Qingshan

Chapter 24 : Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Dream Rooster

In Luocheng, a young man held a small black cat, walking along the night’s bluestone path. His steps started heavy but grew lighter.

Life goes on, doesn’t it? I had new hope.

“Dark Cloud, let’s talk about something fun,” I said, smiling. “Tell me about Prince Jing’s Mansion.”

Dark Cloud, curled boredly in my arms, nibbled dried fish from its blue bundle: “That rotten place? Nothing good to say. The mansion’s full of dirty secrets—maids and matrons galore. Like, Chunhua was bought by Consort Jing to seduce Prince Jing, but he barely glances at her. Or Chunrong, that venomous woman, jealous of Chunhua’s youth and beauty, spitting in her food…”

I laughed, shifting topics: “In your three months at the mansion, anything big happen?”

“Of course!” Dark Cloud perked up. “The mansion’s about to get lively.”

I looked expectant: “Oh?”

Dark Cloud said eagerly: “The Double Ninth Festival’s coming. Prince Jing’s eldest son, Zhu Yunxi, Consort Jing’s daughter, Zhu Lingyun, and Consort Yun’s daughter, Zhu Baili, are returning from Donglin Academy. Oh, and a young monk.”

“Young monk?” I asked, puzzled.

Dark Cloud explained: “Consort Jing says he’s a reincarnated Buddha child from Yunzhou’s Gening Sect. They need the court’s support and sanction, so he’s been sent to the Central Plains as a hostage.”

“Is Donglin Academy famous?” I asked, recalling my two brothers returned from there.

Dark Cloud said: “It’s said Donglin Academy, alongside Qingya and Yuelu Academies, are the Ning Dynasty’s top three, where all the world’s talents flock. Tuition’s steep, and only noble heirs can study there. A third of imperial exam scholars come from Donglin.”

“Three years away, their return should stir things up… Who’s the main consort, Consort Jing or Consort Yun? Whose child is Zhu Yunxi?”

Dark Cloud answered: “Neither’s the main consort. Zhu Yunxi’s mother, the main consort, died years ago… I’m heading back to Evening Star Courtyard!”

Nearing Taiping Clinic, it leapt from my arms and vanished.

I rounded a corner, and there was Old Man Yao, expressionless at the door: “Where’d you go?”

I thought, If I say I took a cat to find its mom, you wouldn’t believe me…

I said: “I forgot something at home during my day off, so I went back.”

Old Man Yao frowned, his forehead creasing: “The tuition today wasn’t from your family, was it?”

I froze.

He sneered: “I knew something was off. Your stepmother’s narrow-minded. To avoid Donglin Academy’s ten-tael monthly tuition, she sent you here as an apprentice. She might pay your tuition, but gifts for me? No way.”

I stayed silent, unsure how to respond.

Old Man Yao frowned again: “Wait, if not from your family, where’d you get the money? Don’t tell me you’re cozying up to some woman…”

His face changed, beard quivering: “You’re my Taiping Clinic apprentice! If word got out you did that, it’s like shitting in my pocket!”

I: “…Huh?”

“What ‘huh’?”

I hurried: “You’ve got it wrong. I’d never do that.”

“Then where’s the money from?”

I paused: “Master, I can’t say. I don’t want to drag you in.”

Old Man Yao eyed me: “Secret Spy Division? You’re working for them?”

I sighed. No wonder they say old age sharpens you—he guessed it from so little.

I could only say: “Master, Yunyang came to me. I had no choice.”

He stared long, then turned into the clinic: “Choice or not, you’ve chosen. I don’t care or ask—just pay tuition monthly. If you die out there, don’t let me know… Get to bed!”

The clinic’s gate shut. At Anxi Street’s end, three figures emerged. Yunyang, arms crossed, muttered: “Physician Yao doesn’t seem to like our Secret Spy Division.”

Jiaotu shrugged: “No surprise there.”

Yunyang turned to the third: “Dream Rooster, that apprentice is who I want interrogated. I need to know if he’s a Jing Dynasty spy.”

The man, Dream Rooster, wore a bright brown robe with dozens of vivid pheasants embroidered, like a stage costume.

He touched his neat sideburns, speaking shrilly: “A mere apprentice worth such a lavish expense? You dragged me from Kaifeng.”

“I paid, you work. I told you what you need—don’t ask more,” Yunyang said calmly.

“Fine, I’ll satisfy you. In dreams, I control everything,” Dream Rooster cackled. Jiaotu rubbed goosebumps on her arms.

Yunyang asked curiously: “One question: why openly reveal your cultivation path? Aren’t you afraid of trouble?”

Dream Rooster laughed: “The Inner Minister said I’m the only one in the world on this path. What trouble could I face?”

He sat cross-legged, pulling a yellow talisman from his robe.

Biting his finger, he drew on the talisman with blood, wrapped it around a strand of hair, and swallowed it!

Instantly, his pupils rolled up, leaving only whites!

…

…

I didn’t rest. I quietly lit an oil-slag lamp in the clinic’s main hall, studying The Compendium of Medicine.

Memorizing the 618 acupoints in the twelve main meridians was daunting.

It felt like a hot summer classroom, piled with papers and books, filled with the hum of reading. Study memories were the deepest of youth, tied to the sun’s rise and fall, rumbling loudly.

I wished for a Five Years of TCM, Three Years of Practice.

As I studied, drowsiness hit, like being wrapped in warm seawater in a gentle season, drifting to the ocean’s depths.

I grew alert. Since igniting the four furnaces, I’d been full of energy. This drowsiness was illogical.

But no matter my vigilance, my eyelids closed.

After an unknown time, I opened my eyes in a dream, standing before the Zhou residence’s vermilion gate.

What was I doing?

I looked at the yellow paper package labeled “Taiping Clinic” in my hand, then at the “Zhou Mansion” plaque.

Right, I was delivering tonic medicine to Lord Zhou.

Knock, knock, knock. I lifted the copper ring and knocked, everything feeling natural, forgetting this was a dream.

The gate creaked open. Steward Wang greeted with a smile: “Little Doctor Chen, you’re here? Come in.”

“Where’s Lord Zhou? His medicine’s here,” I said, following him as the gate closed behind.

I scanned the surroundings. Maids polished redwood furniture in the main room. In the courtyard, a woman smiled, holding a girl, a boy kicking a shuttlecock nearby.

Steward Wang led me to the main room. It felt oddly familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

Zhou Chengyi sat at a desk, copying a book with a brush, dismissing the steward and maids when he saw me.

I placed the package on the desk: “Lord Zhou, your medicine.”

He looked up, asking: “Does Prince Jing have new messages for me?”

I froze: “What’re you talking about, Lord Zhou?”

His voice darkened: “Have you forgotten? We’re Jing Dynasty Military Intelligence spies sent south. I liaise with the Liu family; you, with Prince Jing. I’ll ask again: any news from Prince Jing?”

I frowned, thoughts racing, but didn’t answer.

Zhou Chengyi pressed: “Forgot your identity?”

“Forgot how the Jing Dynasty Military Intelligence trained you?”

His voice grew louder, piercing: “Forgot you’re a spy?”

Each question pounded like a spell, dizzying me. My consciousness felt manipulated, my eyes rolling back.

My pupils turned white, and I said: “Lord Zhou, you’re mistaken. I’m no spy!”

Zhou Chengyi smiled, satisfied, having gotten his answer to report to Yunyang.

But curiosity struck: “How did you meet Yunyang?”

As he spoke, my dantian’s four furnaces blazed, burning away all inner demons and specters!

Unaware, Zhou Chengyi stood, leaning over the desk: “Why does Yunyang suspect you’re a Jing Dynasty spy? What’s special about you that he didn’t kill you?”

His last question came in a shrill voice, not his own.

My pupils snapped back. I turned and walked out!

“Zhou Chengyi” watched, stunned, as I strode to the vermilion gate and yanked it open.

Seeing it swing wide, he saw Yunyang and Jiaotu outside, smiling slyly, and gasped: “Yunyang, Jiaotu, how are you in my dream?”

Wait!

No!

He realized Yunyang and Jiaotu couldn’t invade his dream, nor had he conjured them…

The Yunyang and Jiaotu were my creations in the dream!

The dream was no longer fully his!

I paused, pointing at “Zhou Chengyi”: “Lord Yunyang, Lord Jiaotu, Zhou Chengyi is a Jing Dynasty spy, beyond doubt!”

Yunyang asked with interest: “Got evidence?”

I said firmly: “Does the Secret Spy Division need evidence to catch spies? Stick him and be done!”

“Zhou Chengyi” roared as Yunyang and Jiaotu lunged: “Wait… ah!”