Chapter 99

Chapter 99

Bian Hong woke up in the warm blankets of the little cottage, the damp streets and busy traffic from his dreams replaced by a cool summer breeze blowing through the room.

He blinked, sat up, and looked around, blanking for a second before it hit him where he was. He cleared his throat and called out on instinct, "Rong Feng?"

The door creaked open slowly, and Bian Hong looked over, but nobody was there. Just as he was about to look away, a little furry head poked out from behind the door, staring at him.

It was a polite little monkey. Bian Hong waved it over. After a second of hesitation, the monkey squeezed through the door gap, stood up on its back legs, and waddled over like a tiny person.

Its back legs were still shaky, wobbling the whole way over. When it got to the edge of the kang, it couldn't hop up, so it grabbed the edge with its long arms, plopped its little head on the bed, and blinked up at Bian Hong real focused-like.

Bian Hong first rubbed the monkey's little hand—black skin, golden fur, but shaped just like a kid's—then bent down and scooped it up. The monkey snuggled into Bian Hong's arms and held on tight, like it was back in a family member's hug.

Bian Hong gave it a little heft—heavier now. That month of milk hadn't been for nothing. He hoped being raised on milk from all those different moms would help it grow up strong and healthy.

Just as he was thinking about whether to send a few more cuts of meat to the young wives in the village who'd been nursing it, he heard familiar voices outside.

"Big bro, why isn't Brother Xi up yet? Should we have Silver Frost haul him to a doctor?"

"It's fine, your Brother Xi's just tired and needs a good sleep. He'll be right as rain once he's up. Don't worry."

"Should we put some sugar in the porridge? A brown sugar shop opened up next to our fish ball stand. Guan Bao got a hankering, so I grabbed a few pieces to share, and I saved one for you and Brother Xi each."

While they were talking, the door creaked open, and there was Rong Feng holding a steaming bowl of rice porridge, with Yuan Ding next to him digging sugar cubes out of his pocket.

Guan Bao squeezed through the crack first, and when he saw Xi awake and sitting by the little kang table wrapped in a thin blanket, he yelled out happily, "Ah! Brother Xi's awake!"

Then, like a happy little bird, he spread his arms and flew at Bian Hong. Just as he went to hug him, he saw his brother's arms were already taken by the monkey, who turned its head and stared back at Guan Bao with big, innocent eyes.

Guan Bao planted his hands on his hips. "You little number seven, you sure know how to hog a spot. But not today—today I'm hugging Brother Xi first."

With that, he grabbed the monkey, yanked it into his own arms, then spun around and flung himself onto Bian Hong.

The monkey knew Guan Bao pretty well—after all, over the past month, besides Yuan Ding, Guan Bao had spent the most time with it. And since it was small and cute, Guan Bao figured he was a big brother now, and he took his babysitting job real serious.

So the monkey curled up in Guan Bao's arms, and Guan Bao curled up in Bian Hong's, all tangled together in a heap.

Yuan Ding squeezed in too, wrapping his arms around Bian Hong's neck and rubbing his face against him. He hadn't seen Brother Xi in forever, and he missed him a ton.

Rong Feng stirred the little packet of brown sugar Yuan Ding had pulled out into the porridge and brought it over to Bian Hong. "You up? You feeling okay? Have some porridge first."

All that time spent refining saltpeter and mixing gunpowder in that pitch-black cave, Bian Hong had even lost his appetite for a stretch. The weight he'd worked so hard to put on had just about melted off.

Last night, Rong Feng had sat by the sleeping Bian Hong, watching his skinny cheeks, sighing and pacing around with his hands tucked in his sleeves. He made up his mind to step up their meals from here on out.

He'd planned to head into the kitchen and stew a pot of cured pork ribs so there'd be food ready when Bian Hong woke up. But when Rong Feng swung open the kitchen door, full of big plans, he looked up and saw the beam where the cured meat used to hang was totally bare—not a single rib left.

All that was left was a pile of hemp rope that'd been holding the meat.

So in the end, the only thing that made it to the table was a bowl of thick rice porridge with sugar.

But right now, this bowl of porridge was exactly what Bian Hong's stomach needed. He felt light all over, almost empty, like only the weight of the two kids and the little monkey was keeping him from floating off.

Now with the hot porridge in his gut, even his body warmed up. As long as you eat your grains and swallow your rice, you can live with both feet planted on the ground.

Yuan Ding and Guan Bao were all over it—one holding the bowl, the other wiping Bian Hong's sweat. Rong Feng took Bian Hong's wrist, gently pressing his fingers to the pulse point, feeling each ordinary but lively heartbeat.

Outside the window, hooves clattered. Before long, the wooden window was carefully nudged open, and a horse head poked in. Seeing Bian Hong, it seemed to smile with its eyes and tilted its neck up.

Silver Frost was shaking its head at Bian Hong when it suddenly got shoved by something, its body bumping aside, followed by a big clatter.

A chubby bear head squeezed in next to the horse's head at the window. The little fat bear trotted up all excited, carrying its beat-up food bowl, and when it saw Bian Hong smile at it, it got even more worked up. It chucked its head, and the bowl hit the ground with a clang, spinning around a few times before landing upside down.

The bear cub stomped its feet, all worked up. The best cook in the house was back! The bear was over the moon!

And so, on this still-cool summer day up on the little mountain, in a tiny cottage, the whole family packed in together, loud and lively.

Bian Hong looked around and counted—counting the little monkey in his arms, that made seven. No wonder Guan Bao called it Little Seven.

Now the youngest in the family wasn't Guan Bao anymore. The monkey's arrival gave him some big-brother swagger. Actually, the bear was younger than Guan Bao too, but it grew fast—now it was a big ol' lump with stiff fur, looking pretty intimidating.

Before, Guan Bao was the one looking after the bear. Now, whenever anything went down, the bear would instinctively step in front of the two brothers. Just by standing there, even some bandit boss would have to size himself up, take a look at the bear's fat-bellied, muscle-packed frame, and wonder if he'd even make a decent meal for it.

Bian Hong nodded, feeling satisfied. Good—all four corners filled out, just right.

As the family gathered around, figuring out what to cook for dinner, somebody suddenly knocked on the courtyard gate.

Rong Feng set down the porridge bowl and headed to the door. Bian Hong also brought along a few "little tagalongs" toward the front.

As Rong Feng walked to the door, he thought to himself how wild life's twists could be. Back in the day, when he and his mom lived here alone, not only did nobody visit—folks didn't even know anybody lived on this mountain.

Not like now. Rong Feng figured the number of times this gate had been knocked on this year alone beat all the previous years put together. He'd even gotten used to answering the door.

Even with his expectations, Rong Feng was still a little taken aback when he actually opened the door.

No joke—it wasn't just people at the gate, but all kinds of beasts too. Looking out, you could only call it "a solid sea of bodies."

So even Rong Feng was a little stunned, though his poker face was so permanent that nobody could tell what he was feeling. He calmly opened the door and asked, slow and easy, "Where are you all from, and what do you need?"

The second he finished talking, an old Daoist priest pushed his way forward from behind the crowd of people and beasts. The priest swung his horsetail whisk, the one wrapped with steel needles and copper weights, and gave Rong Feng a good once-over. Seeing he was really okay, he let out a relieved breath.

But the first one to speak was a clean-cut scholar type. "My name is Jiang Si, courtesy name Ziying. I'm the thirty-fifth Mountain Guard of Yinhua Mountain. The other day I was out along the river, checking on the neighboring peak, when birds kept squawking in alarm. When I looked into it, I picked up signs of earth movement. Shocked—because for years the mountain's energy's been calm, the mists clear, no sign of tremors—how could..."

Before the scholar could finish, the old Daoist, fed up with his long-windedness, stuck out his thick, muscular arm to shove him back.

But the scholar didn't move an inch, planted as solid as Mount Tai. The old Daoist sucked air through his teeth and curled his lip, thinking to himself that these young punks, generation after generation, never turned out a single pushover.

Because he had a short fuse, he really didn't want to sit through this Yinhua Mountain scholar's endless classical blabbering. He even suspected that when the Yinhua Mountain guards picked their successors, there had to be a rule—like only handing the mountain down to stuffy bookworms—because every single generation talked the exact same way. Weird, really.

So the old Daoist let go, just patted the scholar on the shoulder, and cut in first. "Young friend, it's been a few months—what's this, you run into some big trouble? The earth tremor carried for miles. The ground-listening device at my temple was spinning like crazy from the shaking! You all okay?"

Before Rong Feng could answer, the old Daoist craned his neck to peek into the yard. "Where's your wife? Everybody in one piece?"

Bian Hong hurried out to greet everyone. The two kids were still shy around strangers, hanging onto Bian Hong's legs from behind. Even the little bear was spooked by the fierce beasts outside the door—these big, mean-looking animals were nothing like the ones in the nearby woods. Every one of them had a sharp gleam in its eye, clearly smart.

"Daoist! I'm good. Since we split ways outside the city that day, I hope you've been doing well."

The old Daoist looked at the young couple from Miemeng Mountain, all in one piece, and finally relaxed. "Haha, fine, fine! This old Daoist's doing just great."

Bian Hong could tell he was really fine—not just fine, but even his ropey arms looked a size bigger, more solid than before. Probably meant the Daoist would do even better in those debates now, since he could clock people even harder.

Once everyone came in to talk, Bian Hong and Rong Feng found out that their mountain-blasting at Miemeng Mountain had not only tipped off their master at Erl Long Kou, but had also been picked up by the nearby Mountain Guards.

All three hundred sixty-seven guards had always leaned on each other—independent, but always watching each other's backs. So the second they sensed something was off, they dropped whatever they were doing, scared they'd show up too late to help. They grabbed the toughest beasts and spirit birds from their mountains and hauled ass overnight toward Miemeng Mountain.

The mountains varied in distance, so their group arrived first. Along the way, the Mountain Guards could identify each other without even drawing close, for not just anyone could traverse the wilds with a pack of fierce beasts in tow.

This left Bian Hong and Rong Feng exchanging bewildered glances. They truly hadn't anticipated this—especially Bian Hong, who hadn't even expected Rong Di to sense it. In his view, an explosion would at most affect a few li (roughly a mile or two) around, and beyond that, the sound waves and tremors would have already faded away.

Rong Feng, however, knew that Mountain Guards had various methods for surveying geographical changes and mountain movements, but he hadn't expected guards from other mountains to come.

To be honest, in all his years alone watching over his mountain, he had never really viewed the Mountain Guard as a collective—after all, he had only ever met his master and his master's junior brother.

Who would have thought that, even without a formal summons, so many people and beasts would suddenly show up the moment something went wrong?

Bian Hong wanted to invite them all into the courtyard, but glancing around at the jackals, wolves, tigers, and leopards, he honestly feared these creatures might start fighting in the tight space.

Seeing that the couple from Miemeng Mountain were safe and sound, the various Mountain Guards were ready to head back to their own mountains, but Bian Hong stopped them. He brought out all sorts of provisions from his home and decided to treat these people to a meal first, since they'd traveled so far to help.

The Mountain Guards exchanged glances, finding it quite unusual. In the past, with the mountains so far apart and the guards so busy, they rarely met except for major events, and even then, they'd finish their business and leave.

Those who truly inherited the Mountain Guard role and lived in seclusion in the mountains were mostly reserved by nature, preferring quiet solitude with their families up in the peaks. Even the seemingly cheerful, carefree old Daoist had spent most of his life in his temple on Yufa Mountain.

But none of them turned down Bian Hong's invitation to gather. Their time together was brief, and they were all like-minded companions who held mutual respect for one another.

And so, this little courtyard hidden high in the mountains came alive once again.

Unlike ordinary hosts entertaining guests, Bian Hong and Rong Feng had prepared not only food for the humans but also tables for the beasts—and even then, they had to sort them by diet: one table for herbivores, one for carnivores.

But in the end, it all got mixed up anyway. Bian Hong watched a big gray wolf trot over to the veggie table and snatch a mouthful of baby bok choy, while a plant-eating elk stretched its long neck and licked up a piece of braised pork.

Thankfully, they didn't fight—Bian Hong said a silent thank goodness.

The poor little bear, though, was a regular social butterfly, carrying its food bowl loaded with what Bian Hong had packed, and sidling up to the fiercest, most formidable beasts with humble offerings—first one, then another, slick as could be.

And it worked. Before long, the bear had made friends with everyone and led Yuan Ding and Guan Bao right into the middle of the beasts. Whenever they spotted one they liked, the kids would step up and pet it.

Thanks to the bear's savvy social skills, the beasts were pretty accommodating. Each of them ruled their own mountain, yet they docilely let the human kids touch them. Some of the friendlier ones even lowered their heads to nuzzle and lick.

Inside the courtyard, the Mountain Guards clinked cups, swapping stories and tips on mountain stewardship, opening up without holding anything back.

Outside, the kids' laughter rang out—"gah gah gah gah"—as Yuan Ding and Guan Bao slid down the smooth, gorgeous fur of the great beasts, having the time of their lives.

Even the little monkey hopped down from Yuan Ding's arms and trotted over to a big blue ox lying on the ground, chewing its cud. The ox was gentle-tempered, having just swallowed a mouthful of grass before bringing another "gulp" back up, then chewing away with its lips pressed together.

Foam gathered at the corners of the ox's mouth as it chewed away. Curious, the monkey finally reached out a tiny finger and gently poked the ox's puffed-out cheek—soft and squishy.

The ox kept chewing, flicked its ears, and took a moment to nuzzle the little monkey back. It was the mount of the old Daoist Daochongzi of Yufa Mountain. Unlike its master's explosive temper—ready to throw down at the slightest provocation—the blue ox was steady and warm. Even surrounded by so many beasts, it stayed at ease, chewing its cud, and even found time to tease the little monkey.

The little monkey took a liking to this old ox grandpa, so it carefully climbed up the ox's neck—thicker than its own height—and lay between its two massive horns. Then, with nimble little fingers, it earnestly picked through the fur on the ox's head, grooming it like a comb.

Time on the summer hillside passed slowly. The days were long, and even when the sun would normally have set, the sky stayed bright. The sunlight wasn't harsh either, filtering through the passing clouds to cast patches of light in all sorts of shapes on the ground.

A cool mountain breeze swept by, ruffling the animals' soft, fluffy fur and blowing into the gray-walled, green-tiled home.

Deep in their cups, Daochongzi waved his meteor-hammer-like horsetail whisk and ran through a set of martial arts with light, graceful steps in the courtyard. Jiang Si of Yinhuashan rose and drew his gentleman's sword, still spouting classical quotes and muttering nonstop as he sparred with Daochongzi.

Halfway through, the old Daoist started hollering for a different opponent. Jiang Si's skill was elegant, but the Daoist just couldn't stand the scholar's yapping.

The old Daoist, however, sang the highest praises for Rong Feng's fist-and-foot techniques. He said to Jiang Si, "Stop nagging me. Since you've come all this way, you absolutely must have a bout with young Rong Feng. His hard, powerful moves are as smooth as silk—even if he were holding a broken wooden stick, you might not win."

Rong Feng wasn't one for small talk, but he was steady and spoke with substance, which earned him the others' respect. Combined with Bian Hong's unique insights, the group at the table felt an instant bond, as if they'd wished they'd met sooner.

Rong Feng didn't decline. Bian Hong grabbed a long, straight firewood stick and handed it to him with a grin. "Don't forget your broken wooden stick."

Rong Feng took the stick Bian Hong had picked for him, feeling even more at ease. He reached out and pinched Bian Hong's cheek, then sprang to his feet and clashed with Jiang Si, whose sword danced through the air.

Jiang Si's gentleman's sword was graceful and fluid, moving like a dance, but Rong Feng was a whole different breed—tall and agile, his every move bold and sweeping, masculine and imposing.

As the fight reached its peak, the crowd cheered. Bian Hong watched Rong Feng, robes fluttering and hair flying, and felt his heart swell with warmth.

Summer, evening sun. Bian Hong leaned back in his wooden chair with a smile, feeling a contentment he couldn't quite put into words.

Finally, in the glow of the setting sun, the Mountain Guards clasped their hands in farewell, promising to meet again soon. The others were still neatly dressed, but Jiang Si scratched his head—his green scholar's robe was dotted with black soot marks from Rong Feng's firewood stick. Yet Jiang Si was delighted, carefully folding the robe and tucking it into his pack.

Rong Feng hadn't struck randomly; each soot mark pinpointed a flaw in Jiang Si's defense. Where the firewood stick could reach, a blade could cut just as easily.

Jiang Si said he'd study it carefully and challenge Rong Feng again next time.

And then, they all departed gracefully with their beast companions, heading down the mountain and going their separate ways at various crossroads.

Together, a blazing fire; apart, stars across the sky.