Chapter 36: There Is Gold Beneath Your Knees, While I Have Only Dust

Chapter 36: Gold Beneath Your Knees, Dust Beneath Mine

The village brewed its own wine, all from pure grains or fruits, with low alcohol content; yet after a few bowls, one could not help but feel a little tipsy. The elders and Zheng Ji exchanged cups and words with Zhang Sanlu, trying to coax some secrets from him. But their speech was thick with local dialect, and in the noisy setting, it was hard to catch their meaning. Besides, how could Zheng Ji know any hidden matters about Zhang Sanlu? He only boasted of Zhang Sanlu’s miraculous abilities, nodding and smiling in response.

Soon, the gathering was full and satisfied. By then, dawn had broken, and the village elders hastened to arrange for Zhang Sanlu and Zheng Ji to return to the main hall and rest. They agreed to enter the mountain later, when the sun was highest, for with the carriage, it would be a quick journey.

The main hall was the sturdiest and most spacious building in the village. Inside, the solid wood beds were especially comfortable—crafted from fine pine, their grain clear and fragrant. The bed frames were carved with delicate patterns, a testament to the carpenter’s skill. Thick straw mats were laid as bedding, covered with hand-woven cotton quilts, soft and warm—a world apart from last night’s hayloft.

Led by the elders, Zhang Sanlu and Zheng Ji entered the hall. Though it wasn’t cold, the hearth was already burning, casting a warm glow. Hot tea and simple refreshments were set out on the table, everything thoughtfully arranged.

Once everyone left, Zheng Ji, who had seemed drunk moments before, suddenly perked up. “Master Daoist, I’ve found out about the cave in Mount Mourning,” he said. “The story’s been passed down for generations: it’s a cursed place, anyone who enters comes to misfortune, so no one dares go near. Still, people occasionally get lost in the mountains and are lured into the cave. Now, even the deepest woods are avoided for miles around.”

Zhang Sanlu mused that Zheng Ji was quite clever. “Weren’t you drunk? Did you manage to learn what powers that wicked old hag has?”

Zheng Ji grinned. “Master Daoist, you jest. How could one afford to get truly drunk here? Last night, when they treated you as they did, you showed kindness and agreed to help. I couldn’t but keep my wits about me and gather information, so we’re prepared when we go in. The elders and the three old men only speak of the evil spirit in hushed tones. Few have seen her face; it’s mostly young women, children, and girls from the village and nearby who go missing, said to be lured by heavy yin energy.”

Zhang Sanlu was surprised. “You intend to go in too? Why trouble yourself with this?”

Zheng Ji immediately dropped to his knees. “Master, forgive me. I may be a lowly peddler, but I have a heart that yearns for the Dao. Last time, you saved me, and I witnessed your powers—I longed to become your disciple. But I know I’m not worthy, so I’m content to lead your horse and bear your burdens. If you find me useful, and take me in, that would be my greatest fortune.”

Zhang Sanlu disliked people kneeling to him so readily. “Get up. Aren’t you a cloth merchant? Will you give up your trade?”

Zheng Ji stood, a bitter smile on his face. “The cloth I was carrying was meant for the tailor in Wei City, not mine; I only earned a small fee for delivering it. Now that the cloth is lost, I fear I’ll be beaten to death when I return.”

“And your family?”

“I have only an elder brother, who’s married and lives apart. He and his wife don’t care for me—I’m alone.”

Zhang Sanlu felt a pang of sympathy, but said, “Following me means hardship and danger, perhaps even death. I have little to teach; I’m no master. Truly, I have nothing but the ‘One-Eye Five,’ which the shaman sealed, and that skull hammer. I’m barely a half-baked Daoist myself.”

Zheng Ji, clever as ever, heard the meaning behind Zhang Sanlu’s words—he was welcome to stay. Overjoyed, he knelt again. “I fear no hardship. To lead your horse and serve at your stirrup is my blessing.”

“Stand up. If you’re to follow me, don’t kneel so easily. A man’s knees are gold; kneel only to heaven, earth, and your parents.”

Zheng Ji’s face flushed. He pondered Zhang Sanlu’s words, then said awkwardly, “Master, your words are wise as jewels. Truly, no one likes to kneel, but I’m low-born and accustomed to it. I kneel to my employer, to officials, to the nobles, and to the emperor most of all. Your knees are gold—mine are only dust.”

Zhang Sanlu frowned. “Too many in this world bow to power, kneel out of fear. But I believe a true man of ambition should have knees forged of iron, a spine of steel. ‘A man’s knees are gold’—don’t bend them lightly for mere survival. Are not lords and kings made of the same flesh?”

Hearing the last words, Zheng Ji’s eyes widened. “Master, be careful! Walls have ears—such words are dangerous.”

Zhang Sanlu merely smiled at his concern. He patted Zheng Ji’s shoulder with easy confidence. “Since you wish to follow me, you must know my character. A man should live proudly between heaven and earth, sword in hand, roaming the world—why be bound by old customs?”

Zheng Ji blushed deeply and pondered for a long while. Zhang Sanlu said nothing, knowing he’d suffered much since childhood, always cautious and careful—change would not come overnight.

Yet Zheng Ji took a deep breath; listening to Zhang Sanlu, his worries gave way to admiration and excitement. That heroic, unrestrained spirit was overwhelming. He’d thought himself lucky to meet such a miraculous man, far better than being a commoner; now he realized, following Zhang Sanlu, he might walk an extraordinary path—a thorny road, but one he’d walk gladly.

After a moment, Zheng Ji, still excited, saw Zhang Sanlu wide awake and tried to lighten the mood. “Master Daoist, it seems they’ve gone to great lengths to save that villager’s wife—quite an affair, haha.”

Zhang Sanlu curled his lip in a wry smile. “Didn’t you notice? Guo Wang has no such influence. If the shaman had come, their offerings would be only to summon his wife’s soul. Now, they treat me royally, with food and drink, and ten men ready for life and death—they want me to enter the cave and face some unknown evil!”

With two lifetimes’ experience, Zhang Sanlu saw through it all.

Zheng Ji sucked in a breath, finally connecting the dots. His teeth chattered. “Master, since you know, why agree to their request?”

Zhang Sanlu sighed. “Hui-niang is so sensible, yet so pitiful.”

Zheng Ji sighed as well. “From the first time I saw you, I felt you were… well, wild on the outside, but kindly at heart. Hui-niang, that little girl, is blessed to have your protection.”

“So you want to call me a demon, eh? Hahaha.” Zhang Sanlu caught the hint. With his current appearance, and especially if he pulled out that skull hammer, people would call him a demon for sure. “Enough, let’s get some rest.”