Outside the inn, Changmei Daoren gave a thoroughly convincing performance of a sickly, frail middle-aged man. This kind of acting ability could fool not just ordinary people — it might even fool fellow practitioners of the craft.
Li Diudiu wore a long cotton dress and tried to walk with a mincing, delicate step, but with his current height and build, pretending to be a young girl had already become somewhat difficult.
The two walked to the inn entrance, and just as they arrived, a waiter came out from the inn. His eyes were immediately drawn to Li Diudiu, and then he murmured to himself:
“This girl has quite a large frame…”
Li Diudiu thought: if I roll up my sleeve and show you my muscles, will you believe me?
“Are you two looking to stay?” the young waiter said politely. “I’m afraid our inn is fully booked. I’m truly sorry. Not too far ahead there’s another inn — you could try asking there.”
Li Diudiu didn’t dare open his mouth to speak. When he was a child, pinching his throat to imitate a woman’s voice was seamless. But now his speaking voice — it could double for Ruo Ling’s.
Changmei Daoren quickly said: “We’re not here to stay. May I ask if we might set up a little stall outside your establishment? My daughter and I are running low on travel funds, and seeing that your honored inn has distinguished guests, I took the liberty of coming to try our luck.”
The young waiter turned and asked the innkeeper inside. The innkeeper waved his hand impatiently, pointed toward the street outside and said: “Not at the entrance — go to the roadside across the way.”
Changmei Daoren immediately nodded repeatedly: “Thank you, thank you.”
—
Li Diudiu helped him to the roadside across the street. They unfolded their portable stools and sat down. Li Diudiu lowered his voice and said to his master: “I can’t sing right now — the moment I sing I’ll give it away.”
Changmei said: “You play the pipa, I’ll sing.”
Li Diudiu asked: “Which tune?”
Changmei said: “Play something sensual and melancholic.”
Li Diudiu said: “Sensual and melancholic sung by you — what use would that be?”
Changmei Daoren glared at him: “Then you do it?”
Li Diudiu looked down at his own physique and shook his head: “If I did it, I’d turn something sensual and melancholic into something full of masculine vigor.”
Changmei Daoren said: “Then why are you wasting words — play!”
Li Diudiu extended his hand behind him and flicked his master on the back of the head — a crisp sound, quite resonant.
“Played.”
He grinned. Changmei glared at him and said: “You’re a girl right now — girls don’t show their teeth when they smile. You’re practically showing your back molars.”
Li Diudiu quickly nodded, thought about it, and felt he should cover up a bit, so he draped a gauze veil over the lower half of his face.
Changmei looked at him, nodded and said: “Now that you’ve covered your face, my heart feels a great deal better.”
Li Diudiu sighed: “This cross-dressing business should be the last time. I can never dress like this again.”
Changmei said: “That sigh sounded a little reluctant.”
Li Diudiu: “Can you please just sing your song…”
—
The tune began. Changmei Daoren sang a northwestern folk song in his hoarse, raspy voice — it was originally a song for women to sing, yet coming from his throat it had a strangely distinct flavor.
As Changmei Daoren sang, he also set up his fortune-telling banner and took out his various tools from his pack one by one.
As it turned out, before long several people were drawn out by the music. A handful of Yanshan Camp’s men came out and stood at the doorway listening, and the longer they watched the more curious they became — because the number of things Changmei Daoren kept producing from his pack was truly extraordinary.
“Old man.”
One of the men walked over, looked at Changmei Daoren, then looked at Li Diudiu — and immediately lost interest. The physique was not the least bit alluring. If Li Diudiu were to walk alone at night dressed like this, he probably wouldn’t face much danger; men smaller than him would likely feel they couldn’t beat him in a fight.
The man asked: “What exactly is your stall about — are you singing, or telling fortunes?”
Changmei hastily replied: “Singing, and telling fortunes.”
He patted the rotating whetstone beside him and said: “Can also sharpen scissors and cleavers, and I can clean ears, shave, and do foot massage.”
The man was thoroughly bewildered.
—
Just then, Yanshan Camp’s Fifth Chief Tian Zhanyuan came sauntering out. A moment before, his wife had heard the song and her expression subtly changed — it had evidently touched something in her heart. He had been about to order his men to drive Changmei and the others away, but his wife said not to drive them away — she wanted to hear the music.
So Tian Zhanyuan came out to have a look and ask what tunes this old man and the young woman knew.
He’d barely come out when he heard Changmei listing his services, which left him quite dazed. He thought to himself — times really are hard if even street performers have requirements this demanding.
“Old man.”
Tian Zhanyuan walked up to Changmei and glanced at Li Diudiu — then gave a small shudder and thought: why did I look…
Actually Li Diudiu’s disguise wasn’t ugly — it was just that his frame was already quite large, and the bulky cotton dress made him look even more imposing and broad-shouldered.
He asked Changmei Daoren: “You can also tell fortunes?”
Changmei Daoren immediately said: “Years ago I received some guidance from a Daoist master — I know only the rudiments.”
Tian Zhanyuan waved his hand and immediately had someone bring a stool out. He sat down in front of Changmei and said: “Then read my face for me — tell me what my features say.”
Changmei agreed, went through a theatrical examination, and then seemed to give a start and shrank back slightly.
“This face… it’s the face of nobility and distinction. This gentleman…”
Changmei leaned in closer and lowered his voice: “This face of yours is truly extraordinary. Forgive this commoner for being too bold to bow — may I ask, are you a prince?”
This left Tian Zhanyuan completely baffled. A moment later he realized the old man was saying he had the fate of a prince. He immediately cheered up, laughed heartily and said: “I am not.”
“That’s strange.”
Changmei Daoren said with a puzzled expression: “Looking at the gentleman’s features, truly, it is the face of great wealth and rank — and moreover, a face that bears the mark of a distinguished title in one’s fate. At the very least, a prince.”
“Ha ha ha ha…”
Tian Zhanyuan laughed: “You river-and-lake swindlers — you only know how to say flattering things. I’m nothing but an itinerant merchant. Your reading was wrong.”
Though he didn’t believe it, his heart was warm and pleased. He instructed his men to give Changmei a few coins as reward.
Men whose lives hung at the edge of a blade — seven or eight out of ten believed in spirits and gods. When they encountered a fortune teller, most would give reward money to get a few auspicious words.
Changmei Daoren received his reward money, and auspicious words naturally poured forth abundantly.
He smiled and said: “Gentleman, your features speak not only of wealth and rank, but also of longevity. Looking at your face — I’d guess you’re thirty?”
Tian Zhanyuan smiled: “Wrong again — I’m already forty-two.”
Changmei Daoren waved his hands back and forth: “Surely you’re not telling the truth — someone with these features absolutely cannot be over thirty.”
Tian Zhanyuan’s grin spread so wide his lips nearly burst — this old man was truly good with words.
“I really am forty-two. You say I have the face of longevity — then how long do you think I’ll live?”
Changmei Daoren quickly said: “I dare not state it plainly, but it will surpass one hundred.”
Li Diudiu thought to himself: this master of mine and his silver tongue — and yet with so many years, he’s never managed to woo a single woman. What a waste of that eloquent mouth.
Tian Zhanyuan laughed until he was rocking back and forth, then ordered more reward money — a large handful of copper coins dropped into the wooden bowl in front of Changmei Daoren. Changmei too broke into a smile so broad his eyes nearly disappeared, and he seemed to lose three parts of his sickly air.
“Read further — when will I become a prince?”
Tian Zhanyuan leaned forward, voice very low, very low indeed.
Changmei Daoren also leaned forward until the two were nearly face to face. He said in an even lower voice: “If I say this aloud I’ll have my head taken off…”
Tian Zhanyuan pulled a silver piece from his own purse — roughly three or four taels — and placed it in Changmei Daoren’s hand, smiling: “Tell only me. I won’t tell anyone else. Who would take your head?”
Changmei Daoren hurried to give thanks, pocketed the silver, then lowered his voice: “From your features, by rights you should already be a prince by now. Yet the gentleman says he is not — so there must be an obstacle blocking it in your fate. This obstacle was originally your benefactor, but because he is too exalted, you cannot step over him, so the prince’s fate has not yet arrived.”
Tian Zhanyuan’s expression shifted.
He said: “Explain more clearly.”
Changmei Daoren said: “From the face and the palm I can only see this much. Please give me your date and hour of birth, gentleman.”
Tian Zhanyuan recited it, his expression growing solemn.
Changmei pinched his fingers and calculated for some time, then his expression changed drastically. He seemed to tremble in fright, as though he could barely remain seated.
Watching him like this, Tian Zhanyuan’s own expression changed, his mood growing urgent.
“What on earth is going on?”
Changmei Daoren pinched his fingers and calculated again for a while, then said in a slightly trembling voice: “Gentleman… I dare not say…”
Tian Zhanyuan flared in anger and said viciously: “If you don’t say, not only will I take my silver back, I’ll take your life.”
Changmei gave another shudder. His voice grew even more unsteady as he said: “Alright, alright, I’ll say… From what the fate-numbers show, the gentleman has two great benefactors in his life — one greater, one lesser. But this greatest one seems to be precisely the person blocking the gentleman’s fate-number.”
Tian Zhanyuan immediately thought of Yu Chaozong. If he hadn’t thrown in his lot with Yu Chaozong back in the day, his forces would already have been wiped out by the authorities.
He immediately asked: “Will that person kill me?”
Changmei Daoren shook his head: “That person’s fate-number is supremely noble — he should have… he should have the number of ninety-five. Yet strangely, the gentleman also has a second benefactor with an almost identical fate-number. These two benefactors clash in the gentleman’s fate, and two men with the ninety-five fate-number both appearing in your life — this is both fortunate and perilous. This fate-number, I have never seen nor heard of anything like it before.”
Hearing this, Tian Zhanyuan involuntarily murmured to himself: “Could it be Second Brother?”
He was momentarily dazed and did not realize what he had just said.
Li Diudiu understood inwardly: so the great villain within Yanshan Camp was Second Brother — that is, Yanshan Camp’s Second Chief. Only he still didn’t know which of the chiefs this person in front of him was.
After a brief daze, Tian Zhanyuan pressed urgently: “Then tell me — how should I deal with those two benefactors?”
Changmei Daoren lowered his voice: “It doesn’t lie with you, gentleman — it lies in what the final outcome of those two benefactors is. Though they currently dwell under the same roof and were once close as brothers, sooner or later there must be a decisive clash. When the time comes, observe who defeats whom. If the greater benefactor wins…”
He looked toward Tian Zhanyuan: “The gentleman’s princely fate-number, I fear, will be severed.”
Tian Zhanyuan’s expression changed sharply, a flash of cold ferocity crossing his eyes.
What kind of person was Changmei — he made his judgments from the information already known to him, then probed for the truth. For him, this was too simple.
Seeing Tian Zhanyuan’s face turn so ugly, Changmei Daoren immediately said: “Yet the gentleman’s features already show the color of nobility, so it should be nothing too serious. I shouldn’t be mistaken.”
Tian Zhanyuan immediately asked: “The lesser one — would he beat the greater one?”
Changmei smiled inscrutably and nodded: “More or less — though there is room for variation.”
Tian Zhanyuan let out a long breath, then asked another question: “What if… I were to kill the greater one?”
Changmei made a show of being startled, then shook his head repeatedly: “Matters of life and death — I dare not speak, I dare not speak.”
Tian Zhanyuan gave a cold grunt: “Apparently you really do have some ability. How much would it take for you to speak?”
—