The clouds after the rain lay exhausted in Mei Qing’s arms, sound asleep. Mei Qing, however, kept his eyes wide open, unable to fall asleep again.
This nightmare had haunted Mei Qing frequently for the past three years, and recently had become even more common. Each time, he dreamed of being trapped in eerie purple-blue flames that rendered him powerless to escape.
Mei Qing had lost his parents at an early age. Zhong Shu, a loyal retainer who had served his parents, took over the management of the entire household and raised Mei Qing. Fortunately, Mei Qing’s family was financially secure, and he inherited an official post early on, so he never had to worry about making a living.
Yet there was one matter that had turned Zhong Shu’s hair white with worry. Mei Qing had always been exceptionally intelligent—though perhaps not in the usual sense. His memory was extraordinary. Whatever someone taught him, he could remember permanently after just one lesson. Whether it was learning characters or recognizing people, once he saw something, he would never forget it again.
However, he was only capable of memorizing, not of applying what he had learned. More accurately, he seemed to lack independent consciousness—learning whatever was taught to him, yet unable to think for himself.
For example, if given a copy of “Complete Poems of the Tang Dynasty,” after reading it once and having it explained to him, he could fully understand and recite it aloud. But if asked to compose a poem of his own, although he was well-versed in poetic meter and rhythm, he was completely devoid of personal ideas, unable to write even a single line.
This was true of everything else as well. Over the years, Mei Qing had acquired an encyclopedic knowledge, yet he remained practically incapable of applying it. In daily life, he moved about like a soulless puppet, unaware of his identity or how to interact with others.
They had consulted countless physicians, all of whom were at a loss. According to them, Mei Qing’s symptoms basically resembled those of an idiot—though a clever one. Over the years, he had memorized medical texts so thoroughly that he knew them better than the doctors themselves. Some of the physicians, in a more diplomatic tone, described his condition as a wandering soul syndrome, caused by an incomplete spirit. Consequently, numerous prescriptions were written, and he had consumed what seemed like tons of medicine, yet without any noticeable effect.
In desperation, Zhong Shu had no choice but to invite every monk and Taoist priest in the capital, large or small, to perform rituals, exorcise demons, and summon spirits. That period at home was chaotic and tumultuous. Unfortunately, every possible method had been tried, yet Mei Qing remained a walking encyclopedia with a photographic memory, yet emotionally vacant and indecisive.
Because of this, although Mei Qing had inherited the title of Martial Virtue General, he had never officially assumed the post. Since the family was not short of money, Zhong Shu arranged for him to take a nominal position while he remained at home, feigning illness.
Then, three years ago, Mei Qing suddenly fell gravely ill, suffering from a high fever for many days, unconscious and unresponsive. Several renowned physicians consulted on his case all expressed pessimism, fearing that Mei Qing might not survive. Unexpectedly, after several days, Mei Qing gradually regained consciousness. Even more joyously, Zhong Shu was overjoyed to find that Mei Qing had suddenly become lucid, fully aware and self-conscious, suddenly behaving like a normal person.
Mei Qing himself could not explain what had happened. He only felt that the previous years had been like a dream, hazy and indistinct. This time, it was as if he had suddenly awakened, and many new thoughts had appeared in his mind, seemingly out of nowhere. For example, previously he had known little about ancient artifacts, but now, inexplicably, he could instantly recognize their intricacies upon seeing them.
At the time, Mei Qing’s sudden recovery caused quite a stir. Acquaintances of his parents all came to offer their congratulations. During a gathering hosted by an elder, while discussing the appreciation of antiques, Mei Qing unexpectedly identified several suspicious items among the host’s collection. His casual remark immediately stunned everyone present.
From then on, Mei Qing’s reputation in the antique circles of the capital steadily grew. With the country enjoying prolonged peace, aristocrats and high officials alike took great interest in collecting and appreciating ancient artifacts. Moreover, Mei Qing’s gentle and amiable personality allowed him to interact equally with people from all walks of life, further enhancing his reputation.
However, there were still some lingering issues after his recovery. First, the nightmares persisted, casting a shadow over his mind. Second, he occasionally found himself uttering words he did not understand himself, just as he had done that day. Fortunately, in public settings, he was careful enough to avoid any mishaps. These incidents only occurred at home, when he was with close companions. Doun and Zhong Shu had grown accustomed to this phenomenon and no longer found it strange.
Despite this, both Doun and Zhong Shu feared a relapse of Mei Qing’s old condition and thus never allowed him to travel far from home. Therefore, when Mei Qing returned home late that day, both Doun and Zhong Shu were extremely anxious. In contrast, Wuer, being still young, did not fully understand these concerns.
Shortly after Mei Qing’s recovery three years ago, he took Doun, who had served him since childhood, into his household. In response, Zhong Shu purchased a young maid to serve Mei Qing, intending to formally elevate Doun’s status in the future. However, Mei Qing had lost his parents at an early age and had spent years in his previous state of mental confusion, so no marriage had been arranged for him. Later, although he had regained his senses, most families hesitated to marry into his household due to concerns about his condition. Thus, even now, he remained without a proper wife, and Doun continued to serve him as a maid.
Zhong Shu naturally felt guilty about this, believing he had failed to properly arrange his young master’s future. Mei Qing, however, remained unconcerned, showering Doun with affection and care. If not for Doun’s own insistence otherwise, Mei Qing would have likely married her outright.
Doun, of course, was devoted to Mei Qing without reservation. Yet Zhong Shu often muttered that Mei Qing, being a noble fifth-rank general, should marry someone of equal social standing. Mei Qing, however, chose to ignore such remarks.
Now, as Mei Qing gazed at Doun sleeping peacefully in his arms, moonlight filtered through the bed curtains, softly illuminating her smooth forehead and straight nose, making her appear as pure as jade.
He faintly recalled his earlier days, when he had wandered about in a daze, yet remembered everything. Back then, his family had summoned countless Taoist priests and spiritual mediums, with a new “master” appearing at their home every few days to perform rituals. Each time, while the “masters” danced and chanted outside, Mei Qing and Doun would sit inside, watching. Doun would kneel devoutly in the room, praying to the Bodhisattva, the Three Pure Ones, the Jade Emperor, and even the Yellow Immortal of the Southern Mountains and the Earth God of the Northern Village, begging them all to restore the young master’s health. Mei Qing would sit beside her, staring blankly at Doun’s beautiful face, completely unaware of what was happening or why.
Looking at her long lashes now, Mei Qing recalled how Doun had looked during those prayers—her eyes closed, her lashes gently lowered. A wave of tenderness surged through his heart, making him feel that the woman in his arms was indescribably endearing. Unable to resist, he gently kissed her forehead.
A few days ago, when Mei Qing had another nightmare, Doun had again suggested inviting a Taoist priest to perform a ritual to dispel evil spirits. That girl was full of old-fashioned superstitions—though the phrase itself was unfamiliar to him, causing his thoughts to wander again…
Mei Qing had no desire to sleep. As his mind roamed, he recalled the Taoist priest he had seen performing rituals that day, waving a copper bell and brandishing a peach-wood sword. It reminded him of those old days.
Peach wood! Suddenly, Mei Qing remembered the strange detail about the inkstone case he had seen today: that case had definitely been made of peach wood!
Although peach wood was common, its uses were quite limited. Traditionally, in Chinese culture, peach wood was used for only one purpose—warding off evil spirits.
Since ancient times, people had believed in this. Thus, peachwood charms were traditionally hung to repel evil. Taoist priests often used peach wood to craft seals, talismans, wooden swords, and axes—apart from the legendary thunderwood of jujube trees. However, peach wood was rarely used in everyday household items.
When he had seen that inkstone case earlier, Mei Qing had found it strange. Typically, the wooden cases for high-quality inkstones were made of sandalwood, rosewood, or huanghuali. In the south, some were made of red sandalwood, walnut wood, or ironwood. But he had never seen one made of peach wood before. Although the material had seemed familiar, he had not immediately recognized it.
Just now, thinking about the Taoist priest’s peach wood sword, he suddenly realized the inkstone case must have been made of peach wood. But this was puzzling—why would someone use peach wood for an inkstone case?
Mei Qing’s thoughts became muddled again. After a long while, he finally felt drowsy and drifted off to sleep.
He had been awakened in the early hours by his nightmare, then made passionate love to Doun, and gone to bed late. Thus, the next morning, he awoke later than usual.
Doun had already risen early and, together with Wuer, helped Mei Qing dress and wash up. Then, she brought him a bowl of porridge and two simple vegetarian dishes. After a light breakfast, Mei Qing slowly made his way out of the house, heading toward the Confucius Temple area.
Because he had left home later than usual, the sun was already high when he arrived at the teahouse, which was already full of customers. Mei Qing greeted familiar tea guests along the way and reached his usual table, where he saw Wang Shigu sitting with a fan in hand, clearly impatient.
“Good morning, Brother Wang. I overslept today. Has Li the Scholar not arrived yet?” Mei Qing signaled to the tea server and sat down at his usual seat.
“You’re telling me! Today I’m all alone. Liu the Scarred and you were both missing, and Li hasn’t shown up either. I’ve been left all by myself!” Wang Shigu grumbled. Then he leaned forward, lowering his voice to whisper, “Mei, tell me honestly—was that item you brought yesterday from the Tang Dynasty’s Yue Kiln? I didn’t think much of it at the time, but afterward, reflecting on your discerning eye, I realized you wouldn’t bring anything inferior.”
Mei Qing smiled and replied, “Brother Wang, your eye is sharp indeed. However, this item isn’t valuable for its antiquity, but rather for its rarity. I chose that Yue Kiln piece simply because my collection lacked such an item. As for true value, it cannot compare to your piece. Your discerning eye has truly improved.”
Hearing this, Wang Shigu’s mouth stretched into a wide grin, clearly delighted. “Of course! What’s even funnier is Li the Scholar—he’s just a country bumpkin who only goes for big things. He picked out a huge vase, yet completely missed the treasure right beside it. If you don’t believe me, he’s probably hugging that vase at home, admiring it. Otherwise, how come he hasn’t shown up by now?”
Mei Qing smiled without responding. At that moment, the tea server brought his tea. As he nodded in thanks and was about to speak, a sudden scream echoed from outside: “Murder! Help!”
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage