Chapter 5: Section 5: High-Tech

The golden snake still turned inside the black mirror surface, but there was a clear difference from before the crossing — head and tail couldn't connect, shorter by at least a third.

After Cao Chuan got a clear look, he rubbed the mirror surface with his right thumb again as before; no reaction at all. This time a few thoughts did bubble up: if he wasn't mistaken, once that golden line linked head to tail again, he might — perhaps, maybe — be able to go back?

At that thought, a certain someone instantly grew excited. If this thing really could send him back and forth, wouldn't that be a gold mine?

Countless heart-demon illusions floated before Daoist Cao's eyes: one moment he was laughing with Wall Street tycoons over the winds and clouds, the next he was warming wine with Middle Eastern oil magnates and debating heroes. All manner of jumbled scenes tumbled ceaselessly before the great immortal's gaze. Cao Chuan's face shifted like wind and clouds, showing signs of qi deviation.

A good while later, after wiping away his drool, his train of thought finally returned to normal. Vaguely he felt he had forgotten something — right, there was still the other mirror surface! At that thought, Cao Chuan hurriedly flipped his palm, brought the ring's white mirror surface close to the oil lamp, and studied it carefully.

Inside the ring's white mirror surface, a single fine golden line was also swimming about. Cao Chuan couldn't wait and rubbed it with his right thumb — no response. That's unscientific, isn't it? He took turns rubbing it with all five fingers of his right hand; still no reaction.

"There ought to be at least some movement to be reasonable, right?" he muttered to himself, and inadvertently brushed the mirror surface lightly with his left thumb.

Swish — from the mirror surface flashed a short tuft of faint, barely-there white light. "Ha?! Damn thing's high-tech — fingerprint recognition, huh?" Shouting inwardly, he stood up. Before he could put more thought into studying what function this mirror surface held, the answer had already appeared.

Every piece of furniture that this faint, barely-there white light touched — bamboo tables and bamboo chairs, bookshelves and account books — all vanished in an instant. In the blink of an eye, half the room was empty.

He bit down hard on his right fist. Even though he had already endured far too many impossibilities today, the half-empty bamboo house before his eyes still once again battered his weary nerves.

Slowly he pressed his left thumb onto the mirror surface once more. In that moment, he could clearly "see" in his mind those pieces of furniture drifting inside a gray, hazy space. The space wasn't very large — about the same area as the room he rented in Hengdian, a cube with sides under three meters.

"Whose family treasure are you, really?" No longer daring to curse this picked-up "display piece," Cao Chuan lifted his thumb from the mirror surface, then touched it again. That faint white light appeared once more, and in the time it took to blink, the furniture was piled back onto the floor in disarray.

A certain someone's face was blank; his mouth began to mutter ceaselessly: "This is gonna be huge."

The moon was at its zenith. The moon of the Great Ming was undoubtedly far clearer and brighter than it would be several hundred years later — the dazzling Milky Way in the distance could attest to that. In a certain bamboo house in Pingfeng Stronghold, three bandit chiefs freshly baptized by new-concept planar theory were holding a meeting, their faces full of excitement. And in another bamboo house, from time to time one could hear bursts of suppressed strange noises — unclear whether laughter or weeping.

Early the next morning, Zhao Si was dispatched by Great Boss Zhou to attend outside Cao Chuan's door. Zhao Si had just turned eighteen this year; within the stronghold he counted as a junior, and he was a distant relative of the Great Lord.

Having witnessed a certain someone's spectacular entrance with his own eyes the day before, Zhao Si had followed the crowd in a wild excitement for quite a while. He hadn't expected to be sent over to attend first thing in the morning. "This means I've got immortal affinity myself," Zhao Si thought as he squatted in front of Cao Chuan's door playing with pebbles.

It wasn't until the sun was three poles high — Accountant Lü had already come by twice — that Zhao Si finally heard a creak. The bamboo house door opened, and Cao Chuan strolled out.

Zhao Si darted over in two steps, bowed, and said: "This one is Zhao Si. The Great Lord ordered me to come sweep and clean."

Cao Chuan looked the young fellow over and recalled that this was the one who had let out the first loud shout yesterday, the one who had pointed back and forth at him. Not very old — seventeen or eighteen by the look of it — dark and lean, big eyes, a face full of quick-witted energy.

Cao Chuan smiled and said: "Then I'll trouble you, brother."

Zhao Si's face was full of excitement: "It's what this one ought to do, ought to do." His feet had already darted into the house.

Cao Chuan stood in place for a moment, took a few breaths of fresh air, and before long saw Accountant Lü coming over to greet him, clasping his fists in salute from far off.

A certain someone had been overexcited the night before and only fell asleep near daybreak. Now with bloodshot eyes, afraid the old man would press him with questions, he hurriedly sighed and said: "Alas, the spiritual qi of this place is thin and sparse. Last night this poor Daoist found his practice exceedingly difficult. The days of descending the mountain to train are not easy."

Accountant Lü hadn't expected Cao Chuan to be so bloodshot and haggard either. Hearing the reason, he was dumbfounded. A mere mortal like him could offer no advice, so at this moment he could only console Cao Chuan with a few words, then lead him off to find the Fort Master.

The two followed a mountain spring behind the house and slowly climbed upward. Not far along, they saw a large protruding slab of bluestone at the mountain's edge, smooth as a mirror. Great Boss Zhou was already seated there waiting.

Tables, chairs, and utensils had long been set out here: two plates of cured meat, one plate of bamboo shoot tips, one plate of wild mushrooms, and a clay stove on which rice porridge bubbled and rolled.

After the three were seated, Zhou Tong explained that ordinarily only the several chiefs came to sit here. Beside them was flowing spring water; in the distance, a sea of mist. It was both secluded and well-ventilated. In truth, most of the stronghold's affairs were decided on this Green Stone Terrace.

Cao Chuan naturally followed the host's lead, but his state of mind by now was vastly different from the day before. Truth be told, anyone with a private space — even here in the Great Ming — could live quite comfortably playing an immortal. Chatting with the few men over breakfast while holding such a mindset, he was naturally far more at ease.

This Zhou Tong was of the stronghold's direct line, had grown up in the back mountain since childhood, was magnanimous and loyal, and took responsibility in all matters. The Old Stronghold Master had accepted him as an adopted son, and a few years ago when the Old Stronghold Master was dying, he smoothly took over. Accountant Lü's official name was Lü Wenda. He looked old, but was actually not yet forty. His family home was in the Fuzhou countryside; his family was poor, so he had gone to a Daoist temple and served as a Daoist child for a few years — his name had even been given by the old Daoist.

He lingered at the Daoist temple until he was twenty, when the temple master threw him out to make his own way. So he then followed a wandering Daoist and began roaming the world. Master and disciple spent years drifting through several southern provinces, and Lü Wenda could be said to have learned a set of skills in healing the sick and telling fortunes.

A few years ago, master and disciple wandered to Mu Mountain. The master's allotted lifespan was exhausted. After Lü Wenda had handled the funeral affairs, it happened that the Old Stronghold Master was ill and he was invited up the mountain. As it turned out, he and the Old Stronghold Master hit it off at first meeting and talked with great delight, so he stayed on in the stronghold for a time.

As time passed, he found the stronghold to be rather harmonious and pleasant. Moreover, after years of wandering the rivers and lakes, he truly wished to settle down, so he formally took up the post of Accountant.

As they talked, that muddled man Chen Erye also came to eat. The moment he saw Cao Chuan he started shouting and hollering to bring out wine, and only settled down after Zhou Tong scolded him a couple of times. Cao Chuan laughingly asked how Second-in-Command Chen had joined the gang. Chen Huoding hemmed and hawed for ages, unwilling to speak. In the end, Accountant Lü told the story, and Cao Chuan listened, chuckling merrily.

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