With officials and their habit of bowing whenever the occasion presented itself — that seemed to be quite a common occurrence around Lang Jiuchuan. The Commander Liang of the Five Districts Constabulary earlier had been just the same, and now Zeng Jichuan was no different.
Lang Jiuchuan did not feel the least bit unworthy of it. She simply shifted half a step to the side, returned a bow of her own, and said: “There is no need for such formality, Sir. This was merely a transaction — you came to my door seeking help, and I sold my skill. This payment of debt for lifting a burden — once it is settled, we are square.”
Zeng Jichuan laughed lightly: “Naturally that shall not be lacking. What is it you need of me, young Daoist Friend?”
Before Lang Jiuchuan had even replied, Director Ou’s old instinct for avoiding trouble kicked in: “The weather is warming — this old man will step outside and ask the shopkeeper for a cup of tea.”
Without waiting for any reaction from the other two, he walked out with practiced ease. It was a caution he had cultivated over many years, now so thoroughly ingrained it had become reflex. Such was the way of things — as a court physician, the more one knew, the sooner one died.
Zeng Jichuan found nothing remarkable in that. Those who served as officials always had certain constraints upon them. Everyone had their own way of surviving. He was well-accustomed to it, and thought nothing of it — for those like the court physicians, knowing too much meant dying too soon.
He looked at Lang Jiuchuan and said: “I hear that among the payment Xue Shi gave young Daoist Friend — beyond the currency — he also had a longevity memorial tablet installed for you at the academy?”
Lang Jiuchuan nodded: “My body is frail, and I need to seek longevity. That means I must accumulate merit to feed back into myself. This is also what those of the Daoist school crave above all else — abundant merit deepens the soul and fortifies spiritual energy. Of course, ordinary people crave it too. After all, accumulating a life of merit brings good fortune to one’s family line and benefits one’s descendants for generations. As with an official such as yourself — serve well, and you will naturally carry a full measure of merit on your person.”
Zeng Jichuan received that compliment with good grace, and his smile broadened. Speaking with great and righteous spirit, he said: “Those who serve as officials naturally bear a duty to plead on behalf of the people.” Then he looked at Lang Jiuchuan: “Is there any way I might help you accumulate this merit of yours? Would you like a living shrine established…”
Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes brightened at once. A living shrine — naturally she would love one, but she had not yet earned the right to one.
Zeng Jichuan had clearly seen the young girl’s eyes light up with startling brilliance the moment the words “living shrine” were spoken — only to dim again almost immediately. He could not quite make sense of it.
“I certainly desire one very much,” Lang Jiuchuan said, shaking her head. “But I am not worthy of it yet. Sir, I have done nothing of great merit for this nation of Dahan, nor have I brought benefit to the lives of the common people. How could I presume to receive such an offering? Were one erected in my name now, I would feel only guilt.”
She shook her head again: “Some offerings, once they exceed what one deserves, bring their own entanglements and backlash — so there is no need. In the future, when I have performed some great meritorious act, I trust there will be those who erect a living shrine for me of their own accord.”
A flash of admiration passed through Zeng Jichuan’s eyes. Young as she was, she could resist such temptation. That steadiness of Daoist heart — it was something rare.
“I observe that in Sir’s wealth palace, new crossed lines have appeared and the aura there is somewhat dim — this indicates the descent of the Heavenly Drain into the palace. In other words, you are about to suffer a significant financial loss,” Lang Jiuchuan said with a light smile. “But as they say, breaking wealth wards off calamity — you need not be troubled by this. The money will find its way back to you in another form. As for what you should additionally do — spend no less than a thousand taels on a donation to a children’s welfare institution or some such establishment. As for my consultation fee — give as you see fit.”
Zeng Jichuan: “…”
That amounted to having his fortune told all over again — and then this “as you see fit,” what exactly did “as you see fit” amount to?
Zeng Jichuan wanted to ask, but seeing the look on Lang Jiuchuan’s face that clearly communicated I’ve said my piece, you may show yourself out, he swallowed the question.
When he left Wanshi Shop and returned to his residence, he was informed that the work of calligraphy he had purchased from a pawnshop for ten thousand taels — taken in as an unredeemed pledge, attributed to a celebrated master — had been verified by an appraiser as a copy. In other words: a forgery.
Zeng Jichuan was stunned. A significant financial loss — the prediction was accurate.
His son said he was about to send men to call the pawnshop to account, and was stopped by Zeng Jichuan — no need to stir up this trouble. Let it be counted as the silver paid to avert the ill fortune that had been menacing his eye condition.
Only then did the household realize his cataract had truly been cured, and immediately put the matter of being swindled to the side, rejoicing and saying they would go to the temple to give thanks to the gods — for the Elder Master was still in his prime, and was the pillar of the Zeng household. As long as nothing went wrong with him and he held his position steadily at court, the Zeng family’s prosperity could be extended for at minimum another generation.
That too was stopped by Zeng Jichuan.
If you were going to worship anyone, you might as well worship the all-knowing proprietress of Wanshi Shop — after all, she was the true meritorious party who had cured his eye condition.
Since the Elder Master would not give his approval, they would not go to the temple — but they could still do good deeds: distribute rice porridge, repair bridges and roads, and the like. The Zeng household was not short on the means for it.
And so the Zeng household’s stewards were all set to work. By the time Lang Jiuchuan felt the merit settling into her spiritual platform, she was filled with something close to wonder. Having money really is a good thing. And Wanshi Shop’s reputation spread further still from all of this, drawing more and more people seeking divinations and resolution to their worries — but that is a later story, and need not be told here.
At that moment, Lang Jiuchuan was being detained by Director Ou, who wanted, in his halting and roundabout way, to ask her to read two birth characters.
“Director, have you already consulted others about these?” Lang Jiuchuan took the two sets of birth characters he offered. “In truth, you have likely already formed your own judgment — you simply do not dare fully believe it.”
Director Ou’s heart gave a sudden lurch: “What young Daoist Friend says is astonishing to hear. The Ou Family has practiced medicine for generations. I would not presume to call ourselves a dynasty of divine healers with both virtue and skill, but we may claim to have held all living beings in our healing care. For such a family to suddenly fall into ruin — this is…”
“One who keeps company with a ruler keeps company with a tiger. From the moment the Ou Family entered the Imperial Medical Bureau, that understanding should have been there. Wealth and danger have always coexisted. As for whether it will be a sudden fall — you, at your age, how many instances of entire households being exterminated for backing the wrong faction have you witnessed? And yet you have still seen too few?” Lang Jiuchuan said. “There is no family line that endures forever. It is only a question of how long its fortune lasts. Once that fortune is spent, the time of its ruin or disappearance from the record of history draws near.”
Director Ou’s color went slightly pale.
Lang Jiuchuan said nothing more. She took the birth characters, looked first at the one on top, and with a single glance recognized it as that of Director Ou’s son. She made a light calculation with her fingers, running the analysis in her mind — the birth characters were neither outstanding nor poor. If he kept his head down and lived within his means, he could make a comfortable life as a man of wealth and leisure.
She turned to the second sheet, and glanced again at Director Ou before looking at it. This one was his grandson’s.
Lang Jiuchuan placed the characters on the table and worked through the calculations, finger by finger. Within moments, her fingertip paused. “Director, your grandson is nearing the age of thirty — why has he still not taken a wife?”
Director Ou had long since ceased to question her abilities as he once had. Hearing this, he felt no astonishment — only a sense that it was perfectly in keeping with things. He nodded: “The boy was told by a physiognomist that it was inauspicious for him to marry early. He himself is single-mindedly devoted to the study of medicine, spending his days in the Imperial Medical Bureau diligently and studiously, not in the least concerned with matters of marriage.”
Lang Jiuchuan gave a slight smile: “Perhaps not, however. I see nothing in this birth character configuration suggesting it is inauspicious to marry early. And moreover — is it not rather that he has fallen hopelessly in love with someone, and has sought but not obtained that person?”
What?
Director Ou was startled. Could that truly be the case?
Lang Jiuchuan lowered her eyes and continued pressing her fingers through the calculation. The deeper she went, the more tightly her brow furrowed, and her complexion gradually paled — as though she was seeing things that were deeply unpleasant.
Then, abruptly, she stopped.
She raised her eyes: “If you wish to save yourself and spare your household from this calamity, Director, you must steel your heart and purge your own household first.”
Many thanks to those of you who have been pointing out errors and typos — my eyes have not been at their best, and even with self-review, things still slip through.