Starting from the next day, Qingxu Monastery began receiving pilgrims from all directions. The villagers, having narrowly escaped disaster, were still shaken to the core, and so they came with particular diligence. Many also requested deity statues to bring home and enshrine. Rong Chen Zi was inevitably called upon to preside over the consecration ceremonies for these statues. He was worried about He Bang, yet also feared failing the villagers’ sincere devotion to the Dao. In the end, it was Qingxuan who suggested that whenever Rong Chen Zi was conducting a ritual, He Bang be placed inside the great cauldron at the center of the ritual ground.
The original thinking was that the Eight Trigrams cauldron was about half a person’s height deep — she would have somewhere to play, and besides, she couldn’t crawl out. But she seemed to dislike the place entirely, crying and whimpering inside it day after day. This creature had been born no different from an ordinary river clam; the one innate skill she possessed from birth was the ability to cry. Rong Chen Zi could not very well comfort her in front of his disciples and the pilgrims, yet his concentration was completely thrown into disarray. Occasionally, in the middle of a lecture or doctrinal discussion, he would suddenly forget his next words.
Ye Tian had nothing to do anyway, so she stepped in to relieve Rong Chen Zi — whenever he was occupied, she kept He Bang company and played with her.
If one could say that Ye Tian had previously felt no fondness for this river clam, she now utterly despised her to the bone. She had never known a river clam could be this insufferably tedious — the creature spent every day crawling back and forth across the floor, never still for a single moment. What was more frightening was that the shell seemed to be in a constant itch, clamping onto this thing or that. And she had a technique to her clamping — no matter what the material, she always seemed to know exactly how to grip it so that it would break most easily.
Ye Tian wanted to scold her, but she couldn’t understand human speech; she wanted to smack her, but she was afraid of cracking the shell. She was so furious she could spit fire.
Rong Chen Zi had arranged everything for her in meticulous detail: feed water once every two hours, one small bowl each time. Before each feeding, dissolve a Water Clarity talisman and add two spoonfuls of sugar. Even at this frequency, the clam was forever hunting for water sources, and the moment one’s attention slipped, she would try to crawl away.
Ye Tian had never raised a child, but just watching this river clam every day was utterly exhausting. He Bang had by now grown to the size of a palm, yet Ye Tian was still terrified of stepping on her, watching over her each day as one would watch a three-year-old. Ye Tian swore she had never been this worn out even when keeping an eye on her Second Senior Brother’s pill-refining furnace. Her midday naps had been entirely sacrificed.
And still the river clam was unhappy. The moment Ye Tian’s attention wandered, that wretched clam would crawl toward the doorway.
It was Qingxuan who, seeing how much his Martial Aunt was troubled, came up with an idea — give her a toy that could withstand clamping and was novel enough to perhaps keep her quiet. After consulting with his junior martial brothers for quite some time, the disciples of Qingxu Monastery pooled their signature skills and wove many grasshoppers, roosters, crickets, and other creatures out of reeds and cogon grass. He Bang was absolutely delighted. Qingsu then led his junior brothers in folding a pile of little pigs, little rabbits, and the like, giving her something to play with from morning to night.
Every day in Ye Tian’s room, she would either crawl back and forth gripping a paper rice dumpling, or clamp down ferociously on a grass grasshopper, biting it with all her might. True enough, she no longer spent the whole day plotting her escape. Ye Tian also let out a breath of relief, and was able to steal a few moments to doze or nap with considerably more peace of mind.
Then in one careless moment, He Bang’s delicate little foot-muscle was cut by a blade of cogon grass. This finally calmed her down — for half the day she retracted entirely into her shell and did not move at all. Ye Tian was like a cat that had knocked over a flower vase, restless with anxiety. After all, her Senior Brother had entrusted her to look after the clam, and yet she had let her cut her foot. She broke precedent and fed He Bang an extra bowl of water; the clam retreated into her shell and would not come out, and when she drank, her crying was at least a little softer.
Ye Tian was afraid Rong Chen Zi would find out and reprimand her, so she secretly fed He Bang several more bowls. The more the clam drank, the more she wanted to drink, and gradually she became considerably more well-behaved.
Ye Tian dusted off her hands, feeling that raising a river clam was really not so difficult after all — just give her enough water. The moment this clam went without water she would cry, and so Ye Tian had, without quite realizing it, fed her a great deal. When Rong Chen Zi finished evening prayers with his disciples and came to Ye Tian’s room to collect He Bang, he felt that she seemed somehow less lively than usual.
But thinking that the disciples had folded her so many toys and she had probably played herself to exhaustion, he did not pay it much mind. Ye Tian was naturally feeling guilty, and in no position to say much.
That night, after Rong Chen Zi finished his meditation, he cradled He Bang in his arms. The clam stayed retracted into her shell and did not stir. He gently stroked the fine, intricate ridges on her shell: “Stop crawling all over the place day and night… grow up quickly. Once you’re well again, I’ll take you down the mountain to see the temple fair.”
He Bang paid him no attention. In the evenings she would still blow a few bubbles. Rong Chen Zi simply thought she was low on energy, and said nothing more to her. He circled her with his arm, closed his eyes, and rested. In the middle of the night, he felt his sleeve turn cold, reached out and felt it — a patch had been soaked through. Thinking He Bang was being mischievous, he lightly patted her shell: “Go to sleep properly.”
But the clam shell under his palm opened again, and she spat out more water. Rong Chen Zi sat up and wrapped himself in his robe, turned the wall lamp brighter, and examined her closely — only then did he realize she was vomiting. He pointed at He Bang and scolded: “You snuck water to drink?”
He Bang seemed deeply uncomfortable. Her shell opened and closed, and she spat out another small puddle of water.
Rong Chen Zi dared not delay any longer. He immediately lit the oil lamp on the table, wrapped He Bang in a damp cloth, and held her at a distance from the flame to warm her. The water was expelled quickly, but the river clam seemed utterly terrified — her crying no longer sounded like crying at all, but more like the sharp shriek of a night owl. Even Rong Chen Zi was startled. He hastily set her back on the bed; her entire shell was shaking violently. Rong Chen Zi pressed her against his chest, and after regulating his breathing for a moment, he used the Mystic Heaven Talisman-Fire technique to expel the excess water from her body.
After channeling his power continuously for two hours, Rong Chen Zi was drenched in sweat from head to toe. Only then did He Bang begin to feel better and started blowing bubbles again.
The next day, Rong Chen Zi slept until late morning. The young Daoist disciples, rarely seeing their master sleep in, assumed the river clam had recovered her human form. When Rong Chen Zi handed He Bang back to Ye Tian, he gave careful instructions: “Do not let her touch water, and do not over-feed her. She does not know when she is full, so measure it out carefully. Also, don’t let her play with anything too small — she vomited up several grass-woven dragonflies yesterday.”
Ye Tian had a guilty conscience and naturally dared not say more. She removed from the room all toys that could cut He Bang or that she might swallow. Qingxuan and Qingsu put their heads together, then led the junior disciples in weaving some toys from red cord, all made large — at least too large for her shell to contain. This barely resolved the problem of He Bang’s need for mental entertainment.
The wound on He Bang’s foot-muscle refused to heal. Ye Tian was terrified Rong Chen Zi would notice, yet could find no way to treat it. Fortunately, Qingzhen made turtle-dove and winter mushroom soup every day, and as long as that creature had soup to drink, she had no mouth left for crying. Ye Tian dared not feed her too much, just a small amount each time. After many such feedings, she had actually developed a kind of intuition. This wretched clam’s hunger operated on a rating scale from one to six. If she opened her shell one to three times in a row, it meant she was not truly hungry — she just wanted something tasty to whet her palate. If she opened her shell four to six times in a row, it meant she was genuinely hungry and needed food to fill her belly.
Ye Tian found this so amusing she could not stop laughing. She told Rong Chen Zi, who stroked He Bang’s shell, also laughing and sighing: “Such a greedy little thing — how did she get by when there was no one to feed her?”
He Bang was growing bigger by the day and was now about one foot long. Ye Tian was delighted, having grown genuinely attached through the experience of caring for a small creature. She found herself looking after He Bang with involuntary devotion and care. He Bang had grown familiar with her too. Each morning, after Rong Chen Zi woke up and fed her water, the moment he picked her up, she knew she was about to go see Ye Tian.
She was lazy in human form but remarkably industrious as a clam. After Ye Tian took her to the dining hall just once, she memorized the route — and discovered that the turtle-dove and winter mushroom soup she drank every day was carried out from there. From then on, she harbored daily ambitions of crawling from Ye Tian’s room to the dining hall. Often Ye Tian would look away for a moment and the clam would have vanished without a trace — but if one followed the path to the dining hall, she could always be found.
The young Daoist disciples in the monastery had all grown accustomed to it. Whenever they spotted her on the road, laboriously crawling along, they would bend down and carry her a stretch of the way, bringing her to her destination. She was absolutely overjoyed the moment she reached the dining hall and would crawl all over the floor in excitement. The young disciples were even careful where they put their feet, watching the ground for so much as an ant — terrified of stepping on her. Even Qingzhen was baffled. He was working the bellows and grumbling to Qingzhen, who was making soup for the clam: “But didn’t Master say she crossed her tribulation and ascended to immortality…”
Qingzhen was perfectly unruffled: “What’s so strange about that? Even when she was human she was especially… so naturally when she ascends, she’ll be an especially unique kind of immortal.”
Qingzhen looked at the clam crawling around on the floor — grey and plain, currently clamping hard onto Qingzhen’s lantern-style trouser legs as if cheering him on — and fell silent.
One night in the second month, something strange occurred again in the Li Family Settlement. Rong Chen Zi had always worried there might be lingering consequences from the Resonant Serpent incident, and so he took it very seriously. He packed his things in the middle of the night, preparing to set off at once. He Bang was sleeping soundly. He felt her shell gently, the corners of his mouth curving slightly upward: “Do you want to come with me?”
He Bang did not open her shell — she hadn’t had her morning turtle-dove and winter mushroom soup yet, and she was not willing to leave. Rong Chen Zi shook his head: “Then be good and stay with Xiao Ye. I’ll be back soon. Yes?”
He Bang seemed to have grasped some basic human language by now, but like a dog — she understood common phrases but still had no comprehension of anything more complex. When Rong Chen Zi finished speaking, she began to crawl off the bed, and he quickly scooped her up: “I’ll carry you.”
Outside, the sky had not yet brightened. The monastery was completely dark. The cherry blossoms had bloomed late this year and had not yet fallen; they were still there as Rong Chen Zi walked along the stone-paved path carrying her, frost heavy in the deep of night. He held He Bang close against his chest: “The cherry blossom dewdrops carry an especially pure and fragrant scent. Would you like to taste some?”
The clam in his arms opened her shell. Rong Chen Zi picked a few blossoms and fed her the dew, then said softly: “Be good while I’m away. Listen to Xiao Ye. Don’t crawl around everywhere.”
He Bang was busy drinking the dewdrops and paid him no attention. She thought, among all the people around her, the most stingy was Rong Chen Zi. Ye Tian and Qingzhen — one only had to open one’s shell a few extra times and they would always relent and feed her something. Rong Chen Zi came on a strict schedule every day: if the time hadn’t come, he would not feed her no matter how many times she opened her shell. And on top of that he was often absent; on the rare occasions he did stay to play with her toys for a while, something always came up and he would send her back to Ye Tian.
And so He Bang felt no particular warmth toward him. She still could not figure out why she had to sleep with him every night — if only she could sleep with Qingzhen, how much nicer that would be, for Qingzhen made so many delicious things…
And so, the very night Rong Chen Zi left, He Bang disappeared. Ye Tian nearly fainted with alarm. She had only stepped away to fetch a cloth doll for He Bang, and when she left, the clam had been sitting calmly on the bed. Yet in just a short while, she was nowhere to be found. The young disciples searched every corner of Qingxu Monastery and turned up more than twenty river clams. There was even one that was similar in size and color.
After comparing them at length, they still could not tell which one it was. Ye Tian was close to tears: “You wretched clam, which one of you is you?!”
In desperation, Qingzhen produced his trump card: he made two shrimp balls. Not one of the twenty-some clams opened its shell — none of them were her.
They searched from evening until the sky began to lighten. Everyone decided to eat something before continuing the search. Qingzhen went back to his room to change his clothes and found the river clam tucked under his neatly folded blanket, hidden away cleverly, looking thoroughly pleased with herself — she had stayed perfectly still for half the night.
Qingzhen plucked her out, and the hearts of all the young Daoist disciples of Qingxu Monastery finally settled back into their chests.
Ye Tian cradled the clam and took quite a long while before she tapped on her shell: “You mustn’t wander off like that. What if someone stepped on you?!”
The clam opened and closed her shell six or seven times in a row — she had caught the scent of the shrimp balls!
Ye Tian had finally found the method to manage her: put the shrimp balls in a food box, feed her a tiny bit at a time — not enough to make her sick — and she would stay close to guard the rest. Even if you tried to chase her away with a broom, she would not crawl off.
The consequence of this excessive care and attention was that when Rong Chen Zi returned, He Bang no longer recognized him.
That day, the peach blossoms of Qingxu Monastery were in full bloom, fallen petals drifting red. Rong Chen Zi had brought five-spice sunflower seeds for He Bang. He Bang was happy, but she did not want Rong Chen Zi to feed her. The moment he touched her she would cry, and she wanted to sleep with Ye Tian. Ye Tian sat shelling seeds, grinning from ear to ear: “Senior Brother, what can I say to you — you can’t even win over a river clam!”