year due to smallpox. Your maternal uncle once served as a county magistrate and did a lot of foolish things. He paid for it and now his misfortune has befallen Juan’er. All that talk of karmic transmigration seems not to be a load of nonsense after all. Go on to the meditation hall to see your mother. Tomorrow we’ll prepare a sacrificial offering and pay our respects before your cousin’s grave. As for what you will do later, I don’t want to ask. Your sectfather knows the inner workings of the universe, whatever he says is probably right. Perhaps I will be fortunate enough to live as a hermit beyond the mundane world.” With that he rose and nodded to Xialin and strode out of the hall.

Yang Menghuan was left staring blankly in a daze like a simpleton. He didn’t even watch his father leave the room. He couldn’t say how he felt. After Yang Zhang had cast off official life his heart had been as calm as still water, and after twenty years of cultivating his mind at Watermoon Mountain Villa he was already free from the human desires, his mind clear and illumined. When it came to cultivating his mind and temperament, he had surpassed Master One Yang, all because after retiring from official life he had been utterly disheartened. When a person reaches the point of being free of thoughts or emotions, they view the desires and emotions of life as fleeting as passing clouds, they don’t take anything to heart. Yang Menghuan couldn’t help but shed a few tears as he watched his father vanish from the room. Xialin gave him a silk handkerchief and said consolingly, “Big Brother Huan, don’t be sad, okay?”

Menghuan took the handkerchief and wiped his tears and smiled. “Come ! Let’s go see my mother.”