Chapter 6: Is He an Expert?

Zhou Da sighed and said, “Alright. This was exactly what my wife and I were arguing about just now. But... I don’t know whether it’ll help. Go find someone. He might actually have some real ability. Back when my wife’s life was better a few years ago, he suddenly came to our house for no apparent reason. He took one look at my wife and said, ‘A breath of yang energy can’t be spat out, yet it can’t be swallowed down either. I mistakenly thought someone here knew the art of descending Mao.’ Then he said, ‘Forget it, I’m leaving. People who shouldn’t be together will only drag each other down in the end.’ After that, he left. Aside from our family having some suspicions, who else knew the details of what happened between my wife and me? He must be an expert.”

“Who is he? Where can I find him?” my mother hurriedly asked.

“He... you definitely know him. It’s Old Man Jiang.” Zhou Da spoke hesitantly, afraid my mother would not believe him.

“Old Man Jiang? You mean the Old Man Jiang who mysteriously appeared in our village a few years ago?” My mother truly found it hard to believe and asked again.

That old man was an expert?

But he really was an expert. He was also the person I respected most throughout my life, my master and father figure alike.

“That’s him. Go find him. If you’ve found the right person, then we have something to ask of you as well. I won’t say any more. My wife can’t take it anymore.” Zhou Da hurriedly finished speaking. His body shook violently, then went limp. Clearly, he had returned the body to Widow Zhou.

Widow Zhou looked even weaker than before. She lay motionless on the table. How could my mother simply ignore her after getting answers about her own child? She hurried over to support Widow Zhou. The moment she touched her, she found her body even colder than before, and her breathing extremely weak.

Rural women were strong. My mother quickly helped Widow Zhou out of the west side room, then carried her to the main hall and settled her into a chair by the stove. Coincidentally, my father was there holding me and chatting with Zhou Er. Presumably they had chosen the main hall because the stove made it warmer.

The moment Zhou Er saw the situation, he cried out in alarm and hurried inside to fetch a quilt to wrap around Widow Zhou. Meanwhile, my mother rushed to the kitchen to make ginger soup again.

Watching them bustle about, my completely uninformed father could not help asking, “Xiuyun, is there anything I should do?” Although he knew nothing, he vaguely understood one thing, Widow Zhou had ended up like this because she was helping our family.

“Oh, there’s nothing you need to do. Just stay here and keep an eye on Yuehong.” My mother had no mood to explain things to him.

After a round of frantic activity, Widow Zhou’s condition finally improved somewhat and she regained her senses. She looked at my mother as though she had something to say.

My mother could more or less guess what it was and asked, “Should Old Chen and Zhou Er step outside first?”

Widow Zhou shook her head. It seemed she and Zhou Da were facing difficulties so serious that they could no longer worry about hiding anything.

“The expert said the two of us are dragging each other down. But I really don’t want to harm him. If I harm him, he’ll have no road left to walk. At least I can still become a ghost. That’s always how I’ve thought about it. And I feel sorry for little Zhou Qiang. Even if the Zhou family would definitely take care of him, a child with a mother is always better off. A child with neither father nor mother can’t bear it in his heart. If you can persuade the expert to help, then please help us.”

“Sister-in-law, what are you talking about? What do you mean becoming a ghost? What do you mean no father and no mother?” Zhou Er cared deeply about his sister-in-law and immediately shouted the questions.

Widow Zhou merely waved her hand, signaling Zhou Er not to ask further.

As an outsider, my father was bursting with questions, but it was not his place to speak, much less ask about my situation at a time like this.

As for my mother, she looked sincerely at Widow Zhou and, despite the icy coldness, held her hand and said, “I’ll do everything I can. Don’t worry. Actually, there’s something I’d like to say too. Sometimes what should be let go ought to be let go. Doing what’s best for the other person is also a sign of deep affection, especially when there’s a child involved.”

Gratefully, Widow Zhou nodded at my mother. Exhausted, she no longer wished to speak.

And so my father, suppressing a stomach full of questions, returned home with my mother, whose mind was weighed down by worries.

On that freezing winter night, many people had already gone to bed and drifted into dreams. But my parents, having just returned from Widow Zhou’s house, had not the slightest desire to sleep. They even kept two bright oil lamps burning in the room.

By now, my father had already heard my mother’s full account of what had happened. His hand trembled slightly as he held his cigarette. After a long silence, he finally said, “Can this Old Man Jiang really be trusted?”

“Chairman Mao said that practice is the sole criterion for testing truth. Let’s go find him and see.” My mother leaned tightly against my father. Her eyes refused to close. The thought of ghosts gathering in their home like they were holding a meeting left her unable to sleep.

“Alright. We’ll let our son suffer one more day. I’ll head up the mountain tomorrow and find Old Man Jiang. Tonight... tonight we’ll sleep with the lamps on.” My father was terrified too. Otherwise, why would he sleep with the lamps lit?

At certain times, light can provide tremendous comfort.

Nothing happened that night.

The next morning, my parents got up very early. My mother quickly prepared a simple breakfast for my father. After eating, he put on his thick padded coat, stuffed two steamed buns into it, and prepared to head into the mountains.

Why carry two steamed buns?

Simple. The mountains beside our village were not particularly tall, but they stretched for dozens of kilometres. They were enormous. My father knew Old Man Jiang lived alone somewhere in those mountains, but he had no idea where exactly. The villagers did not know either. They only knew that he occasionally wandered into the village.

Under those circumstances, finding him quickly would be extremely difficult. How could he go without bringing some food?

The mountain paths were soaked with moisture in the morning. After walking for a while, my father’s trouser legs were completely wet. By the time the sky had begun to brighten with the pale light of dawn, he switched off his torch, sat on a large rock, and prepared to smoke a cigarette and rest for a few minutes.

“This Old Man Jiang really must be an expert, right?” As the smoke drifted upward, my father’s mind settled and he began muttering to himself.

If he were not an expert, how could he live alone in the mountains?

Leaving ghosts and spirits aside, the mountains were full of insects and reptiles. The snakes alone came in countless varieties, so many that even locals did not know how many species inhabited those hills.

An ordinary person would never dare live there alone.

My father felt he had found a convincing reason why Old Man Jiang must be an expert. His furrowed brow relaxed. But after a while, it wrinkled again as Old Man Jiang’s appearance and behavior resurfaced in his thoughts.

What kind of appearance did Old Man Jiang have?

His hair was white, and his beard long. His complexion was actually excellent, fair and rosy. But he was filthy. You could often see streaks of grime from not washing his face. His neck was the same. Even his beard had bits of food and other unknown debris stuck in it.

The clothes he wore were usually so dirty that their original color could barely be identified. Summer was not too bad, but during the rest of the year his cuffs always looked greasy and stiff. Just how long had it been since they were washed? How many times had he wiped his mouth on them for them to become like that?

His appearance alone was one thing. His behavior was even more baffling.

First of all, he was lustful. Whenever he saw a pretty young woman in the village, he would stare without blinking. Sometimes he would even follow her all the way down the road. Nobody was afraid of him. Everyone knew an old man like him lacked the courage to do anything. He just liked looking.

Even if people chased him away or cursed at him, he never got angry. Instead, he would mutter, “A gentleman is moved by emotion but restrained by propriety. The love of beauty is something everyone possesses...”

The mountain villagers had no idea what he was babbling about, so they often cursed at him even more fiercely. He would simply chuckle. Once he had looked his fill, he would leave on his own. At most, he would turn around and bellow a horribly off-key mountain song before shouting, “Pretty young ladies are beautiful...”

Besides that, Old Man Jiang loved food. Whenever he wandered through the village and discovered that some household had harvested or cooked something fresh, he would shamelessly ask for some. If people refused, he would linger around stubbornly. If he saw someone working, he would immediately jump in to help. Refusing his help did no good, and neither did trying to chase him away.

Generally speaking, if the thing he wanted was valuable, he would work longer. If it was something ordinary and inexpensive, he would work less.

Most families ended up giving him what he wanted. After all, produce from the fields was not particularly precious, and the mountain folk were simple-hearted. They could not bear to see an old man reduced to such behavior.