And where did the second brother carried the baby to? The market. In those days people were openly trafficked in the market without suffering much scrutiny and stigma. The man found a spot in the market, laid a piece of cloth on the ground and placed his nephew on it, himself kneeling just beside. Anyone walking past him would instantly realize that he was putting the baby up for sale. Before long, troupes of onlookers began clustering around curiously.
Oddly, the baby neither cried nor wailed. Some of the onlookers began teasing him, and he laughed adorably like a sacrificial lamb oblivious of its fate. Until suddenly, a manservant plowed through the crowd to make way for his master, a wealthy-looking merchant who had another servant following behind with a large pouch over his shoulder. The merchant marched forward and inquired the second brother of his plight that had led to such a pitiable decision to sell a child. Still on his knees, the second brother gave a deep bow
Sighing with exasperation, Mr. Lee shook his head. He rose from his seat and turned to walk out. He walked for a few paces and turned back suddenly, "Wait! You may not be able to divine a person's fate twice a day. But your apprentice can! Chongxi can do it for me again!" Yuan Chongxi burst out guffawing hard and remarked, "You are indeed a shrewd businessman, Mr. Lee. Your mind is truly quick to find loopholes to exploit!" Mr. Lee fished out a Suyan cigarette from its box and offered it to Yuan Chongxi, pleading, "Please, my boy. Just help me this time..." Yuan Chongxi took Mr. Lee's hand in his, patted it and said, "Very well. I'll have another go. Only for you. But please forgive my bluntness if I am too forthcoming about the outcome!" Revitalized with fresh hope, Mr. Lee slapped his chest and said, "Who do you think I am? I have had my share of great things myself! I will never be angered nor frightened by anything you will s
Old Man Chen had grown up an orphan boy since his youth, knowing only his teacher as a parent figure. Since his boyhood, his teacher had meticulously trained him in the skills of divination and had provided him with the essential fundamentals for his future. He would watch from the side and quietly test his skills whenever his teacher worked his magic for clients and patrons. As time passed, the boy grew up, and so did his skills. He began feeling more and more confident in his abilities and was proud of himself, until Fate grew jealous and vengeful. Old Man Chen was a boy of 12 that year, still an apprentice who followed his teacher everywhere. They had taken up lodging one night at a Taoist monastery when a call roused them from their rest. Religious faiths were viewed as one of the elements of the Four Olds during the height of the Cultural Revolution. A rowdy mob marched up the hills, each brandishing flaming brands in their hands, and arrived at the monastery to burn i
We had a look at each other, and Uncle Old Chen first said, "Yes, you can invite a master to do fortune-telling for you." I thought in my mind that you could do that. But now do your words mean that you don't want to do and push it to others? The grandmother didn't know his real meaning. Hearing what the old blind man said, she turned to other people sitting around the table and said, "Sorry to trouble you. Which master can fortune-tell for me? I'm so worried." Uncle Chen, an old blind man, was obviously reluctant to do it. Except for him, only my father, Chongxi and I could do, among us only my father was a master. At this time, however, my dad pointed to Yuan Chongxi and said, "He is the master. He can fortune-tell for you." What dad said astonished us all including Yuan Chongxi.The child's grandmother seemed didn't know how to react, and could only smiled. At this time, she must have thought in her mind, "He doesn't look like a
A wave of fear descended on me as what the old university guard said to me gradually sank in. Being in trade of dealing with the supernatural, it was hardly a coincidence that my first thoughts wondered that this might have been the doing of something otherworldly. With hurriedness and concern showing on my face, I muttered to the old man, "I must go up to have a look. My teacher..." But the old man stopped me in my tracks, saying, "She's no longer upstairs. She was the first to be stretchered off into the ambulance that day." I ignored the old man and immediately rushed towards the rooms where training lessons for zithers were held. "Why did no one notice the incongruity and queerness of all the sicknesses? Why was only the students and teachers of the zither class riddled with this strange sickness? Something must be wrong," I thought. As I walked through the doors of the classroom, I met head-on with a young lady whom I asked sharpl
The tunes of "Liu Qing Niang" (literally the Lady of the Green Willow) wafted heavily over the eaves of a zither lessons classroom in the university; the sad, sorrowful tune cast a blanket of gloom and melancholy across the whole room. Never did anyone expect that the instructor for zither lessons, Yang Na, would be urgently hospitalized that night after playing this song. A piece of a wooden block was unearthed from the ground; an ancient relic found during the excavation of the school grounds which was part of the university's recent expansion project. By a stroke of coincidence, the Archaeology lecturer was present, and he called out frantically for the construction workers to handle the wooden block with care. After cleaning it, it was discovered that it was the board of an ancient zither! The age-old instrument was then delivered to Yang Na, the lecturer in charge of Ethnomusicology, for further examination and study. Judging by the number of strings able to
Old Man Xie, as Xie Bingyi was affectionally known as within the walls of the Institute, was hardly a counselor there only because of his medical knowledge and healing abilities. The National Studies Institute, for all intents and purposes, was not a medical institution after all. Old Man Xie was there because of the hereditary wizardly healing skills he inherited from his forefathers—the mystical healing skills of Zhuyou (Shamanistic Healing). Although the technique of wishing is the first of the 13 subjects of ancient Chinese medicine, it is also a cure for the sick, but it is a thing of witchcraft, that is to say, it contains many methods for treating the evil spirits into the body. This is why Comrade Lao Xie can treat many intractable diseases. But this is also one of the reasons why Lao Xietou is not seen by his peers. Other old Chinese doctors chat about things like pharmacy. He is good. Just chatting is a matter of catching ghosts. Who is this? Still waiting for him
I was under the notion that Old Man Xie had refused the director's offer because he did not want any more relation to strangers. Even so, as we were on our way to the restaurant, the old man revealed to me that the dinner was only a guise for the director's ulterior motive. Then again, Old Man Xie's bizarre way of curing the patients had indeed sent ripples of wonders across everyone at the hospital. It should have been expected that they would most certainly want to know the truth behind the old man selection of the herb. With Lin Feng behind us, we followed the director's car and came to a restaurant. From the design of its outer facade, it seemed that the director had decided no price was too high to learn a thing or two from the great Xie Bingyi. The meal here would surely hardly be able to escape a three-figure bill. Once we got to the table, the director began pouring wine for Old Man Xie in earnest. "Master Xie," he said, "Your reputation precedes you.
Naturally, the person picking fruits would hardly be able to escape the senses of the tiger when it lunged for the wildfowl. The man would also end up as a game of the tiger's conquest to quench its hunger. Then again, the director and the chief physician understand nothing of the underlying message behind Old Man Xie's parable; their dazed expressions fully conveying their perplexity, as if waiting for the old man to give them the answer to his riddle. Old Man Xie scowled at the two men, sighing with his ire in full display and grumbled. "You still don't understand, do you? You nerds... For all the books you've been poring over... The beefsteak plant is the wildfowl that I tossed in to trigger the patients' immune system to kick in. Moreover, beefsteak plants have a poison of their own, although the amount of toxin they contain is hardly lethal. Villagers these days neither plant beefsteak plants for food nor for chicken food but as natural pesticides. They ward off bugs and i