Upon hearing the Taoist priest’s words, everyone involuntarily paused their chopsticks halfway to the catfish. Hou Shen had never liked this old priest, and now that the priest had practically challenged him directly, there was no need to hold back. He immediately stood up and said, “Hey, old Taoist, what do you care if we eat catfish? Who says they can’t be eaten?”
However, the old Taoist priest acted as if he hadn’t heard a word, still gazing upward at the ceiling, and continued speaking to himself, “Sigh, as for catfish, their flesh is tender and delicious—truly a top-notch delicacy. Particularly rare is the soft meat and delicate bones at the tail, which are especially delicious. Alas—sigh—”
As he spoke, the old priest raised his teacup and took a proper sip before shaking his head and continuing, “The catfish has a particularly ravenous mouth. People say big fish eat small fish, small fish eat shrimps, and shrimps eat mud. But catfish don’t just eat small fish—they especially love rotting, decaying flesh! Alas—”
Huang the Fat, upon hearing this, noticed others in the tavern also nodding in agreement with the priest’s words, and his face began to change. His chopsticks had long since stopped moving. Beside him, Hou Shen snorted and said, “So what? These are just ordinary river fish, not koi from the imperial pond. How picky can their diet be? If you’re trying to disgust people, it’s quite tasteless.”
The priest still refused to look at Hou Shen directly, shaking his head as he continued, “Even eating dead fish wouldn’t be so bad. But catfish have another terrible habit—they especially love to eat corpses!”
With that, he glanced at Mei Qing and the others with narrowed eyes, stroking his mustache and saying, “The Taoist priest has heard that whenever the river floods, the water often overflows and submerges unmarked graves in the wilderness. The catfish swim in groups to these graveyards, crawling through holes in the tombs to feast on the corpses inside. They grow fat and bloated, and when the waters recede, they get stuck inside the coffins. Locals then scoop them out one by one and sell them to taverns—”
Before he could finish, Huang the Fat’s small eyes had already bulged. His chubby hands clutched his chest, and he looked like he was about to vomit any second.
“Master Taoist!” the waiter interjected, rushing over and loudly saying, “Please be kind with your words. The ingredients in our shop are all clearly sourced. Our catfish come directly from honest fishermen, not from graveyards!”
“Of course, of course,” the old priest nodded repeatedly. “The Taoist priest naturally understands. I wasn’t referring to your establishment at all. In fact, I used to love eating catfish myself—”
Then, turning his head toward Mei Qing and the others, the priest said, “Take this fellow here,” pointing at Huang the Fat, “he and I must share the same taste. But—”
The priest shook his head and sighed, “Once, our neighbor Old Liu went fishing and accidentally fell into the river and drowned. When the villagers finally fished him out, they discovered three or four large catfish had already wriggled into his pants, chewing his legs down to the bone. It was a terrible sight… After that, I never ate catfish again.”
At this, Huang the Fat couldn’t hold it in any longer. He barely turned his head before vomiting violently.
“You cow-nosed Taoist!” Hou Shen immediately jumped up, pointing at the priest and shouting, “Are you asking for a beating?!”
“What are you talking about?” the priest said with a look of innocence. “Where did the Taoist priest say anything wrong? Why would the hero want to teach me a lesson?”
Hou Shen was momentarily speechless. From the waiter’s angry but also frustrated expression and the reactions of others at nearby tables, it was clear the priest’s words were mostly true. But bringing this up in a tavern was deliberately trying to disgust people.
“Hou Shen,” Mei Qing gently stopped him, saying calmly, “We’ve eaten enough. Waiter, settle the bill!”
Hou Shen glared at the old priest angrily but said nothing more. After paying, he followed Mei Qing downstairs.
Looking at the retreating figures of Mei Qing and his companions, the old priest chuckled twice and said, “Remember, the gods are watching from three feet above your head. Young man, I see your forehead is darkened and your aura is gloomy—you may face some trouble soon. Don’t act recklessly or you may invite disaster.”
Mei Qing stopped, slowly turned his head to look at the old priest, smiled, and said, “Meeting a noble Taoist like you, naturally my forehead darkens and my aura dims. I appreciate your concern, but you needn’t trouble yourself with my affairs. However, if you keep going about things this way, you may invite trouble even sooner.”
With that, he bowed slightly, then without looking back, he led everyone downstairs.
The old priest watched Mei Qing leave, shaking his head and chuckling coldly twice. Turning around, he saw the waiter coming to clear the table, still pouting. He quickly stopped him and said, “Forget it, waiter. You saw how those people must be spoiled brats. They didn’t even touch the catfish before throwing it away—it’s such a waste. As a man of the Way, I can’t bear to see such behavior. I’ll just eat it for them!”
Saying this, he sat down and, without even using chopsticks, grabbed a catfish and began devouring it hungrily.
The waiter watched in stunned disbelief, stammering, “But Master Taoist, didn’t you just say earlier that after seeing your neighbor Old Liu’s body eaten by catfish, you stopped eating them forever?”
The priest didn’t even look up, saying, “That’s certainly true. I definitely stopped eating them. But later, I became a monk. To a monk, all beings are equal. Whether a catfish eats corpses or not, it’s all the same to me. So, after becoming a monk, I started eating them again!”
The waiter scratched his head, puzzled, and said, “Aren’t those Buddhist teachings about equality? As a Taoist, shouldn’t you believe that all things are like straw dogs?”
“You’re actually pretty insightful for a waiter,” the priest said while eating. “Actually, I was once a Buddhist monk. When I did bad things, I always did them under the guise of being a monk.”
“So remember, someone like me, a Taoist priest, would never do bad things. If anyone does bad things, it must be a Buddhist monk!” As he said this, the priest loudly declared to the waiter while devouring fish, just as a bald old monk walked up the stairs.
After leaving the tavern, Mei Qing and his companions felt a heavy gloom in their hearts. Their journey had already been plagued with setbacks, and the disturbance upstairs had only added to their frustration.
After a moment’s thought, Mei Qing said, “Brother Huang, perhaps it’s better if we no longer travel together. We should split up and investigate separately. You take Yao and Zhou, go directly to the government office in Yifeng, reveal your identities, investigate the incense sect, and also summon members of the Zhang family to question them about Yang Jin’s affairs. Earlier, I heard the fisherwoman singing a folk tune that was simple yet elegant. I suspect the Mr. Shi who composed it must be no ordinary man. I will take Hou Shen and go meet this Mr. Shi—he may offer us some valuable insights.”
Huang Zhongman had long been tired of Mei Qing’s undercover methods. Hearing this plan, he readily agreed. The group then split into two parties. Huang the Fat, accompanied by Yao Dingguo and Zhou Chang, set off for Yifeng. Mei Qing and Hou Shen hired a small boat and sailed downstream along the Ru River.
It was mid-autumn. The sky was a clear, flawless blue, like the finest celadon porcelain. On both sides of the river, pine and cypress trees covered the mountains, their lush greenery swaying gently in the breeze. Occasionally, a waterfall cascaded down the cliffs like a silver ribbon. Below the cliffs, small villages were filled with persimmon trees. Their leaves had turned a deep red, creating a breathtaking view like clouds of crimson.
The Ru River rushed swiftly between two mountain ridges. The river was emerald green, flowing like an arrow, carrying the small boat forward at great speed. Standing at the bow, Mei Qing saw the towering cliffs on either side like gates, and ahead, the endless expanse of water meeting the sky. A cool breeze blew against his face, and droplets of water sprayed like scattered pearls and jade, misting his hair and cheeks, instantly lifting the gloom from his heart. He couldn’t help but let out a long, joyous whistle.
After passing through the narrow gorge, the river curved ahead into a vast plain, with no more mountains blocking the way. The river widened, its rushing current softened, and the view opened into a boundless expanse of shimmering water meeting the horizon, with golden fish scales glimmering in the sunlight.
The elderly boatman, seeing Mei Qing’s joyous whistle, also felt delighted. As the current eased, he casually steered with one hand and, in a hoarse but cheerful voice, sang:
“The Ru River winds its way,
Its long waters kissed by sunlight;
Beneath, dragons lie hidden,
Above, clouds and mist drift high.
A traveler follows his whim,
His iron flute echoing midstream;
From here, he enters the Isles of the Immortals,
Where sages await his company.
Drunk, he forgets the night,
Reclining at ease on the boat’s bow;
Cool winds fill his heart,
The moon dances on the waves.
Returning to pavilions and halls,
His spirit still feels refreshed.”
Mei Qing, listening to the boatman’s spirited singing, couldn’t help but applaud, saying, “What a fine song! I didn’t expect you, sir, to be such a hidden master.”
The boatman laughed heartily, saying, “You flatter me, young man. I’m just an old man who rows boats and catches fish. I’m no master. This song was written by Mr. Shi from the harbor. Sometimes when he rides my boat, he sings it, and I’ve just picked up a few lines.”
“Oh?” Mei Qing smiled and said, “In fact, I’m heading to visit Mr. Shi. I didn’t expect you to know him so well.”
The boatman laughed again, “I could tell that was your intention. Everyone who comes to the harbor is here to visit Mr. Shi.”
Taking this opportunity, Mei Qing struck up a conversation with the boatman.
It turned out that Mr. Shi’s name was Mengzhu, and he was a native of Yongping Harbor. The Shi family had once been a prominent local clan, but by Mr. Shi’s generation, the family had dwindled, leaving only one son. Shi Mengzhu had lost his father at a young age but was exceptionally bright, reading widely and deeply. He passed the imperial examinations, served briefly in an official post, but later retired from government service due to his mother’s old age and his discomfort with the corruption of officialdom.
“Mr. Shi is such a good person. Despite his great learning, he treats us common folk with great kindness. Whenever local officials try to bully the villagers, he always stands up for us,” the boatman said with evident admiration.
“Oh? Don’t the officials give him any trouble?” Mei Qing asked.
“Mr. Shi has powerful connections and many influential friends. Who dares to offend him? Even the notorious incense sect, which caused so much chaos recently, dared not provoke him,” the boatman replied with a smile.
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