Chapter 139: A New Beginning

Mid-November.

After I ruthlessly sent Ji Qianqian away.

One day, after capturing three little ghosts, I walked down a bright, narrow path under the cold, slanting moonlight. A cassia tree stood by the roadside, its branches shedding osmanthus flowers in silence.

Flowers bloom without a sound, leaves fall without a whisper.

Yet I could hear the voice within my heart. Suddenly, I felt the urge to find Xie Lingyu. Even if we were separated by the boundary of life and death, seeing her off one last time and helping her overcome her emotional tribulations would be a good thing.

Ji Qianqian was a love from my past, one that would never return. Like two shattered mirrors—though they may seem whole when pieced together, the cracks between them remain forever. And I should never have met her, much less brought disaster upon her. This is something I will never be able to change. I love you, my lost youth.

In Xie Lingyu’s room, I found a slip of paper with delicate handwriting: *”By the Buddha’s bone, the flowers of the other shore bloom.”* The final stroke of the character for “bloom” was left unfinished.

What did “Buddha’s bone” refer to? I couldn’t figure it out—perhaps something like Buddha’s relics.

Afraid Xie Lingyu might return, I did two things. First, I bought the house so that if she ever came back, she would see the messages I left. Since the neighboring house was rumored to be haunted, I got it for a steal—200,000 yuan, exactly the fee Xu Jun had paid me.

Second, I asked Yu Yuwei to continue running the flower shop. After all, Bai Meng Flower Shop was something Xie Lingyu and I had built together—I couldn’t let it close. She could keep all the profits for herself.

The $100,000 Dai Hao had given me had dwindled—8,000 was taken by the Wrinkled Old Woman, and after other expenses, about $80,000 remained. Gao Mo helped me exchange it into RMB, roughly 680,000 yuan—a windfall for me. I didn’t dare spend it recklessly, so I deposited it in the bank for emergencies.

Mid-November, Uncle Jianguo returned to Jiangcheng. After traveling across several provinces to handle his fallen comrade’s remains, a weight lifted from his heart. He called to thank me, and though I actually wanted to ask him to come with me, I went to meet him. Coincidentally, the street where his “Half-Immortal Coffin Shop” stood was slated for demolition, so Uncle Jianguo had time to spare and agreed.

When we met at the coffin shop, Uncle Jianguo seemed much more at ease.

*”Since you’ve lost your shop, why not come with me? I’ve got work,”* I said.

Uncle Jianguo took a drag from his cigarette, thinking. *”Alright. From now on, I’m following you, Half-Immortal.”* I burst out laughing.

When he asked where we were going, I told him—first, to see someone. That someone was Jiese. Since Uncle Jianguo had nothing else to do, he suggested calling his disciple to join us for a meal and meet me.

I hadn’t expected Uncle Jianguo to have a disciple. *”You actually have a disciple? That’s impressive.”*

Uncle Jianguo frowned. *”Haven’t you heard? ‘A master leads you to the door, but cultivation is up to the individual.’ I might not be much, but my disciple is something else. And I’ll tell you this—she’s a beauty.”*

I called Jiese to invite him to dinner—I also had questions for him. He hesitated, still struggling with the issue of Zhongli. His practice of the *Diamond Sutra* seemed wasted—using the power of Vajra to sever all attachments, to see through this illusory world.

*”All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, shadows, like dew or lightning—thus should they be contemplated.”* I understood the meaning, but realization was another matter.

I booked a table at Da Zhonghua. When Uncle Jianguo and I arrived, we ran into Gao Mo.

Gao Mo was shocked to see us together. *”Master, why are you with him?”* Then, glaring at me, she jabbed a finger in my face. *”What exactly is your relationship with Tutu? It’s shady—taking her to the hospital, her taking care of you every day…”*

I was annoyed. *”Gao Mo, you’re like the Pacific Ocean police—meddling in everything.”* I forced a laugh. *”There’s nothing between me and Chen Tutu. Just friends.”*

Uncle Jianguo, caught off guard by his disciple arguing with me, shook his head.

Guess that plan backfired.

Soon, Jiese arrived. He tried to avoid Gao Mo but was too late. She launched into another tirade, accusing him of having an unclear relationship with Zhongli.

Jiese chanted *”Amitabha”* over a hundred times and *”Mercy, mercy”* seventy more. Uncle Jianguo and I smoked and chatted, swapping strange stories. He mentioned how funeral customs varied wildly—some places along the Yellow River required professional mourners to wail so loudly that gossipers would be silenced.

Gao Mo finally exhausted herself and quieted down to eat. Jiese only had a bowl of rice.

*”You’ve already broken the precept against lust, yet you still pretend to abstain from meat?”* Gao Mo sneered.

Uncle Jianguo finally scolded her for being rude, then asked if she had a boyfriend. Gao Mo hastily piled food onto his plate. *”It’s so cold today—snow’s coming soon.”*

I grinned. *”It’s 19 degrees.”*

Gao Mo shot me a glare. Shoveling food into my mouth, I asked Jiese about the Buddha’s bone—he’d definitely know.

*”It’s at the Famen Temple, where I reside. The Buddha’s finger bone relic is enshrined there,”* Jiese said firmly.

Overjoyed, I realized it was the Famen Temple’s relic—things just got easier. Famen Temple, in Shaanxi’s Fufeng County, was famous, and Fufeng itself was renowned. With Jiese accompanying us, the journey would be much safer.

After the meal, Jiese, Uncle Jianguo, and I agreed to leave the next day. Gao Mo called Chen Tutu and Zhongli.

Back home, I packed and left a note for Xie Lingyu: *”Lingyu, I’m coming to find you. If you return, call me.”*

I took the peach-wood figurine, the courtesan painting that had appeared with Guo Furong in the red cabinet, the compass, and the jade ruler.

Over the past two months, I’d done one more thing—transcribed the *Compendium* into digital format, reinforcing my memory. The original was hidden away. I packed Little Rascal into a box—trains didn’t allow pets.

The next day, we met at Jiangcheng Railway Station. Gao Mo came to see Uncle Jianguo off. Jiese looked anxious, dreading seeing Zhongli.

Sometimes, the more you fear something, the more it happens. Zhongli arrived, asking if Jiese would return. I’d met her before—the teardrop mole under her eye marked a life of fleeting love, possibly destined for loneliness.

Jiese hesitated, silent. Zhongli stepped forward, stood on her toes, and kissed the tip of his nose. The young monk said nothing, letting the fleeting affection scatter in the cold wind.

*”Good. Good.”* That was all Zhongli said before walking away—perhaps forever.

Xie Xiaoyu, seemingly oblivious to human emotion, strode over and slapped Jiese across the face.

The sound was sharp and crisp.

Boarding time arrived, but Chen Tutu never came to say goodbye. My heart felt hollow. On the train, Jiese wept uncontrollably, snot and tears streaming as he clung to me.

I shoved him away.

Fifteen minutes after departure, I got a text from Chen Tutu:

*”Safe travels.”*

I replied: *”Thanks.”*

Uncle Jianguo laughed. *”You two—both stubborn fools.”* Little Rascal, hearing “dog bones,” barked twice from his crate.

With the Jade Corpse, our group totaled four—perfect for a soft-sleeper compartment. Once the door was closed, outsiders couldn’t see in. I took Little Rascal out and fed him two spiced eggs.

Uncle Jianguo suggested passing the time with a game of *Dou Dizhu*. I scoffed at Jiese, still sniffling. *”Pathetic.”*

Jiese gritted his teeth. *”Fine. Let the game drown my sorrows.”*

Pulling a deck from his pocket, he dealt with practiced ease. *”I don’t play much, but the little monks at Guiyuan Temple always drag me in. Small stakes—five yuan, three bombs max. And no triplets with pairs.”*

A few rounds later, Jiese was winning. I lost steadily until I brought out the peach-wood figurine. With Mo Bai’s help, I ended up 200 yuan ahead.

*”See? Now you know my worth,”* Mo Bai bragged. I tucked him away. *”Save the boasting. Uncle Jianguo hasn’t even started thinking yet.”*

Uncle Jianguo waved it off. *”Nah, I’m no good at *Dou Dizhu*. Mahjong’s more my speed. Next time.”*

Jiese perked up. *”Let’s play now! Xie Xiaoyu can join. The little monks at Guiyuan Temple play with me when they’re free.”* He dug out a mahjong set from his luggage.

Uncle Jianguo and I stared, baffled.

As dusk fell, the train reached Xiangyang, stopping for twenty minutes. Many passengers boarded. Uncle Jianguo and I stepped off to smoke and get some air.

That’s when we spotted Yi Miao rushing off the train, a long bag slung over his shoulder—probably holding his golden-thread whisk.

*”Yi Miao, what are you doing here?”* I offered him a cigarette.

He gave me a look but said little. *”Busy. Hunting a Silver Armored Corpse. The rivers and lakes are vast—see you if fate allows.”*

Huh? A *Silver Armored Corpse*?

Yi Miao vanished into the crowd. Watching his hurried steps, I called after him: *”Be careful!”*

All I got was his retreating back—a man as enigmatic as ever.

The twenty minutes flew by. After smoking, we returned to the compartment. From Xiangyang to Xi’an would take another ten hours. I dozed off.

At midnight, the train’s intercom crackled: *”Passengers, apologies for the disturbance. A child in Carriage 5 has a fever. If any doctors are aboard, please assist.”*

Uncle Jianguo rolled off his bunk and kicked me awake.

*”Let’s go check.”*