Chapter 86: Chance Encounter on the Road (Requesting Moon Tickets)

“Younger brothers and sisters...”

Third Brother took several tāguǒ from the bamboo basket, handed one each to Lin Jue and the youngest sister, then plopped down amid the fallen leaves, pulled out his wine gourd, and took the first bite of the tāguǒ.

“I always feel the tāguǒ your brother made tastes better than the ones sold down the mountain!”

“It’s just because we use good meat and aren’t stingy with the ingredients.” Lin Jue sat on the ground holding his tāguǒ, yet still looked up at the sky.

“That’s the spirit! Hmm, just a bit dry!” Third Brother said, tilting his wine gourd for a deep swallow, then smiled contentedly, shaking his head as he murmured, “One cup to ponder tomorrow’s affairs, bidding farewell to the setting sun as the moon rises again—the autumn wind as wine, perfect indeed!”

“Brother...”

“Here—”

“No, it looks like it’s about to rain,” Lin Jue said, ignoring the wine gourd Third Brother generously offered. “Shouldn’t we find better shelter before the rain comes?”

“Really? Just a light drizzle?”

“Heavy rain.”

“How do you know?”

“From alchemy.”

“Huh? Does alchemy have this function too?”

“Yes.”

Alchemy requires attention to the time of day, solar terms, and weather conditions; though Lin Jue couldn’t predict the future, he had developed a keen sense of judgment when the moment arrived.

The three held their tāguǒ and looked up at the sky together.

Sure enough, shortly after, the once-white sky darkened considerably; thick clouds, like chaotic ink splashes, drifted haphazardly across the heavens, now converging into a single mass.

It was clear a heavy rain was coming.

Third Brother scratched his head.

Suddenly, a gong rang out.

All three lowered their heads and turned toward the sound.

It was already past dusk; the mountain’s light had dimmed greatly. The only path wide enough for a cart wound through the forest, leading nowhere in particular, growing darker the farther one looked. No one followed from behind, but ahead, a caravan slowly approached.

The gong’s sound came from there.

The daylight was too dim; only when they drew closer could they make out details.

This group was quite large—

Two young attendants led the way, each carrying a golden gong, striking it twice every few steps; behind them rode two sturdy retainers on chestnut horses; then came a carriage pulled by two horses, accompanied by four boys and four maidservants, with four more men trailing behind.

The three beneath the tree exchanged glances.

The fox stared at them with keen curiosity.

“Spirit?”

The youngest sister noticed something odd and whispered, “Is that...?”

“No,” Third Brother said, “There must be a village up the mountain, a wealthy household. Don’t be rude.”

“Can we ask for directions?” Lin Jue also stared ahead.

“I suppose so?”

“Then let’s ask.” Lin Jue’s eyes gleamed, “Otherwise the rain might ruin our pills and rare herbs.”

“You’re the reliable one. Next time you be the senior brother.”

“Fine.”

As the caravan drew near, Lin Jue picked up his sword, stepped out of the tree’s shade, and walked onto the path to wait.

The sky was truly dark; beneath the trees, darker still. Only when the Daoist stepped onto the road did the caravan notice him—they halted immediately, studying him, then turned to look behind.

“Why stop?”

A voice came from inside the carriage.

The curtain was pulled aside, and an old man leaned out.

“Hmm?” The old man looked at him in surprise, “It’s so late—why are you alone on this mountain path, Daoist?”

“Respected sir, greetings.” Lin Jue bowed, then added, “We are lazy and foolish, failed to plan our route properly, and ended up halfway up the mountain as night fell—no village ahead, no inn behind. We thought it was still mid-autumn, not yet cold, and planned to spend the night outdoors. But the sky now suggests rain is coming. Seeing your procession, we came to ask—is there an inn nearby?”

Behind them, beneath the trees, the youngest sister sat upright but couldn’t help glancing sideways at Third Brother.

Third Brother looked back at her.

Their eyes met; she snapped her gaze back forward like a startled bird.

“Oh my! It really is about to rain!” The old man looked up at the sky, his expression kind, “Where are you from?”

“From this side.”

“From this side, heading that way? Oh dear, you’ll have to reach Huai Shu Dian for lodging—that’s still thirty li away. Even walking fast, it’ll take an hour and a half.” The old man was kindhearted; he paused, squinted at the young Daoist, saw his youthful face, and felt pity. “You’ll have to stay overnight in a nearby village.”

“Please, sir, guide us.”

“Walk straight ahead about two li. You’ll pass the first earthen beacon. Shortly after, on your right, there’s a narrow path—follow it, and you’ll reach our village.”

“Can we stay overnight there?”

“The villagers are pure and kind—they’ll let you stay.” The old man smiled warmly. “The village is surnamed Zhang. There’s a wealthy household there—ah, they’re good people, quite well-off, fond of doing good deeds. It’s the house at the village entrance. Go straight there. Say you were sent by Zhang Yuande.”

“That’s perfect!”

Lin Jue’s eyes lit up:

“Thank you, sir!”

“Daoist, you’re too kind. Walk faster—you might still make it in time for a good meal.”

“Thank you, thank you!”

Lin Jue bowed respectfully, stepped aside, and waited as they passed.

Turning back, he saw the fox already beside him; Third Brother and the youngest sister had packed their gear and led the donkey out from under the trees.

“See?”

Third Brother chuckled. “I told you—when the cart reaches the mountain, a path appears; when the boat reaches the bridge, it naturally crosses. Why worry so much?”

The two exchanged glances but said nothing.

The sky grew darker still.

Lin Jue pulled out a tiny lantern—no bigger than a palm—and whispered two incantations. The lantern glowed to life. He hung it on a long pole in front of the donkey.

The youngest sister stared at him, puzzled—

How was it that, though she trained with him every day, he somehow kept learning new spells without her noticing?

The light only illuminated a small patch ahead.

The group continued forward.

A pavilion every ten li, a beacon every five li.

Two li was just a bend in the mountain path.

Sure enough, they spotted an earthen beacon.

Beyond it, a narrow path led to a village behind the mountain.

By the time the sky grew so dim even distant mountains vanished into shadow, they saw distant lights—and faint, drifting sounds of music, wailing, and crying.

The closer they came, the clearer the sounds became.

It was a house at the village entrance, lit by lanterns, holding a funeral ceremony inside and outside its ancestral hall.

The group exchanged glances, then approached with their lantern.

“Is this the home of Zhang Yu?”

The neighbors helping out were startled by the sudden arrival of the Daoists and hurried to summon the household head.

The household head himself was confused.

“Daoist, what is this? Oh! We’ve already hired a Daoist to conduct the rites.” The man wiped tears from his face.

A few raindrops fell on them.

“Sir, you misunderstand—we’re not here to interfere with another’s ritual,” Third Brother said, ignoring the falling rain. “We are Daoists from Yishan, traveling far. We were caught by sudden weather and wished to avoid the rain. We heard this household was kind, so we came seeking shelter for the night.”

“Yishan?”

“The mountain in Yixian.”

“Yixian?” Zhang Yu frowned. “That’s so far away. How do you know of us? Did you know us before?”

“We’ve never met before,” Third Brother replied honestly. “We met an old gentleman on the road—surnamed Zhang, name Yuande. We asked him for directions, and he told us to come here for lodging.”

“Ah?”

The man’s face turned pale with shock.

Shock gave way to anger.

“What are you saying?”

“We meant no offense.”

“You Daoist! My family has long been known far and wide for charity. If you’d come to ask for shelter politely, even if my father had just died, we’d have given you a room. But you mock my dead father!”

Hearing this, the youngest sister behind them gasped.

But Third Brother remained calm, bowing again:

“No, no—we Daoists of Yishan have true transmission. We do not lie. We truly met your father’s procession on the road, and he himself guided us here.”

He paused, then added:

“Was your father a man with a goatee reaching his chest? Did his procession include four attendants carrying golden gongs, four horses, two mounted retainers, four boys, four maidservants, and a carriage pulled by two horses?”

The man froze in shock.

Not just he—everyone behind him was stunned.

They asked each other, and everything matched perfectly.

Astonished, they dared not doubt, and hurriedly welcomed them as honored guests into their home, treating them with great hospitality.

This place was still within Huizhou’s borders, with white walls and blue tiles; the pillars of the main hall were adorned with many couplets, the most prominent of which read:

To raise virtuous descendants, begin by honoring your ancestors;

To glorify your family line, study and accumulate goodness.

Beside the main hall stood a table, a lantern hanging askew, on it a single oil lamp, several steaming meat dishes, and a jug of homemade cloudy liquor; the three were silently eating.

A circle of people had gathered around them.

Outside, a torrential rain had already begun.

Tago was delicious, certainly, but it was dry rations; warm, it was tolerable, but cold, its quality dropped sharply. No matter how well-made dry rations were, how could they compare to steaming wine and meat?

Whether neighbors come to help the Zhang family or Zhang’s own descendants, upon hearing this news, all were astonished and intrigued, rushing over to gather around them.

“Where did you gentlemen meet my father?”

“Not far ahead.”

“May I ask—may I ask—how is my father?”

“No need to worry; your father is well,” said Third Senior Brother, wiping oil from his lips, then lifting the liquor jug to drink. “He walked the official road, with all his burial goods in tow—no ordinary man receives such treatment. It seems your father did much good in life, hence his favorable reception in the afterlife.”

“Yes, yes, yes…”

The crowd was both delighted and quickly wiped away tears.

“How did my father speak to you gentlemen?”

“Your father was very kind…”

Lin Jue recounted every detail of his conversation with the old master—the old man’s expressions, tone, and subtle nuances of his accent.

Upon hearing it, everyone confirmed it matched perfectly.

They no longer dared to disturb their meal, instead instructing the women to prepare beds for them, and the younger ones to feed the donkeys, then dispersing to attend to their duties.

The three soon finished eating.

“Ah, saved another meal of Tago,” Third Senior Brother chuckled. “See? If you hadn’t followed me, where would you have encountered such a thing? Where would you have eaten such a meal? You’d probably be gulping down gruel somewhere.”

Under the oil lamp, the two exchanged glances.

The Youngest Sister said nothing, but her expression turned peculiar.

Lin Jue too fell into thought.

The sounds of music and drums outside, mingling with the rain, kept coming.

…

The next morning, they bid farewell to the Zhang family.

The old master’s eldest son, Zhang Yu, inherited his father’s kindness and hospitality; he refused all money offered for lodging and even packed some steamed buns to give them.

“Eat them on the road.”

“Thank you, layperson!” said Third Senior Brother. “By the way, which way to Yuanzhou?”

“Yuanzhou?”

“Yes…”

“Though we travel farther than villagers, we’ve never been to Yuanzhou,” Zhang Yu mused. “But I have a cousin who once traded near Niaoshu Mountain—he mentioned once that after reaching Niaoshu Mountain, you take the waterway to Yuanzhou; that’s the best route. Waterways are always easier than land.”

“And how do you get to Niaoshu Mountain?”

“Take the main road, turn right, and keep walking—several days’ journey, and you’ll need to ask directions several times.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

The three entered the ancestral hall, stood before the old master’s coffin, and respectfully offered three incense sticks, then departed, continuing their journey toward Yuanzhou’s Mingchou Mountain.

Along the way, many strange events occurred, and spirits and demons appeared.

Several days later, they inquired about Niaoshu Mountain.

They sought a waterway, looking for a dock.