Chapter Fifteen: When the Carp Ascends the Stairs

The next day.

Morning light began to rise in the east.

Qingyuan first visited Mr. Ge, and soon after, they set out together on their journey.

Mr. Ge had taken refuge in this village for many years. He had always maintained good relations with his neighbors and had taught many students. Now that he was leaving, many villagers tried to persuade him to stay. When their pleas proved fruitless, even more came to see him off.

As for Qingyuan, though he had not been in the village long and was a man of few words, his humility and gentle manner had earned him good relations among the villagers. He too had taught several students and, like Mr. Ge, received many heartfelt farewells.

In the end, they still bid everyone goodbye and left Li Village.

Wang Shi, meanwhile, had taken in the black dog, and it seemed he too was considering leaving the village to seek his fortune. Yet he was still held back by lingering attachments and would likely remain a few more years.

The three of them had not walked far from Li Village when, from within the woods, the underbrush rustled and a figure emerged.

The newcomer was shrouded head to toe in a black robe, their face and form obscured, hands hidden within elongated sleeves.

Mr. Ge looked astonished.

After a moment of silence, Qingyuan spoke, “This is... a mountain fiend...”

At once, all fell silent.

Mr. Ge drew a sharp breath, his expression horrified; even little Yu appeared frightened.

Seeing this, Qingyuan reassured them, “Don’t be afraid, it has yielded and turned away from evil.”

He then briefly recounted the events that had transpired.

Upon hearing this, Ge Yu’er’s admiration for Qingyuan deepened, her eyes shining with reverence.

Mr. Ge sighed. “Truly, you are a practitioner on the path of cultivation.”

After all, the mountain fiend had once harmed Mr. Ge and abducted Ge Yu’er with evil intent. Thus, the old man and his granddaughter could not help but regard it with coldness. The mountain fiend, for its part, seemed uneasy and guilty before them.

Wild by nature, it had only become subdued under Qingyuan’s guidance. Now, having learned the breathing and meditation technique, it could slowly rid itself of the demonic nature rooted in its bloodline, gradually turning away from evil for good.

Thus, the three humans and one fiend traveled together.

Li Village lay on the borderlands, technically within Li County’s jurisdiction, but the journey was long. For ordinary folk without horse or carriage, the walk would take most of the day.

For Qingyuan, traversing mountains and rivers was routine. The mountain fiend, being a creature of the wild, naturally had no trouble.

But Mr. Ge was elderly and frail, and Ge Yu’er was still a child. After two hours’ walk, Qingyuan suggested they rest.

The group stopped by the roadside, cooling themselves under the trees’ shade.

During the rest, Qingyuan took the chance to instruct the mountain fiend further.

Curious, Ge Yu’er came to listen as well.

Mr. Ge, being worldly and mindful of decorum, kept his distance, but seeing his granddaughter’s interest, he made no objection.

Qingyuan felt no reservations; the breathing and meditation technique was basic, something he had devised himself and not a secret of the Purple Cloud Palace. He was not opposed to teaching it to Mr. Ge and his granddaughter.

After all, the pursuit of immortality and cultivation was a common yearning. But since Mr. Ge did not ask, Qingyuan left the matter to unfold naturally.

After their rest, they continued for some distance. The sun climbed high, its rays scorching, and they stopped once more. Only after noon did they resume their journey.

By the time they reached Li County, dusk had fallen and the sky was golden.

Within Li County, the most bustling place was a city called Licheng. Compared to larger cities, it was but a small town. Having wandered the world for years, Qingyuan had seen many grand cities and felt unmoved. Mr. Ge, though once familiar with such places, had lived in Li Village for so long that he now viewed it with a sense of nostalgia.

For Ge Yu’er and the mountain fiend, this was their first sight of a city, and they were awestruck.

The city walls stood tall and stretched endlessly, the gates wide and sturdy, guarded by soldiers.

They paid the soldiers twenty coins to gain entry.

Within Licheng, the streets were broad and busy with people and carriages. Vendors hawked their wares from stalls lining the sides, creating a lively atmosphere.

All manner of goods—tools, trinkets, food, clothing—filled the city in dazzling variety.

To little Yu, Licheng was a world apart from their poor village; here, anything one could wish for seemed within reach. Yet, amidst the abundance, there was a sense of unfamiliarity, and the warmth of home was missing.

Mr. Ge glanced about and said to Qingyuan, “There are often carriages here bound for Yuanjing City. With so few of us, we can join a caravan. Four people would cost about two taels of silver.”

Qingyuan nodded. “I have some spare money, with nowhere to spend it.”

Mr. Ge gave him a long look but did not refuse.

The group proceeded onward.

The mountain fiend, cloaked in black, drew occasional glances due to its arms hanging below its knees, the sleeves extended to conceal them.

Having traveled nearly a day on little more than dried rations and water, they now wanted to sample Licheng’s famed cuisine before seeking passage to Yuanjing City.

Of course, they would likely spend the night in an inn or tavern.

As they made their way along the street, Mr. Ge’s eyes suddenly halted on a roadside stall, his expression one of great surprise.

Following his gaze, Qingyuan saw an old man, about sixty, in grey attire, sitting beside the stall. His hair was streaked with white and he seemed drowsy, unremarkable for his age.

Behind him stood two grey banners, each inscribed with words in ordinary script but carrying a peculiar aura.

The left banner read: “Witness the changing of seas and mulberry fields, behold the shifting of Heaven’s will.”

The right banner read: “Foretell fortune and misfortune, understand the rise and fall of the mortal world.”

“How grandiose,” thought Qingyuan. “I’ve seen many such street fortune-tellers, masters of trickery and arithmetic, some spouting arcane phrases, others simply advertising ‘Fortune Telling,’ but claiming to divine both Heaven and humanity—this is a first. Even a true immortal would find such a boast hard to match.”

Mr. Ge’s expression shifted with surprise.

Qingyuan was puzzled. Mr. Ge was a worldly, thoughtful man, not easily duped—why, then, such interest in this fortune-teller? Perhaps… they were old acquaintances?

“About that fortune-teller…” Mr. Ge hesitated, then said, “I once heard of him—he’s known as ‘Half-Immortal Xiang.’”

“Half-Immortal?” Qingyuan was startled.

Generally, those who reach the Ninth Heaven in cultivation, nearing the realm of immortality, are called ‘Half-Immortals’ or ‘Human Immortals’—a title of great weight among cultivators.

But among practitioners of the occult, titles mean little. They might call themselves not just half-immortal, but true immortals or even resurrected sages.

With that thought, Qingyuan let it go.

“I once heard a tale about him,” Mr. Ge continued, shaking his head at Qingyuan’s expression. “A poor man lived near a wealthy, but unrighteous and arrogant family, who wasted food and bullied the poor. One day, the poor man met a fortune-teller and asked when the wicked family would fall from grace.”

Little Yu, intrigued, piped up, “And then what?”

Mr. Ge smiled. “The fortune-teller told him, ‘When the carp climbs the stairs.’”

Qingyuan’s eyes narrowed. “‘When the carp climbs the stairs?’”

Little Yu was puzzled. The mountain fiend, only half-understanding, nonetheless thought the fortune-teller impressive.

Qingyuan asked, “And did it come true?”

Mr. Ge nodded gravely. “Later, a cat carried a carp up to the rich family’s attic. Some say the carp was grilled, still smoldering with embers, which set the house alight. Others say the cat, carrying the fish, knocked over an oil lamp. Regardless, the cat brought the cooked carp upstairs, a fire started, and the mansion burned to the ground. The family was ruined and fell into poverty.”

“Was it really that prescient?” Qingyuan wondered silently. “Physiognomy and fortune-telling are not mere nonsense, but in these turbulent times, when even immortals struggle to pierce the veils of fate, could he truly divine the will of Heaven and the lives of men?”

Ge Yu’er exclaimed in wonder, then asked, “Grandfather, do you know that old gentleman? Should we go greet him?”

Mr. Ge thought for a moment, then smiled and shook his head. “Let’s not.”

They moved on, curiosity lingering, glancing back at the fortune-teller.

At that moment, another man approached the stall, left a few coins, and asked for a reading.

“Sir, those people have wronged me terribly, yet nothing bad has happened to them. Why is there no retribution?” the man asked, bitterness in his voice, his clothes threadbare.

The fortune-teller replied, “Retribution always comes.”

“When will it come?” pressed the man.

The old man stroked his beard and smiled, “When the carp climbs the stairs.”

Qingyuan and his companions exchanged glances.

“Well…” Mr. Ge gave a wry smile.

All his life, Mr. Ge had regarded this man as a figure of mystery, remembering him over the years with a measure of awe. Now, he could only shake his head in silence.

Qingyuan, too, was left speechless. After a long pause, he glanced at the mountain fiend and thought, “Here I am, a cultivator, traveling with a mountain spirit, and even we are taken in by a street magician.”

They had nothing more to say. After a moment, each shook their head and continued on.

Just then, the man who had consulted the fortune-teller departed.

The old fortune-teller turned his eyes to Qingyuan and his group.

“You there, young man—stay a moment, and hear what I have to say.”