A Prophet - Chapter 28

The Net of Heaven has large meshes, yet nothing slips through

Several doctors bustled about, and the Seventh Chief slowly regained consciousness.

A doctor shouted angrily, "When visiting a patient, do not let them get overly excited. Don't you understand?"

The person who claimed to be Huang Farong's daughter nodded slightly with a delicate chin: "Sorry, sorry."

After the doctor left, the woman sat between my bed and the Seventh Chief's bed, smiling with an eerie expression: "How is it, you two chiefs? Have you been living well all these years?"

"If you continue spouting nonsense, I really am going to call the police!" I roared.

She blinked, completely unfazed, and pulled a large mobile phone out of her pocket: "Do you want to use my phone? In China it's 110, in America it's 911."

The Seventh Chief blankly looked at me, and my brain raced: If they do not fear death, why use death to threaten them? She simply wasn't afraid at all!

The woman sneered again: "For old chiefs like you, is there anything more important than seeing Grand Master one last time before you die? You can call the police, but you will never get any more news about Grand Master. If you obediently cooperate, I guarantee that you will be able to see Grand Master again in your lifetime!"

The woman spoke with utter confidence, sending chills running through the Seventh Chief and me wave after wave.

"Who on earth are you?" I asked her.

She remained all smiles: "You'd better hurry up and nurse these half-dead bodies of yours back to health, and then come with me to Guangzhou."

"Why?"

"Come on, give me a smile." Instead of answering me, she pulled a camera straight out of her pocket, and before we could even react, click, she pressed the shutter.

"What are you doing?"

"Remember, take good care of your health, and don't die! If you die, you won't get to see Grand Master!"

With that, she turned around and left.

The Seventh Chief and I lay against the head of the bed, staring at each other in blank astonishment, having no idea what kind of sacred being this person was to understand the inner workings of the Jiangxiang Faction in such detail, or what she was plotting by taking our photo.

We racked our brains, meticulously sorting through the past rivers and lakes, from the 1930s to the 1990s, generation after generation of con artists, generation after generation of swindlers, generation after generation of grievances. Even after two entire IV bags of saline ran dry, we still couldn't guess this woman's identity.

Grand Master used to say that a powerful opponent is not terrifying. The reason they are powerful is because you understand their power—their might and reality, their viciousness and trickery are all laid bare before you, giving you countermeasures. What is truly terrifying are those opponents whose backgrounds you do not know. They are in the dark while you are in the light; you know nothing of their strength and past, just like a traveler encountering a pool of dead water, unaware of its depth or how many coiled dragons lie beneath the surface.

We were already in our seventies and eighties, our mental and physical faculties severely degraded. We no longer had the energy to scheme, ponder, and lay out plans day and night like we did in our youth. Old Qi had a severe heart disease, and my bladder wasn't doing well either—I couldn't hold my urine once night fell. Finally, I let out a long sigh: "Old Qi, let's stop guessing. Let's just do whatever we're told!"

"Not calling the police?"

"Don't you want to see Grand Master?"

Old Qi smiled helplessly: "Who knows if what this swindler said is true? What if she's trying to scam us? If we go to Guangzhou, who knows what kind of misfortune awaits us!"

I got up and patted his shoulder: "Rest assured, your debts have already been paid." I knew that the ordeal Zhou Yulang had put him through last time had left him with lingering ailments.

"Jiangxiang con artists fear neither death in life nor life in death. We cross ten thousand rivers and mountains all over again, settling a lifetime of grievances in a single lifetime. If I can see Grand Master again in my lifetime, staking this old life of mine is worth it!" I said loudly, "If you're scared, I'll go by myself!"

Provoked by my words, Old Qi instantly recovered his true con artist character: "Fifth Brother, am I a coward? Just as long as my family isn't implicated."

"They won't be implicated. She's targeting us two old codgers, it has nothing to do with our families. Otherwise, if she pushes us too far, we'll definitely call the police. Do you really think she's not afraid of us calling the police?"

"Mm-hmm." The Seventh Chief nodded repeatedly, smiling as he said, "Fifth Brother truly hasn't lost his edge; your analysis makes sense!"

Two weeks later, we received an anonymous letter with train tickets tucked inside. The Seventh Chief and I lied to our families, saying we had just recovered from a major illness and were going out for a few days of leisure. Seeing that the two of us were traveling together, our families didn't try to stop us.

Stepping onto the train heading south, my emotions rose and fell. I remembered the first time I rode a train with Grand Master back then; half a century had passed, yet the past events remained as vivid as yesterday. This was perhaps the final chapter of grievances for the Jiangxiang Faction, and once this trip was over, the Jiangxiang Faction would completely vanish like smoke in the wind.

Along the way, the train successively passed through various provinces. Gazing out the window at the fields, forests, and hills, Old Qi and I experienced surging emotions in our hearts. We had visited all these places once upon a time, following Grand Master across the length and breadth of the country, crossing mountains when meeting mountains and rivers when meeting rivers. Almost every inch of land bore our footprints. Back then, there was a large group of brothers; back then, friends and enemies filled the world; back then, we were full of youthful vigor; back then, our heroic spirit reached the clouds. In those days when we disregarded life and death, we were intoxicated and joyous. Now, the dream had ended in disillusionment, the old faces were gone, and the newcomers were eager to step up. We, these undead old men, had to push forward and untangle this very last knot of the Jiangxiang Faction.

"Old Qi, are you scared?" I asked the Seventh Chief.

The Seventh Chief smiled wearily: "Have there been few things in our lives that gave us a fright?"

"That was a question Grand Master asked me back then. When I accompanied Grand Master to Xichuan, he asked me if I was scared. I said no, and Grand Master just smiled."

"Fifth Brother, to be honest, back then I sort of looked down on you. You didn't fit the profile of a con artist at all. But after all these years, I feel that Grand Master made the right choice in taking you in."

"There is no right or wrong, only fate."

Two days later, we arrived at the Guangzhou Railway Station.

As soon as we got off the train, several people ran up to welcome us.

I recognized them as the minor con artists who had disguised themselves as monks to pull scams near the People's Park area a while ago—the very disciples of the person claiming to be Huang Farong's daughter.

They drove a Santana and brought us straight to a residential compound. After entering the apartment, one of the con artists smiled and said, "The two Grand Master Seniors should rest for a moment. There is water and food here; do not wander around."

With that, the four of them left. The security door banged shut, followed by the sound of a lock clicking into place.

The Seventh Chief and I instantly felt a sense of foreboding. We rushed over and pulled on the door: it had already been locked!

Sweat began to bead on the Seventh Chief's forehead: "They aren't going to bump us off here, are they?"

"If fortune smiles, it's no disaster; if disaster strikes, there's no escaping it." Instead, I grew calm: "Since we're here, we might as well make ourselves at home. Old Qi, let's eat instant noodles and drink tea!"

Old Qi was still somewhat anxious and uneasy: "Old Wu, I really couldn't tell back then that you had such a big胆 (boldness). If times hadn't changed, I reckon you could completely take over Grand Master's banner and lead the Jiangxiang Faction forward!"

"Ha-ha-ha-ha." I chuckled, "What boldness or lack thereof? We're both getting on in years. When we fall asleep tonight, who knows if we'll wake up tomorrow? I've been cautious my whole life, but this time, for Grand Master's sake, I'm afraid of nothing."

The Seventh Chief looked out the window and let out a long sigh: "Fifth Brother is right. What is there to be afraid of? At our age, refusing to die makes one a scoundrel. I refuse to believe that the two of us old turtle-doves can't outfight these shrimp soldiers and crab generals!"

A fierce light flashed in my eyes: "Now that's the Seventh Chief of the Jiangxiang Faction!"

Toward evening, the door opened, and a con artist delivered two newspapers: "The two Grand Master Seniors, take your time reading. Grand Master will appear shortly!"

After saying that, he locked the door and cleared off.

This was a local daily newspaper, and the literary section contained an article titled: The Jiangxiang Faction of Yesteryear, Reunited Today. To the left of the article was attached the photo that female thief had taken of us at the hospital that day.

"Ha." The Seventh Chief and I exchanged a smile, fully understanding: "Still the same old tactic—building up momentum to flush the snake out of its hole. If Grand Master really is alive, this is meant for him to see."

Over the next few days, this section published article after article, while the minor con artists kept taking our pictures. These photos gradually appeared in the newspapers.

Until the seventh day, the person claiming to be Huang Farong's daughter finally showed herself.

"Two seniors, shall we go?"

"Where to?"

"Hong Kong."

"Huh?"

"The permits have already been processed, we're crossing the border tonight."

We had no idea what she was up to, but deep down we felt that something major was about to happen. No choice, we just had to follow. For the first time in my life, I arrived in Hong Kong.

Hong Kong in 1998 was still much more majestic and prosperous than the mainland, but I had no heart to linger on its modern atmosphere; my mind was entirely filled with Grand Master's shadow.

Near the footbridge on Ching Fung Street in Causeway Bay, we turned into an alley.

A minor con artist said cheerfully, "Two seniors, have you ever seen Young and Dangerous? Chan Ho-nan, the boss of Causeway Bay, rules this turf!"

I glanced dismissively: "My son has seen it."

Old Qi also smiled: "My daughter watches it all the time too."

The minor con artist blushed: "Ginger gets hotter the older it gets; I can't even win an argument against you two!"

At that moment, a sudden flash of inspiration hit me, and I shouted, "Aihua, where are we going?"

None of them responded, so I shouted again, "Aihua!"

The person claiming to be Huang Farong's daughter finally reacted: "Uh... you'll know when we get there!"

I laughed wildly in my heart: You are not Huang Farong's daughter at all! Who takes that long to react when hearing their own name? Hu Aizhong and Hu Aihua were the names of Huang Farong's two daughters. She claimed to be Huang Farong's younger daughter, yet only reacted after I called out the name twice in succession—she was a complete fraud! But this fraud was no ordinary person; she knew almost all the secrets of the Jiangxiang Faction and was dead set on forcing Grand Master out. Although her ultimate goal was still unclear, the heavy conspiracies and cold murderous intent were already completely exposed.

The smug expression on my face didn't escape her eyes. She suddenly stopped in her tracks: "Things have come to this, so there's no harm in telling you: my real name is Qin Fu, 'Fu' as in revenge!"

"Whose revenge is Miss Qin seeking?" I asked.

"Shangguan Chengming, and all of you accomplices who help a tyrant abuse his power!"

"What grudge do you bear against Grand Master?"

"They always say old people are long-winded, and you certainly live up to it. When you meet that even older old scoundrel later and cross the netherworld together, you'll understand!"

I was startled. At that moment, two minor con artists had already pressed hard objects against the lower backs of Old Qi and me. "Can you feel it?"

Old Qi and I nodded slightly.

"These are guns. Be obedient and walk with us. If you keep babbling and annoy young master here, a gun might go off and hit a Grand Master Senior, and we'd feel so bad," the minor con artist said viciously.

Qin Fu sneered and chimed in, "Blame yourselves for living too long. If you had kicked the bucket early like the other chiefs, you wouldn't have to be hostages today! You'd better pray that that old bastard comes out as promised today; otherwise, this time next year will be your anniversary!"

The Seventh Chief and I instantly understood: they had tricked us into coming to Hong Kong as hostages to flush Grand Master out.

At that moment, I felt both terrified and excited. I was terrified because I didn't know whether I'd live or die today, and excited because Grand Master really was still alive?

We crossed the alley and arrived at a residential area.

Entering the stairwell, we stepped into a dilapidated elevator, which stopped on the 8th floor.

My heart hammered wildly—not from fear, but from excitement.

Stepping out of the elevator and turning right, we stopped in front of room number 818. The con artists racked the slides of their guns, pushing rounds into the chambers, and flattened themselves against both sides of the door.

Qin Fu pressed her gun against our backs, gave us a poke, and said, "Open the door!"

I gave it a push; the door wasn't locked and creaked open.

The con artists beside us swiftly flashed into the room and checked every corner: "Nobody!"

Trembling with fear, Old Qi and I walked inside. As soon as we entered, we saw a Buddhist shrine set up in the living room, flanked by a couplet.

Top line: A lifetime of fame and achievements reduced to dust and dirt.

Bottom line: Half a wisp of clear breeze behind half a folding screen.

Horizontal scroll: Turn back and find salvation.

My heart leaped into my throat; this was unmistakably Grand Master's handwriting, possessing the unyielding bones of the Liu style. Tears instantly gushed from my eyes.

Qin Fu scanned her surroundings vigilantly: "Old man, come out!"

No one answered from inside the room. It was deathly quiet, save for the sound of everyone's breathing.

Suddenly, Qin Fu jammed her gun against the back of my head: "If you don't come out, I'll blow his brains out!"

Still no reply.

Qin Fu smiled: "What? Is Grand Master scared? Since you invited us here, why don't you dare show your face? You've been hiding for decades; you might not be tired of hiding, but I'm tired of searching! Come out! Old scoundrel, come out!"

Listening to Qin Fu's repeated shouts, my heart leaped to my throat. I vigilantly looked around and suddenly mustered my courage to yell, "Grand Master! If you really are alive, whatever you do, don't come out! They have guns!"

The Seventh Chief also shouted at the top of his lungs, "Grand Master, don't come out! They have guns!"

Driven mad with anger, Qin Fu kicked me flying to the floor and aimed her gun right at me: "How touching! Since you're not afraid of death, I'll grant your wish!"

I closed my eyes, waiting for the sound of the gunshot.

Suddenly, a series of rumbling sounds echoed, as if something was rolling in from outside the door, followed by a burst of thick smoke. The pungent odor stung our eyes so badly we couldn't keep them open—it was a tear gas canister!

Out of the instinct for self-preservation, I grabbed the Seventh Chief, and both of us hugged our heads and dropped flat onto the floor.

"Police! Police!" A commotion erupted outside the door, and a team of people rushed in, followed by a few crisp gunshots. Old Qi and I tightly hugged our heads, not daring to move.

As the smoke cleared, Old Qi and I slowly crawled up from the floor to see Qin Fu and several of the other chiefs lying on the ground with gunshot wounds.

The Hong Kong police called for medical personnel downstairs, and several of them were carried away on stretchers.

A police officer patted Old Qi and me on the shoulders and said, "Hong Kong Police, you're safe now! Please follow me back to the station to give a statement."

I dazedly raised my head: "How did you guys know?"

The policeman was baffled too: "Weren't you two the ones who called the police?"

Old Qi and I exchanged a knowing smile, perfectly in tune: "Right! Right! We called!"

"Can I stay in this room a little longer?" I asked.

"Why?" The policeman was puzzled.

"I... I'm so old, I got so scared just now I nearly pissed and shat myself, my heart is still pounding, and my blood pressure is high. I want to rest for a bit."

"Fine." He instructed two other officers to guard the doorway and went downstairs.

Old Qi and I slowly examined everything in the room—the couplet, the inkstone, the vase, the bedding, the incense burner. The arrangement of every single item was identical to how it had been back in Grand Master's guild hall.

I didn't know whether Grand Master was truly still alive, or if this was just a memorial crafted by someone connected to him to honor his memory. Regardless, my thoughts instantly drifted back to the past.

I stroked the couplet on the wall, tears rolling down uncontrollably. Grand Master, if you're still around, come out and see your brothers!

I could only shout it in my heart, crying it out over and over again...

Two weeks later, Old Qi and I were repatriated to the mainland.

Mainland police questioned us several times, and we truthfully explained the situation.

When everything finally came to light, we finally understood all the old grudges and grievances wrapped up inside.

Qin Fu was the granddaughter of Qin Baichuan, the former leader of the Western Faction. When Qin Baichuan was set up and killed by Grand Master, she hadn't even been born yet. After Qin Baichuan's son, Qin Dabao, managed to escape, he was imprisoned in 1952 during the government's campaign to crack down on "reactionary secret societies."

Qin Dabao spent eight years behind bars. After getting out, he never forgot this blood feud, and the scene of his father being blown to pieces by artillery fire constantly haunted his mind.

Later, he secretly lurked around Jianghuai, inquiring everywhere for information about Grand Master. When he learned that Grand Master had long since been executed by firing squad, he was consumed by hatred that he could no longer exact revenge with his own hands. At that moment, a female Western Faction con artist who had been co-opted by Grand Master back in the day tracked him down and told him that Grand Master might not actually be dead. Given Grand Master's lifelong habit of always leaving an escape route for himself, nobody believed he would just die like that.

Qin Dabao married this woman, and they had a daughter—none other than Qin Fu.

The family went back to committing roving crimes, swindling, and scamming. Then the Cultural Revolution broke out, and Zeng Jingwu—the person who handled Grand Master's case back then—was denounced and reported for swapping the real prisoner to privately release a death-row inmate. This only further solidified the family's belief that Grand Master was still alive.

For all these years, this family secretly tracked and monitored us surviving old chiefs, trying to dig up clues regarding Grand Master. But we chiefs had no idea there were so many hidden stories behind it all; other than discovering us visiting Grand Master's grave every Qingming Festival to pay our respects, they found zero clues.

So they began committing crimes everywhere, strutting about under the banner of the Jiangxiang Faction in an attempt to flush Grand Master out. Yet Grand Master remained utterly without a trace. As time wore on, they repeatedly doubted whether Grand Master might actually be dead after all!

Right at the moment when the whole family was about to give up on their revenge, Huang Farong, who was in America, fell terminally ill. Knowing her days were numbered, Huang Farong still felt a lingering sense of guilt toward her former husband, the Fourth Chief Zhang Zizhan. She didn't want Zhang Zizhan to be kept in the dark for his entire life. After much deliberation, she sent her younger daughter, Hu Aihua, to the mainland to secretly meet the Fourth Chief and recount the past events one by one.

All of these matters were thoroughly grasped by Qin Dabao and Qin Fu. The most critical part was that, prior to returning to America in accordance with Huang Farong's dying wishes, Hu Aihua had taken a trip to Hong Kong—and the reasons behind that remained unknown to anyone.

"Even Huang Farong, who has been dead for so long, came back to life? Grand Master that old scoundrel must still be alive!" The family grew desperate. On the one hand, riding the wave of the reform and opening up, they openly promoted fortune-telling and physiognomy to gather followers; on the other hand, they secretly monitored us old chiefs while dispatching a massive number of con artists to gather intelligence in both Hong Kong and Guangzhou.

In 1998, the Fourth Chief passed away. They felt they could no longer wait. If they waited any longer, everyone from the Jiangxiang Faction would be dead, and there would be no more leverage left to exploit.

Qin Fu reasoned that if Grand Master wasn't dead, he was bound to be hiding in Hong Kong. By capturing Grand Master's former sworn brothers and making a massive fuss in the newspapers, there was no way he wouldn't show his face! Having lost her mind, Qin Fu decided to take a desperate gamble, impersonating Hu Aihua to approach me. After gaining my trust, she lured the Seventh Chief and me to Guangzhou.

Actually, until that very moment, Qin Fu still had no idea whether Grand Master was dead or alive.

Unexpectedly, while Qin Fu was making a stir in Hong Kong, someone truly contacted her, asking her to come to Hong Kong to settle old scores once and for all.

Overjoyed, Qin Fu immediately brought us to the designated location to exact her revenge. That led to the Causeway Bay shootout and the capture of Qin Fu.

Since the reform and opening up, the largest superstitious fraud syndicate was brought to justice, and fugitives wanted by the Ministry of Public Security for over a decade were all rounded up. The grievances of the Jiangxiang Faction thus came to an end.

The year 1999 quickly passed as well, and the new century began.

I still brewed a pot of tea in the evenings, watching my grandsons and great-grandsons run around, and could only smile happily.

I never got to see Grand Master, and I still didn't know whether he was dead or alive, nor whether the person who called the Hong Kong police back then was him. But none of that mattered anymore. Grand Master, acting as a symbol dominating the entire 20th century, had completed his historical mission. As a collective, after 300 years of tumultuous vicissitudes, the Jiangxiang Faction had likewise completed its own redemption. In the world of the future, there would still be fortune-telling, there would still be scams, and there would still be all sorts of personal grievances and romantic entanglements, but those were no longer things for us to worry about. Every generation has its own mission; we did what we had to do, and future generations will possess even greater wisdom to handle the affairs of the future.

That I refuse to die and linger on in this world is perhaps Heaven's way of letting me witness the illusory, dreamlike essence of human fate.

I recounted these past rivers and lakes to my grand-nephew (the author of this text). He listened attentively and intended to use heavy brushstrokes to bring this past history into the literary world. I am in full agreement, with only one request for him: do not deify us; be authentic, and reflect this history in its true, unadulterated flavor.

Fearing he lacked the capability to handle such a massive subject, he read every section to me after writing it. When past events are turned into a novel, there are bound to be some discrepancies, but Grand Master's very soul and spirit were outlined by him with a stroke that pierces the paper. Having that alone is more than enough.

In the end, he composed a long poem and read it to me, gathering a century of grievances under the tip of his brush to serve as the conclusion of the entire text. Both grandfather and grandson were in full agreement.

Ode to the Jiangxiang Faction

The Kangxi and Qianlong reigns established the Hongmen,

The Jiangxiang sect first emerged, returning from all four seas.

Absorbing the Yin and Yang breath of the mundane world,

Wielding the might of the Five Elements across the Six Paths.

The Dragon Cloud ambition to overthrow the Qing and restore the Ming,

A gathering of winds and clouds to act on behalf of Heaven.

The hundred schools assembled to join the military and horses,

The warhorses whinnied as ten thousand men fell in slaughter.

The con artists once again flaunted their flying-roll scams,

The Yingyao text spread south, a single blossoming flower.

The single lotus chant brought the beauty of nobility,

While the four embroidered screens fell across the realm.

The realm's arts of divination were chaotic as hemp,

The Jiangxiang alone commanded an era of splendor.

Observing winds, objects, and sounds,

An inch of Yin and Yang governed a single Trigram.

Affairs of wealth, rank, poverty, and romance,

The fates of destitution, early death, and longevity examined by gods and ghosts.

Unavenged deaths and unfulfilled passions left behind,

Planting peach blossoms upon the Bridge of Helplessness.

Ministers of the court and merchants turned their pillars of support,

Rouge and powder saw thieves ruling the house.

The sky is high, the earth remote, ten thousand pieces of gold concealed,

Clear waters and green mountains reveal the loyal and upright.

The nine heavens resound with bronze bells,

The netherworld yellow springs cast the six lines of the Hexagrams.

Always and everywhere acting within the schemes,

Everywhere and always scheming minds are born.

Sleeves containing the cosmos toy with the sun and moon,

The guts of outlaws fight the starving wolves.

The three teachings and nine streams formed a single thread,

Talented scholars and beauties exhausted their thoughts.

Divining the heavens and earth, the fortunes of life and death,

Their imposing majesty crushed the stripping-and-swindling gangs.

In life they established the vows of the Five Ancestors,

Caring naught if the waves towered to the heavens after death.

Drunkenly finding fleeting joy within the universe,

Father Heaven and Mother Earth nestled in their hearts.

Master Fang Huacheng carried forth the military and horses,

While the imperial court's eight prefectures investigated with care.

Xuanye carried a scroll of the Diamond Sutra,

Huacheng's Chan thoughts comprehended this present life.

Half a lifetime of fame reduced to dust and dirt,

Two sleeves of clear breeze accompanied by a solitary lamp.

From then on there was no ambition to restore the Ming,

The Jiangxiang raised its blade against all living beings.

Generations, years, and battles through the ages,

Good and evil intertwined, stumbling forward.

Kan, Li, Zhen, Dui—the four great guild halls,

How many heroes, how many claimed hegemony?

A suit of tattered cloth, a suit of grievances,

When will grievances repaid with grievances ever cease?

Piles of gold and silver matched the heights of heaven,

Heaps of white bones gleamed blindingly in the light.

The White Tiger wept tears as it howled at the sky,

The Heavenly Wolf trembled so that its horses could not advance.

Stirring passions like water until the water was entirely dyed,

Murky waves rippled gently as tears flowed in a continuous stream.

If the Five Ancestors underground should possess awareness,

How could such sorrowful and bitter pain be spoken of?

The autumn of the twenty-eighth year of Guangxu,

A great master emerged from the Shangguan lineage.

Originally a family living in leisurely ease,

Unprovoked disaster struck right over their heads.

Scholars and swordsmen were originally fated to be apart,

Shedding their mortal shells to become giant pillars.

From then on they slashed horizontally and laughed at the sky,

Iron-plate divination experts holding paper fans.

Venturing in and out of the classics and the hundred schools of thought,

Dominating the Yin and Yang with an iron abacus.

Three hundred disciples spanning the Republic of China,

A thousand beauties drifting away like clouds and mist.

The mountains and rivers folded together, beautiful as a painting,

The passing years swift and ruthless as a blade.

No more laughter of flying swallows within the paintings,

Heartbroken under the blades, acting as pleased and free as one likes.

Walking the world looking like neither human nor ghost,

Compassion was born from the unification of the Jiangxiang.

A world of panic, endless debts,

A thousand years of blood and tears boiled in a single bowl.

Today having fulfilled one's towering ambitions,

Why fear exchanging death for a new life?

The Yin and Yang pointing out the delusions of worldly matters,

Right and wrong, success and failure, all turn to nothingness.

Seeing through and letting go is still something one can do,

The cycle of wind and moon serves merely as bridal attire for others.

Concluding the affairs before and after life,

A wisp of incense swirling in the lotus pond.

My life is finite, knowing my fate is humble,

Teahouses and wine shops filled with hesitation and wandering.

Fortunately receiving Grand Master's sudden enlightenment seal,

The proper path among humanity is the vicissitudes of the world.

Entrusting the rebirth of the orphan with thoughts of life and death,

Fifty springs and autumns measured by the rule of the yardstick.

A hundred-year dream of fame burned to ashes,

A single crow of the rooster and the world grows bright.

No longer is there a Jiangxiang Faction among mankind,

And the iron-plate divination has become an untransmitted legacy!

(The End of the Book)