The Extraordinary Book of the Mortal Realm, “Yin Yang Zhi Mi Lu” (Records of Guidance Through Yin and Yang)

Zu Ye swore to obtain the “Military Horse Text” even at the cost of his life, not to promote “Military Horse,” but to completely destroy it—this was Zu Ye’s ultimate goal. The four great secret texts of the Jiang Xiang Sect had plagued the world for so many years. The A’Bao were tangible, but the deception techniques were intangible. If they merely eliminated the A’Bao team, redemption would be nothing but empty talk. Zu Ye wanted to make a thorough end of it all.

In his bones, he was a good person who, from beginning to end, wanted to be a good person. Unfortunately, fate had assigned him the role of an A’Bao. Great suffering, great sorrow, great wisdom—without becoming obsessed, one cannot become enlightened. He was more like fate’s undercover agent, placing his善 kind heart within evil. When he saw through sin, dried out hypocrisy, and experienced enlightenment after enlightenment, his善 good roots were finally activated. He finally understood why he had come into this life. A powerful sense of mission drove him to risk death and lay out the final game of his life.

When justice rises, evil raises its head. Zu Ye’s determination to unify the Jiang Xiang Sect even at the cost of his life was seen through by Qin Baichuan, but Qin Baichuan only guessed the beginning, not the ending. He thought Zu Ye merely wanted to become the dragon head boss of the Jiang Xiang Sect, that he only wanted more silver and fame. Until his death, he never imagined that Zu Ye would ultimately strangle the Jiang Xiang Sect with his own hands.

After the four major halls’ council meeting ended, Qin Baichuan returned to Sichuan. Soon after, he secretly contacted Qian Yuelin. Qin Baichuan revealed the heavenly secret in one sentence: “When Qian Ye was arrested by the Shanghai police that day, I suspect it was a setup by Zu Ye.”

“Zu Ye set it up?” Qian Yuelin said, fondling the silver dollars that Zu Ye had given him.

“Yes! Qian Ye, think carefully. Why was everything so coincidental? Why was the list that Military Statistics demanded specifically called ‘Military Horse’? Why were you released right after you handed over ‘Military Horse’? The Eastern Sect has always looked down on the Western and Northern Sects, so why were they so generous this time, spending a fortune to support Qian Ye?”

Qian Yuelin, whose injuries had improved, slowly came to his senses at this moment. He lowered his head in thought, then said: “What does the Eastern Sect want to do?”

Qin Baichuan’s expression was grave: “First, play the heart-attack card to win people over; second, swindle the ‘Military Horse’ technique to strengthen their power. I think he wants to swallow us whole!”

“Does he have that capability?”

“Times make heroes. Just because he didn’t have it before doesn’t mean he won’t have it in the future. The Communists and Nationalists have already gone to war. In the chaos, with tug-of-war and territorial division, who can say what will happen to the fate of the four major halls?”

Qian Yuelin nodded deeply.

Qin Baichuan said: “Qian Ye, we cannot sit and wait for death. The Northern and Western Sects must join hands. Know that the Eastern and Southern Sects are already birds of a feather. We’re not just dealing with one Zu Ye, but also Jiang Feiyan.”

Qian Yuelin touched the scars on his body and cursed: “Bastards! If the Eastern Sect is unrighteous, we won’t be loyal either!”

From then on, Qian Yuelin and Qin Baichuan grew closer and closer. They colluded in their wretched state, they took desperate risks. On the eve of the founding of New China, the two jointly set up a scheme, coordinating from inside and outside, killing Little Sixth, turning San Batou traitor, and nearly wiping out the entire Eastern Sect. Fortunately, the internal strife of the Jiang Xiang Sect followed the historical cyclical law that justice will ultimately triumph over evil. Zu Ye, at the bloody cost of “killing one thousand enemies while losing eight hundred of his own,” eliminated Qin Baichuan and Qian Yuelin. (See the first volume of this series, “I Am a Fortune Teller”)

Zu Ye finally unified the Jiang Xiang Sect.

Brothers’ corpses lay scattered in all directions, the mighty Jiang Xiang Sect grievously wounded. Things remained but people had changed, nine turns of the intestines in grief, a hundred years of grudges now listed among national tragedies. Who knows Zu Ye’s suffering, who knows Zu Ye’s pain, who knows Zu Ye was originally kind-hearted.

Over three years, Zu Ye exhausted his mind and thoughts, setting up schemes and traps, experiencing nine brushes with death. During the years of eastern campaigns and western wars, he also exerted all his energy to do another thing—spiritual redemption.

He exposed the tricks of the Jiang Xiang Sect’s four great deception secret texts one by one, and combined with thousands of years of true and false fortune-telling techniques, wrote a shocking mysterious cultural masterpiece—”Yin Yang Zhi Mi Lu” (Records of Guidance Through Yin and Yang).

Zu Ye had no elegant interests of literati and poets, nor any extravagant hope of leaving his name in history. He only wanted to thoroughly and completely eliminate the Jiang Xiang Sect, he only wanted to restore sobriety to the people of the world. If the deception techniques remained in the world, what use would it be even if all the Jiang Xiang Sect disciples went to prison?

For hundreds of years, the Jiang Xiang Sect had traversed both court and countryside. Who could guarantee that the Jiang Xiang Sect’s deception methods hadn’t been passed on to outsiders? Who could guarantee that there weren’t scattered A’Bao in every corner of society? The struggles of the “societies and secret religions” from the late Qing to the Republican era for decades had already proven that the Jiang Xiang Sect’s deception methods had long been eagerly imitated by fortune tellers of all sizes in the martial world. The fortune-telling profession had become a dye vat of sin.

At this point, whether fortune-telling techniques were real or fake was no longer important. So what if they were real? So what if they were fake? The ancients had long said “those skilled in the Yi Jing do not divine.” Not a single fortune teller had a good ending. The more one’s fortune is told, the thinner it becomes—it’s bad for everyone. In his book, Zu Ye not only advised people not to constantly seek fortune telling, but also urged all kinds of fortune tellers to stop early.

What kind of people go to have their fortunes told? People with bad fate.

What kind of people have bad fate? Yuan Shushan said: “First, those who have suffered major trauma; second, those obsessed with fame and profit; third, those at their wit’s end.”

Suffering major trauma refers to when life suddenly undergoes a drastic change, leading to inability to free oneself or to think things through, such as the violent death of a loved one, betrayal by a lover, sudden cancer, sudden windfall or sudden bankruptcy. Such great joy and great sorrow often cause mental disturbance. Unable to convince themselves, they turn to fortune tellers.

Being obsessed with fame and profit is a common human affliction. Wanting to get rich, wanting to get promoted, wanting to become famous—wanting it to the point of madness, to the point of frenzy. Thinking and thinking, they end up thinking of unorthodox paths. Fortune tellers then have a place to show their skills.

Being at one’s wit’s end is also human nature. In a person’s life, there are always several major hurdles. Those who can get through them are heroes; those who cannot are losers. When a person is deeply mired in bad luck, calling to heaven with no response, calling to earth with no answer, they think of fortune telling. For example, businessmen who have lost everything and are drowning in debt, corrupt officials whose misdeeds have been exposed and whose hearts are restless—at such times they generally think of fortune telling.

“Do people have fate? Yes, how can one live without fate? Do people have fate? No, everything is cause and effect.”

In his book, Zu Ye deeply analyzed the strange logic of fortune telling and the karmic retribution of destiny.

Fortune tellers’ favorite phrases are:

“Heavenly secrets cannot be revealed.”

“What is destined to be yours will eventually be yours; what is not destined cannot be forced.”

“Good people have their own heavenly protection.”

“You need to donate some incense money.”

Whether real fortune tellers or fake fortune tellers, in fact, when facing human destiny, they are all powerless. People often say, “Such-and-such fortune teller was so accurate, he could calculate all my past events!” “Such-and-such master is so amazing, he calculated all three of my previous women!”

At such moments, Zu Ye would laugh: So what if he calculated it? Fortune telling is not the goal, fortune telling is just a means. Seeking good fortune and avoiding misfortune is the goal. People seek fortune telling to make their lives better. Merely calculating results without being able to change them is nothing more than capturing future information earlier. If you cannot change the future, then it’s just advance payment of worries.

At this point, some would say: “If he can calculate my past, he can calculate my future. Then I can avoid whatever disasters there are.”

Zu Ye would again be rendered speechless. If avoiding disasters were this easy, then humanity should live forever. Is there any disaster more in need of resolution than life and death? Looking at fortune tellers and Yi Jing masters throughout thousands of years, very few lived past 60, and many died violent or premature deaths.

Fortune tellers can never calculate their own life and death—this is almost an indisputable fact.

Moreover, many fortune tellers frequently make themselves laughingstocks: right after resolving someone else’s disaster, they accidentally fall into a manure pit; after telling others how to select prosperous feng shui sites, they return home to find their own house on fire; after telling others how to eliminate official disasters, they carelessly break the law themselves and end up imprisoned, scared to the point of defecating and urinating; advising others not to indulge in women, they themselves keep wives and concubines, ultimately causing their numerous wives and concubines to fight jealously, ruining their reputation;催催ing wealth for this person and that person, they themselves are dirt poor, often cursing because clients gave them a few dollars less… Countless facts prove that fortune tellers have never been able to resolve disasters for themselves. They cannot even grasp their own fate—can people still hope they’ll resolve disasters and difficulties?

People who are slightly more aware sometimes ask fortune tellers suspiciously: “Master is so capable, why don’t you催 催 wealth for yourself and become a millionaire? Then you wouldn’t need to earn this hard money from fortune telling.”

Fortune tellers often answer like this: “This is my fate. I don’t have that wealth; even催催ing won’t bring it. I am destined to work in the fortune-telling profession in this life.”

A seemingly reasonable statement precisely exposes the fortune teller’s underwear: when talking about others’ fates, he appears extremely confident—催催ing wealth, changing luck, adding longevity, as if there’s nothing he cannot do; when talking about his own fate, he willingly accepts it. This logic is truly baffling.

Zu Ye frankly stated that actually fortune tellers are very clear in their hearts—what should come will eventually come, and cannot be blocked; what shouldn’t come cannot be obtained even by begging. But they exploit people’s greed, anger, and ignorance, using various rhetoric and methods to provoke your profit-seeking心 heart, ultimately taking your money to perform so-called “disaster resolution.”

If by chance they succeed, they become smug: See how capable I am? There’s no disaster I can’t resolve.

If they fail, they say: “What is destined to be yours will eventually be yours; what is not destined cannot be forced. Human calculations cannot compare to heavenly calculations.”

At this point, the strange logic of fortune telling is finally revealed: what should be will naturally come; what shouldn’t be cannot be obtained even by begging. Fortune tellers merely assume the false role of immortals, speculating on a 50% probability. In this sense, everyone can become a fortune teller.

To cover up these strange logics, fortune tellers also rack their brains. They created the professional rule of “three don’ts.”

The “three don’ts” refer to: don’t read for the dead, don’t read for oneself, don’t read for peers.

These three professional rules, at first glance, seem very reasonable, high-end, grand, and mysterious. Look carefully, and the tricks emerge.

Why not read for the dead? Fortune tellers say: “Reading for the dead is inauspicious.” Actually, this is nonsense. People who learn fortune telling all start by studying the eight characters of dead people. Ancient and modern fortune-telling books all record the eight characters of deceased people; the more famous the person, the more detailed. The reason fortune tellers say they don’t read for the dead is because people have used dead people’s eight characters to embarrass fortune tellers. For example, someone, to test a fortune teller’s abilities, deliberately gives him the eight characters of a deceased person. The fortune teller calculates and calculates, saying this person has fortune and status, will have great wealth within three years, then saying this person will have some disaster next year that needs resolving. Finally, the seeker says: “Master, this person is already dead! Just died yesterday!” One sentence chokes the fortune teller so he can’t fart for a long time. As this situation became more common, fortune tellers established the rule of not reading for the dead.

Why not read for oneself? Fortune tellers say “reading for oneself shortens lifespan” or “heavenly secrets cannot be revealed.” Actually, it’s not about “shortening lifespan,” nor is it “cannot be revealed,” but rather they fear embarrassment. Once they outline their own destiny curve, others will keep watching them to see if they develop according to their own description. This way, they are under everyone’s watchful supervision. Once they stumble badly, they’ll leave behind an eternal laughingstock.

Why not read for peers? This is even easier to explain. Everyone’s doing business with tacit understanding; nobody should provoke anyone, nobody should offend anyone, don’t make enemies, don’t create grudges.

In a word: all professional rules are to cover up embarrassment.

Zu Ye knew well that calculating a person’s fate is not difficult—it’s nothing more than the mutual interaction of metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. Legitimate fortune-telling techniques all have this function. What’s difficult is how to change fate. The greatness of the Yi Jing lies in pointing out the method to change fate—conforming to the heavenly way.

What is the heavenly way? Harmony of yin and yang, advancing and retreating with proper measure, accumulating善 good deeds and virtue, returning to simplicity and truth. Calculating a person’s fate is easy; changing a person’s fate is difficult. If one doesn’t cultivate oneself and accumulate virtue, even immortals cannot help, let alone any fortune teller.

This is why the thinking of the Yi Jing can be universally accepted by Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism. Many who study the Yi eventually turn to Buddhism—this is the same principle.

Looking again at the group of people engaged in the fortune-telling profession, they can be roughly divided into two categories.

One category wants to become immortals, to be like Zhuge Liang and Liu Bowen, benefiting humanity, guiding the realm. These people have either read too many historical novels or heard too many folk stories. The念頭 thought of “becoming a worldly master” takes root in their hearts, and they think highly of themselves, often considering themselves immortals.

The other category just wants to make money. They’ve discovered that this profession requires no capital, just relies on one’s mouth, and if done well, will even earn people’s respect—fame and profit both. Why not?

These two types of people also go to two extremes. The first type deeply believes in the miraculous nature of various fortune-telling techniques and devotes their entire lives to study. Whenever predictions prove accurate, they’re delighted, as if the truth of heaven and earth were in their palm. But good times don’t last. Because they excessively believe in the power of numerology, they enter a crazed state. The various fortune-telling methods passed down through the ages already have many loopholes and shortcomings. Once they calculate inaccurately, they lose their appetite, the whole person falls into chaos, sometimes wanting to give up, sometimes very confused.

Looking at this type of fortune teller in the world, most are people who have achieved nothing past their prime years. They think they’ve captured heavenly secrets and are different from others, stubbornly guarding the so-called “way” and dignity they can’t pick up. Watching ordinary people who don’t know fortune telling having thriving careers, marrying and having children in harmonious joy, they also wonder: where exactly did things go wrong?

From this perspective, this type of fortune teller is also a victim of numerology. Their hearts are not evil; they just want to pursue a kind of truth but fell into the swamp of superstition.

The other category, whose purpose is making money, becomes bolder and bolder in their profit-driven obsession. First swindling small money, then big money, ultimately becoming renowned “masters” of the time, or cult leaders with “disciples everywhere.” The tall tree attracts the wind, the fat pig invites slaughter. Those who do many unrighteous deeds will inevitably perish. In the law of karmic循環 cycles, this group will certainly leave behind a stinking name for ten thousand years after death.

Buddhist teachings say:

All phenomena are empty, but cause and effect are not empty.

Cause and effect follow each other like shadow following form.

What fate a person has is closely related to what they do. Speaking broadly, it’s karma across three lifetimes; speaking narrowly, it’s retribution in this life. Whether a person understands the Yi Jing, feng shui, or destiny principles has nothing to do with the quality of fate. Supernatural powers and mystical arts cannot change cause and effect.

Doesn’t Buddha’s disciple Maudgalyayana have supernatural powers? He was first in supernatural powers, unmatched by anyone, yet ultimately had to follow the law of cause and effect, sacrificing himself for the dharma, entering nirvana at the cost of his life, demonstrating the truth that cause and effect are not empty.

Isn’t Jiang Ziya formidable? He saw through the万年 Song of Heaven and Earth, his literary and military strategies传天 spread throughout the world. But at crucial moments, he didn’t believe in Yi divination. On the eve of King Wu’s campaign against Zhou, he ordered diviners to divine, obtaining the heaven and earth “否 negation” hexagram—a greatly inauspicious divination. Moreover, when divining, heavy rain fell, overturning the altar’s incense—all inauspicious signs. All ministers said this campaign would surely fail, but Jiang Ziya strongly opposed everyone, shouting: “The power of common people surpasses ghosts and gods!” Ultimately, King Wu achieved great victory.

Isn’t Zhuge Liang formidable? Facing the hopeless Ah Dou, he could only “knowing it cannot be done but doing it anyway,” praying to heaven for destiny, yet unable to resist cause and effect. At Wuzhang Plains, things ended hastily, leaving only the sorrow of未捷 not yet successful.

Isn’t Shao Yong formidable? His “Pre-Heaven Eight Trigrams theory” has influenced people to this day. His “Huang Ji Jing Shi” outlined 3,600 years of human destiny history. Such a figure who reached the peak in Yi studies, in his later years, said to Sima Guang: “Pre-Heaven learning is the心 heart; all transformations and all matters are born from the heart!” He finally understood the feeling Buddha had under the Bodhi tree when he saw the morning star and attained enlightenment: form is not different from emptiness, emptiness is not different from form, everything is created by the mind.

Supernatural powers and fortune telling are just appearances. Good and evil are the root causes of fortune’s rises and falls. Even truly supernatural people cannot resist cause and effect, let alone false masters whose fame exceeds their actual abilities?

“Saving one life is better than building a seven-story pagoda. Adjusting feng shui ten times is not as good as doing one善 good deed. Rather than worrying all day calculating fortunes and seeking divinations, better to examine oneself, sincerely repent. Today’s cultivation determines future fortune and misfortune. Nothing else—cause and effect.”

Zu Ye’s thousands and thousands of words, bitter earnest advice.

Having混跡 been in the fortune-telling profession for so many years, Zu Ye always felt that common people were too善良 kind, too superstitious, even somewhat dull. People always believe there are masters in the world, immortals in the mountains, always thinking there’s a group of people with divine calculations, omnipotent. But they don’t know that as long as one lives in this world, they’re all made of human flesh, all must eat, drink, defecate, and urinate, all will experience birth, aging, sickness, and death, all have helplessness and fear. Common people are too純樸 simple. They guard their immortal dreams, passing them down generation after generation, being deceived generation after generation, yet rationalizing it themselves, never tiring of it.

Zu Ye knew well that fortune-telling techniques have been传 transmitted for so long, there must be a reason. The reason lies in the dialectics of the five elements. Its value lies in people wanting to use it to seek good fortune and avoid misfortune. Its drawback is making people lose themselves. Its sin is that numerology superstition, mysticism becoming ghostly and神鬼化 supernatural, has harmed generation after generation of common people.

Confucianism for appearance, cultivating self and家 family; Daoism for骨 bones, non-action and action; Buddhism for heart, saving oneself and others. The core思想 thoughts of the three脈 branches of national studies all emphasize self-cultivation and境界 realm, yet only fortune tellers make people託付 entrust their lives to fate and ghosts and gods. Throughout history, famous people in various fields have almost all praised and admired Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism, yet no one has praised fortune-telling studies. Only a group of鄉野 rural charlatans hiding in darkness make a大肆 loud clamor, blowing fortune-telling techniques to the sky. Which is right, which is wrong—judgment is immediately clear.

In his book, Zu Ye repeatedly lamented: people all beg fortune tellers to help themselves, but who would think that fortune tellers themselves also live戰戰兢兢 anxiously every day? When people如獲至寶 treasure and ponder the golden words bestowed by fortune tellers, do they ever think that fortune tellers are hiding behind, gorging on cold pork?

The phrase “人不為己,天誅地滅 if a person does not cultivate themselves, heaven will destroy them” from Buddhist scriptures was also曲解 misinterpreted by fortune tellers. “為 wei” should be pronounced with the second tone, meaning cultivation and self-improvement. The original meaning of this phrase is: if a person does not cultivate their virtue, does not improve their cultivation, even heaven will destroy you. But people with居心叵測 ulterior motives completely reversed the meaning of this phrase, turning it into a vow to benefit only oneself without benefiting others.

The Jiang Xiang Sect produced a Zu Ye—this was the Jiang Xiang Sect’s fortune, and even more so, history’s fortune. Who could understand the fortune-telling profession better than him? Are there any tricks he doesn’t know? Are there any strange logics he doesn’t understand? The warrior cuts off his own arm, only to point the way out of confusion. For a man to do this is truly偉岸 magnificent.

This was destined to be a黃鐘大呂 grand bell and great lü masterwork in Chinese academic history comprehensively reflecting on Chinese fortune-telling techniques. I don’t know how many sleepless nights Zu Ye spent writing this book, carefully choosing each word and phrase, painstakingly considerate. Perhaps when a person has a kind of faith, they fear neither life nor death, neither fatigue. A powerful sense of mission urged him to keep moving forward, and forward again. When he put down his pen, Zu Ye named this book “Yin Yang Zhi Mi Lu” (Records of Guidance Through Yin and Yang).

This book, like Zu Ye’s destiny, was神神秘秘 mysterious, 起起伏伏 rising and falling. Zu Ye didn’t tell his brothers the book’s contents at the time. After several劫 calamities, after the Cultural Revolution, this book finally saw daylight again…

In 1948, I came to the Jiang Xiang Sect. That was precisely when the entire gang was風雨飄搖 tottering in the wind and rain.

At night, Zu Ye kept writing, revising. The brothers all thought he was calculating the hall’s expenses and income, or researching new扎飛 deception methods.

Zu Ye wrote furiously, and the brothers weren’t idle either. Besides fortune telling and打簽 throwing divination lots daily, they would pick up books to read when they had time. A’Bao had to learn to use leisure time to補充 replenish their energy—not just英耀 techniques, but also yin-yang and five elements, even the hundred schools of thought had to be涉獵 dabbled in. In this profession, the more博學 learned you were, the more you had a master’s aura.

Even Er Batou, who couldn’t recognize a single character, played at being文 refined. Holding a book called “春宮怪談 Strange Tales of the Spring Palace,” he would sometimes scratch his scalp and ask Liu Batou: “What do the characters under this painting mean?”

Liu Batou laughed and said: “Second Brother, better not read books with characters—it hurts the brain.”

“You stinking Little Six!” Er Batou cursed, then directly went to ask Old Four. Zhang Zizhan’s惆悵 melancholy expression immediately made Er Batou feel he’d asked the wrong person. He turned and rushed toward San Batou: “Third, what’s written under this painting?”

San Batou looked, smiled slightly, and said in a coquettish voice: “It says, ‘Second Master, come quickly, I can’t wait any longer!'”

“Hahaha! Makes sense!” Er Batou was as happy as a donkey, shaking his head and wagging his tail.

“Third, what book are you reading?” Er Batou looked at the book in San Batou’s hand and asked.

“Physiognomy, for鑒人 judging people.”

“For賤人 cheap people? A窯姐 prostitute’s book? Which brothel did you get it from?” Er Batou追問 pressed.

San Batou looked helpless: “Second Brother, 甚矣,汝之不惠 how extremely unwise you are!”

“What did you say? What did you say?” Er Batou was very confused.

“He’s calling you a笨蛋 idiot.” Si Batou插 interjected.

“Bastard!” Er Batou沖向 rushed toward San Batou. San Batou laughed and一溜煙 quickly dodged out.

As a new person, I didn’t dare speak casually. At this time, I only secretly笑 laughed. But even this laugh was discovered by Er Batou.

“What are you laughing at, big head?”

My face紅 reddened, not knowing how to respond.

“Don’t be afraid! If you want to laugh, laugh out loud!” Er Batou拍拍 patted my head.

“Mm, hehe, hahaha.” I laughed loudly.

“Hahaha…” Everyone laughed loudly.

I didn’t know that this harmonious joy among brothers was already明日黃花 a thing of the past, that a great disaster was slowly approaching.

Several months later, Liu Batou was poisoned to death by Qian Yuelin. San Batou and others造反 rebelled. Zu Ye大開殺戒 went on a killing spree, forcing Qian Yuelin to death, battling Qin Baichuan in a你死我活 life-and-death struggle. Covered in blood, Zu Ye barely managed to stand at the peak of the Jiang Xiang Sect.

Just like that, Zu Ye walked through his Republican era years. Several hundred brothers from the four major halls followed him into the new era of the People’s Republic of China.

Chiang Kai-shek’s Fortune-Telling Prophecy

When the new nation was first established, the world was far from peaceful. Remnants of the Nationalist forces, pervasive secret agents, major bandits in the mountains, and “societies and secret religions” from various regions—all kinds of dark and evil forces were interwoven together. Under the inspiration of Chiang Kai-shek’s “Plan to Retake the Mainland,” they colluded with each other, intending to subvert the newly born Republican government. Especially the “societies and secret religions”—this group was deeply rooted in Chinese soil. Even after struggling against them for decades afterward, they still flickered between light and darkness, their embers not yet extinguished.

Not long after Zu Ye unified the Jiang Xiang Sect, Er Batou, who was guarding the Sichuan branch, sent word that another old immortal had appeared in Sichuan, claiming to have opened his “Heavenly Eye Penetration.” Heavenly Eye Penetration was also called Thousand-Li Eye or Yin-Yang Eye. It was said that people with this ability could see things that normal people couldn’t see. For example, if you were eating at a table with him, he would point to the empty seat beside you and say there was another person sitting next to you, scaring you into getting goosebumps all over. Or if he visited your home, during the conversation, he would suddenly stop talking, stare fixedly at the doorway, and tell you that two dead children had entered through the door and were listening to everyone talk, making your spine feel ice-cold.

The most famous “Heavenly Eye Penetration” incident during the Republican era occurred in Nanjing. Before the July 7th Incident, an old man frequently brought his grandson to a teahouse in Nanjing to drink tea and eat pastries. Until one day, the child refused to go upstairs no matter what, kept staring at the bustling teahouse and crying loudly. Grandfather asked what was wrong, and the child said he saw many dead people in the teahouse. Grandfather thought his grandson was deliberately being naughty, so he forcibly pulled the child’s hand to go upstairs. The result was that the child retreated backward as if crazed, his crying changed, his eyes filled with the terror of seeing ghosts. The old man had no choice but to take his grandson home. The next day, when the old man brought his grandson to the teahouse again, the grandson continued crying without stopping. After going back and forth like this, the old man finally understood something. After returning home, he mobilized all the old and young in the family and relatives and friends in Nanjing to leave the city. At that time, most friends didn’t believe it. It wasn’t until Nanjing fell and corpses lay everywhere in the massacre that people finally understood—that child had originally opened his “Heavenly Eye Penetration” and saw scenes of the future.

Later, legend in the martial world had it that this child was later “Master Zhiou Zhai,” the famous Republican-era painter Mr. Zhang Yuguang. This was of course later people spreading falsehoods. Even Zu Ye held great doubts about this matter—Mr. Zhang was already principal of the Shanghai Art School in the third year of the Republic, so how could he have been led by his grandfather to eat pastries before the July 7th Incident?

However, legends about Yin-Yang Eyes had a long history. Now another old immortal had jumped out in Sichuan, loudly proclaiming the “Theory of Calamities and Anomalies,” propagating that the Nationalists would certainly be able to fight their way back within three years. At the same time, the martial world was also buzzing with hype about the fortune-telling prophecy regarding Chiang Kai-shek: “Victory cannot leave Sichuan, defeat cannot leave the bay.”

“Victory cannot leave Sichuan, defeat cannot leave the bay” was allegedly a piece of advice from a fortune teller to Chiang Kai-shek before the victory in the War of Resistance. The meaning was: Sichuan was Chiang Kai-shek’s blessed land. To achieve victory in the War of Resistance, he must use it as a base. Moreover, after victory in the War of Resistance, he shouldn’t move the capital back to Nanjing but should firmly grasp this feng shui dragon vein. As for “defeat cannot leave the bay,” it meant that if Chiang Kai-shek didn’t win the world in the conflict between the Nationalists and Communists, then Taiwan would be his retirement home.

Moreover, rumors spread wildly that this fortune-telling prophecy came from the mouth of the “Heavenly Eye Penetration” old immortal, and this old immortal was the master who originally told Mao Zedong’s fortune and gave him the mysterious prophecy of “8341.”

A series of incredibly mystical legends came flooding in. Zu Ye had a vague feeling that something big was about to happen. “Societies and secret religions” across the nation were choosing sides. Given the Communist Party’s past iron-fisted style of breaking superstition, most gangs were silently leaning toward the Nationalists.

Moreover, there seemed to be a tacit understanding among the underworld, bandits, and “societies and secret religions.”

Shanghai’s gangs clamored: “The Liberation Army can enter Shanghai, but the renminbi cannot enter Shanghai!”

Bandits in the mountains clamored: “The Liberation Army can cross the Yangtze River, but the People’s Government cannot enter the deep mountains!”

“Societies and secret religions” everywhere clamored: “The Liberation Army can defeat Old Chiang, but they can’t defeat the Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams. To exorcise demons and suppress ghosts, you still need to rely on us!”

Furthermore, rumors about “Wild Woman” began appearing in the deep mountain regions of Sichuan.

Wild Woman—female, three zhang tall, disheveled hair, barefoot, hidden in the wilderness, specializing in stealing and eating underage boys and girls. Within several months, over a dozen households’ children in Western Sichuan had been captured and eaten by Wild Woman. Local common people flocked to join the local “Nine Palaces Society,” seeking the protection of the Nine Palaces Daoist Priest.

The Nine Palaces Daoist Priest’s original name was Liu Santao, a person from Qingcheng, Sichuan. He had once cultivated in Qingcheng Daoist Temple. In the middle of the War of Resistance, this person brought several disciples and broke through the temple walls to emerge, declaring that within three years, the Japanese invaders would certainly be destroyed.

Unexpectedly, he hit the mark—three years later, the Japanese invaders were indeed destroyed. At the time of national celebration, various places in Sichuan hung lanterns and colored decorations and guessed lantern riddles. Someone made the War of Resistance the topic and created a riddle, saying: Whose credit is the victory in the War of Resistance? Name a historical figure.

Pro-Chiang supporters answered: Jiang Gan. Meaning Chiang Kai-shek led the Nationalist Party and accomplished great achievements.

Pro-Communist supporters answered: Gong Gong. Meaning this was the Communist Party’s unyielding struggle and merit.

Soviet-educated scholars answered: Su Wu. Soviet armed intervention destroyed 150,000 Kwantung Army troops and determined the situation.

American-educated scholars answered: Qu Yuan. If it weren’t for America’s atomic bomb, would Japan have yielded?

At this moment, Liu Santao tore down the riddle, laughed heartily and said: “You all are mistaken! The one who drove back the devils is the Nine Palaces Daoist Priest! If it weren’t for my hundred thousand heavenly soldiers ambushed in the clouds, protecting our Chinese dragon veins, both the Nationalist and Communist parties would have fled to other countries long ago.”

The people present at the time all extended their thumbs: We’ve seen people brag, but we’ve never seen anyone brag this much.

This world is just this miraculous—the bigger the boast, the easier it is to bewitch people. If you say you alone can fight ten people, no one believes you. If you say you can invite heavenly soldiers and generals down, then people believe. If you say you can see through a wall to what’s behind it, no one believes you. If you say you can see ghosts beyond the nine heavens, then people believe. If you say you’re the incarnation of Roosevelt, no one believes you. If you say you’re the incarnation of the Supreme Elderly Lord, then people believe. Anything that cannot be verified on the spot with facts easily causes people to be deceived. People have a primitive desire to be deceived in their bones.

In that era when not many people had even seen a light bulb, breaking through superstitions frozen for a thousand years was no easy task. Various immortal legends naturally had soil for survival. Even later, some grassroots civil servants of the new government also threw themselves into the embrace of the “Nine Palaces Society” and instilled in the common people an ideology: the Red Army of those years was Zhu Hong Ancestor descended to earth; the Nine Palaces Daoist Priest and the Liberation Army were one family.

When Zu Ye heard this news sent by Er Batou, he sighed in his heart: The Communist Party’s founding of the nation is just the beginning; the road ahead is still long.

Er Batou was so angry at the Sichuan branch that he kept shouting: “Which immortal dares to show himself and fight me one-on-one? If I don’t beat you until you eat shit, I’m not your Second Master!”

Soon, the Liberation Army conducted a dragnet-style campaign to suppress bandits, suppress special agents, and strike against “societies and secret religions.” There was no choice but to suppress them, no choice but to strike. Bandits, special agents, and charlatans achieved “good” interaction under the Nationalists’ remote control—attacking militia, storming government offices, blowing up bridges, bewitching people. Then the Korean War broke out. Chiang Kai-shek decisively believed that World War III was about to erupt and crazily clamored to counterattack the mainland.

At that moment, “subverting the people’s government” was not alarmist talk. New China was hastily established on the ruins after the great war between the Nationalists and Communists. Although our army defeated the Nationalists, our overall strength was far from as powerful as modern people imagine. As for the air force, there were seventeen aircraft total in the whole country. At the founding ceremony, several planes flew back and forth twice to give the world the prosperous appearance that China possessed twenty-six aircraft.

Nationalist secret agents hidden in various places across the country were impossible to guard against completely. Beautiful female teachers in elementary schools, devout old women selling pancakes, honest workers in textile factories—all could possibly be demons who killed without blinking. Nationalist agents who didn’t have time to flee with Chiang Kai-shek were everywhere.

Amid the clamor, the Nationalist Bureau of Investigation and Statistics’ “Peng Cheng Plan” was released. Mao Renfeng and Liu Hanshan dispatched his ace assassin, disciple of Swallow Li San, Duan Yunpeng, attempting to assassinate New China’s leader Mao Zedong. The operation’s code name was “Peng Cheng Plan.” At the same time, they secretly ordered Duan Yunpeng to take the opportunity to approach the mainland “societies and secret religions” leader—Shangguan Chengming. And they told Duan Yunpeng: “This is one of our own.”

What a phrase, “one of our own”! These words would ultimately kill Zu Ye.

Liu Hanshan, like Dai Li, was someone who must repay gratitude and also must avenge grudges. That day he wanted to kill Zu Ye, but unexpectedly Bai Chongxi interfered, causing the plan to go bankrupt. Later, Zu Ye went far to Western Sichuan to fight with Qin Baichuan. Because Qin Baichuan walked too closely with western warlords, the secrets of the Jiang Xiang Sect gradually surfaced. The star-scattered secret agent outposts finally figured out the real situation of the Jiang Xiang Sect. Liu Hanshan also knew Zu Ye like the back of his hand.

Liu Hanshan and other Military Statistics bosses gnashed their teeth in hatred. It turned out that in the bright and clear universe of the Republic, there was still such a group—a swindler gang of several hundred years. Four old fellows from east, south, west, and north plagued an entire generation of Republican people and repeatedly toyed with various heroes of Military Statistics. But at that time, the Nationalists were collapsing for a thousand li. Liu Hanshan didn’t have time to eradicate the Jiang Xiang Sect before he hastily fled with Chiang Kai-shek to Taiwan. In great fury, Liu Hanshan, as soon as he arrived in Taiwan, ordered the arrest of Feng Siyuan and Jiang Feiyan. From then on, Feng Siyuan and Jiang Feiyan sat in prison in Taiwan for a full ten years.

This time, Liu Hanshan deliberately had Duan Yunpeng approach Zu Ye—this was truly killing two birds with one stone. It both slapped Bai Chongxi hard in the face and placed Zu Ye in a nine-deaths-one-life situation. If Zu Ye complied with Duan Yunpeng, he would certainly be doomed beyond redemption. If Zu Ye didn’t comply, that “Deputy Staff Officer of Kunlun Pass Defense Command” personally appointed by Bai Chongxi would be a joke. No matter what, as long as Zu Ye’s true identity as a Jiang Xiang Sect swindler was exposed, and they told the Communist Party that Zu Ye was a Nationalist person, Zu Ye would certainly die.

This is the martial world, this is cause and effect. Killing a person sometimes doesn’t happen in the moment but lies in the threading of the needle of karmic circumstances.

Blessings don’t come in pairs, misfortunes don’t come singly.

During that period, problems also arose within Zu Ye’s hall. Da Batou, who had followed Zu Ye for over twenty years, suddenly fell ill. At that time, the hall had already been grievously wounded. San Batou, Wu Batou, Liu Batou, and Qi Ye had jointly rebelled. Zu Ye had killed Third and Fifth, and I had just been promoted to Wu Batou. I was practically someone eating for free. Compared to the hall’s former Fifth, Zhang Qiling, I didn’t even count as a single hair. But at that time, Zu Ye’s thoughts were no longer on swindling but on contemplating the Jiang Xiang Sect’s ending.

Da Batou suffered from a rare skin disease. His whole body cracked like scales. Later, he had a persistent high fever and coughed up blood.

Zu Ye invited the best Chinese medicine doctor for Da Batou, but the condition still deteriorated. Looking at Da Batou covered in “fish scales,” Zu Ye’s heart was like being cut by knives.

Over twenty years, through wind-knives and frost-swords—what is loyalty, what is righteousness, a lifetime’s entrustment, a lifetime’s following. Wild flowers dazzle the eyes but grass remains unyielding; forest trees decay but bamboo remains noble and aloof. Rough people don’t understand poetry and literature yet understand loyalty and righteousness. Compared to those great men above in the temple halls, common folks better understand winter warmth and summer coolness, the length of human relationships and emotions.

The Da Batou of the past—robust and healthy, muscles and bones trained to toughness—was gone. In his place was a middle-aged man on his last breath, utterly weakened. He lay desperately on the bed. Sometimes he lifted his eyelids to look at the roof beam; sometimes his lips trembled as if wanting to say something. No one had ever seen Da Batou cry, but at his deathbed, the corners of his eyes moistened. His mouth kept intermittently calling out “nia… nia.” The brothers all cried. This was his dialect—he was calling for “Mother.”

No one knew what Da Batou was thinking before he died. At that moment, this man who had been incomparably fierce his whole life was like a child, calling “Mother” over and over, so fragile, so helpless. Finally, this Batou who had followed Zu Ye the longest closed his eyes in pain and despair.

Zu Ye couldn’t bear to watch anymore. He turned around and tears streamed down.

The Jiang Xiang Sect was just a dream. In the dream, drunken with riches and luxury; when the dream awoke, left with nothing. The hall’s greatest Batou was gone. Did this foretell the ending of the hall’s fate? The brothers didn’t know. The brothers only knew this was a heart-wrenching pain, like cutting flesh, unable to calm down for a long time. During that period, the brothers all said they dreamed of Big Brother at night. In the dreams, he was still robust, still smiling cheerfully, still with his bald head glistening with sweat.

Experiencing the pain of losing a limb, Zu Ye suddenly aged considerably. His white hair grew more and more, his face increasingly haggard. Jiang Feiyan had left, the Batou had betrayed him, brothers had died, even opponents with whom he matched wits were gone. Only he remained to support the Jiang Xiang Sect and move forward. No one could experience his feelings at that time. He felt that everything in the world was a dream of prosperity; when the dream awoke, everything became emptiness.

Sometimes, I would quietly brew him a pot of tea and sit with him blankly. He would look at me, then reveal a trace of weary smile.

I knew he was very tired, very sad. To make him laugh, once I actually dared to say: “Zu Ye, I’ve pondered some ‘Ying Yao’ formulas myself. Could you see if they’re workable?”

He blinked and looked at me.

I said: “Whenever someone asks about relationships, just say their fate commits the peach blossom; whenever someone asks about wealth fortune, just say theirs is flowing water wealth—can earn, can spend; whenever someone asks about official career, just say they have office and salary but must guard against petty people… No matter who you’re talking to, just say their temperament isn’t too good, their character is a bit stubborn—these words will certainly hit the mark every time!”

I originally thought Zu Ye would praise me for this, that at least it showed that since my promotion to Batou I was working hard to improve my professional level. Unexpectedly, Zu Ye just chuckled and said: “Even honest Da Tou has learned bad things. It seems my Jiang Xiang Sect really isn’t a good place.”

I was rendered speechless.

Before long, Zu Ye made a major decision—to move the entire Jiang Xiang Sect hall back to Jianghuai.

Er Batou was very displeased: “Zu Ye, I still want to fight with Sichuan’s ‘societies and secret religions.’ If I don’t eradicate them, I feel very uncomfortable.”

Zu Ye replied: “Obey.”

Er Batou obediently brought the Sichuan branch’s brothers back to Jianghuai to report for duty.

Just one week after Zu Ye arrived in Shanghai, Jia Si Ye, once the greatest opium merchant in the Jianghuai region, came. This was an old scoundrel who had sailed through storms with Zu Ye countless times. The two had “pretended to be dead” to smuggle opium, set up schemes to deceive Nationalist high officials, arranged ghost marriages to swindle capitalists’ money. All along the way, they shared liver and gallbladder.

“What does Zu Ye plan to do?” Jia Si Ye asked.

“Plan? In what respect?”

“Leave or stay?”

“It’s not that serious, is it?” Zu Ye said.

“Suppressing bandits, striking against ‘societies and secret religions’—it’s about to start. If we don’t leave now, when should we wait?”

“What brilliant insights does Jia Si Ye have?” Zu Ye asked back.

“Does Zu Ye really think Old Chiang can fight back, or do you want to take advantage of the chaos to grab another handful?”

Zu Ye neither confirmed nor denied. But Zu Ye knew that Jia Si Ye was now a frightened bird. Once the Communist Party came, his opium business could never be done again.

Seeing that Zu Ye didn’t speak, Jia Si Ye probed again: “Why don’t we two brothers flee to Hong Kong? Once there, Zu Ye will still be a great master. We’ll join hands again—no worry about not living well.”

“What about all these brothers under my command?” Zu Ye shook his head.

“Can’t worry about that much anymore. Preserving life is most important.”

Zu Ye still didn’t speak.

“Could it be that Zu Ye is afraid?” Jia Si Ye raised his eyelids.

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid that fleeing to Hong Kong, life will still be hard to preserve. Afraid of the thousand special agents Military Statistics has planted in Hong Kong.” Jia Si Ye smiled mysteriously.

This statement hit Zu Ye’s heart. He himself also knew that even if he fled, he wouldn’t flee to Hong Kong. Moreover, Zu Ye fundamentally hadn’t thought of fleeing. This was the tragedy of a hero—standing alone, bullying snow and insulting frost. But once the wind and clouds suddenly changed, various forces would drive you here and there like herding ducks. In the end, there would inevitably be a knife breaking the belly, becoming a delicious soup in others’ dishes.

Seeing Zu Ye sink into contemplation, Jia Si Ye looked out the window and quietly pulled out a letter from his bosom, handed it to Zu Ye, and said mysteriously: “Zu Ye, please read.”

Zu Ye received the letter blankly. After opening it, he couldn’t help but gasp.

Comrade Guansheng, respectfully:

Several years since we parted in Nanjing, I have missed you considerably. In former days, worthy younger brother used Ying Yao methods to roam the martial world, fought evil people in Jianghuai, broke Japanese invader bases, fought in Kunlun Pass, unified the Jiang Xiang Sect—truly a hero! My admiration is extreme, difficult to express in words! That day at my humble abode in Nanjing, your foolish elder brother was short-sighted and rash. I hope worthy younger brother will forgive. Today, the Party-Nation’s pacification efforts have been unfavorable, causing the mainland to fall. Where the Party-Nation exists is where the orthodox tradition exists. Though we are in a corner, the National Father’s heroic spirit lives on, the Three Principles of the People are inextinguishable. His Excellency the President is determined to recover the mainland. Recalling the anti-Japanese situation of those days, worthy younger brother’s merit was outstanding, a pillar of the Party-Nation. Today, I specially issue belated Party member certification and a merit medal to be forwarded to worthy younger brother. Younger brother should preserve them carefully as proof of identity.

The Korean War is imminent, World War III is about to erupt. Our Party sharpens weapons and feeds horses, intending to march north. Younger brother should closely cooperate with surrounding comrades, coordinate from inside and outside, and together plan great undertakings! Today, I specially dispatch Party-Nation’s outstanding talent with code name “Fire Fox” to contact younger brother. Hereafter, “Fire Fox’s” orders are the Party-Nation’s orders. Younger brother should treat them with care.

Best wishes for spring peace.

Liu Hanshan

This day

After Zu Ye finished reading the letter, his eyes stared fixedly at Jia Si Ye.

“Jia Si Ye is Fire Fox?” Zu Ye asked.

“Hehe, how could I have that capability!” Jia Si Ye said with a laugh.

“Then where did this letter come from?”

“Is Zu Ye at ease this time? The Nationalists over there have always considered you one of their own. If Zu Ye doesn’t want to flee, we can do some things together.” Jia Si Ye didn’t directly answer Zu Ye’s question.

At this moment, Zu Ye suddenly understood. Jia Si Ye’s earlier words were all probing. In the environment where the financial path of selling opium had been cut off, the underworld had fallen, and every day was lived in anxiety, Jia Si Ye had completely turned toward the Nationalists.

“Fire Fox has already transferred from Hong Kong to the interior and will soon arrive in Beijing to rendezvous with 108 and 999 there. This is Zu Ye’s Party member certificate and medal. Zu Ye, keep them safe yourself.” Saying this, Jia Si Ye again pulled out an envelope from his bosom and handed it to Zu Ye.

Zu Ye received the Party member certificate and medal, and goosebumps rose all over his body. This wasn’t any Party member certificate—it was clearly the King of Hell’s death summons.

“Comrade Guansheng!” Jia Si Ye suddenly stood up and said in a commanding tone, “In the name of the Republic of China Ministry of National Defense Bureau of Investigation and Statistics, I issue to you the first ‘Fire Fox’ order. Hereafter, my code name is ‘San Doubi,’ your code name is ‘Hun Tian’…”

Zu Ye was startled. In normal times, Zu Ye would certainly have slapped him hard in the mouth. But at that moment, Zu Ye understood that since Jia Si Ye dared to do this, he must have made full preparations.

Jia Si Ye continued in a low voice: “Three days later, you contact Boss Wang of the coffin shop…”

Zu Ye lowered his head and listened. He suddenly felt countless pairs of eyes around him watching. He had already fallen into the large net woven by the Nationalist Bureau of Investigation and Statistics. With the slightest carelessness, he would fall flat on his face. It wasn’t that he feared death, but rather if matters before death weren’t handled well, after death he couldn’t close his eyes in peace. He had expended such great effort to unify the Jiang Xiang Sect. If at this moment the tree fell and the monkeys scattered, everything would be in vain.

Zu Ye needed to endure once more, endure one last time in his life. Naturally combative by nature, never admitting defeat in his life, he was even more unwilling to be kicked around like a ball. Even if he died, he must die with honor and glory, praised by the masses.

Zeng Jingwu Skillfully Captures Nationalist Special Agents

Zu Ye obediently received the orders and acted according to “Fire Fox’s” commands.

Three days later in the evening, Zu Ye led several dozen brothers into the mountains. This time, he brought only ordinary Xiao Jiao. He didn’t let any of the Batou participate. Zu Ye was worried that these Batou had too many criminal records and in the future would be sentenced to death for accumulated crimes. He could save one at a time. As for the Xiao Jiao, they had just entered the profession not long ago, their foundation was still relatively clean. Even if in the future the case broke and they were arrested, they could also, based on the principle of “learning from past mistakes to avoid future ones, curing the illness to save the patient,” get labor reform. As long as they were alive, there was hope.

All the way until late at night, the brothers finally heard strange bird calls in the back mountain.

“Coo coo, coo coo, tsk tsk, tsk tsk.”

Zu Ye listened, then softly called out: “Is this Caoxi Road?”

After a while, a voice answered: “Each gets a good place for leisure.”

“Is there a Buddha lamp to add an incense stick?” Zu Ye called again.

The other side answered: “Life and death, neither mistaken.”

“I am ‘Hun Tian.'” Zu Ye followed the sound.

From the bushes, two people vaguely emerged, carrying two radio sets on their backs, saying weakly: “We are ‘Golden Tiger’ and ‘Silver Fox.’ What took you so long? We’ve been crouching here for a day and a night. The bread is all eaten, the water is all drunk—hungry and cold.”

“The mountain road stretches for dozens of li—not easy to find. If it weren’t for having many brothers, I’m afraid we still wouldn’t have found you two even now,” Zu Ye said.

This was the first order Zu Ye received: receive two special agents airdropped by the Nationalists, then hide them in the coffins at Boss Wang’s coffin shop, awaiting deployment. The two special agents’ target was to contact hidden special agents in Shanghai to blow up Shanghai’s power plant.

Zu Ye led the two men to Boss Wang’s coffin shop and knocked lightly on the shop door.

Boss Wang asked softly from inside the courtyard: “Who is it?”

“Boss, ritual ceremony supplies—need to order several coffins,” Zu Ye answered.

“Wait a moment.” Boss Wang opened the door, stuck his head out, looked around in all directions and said, “Come in quickly.”

A table of food and wine was already prepared in the inner room. “Come, come, come. This old one has been waiting for you all for quite some time. Please sit,” Boss Wang said with a smile.

Zu Ye and the two special agents sat down. The two special agents were truly starving—they reached out to eat immediately.

Boss Wang raised his wine cup: “Oppose Communism, restore the nation, together plan great undertakings!”

The two special agents hastily raised their wine cups. Zu Ye also raised his wine cup. The three said in unison: “Oppose Communism, restore the nation, together plan great undertakings!”

All four drank in one gulp. Zu Ye secretly pondered in his heart: So many special agents hidden in every corner of society. If it weren’t for Jia Si Ye revealing it, who would know that this honest and simple coffin shop owner was a Nationalist mole?

Zu Ye’s dealings with Boss Wang hadn’t been just one or two days. Usually when Zu Ye performed rituals to drive out demons, he often took incense burners and candlesticks, paper men and paper horses from his coffin shop. When encountering ghost marriages, he didn’t forget to take care of his business, inducing the parties involved to buy a rather expensive large coffin. Boss Wang was always respectful toward Zu Ye in daily life. Zu Ye had already grown accustomed to Boss Wang’s bowing and scraping manner. Now Boss Wang had suddenly turned the tables completely—Zu Ye still wasn’t quite adapted.

In that clamorous background of old and new transition, any ordinary person could possibly be a peerless master hidden for a long time. They were greatly hidden among the mediocre marketplaces on both sides of the strait. Some were exposed in the situation; some were never exposed. Many years later, when people were far from war, conspiracy, and slaughter, these people became precisely the living force promoting the unification of both sides of the strait. In their bones they were all Chinese, just fighting for their respective positions—like two brothers who’d had a falling out, who would ultimately shake hands and make peace.

After several cups of wine went down, Zu Ye suddenly felt a trace of confusion before his eyes, then it became blurry: “Not good! The wine is drugged!” Zu Ye lost consciousness.

Not knowing how much time had passed, Zu Ye felt dizzy. He covered his head with both hands and discovered he was lying on a bamboo bed. Propping himself up to look carefully, a familiar face appeared before his eyes.

“Instructor Zeng?” Zu Ye cried out in surprise.

“Zu Ye, don’t move. The drug’s effects haven’t worn off yet,” Zeng Jingwu helped Zu Ye sit up.

“What’s going on?” Zu Ye patted his head.

“Zu Ye, you really scared me this time,” Zeng Jingwu sighed. “Do you still remember the agreement we two brothers once made in Shanghai? You said you would never join either the Nationalists or Communists.”

“I remember, I remember,” Zu Ye nodded.

“A few days ago, there was intelligence saying you were an informant the Nationalists planted on the mainland. It gave me quite a shock.”

“Even Instructor Zeng doesn’t trust me?” Zu Ye smiled bitterly.

“Sigh, it’s not that I don’t trust you. All these years, our Party has suffered great losses in this area. Never mind people outside the Party—even our Party’s founders, people like Zhou Fohai and Chen Gongbo, didn’t they all defect? In the bloody storm, how many people can persist in their faith! Also, Zu Ye, what you did this time was dangerous enough. Your Er Batou also nearly lost his life!” Zeng Jingwu said with emotion.

“Er Batou had an incident?” Zu Ye was greatly alarmed.

It turned out that after Zu Ye pretended to submit to the Nationalists, he secretly pondered how to transmit the information out. He knew he must be under surveillance by special agents like Jia Si Ye. Once he went out himself, he would certainly reveal a flaw. After deep thought, he had Er Batou disguise himself and secretly bring a secret letter to find Zeng Jingwu.

Unexpectedly, this detail was also grasped by Nationalist special agents. Er Batou ran all the way without noticing anyone tailing him. Just as he reached the outskirts, he was almost killed. Fortunately, the red special agents arranged by Zeng Jingwu appeared in time, caught the Nationalist special agent, and saved Er Batou.

Initially, when Zeng Jingwu received the news that Zu Ye had joined the Nationalists, he was also very nervous. Assassinating New China’s leader and blowing up Shanghai’s power plant were respectively two major acts of the “Peng Cheng Plan.” New China’s intelligence agencies timely cracked this intelligence. The north and south major public security systems had already laid out inescapable nets, just waiting for Mao Renfeng and Liu Hanshan to play their cards. As a result, at this time, Zu Ye involuntarily got mixed into it. This caught Zeng Jingwu, responsible for intelligence in Shanghai, off guard.

With an attitude of utmost caution, Zeng Jingwu didn’t alert the enemy but watched to see how Zu Ye would handle it. What if Zu Ye really was a Nationalist agent? It wasn’t until Zu Ye arranged for Er Batou to transmit information that a huge stone in Zeng Jingwu’s heart finally fell.

“Does Zu Ye know who betrayed you?” Zeng Jingwu asked.

“Who?”

“Not an outsider. Brothers from your hall.”

“Which one?”

“Several people who came over from Qin Baichuan’s side—all Nationalist special agents. Big Beard Qin didn’t know before he died, and you didn’t see it either! Two Xiao Jiao kept following Er Batou. If it weren’t for our people following closely behind, both you and Er Batou would have been exposed.”

“No wonder,” Zu Ye said after a period of contemplation. “I thought my plan was thorough. Er Batou’s disguise technique also couldn’t be penetrated by ordinary people. Which several people were they?”

“Wu Wenming, Wang Guocai, Jia Dazhong,” Zeng Jingwu answered.

“Hahahaha.” Zu Ye laughed looking up at the sky, then said, “Wu Wenming means ‘no civilization’—that is, extremely ugly; Wang Guocai means ‘the nation perishes then talent comes’; Jia Dazhong is ‘fake great loyalty’—that is, disloyal. Name studies must be considered. Carefully examined, it’s quite interesting.”

“Hehe.” Zeng Jingwu also laughed. “At a time like this, Zu Ye still has the heart to joke.”

“What about those two airdropped special agents?” Zu Ye thought of the two people picked up from the mountains.

“All arrested.”

“What about Boss Wang from the coffin shop?”

“That’s our Party’s own person!”

Zu Ye felt dizzy for a while. The coffin shop owner—suddenly became a Nationalist special agent, then suddenly became a Communist underground Party member. Was this the legendary double agent?

“What do we do next?” Zu Ye asked.

“Use the fake to confuse the real, follow the vine to find the melon, and capture all the special agents in Shanghai in one net!”

“Mm.” Zu Ye nodded, then said through gritted teeth, “Those few bastards from my hall—I want to cut them myself!”

“No, no!” Zeng Jingwu hastily said.

“Why?”

“Zu Ye, this isn’t the old society anymore. We are the People’s Republic of China. Traitors and turncoats must be handed over to the people for judgment.”

“The people? Where are they?” Zu Ye was stunned.

Zeng Jingwu was even more stunned: “Where are they? They’re everywhere.”

“The common people?” Zu Ye said uncomprehendingly. “What do common people understand? They’re all yams and potatoes. Can they dig information out of criminals’ mouths? They can’t even write their own names!”

“Hehe.” Zeng Jingwu laughed, shook his head and said, “Zu Ye, you should study some politics. We have the Political Consultative Conference, various levels of courts, people’s jurors. Soon we’ll also have the People’s Congress. You mustn’t underestimate the power of the masses. Our Party’s foundation is the people!”

What Zeng Jingwu said was true. The power of the people was something Chiang Kai-shek and his followers never comprehended or utilized in their entire lives. But the two special agents “108” and “999” that Liu Hanshan airdropped near Beijing, who were preparing to rendezvous with Duan Yunpeng, truly experienced what it meant to fall into the vast ocean of the people.

The Great Wall stretches for ten thousand li with ten thousand soldiers; ten thousand li of rivers and mountains, ten thousand li of red. After “108” and “999” were dropped from the airplane, “108” got caught in a tree, couldn’t untangle the parachute, didn’t dare call for help, and ultimately froze to death. “999” had just landed when he was discovered by farmer uncles in the Beijing suburbs. The old man called out repeatedly, attracting a large group of militia. With pickaxes, hoes, and sickles, they came shouting. “999” had just pulled out his military knife and waved it a few times when he was submerged by the masses.

At the same time, the Wild Woman case in Sichuan was also cracked by public security agencies. Nine Palaces Daoist Priest Liu Santao was the mastermind behind it. This case was the first major human trafficking case in the early days of the nation’s founding. There was fundamentally no Wild Woman. It was Liu Santao’s criminal gang who lured underage children to the deep mountains and imprisoned them in the pill refining room he secretly built, using them to refine so-called immortal pills.

The practice of refining immortal pills using virgin boys and girls was common throughout the history of shamanism and medicine, especially in the Ming Dynasty. The Jiajing Emperor Zhu Houcong was crazily obsessed with pill refining techniques. Seeking immortality, he tasted all the immortal pills under heaven. But time’s knife still mercilessly turned over his life’s annual rings. As days and years passed, he ate quite a few various immortal pills, yet his appearance became increasingly haggard.

Finally one day, a charlatan volunteered, claiming to have invented a newest pill refining technique. Taking this pill continuously for several years would certainly result in a ruddy complexion and return to youth. Thus, the most barbaric, bloodiest, most ignorant, most cruel pill refining technique in history appeared in the palace compound.

This pill was called “Red Lead,” made from virgin girls’ menstrual blood as raw material. Several hundred fourteen or fifteen-year-old young girls just entering puberty, deceived by charlatans and the emperor, successively entered the palace. They thought they were fortunate to become palace maids, but didn’t expect to become raw materials for pill refining.

After these girls were imprisoned in the rear palace pill refining room, they did nothing each day, just waiting for menstruation to come when imperial physicians and charlatans would take copper basins to collect blood. To ensure the purity of menstrual blood, charlatans ordered these girls not to eat meals—each day only eating a few mulberry leaves, drinking a little dew. The girls were tortured until their faces had no blood color, utterly haggard. Later, the pill refining room’s usage of menstrual blood grew larger and larger. The palace maids’ normal menstrual volume could no longer satisfy palace needs. After charlatans and imperial physicians held a sinister conference, they began giving the girls drugs. This drug specifically induced menstrual blood—the drug’s power was extremely fierce. The palace maids’ physiological state quickly entered a disordered state. Each month they menstruated several times; each time the blood flowed without stopping.

Just like this, the palace maids were tortured until barely alive. Until their bodies were completely emptied and could no longer discharge menstrual blood, Zhu Houcong would use “human dregs” as an excuse to bury these people alive. “Human dregs” meant the body’s essence had been completely discharged, leaving only a dregs shell. This term invented by Zhu Houcong was later also used on himself. Later historical books called him the “Human Dregs Emperor.”

Once pill refining techniques entered this stage, they entered the demon realm. The entire court was filled with evil winds and full of yin energy. Not long after Zhu Houcong died, Wei Zhongxian was born. Immediately “eight thousand female ghosts disrupted the court.” The great Ming Dynasty gradually moved toward destruction amid the chaos of demons dancing.

Liu Santao, as a generation of evil Daoist, was obsessed with pill refining techniques and also deeply believed “Red Lead” could prolong life. To make himself live longer, he repeated the old trick, secretly abducting some boys and girls, refining pills with girls’ menstrual blood, drinking boys’ urine as a medicinal catalyst, vainly attempting immortality. He also fabricated the “Wild Woman” rumors, deceiving the people.

Heaven has eyes. Public security agencies cracked this major case of abducting children, arrested Liu Santao, and searched out from the Nine Palaces Daoist Temple a radio, four pistols. With irrefutable evidence, Liu Santao confessed everything. This special agent who had been bought by the Nationalists with large sums and hidden within “societies and secret religions” finally removed his painted skin. Awaiting him was the people’s severe sentence. At this point, the “Heavenly Eye Penetration” rumors fabricated by Liu Santao also collapsed without attack.

Later, the Ministry of Public Security, under Luo Ruiqing’s personal command, also captured alive Liu Hanshan’s ace assassin Duan Yunpeng. The north—the Chairman was safe. The south—Shanghai was stable. New China’s first spy war ended with the People’s Republic’s complete victory. Only then did Zu Ye understand—it turned out the Nationalists adopted the tactic of feinting east while attacking west. The so-called blowing up Shanghai’s power plant was just a smokescreen to create a tense situation. Assassinating New China’s leader was their real goal. Jia Si Ye and those two special agents hidden in coffins were just chess pieces to be sacrificed, conveniently dragging Zu Ye in as well. Otherwise, how could they reveal such top-secret matters as blowing up the power plant to Zu Ye, a person whose loyalty was unclear?

First day of the first month, 1952. Zeng Jingwu came to wish Zu Ye spring greetings.

The two drank wine while chatting—from fifteen-year-old Zu Ye’s first time entering the Axe Gang to deliver a letter to the two setting up a scheme to cause great havoc in the Zhoushan Islands, from Ninth Master Wang Yaqiao’s death to the two jointly squeezing Jia Si Ye to make this old ghost reveal himself. Talking and talking, tears filled their eyes.

“Zu Ye, you should leave,” Zeng Jingwu suddenly said at the end.

Zu Ye was stunned. Both fell into silence. This was a topic both were unwilling to face yet ultimately had to face.

“A new round of striking against ‘societies and secret religions’ movement is about to begin. No matter what, the reality that Zu Ye is a ‘societies and secret religions’ leader won’t change,” Zeng Jingwu said.

“I understand,” Zu Ye nodded.

“This time is different from the past. You really won’t leave?” Zeng Jingwu spoke his true feelings.

“I finally managed to gather this mob together with great difficulty, precisely to send them onto the right path,” Zu Ye said profoundly.

“This way, people will die. Why don’t you flee first? After the movement is launched, I’ll clear out your Jiang Xiang Sect’s nest. I guarantee not a single one will slip through the net. This way your brothers can also be reformed, and you don’t have to go to your death,” Zeng Jingwu said.

Zu Ye shook his head: “I understand the Jiang Xiang Sect better than you. As long as the boss doesn’t die, they have hope. I not only must die, I must let them watch me die. Only this way can everything be settled once and for all.”

“With this kind of character, why didn’t you join the Communist Party back then!” Zeng Jingwu said with regret.

Zu Ye couldn’t help but laugh.

“However, this time I’m afraid it’s going to be for real. Bandits and special agents have been suppressed almost completely. Now it’s ‘societies and secret religions’ everywhere making trouble. We are atheists. Thousands of years of feudal superstition will be broken in this generation. You know Xianglin’s Wife, right?”

“I know, I know—a character from Lu Xun’s pen.”

“How pitiful. China now has many people like this. We want people to awaken, to understand that only they themselves can liberate themselves. What gods and ghosts—Chinese people have believed in ghosts and gods for three thousand years, yet ultimately ended up poor and destitute! Although your Jiang Xiang Sect acted on behalf of heaven, times are different now. In the new era, the right path in the human world is vicissitudes!” When Zeng Jingwu spoke to this exciting point, his cheeks turned red.

“Instructor Zeng speaks correctly. I’ve considered the Jiang Xiang Sect’s matter for a long time. It’s time to settle it. I entrust one matter to Instructor Zeng…” Zu Ye thought and said.

“Zu Ye, please speak! As long as it doesn’t violate Party discipline or national law, I’ll certainly handle it!”

“Hehe. Of course it won’t violate. Not only won’t it violate, it will help you handle affairs.”

“What?” Zeng Jingwu’s eyes brightened.

Zu Ye shouted loudly toward the door: “Da Tou!”

At that time, I was setting off firecrackers with Er Batou and others in the courtyard outside. A thousand-string “Da Di Hong”—Er Batou wound the firecrackers around tree branches several times before hanging them well, then used a long incense stick to light them. They crackled and exploded, very festive.

Zu Ye shouted several times before I heard, and I hastily ran in.

“Zu Ye, you called me?”

“Hehe, silly Da Tou,” Zu Ye smiled at me and said. “Go to the west wing room. Beside the stove there’s a cabinet. In the cabinet there’s a bundle. Bring me the first book inside.”

“Yes!” I happily went to get the book. When the boss arranges matters for a younger brother to do, it’s a younger brother’s supreme honor.

Before long, I brought that book. Looking carefully—where was this a book? It was a stack of manuscripts Zu Ye had written. The title page read: Yin Yang Zhi Mi Lu (Records of Guidance Through Yin and Yang).

Zu Ye received the manuscript, blew the dust off it, flipped through several pages, then handed it to Zeng Jingwu.

“This is?” Zeng Jingwu doubtfully received it.

Zu Ye didn’t speak but indicated he should look.

Zeng Jingwu looked at several pages, became deeply contemplative, suddenly slapped the table and rose: “Satisfying! Satisfying! Using the spear of the opponent to attack the shield of the opponent—satisfying!”

Scared me into a shudder.

After Zu Ye died, the entire nation launched a vigorous movement to break superstition. Zu Ye’s manuscript was printed and became one of the first batches of excellent reading materials for people to break superstition. But the signature wasn’t “Shangguan Chengming” but “Anonymous.” Given Zu Ye’s sensitive identity, this book didn’t use Zu Ye’s real name. After the Cultural Revolution was launched, such books were prohibited.

I was fortunate to hide a copy during the Cultural Revolution—it wasn’t taken by my son and daughter to the commune to be burned as “Four Olds.” This was the eternal warning words Zu Ye exhausted his heart and blood to write. People superstitious about fortune telling who saw this book would basically all return to sobriety.

Zu Ye’s heart—heaven and earth can witness. Two faces of yin and yang, aspirations exist between good and evil. All these years, Zu Ye, like many fortune tellers, painstakingly pursued the way of scholarship, the way of being human, repeatedly examining various fortune-telling techniques’ accuracy and practicality, even more than once reflecting on his own life’s trajectory. So much right and wrong, life and death, always verified one truth: good and evil are the root source of fate’s rises and falls. Fortune telling is just a kind of appearance; the cause and effect behind it is what’s real.

Pitiful are the common people under heaven who don’t understand this principle until death. Like oil crickets, parasitic on fate’s chain, they fear their fate isn’t good, they already feel their fate isn’t good, yet always cannot find the method to change fate. They bitterly beg heaven for mercy, they long for fortune tellers to guide them through confusion. Their whole lives they wander in fate’s prison, unable to break through, even more not daring to break through. They’re cautious and timid, walking on thin ice, passing their whole lives in poor and bitter misfortune with trepidation, never daring to contend with fate.

Fortunately, history produced a Jiang Xiang Sect, and the Jiang Xiang Sect produced a Zu Ye. This was probably the mission history gave Zu Ye. Generally, works that can awaken the world and enlighten the deaf must be the innermost feelings revealed by insiders. Only by thoroughly understanding an industry’s tricks and logic, researching a certain kind of learning to the peak, can one establish today based on the past, overturn mountains and seas, have evidence for arguments, completed in one breath.

The “Yin Yang Zhi Mi Lu” recorded many historical stories about fortune telling, and moreover had Zu Ye’s theoretical demonstrations. In short, he wanted the people of the world to understand the true meaning of fate: fortune telling is unreliable; changing fate can only rely on oneself. Let us appreciate Zu Ye’s posthumous work. The book says:

In former days, Jiang Shang accompanied King Wu to attack Zhou. Before the great battle, he ordered diviners to divine, obtaining heaven and earth “negation”—a greatly inauspicious hexagram. Moreover, when divining, heavy rain fell from the sky, overturning the altar’s incense—all inauspicious omens. All ministers said this campaign would certainly fail. Only Jiang Shang strongly opposed everyone, saying the power of common people surpasses ghosts and gods. Ultimately King Wu achieved great victory. People say Jiang Ziya was good at playing with mystical arts, but at crucial moments, Jiang Shang fundamentally didn’t believe in fortune telling but determined strategy based on the situation.

Tang Dynasty great talent Lü Cai, thoroughly versed in yin and yang, fond of mysticism and the five arts. Counselor Wei Zheng would perform great ceremony whenever meeting him. Yet this person frankly stated in his “Fortune Telling Text”: Diviners speak highly of people’s salary and fate to please people’s hearts, speak sweetly of fortune and misfortune to scheme for people’s wealth… However, households that accumulate good deeds will certainly have surplus celebration. Could it be auspicious only after establishing salary? Households that accumulate evil will certainly have surplus calamity. Could it be disaster only after tribulation and killing?

Lü Cai was a rare fate principle genius in history. The “Old Tang Book” to this day preserves his famous essays on fate. Precisely because he deeply entered the fortune-telling fortress, knew himself and the enemy, he could strike back with the spear, placing fortune-telling techniques in a dead position.

Northern Song Prime Minister Cai Jing. Although this person was a generation of treacherous minister, in breaking superstition he repeatedly achieved extraordinary merit. One day he summoned many fortune tellers from the capital to divine his fate. Fortune tellers competed to praise Cai Jing as having fortune and salary—beyond words noble! After hearing this, Cai Jing laughed looking up at the sky, then pointed to a person behind him called Zheng Xiaoxiao, and said to the fortune tellers: Zheng Xiaoxiao and I were born in the same year, same month, same day, same time. His father Zheng Fen and my father were old friends. Now I’ve become Prime Minister, yet Zheng Xiaoxiao still inherits his father’s business selling griddle cakes. What brilliant discussions do you all have? The fortune tellers were all rendered speechless.

Ming Dynasty founding emperor Zhu Yuanzhang came from poverty. After unifying the world, he couldn’t sleep peacefully night after night. Yi Jing master Liu Bowen saw this and hastily asked why. Zhu Yuanzhang said: Why can I be emperor? Liu Bowen answered: Destiny has decreed it. Zhu Yuanzhang asked again: Then people born in the same year, same month, same day, same time as me certainly also have the potential to be emperor? Liu Bowen immediately understood. The next day he secretly ordered the administration commissioner to search for people with the same eight characters as Zhu Yuanzhang. The result was finding three people: one monk, one beggar, one merchant. From then on, Zhu Yuanzhang had no more worries!

Qing Dynasty great talent Ji Xiaolan was obsessed with fortune-telling techniques when young. Until one day his nephew was born—same day, same hour, separated by a window—his family servant’s son Liu Yunpeng was also born. Ji Xiaolan looked at these two babies and sighed: Exactly the same eight characters—is fate the same? Sixteen years later, his nephew died young, but Liu Yunpeng still lived, living to seventy-three. From then on, Grand Secretary Ji was no longer obsessed with numerology.

Chinese numerology techniques have gone through several changes—from the initial turtle divination, star divination, dream divination, cloud divination, to later milfoil grass divination, copper coin divination, Tai Xuan divination, eight characters divination, plum blossom divination, chess divination—every one makes people tie fate to fortune tellers. People guard a myth, guard an expectation, yet don’t know fortune tellers give all the great principles of being human to others, while they themselves hide in dark corners eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling. This is forever the strange logic of fortune tellers and those having their fortunes told. Do people have fate? Yes—how can one live without it? Do people have fate? No—everything is cause and effect! Worldly matters are hurried—doing good is most important…

Zu Ye left, leaving behind his posthumous work, leaving behind heartfelt words that enlighten people’s hearts.

Did Zu Ye really die? At least before Huang Farong’s daughter appeared, I always thought so.

We watched with our own eyes as Zu Ye step by step walked toward the execution ground. At that time, the brothers cried their hearts out. Immediately after, the hall’s brothers all received their deserved punishment.

I was sentenced to five years.