Moving the Headquarters Back to Jianghuai

Jiang Feiyan left, departed with Major General Feng, bidding farewell to the “Jiang Xiang Sect,” farewell to Zu Ye, farewell to her sins. This also seemed to tell people: finding someone who loves you is much easier than finding someone you love.

“Yuehai Hall” was brought under Zu Ye’s command. Zu Ye finally realized his grand vow to unify the underworld. I thought Zu Ye would be very happy, but he showed no pleasure at all. The “Jiang Xiang Sect” was unified—what next? Where to go?

On October 1, 1949, New China was born. Chairman Mao solemnly announced to the entire world: The Central People’s Government of the People’s Republic of China is established today!

At this time, Chiang Kai-shek was also busy—busy emptying the national treasury of gold and silver, transporting it all to Taiwan.

When New China was founded, Guangdong, Guangxi, Sichuan, Chongqing and other places had not yet been liberated. The A’Baos of “Mu Zi Lian” and “Yuehai Hall” were anxiously going in circles, not knowing what fate awaited them. Some Xiao Jiaos couldn’t hold back, began to slip away, illegally crossing to Hong Kong. They were caught by Zu Ye and executed. After that, no one dared to run anymore.

Within a few days, the People’s Liberation Army attacked. The remnant Kuomintang troops were no match. In less than half a month, Guangzhou was liberated. Common people took to the streets, setting off firecrackers to celebrate liberation.

Zu Ye ordered: Temporarily cease operations to observe the winds.

Immediately, over a hundred people dispersed and went into hiding. Er Batou at the Sichuan branch also went into hiding after receiving orders.

Subsequently, Zu Ye made a decision: “Da Tou, accompany me on a trip.”

I asked Zu Ye: “Where to?”

Zu Ye said: “Throughout the country.”

Zu Ye did everything with purpose. He didn’t state the reason; I didn’t press for answers.

Thus, Zu Ye and I departed from Guangzhou, heading north, passing through Jiangxi, entering Henan from the Hubei-Anhui border, then entering Shaanxi and Shanxi, finally entering Hebei and Beijing.

Along the way, we saw another scene. The common people were jubilant, everyone beaming with joy. Only then did I realize that the liberated areas weren’t as terrifying as the Kuomintang propaganda claimed. Now that Zu Ye personally brought me to these places that were liberated first, I truly experienced what liberation meant. Especially when we reached the revolutionary old districts of northern Shaanxi, the common people enthusiastically beat Ansai waist drums, singing loudly “The East Is Red, The Sun Rises.” That enthusiasm, those smiling faces—all came from the heart.

Zu Ye sighed: “Since the late Qing, with foreign powers invading, territory lost, warlords dividing the land, continuous warfare—in nearly a hundred years, when have the common people been this happy!”

I didn’t understand history, much less could I deeply appreciate Zu Ye’s sentiment at that time. I only knew that since I was born, the world had been in great chaos. I only knew “Chinese and Dogs Not Allowed.” I only knew what it meant to not have enough to eat, not enough to wear, what it meant to live in constant fear!

After drifting outside for a month, Zu Ye and I returned to Guangzhou.

At night, Zu Ye again fell into deep contemplation. I didn’t know what he was thinking. Was he thinking about what path to take next? Or was he recalling past years of vicissitudes?

Just like this, 1949 drew to a close, and the year 1950 arrived. That year, a major event occurred—the Korean War broke out. The Korean War was fought with exceptional hardship. At that time, New China had just been established, and strategic materials were extremely scarce. Remnant Kuomintang forces blockaded the sea routes, vainly attempting to cut off material aid to the mainland from patriotic people in Hong Kong.

Some underworld figures instigated Zu Ye, saying that as long as he cooperated with the Kuomintang, closely monitoring customs and ports, passing intelligence as soon as they had news, assisting the Kuomintang in cutting off Communist military supply, he could get lots of money. Zu Ye didn’t agree. Zu Ye said: “I don’t lack that money.”

At this moment of internal troubles and external threats, Zu Ye made an astonishing decision—move the headquarters back to Jianghuai!

The Batous all didn’t understand: “Why go back? Here we’re adjacent to Hong Kong. If there’s trouble, we can still flee. If we were to relocate, it should be to the far southwestern border where we could escape into Burma.” Going to the interior—wouldn’t that cut off our own escape route?

Once Zu Ye decided something, you could doubt it, you could oppose it, but opposition was invalid—what should be done would still be done. Even those dozens of people in Sichuan were brought over.

This was the greatest migration in the history of the “Jiang Xiang Sect.” Nearly two hundred people, dispersing in groups, arrived in Jianghuai one after another. Before the migration, Zu Ye executed Wu Batou. At the same time, I was promoted to Wu Batou. A year later, Zu Ye also executed Liu Batou “Little Shi Qian.” “Little Haizi” Zhao Dinghai, previously recommended by Er Batou, became Liu Batou.

I hadn’t made great contributions to the headquarters, but when I was promoted, no one objected. Zu Ye said: “When setting up the scheme in Sichuan, Da Tou stood up to block bullets for me.” Actually, at that time, I hadn’t considered so much—seeing them about to seize Zu Ye, I just rushed forward. But Zu Ye said: “What’s instinctive is most genuine.”

At that time, besides the “Jiang Xiang Sect” fraud group nationwide, there were many large and small “societies and secret religious sects” still deceiving people, still causing trouble.

According to normal logic, Zu Ye should have been very cautious at this time. But during that period, Zu Ye acted contrary to his nature, ordering the various Batous and Xiao Jiaos to frequently strike. At the same time, Zu Ye appeared high-profile, calling the leaders of various “societies and secret religious sects” brothers. This completely didn’t conform to his operating style.

When the Batous saw this, they thought Zu Ye was going against the government. One day, Zu Ye called Wang Jiaxian and me to the headquarters, telling us there was a scheme and having us two do it. Logically, this scheme wasn’t small. Wang Jiaxian and I could be considered novices among the Batous, neither of us having much experience. Zu Ye could have completely had Er Batou and others handle it, but Zu Ye specifically chose Qi Batou and me.

Still that saying: Zu Ye’s words—you could doubt them but couldn’t oppose them. Later, after I entered prison, I discovered Zu Ye did this deliberately. Wang Jiaxian and I entered the trade late and hadn’t done any major schemes. Zu Ye wanted us to have sufficient crimes to enter prison.

Thirty li outside town, in a neighboring township, there was a wealthy household surnamed Li who did grain and oil business. Before the Kuomintang retreated to Taiwan, this wealthy family had dealings with the Kuomintang. During those years of hoarding and speculation, they’d made quite a fortune. This wealthy man was called Li Zuoshan, over sixty years old. Because of baldness, the hair on his head had long since fallen out. People all called him Baldy Li. Baldy Li had four sons. The eldest, because of his big belly, was nicknamed “Big Belly.” The second, because his ears didn’t work well, was nicknamed “Second Deaf.” The third, because he was too cunning, was called “Third Sharp Spirit.” The fourth, because as a child he constantly stole sesame oil to eat, loosening his bowels and always using the toilet, was called “Fourth Old Shitter.” This whole family, old and young, had money and power, bullied the village, and no one dared provoke them.

That spring, Baldy Li contracted tuberculosis. He invited three or four doctors, drank much medicinal soup, but it just didn’t work. Seeing his condition worsen day by day, the four sons began discussing the old man’s funeral arrangements.

Wealthy families attached great importance to feng shui for burials. They believed the quality of feng shui where ancestors were buried directly affected whether future generations would flourish. If the feng shui was ruined, descendants would quickly have bad luck. Thus, after the local security chief instigated them, the opportunity came.

I had learned from Zu Ye that feng shui divided into two aspects: yang dwelling feng shui and yin dwelling feng shui. Yang dwellings were places where living people resided; yin dwellings were places where dead people resided. Zu Ye said: “For this scheme, Wu Batou and Qi Batou will do it. Wu Batou will play the feng shui master; Qi Batou will play the apprentice.”

I was fat with small eyes and a face full of vicissitudes, so with a fake beard attached and wearing a tall hat, my age span could reach several decades. Wang Jiaxian was just the opposite—fair-skinned with a strong scholarly air. Shave his beard and he looked just like a little apprentice.

Examining feng shui emphasized “seeking dragons and pointing at acupoints.” Dragons were mountain ranges; acupoints were the most auspicious positions within mountain ranges. The so-called “dragons fear loneliness, acupoints fear cold” meant dragon veins should be embraced by mountains and water, surrounded by peaks. A solitary barren mountain standing there was a lonely dragon. Acupoints should store wind and gather water, unable to leak wind or leak qi; otherwise they were cold acupoints.

On the day of feng shui inspection, all four of Baldy Li’s sons showed up. Everyone walked around the hillside for a long time. Originally, I wasn’t this old, my legs were quite nimble, but Qi Batou kept supporting me, holding a compass in his hand, making me quite tired instead.

Qi Batou said to those four sons: “My master has been in this trade for decades and has never made a mistake. The feng shui he selects are all treasured places that store wind and gather water. Many families’ descendants have become wealthy and noble; some even became high officials.”

Big Belly said: “Then we must trouble the master!”

I held the compass, gestured for a while, then said: “May I ask the four gentlemen, do you want future fortune or official fortune?”

Fourth Old Shitter rushed to say: “Fortune, of course fortune. With money, things get done easily.”

Second Deaf said: “Mm, Fourth is right.”

Third Sharp Spirit’s mouth twisted: “What do you understand? It’s still better to be an official. With officialdom comes wealth. A security chief makes tens of thousands a year. And that Vice Official Xu who used to be on good terms with our old man—wasn’t he just a dog-shit secretary? Look how fat he is! Our family hasn’t produced a single official over these years, so every time something happens, we have to spend money hand over fist to avert disaster.”

Big Belly finally spoke: “Arguing! Arguing! All you know is arguing!” Then to me: “Does the master mean that official fortune and wealth fortune must be separate, that both cannot be good simultaneously?”

I thought: Here comes the hook—I was waiting for exactly this line. If I adjusted everything perfectly for you all at once, it would seem too lacking in technical content. I said: “There’s difficulty.”

Big Belly said: “Master, just operate. Money is not a problem!”

Qi Batou said: “This isn’t about money. My master has to perform rituals. This will consume much of his vital energy. To put it bluntly, it shortens his life.”

Big Belly said: “Please, Master, be compassionate. Under the premise of not harming your body, try your best to pick a good place for the old man, so we four brothers can have both official position and fortune.”

I said: “Feng shui is a long-term matter. It doesn’t necessarily manifest in you four brothers. It might be that your sons or grandsons will become wealthy and noble in the future. You’re so eager—this old man doesn’t dare operate!”

Big Belly said: “Master, please don’t be angry. We four brothers don’t mean that. As long as future generations are successful and wealthy, that’s good. We don’t care about one or two generations.”

Actually, this was precisely the mysterious aspect of feng shui arts. Once you said three generations, when their sons and grandsons grew up, decades or even over a hundred years would have passed. Where would they find this feng shui master to settle accounts?

Thus, going with the flow, we set up a large ritual site on that hillside, marked out the burial range for them. Within a few days, Baldy Li died. On the burial day, many people came. A group of A’Baos wore Daoist robes, circling around and around the grave pit, finally burying Baldy Li ceremoniously. The surrounding people all said: “Truly a wealthy family! How much money must this cost!”

Zu Ye’s verbal instruction for all feng shui schemes was: “Don’t select on a riverbed.” Meaning no matter how you selected, the grave absolutely couldn’t be chosen on a mountain riverbed, because this was a place where water passed through. When it rained, it would form a river. If selected there, the grave would easily be flooded, and then you’d be in big trouble!

I kept this instruction firmly in mind, so I selected a slightly elevated place for Baldy Li and told those four sons: “This is called ‘dragons soaring, tigers leaping’—future generations will definitely produce great officials!” Those four sons couldn’t stop smiling. At that moment, I felt their father’s death brought them not grief but joy.

In this world, there’s a saying: “Human calculations cannot match heaven’s calculations.” I calculated all the heavenly secrets, never expecting heaven would go against me. This probably also foretold the end of our headquarters’ fate.

Within two weeks of Baldy Li’s burial, summer began. Strangely, that year had particularly frequent rain. For half a month straight, drizzling continuously, sometimes heavy, sometimes light. The result was a landslide. That high ridge where Baldy Li was buried was also washed by rainwater until the coffin lid was exposed. Later, mudslides swept through, washing the tombstone and coffin far away. Large rocks crashed into the coffin, smashing it to pieces. When those four sons went up the mountain to check, coffin boards were scattered here and there. Over ten meters away, they finally found Baldy Li’s corpse deeply embedded in the mudslide, with only one rotten hand sticking out, as if saying: “The feng shui of this grave doesn’t seem very good!”

Soon, informants transmitted this news to Zu Ye, also saying the other party was going to bring the corpse to make trouble. When Qi Batou and I heard this, we were scared silly. We hurriedly knelt before Zu Ye: “Zu Ye, save me!”

Unexpectedly, Zu Ye was unusually calm, saying: “Get up. It hasn’t reached that point yet.”

The informant said those four brothers had dealings with Kuomintang assassins. This time, we probably had to hand over an A’Bao to pay with his life, otherwise we couldn’t get past this hurdle.

I said: “Zu Ye, if we must hand over someone, then let it be me. I was in charge of this matter. Qi Batou was just an attendant. I selected the wrong place…”

Qi Batou said: “No! Zu Ye, Fifth Brother made no mistake. Human calculations cannot match heaven’s calculations. This place hasn’t had such heavy rain in a hundred years. We can’t blame Fifth Brother. Zu Ye, observe clearly!”

Zu Ye said nothing. He said: “You two go back and eat first. Don’t wander around these days. Don’t worry about the rest.”

We were stunned, wanting to say more. Zu Ye waved his hand: “Go back.”

That night, Qi Batou and I bought two large pots of wine and five jin of roasted meat, thinking: First eat full, drink enough—even if we die, we can’t be starving ghosts.

Previously, when such major incidents occurred, to preserve the headquarters’ overall interests, basically one or several feet had to be cut off because everyone else still needed to survive.

We didn’t know how Zu Ye would make the choice. At that moment, we felt our lives were grasped in Zu Ye’s hands.

For three consecutive days, we lived in constant fear. Later, Zu Ye sent word for us to attend a Council Meeting. Qi Batou changed into his favorite long gown, moistened his hair and smoothed it back. I also shaved my beard. Before leaving, facing the direction of my hometown, I kowtowed several times to my deceased mother, thinking: This life I couldn’t be filial to you. In the next life, I’ll be filial to you.

At the Council Meeting, Zu Ye said: “This exposed scheme—the responsibility doesn’t lie with Wu Batou and Qi Batou. This is heaven’s will.” When Zu Ye spoke, there wasn’t a trace of expression on his face.

Later, Er Batou told us that to save us, Zu Ye had broken bones and tendons, spent a huge price, bribed several bandits, and also smoothed things over with several people with special agent identities, compensating them much money.

Hearing these things, Qi Batou and I both cried. Qi Batou said: “Next time, even if it means risking death, we must do a big scheme to properly repay Zu Ye!”

I said: “Life was retrieved by Zu Ye. A lifetime can’t repay him.”

The “next time” Qi Batou mentioned never came to pass.

Zu Ye’s Unknown Wife and Child

In 1952, a new round of crackdowns on “societies and secret religious sects” vigorously unfolded nationwide.

Zu Ye seemed to have sensed something early on. One day after a Council Meeting ended, he kept me alone. He walked back and forth with his hands behind his back, seeming to want to say something, stopping several times before speaking.

Following Zu Ye for so long, this was the first time I saw him in this state. After a long while, he said to me: “Da Tou, if there’s an opportunity, you can wash your hands and do something else.”

I was so scared I immediately knelt: “Zu Ye, I’ve never had divided loyalties! I will never betray you in this lifetime! Zu Ye!” During that period, the winds were tight. I thought Zu Ye believed I wanted to retire.

Zu Ye said desolately: “I’m serious. You entered the trade late, have no blood on your hands. After going in, you can still come out. Stop deceiving people. Live a good life! Live a normal person’s life!”

I said timidly: “Zu Ye, when the winds are tight, just lay low. After the winds pass, start again.”

Zu Ye shook his head: “You don’t understand. You don’t understand.”

After a long silence, Zu Ye said: “Da Tou, there’s something…” Saying this, Zu Ye paused, his voice somewhat trembling.

I listened quietly, my heart pounding.

When the war against Japan ended in 1945, Zu Ye went to Shandong, originally for antiques. Zu Ye liked collecting. There was news that a dragon-carved jade disc from the Qianlong period was for sale there. That year, rainfall was heavy. Zu Ye had severe rheumatism. The second day in Shandong, his leg hurt so much he couldn’t lift it. Later, through a local antique dealer’s introduction, they invited a female doctor to give him acupuncture. That woman had inherited medical skills. Her father, in 1940, because he refused to treat a puppet army leader, was beaten to death.

Zu Ye said: “Some doctors, when giving you needles, practically strip you naked and still can’t find the acupoints accurately. But that girl—I was wearing an undershirt at the time. She had me lie on my side on the kang, and every needle hit the mark!”

Zu Ye said he developed feelings, planted a seed. Later, after the child was born, that woman alone raised the child in Shandong. Zu Ye appeared in Shandong as an antique dealer. The local antique dealers also treated him as an expert appraiser in the circle. So Zu Ye told that woman he was a genuine antique dealer. From then on, Zu Ye went to Shandong every six months, constantly concealing his identity.

Only then did I understand why Zu Ye sometimes traveled far without bringing any feet, and no one knew where he went. What we should know, Zu Ye would tell us. What we shouldn’t know, no one dared ask.

A’Baos weren’t allowed to marry casually. If they wanted to marry, then that woman also had to be developed into an A’Bao. Otherwise, it was too dangerous. Because the human heart was hardest to control. If one’s own wife knew one was deceiving people, no one could guarantee what she might do.

Therefore, if anyone in the headquarters wanted to marry, Zu Ye personally approved it. After those women became A’Baos, they generally played “supporting roles” like spirit mediums, witches, female Daoist priests, etc. But Zu Ye, in everyone’s eyes, had never had a woman.

This news was truly a bolt from the blue. If the Batous knew Zu Ye still kept this trick up his sleeve, they would definitely all rebel. At this moment, if someone proposed executing Zu Ye, I think no one would object.

Zu Ye said: “It’s not that I’m sorry to the brothers. I just wanted to leave an heir for my family. In the sixth year of the Republic, all my family died. These years, fighting and killing, I also wanted to live peacefully and safely. There’s no longer a chance for me. You have one. You must properly grasp your future days.”

Zu Ye told me that after he died, if I was still alive, when the winds weren’t tight, I should find an opportunity to visit the mother and child. Saying this, Zu Ye smiled: “It’s a boy. The family line can continue.”

Zu Ye also told me a secret: He had buried a chest at the mountain pass of Yuejia Ridge outside the city between two large locust trees. Inside were all genuine goods. Zu Ye said what he should vomit up, he would vomit up, but he had to keep some money for the mother and child. Later, when Zu Ye’s home was raided, although they confiscated many things, no one knew there was still a chest of treasures. Zu Ye always kept backup plans.

This reflected Zu Ye’s economic acumen. During these years of Kuomintang rule, the currency system was in complete chaos. From “Yuan Datou” to “Sun Xiaotou,” from fabi currency to “Gold Yuan certificates,” plus various copper coins, coinage, and shopping vouchers circulating privately among civilians—there were no fewer than a dozen types of currency. But Zu Ye only stored “hard currency.” He never believed in paper money that looked like white paper. Even when fabi currency was first issued with relatively high purchasing power, he tightly held onto real gold and silver. He would rather exchange for some fabi currency at intervals than sell everything. Later, after hyperinflation, it proved Zu Ye’s decision was too wise! Otherwise, what he’d leave his family now would be a chest of waste paper.

Over many years, Zu Ye accumulated quite a few gold bars, silver dollars, silver ingots, and also jade discs and pocket watches—antiques that wealthy families gave him when he examined feng shui. Zu Ye had me give that chest of things to his wife and child gradually when I had the opportunity. Zu Ye repeatedly instructed not to give it all at once—that would bring them disaster, might even cost their lives! If I lacked money, I could also use some myself.

I was so scared I immediately knelt, crying: “Zu Ye, I don’t dare!”

I timidly asked Zu Ye: “Why do you trust me?”

Zu Ye smiled and asked me back: “Da Tou, why did I have you join the headquarters?”

I was stunned for a long time, suddenly understanding! He wasn’t recruiting an A’Bao but someone who could be entrusted with final affairs. All of this was Zu Ye’s final scheme. He had been pulling the net from the top of the scheme all along. All the Batous were weights on this net. In the end, I became the person who gathered the net.

Zu Ye had observed me in the teahouse for a long time. When he left after drinking tea, he deliberately dropped money on the ground multiple times. I picked it up, chased him, and returned it to him. He was testing my greed for money. After entering the headquarters, when Er Batou took me to brothels, he deliberately had people tail us. He was testing my lust—after all, he was entrusting his wife and child to me; he had to be cautious. He deliberately discussed some headquarters matters with me—that was testing my scheming mind. He brought me to Sichuan to confront Qin Baichuan and those bandits—that was testing my courage and loyalty.

Fortunately, I withstood the tests. I couldn’t help but sigh. Zu Ye had commanded the headquarters for so many years with countless brothers under him. In the end, there wasn’t a single person he could trust. Was it that others couldn’t be trusted by him, or that he couldn’t be trusted by others?

I said: “Zu Ye, flee! You have many friends in Hong Kong.”

Zu Ye gave a bitter laugh: “Not fleeing.”

I didn’t understand: “Why?”

Zu Ye sighed. After a long while, he said: “Not fleeing. In the future, you’ll understand.”

Subsequently, he went to the ancestral hall in the back courtyard where the ancestral tablets of “Jiang Xiang Sect” generations were enshrined. This time, he didn’t let me follow in. He had me wait outside the door. Just like that, he slowly closed the door.

I didn’t know what Zu Ye said to the ancestors. In any case, he stayed for a very long time before Zu Ye came out. I vaguely saw that Zu Ye’s eyes were red.

In the following months, over 300 “societies and secret religious sects” nationwide were destroyed. Hundreds of thousands of “societies and secret religious sects” leaders and core members all received punishment. Zu Ye, because he was too deeply involved, wherever incidents occurred would “pull up the radish and bring out the mud.” He was finally exposed. In the end, because of a series of heinous crimes—murder, arson, bribery, fraud, spreading heretical ideas to deceive the masses—he was sentenced to death.

Before Zu Ye went to the execution ground, unlike others who were so scared they soiled their pants, he walked very calmly. In my view, it didn’t seem like going to death but more like liberation. He finally didn’t have to deceive people anymore, finally didn’t have to rack his brains weighing life and death.

Da Batou and several Batous who came from the Western Sect, because they had murder cases on their hands, were also sentenced to death. The remaining over 200 large and small members of the headquarters all received appropriate punishment according to the severity of their crimes. I was sentenced to five years.

I could never understand why Zu Ye didn’t flee, and moreover didn’t allow any Batous or Xiao Jiaos to flee. This was equivalent to him personally sending the “Jiang Xiang Sect” to its doom! Zu Ye said I would understand in the future. When would I understand?

The long sentence was as unbearable as dark night. In prison, I often thought of past years, thought of my deceased mother, thought of Zu Ye, thought of the drunken dreams and death-like existence of the past.

Zu Ye definitely couldn’t have imagined such great changes would occur in society after his death. He couldn’t imagine the fervor of the Great Leap Forward, much less imagine the frenzy of the “Cultural Revolution” and the intensity of “Smashing the Four Olds.” After all, he was just a conspirator, not a politician. The turbulent next twenty years—no one could predict them. That chest of things didn’t dare see daylight again until the 1980s.

After release from prison, the first thing I wanted was to visit Zu Ye’s widow and son. But I had no money in hand, not even enough for travel expenses. I found odd jobs at the town’s public-private partnership supply and marketing cooperative, earning money and saving for travel expenses.

At that time, the entire country was engaged in large-scale steel smelting. A small town actually built over 1,000 steel furnaces. Fanatical commune members dug for iron ore all over the mountains and fields, practically wanting to throw their household pots, bowls, ladles, and basins into the steel furnaces to melt. I truly feared they’d inadvertently dig up that chest of treasures at the mountain pass.

On several midday days, the sun scorched the earth, and people all hid at home avoiding the heat. I alone quietly slipped to Yuejia Ridge in the back mountains. Looking from afar, I discovered those two large locust trees were no longer there. My heart jumped in alarm. I ran a few quick steps, coming to that turning point at the mountain pass. I paced back and forth there, measuring the position of those two trees by feel. Later, after determining the range, I left. I knew that in that social environment at the time, no matter how many treasures you had, you couldn’t spend them. No one dared spend them, and no one dared accept them. Everything was planned economy, let alone this was stolen goods.

The next spring, I finally saved enough for travel expenses. Following the address Zu Ye entrusted before his death, I went to Shandong.

With great difficulty, I finally found them. When we met, that woman froze. I saw she was only in her thirties, indicating when she was initially with Zu Ye, she was only eighteen or nineteen. When Zu Ye died, he was 50, meaning they were over twenty years apart.

That woman looked me up and down: “You are?”

My emotions were in turmoil. Scenes from Zu Ye’s life tumbled through my mind. “I… I’m Zu Ye’s disciple. I’ve come on his behalf to visit you.”

“Zu Ye?” That woman asked, puzzled.

I immediately realized I’d almost let something slip. I hurriedly said: “Your husband. He was my master. We’re all in the antique trade.” I had promised Zu Ye to forever keep his secret.

That woman seemed frozen, staring blankly at me. After a long time, tears welled up: “He… is he still here?”

I couldn’t help it—I cried too. “Zu Ye caught a cold in 1952. Later it infected his lungs. In the end… he couldn’t be saved…”

That woman’s tears rolled down.

I wiped my tears and said: “Before Zu Ye died, he kept talking about you. These years, we merchants have all been accepting government reform. We haven’t had leisure time to visit you. We’ve been remiss, remiss.”

Just as we were chatting, a voice came from outside: “Mother!”

For the first time, I saw Zu Ye’s bloodline. Those angular features, those eyes—exactly like Zu Ye.

That woman hurriedly wiped her tears dry: “Child, come here. Greet uncle.”

I hurriedly said: “Cannot, cannot. I’m Zu Ye’s disciple. The young master and I are the same generation!” I also took out several candies from my pocket and gave them to the child. The child happily put them in his mouth, eating with relish.

I couldn’t help but sigh. Ten years east of the river, ten years west of the river. Who could imagine this poor child’s father was once a great figure who commanded wind and clouds? Who could imagine that Zu Ye, who threw around thousands daily, would have such impoverished descendants?

I left them some money and returned. I didn’t dare mention that chest of treasures, fearing it would bring disaster.

I had originally planned to visit the mother and child every year or year and a half. I didn’t expect this parting would last three years. Starting in 1959, the entire country entered a great famine—three years of natural disasters. Many people starved to death. How hungry were people at that time? When carrying corpses out of town, facing a small ridge half a foot wide, several men would hesitate repeatedly, not daring to step over. They were so starved they had no strength at all. Once they fell down, they could never get up again. Once when I went to the toilet, I pulled up my pants and just stood up when everything went black before my eyes. I collapsed headfirst on the ground. A broken rusty iron pot happened to be in the corner. My forehead struck right on the pot’s edge. Blood flowed all over the ground. It wasn’t that I didn’t think about the mother and child—I truly couldn’t even take care of myself.

The second time I saw Zu Ye’s widow was in 1963. Time spares no one. That woman had aged considerably, and the child had grown much taller. Two years later, when I saw her again in 1965, her temples had turned white, and her son had grown up and joined the military. Returning home, I felt immensely comforted. That night, I burned several sheets of yellow paper toward the place where Zu Ye was executed. Zu Ye’s spirit in heaven could rest in peace. I began pondering how to give her that chest of things.

The next year, the vigorous “Cultural Revolution” began. That year I was 38 years old. In June, the commune issued the slogan to “eliminate all old thoughts, old culture, old customs, and old habits created by all exploiting classes over thousands of years that poison the people,” calling on everyone to “sweep away all monsters and demons.”

I dug a deep pit in the back courtyard, buried that chest of objects, and piled thick chicken manure on top. I believed this might be safer.

During the Cultural Revolution, I didn’t dare move around or visit the mother and child, fearing I’d cause trouble and implicate them.

History finally reached 1976. The Cultural Revolution ended. After a few more years, I had some spare money. In 1979, I once again boarded a train to Shandong. I wanted to see how Zu Ye’s two people were doing.

Zu Ye’s wife looked much more prosperous than the last time I saw her, and had become director of the local traditional Chinese medicine clinic. Seeing me arrive, she shed tears of emotion. She asked if I’d been doing well these years? Had I been criticized during the Cultural Revolution? I said everything was fine. I told her I had also married and had children—dragon-phoenix twins, both 10 years old. I asked if her son had been demobilized. She happily told me her son had become a company commander and earned a first-class merit citation on the Vietnam front.

I couldn’t help but sigh. Fate plays tricks on people. Zu Ye spent his life swindling and deceiving, yet his son was serving the country loyally. This could be considered repaying Zu Ye’s debt.

I felt it was time to give her the chest of things Zu Ye left behind. I said to her: “Before Zu Ye died, he left some antiques and gold bars. Zu Ye told me to give them to you when the winds weren’t tight. These years, with the Smashing of the Four Olds, I didn’t dare give them to you, fearing it would cause trouble. Now everything has passed. It’s time to give them to you.”

When that heavy chest was placed before her, she covered her mouth and cried, cried for a long time. I also shed tears, thinking of Zu Ye, thinking of past years.

Her next move surprised me. She said: “Hand them over to the government. I joined the Party in 1966. I’m also an old Party member. These things belong to the state. This is a matter of principle.”

I stared at her stupidly for a long while, sighed and said: “Alright. But you must keep one item—that dragon-carved jade disc. Zu Ye went to Shandong to find that jade piece when he met you. Keep it as a memento.”

She held that disc in her hand, pressed it to her heart, and cried again. Walking out of her home, I sighed toward heaven. Zu Ye, everything you entrusted to me, I’ve completed.

Upon parting, looking back at Zu Ye’s widow, I felt immensely sorrowful: Zu Ye, why didn’t you flee with her back then?

A Fortune Teller’s Confession

Time flies, years make people old. In 1988, I was 60 years old, having lived a full sexagenary cycle. My legs weren’t nimble, my eyes were blurred, my sleep wasn’t good—this was probably related to my love of drinking tea. I was always accustomed to brewing a pot of tea after meals. When drinking tea, I would think of Zu Ye, think of the days and nights by his side. When night deepened, my wife would drape a garment over me. For decades, it had always been like this.

I was grateful to heaven for giving me such a good wife. Over these many years, she had cared for me with devotion, never abandoning me. She was always so good to me. She said I had suffered enough before. She married me to give me happiness. She said it and did it.

One day, I was wearing reading glasses and looking at a book when my wife came in from outside, handing me a book: “Old man, look at this. Why do I feel an article here sounds very much like your past affairs?”

I took it and looked—it was a “Confession Record” of criminals compiled by a legal weekly editor, recording confessions written in prison by death row inmates of certain major cases since the founding of New China. When people are about to die, their words are kind. When birds are about to perish, their cries are mournful. Some criminals guilty of heinous crimes would deeply repent before death, writing some things. For themselves, it was closure. For posterity, it was warning.

My wife had me read the third article. I opened the book and read carefully. I read until my blood boiled and tears streamed down my face. That article’s title was “Between Good and Evil,” written like this:

Between Good and Evil

Born between heaven and earth, who doesn’t want to be a good person? Yet worldly affairs are treacherous, fate is changeable. Once you step onto an evil path, you can never turn back!

I was born in the fourth month of the 28th year of Guangxu. My compound surname is Shangguan. My loving mother gave me the name Chengming, taking the meaning from the “Book of Rites”: “Sincerity brings clarity.” Also, because of the generational character “Guan” in the clan, my father gave me the infant name “Guansheng.” In the sixth year of the Republic, my family suddenly met with disaster. Within one month, seven relatives all perished! From then on, I was alone, fleeing through the underworld!

That year, I joined the “Jiang Xiang Sect.” Thanks to Master Zhang’s favor, I obtained the great position of “Mu Zi Lian.” Initially, I believed that with my own strength, I could reverse the lawless situation of the “Jiang Xiang Sect.” Therefore, for decades, I personally carried out all matters of the headquarters, large and small, taking the Way of Heaven as sincere thought, striving to implement the principles of prudent killing, abstaining from lust, abstaining from theft, robbing the rich to help the poor, and using evil to control evil.

However, the “Jiang Xiang Sect” was ultimately a motley crew! Sitting in this headquarters was like sitting on a volcano! Due to interests and needs, good and evil collapsed in chaos. Many things were beyond my control! Even worse, I couldn’t even control myself. Because of personal interests, I repeatedly killed innocents indiscriminately! Who in the world has no parents, no children? Those innocent victims—their wronged souls cannot cross over, seeking exit without doors. Whenever I think of this, I feel immensely guilty!

I once wanted to unify the “Jiang Xiang Sect.” Yet after exhausting my thoughts, I employed slaughter. When the four great headquarters all came under my control, I was utterly confused! Where should the “Jiang Xiang Sect” go? Where should I go?

For thirty years, I wanted to act on behalf of heaven. Yet I myself lost all righteousness, burning, killing, deceiving, plundering—committing every evil.

For thirty years, I wanted to teach the headquarters brothers to change from ghosts to humans, uphold kind thoughts, harbor benevolence and righteousness. Yet in the end, what I saw was chaotic fighting and killing, devastation everywhere.

For thirty years, I wanted to use evil to control evil, punish evil and promote good. Yet evil people became more evil, endless to deceive, while good people remained unteachable after long instruction. Truly lamenting their misfortune, angered by their failure to strive!

I wanted to just leave. At that time, I suddenly remembered what my friend Master Qingfeng said: whether I stay or leave isn’t important—what’s important is whether the “Jiang Xiang Sect” stays or leaves!

After Guangzhou’s liberation, I traveled across several provinces. I personally witnessed the prosperous and joyful scenes of the liberated areas. Such a state of national peace and people’s security—unprecedented in thousands of years!

I cannot leave. If I leave, the “Jiang Xiang Sect” will be leaderless. Several hundred people will inevitably scatter and flee. These people are like seeds. Scattered to every corner of society, once they land, they take root. They’ll continue deceiving, continue causing harm to the world!

I choose death. With my own life, I wash away the sins of my lifetime and also redeem the entire “Jiang Xiang Sect”! My headquarters brothers may hate me, but they’ll eventually understand: frauds ultimately have no future, and the method of using evil to control evil is also difficult to implement!

The “Jiang Xiang Sect” has continued for hundreds of years and has long completed its historical mission. Now with morality lost and fate exhausted, it’s time for it to end!

I earnestly request the government to severely punish my brothers. Only severe punishment can awaken them. When these prodigal sons turn back and walk the right path, they’ll definitely understand my painstaking efforts!

…

Seeing this, I was already sobbing! Zu Ye, I understand! I finally understand! I finally know why you didn’t leave, why you didn’t allow anyone to flee. Your efforts were so painstaking! The “Way” you’d been desperately seeking, you finally found it—prodigal sons returning, abandoning evil for good! With your life as the price, you redeemed us! I thought your greatest secret was your wife and child. I didn’t expect this was your final secret.

My wife came over and held me in her arms. I buried myself in her embrace and cried loudly, just crying and crying.

After crying for a long time, I suddenly had an idea. These years, what have those brothers and sisters been doing? How have they been? I want to organize a reunion, find those brothers and sisters from back then. I want them to know about this matter. I want to see what they’re all doing now!

I mobilized all connections, using every channel to contact those brothers and sisters from back then. When the court pronounced sentence that year, some heinously guilty people, especially A’Baos with blood on their hands, like Zu Ye, Da Batou, and several Batous under Qin Baichuan, were all sentenced to death. Most others were sentenced to fixed terms. Some who had just entered the trade, who hadn’t participated much in headquarters affairs, received lenient treatment from the government, released after labor reform for a period. After these people came out, those with local household registration found local work. Those from elsewhere, like the female A’Baos from the South Yue headquarters, all returned to their hometowns. Those from Sichuan also returned to Sichuan. So many years had passed. The older A’Baos had probably already passed away. So finding these people wasn’t easy.

After several months of bustling about, I finally found over 80 people. When everyone heard about the reunion, they were all very excited. Especially those brothers from “Mu Zi Lian” headquarters. Hearing that the organizers were Fourth Master, Fifth Master, and Sixth Master, they all said excitedly: “We’ll definitely come!”

I specially arranged a hotel. That day, I waited at the lobby entrance very early. After decades, I couldn’t recognize many people.

What I didn’t expect was that the first to arrive was actually a female A’Bao from the old “Yuehai Hall” headquarters. She looked about sixty years old. When she walked toward the hotel entrance carrying a suitcase, I already realized she must be a sister from the headquarters, but who—I couldn’t recognize her.

I stood there in a daze. She walked over smiling: “Is this Fifth Master?”

That cry of “Fifth Master” shook my whole body. I said: “You are?”

She removed her glasses and said: “I’m Liu Yumei under Yan Niang! We met in Sichuan in 1949!”

I suddenly remembered. In 1949 at Qin Baichuan’s headquarters, when Commander Liu was about to blast Zu Ye, Jiang Feiyan arrived. Later, two female A’Baos came in escorting those two grave-blasting fellows. Those two female A’Baos were Liu Yumei and Liu Hongmei, twin sisters, both Jiang Feiyan’s personal attendants.

I hurriedly said: “Oh, Sister Yumei, please come in, please come in!”

Over eighty people gradually all arrived. They all affectionately called me “Fifth Master,” making my heart feel warm yet sour.

Before eating, everyone asked me to say a few words. I mounted the stage, looking at these familiar yet strange faces. Scenes from the past suddenly surged to my heart. Before I could speak, tears fell first…

Zu Ye’s wish was realized. After government reform, the brothers all walked the right path. Some entered cotton mills, some entered post offices, some entered machine factories, some went into business doing small trades, some studied traditional Chinese medicine and became doctors, some became teachers. A few people, including me, due to special feelings for the I Ching, began studying it earnestly.

During the banquet, a Xiao Jiao asked me: “Fifth Master, after learning the true I Ching, what are your thoughts?”

I said: “The true I Ching is a book of supreme good. Symbol, number, principle, divination—pure, clean, refined, subtle. Heaven and humanity united, heaven and earth harmonious. Without knowing the Changes, one cannot be a gentleman.”

Another Xiao Jiao stood up and asked: “Fifth Master, what exactly is the I Ching?”

Hearing this, I felt both amused and desolate. What a “Jiang Xiang Sect” fortune teller—using the I Ching banner to deceive for a lifetime, yet not knowing what the I Ching was. This was our terrifying aspect, even more our tragic aspect.

I gave a long sigh and said: “The I Ching—the character ‘Zhou’ has two interpretations. One holds that ‘King Wen composed the Zhou Changes while imprisoned,’ that the sixty-four hexagrams of the I Ching were born in the Zhou Dynasty, hence called Zhou Yi. Another holds that ‘Zhou’ means cyclical repetition, representing the operating laws of all things in heaven and earth. The character ‘Yi’ is a pictograph—’sun’ above, ‘moon’ below—indicating the I Ching studies the relationship between sun, moon, stars and Earth. Therefore, the I Ching explores universal truth. The original I Ching text contains only sixty-four hexagrams with hexagram and line statements, but the Zhou Yi we see now has two parts: one is the original I Ching text, the other is commentary added by Confucius—ten commentaries total, later generations called the ‘Ten Wings,’ meaning Confucius gave the Zhou Yi ten wings so it could spread its wings and fly. Actually, Confucius commenting on the Zhou Yi was half blessing, half curse. When Qin Shi Huang burned books and buried scholars, precisely because Confucius commented on the Zhou Yi, the Zhou Yi nearly got burned by Qin Shi Huang as Confucian scripture. Fortunately, Prime Minister Li Si risked death to remonstrate, saying the Zhou Yi was just a divination book unrelated to Confucius—only then did it escape disaster. At the same time, precisely because Confucius commented on the Zhou Yi, the I Ching rose from a pure divination book to the height of philosophical scripture. Later generations saw Confucian learning flourish greatly. The Zhou Yi’s value multiplied, ranking among the Five Classics. By the Qianlong period, when the Qing government compiled the Complete Library of Four Branches of Books, the Zhou Yi leapt to become foremost among all classics!”

That Xiao Jiao continued asking: “Then what’s the relationship between the Zhou Yi, Eight Trigrams, and Sixty-Four Hexagrams?”

I chuckled. Finally, a valuable question. “The sixty-four hexagrams in the I Ching all discuss the way of yin and yang. The so-called ‘from Wuji comes Taiji, Taiji generates Two Forms, Two Forms generate Four Symbols, Four Symbols generate Eight Trigrams, Eight Trigrams combine into sixty-four hexagrams.’ What is Wuji? ‘Ji’ means limit or boundary. Wuji means limitless, beginningless and endless, chaotic state. Within the Wuji process, Taiji gestates. Taiji is the beginning of things. Pangu separated heaven and earth—with heaven and earth, Taiji appeared. Taiji generates Two Forms. Two Forms are yin and yang—the two-sided nature of things. Heaven is yang, earth is yin; men are yang, women are yin; day is yang, night is yin. Two Forms generate Four Symbols. Four Symbols refer to lesser yin, greater yin, lesser yang, greater yang. They describe the changing laws of yin and yang, like a person from small to large, large to old—reflecting things changing from weak to strong, strong to weak, cyclically developing. Look at that Taiji yin-yang fish—it’s yin and yang waxing and waning. Four Symbols generate Eight Trigrams. In the waxing and waning process, yin and yang further refine into eight trigrams: Qian, Kun, Zhen, Dui, Li, Kan, Xun, Gen. Qian represents heaven, Kun represents earth, Zhen represents thunder, Dui represents marsh, Li represents fire, Kan represents water, Xun represents wind, Gen represents mountain. Thus, Earth’s basic natural phenomena are completely covered. Eight Trigrams pair two by two, forming sixty-four hexagrams. Thus, all things in heaven and earth—none are excluded…”

“Haha, who’d have thought Fifth Master became a true I Ching master!” A bright laugh interrupted my words. Liu Yumei came over holding a wine glass.

This reunion, what surprised me most was this Liu Yumei from “Yuehai Hall.” After release from prison, she became a textile worker. Clever and dexterous, outstanding at work, she quickly became a team leader. Under her leadership, everyone in her group was a strong woman, always exceeding quotas. Later she became workshop director, even being selected as one of New China’s first batch of “March Eighth Red Banner Holders.” After reform and opening, she resigned and plunged into business, doing clothing business in the south. Currently her assets exceed several million. After becoming wealthy, she donated to several Project Hope schools, frequently sponsored nursing homes. She was enthusiastic about public welfare, enthusiastic about protecting women’s rights. Now she was even local women’s federation director. I couldn’t help sighing: A’Baos are all clever people. As long as they use their brains for the right path, whatever they do, they do better than ordinary people.

I felt it was time to tell everyone about Zu Ye’s final words in prison. I said to everyone: “A book came out recently. I wonder if you’ve seen it?”

Everyone asked: “What book?”

I took out that book, slowly walked onto the stage, very excited, my hands also began trembling. I took a deep breath, calmed myself, and slowly read Zu Ye’s prison confession.

After finishing, everyone was silent. I said: “This confession has always been tucked in Zu Ye’s case file from back then. Recently, the government conducted legal education. A legal weekly editor compiled it, publishing it as part of a manuscript. My wife discovered it while browsing a bookstore.”

Si Batou slowly stood up, tearfully holding his wine glass, trembling as he said: “Let’s toast Zu Ye!”

Several women were already crying aloud. Everyone raised glasses together: “Zu Ye eternal!”

This was the Zu Ye everyone followed all their lives—that Zu Ye who inspired respect yet fear. Alive, he sought wealth for everyone. Dying, he sent everyone onto the right path.

Liu Yumei was already sobbing uncontrollably. I walked over, handed her a handkerchief. She wiped her tears: “Fifth Master, you mentioning Zu Ye makes me think of Yan Niang again.”

I still didn’t know Jiang Feiyan had died. I asked: “Any news of Yan Niang?”

Liu Yumei said: “Late last year, when I went to Hong Kong to discuss business, I saw her in a newspaper.”

I asked: “She’s doing well?”

Liu Yumei’s tears fell again: “She passed away. Died last March. The newspaper said she became a legislative councilor there, always advocated cross-strait reunification. She opposed Taiwan independence. She said both sides of the Taiwan Strait are blood-connected. Before death, her greatest wish was to return to the mainland, visit Guangdong, visit the Jianghuai region.”

Hearing this, my heart ached. She was still thinking of Zu Ye.

Jiang Feiyan also wrote a poem in Taiwan, also reprinted in that Hong Kong newspaper. Liu Yumei clipped it out, always treasuring it. The title was “Longing,” written like this:

Don’t know how much longer to wait Don’t know how much longer I can live Only hope the distance of living exceeds the distance of waiting

Don’t know where people go after death Don’t know if the next life will be different Only hope in the next life we won’t gaze at each other from afar

There’s a profession called fraud There’s a feeling called longing There’s a loneliness called Flying Swallow

Until death, Jiang Feiyan was still thinking of her Zu Ye. All her life she traversed the four seas, like a flying swallow, shuttling through azure sea and sky. Though sea and sky were vast, she remained always solitary.

That afternoon, after the banquet ended, some people had to leave. Others stayed two days. Then everyone went their separate ways.

After everyone left, my heart felt empty: Parting today, who knows when we’ll meet again? Perhaps next life.

The Immortal Huang Farong

In April 1998, 82-year-old Si Batou was critically ill. I knew another brother was leaving. We brothers who once followed Zu Ye always had good feelings. After everyone came out of prison, all lived ordinary lives, married wives, had children. Usually everyone would gather, drink a little wine, reminisce about past years.

When Si Batou was dying, I went to the hospital to see him. He’d been in the hospital a month, couldn’t eat, couldn’t excrete. His whole body was pierced full of tubes—for feeding, for evacuating waste, for urination.

I didn’t know what a dying person would think about. His whole life? Or where his soul would go after death? All his life he researched “Za Fei,” made various props cooperating with Er Batou to set up schemes. In the end, tubes pierced his whole body. Perhaps this was karmic retribution.

I tightly held Si Batou’s hand. He was already very weak. I bent down, softly said: “Fourth Brother, it’s Fifth.” He laboriously lifted his eyelids, looked at me, smiled slightly. Then he gestured for his children guarding him to go out. He had words for me.

Only we two remained in the room. I softly asked: “Fourth Brother, if you have anything to say, just say it.”

He paused, blinked, said with difficulty: “Fifth, I’m leaving… There’s something I’ve kept bottled up for a long time…”

My heart jumped: “What matter?”

Si Batou looked toward the door. I immediately understood his meaning. I turned, opened the door, stuck my head out looking into the corridor. His children were talking at the corridor’s end. Looked like they wouldn’t return soon.

I returned to Si Batou’s bedside: “Fourth Brother, speak.”

A tear squeezed from his eye corner: “Farong didn’t die. Zu Ye deceived me.”

My head buzzed: “What? Didn’t die?”

Si Batou said firmly: “Mm.”

“Farong” in Si Batou’s mouth—full name Huang Farong—was Si Batou’s former wife. She was a genuine “expert” in the A’Bao circle, extremely clever, could commune with heaven, earth, ghosts and spirits—the kind of “spirit medium” common people spoke of! The headquarters once had the reputation: “Calculating all heavenly secrets is Ghost Sister; King Yama investigating affairs asks Farong.”

Later, Huang Farong unfortunately perished in a scheme. Si Batou was grief-stricken to the extreme. All headquarters brothers knew these affairs. Now Si Batou suddenly told me Huang Farong didn’t die. This shocked me immensely!

Si Batou continued: “I only learned in 1995. I wronged her…” Saying this, Si Batou’s old tears flowed freely. His breathing suddenly became rapid. His eyes showed he couldn’t catch his breath. I rushed out of the room shouting: “Doctor! Doctor!”

Si Batou’s children also rushed over in panic. Si Batou fell unconscious. After that, he never regained consciousness.

Two days later, Si Batou died. Before death, he had a moment of final lucidity, loudly shouting: “Za Fei hand, Luban mouth, Za Fei leads Luban walking; leading walking, leading walking, leading out six beasts swimming opposite…”

I could hear this was a formula from the “Za Fei Secret Manual.” This Si Batou who became famous at age 15 across Shanghai’s foreign settlements once harbored aspirations to serve the country. Helplessly, fate was difficult. Just when he was showing his talents, the Japanese targeted him. If not for Zu Ye’s rescue, he’d have died long ago.

From then on, he followed Zu Ye. From that start, Zu Ye truly gained wings like a tiger, headquarters’ days truly prospered. Si Batou was too formidable! Zu Ye was his life-saving benefactor. He was even more Zu Ye’s noble person! After thoroughly reading the “Za Fei Secret Manual,” he immediately pointed out all its shortcomings to Zu Ye. Zu Ye had him create new “Za Fei” methods. After several days of deep thought, he immediately wrote a 10,000-character “Za Fei New Methods,” divided into chapters on Daoist methods, heaven’s numbers, meteorology, Western learning (physics, chemistry), charms, etc.—a comprehensive collection of old and new “Za Fei” arts. After Zu Ye read it, he exclaimed in wonder repeatedly, praising endlessly!

Once upon a time, Si Batou was in his prime. In the 1930s, he and his beloved wife Huang Farong closely followed Zu Ye. They challenged “Plum Blossom Society,” pacified “Taiji Gang,” eliminated “Central Plains Five Tigers,” destroyed “Jiaodong Zheng Half-Immortal”—summoning wind and rain, reaching the absolute peak! Zu Ye’s early territory was conquered together by them and Er Batou! That was an even more magnificent yet tragic legend!

Si Batou finally closed his eyes. Yet my ears still echoed his hoarse shout:

Za Fei hand, Luban mouth Za Fei leads Luban walking Leading walking, leading walking Leading out six beasts swimming opposite Chickens don’t crow, dogs don’t bark Ghosts eat human food, spirits jump Toad urine, ten winters making Red joy white mourning, no flavor …

That night, I still couldn’t sleep, constantly drinking tea. Si Batou’s words were only half-said. If Huang Farong truly didn’t die, this matter was huge. Huang Farong was originally a “Yuehai Hall” female A’Bao. Under Zu Ye and Jiang Feiyan’s supervision, Si Batou and Huang Farong married happily, became husband and wife. Huang Farong was the only female A’Bao proficient in both “Yuehai Hall Physiognomy Notes” and “Za Fei Secret Manual.” She mastered core secrets of both Southern and Eastern Sects. Before Zu Ye died, he burned both books. But books are tangible; thought is intangible. If Huang Farong still lived, would evil seeds still be sown? Where exactly was Huang Farong now?

Also, Si Batou said Zu Ye deceived him. Meaning Zu Ye clearly knew Huang Farong didn’t die yet deliberately said she died. Why exactly?

While pondering, I suddenly heard knocking on the door. So late—who was it? I put on clothes, opened the door, got a shock: “Zu Ye!”