Military Maps at the Corpse-Driving Inn

Somewhere at the border between Hubei and Hunan, Zu Ye and his group settled down for the night.

That evening, Zu Ye convened a full Council Meeting to commend the various Batous for their work during the scheme in Zhoushan. Only then did the Xiao Jiaos understand what had actually happened.

After the meeting, Zu Ye quietly returned to his room. Sitting on the cold chair, his heart felt empty. Huang Farong’s figure began floating before his eyes again. He had already grown accustomed to having Huang Farong by his side. When habit becomes second nature, and that nature is suddenly taken away, it brings sorrow.

Huang Farong was someone he had personally brought into “Mu Zi Lian.” Over four years, this girl had carefully assisted and cared for him—from major matters like offering counsel and strategies to small things like serving tea and pouring water. Her clever and intelligent eyes, her composed and articulate manner, her nimble and graceful movements—all of this was deeply imprinted in Zu Ye’s mind. Now this person was gone. Who else could understand Zu Ye’s heart?

He didn’t know how Huang Farong was doing in Nanyang, didn’t know if this lonely and pitiful girl was still grieving, still resenting him. He only hoped she could walk the righteous path and live a peaceful and stable life.

Lost in these thoughts, Zu Ye suddenly heard the sound of roof tiles shifting. He quickly blew out the oil lamp and cocked his ear to listen.

At that moment, Little Liu Zi’s voice rang out in the courtyard with a loud shout: “Where do you think you’re going!”

Zu Ye rushed out into the courtyard. Several Batous came out as well. In the darkness, a figure was racing across the rooftop, feet treading the roof ridge as if on flat ground, fleeing in a straight line.

Little Liu Zi took off running, his feet kicking off the wall several times in succession. He launched into the air, instantly flipping onto the roof, and shouted: “Stop!”

The two chased each other front and back, whooshing along. Da Batou and Er Batou also grabbed cleavers and pickaxes, surrounding and blocking from below.

That person had excellent lightness skills, flitting about on the roof like a swallow. Little Liu Zi followed close behind in relentless pursuit. At a roof ridge turn, the person’s foot slipped and he lost his balance. Having no choice, he performed a flip and dropped into the courtyard.

Little Liu Zi immediately floated down after him, and the two instantly began fighting.

Though that person had good lightness skills, his martial arts were nothing special. Little Liu Zi’s “Zonghe Fist” technique left the person with no ability to fight back. Later Da Batou and Er Batou also arrived. Several men surrounded the person and quickly captured him.

In the courtyard, the person was trussed up thoroughly.

Little Liu Zi muttered a curse: “Dared to steal this old man’s things!” It turned out the person had crawled through the window into Little Liu Zi’s room to commit theft, was discovered by the alert Little Liu Zi, which led to the chase and fight just now.

Under the lamplight, Zu Ye finally got a clear look—it was a young fellow, about seventeen or eighteen years old.

Zu Ye asked coldly: “What petty thief are you?”

The person tilted his head and said nothing.

“Your mother’s cunt!” Da Batou walked up with his cleaver, waving the sharp blade in front of the person’s eyes. “This old man will cleave you!”

The person smiled coldly, motionless as a statue.

“Fuck! Pretty tough, huh!” Er Batou stepped forward to grab the person’s hair.

“Wait!” Zu Ye shouted, then said to the person, “Brother, which path are you from?”

The person smiled: “Not the same path as you lot.”

Zu Ye also smiled, then commanded: “Search him!”

Er Batou responded and stepped forward. Upon hearing “search,” the person became anxious: “You dare! If you dare search me, watch out for your lives!”

Zu Ye was amused: “Such big talk. Search him!”

Er Batou felt around the person’s body, then used a sharp knife to cut open the clothes on his chest, pulling out a thick bundle.

“What is it? Bills?” Er Batou said cheerfully, “So much, must be tens of thousands!”

Seeing Er Batou take the bundle, the person’s face broke out in sweat from anxiety: “You bunch of unruly scoundrels! Touching this thing will cost you your heads! Will cost you your heads! Don’t regret it later!”

Zu Ye heard the hidden meaning in these words. He took the bundle from Er Batou’s hands, shook it, and said: “If you don’t tell us who you are, I’ll burn this thing!” As he spoke, he brought over the lamp, about to light it.

“Don’t, don’t, don’t! We’ll lose our heads! Lose our heads!” The person was sweating profusely in panic.

“Still won’t say who you are?” Zu Ye asked again.

The young man threw his head back: “Fine, fine. Today I’ve fallen into you bandits’ hands. This old man’s name doesn’t change whether walking or sitting—in the jianghu I’m called ‘Sai Huo Hou’—Fan Yifei from Henan!”

This declaration of his moniker was no small matter—everyone present was stunned! “Sai Huo Hou” was a master thief from the Central Plains who had once infiltrated Dai Li’s residence to steal fifty taels of gold and two pocket watches, leaving behind a note that read: Henan’s Sai Huo Hou was here. This incident had caused a huge sensation at the time.

Zu Ye quickly stepped forward: “Truly?”

Fan Yifei nodded: “If I hadn’t been running for four days and nights straight, you think you could have caught me?”

“What’s in here?” Zu Ye shook the bundle.

“If I tell you, will you let me go?” Fan Yifei asked in return.

“If you tell, we might let you go. If you don’t tell, you definitely won’t leave. Figure it out yourself,” Zu Ye said.

Fan Yifei sighed and said helplessly: “Rough maps!”

“What rough maps?”

“See for yourself.”

Zu Ye handed the bundle to Da Batou. Da Batou used his knife to cut open the bundle, revealing a thick stack of drawings.

Zu Ye opened these drawings and examined them carefully. They showed mountains, rivers, and villages sketched in varying detail, with accurate coordinates for each location.

“What is this?” Zu Ye asked.

“Maps,” Fan Yifei said.

“I know they’re maps. What are they for?”

“Sigh, wandering bandits are just wandering bandits—understand nothing!” Fan Yifei looked at Zu Ye with contempt.

“Hmm,” Zu Ye looked coldly at Fan Yifei. “You’ve got nerve!” He then turned: “Old Five, come take a look.”

Wu Batou Zhang Qiling was a walking map—he could draw out any mountain range, city, or river anywhere in the country.

Wu Batou took the drawings and examined them carefully: “Zu Ye, these are maps of the Two Lakes region. Look, this is Hubei, this is Hunan, this is Mount Heng, this is Yuelu Mountain, this is Huping Mountain at the border of the Two Lakes…”

Listening from the side, Fan Yifei’s face turned green.

Zu Ye slowly walked up to Fan Yifei and said harshly: “Where did you get these? What are they for?” Though his voice wasn’t loud, it carried irresistible authority.

“Uh…”

“Speak!” Zu Ye roared, and the sky seemed to tremble.

“The ‘Maintenance Association’ had them made. These rough maps were drawn based on remeasurements of Japanese aerial photographs…” Fan Yifei said trembling.

“‘Maintenance Association’? Aerial photographs?” Zu Ye was puzzled.

“The Japanese established a ‘Maintenance Association’ in my hometown in Henan…”

Before he finished speaking, the faint sound of copper bells came from outside, intermittent and barely audible. Then came several drum beats—ding ding ding, dong dong dong… These ghostly sounds mixed with the cold wind, drawing closer from afar, drifting toward the mountain village.

“Corpse-driving!” The battle-hardened Zu Ye immediately recognized this as the sound of soul-beckoning bells and corpse drums. “Get this kid inside first!”

Da Batou and Er Batou immediately stepped forward, stuffing Fan Yifei’s mouth with cloth and throwing him into the room.

Everyone extinguished the courtyard lights and peered out through the door crack. Under the bright moonlight, a corpse-driving procession slowly passed along a distant path. There were about a dozen “dead bodies,” hopping and bouncing along in a line. At the front was a Daoist priest shaking a bell and scattering paper money. At the rear was someone beating funeral drums. The two sandwiched the dozen or so “zombies” between them, controlling their forward movement. The “zombies” all wore funeral robes with soul-calming talismans pasted on their foreheads and cinnabar in their mouths.

After observing for a while, Er Batou spotted something fishy: “That’s not right. The funeral robes are empty underneath—only a pair of feet hopping on the ground. Which means… what they’re carrying on their backs isn’t dead people. Could it be they also cut off the corpses’ heads?” Er Batou thought of his own corpse-driving experience.

Zu Ye also saw the clue: “Hmm, what they’re carrying on their backs isn’t dead people, so it must be…”

“Silver dollars or opium,” San Batou interjected.

“Hmm.” Zu Ye nodded.

“Zu Ye, shall we do it?” Er Batou turned to look at Zu Ye, awaiting his decision.

Zu Ye said nothing.

“Zu Ye, let’s do it!” San Batou continued, “This opium and silver dollars aren’t things ordinary people can handle. These things either belong to Nationalist warlords or bandits. If we rob them, it’s perfectly justified!”

“That’s right, Zu Ye,” Wu Batou chimed in. “Since we fled Shanghai… our remaining funds aren’t much…”

Zu Ye nodded: “Follow them. We’ll make our move at the corpse-driving inn!”

Hunan has long been known for corpse-driving, which spawned another trade—the appearance of corpse-driving inns. Corpse-driving was ghostly work—corpses couldn’t see sunlight. Once exposed to sun, their souls would scatter. When souls scattered, the corpses would truly become dead bodies and could never stand again. So corpse-driving always happened at night. When dawn approached, they’d quickly seek lodging at a corpse-driving inn, letting the corpses enter the windowless, dim inn. Incantations would be recited to make the corpses lie down. After sunset, they’d cast spells again to continue. Corpse-driving inns were usually set up in remote places far from human habitation. They never accepted living guests, and living people didn’t dare stay there.

The reason Zu Ye wanted to wait until the corpse-driving team entered the inn before acting was to avoid alarming the surrounding common people on the road, and even more to avoid alerting bandits hidden in the mountain hollows.

Zu Ye discussed with several Batous, then everyone went their separate ways to act.

After about half a shichen, the corpse-driving team finally stopped at a corpse-driving inn. The lead corpse-driver knocked lightly on the wooden gate. The innkeeper came out carrying a “ghost lantern.” Ghost lanterns differed from ordinary people’s lanterns—regular lanterns were supported by thin bamboo strips and covered with red or fine paper. Ghost lanterns were made from a plant called white imperata root that grew on graves. This plant’s roots tangled and could penetrate several feet underground. Rural graveyards often had this plant, with roots reaching straight to coffins. The paper covering ghost lanterns also used white funeral paper. The entire lantern was white, especially striking in the darkness.

The corpse-driver exchanged a few quiet words with the innkeeper, then drove all the “dead bodies” into the inn.

The corpse storage room was very large, with the floor covered in rice straw. After the “dead bodies” entered, they all fell down, lying in a row on the straw. The two corpse-drivers then locked the door and went directly with the innkeeper.

At this time, the moon had set and the morning star grew brighter. Er Batou seized the last trace of darkness before dawn, tiptoed to the corpse storage location, and began his operation…

Inside the room, over a dozen “corpses” dragged their exhausted bodies and slept soundly.

As they slept, suddenly one “corpse” sat up, smacking its lips. Then it bent down, putting its face close to another “corpse’s” face beside it, pursed its lips, and continuously blew air, puff after puff onto that “corpse’s” face.

That “corpse” was finally blown awake. Its eyes snapped open and it shouted: “What are you doing?”

The two “corpses” faced each other, both with ghost talismans stuck on their faces, both with bright red cinnabar drooling from the corners of their mouths. The lower “corpse’s” shout also startled the one above: “What are you shouting for? Fuck your mother!”

The lower “corpse” heard the accent was wrong and immediately sat up: “Who are you?”

“I’m a wandering corpse who couldn’t get home, so I followed you all!”

Hearing this, that “corpse” shouted: “Get up quick! There’s an infiltrator! An infiltrator!”

All the “dead bodies” sprang up sitting: “Where? Where?”

The “corpses” were all disguised—at a glance they all looked the same. No one could recognize which was the “infiltrator”!

“Him!” The first shouting “corpse” pointed at another.

The pointed-at “corpse” helplessly spread his hands and shook his head, indicating he wasn’t the infiltrator.

“Then dare you say something for us to hear?”

That “corpse” smiled slightly: “Say your mother’s stinking cunt!”

“It’s him! It’s him!” So all the “corpses” whooshed to their feet and surrounded Er Batou!

Er Batou reached up to remove the ghost talisman from his head, smiling: “You bunch of stupid pricks, Second Master is here—why aren’t you welcoming me?”

“Who are you?” one fellow asked.

“Never mind who—kill him first!” another person said.

“Shh—” Er Batou put his index finger to his lips. “Quieter, quieter.” Then suddenly pulled a shooter (argot for pistol) from his waist. “Make more noise and this old man will blast you!”

The group looked and burst out laughing, leaving Er Batou completely baffled.

Whoosh—over a dozen men all drew pistols from their waists, simultaneously aiming at Er Batou’s head.

Er Batou was instantly dumbfounded. This wasn’t any corpse-driving team—why did they all have guns? He regretted not listening to Zu Ye’s words. Zu Ye had told him to blow sleeping powder, then steal the opium or silver dollars and leave. But because of his mischievous nature and love of pranks, seeing these “corpses” excited him. He’d taken it upon himself to secretly pick the door lock and enter the room to play with these people.

Guarding outside the door, Da Batou heard the wrong sounds from inside and quickly waved his hand behind him. The accompanying Xiao Jiaos all hid. Da Batou cursed inwardly: You stupid Er Gou! This old man told you not to do it this way, but you had to do it this way. Now how do you escape? How do I explain to Zu Ye? You stupid prick!

At that moment the door creaked open. Over a dozen “corpses” escorted Er Batou out.

In the bushes, a Xiao Jiao said quietly: “Da Ye, do we go in?”

Da Batou glared furiously: “Go in for what! Don’t you see they’re all holding guns? Can just us few take them down? These aren’t ordinary people!”

“Then what do we do?” a Xiao Jiao asked.

“You hurry back to report to Zu Ye. I’ll keep watch here,” Da Batou said.

That Xiao Jiao left on his mission.

Zu Ye was waiting anxiously when he saw the Xiao Jiao run back in a panic. He immediately had an ominous premonition. “Zu Ye, bad news, bad news!” The Xiao Jiao ran until he was out of breath.

After hearing the Xiao Jiao’s report, Zu Ye pounded the table in fury: “This bastard! Acting on his own again!”

At this moment, Fan Yifei, lying bound on the ground, struggled desperately, indicating he had something to say.

Zu Ye looked at him and instructed the Xiao Jiao to pull the cloth from his mouth.

Fan Yifei took a deep breath and said: “Did you rob the corpse-driving team?”

Zu Ye looked at him without speaking.

“Did it fail?” Fan Yifei continued. “I have a solution.”

Zu Ye’s eyes lit up.

“But I have one requirement. I’ll help you resolve this matter, you spare my life and let me go,” Fan Yifei said.

Zu Ye pondered for a moment and nodded: “Fine! Tell me first!”

“Then quickly untie me!”

Zu Ye looked at him: “Untie him.”

The Xiao Jiao untied the rope for Fan Yifei.

“You were too rash. When the corpse-driving team came just now, I was going to tell you, but before I could speak you stuffed my mouth. Let me tell you, this isn’t an ordinary corpse-driving procession—these are all people from the Plum Blossom Mansion and the Police Force!” Fan Yifei said.

“Plum Blossom Mansion? Police Force?” Zu Ye detected a hint of something.

“Right. The Plum Blossom Mansion is a Japanese spy organization just established in Jinan, specifically responsible for controlling the ‘Way and Path Sects’ in the Lu-Yu region. The Green Gang, Divine Martial Sect, and various black gangs and charlatans are all under its control. The Police Force, frankly speaking, is a traitor organization formed by Chinese traitors to maintain Japanese rule. The ‘Maintenance Association’ formed by villagers is also under Police Force management.”

“So many people being traitors?” Zu Ye asked. “What benefit is there?”

Fan Yifei glanced at Zu Ye and said disdainfully: “What benefit? You’re a well-fed man who doesn’t know a hungry man’s hunger! There’s food to eat! Won’t starve to death! What other benefit do you want?”

“Don’t the common people love their country?” Zu Ye’s heart went cold.

“They do love it, but loving the country requires eating too! Do you know how many people starved to death in our village? Sixteen were carried out in one day. Joining the ‘Maintenance Association’ at least means having food to eat—the Japanese distribute grain, and children even get candy. Now our area is basically managed by traitors. A whole county has only a few Japanese, the rest are all puppet troops and traitors!”

Zu Ye fell silent, his mood sinking to the depths.

“How do you know all this?” Zu Ye suddenly asked.

“Uh… I live in the Japanese-occupied zone. Do you still want to save your brother or not?” Fan Yifei changed the subject.

“How do we save him?” Zu Ye asked.

“You don’t worry about how. I guarantee your man escapes safely, then we go our separate ways. Deal?”

Zu Ye looked at him coldly: “Fine, it’s settled!”

“But one thing—planning is human, success is heaven’s will. It depends on whether your brother keeps his mouth shut!” Fan Yifei added.

“What do you mean?” Zu Ye asked.

“Your captured brother—as long as he hasn’t revealed your true identity as bandits before we arrive, there’s hope. If he’s revealed it, it’s finished,” Fan Yifei said.

Until this moment, Fan Yifei still believed Zu Ye’s group were bandits entrenched in the mountains.

“Don’t worry, my brother keeps his mouth shut.”

“Hmm, you come with me. Just follow my arrangements…” Fan Yifei quietly told Zu Ye his plan.

“They’ll listen to you?” After hearing, Zu Ye asked doubtfully.

“Employ people without suspicion, suspect people without employing them! Do you want to save your brother or not?” Fan Yifei asked in return.

Zu Ye smiled: “Fine! We’ll do as you say!”

Zu Ye turned back and summoned San Batou and Si Batou, whispering in their ears. Then he brought Little Liu Zi and left together with Fan Yifei.

By now, dawn was breaking. The three rushed along the road and arrived at the corpse-driving inn.

Fan Yifei stood before the door and called out loudly: “Brothers, be quiet! Outside the fire nest, eagle claw suns are passing through!”

Zu Ye silently pondered this argot—translated to plain speech it meant: Brothers don’t speak, there’s a big shot outside!

The two corpse-drivers heard this voice, looked around, and came out. Seeing it was Fan Yifei, they quickly said: “Why are you back again?” Looking behind him, seeing another person standing there, they stepped back in fright: “Who is he?”

“Brothers, this is the founding ancestor eagle claw sun of the local mountain!” Fan Yifei meant: This is the founding bandit chief of the local area, an old bandit.

“A friend from the same path, let’s talk inside,” Fan Yifei said in more argot, indicating they should go inside to talk.

The two corpse-drivers looked at each other and said loudly: “Please!”

After entering and sitting down, Fan Yifei said with a smile: “The great flood washed away the Dragon King’s temple—one family didn’t recognize another family. This person is the pillar leader of several nearby mountain strongholds—Hong Batian, in jianghu known as Hong Tiger, Hong Wu Ye.” As he spoke he pointed to Zu Ye.

Zu Ye cupped his fists: “Gentlemen, this old one failed to teach properly. One of my subordinates didn’t follow the rules and disturbed you two gentlemen. Where there was offense, please forgive!”

Those two quickly returned the gesture: “Hong Wu Ye’s power shakes Xiang and E. Meeting you today, we are fortunate, fortunate!”

Fan Yifei smiled: “We’re all one family. We who make a living by corpse-driving in the jianghu also borrow Hong Wu Ye’s territory to pass through. Where there’s offense, please ask Fifth Master to be magnanimous!”

“Not at all, not at all. It’s my subordinate who didn’t follow the rules. If your property suffered any loss, I’ll compensate double!” Zu Ye said.

“No! No!” A corpse-driver quickly said. “Someone come!”

A “zombie” walked out from the inner room.

“Release the person,” the corpse-driver said.

“What?” That “zombie” said with blood-red lips.

“I said—release the person!” The corpse-driver suddenly intensified his tone.

“Yes!”

Er Batou was pushed out by several “zombies.”

“Zu Ye!” Seeing Zu Ye, Er Batou shouted in surprise.

Zu Ye glared at him fiercely. Er Batou immediately understood and said no more.

The corpse-driver continued: “Hong Wu Ye, take your man. We’re borrowing the territory for a brief rest, and will leave when dark comes.”

Zu Ye nodded: “Don’t disturb the common people, don’t bully women, and you gentlemen can move freely. Otherwise, I Hong Tiger won’t agree.”

The corpse-driver also nodded: “Hong Wu Ye, rest assured!”

Zu Ye untied Er Batou. The two exchanged glances briefly, and Er Batou grasped Zu Ye’s meaning.

Suddenly, Zu Ye’s long sleeve flicked, and a flying nail shot out, heading straight for one “zombie’s” head. That fellow had no defense—the iron nail went straight into his skull. With a crack, both head and body were nailed to the pillar. This “zombie” truly became a dead corpse!

Er Batou quickly turned, grabbed a “zombie’s” neck with his reverse hand. That fellow struggled desperately. Er Batou raised his knee and slammed it into the man’s groin. With a pop, the testicles shattered like eggs. Er Batou increased force with his hand—crack—that fellow’s neck broke.

Simultaneously, Little Liu Zi’s hands released throwing darts, hitting the eyes of two “zombies” behind. The iron nails pierced through eyeballs into the brain. The two “zombies” instantly went limp.

Seeing this, the two corpse-drivers hastily drew guns from their waists. Zu Ye’s eyes and hands were quick—two more flying nails shot out. Those two men’s hands were pierced through, and the guns fell to the ground. Immediately Zu Ye and Er Batou picked up the guns, pointing the barrels at the two corpse-drivers’ heads.

Over a dozen “zombies” in the inner room heard the commotion and all rushed out, each drawing guns and aiming at Zu Ye and the others.

“Make them put down their guns!” Zu Ye pressed the gun against a corpse-driver and said, “Make them put them down!” His voice was so loud it seemed ready to overturn the entire inn.

The corpse-driver, dragging his bloody hand, said nervously: “Put them down, put all the guns down!”

The group looked at each other. One of them said: “If we put them down, we’re all dead for sure!”

“Fuck your mother, put them down!” The corpse-driver became anxious. “This is Hong Wu Ye! Most devoted to jianghu righteousness! Won’t harm us!”

Fan Yifei was stunned watching, stammering to Zu Ye: “What are you doing? I… I… I’m not managing this anymore, it’s not my business… I… I’m leaving!” Having said this, his toes touched the ground, and with one bound he shot out the door.

Da Batou, San Batou and others had been waiting outside for a long time. Fan Yifei made one shuffling step before he could steady himself, but was rushed by Da Batou hiding behind the door who punched him in the temple. Fan Yifei’s eyes rolled back and he fainted.

Immediately, over a dozen brothers outside rushed in with Da Batou.

“Put down your guns! Put down your guns!” Da Batou held up his shooter, with brothers behind him holding gleaming sabers.

That group of “zombies” saw this formation and didn’t know how many more people were outside. They thought they’d really stirred up a bandit’s nest today.

Finally, the “zombies” all threw their pistols on the ground.

This was the first batch of firearms Zu Ye had captured on any significant scale. Previously, at the hall, Zu Ye had been unwilling to let his brothers handle firearms—first because they were hard to manage, and second because he feared causing trouble. So the hall only kept a few guns for self-defense. Now, with war and chaos everywhere and them wandering displaced, Zu Ye had long felt they must arm the brothers. Otherwise, on unfamiliar ground, if they encountered bandits, black gangs, roving thieves, or even Nationalist remnant troops, it would be difficult to deal with them. This was perfect—they’d seized over a dozen guns in one go.

Moreover, they’d disarmed this corpse-driving team without firing a single shot. This was the strategy Zu Ye had designed before setting out. He told San Batou and the others to quietly follow behind, then find Da Batou and coordinate from inside and outside to destroy this corpse-driving team in one stroke. Unless absolutely necessary, they must not fire guns to avoid alarming real bandits nearby.

What Zu Ye didn’t yet know was that he’d seized not merely a dozen guns. This group disguised as a corpse-driving team was smuggling neither opium nor silver dollars—what they carried in the back baskets was the Japanese’s weighty conspiracy!

In 1928, “On Napoleon,” translated by Wu Guangjian, vice president of the Chinese Educational Association, was published in China. This was the first time the Chinese masses encountered this European god of land warfare through a biographical novel. Regarding Napoleon, the Japanese had studied him earlier than the Chinese. As early as the Meiji Restoration period, the Japanese military began extensively collecting materials on Napoleon and his classic battles.

The Japanese military was astonished to discover that an important reason Napoleon could win every battle and sweep all before him was his attention to detail. Napoleon could clearly remember the positions, widths, flow directions, and water volumes of over a thousand European rivers. He could accurately state the heights, widths, wind directions of over a hundred mountain peaks, how many gorges each mountain had, and the spans and depths of those gorges. He even grasped details like where there was a mound in a pasture, where there was a small pit, and how many soldiers could hide in that small pit.

Therefore, whenever he fought, he deployed troops like a god. Even his enemies were willing to join his ranks to fight for him. This enabled him to dominate the European continent for over ten years without rival.

The Japanese, rich in militaristic thought, deeply worshipped such war gods. Before the full-scale invasion of China, Japanese espionage organizations had already begun drawing Chinese maps. The Chinese maps drawn by the Japanese were many times more precise than those drawn by the Chinese themselves. Before the September 18th Incident, an old teacher working in Northeast China happened to obtain a Chinese map drawn by the Japanese. After looking at it, the very next day he mobilized his entire family to migrate south. When a country could draw another country’s maps so precisely, it surely had major designs. As a teacher, he was powerless to save the country and could only protect his family from the chaos of war.

After the full-scale invasion war erupted, the Japanese military placed even more emphasis on revising operational maps. Wherever a river changed course, wherever forests were destroyed—as long as the terrain changed slightly, they would quickly make corresponding modifications.

“Tell the truth,” Zu Ye said coldly to Fan Yifei. Actually, he’d long since discovered this kid Fan Yifei was suspicious, seemingly hiding many things.

Fan Yifei, who had just regained consciousness, sighed helplessly: “Fine. I’m in league with that corpse-driving group.”

“Hmm. Continue.”

“We’re not really corpse-drivers. We disguise ourselves as a corpse-driving procession to draw real maps based on Japanese aerial photographs. If we walked openly around the Nationalist-controlled areas, we’d easily be exposed. Even if the Nationalist army didn’t discover us, we’d arouse bandits’ suspicions. Disguised as a corpse-driving team, there’s no problem. Every time we cross a mountain, every time we pass through a village, we precisely record the terrain and coordinates of each location, then take these rough maps back for the Japanese side to draw operational maps. At the border of Hunan and Hubei, there are five corpse-driving teams like ours. The Japanese saw my lightness skills were good, so they had me handle transmitting the drawings. The drawings you searched from me just now are the results of these five teams over the past month. If my hands hadn’t itched and I couldn’t resist stealing from you, I’d already be in Wuhan by now,” Fan Yifei said.

“Are there teams like yours all over the country?” Zu Ye asked.

“Yes. There are even more in Henan, Anhui, and Jiangsu. The Japanese are extremely strict about maps—operational maps must absolutely be the most current. A while ago, Old Jiang blew up the Yellow River, causing it to change course and split into two torrents, spanning Henan, Anhui, and Jiangsu provinces, rushing straight to the Huai River. This created a flood zone 80 kilometers wide and 400 kilometers long. The geography of these places was completely transformed by the flood—villages didn’t look like villages, counties didn’t look like counties, hills weren’t hills, forests weren’t forests… But this also disrupted the Japanese plan to rapidly attack Wuhan and conquer the Two Lakes! After the Japanese army took Shandong, their next plan was to invade the Chinese heartland. To fight deep into the Two Lakes, the Japanese couldn’t bypass Henan, Anhui, Jiangsu and other places—they couldn’t bypass these flood zones, and had to pay special attention to and utilize these flood zones. What does warfare depend on? Operational maps! Now this landscape spanning over 30,000 square kilometers has completely changed. If you were Japanese, wouldn’t you also need to redraw the operational maps?”

Zu Ye pondered for a moment and nodded.

“The military department demands mapmakers be accurate to the slightest detail! Operational maps have both the precise coordinates of ordinary maps and markings for advancing and retreating troops—they can fully expose one side’s combat intentions! What does drawing operational maps rely on? First, old military maps; second, aerial photographs taken by planes. Aerial photographs are more accurate than old maps and can more truly and timely reflect the terrain of a certain area. But aerial photographs are just photos. To be truly practical, they must be converted into maps with accurate coordinates. So people like us come in handy. How high is each mountain peak, how many mountain paths does each mountain have, how wide are the paths, how many caves does each peak have, how many soldiers can hide in each cave—all this must be carefully marked.”

The more Zu Ye listened, the colder his heart grew. The devils really racked their brains to invade China! What we’re losing isn’t just weapons and equipment, but even more so, attention to detail.

“Every corpse-driving team has a Japanese spy. Of the two corpse-drivers you captured, the one in charge of beating the funeral drum is the Japanese spy!” Fan Yifei added.

“Hmm?” Zu Ye’s eyes lit up. “Bring that person to me immediately!”

“Yes!” Da Batou acknowledged the order.

“Too late,” Fan Yifei said.

“What?” Zu Ye was puzzled.

At this moment, Er Batou, who was in charge of guarding that group, rushed in urgently and said quietly: “Zu Ye, bad news—one fellow killed himself by ramming!”

“What?”

“Killed himself by ramming. Used great force, rammed into the wall. His brains spilled out,” Er Batou said.

“Japanese will never surrender even unto death. As long as they’re caught, they’ll find an opportunity to kill themselves,” Fan Yifei said.

Zu Ye couldn’t help but sigh: No wonder they say the devils are formidable. Even a common soldier is so unafraid of death. If it were my brothers captured by the Japanese, perhaps they wouldn’t do this.

Deep in the night, Zu Ye was undecided.

“Zu Ye, kill them or not?” Da Batou asked.

Thirteen lives. Though they were traitors, they were all Chinese after all. Zu Ye had never killed so many people at once. The cold wind blew into his collar. Zu Ye didn’t know what came over him—at that moment he thought of Huang Farong. He wanted to hear her opinion and couldn’t help blurting out: “Fa…”

“Send what? Send them into exile?” Da Batou pressed.

Zu Ye looked at him, realized he’d lost composure, and forcibly swallowed the second half of the sentence. He paced in the room for a long while, finally sighing: “Make it quick. Don’t let them suffer.”

“Yes!”

Zu Ye kept Fan Yifei behind and made him watch with his own eyes as those people were beheaded. Where the blade’s light passed, heads rolled down.

Fan Yifei was so frightened his heart nearly jumped into his throat.

“Do you know why I kept you?” Zu Ye asked Fan Yifei.

“No… no… no idea,” Fan Yifei said trembling.

“Because I feel you’re still human.”

Hearing this, Fan Yifei’s eyes grew hot and tears fell.

The next day, Zu Ye convened a Council Meeting.

“I propose reforming the hall,” Zu Ye said.

Everyone looked at each other: “Please, Zu Ye, explain clearly.”

“Before Master Zhang died, he left an oral instruction that the hall should temporarily establish five Batou positions. He said ‘five’ was the number of loyalty and righteousness, expressing hope that the hall brothers would display loyal hearts and righteous courage to overcome difficulties together. Now the hall has been through life and death many times, and all brothers have been tested through long trials—their loyal hearts and righteous courage are fully displayed. Now we’re wandering outside on unfamiliar ground, with risks emerging endlessly, which is unfavorable for the hall’s safety and even more unfavorable for setting up schemes. Therefore, I intend to expand the Batou scale and establish a sixth Batou position. This Batou will command a group of brothers, specifically responsible for reconnaissance for schemes and the entire hall’s security affairs. What do you all think?”

The Batous and Xiao Jiaos listened carefully. They felt Zu Ye was far-sighted and spoke very reasonably, so they said in unison: “Zu Ye is brilliant!”

“The position of Liu Batou is extraordinary. The one who takes this role must have strong martial arts. Who do you think should take this position?” Zu Ye asked.

“Little Liu Zi!” San Batou was first to grasp Zu Ye’s meaning.

“Right! Right! Little Liu Zi!” Everyone called out together.

Leading Little Liu Zi to defeat the corpse-driving team was Zu Ye’s final test of Little Liu Zi. His comprehension and reaction abilities all earned Zu Ye’s full marks.

Thus, amid cheers, seventeen-year-old Little Liu Zi became Sixth Master. Fan Yifei, one year older than him, was assigned under his command. Fan Yifei finally understood what Zu Ye’s group did and suddenly had a feeling of regretting meeting them so late. He kept kowtowing to Zu Ye, swearing to follow Zu Ye in carrying out the way of heaven, robbing the rich to help the poor, and serving Zu Ye loyally for life!

At first, Fan Yifei was somewhat unconvinced, especially regarding the rooftop chase that night. Fan Yifei had always believed he only lost to Little Liu Zi because he hadn’t eaten enough and had traveled continuously. Later Little Liu Zi found an opportunity for the two to compete again in the forest—this was arranged by Zu Ye to make Fan Yifei completely convinced.

In the forest, two towering trees each hung a lantern. Whoever climbed to the treetop first to retrieve the lantern would win. Those trees were over twenty meters tall, shooting straight to the clouds, dizzying just to look at. At Zu Ye’s command, both took a running start and scrambled up the trees like monkeys, using hands and feet to climb up rapidly.

When Little Liu Zi plucked his lantern, Fan Yifei was still an arm’s length away from his lantern. At this moment, an astonishing scene appeared: Little Liu Zi actually held the lantern in his mouth, leaped with all his might, and flew from his tree to another tree six meters away, plucked the other lantern, then performed several inverted moves and floated down. Everyone was dumbfounded.

After Fan Yifei came down from the tree, he said nothing and dropped to his knees before Little Liu Zi with a thump: “Sixth Master!”

Zu Ye smiled knowingly.

Just when Zu Ye was reforming the hall and things were temporarily calm, he never imagined an even greater disaster was slowly approaching. Those aerial photographs and maps were far from as simple as Fan Yifei thought…

The Japanese Bombard the Supreme Lord Lao Jun Temple

At the Plum Blossom Mansion in Shandong, Kodama Yoshio’s face was gloomy.

“Thirteen shells and none exploded?” Kodama Yoshio asked angrily.

“Yes,” a spy answered.

“Are you saying the Supreme Lord Lao Jun manifested his divine presence?”

“Uh…” The spy dared not answer.

Not only did Kodama Yoshio dare not believe it, even all Chinese people dared not believe this matter. In June 1938, the Japanese army attacked Luyi County. The Japanese palace religious organization, well-versed in feng shui, provided intelligence to the military: Luyi County had the ancestral temple of Laozi, founder of Chinese Daoism. If they destroyed Laozi’s temple, the root of Chinese culture would be severed.

Laozi’s temple was also called Lao Jun Temple. Legend had it that after Laozi achieved the Dao and ascended to heaven, he joined the ranks of immortals, becoming the Supreme Lord Lao Jun of heaven. Later generations built a temple shrine at the place where he ascended to commemorate him, naming the platform from which he ascended “Lao Jun Platform.” Lao Jun Platform had thirty-three levels from bottom to top, secretly corresponding to the saying that Laozi ascended to the thirty-three heavens.

At the same time, Kodama Yoshio also received reliable intelligence that not far from Lao Jun Platform was a Chinese military arsenal. If they could ignite the arsenal while bombarding Lao Jun Platform, then Luyi County could be blown to smithereens and the Imperial Army could drive straight in!

The vicious Japanese spy quickly reported this intelligence to the Japanese military department. The military department ordered: Bombard Lao Jun Platform!

In 1938, on the fourth day of the fifth lunar month, the Japanese army brought out mortars. A Japanese soldier named Umekawa Taro was responsible for firing the shells. Looking at the towering and majestic Lao Jun Platform, Umekawa Taro’s heart pounded. An inexplicable fear and awe surged up. He tremblingly put the shell into the barrel. With a “bang,” the shell was propelled out. The devils waited quietly. All was silent. After quite a while, they still heard no sound.

“What’s the situation?” Umekawa Taro was as anxious as a wounded cat.

“Did you actually put in a shell just now?” The surrounding people also began to suspect this was an illusion.

“I did,” Umekawa Taro said, confused. As he spoke, he picked up another shell and stuffed it into the barrel. With a “bang,” the shell flew out again, drawing an arc in the sky and landing on Lao Jun Platform. The devils were waiting to cheer at the explosion when an incredible scene occurred: the shell didn’t explode either, but rolled jingling down the steps.

“This isn’t a dream, is it!” Umekawa Taro looked at the people around him, then at Lao Jun Platform.

“Let me do it!” A devil leader kicked Umekawa Taro aside and consecutively stuffed eleven shells into the mortar. The shells flew out one by one. A shocking scene appeared: all the shells became duds, not one exploded.

All the Japanese soldiers present were scared silly and dared not fire any more shells. Later, common people spread rumors that the thirteen shells were eaten by the stone ox in front of Lao Jun Temple. (To this day, those unexploded shells are still displayed in Lao Jun Temple in Luyi as powerful evidence of the Japanese invasion of China, and they bear witness to how Chinese civilization has endured countless catastrophes yet continues endlessly. In 1980, Umekawa Taro, who had been ordered to fire the shells that year, returned to this magical land of Luyi and bowed his guilty head before Lao Jun Platform many times. In the following years, Umekawa Taro became a regular visitor to Luyi County, coming from time to time to offer incense and kowtow to Laozi to show repentance and atonement.)

Kodama Yoshio was troubled by this matter when a spy came in to report: “The corpse-driving team in Hunan was wiped out, and some of the drawings were also lost.”

Kodama Yoshio was so angry he showed his fangs and claws: “Who did it?”

“Don’t know.”

Kodama Yoshio’s heart was furious. He then thought of those “Celestial Beings” burned alive during the Wuhan scheme, couldn’t help thinking of “Jiang Xiang Sect” again, then thought of the enormous conspiracy hidden in those drawings, and couldn’t help breaking out in cold sweat.

“Noda-kun!” Kodama Yoshio shouted.

“Yes!” A spy named Noda Yoshikazu answered.

“Within one month, find the whereabouts of ‘Jiang Xiang Sect.’ Otherwise, you need never return to the Great Empire of Japan.” As he spoke, Kodama Yoshio handed Noda Yoshikazu a military sword for ritual suicide.

“Yes!”

Noda returned to his quarters and carefully combed through recent intelligence submitted by heads of “Way and Path Sects” nationwide. After looking for a long time, he couldn’t make sense of anything. In anger, he raised his hand and overturned the table.

After Nishida Yoshiko’s death, Noda took over her position, responsible for commanding all the Chinese traitors in the “Way and Path Sects.” Since the Zhoushan incident, Zheng the Half-Immortal of Jiaodong’s “Jade Ruler Way,” Liu the Blind Man of Beiping’s “Heavenly Sage Way,” Long Yufeng of Tianjin’s “Jasper Pool Way,” Ding Zixia of Manchuria’s “Purple Cloud Hall,” Mei Xuanzi of Shanghai’s “Plum Blossom Society,” and Pei Jinglong of Baoding’s “Imperial Ultimate Way” all left their lives in Zhoushan. This caused serious damage to the vitality of the “Way and Path Sects” group controlled by the Japanese. Members of other “Way and Path Sects” who went to the island also suffered over half casualties. Only the people from “Jiang Xiang Sect” all escaped. This became one piece of strong evidence for Kodama Yoshio’s deduction that this scheme was “Jiang Xiang Sect’s” doing.

But Kodama Yoshio was like a mute eating bitter herbs—had suffering he couldn’t speak of. Manipulating the “Way and Path Sects” to make them one of the powerful tools for the Japanese invasion of China was Kodama Yoshio’s proud achievement in the military, highly praised by the military department and the Emperor. But this time, trying to steal a chicken only to lose the rice, he could only tell superiors this was due to inadequate investigation of Zhoushan’s geography, tides, and distribution of poisonous snakes on the island when constructing the “Japan-China Friendly Divination Exchange Institute.” But in his heart, he already hated “Jiang Xiang Sect” to the point of gnashing his teeth, especially Zu Ye—he couldn’t wait to flay and dismember Zu Ye!

Noda knew well his superior’s ruthless cruelty. If he couldn’t complete this mission, he’d probably really have to enter Yasukuni Shrine. Just when he was at his wit’s end, a spy came to report that Jiang Tiancheng of Manchuria’s “Shuntian Sect” had come to see him.

This old fox had been scolded by Zu Ye during the divination debate competition until his asthma flared up and he nearly died. Later he was chased by poisonous snakes until he nearly wet his pants. He swore: If I don’t avenge this, I’m not a man!

“Your Excellency,” Jiang Tiancheng entered with a smiling face. “I have a plan that can force ‘Jiang Xiang Sect’ out!”

“Speak,” Noda glanced at him.

“Your Excellency…” Jiang Tiancheng smiled mysteriously and explained in detail.

After hearing, Noda laughed heartily: “This plan is excellent! If this matter succeeds, Master Jiang will have great merit. When Great East Asia achieves peace and co-prosperity, Master Jiang will be Manchukuo’s first National Guardian Master.”

Jiang Tiancheng chuckled: “This old one is already past sixty. Duke Tai met King Wen at eighty, yet I met an enlightened ruler twenty years earlier than him. This is this old one’s fortune!”

Immediately, Jiang Tiancheng brought several disciples and secretly departed from Shandong, heading straight for Shanghai.

At Shanghai’s “Heavenly Sage Way” main helm, Zuo Yongchan hobbled out on crutches to greet them. Sect Leader Zuo had been bitten on the left leg by a poisonous snake that day in Zhoushan. If the Japanese gu master hadn’t rescued him in time, he’d probably have died long ago. To prevent the poisoned blood from flowing backward, they had no choice but to saw off his left leg. From then on, Sect Leader Zuo could only sit to “propagate the dharma.” His vajra guardians had to explain to the several hundred “Blue Robes” below: “Sect Leader Zuo severed his leg seeking the dharma, using a formless body to comprehend the Great Dao’s formless techniques—this is a sage’s act! The Sect Leader has penetrated the mysteries of heaven and earth. Henceforth he will no longer appear to teach the dharma, but will sit in meditation and enter samadhi, wandering the four seas, making friends with all the star deities of heaven, praying blessings for all living beings.”

After Jiang Tiancheng and Zuo Yongchan met, they dismissed the left and right dharma protectors and the two spoke alone.

“Sect Leader Zuo, how have you been?” Jiang Tiancheng said, looking at Zuo Yongchan’s severed leg.

Zuo Yongchan felt Jiang Tiancheng’s gloating way of asking was very uncomfortable. He immediately smiled coldly: “Can’t compare to Master Jiang—backed by a great tree, good for enjoying the shade.”

Jiang Tiancheng stroked his goatee and also smiled: “Grievances have heads, debts have owners—it’s all the fault of that ‘Jiang Xiang Sect’s’ Zu Ye. Working well with the Imperial Army, with food and drink and fame and status—what a good thing. But no, had to make it a fight to the death. The youth isn’t worth consulting! Now the Imperial Army has already occupied one-third of China. Fight for another year or so, and when Chiang Kai-shek’s remnant forces are all used up, all of China will belong to Japan. At that time, you and I will both be meritorious ministers protecting the nation, palace religious masters!”

Zuo Yongchan smiled disdainfully: “Don’t talk about those things we can’t see or touch. Master Jiang, what instruction do you have in gracing this humble dwelling with your presence?”

Jiang Tiancheng nodded: “Noda-kun’s written order—take a look.” As he spoke, he handed a secret letter to Zuo Yongchan.

Zuo Yongchan took it doubtfully, slowly opened it, and after reading, his expression grew serious. Then he looked up to the sky and laughed: “Hahaha, Noda-kun truly has great wisdom…”

Watching Zuo Yongchan’s self-satisfied appearance, Jiang Tiancheng secretly gloated: You stupid prick, this was this old man’s idea. But this old man can’t tell you, otherwise you, this cripple, would be even more jealous of this old man! Great achievers accomplish great things. Just wait and see how this old man becomes Manchukuo’s first National Guardian Master!

Thinking this, Jiang Tiancheng said: “Sect Leader Zuo, this matter can’t be done without you. Years ago when the Jianghuai region was divided three ways, that Zu Ye’s subordinate Si Batou Qi Chunfu was once bribed by Sect Leader Zuo and used as a blade. Now this ghost is dead, but his wandering spirit persists. The time has come for Sect Leader Zuo to display his great skills!”

Zuo Yongchan chuckled: “Qi Chunfu could also be considered an intelligent person. Back then, to kill Zu Ye, he betrayed and sided with Mei Xuanzi, then used the conflict between me and Mei Xuanzi to reveal some true and false information to me to swindle my silver. Such a disloyal and unrighteous person—his death isn’t worth regretting. So after I figured out the ins and outs of the relationships, I revealed his information to ‘Jiang Xiang Sect.’ That Zu Ye used this as a clue to follow the vine to the melon and cut down this fellow. However, when this fellow was my informant back then, it seems he never revealed information about Zu Ye’s personal affairs…”

Jiang Tiancheng smiled coldly: “Sect Leader Zuo, Noda-kun has placed great hopes in you.”

Zuo Yongchan yawned wearily and said: “Let me think carefully. Master Jiang has traveled a long way—rest a moment first. We’ll discuss further shortly.”

Having said this, he summoned a disciple. Supported by the disciple, he hobbled out.

Watching Zuo Yongchan’s bobbing back, Jiang Tiancheng revealed a sinister smile…

“Liaofan’s Four Lessons”

These past few days, something was wrong—Zu Ye was constantly restless. The Batous and Xiao Jiaos were all planning matters for re-entering the jianghu, but Zu Ye didn’t say a word.

What consequences would come from raising the banner “Number One Fortune-Teller of Jianghuai” at this border of Hunan and Hubei where Nationalists and Communists divided territory, bandits ran rampant, and the devils coveted—Zu Ye had no certainty in his heart. Ninth Master Wang Yaqiao was dead, Zeng Jingwu had joined the Communists, Jiang Feiyan was far away in Guangxi… Zu Ye’s heart was full of confusion, and he thought again of Huang Farong.

If Huang Farong were here, she could help Zu Ye devise strategies. Right or wrong, she could always ease Zu Ye’s mind. She was rebellious, she dared to speak. Though she always made Zu Ye unhappy, she dared speak truth and could make Zu Ye think about the same problem from a different angle. Right now Zu Ye needed this kind of rebelliousness, the kind that could bring impact to his thinking! But these current Batous all treated Zu Ye with utmost respect—what Zu Ye said was law, with not one daring to contradict him. Zu Ye felt so powerless.

At this moment, Zu Ye returned to the feeling he’d had when his family was destroyed and relatives died—an inexplicable sense of loneliness surged up. Alone and helpless, with no one to help him, he could only rely on himself to support himself forward. He suddenly remembered when he was eight years old, his mother had invited a Daoist to tell his fortune. That Daoist gave him several judgments: “Fate commits the Heavenly Lone Star of Calamity. Fate is solitary, solitary enough to exterminate all things—seedlings won’t grow for ten li, grass won’t be seen for eight li. Lifelong without noble people to help, lean on a mountain and the mountain falls, lean on a river and the river dries. Fate lies in being an ambitious hero, fortune lies in being a trapped dragon. Life ends at fifty, without sons or heirs. Six types of relatives should avoid from afar.”

This frightened his mother to tears on the spot. She quickly asked: “Master, is there a way to resolve this?”

The Daoist shook his head.

Mother became even more anxious: “If fate can be calculated but cannot be resolved, what use is the sage’s creation of the Yi?” Zu Ye’s mother was the daughter of a late Qing examination candidate. From childhood she read extensively and had studied the Book of Changes, which is why she had such a startling question.

This was also the question countless common people, even countless Yi scholars, continuously asked through the river of history: Do people really have fate? Can fate really be calculated? If calculated, can it be changed? If it can’t be changed, why did the sage invent the Book of Changes? Just to add worries for later generations and prepay troubles?

That Daoist sighed and said: “As for methods of resolution, you could say there are, you could say there aren’t.”

Mother didn’t understand: “Master, what does this mean?”

The Daoist asked in return: “What does Madam mean by methods of resolution?”

Mother thought for a moment and said: “For example, feng shui adjustments, drawing talismans and reciting incantations, changing names, recognizing godparents, or transferring fortune, changing fortune, or asking you to perform rituals, or wearing certain ornaments, like jade pendants, Buddhist beads, peace talismans…”

After hearing this, the Daoist looked up to the sky and laughed, noncommittal. He then asked Zu Ye’s mother in return: “Madam, let me ask you—do you think these methods work?”

“I don’t know, but common people often do these things,” Mother answered.

The Daoist nodded and said: “Seeking good fortune and avoiding misfortune is human nature. Everyone wants to live a few more years, everyone wants wealth and honor, everyone wants to avoid disaster, everyone wants to marry into a good family or marry a good wife, everyone wants descendants filling the hall and filial children. But Madam, look around at this world—each person’s fate is always different. Whether you acknowledge it or not, people have fate. Therefore, the sage created the Yi, hoping later generations would understand their own fate.”

“Master speaks extremely correctly,” Mother said.

That Daoist continued: “After people understand their own fate, they want to change it. The bad want to become good, the good want to become better—this is human nature, beyond reproach. But for methods of change, people place their hopes on those crooked ways. Madam, think carefully…” At this point, the Daoist suddenly raised his voice. “If drawing talismans and reciting incantations, adjusting feng shui, changing names, and such techniques could make fate change, then fate would be too easy to change! Those beggars on the street—if we change their names and change the place they live, can they become rich men? Definitely not! Those terminally ill people—if we draw talismans and perform rituals for them, hold ceremonies, can we make them not die? Absolutely not! Those who should die will still die! Those fortune-tellers who shout all day about changing names and altering fortune for this person,催 wealth and extending life for that person—if they could really do it, they wouldn’t be running around the streets telling fortunes to earn this hard money. They’d long ago hide somewhere, summon a great fortune, then live for several hundred years, beautifully enjoying wealth and honor!”

Mother listened dumbfounded, suddenly having a feeling of sudden enlightenment.

The Daoist continued loudly: “Madam has read extensively and must know the anecdotes of sages. That First Emperor of Qin gathered all the world’s sorcerers, exhausted all methods, consumed all elixirs, yet couldn’t extend his life by a single day! That Han Dynasty’s Jing Fang was a master of the six-line method—calculating heaven, earth, people, and events with unfailing accuracy—yet couldn’t escape his own death! That Three Kingdoms’ Zhuge Kongming possessed the arts of heaven and earth’s creation, could summon wind and rain, reached the pinnacle of achievement, yet ultimately couldn’t save the crumbling Han dynasty! That Song Dynasty’s Shao Kangjie, whose Supreme Principles Governing the World spanned past and present, whose Plum Blossom Divination spread throughout the land, yet on his deathbed said he didn’t believe in fate! That Ming Dynasty’s Liu Bowen, who knew five hundred years before and five hundred years after, knew he would die yet couldn’t escape, resentfully drinking Hu Weiyong’s poison—if he could resolve disasters, he should have resolved one for himself!”

Zu Ye’s mother listened with shock and awe. A feeling of sudden enlightenment surged up. After pondering a moment, she couldn’t help asking: “Are you saying the Book of Changes can only calculate but cannot resolve?”

The Daoist sighed and said: “Of course it can resolve! It’s just that most people in the world pursue the trivial while neglecting the essential, sullying the sages’ original intention in creating the Yi. Madam, look—in this Book of Changes, all sixty-four hexagrams discuss principles of how to be human. Through hexagram images and the corresponding relationships between lines, hexagram texts and line texts are produced. Through the Ten Wings, philosophies of being human are explained. Speaking back and forth, the entire text discusses one ultimate principle—’Families that accumulate goodness will surely have abundant blessings; families that accumulate evil will surely have abundant calamities!’ Broken down further, under the premise of ‘goodness,’ it discusses specific methods and principles for being human. For example, the first of the sixty-four hexagrams, the Qian hexagram, requires people to ‘As heaven’s movement is ever vigorous, so must a gentleman ceaselessly strive to strengthen himself.’ It admonishes people to be like heaven—self-reliant, self-strengthening, endlessly vital, not to abandon or give up on oneself, not to be slack or lazy. Look at the second hexagram, Kun—it requires people to ‘As earth’s condition is receptive devotion, so must a gentleman with his generous virtue support all things.’ One must be like the earth, have a tolerant heart, not be jealous, not scheme against others, otherwise one will suffer the consequences. There’s also what people often say about extremes reversing, bad fortune turning to good—’Pi’ and ‘Tai’ are two hexagrams among the sixty-four. They admonish people that when life is at a low point, don’t lose heart, don’t lose your conscience, don’t go mad. As long as you persist in the way of goodness, everything will get better…”

Zu Ye’s mother was entranced listening, feeling this old gentleman spoke so reasonably! Suddenly she felt something was wrong and quickly asked: “Master, according to your view, we can only wait to be tormented by fate? Facing various disasters, can we only accept passively and be helpless?”

The Daoist shook his head and said: “The Book of Changes has already given us the answer! This is the ignorance and shortsightedness of the masses. Look, I’ve spoken for so long, yet Madam still hasn’t comprehended…”

Mother’s face reddened: “Please, Master, explain clearly!”

“Do good! Do good! Do good!” The Daoist said three times.

Mother was startled: “Oh, I understand!”

The Daoist smiled slightly: “You could say you understand, you could say you don’t. Let me give Madam a book. Madam should study it carefully—the method to save your son is all within!” He then pulled from his bosom a book yellowed with age and handed it to Zu Ye’s mother.

Mother took it and looked—it was a book called “Liaofan’s Four Lessons.” When Mother looked up again, the Daoist had already disappeared. She stood stunned, then returned to her room to study it carefully. Later, Mother often told Zu Ye about the characters and stories in this book. This was a treasure manual for changing fate.

The book recorded such a story: In the twelfth year of Jiajing, in Weitang Town, Jiashan County, a person named Yuan Liaofan was born. Later he became an important Ming Dynasty thinker, and even more so, a great master who struggled against fate and changed his destiny through doing good. His entire life thoroughly explained the Book of Changes’ truth about fate: “Families that accumulate goodness will surely have abundant blessings; families that accumulate evil will surely have abundant calamities.”

Master Liaofan lost his father young. His mother told him not to pursue any official titles, had him change to studying medicine, and admonished him that studying medicine could earn money to support life and also help others. Moreover, if medical skills were mastered, he could become a famous doctor—this was also his father’s previous wish.

So Master Liaofan began studying medicine. Later, Master Liaofan met a divination master surnamed Kong at Ciyun Temple. Master Kong was a successor to the Song Dynasty prediction master Shao Kangjie. Master Kong calculated Liaofan’s fate, telling him he shouldn’t study medicine but should pursue official titles, that he would definitely pass, and even calculated the ranking of each examination. He also calculated Liaofan’s official career, telling him when he would be promoted, when he’d become county magistrate, and calculated that Liaofan could only live to fifty-three, would pass away at the chou hour on the fourteenth day of the eighth month that year, and that his fate held no sons.

Later when Liaofan went to take exams, it was exactly as Master Kong said—every single prediction came true. Many subsequent events also came true one by one. So Liaofan lost his will to live. He felt that since a person’s life is already predetermined, thinking wildly is useless. Better to drift along, muddle through—what’s meant to come will come anyway, when it’s time to die he’ll still die, if fate holds no sons then there are no sons, no use thinking about it.

Later when Yuan Liaofan was studying in Nanjing, he visited Master Yungu at Qixia Mountain. He pessimistically told the master about fate’s constraints on people. He said: “My fate was determined by Master Kong—when I’ll be born, when I’ll die, when I’ll succeed, when I’ll fail, all have fixed numbers that cannot be changed. Even if I wildly imagine getting some benefit, it’s imagining in vain, so I honestly don’t think about it…”

After hearing this, Master Yungu enlightened him: “An ordinary person cannot be said to lack that consciousness of wild thinking. Since there exists this ceaselessly active deluded mind, then one will be bound by yin-yang numerical fate. Since bound by yin-yang numerical fate, how can you say there’s no number? Though numbers definitely exist, only ordinary people will be bound by numbers. If someone is supremely good, numbers cannot constrain him.” Meaning, people are all constrained by the qi of yin-yang and the five elements, but if a person can achieve supreme goodness, he can break through fate’s constraints.

Master Liaofan seemed to understand something: “Truly?”

“Just go do it!” Master Yungu said loudly.

So Master Yuan Liaofan first made a great vow to do three thousand good deeds. He said it and did it—every time he did a good deed, he recorded it with his pen. His wife couldn’t write, so after doing good deeds she would draw a circle on the old almanac. As the good deeds progressed, Liaofan gradually broke through fate’s constraints. What happened later began to not match what Master Kong had calculated: Master Kong calculated he’d place third, but Yuan Liaofan placed first; Master Kong calculated he wouldn’t pass the provincial exam, but Yuan Liaofan did pass. The scales of fate began to be controlled by Master Liaofan himself.

After completing three thousand good deeds, Master Liaofan vowed another three thousand. After completing those three thousand, he vowed ten thousand more. In the jisi year, the master and his wife actually had a son. The master happily named his son “Tianqi.” Later, Liaofan’s son also passed the imperial examination. Because Master Yuan accumulated merit through good deeds, he also smoothly passed the hurdle of age fifty-three.

In his later years, Master Yuan told his son about his experience of changing fate through doing good: “Master Kong calculated my fate—at fifty-three I should face disaster. Though I didn’t pray to heaven for longevity, at fifty-three I had not a bit of illness or pain. Now I’m already sixty-nine, having lived sixteen extra years!”

Master Liaofan used his personal experience to change his fate, explaining the Book of Changes’ life truth that “Families that accumulate goodness will surely have abundant blessings; families that accumulate evil will surely have abundant calamities.” He wrote books and established theories, admonishing the world not to be bound hand and foot by fate, to ceaselessly strive, to grasp their own destiny.

This book was compiled by later generations and titled “Liaofan’s Four Lessons.” Through his personal experiences and vivid examples around him, Master Liaofan told the world that fate can be changed through effort. This book contains profound cultural connotations and Eastern wisdom, praised as “The First Inspirational Wonder Book of the East.” Since its publication it has been deeply revered and circulated to this day.

Later, the Hong Kong Chinese Moral Society praised Yuan Liaofan for “transforming fate with determination, creating happiness for himself and for society, the nation, even all humanity’s bright future,” calling “Liaofan’s Four Lessons” a “treasure manual for creating happiness.” Master Liaofan enjoys extremely high reputation not only in China, but also in Japan, Korea, the United States, Australia and other places.

Therefore, from childhood, Zu Ye’s mother told him: “You must be a good person!” Later, Zu Ye joined “Jiang Xiang Sect” also to punish evil and promote good, carry out heaven’s way. But after all these years, Zu Ye was suddenly confused. He didn’t know if what he was doing were good deeds or evil deeds.

Zu Ye’s Ancestral Grave Is Dug Up

“Zu Ye, bad news! Bad news!” Just as Zu Ye was feeling melancholy, Er Batou ran in panicked, with Little Liu Zi following close behind.

Zu Ye’s heart jumped: “What happened?”

“Zu Ye, look at this.” Er Batou handed a newspaper to Zu Ye.

“Where did this come from?” Zu Ye asked doubtfully.

“Liu Zi got it when he went into the city to scout,” Er Batou said.

Zu Ye looked down, his head roared, and he forcibly held back tears. His hand gripped the newspaper tightly, a fury surging to his chest.

“Zu Ye?” Er Batou and Little Liu Zi called out timidly.

Zu Ye’s expression was grave. After a long while, he slammed the table and stood up, saying through gritted teeth: “Digging up my ancestral grave! They can even use such sinister and vicious methods!”

“Zu Ye…” Er Batou was waiting for Zu Ye’s decision. “Kill our way back to Jianghuai?”

Zu Ye didn’t speak, his eyes full of grief and rage.

Er Batou and Little Liu Zi both knelt on the ground: “We swear to follow Zu Ye to the death!”

Excavating graves and digging up corpses, greatly damaging the yin dwelling’s feng shui—since ancient times this grudge was irreconcilable! Zu Ye’s entire family had died miserably. Later the villagers helped bury the bones. After Zu Ye joined “Jiang Xiang Sect,” he returned to his hometown to pay respects. Every time he thought of his family’s tragic deaths, Zu Ye would shed tears. Now Zuo Yongchan actually dug up Zu Ye’s ancestral grave in Jianghuai, dug out the bones to whip and burn them, and even deliberately made the news big, proclaiming in newspapers to make this demon Zu Ye have no sons or descendants!

The number one master of Jianghuai, “Mr. Tieban,” suddenly became a demon. This greatly shocked the Jianghuai common people who had received his kindness. In the newspapers, Zuo Yongchan and Jiang Tiancheng portrayed Zu Ye as heinously criminal, his crimes too numerous to record. People seemed to feel “Mr. Tieban” was truly a wolf in human skin. At the same time, Zuo Yongchan’s “kind heart” burst forth. At that time Shanghai was suffering cholera, the plague spreading madly. Rich people rescued in time survived, but poor common people died in great batches. In one day Zhabei District’s corpses could pile into a small mountain. Zuo Yongchan personally held ceremonies to dispel disaster and pray blessings for the common people, and distributed medicinal soup for free to help everyone. The numb common people instantly forgot Zu Ye. Great Benefactor Zuo had become like a living father and living Bodhisattva.

Zu Ye helped Er Batou and Little Liu Zi up, had them withdraw first, closed the door himself, held the newspaper, and thought quietly: Who revealed my ancestral grave information? I’ve been in the trade over ten years—no one has ever uncovered my background. How could they suddenly find my ancestral grave so accurately? Qi Chunfu! Only him! That traitorous old Batou! Digging my ancestral grave is to enrage me, then draw me out. Such a big operation isn’t something Zuo Yongchan’s ilk can manipulate alone—it must be the Japanese behind the scenes trying to force me to show myself. If I return to Jianghuai now, more danger than safety, and the brothers would also die in vain. Suddenly thinking of his family’s scattered bones, his heart filled with endless melancholy, tears unstoppably sliding down.

Zu Ye forcibly controlled his grief and rage, slowly organizing, planning… At midnight, he finally had a response strategy and urgently convened a Council Meeting!

“Zu Ye, kill our way back to Jianghuai and cut down that bastard Zuo Yongchan?” Da Batou said fiercely.

Zu Ye shook his head and said: “Since they want to play, let’s play it big. Just a small disturbance arose and we can’t sit still—how would that do?”

“Zu Ye means to muddy the waters?” San Batou said.

Zu Ye nodded: “Muddy water is good for fishing.”

“What fish to catch! Great-grandfather and great-grandmother’s graves have been dug up! I’ll go with Liu Zi to Shanghai right now and cut down that bastard Zuo Yongchan!” Da Batou said viciously.

“Zuo Yongchan is just a clown jumping around on stage. Cutting him down is easy. The key is the devils. We ruined their big plans on Zhoushan Island and burned their shamans to death in Wuhan. They won’t let it rest…” Zu Ye said.

“Zu Ye, perhaps things aren’t so simple.” Little Liu Zi, who’d just become Liu Batou, suddenly said. “Zu Ye, look—the Zhoushan incident was over two years ago. The Japanese army is busy with war and hasn’t made any moves specifically targeting our ‘Jiang Xiang Sect.’ This time they suddenly act in Shanghai—could it be… could it be related to us robbing their corpse-driving team?”

“Not likely, right? Just a few rough maps?” Wu Batou interjected.

Zu Ye pondered a moment, then suddenly ordered: “Bring those rough maps out to look at again!”

Zu Ye and the Batous reexamined those rough maps. Mountains, rivers, and waterways were clearly delineated, counties and cities appropriately arranged. After looking a long while, they still discovered nothing particularly special.

Zu Ye smacked his lips: “Hmm, we’ll use their own tactics against them… The devils want to fight us to the death, then we’ll accompany them to the end! We’ll do this…” The Batous listened carefully, nodding continuously.

That night, Da Batou, Liu Batou, and Fan Yifei, the three of them, rushed toward Jianghuai under the moonlight. Simultaneously, Er Batou, San Batou, and Wu Batou led brothers with the newly seized firearms to hunt other corpse-driving teams according to the routes Fan Yifei provided.

Within a few days, large quantities of handbills began appearing in Shanghai. The handbills said Zuo Yongchan had become a traitor, was the Japanese’s running dog, that he killed his own master—the previous leader of “Heavenly Sage Way,” Zhang Jiyao—and slandered the sage Zu Ye. He would surely suffer heaven’s punishment. Heaven deliberately crippled his leg as a forewarning, and heaven’s thunder god was enraged, releasing heavenly thunder to blast open his family’s ancestral grave! As the saying goes “Sins committed by heaven may still be forgiven, but sins brought upon oneself cannot be survived.” Zuo Yongchan himself would suffer the five thunders’ attack within the month. When that happened, the five thunders would strike together—metal, wood, water, fire, and earth arriving simultaneously. Fire thunder would strike his head, starting a fire in his hair; wood thunder would strike his chest, bursting his organs; metal thunder would strike his back, exploding his shoulder blades; water thunder would strike his abdomen, ripping open his belly; earth thunder would strike his feet, sinking him five feet into the ground!

After Zuo Yongchan saw this handbill, his beard stood up in anger: “Good! Good! Let’s see who dies faster!”

Though he said this aloud, his heart was worried.

“Someone come!” Zuo Yongchan called a dharma protector, lowered his voice and said: “Immediately take people to my hometown to see if the grave has really been destroyed.”

“Your command!”

The protector led several Blue Robes and rushed to Anhui overnight.

Several days later, at the foot of Huangshan Mountain in Anhui, the protector and Blue Robes arrived at the gravesite near Zuo Yongchan’s hometown. At a glance, the gravesite was quiet and orderly. In the wild grass several crows hopped about. The entire gravesite showed no signs of damage.

“Hahahaha!” The protector laughed heartily. “Demonic rumors collapse on their own!”

“Hahahaha!” A cold laugh came from the mountain hollow. “Stupid prick, you fell into the trap!”

“Who?” The protector immediately sensed something wrong.

“Still recognize your master?” Da Batou’s figure vaguely emerged in the mountain hollow.

“Fuck your mother! This old man was just looking for you! You delivered yourself to the door!” The protector said, about to draw his gun.

Bang bang bang—several gunshots. Liu Batou and Fan Yifei rushed from behind the protector with guns: “Don’t move!” Several Blue Robes were shot dead. The protector’s arm was also shot through, blood flowing continuously.

Da Batou walked over, pointed his gun at the protector’s head and said: “Let you die understanding! We had no idea where Great Leader Zuo’s ancestral grave was, so we deliberately released false information. Zu Ye figured that big stupid prick would definitely send people to check the ancestral grave after seeing the news. As expected, you came out that very day. We followed all the way. Thank you, Great Protector, for leading us to find your leader’s ancestral grave!”

“Fuck your mother…” The protector was humiliated and enraged.

Before he could finish cursing, Da Batou suddenly pulled the trigger. Bang—the bullet shot into the protector’s head. The protector’s body stiffened and fell. Brain matter and blood gushed out.

Da Batou looked at Liu Batou and Fan Yifei: “Brothers, don’t just stand there—begin!”

The three pulled out explosives wrapped around their waists, stuck them into Zuo Yongchan’s ancestral grave, lit the fuses. Boom—the grave pit exploded!

“Revenge for Great-grandfather and Great-grandmother!” Little Liu Zi shouted, jumping into the grave pit for a thorough stomping and kicking!

“Sixth Master, wait, wait! First get out the gold and silver valuables!” Fan Yifei said anxiously.

“Liu Zi, careful not to damage the skull!” Da Batou ordered.

The three tossed about for half a shichen. The wealth was looted clean, the bones desecrated. Only one skull was preserved intact. Da Batou wrapped it in cloth, then cut off the protector’s head—bloody—also wrapped it in cloth. Stuffing the two round balls at their waists, the three returned to Shanghai.

Deep at night, in front of the newly completed Shanghai Museum, three black shadows busily worked tensely.

“Liu Zi, done?”

“Done!”

“Yifei?”

“No problem!”

“Good! Action!” Da Batou commanded.

Liu Batou and Fan Yifei applied force with their feet, took a running start and climbed the museum’s high wall pillars. Then their bodies clung to the wall like geckos crawling, then another flip onto the bell tower at the top of the building. They suspended the two human heads from two tower corners respectively, then shook down the hanging cloth several zhang long, inscribed with: The great traitor Zuo Yongchan has suffered heaven’s punishment—the skulls of his parents struck by heavenly thunder at his tomb are here!

After everything was done, the three quietly disappeared.

The reason Zu Ye had the Batous choose this place to hang the skulls was because it had the largest foot traffic. After the Shanghai Museum was built, the first exhibition had nearly forty-five thousand visitors. Sure enough, early the next morning, when throngs of people surged toward the museum, they all froze. Soon the crowd exploded—those calling police called police, those screaming screamed, and the Shanghai newspaper reporters who came to visit picked up cameras and photographed continuously.

At this time, Zuo Yongchan at “Heavenly Sage Way” had just finished breakfast and was pondering why the protector and Blue Robes sent to check the gravesite hadn’t returned. Suddenly a servant reported: “Leader, bad news, bad news!”

This shout made Zuo Yongchan’s heart pound: “What’s so panicked?”

“Your ancestral grave was truly blasted by thunder!”

“Ah?”

As they spoke, people from the Police Command came, holding two round packages: “Leader Zuo, do you recognize these two people?”

The packages opened. The head and skull rolled out together. Zuo Yongchan looked—”Aiya!”—screamed miserably, beat his chest and stamped his feet. “I was tricked!”

Anyone who could be a hall master had quite high intelligence. When Zuo Yongchan saw the protector’s head roll out, he immediately understood. Needless to say, the other skull must be from his ancestral grave.

“Ah—” Zuo Yongchan sighed again at length. “If I don’t avenge this, I’m not worthy of being human!” In his heart he cursed Zu Ye’s sinister cunning.

Da Batou and the others rushed day and night back to Hunan. Zu Ye personally held a welcoming feast for the three. At the same time, Er Batou, San Batou and others had eliminated several more Japanese corpse-driving teams, killed dozens of people, seized dozens of guns. The hall’s brothers large and small each had a box gun. “Mu Zi Lian” had clearly become a small-scale armed force.

Zu Ye raised his wine cup, full of determination: “Brothers, you worked hard! The devils won’t let it rest—there are still tough battles ahead!”

“We swear to follow Zu Ye to the death!” The brothers called out together.

“Bottoms up!” Zu Ye and all the brothers drained their cups.

Suddenly, the oil lamp’s flame on the table slowly shrank, flickered a few times, and went out. Everyone looked around—the doors and windows were tightly closed, no wind blowing in.

“Jiang Xiang Sect’s” great taboo: “The lamp flower extinguishes itself.” The oil lamp on the table went out for no reason—this was a great inauspicious omen. What would happen? Everyone’s eyes turned to Zu Ye.

Only Liu Batou remained calm and composed: “Extinguished, just light it again. What’s the big deal!”

Zu Ye’s heart felt blocked, but still smiled and said: “When soldiers come we’ll block with generals, when water comes we’ll cover with earth. I have dozens of brothers, also aided by military weapons. Brothers are devoted to each other—what is there to fear?”

“Hehehehe!” The whole room burst into laughter.

At this moment the steward relit the lamp. San Batou stood up, smiling and said: “We’re all fortune-tellers. The way is called the alternation of yin and yang. Understanding fate brings no worry. Ordinary people fear, but we shouldn’t fear. We can predict fortune and misfortune. This year’s Grand Duke is jimao, the earthly branch is wood. My ‘Mu Zi Lian’ hall’s name according to five elements division is also wood. Wood compared with wood, aided by the Grand Duke—this is a greatly auspicious sign!”

Wu Batou nodded: “Third Brother speaks reasonably.”

Zu Ye was greatly pleased after hearing this. Though these were comforting words, they sounded pleasant. After Huang Farong left, the only Batous in the hall with real skills were Third, Xue Jiaren, and Fifth, Zhang Qiling.

“Aiya, stop talking about useless things!” Er Batou interrupted San Batou’s words. “Zu Ye, how do we arrange the next step?”

Zu Ye nodded: “Hold the troops without moving, observe changes quietly, counter each move, wait at ease for the exhausted enemy!”

Er Batou lacked education and only understood the phrase “hold the troops without moving.” Seeing others nod frequently, Er Batou also nodded along.

Ancient Fortune-Telling by Drawing Slips

“What methods do fortune-tellers in the Two Lakes region like to use?” Zu Ye suddenly changed the subject. “Jiang Xiang Sect” was at bottom still about fortune-telling to swindle money. Murder, arson, grave robbery—these weren’t in-trade work. When the storm passed, they’d still have to return to the old trade. Zu Ye understood this principle all too well.

“As far as I know, they dabble in all fortune-telling arts. Eight characters, six lines, face reading, palm reading go without saying. There’s also a type specializing in fortune-telling by drawing slips—even easier to fool people,” San Batou said.

“Drawing slips?” Zu Ye didn’t understand.

“Hmm, fortune-telling by drawing slips originates from fortune-telling by drawing lots, except drawing lots uses bamboo sticks with only text on them, like ‘Supreme Fortune,’ with a passage carved below to explain the lot. Since not many people could read, drawing lots for divination wasn’t easy to understand at a glance and still required special people to explain. But fortune-telling by drawing slips is different. Slips are wrapped in red paper, each slip about playing-card size. The slip’s front has a picture, the back has explanatory sentences. Generally, those drawing slips see the picture and understand whether it’s fortune or misfortune,” San Batou continued explaining.

“What kinds of pictures are there?” Er Batou also became interested.

“Hehe, I once saw all the slips of an old fortune-teller. He was blind, but as long as you roughly described the slip’s picture content, he could skillfully recite the judgment on the back, then eloquently explain to you. For example, one slip’s front showed a little person wanting to cross a river but couldn’t cross, with shoes falling into the river and getting wet. Second Brother, do you know what this means?” San Batou asked Er Batou.

Er Batou scratched his head: “Shouldn’t be good. The shoes got wet—is it the meaning of ‘often walk by the river, how can your shoes not get wet’?”

San Batou shook his head: “This is a romance slip. The slip says: ‘The Red Phoenix and Heavenly Joy play at true love, yet a great river blocks the path. Losing footing, immortal shoes fall away—a scene of romance becomes empty.’ Generally, those asking divination about romantic matters will draw this slip. The fortune-teller will tell you this is an inauspicious omen—the other person has a wandering heart or is having an affair. Disaster resolution is needed to turn danger to safety.”

“Hahahaha!” Er Batou nearly laughed himself to death. “Pure nonsense! Let me ask you—if I’m not asking about romance but about business, and happen to draw this slip, what would he say?”

“Hmm, Second Brother asks well!” San Batou shook his head, turned to look at the smiling Zu Ye, and continued: “If you’re not asking about romance but other matters, then he’d still pull it back to romance. This is the in-trade method of sophistry! This oral formula has over a thousand interpretations. No matter what you ask, he can fit it on you. Believe it or not?”

Er Batou tilted his head: “Don’t believe it! Right now I’m a businessman. I just drew this slip. How do you explain?”

“May I ask what business the gentleman does?” San Batou also entered the role.

“Mule and horse business,” Er Batou answered.

“This is exactly right…” San Batou nodded.

“What’s exactly right? Right about what?”

“I calculate the gentleman doesn’t do mule and horse business, but also medicinal materials business. In any case, it’s the sign of ‘noble person on horse,’ seeking wealth through movement,” San Batou said.

“Enough, stop conning me. I’m just asking how you interpret this slip?” Er Batou pressed.

“Recently the gentleman’s business hasn’t been too good. There are always unexpected events happening, right?” San Batou continued asking.

“You’re talking nonsense. Who with good business comes to get their fortune told?” Er Batou exposed San Batou.

“The gentleman has encountered the Peach Blossom Calamity!” San Batou said loudly. “There’s a woman causing you trouble, right?”

Before Er Batou could respond, San Batou explained: “Generally at this critical juncture, the other party has only two types of answers—one is affirmative, one is negative. The reason fortune-tellers dare open their mouths and say businessmen have the Peach Blossom Calamity is because they’ve grasped the pulse of human nature. Everyone think about it—people all have the seven emotions and six desires. Never mind businessmen who travel far and wide, even ordinary poor common people, once they’re fed, engage in some trifling romantic affairs. The Zhang family’s son screws the Li family’s daughter-in-law, the Liu family’s concubine seduces her own hired hand, the brother-in-law touches the younger sister-in-law’s hand… Such things are too numerous. What about businessmen? Rushing about all day, lonely on the road, either going to brothels to ‘blast girls’ or customers mutually hooking up with each other. So when the fortune-teller reveals this heavenly secret in one sentence, eight or nine out of ten people will nod. At this point the fortune-teller will seize every opportunity, using fortune-telling terminology like Red Phoenix, Heavenly Joy, Peach Blossom to explain, warning the other party that if romantic entanglements aren’t handled well, they’ll lose their entire fortune, ultimately losing both person and wealth, getting nothing.”

“Hmm. The principle is the same. Human hearts, human nature—as long as you grasp this point, everything is manageable,” Zu Ye said while listening and nodding.

“But what if this businessman absolutely refuses to admit having a Peach Blossom Calamity? Or if he really doesn’t have one?” Er Batou added another question.

“This isn’t difficult. If he really doesn’t have one or doesn’t admit it, the master will say anyway, the slip you drew yourself is like this. It’s written clearly on the slip—since ancient times it’s been interpreted this way. If you don’t believe it, I have no solution. In this way, the fortune-teller shifts responsibility to the slip. He’s just an interpreter. The slip was drawn by the divination seeker himself—who told you to draw this one? People who come to seek divine guidance are generally very devout, believing that what they drew must be heaven’s will. No one ever thinks about who made these slips, when they were made, much less imagines that the fortune-teller uses every slip’s judgment with consummate skill. In fortune-telling about life, it’s nothing more than these few matters: wealth fortune, official fortune, beautiful women, lifespan. So no matter which slip is drawn, the fortune-teller can talk eloquently, aligning it with human nature’s greed, anger, and delusion—hitting the mark every time, repeatedly verified!” San Batou said.

“Brilliant! Brilliant!” Little Liu Zi was already addicted to listening and kept praising.

“Not so!” San Batou glanced at Liu Batou. “Sixth Brother doesn’t know—this isn’t even considered brilliant. There’s even more awesome stuff!”

“Tell us,” Little Liu Zi asked with a smile.

San Batou looked at Zu Ye and said: “Zu Ye, should we popularize knowledge about the ‘Ten Great Gates of the Jianghu’ for everyone?”

Zu Ye smiled and said: “The Ten Great Gates of the Jianghu: Wind, Horse, Swallow, Sparrow, Porcelain, Gold, Review, Skin, Color, Hanging. We of ‘Jiang Xiang Sect’ belong to the Gold Gate, but our level far exceeds the common mortals of the Gold Gate. Years ago before Master Zhang passed away, he often mentioned stories of the Ten Gates to me, letting me see through human evil and the deep waters of the jianghu. The reason I don’t let everyone get involved in the jianghu’s Ten Great Gates and am unwilling to mention these matters is because I fear everyone will go astray and forget their mission to carry out heaven’s way. Now we’re wandering outside, war continues endlessly, life and death hard to predict. It’s harmless for everyone to hear this knowledge—first, to raise vigilance and avoid being caught in a scheme within a scheme; second, when the war ends in the future and you all establish families and careers, tell it to your descendants so they won’t be deceived and swindled.”

“Excellent!” San Batou saw Zu Ye nod in agreement and immediately became energized. He rolled up his sleeves, opened wide his jowls, unlocked his back molars, and eloquently began to speak.

The Ten Great Swindles of the Jianghu

Wind, Horse, Swallow, Sparrow, Porcelain, Gold, Review, Skin, Color, Hanging—these are the jianghu’s ten great swindles, referring to ten great con arts, and even more so to ten types of swindlers or gangs.

Wind, also called “Bee.” Looking at this character, you know it’s gang crime—like bees swarming, arriving suddenly and dispersing instantly, coming fast and leaving fast. Let me give an example.

In the late Qing period, official circles were corrupt. Many officials who’d committed crimes would grease palms up and down, spending enormous sums to seek disaster relief. There was a Shanxi governor who was reported for corruption and embezzlement. The whole family was frantically anxious. Just as they were preparing silver to operate, they suddenly discovered a group of strangers had come to the city and secretly lodged at an inn. These people all wore fine clothes and spoke with Beijing accents. The governor looked and understood immediately: “These are people from the capital’s Censorate! They’ve come to investigate me! I understand this routine.”

The next day the governor sent someone to the inn to deliver a message requesting an audience.

The person sent entered the inn and while delivering the message also observed those people’s situation. That group deliberately displayed vigilant expressions, saying they had important business and it was inconvenient to see guests.

The messenger was rebuffed and hurried back to report. The governor heard this and understood. The next day he prepared 200,000 taels in bank notes and had someone deliver them.

After that person delivered the 200,000 taels in bank notes, he brought back a “three-foot white silk.”

The governor looked and was shocked and dismayed: “This is the higher-ups’ meaning—death by hanging.”

The governor racked his brains, scraping together from here and there, and gathered another 200,000 taels. Before dawn even broke, he sent someone to deliver it. This time that person brought back a string of official caps and plumes, plus a string of peace buttons.

The governor looked and relaxed—his head was saved: “Remove the official cap and plumes, demote to commoner status.” But having spent 400,000 taels of silver, he couldn’t just become a commoner. He’d operate some more, take out the family’s cat’s-eye jade bracelets and pendants to smooth things over. Even if he could just get a county magistrate position, with time, the scattered wealth would come back.

That group of people, after receiving these things, knew this governor had taken out his entire fortune and quickly disappeared.

The governor was still waiting for news when soon the real Censorate people arrived. Seeing the inspection officials personally at his door, the governor thought the matter was naturally resolved. He quickly put on a smiling face to greet them: “Not knowing Elder Brother was arriving, I failed to welcome you properly!”

The Censorate people thought this governor was incredible—about to die yet still so happy. His psychological fortitude was extraordinary—an old fox.

“Governor, tell us yourself!” The Censorate person wanted the governor to confess.

The governor heard this and was overjoyed, thinking they were letting him choose a position: “Elder Brother, a fifth-rank prefect is sufficient! If that really won’t do, I’ll go back to my hometown to be a county magistrate.”

The Censorate person was stunned: “What are you saying?”

“Elder Brother means…?”

“This person’s mind is confused and unclear—escort him to the capital for further interrogation!” With the inspector’s command, Qing soldiers came up and bound the governor.

The governor at this moment felt suddenly enlightened and shouted: “Black eating black—you’re ruthless enough! After taking my 400,000 taels in bank notes, you turn your back on me!”

The inspector’s nose was nearly twisted with anger: “You scoundrel dare spray blood from your mouth—beat him!”

At this time, that gang of swindlers had long since left. Later, despite nationwide manhunts for a long time, these people were never caught. This is “Wind”—arriving suddenly, dispersing suddenly.

After San Batou finished this story, everyone was already laughing until their stomachs hurt. Even Si Batou Zhang Zizhan, who’d been melancholy all along, laughed.

San Batou drank a sip of tea and continued with “Horse.”

Horse means a lone horse, one person swindling, corresponding to “Wind’s” gang swindling. This type of person either disguises as a Daoist or as a monk, giving people the feeling of a worldly master. Late Qing Qiantang once had such a case: There was a wealthy household surnamed Zhang who was charitable and kind, called Great Benefactor Zhang. One day a person dressed as a monk came to Great Benefactor Zhang’s door and shouted loudly: “Give me one hundred taels of silver!”

Great Benefactor Zhang opened the door and looked: “Who are you? Why should I just give you one hundred taels of silver?”

“If you don’t give it, I won’t leave!” He then sat at Great Benefactor Zhang’s doorstep. At that time it was the depths of winter, with bitter cold wind and wild blowing snow.

Great Benefactor Zhang said: “High Monk, if you have something to say, come inside.”

“No.” The monk sat cross-legged, closed his eyes to meditate.

For three days and nights straight, motionless, without water or food. People all thought this monk had frozen to death. Walking closer to look, they saw his breathing was even, his face glowing with health. Everyone exclaimed in wonder: “A true high monk! An ordinary person would freeze to death if not starve to death!”

Great Benefactor Zhang still wouldn’t give money.

The monk opened his eyes and said to Great Benefactor Zhang: “Do you believe I can slap you to death with the Tathagata Divine Palm?”

“Buddhist monks are compassionate and merciful. The High Monk won’t slap me to death,” Great Benefactor Zhang said with a smile.

The monk glanced at Great Benefactor Zhang: “Let you see!” Having said this, he pressed his palms together, then suddenly rubbed them. His hands were immediately wrapped in a ball of blue flames, yet the monk showed no sign of pain whatsoever.

The surrounding people were frightened: “An immortal!”

Great Benefactor Zhang still didn’t consent.

The monk finally had no tricks left. He took out a bundle of rope, tied it to Great Benefactor Zhang’s door ring, then lit it, shouting: “I’ll burn you to death with the Samadhi True Fire!” Having said this, he raised his butt and left.

People discovered with amazement that the rope kept burning but just wouldn’t burn through. They couldn’t help warning Great Benefactor Zhang: “This is a true immortal. You’d better comply with him.”

Great Benefactor Zhang still smiled without speaking.

Two days later one evening, that monk quietly returned and knocked on Great Benefactor Zhang’s door.

“How did you see through it?” the monk asked.

Great Benefactor Zhang smiled: “If you hadn’t performed these techniques, perhaps I would have given you some money. You doing this made me want to play with you instead. I, Great Benefactor Zhang, am not foolishly kind. If I stupidly gave money to every person who came, wouldn’t that make me an idiot?”

“Hehe.” The monk laughed.

“You didn’t eat or drink for three days and nights, didn’t starve or freeze to death. Others don’t know what’s going on, but I discovered it. When you first came to my door, you wore a string of Arhat beads around your neck. I counted thirty-six. After three days they became thirty. Those beads were all made from ginseng, with effects of dispelling cold and preserving warmth, resisting illness and prolonging life. You ate two daily, so you were fine. Ordinary people wouldn’t notice the number of beads on your neck, but I did.”

“Haha.” The monk laughed again.

“Your Tathagata Divine Palm was actually wrapping your hands in paste mixed with phosphorus. Phosphorus self-ignites without burning your hands. Your rope that burned without breaking was simply soaked in brine water first. We all understand this.”

“Hahahaha!” The monk laughed heartily. “No fight, no friendship! Great Benefactor Zhang, considering how I racked my brains to swindle you—even without merit there’s hard labor, right? Just reward me with a bit!”

Great Benefactor Zhang smiled slightly: “With this intelligence, what couldn’t you do?” He took out an ingot of silver and handed it to him. “Do some proper business.”

The monk took the silver, looked up to the sky laughing, and left.

Afterward, Great Benefactor Zhang thought carefully: “Alas, I was still swindled.”

San Batou reached this point. Da Batou said with a smile: “This monk is far inferior to Zu Ye. All using props to set up schemes, with no intelligence whatsoever.”

Zu Ye smiled and shook his head: “After all, he got the money.”

San Batou continued with “Swallow.”

Swallow, also called “Yan,” refers to beautiful women, taken from the saying “face like jade.” “Swallow” refers to those who specialize in using beauty to set up swindles—not just beautiful women, but also handsome men. Women swindling men, men swindling women—as long as lustful hearts arise, they’ll be deceived. Late Qing, many of the Eight Banner children were idle. Some aristocratic lords had nothing to do all day, wandering the Eight Great Hutongs, drinking flower wine, sleeping in brothels. At this time female swindlers could take advantage.

This type of swindler had high cultivation and learning, understood music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, could compose poetry and lyrics, occasionally could even discourse on national affairs and rant about world patterns, from time to time displaying a state of fate’s helplessness—unavoidably falling into the world of courtesans.

The aristocratic lord loved this sort: “Young lady, why do you sigh so?”

“Your Lordship doesn’t know—this young woman is originally from XX place. Only because my family fell into decline did I drift here, becoming a person of the dusty world.”

The aristocratic lord had a flash of inspiration: “What if I redeem you?”

“How dare I, how dare I—this young woman is humble.”

“Young lady is too modest. It’s just that the young lady cannot enter my main residence. I can only purchase a house in the suburbs of the capital—the young lady can only be a concubine.” The aristocratic lord schemed.

“If so… this young woman is willing to be Your Lordship’s ox and horse!” The female swindler knelt down in tears.

“Get up quickly! I have five hundred taels in bank notes here—take it to redeem yourself!”

“Thank you!” The young lady took the bank notes, went out the door, and ran out in a flash. Her husband waiting outside quickly helped her change clothes and apply disguise. The two fled the capital overnight.

When dawn came and the aristocratic lord saw the young lady still hadn’t returned, only then did he sense something wrong—but it was already too late!

“Hahahaha.” Er Batou laughed continuously at this point. “Stupid prick. If it were me, I’d first knock that woman out with sleeping powder, then screw her before anything else.”

Zu Ye smiled and said: “The character for lust has a knife above it. Whether man or woman, as long as you’re confused by lust, sooner or later something will happen.”

“Zu Ye’s teaching is correct,” San Batou continued. “Next we discuss ‘Sparrow’—this is the most calculating gate!”

Sparrow, also called “Que,” meaning vacancy, refers to positions in official circles. Wherever there’s a vacancy, someone will take office to fill it.

Such large schemes require mobilizing many elements, contacting many people. The schemer plans strategically until the scheme succeeds, then leaves with bulging pockets.

The people in this scheme generally consist of the following types: a beautiful young wife—breathtakingly beautiful, well-educated and courteous, outwardly gentle as water, inwardly extremely vicious; an advisor—this person’s true identity is often the beautiful wife’s husband or lover; in any case, the two copulate in tacit understanding, wolves in cahoots; a prop master—this person is skilled at engraving seals, making official credentials and official seals; an assassin—this role is often personally undertaken by the advisor, or there’s a specialized assassin, but must be someone close to the beautiful wife and advisor, generally a disciple or biological son; a foolish bird—a down-and-out scholar with a belly full of ambition to serve the country but no door to serve.

In the early Republic, such a swindle appeared in western Sichuan.

The advisor first gathered intelligence, seeing which place’s county magistrate was about to move. Once a position vacancy appeared, it meant a new magistrate would come to fill the position. At that time buying and selling offices was rampant. Sometimes one person concurrently held magistrate positions for seven or eight counties. New and old magistrates came and went—common people couldn’t figure out who the magistrate actually was. Moreover, at that time magistrates took office with just an appointment letter, bringing an advisor to conduct business. No one could distinguish true from false.

The advisor first found out where a magistrate was about to take office, then gathered information and addresses of some down-and-out scholars nearby, then began setting up the scheme.

On the day the new magistrate took office, the advisor arranged for the assassin to ambush on the road where the magistrate would take office, burying land mines and taking the opportunity to blow the magistrate to death, then taking the official credentials and leaving.

After killing the magistrate, they began finding the down-and-out scholar they’d targeted beforehand.

The scholar was at home with nothing to do when knocking sounds arose. The scholar opened the door. The advisor stepped forward: “Sir, my family’s mistress has fallen into hardship. Could we borrow lodging at your residence for one night?”

Scholars were generally sentimental. Looking at the young wife’s alluring figure behind, he felt pity: “Come in first.”

“What do you all do? How did you drift to this place?” the scholar asked.

“Alas…” The mistress wept and entered the inner room.

“Alas!” The advisor began speaking. “Sir, please listen to me. We came this time to assume the county magistrate position. My master spent forty thousand taels of silver to buy this magistrate position. I’m the master’s advisor. Today I accompanied the master and his whole family to take office. Unexpectedly, we encountered bandits in the mountains who bombed the master’s sedan chair. The master was blown to death, the wealth was all robbed. Now only the mistress and her not-yet-adult son remain.” As he spoke, he pointed to the assassin who’d killed the magistrate during the day.

“Oh,” the scholar nodded, sympathy immediately arising. “Truly pitiful.”

“Now that the master is gone, we don’t know what to do.” The advisor wept, then asked, “What does the gentleman do?”

The scholar sighed: “I was the last batch of xiucai in the Great Qing. Later I failed the juren exam. Later the imperial examinations were abolished. Now I’m past thirty with nothing accomplished.”

“Oh?” The advisor said in surprise. “The gentleman is well-read in poetry and books!”

“How dare I, how dare I.” The scholar’s face reddened.

The advisor pretended to think for a moment, then suddenly shouted: “Mistress, we’re saved, we’re saved!”

This startled the scholar: “What does the old man say?”

The advisor said with tears: “Sir, only you can save my family’s mistress.”

“Old man, why do you say this?”

“Sir, please listen to me. My master spent half a lifetime’s savings to buy this position. He died before serving a single day—this is too unjust. We’ve already spent the money, smoothed the relationships—all that’s left is taking office. Now my family’s mistress is an orphan and widow—no money, no people, no one to depend on. If… if the gentleman doesn’t mind, you could marry my family’s mistress, then take the official credentials to assume office. The gentleman is well-read—you must know strategies for governing the country and pacifying the land. Governing this small county is like cooking a small fish! This way the money isn’t wasted, the mistress has someone to depend on, and after the gentleman takes office you can fully display your talents and thoroughly exhibit your ambition to serve the country. Isn’t this killing three birds with one stone?” The advisor finished speaking and looked at the scholar.

The scholar heard this and was so happy he nearly pissed himself, but said coldly: “Old man, what kind of talk is this! Your family’s mistress is at a time of hardship. As advisor, instead of thinking of expedient strategies, you arrange this improper affair—what are your intentions?”

This gang of swindlers had thoroughly studied the down-and-out scholar’s psychology. The advisor thought to himself: “What are you pretending for!”

At this moment the mistress lifted the curtain, walked out in tears, and said to the advisor: “The gentleman is well-read, of high moral character—this remaining wife’s body doesn’t deserve the gentleman at all.”

The scholar looked—couldn’t pretend anymore. Pretend more and it would fly away. He quickly said: “Mistress’s words destroy me. I have no meaning of disdaining the mistress… it’s just… it’s just…”

The mistress wiped the tears at the corner of her eyes and affectionately called out: “Gen—tle—man—”

The scholar melted completely.

The advisor laughed heartily: “Heaven never seals off all exits! Heaven acts beautifully, heaven acts beautifully!”

Just like this, the scholar consummated with the mistress, then took office, full of determination, looking around with authority, wishing he could display all his talents at once to realize his long-suppressed great ambitions.

In the accounting room, the advisor and mistress darkly schemed. In the few months the scholar held office, the two ingeniously invented pretexts to extort over a hundred thousand taels of silver.

The scholar investigated cases by day, embraced the beauty in sleep at night, happy to the extreme. Later the advisor presented an opium pipe, saying this thing invigorated the spirit and strengthened virility. The scholar also began smoking opium paste. Tossing about like this for a year—case documents exhausting him, battling in bed, plus opium harming his body—the scholar was reduced to skin and bones, on the verge of death. The advisor and mistress saw this fellow had no more use value. Taking advantage of him drowsily sleeping at night, they smothered him with a pillow, then took all the bank notes and fled.

The local common people went several days without seeing the county magistrate and complained bitterly. The higher-ups heard the wind and quickly sent people down for surprise inspection. They pushed open the county office’s main gate—empty of everything. Entering the rear hall, a foul stench hit them head-on—the scholar magistrate had already rotted and grown maggots.

San Batou reached this point. Zu Ye sighed: “This is a real case. Later the Nationalist government even investigated this matter but ultimately never found that gang of swindlers. Alas, all evil karma created in the past arises from beginningless greed, anger, and delusion. The Buddhist scriptures are completely correct—human nature is very fragile. Once greed, delusion, and anger arise, you open the great door to inviting evil. ‘Liaofan’s Four Lessons’ said: Creation of fate is in heaven, establishment of fate is in people. Fortune and misfortune have no door—only people summon them themselves. All disasters are summoned by oneself.”

“We could also do this type of scheme, and do it even better!” Er Batou suddenly said.

Zu Ye shook his head: “Harming loyal and good people—we don’t do this. Sooner or later there’s retribution.”

“Wind, Horse, Swallow, Sparrow, Porcelain, Gold, Review, Skin, Color, Hanging—you’ve told four. What about the rest? Keep talking!” Little Liu Zi pursued relentlessly.

San Batou sipped tea and said: “Sixth Brother don’t be anxious. I’ll continue with Porcelain.”

Porcelain refers to “bumping porcelain”—deliberately staging accidents. This was popular around Tianjin. You’d be walking on the street when an old woman deliberately holding a porcelain vase would rush over, then you’d collide, the old woman would fall to the ground, the porcelain vase would shatter, and the old woman would lose consciousness. At this time the old woman’s eldest son, second son, third son, even grandsons and great-grandsons would suddenly emerge from the surroundings, crying for father and mother, shouting to report to officials! At this time a good-hearted person would definitely emerge from the crowd, telling you when dealing with such poor people, quickly pay money to avoid disaster. Otherwise, once you report to officials, the matter becomes big. Just give them a few dozen taels of silver to send them off. After you empty your pockets and give them all the silver on your person, they’ll carry the old woman away, saying they’re going to see a doctor, but actually going to divide the money in secret.

“If these porcelain bumpers really bump into official family people, what do they do?” Liu Batou suddenly asked.

“What do they do?” San Batou raised his eyelids. “Admit bad luck! Some stupid goods once bumped into Li Hongzhang who was making a private visit to Tianjin. They lay on the ground rolling and refusing to get up. Finally soldiers came and said since you don’t want to get up, never get up again! Those people saw things were very wrong and quickly climbed up from the ground, hugging Li Hongzhang’s thighs saying we were just joking with you, playing around. Was Li Hongzhang someone who casually joked with people? He directly had these birdmen brought to justice!”

“Hahahaha…” Several Batous laughed heartily.

San Batou continued eloquently: “Gold refers to fortune-tellers, that is, people like us. Review refers to those telling storytelling on street corners. To attract more people to listen, to tell stories more sustainably, to earn a few more bowls of gruel money, they can often tell one segment for three to five years. A very short story—they add oil and vinegar, official history and unofficial history, make things up randomly, things that exist and don’t exist, speak irresponsibly. The purpose is to swindle common people into listening with relish so the financial source won’t dry up. Skin refers to those selling folk medicine. Gourds filled with various immortal elixirs and miraculous medicines, claiming to cure all diseases. For poor common people who can’t afford medical treatment, these are life-saving straws; for swindlers, these are treasures for deceiving. Color refers to those performing magic tricks—Westerners call it magic. Now a pigeon flies out of the sleeve, now smoke rises from the head, taking objects from the air, spitting white lotus from the mouth—all are deceptive techniques. Hanging refers to street performers. While performing, they also sell folk medicine. First they use a big hammer on their own chest to smash big stones, then stick swords into their own throats, or break bricks with a single palm, or fish copper coins from boiling oil, then proclaim how powerful their qigong is, then say this all benefits from ‘Great Strength Pills,’ then they start selling medicine—all swindles…”

That night, the hall brothers seemed to walk a circle through the old jianghu. San Batou spoke with animated expressions, the brothers listened as if drunk or entranced. Later, these swindles were exposed one by one by a kind person with the pen name “Cloud Wanderer” in Beiping’s “Shiyan Daily,” then compiled into a book titled “Jianghu Miscellanea.” This “Cloud Wanderer” was the later famous storytelling performance artist, the venerable Lian Kuoru. Over many years, the content in “Jianghu Miscellanea” was repeatedly dramatized, forming traditional comic dialogues like “Bee Hemp Swallow Sparrow” and circulating to this day.