A Prophet - Chapter 7 (Part 1)

Chapter 1 - Moving the Branch Back to Jianghuai

Jiang Feiyan did not win the affection of Grandfather. She left, departing with Major General Feng, and from that moment on said her farewells to the "River and Lake Sect", to Grandfather, and to her own sins. This seemed to remind people of a simple truth: finding someone who loves you is far easier than finding someone you love.

The "Crossing Begonia" faction was now brought under Grandfather's command. Grandfather had finally fulfilled his grand vow to unite the underworld. I expected Grandfather to be overjoyed, yet he did not display a shred of happiness. The "River and Lake Sect" was unified, but what came next? Where were they headed?

On October 1, 1949, the New China was born. It solemnly declared to the entire world: The Central People's Government of the People's Republic of China is established today!

At that moment, Chiang Kai-shek was busy as well, occupied with hollowing out the national treasury of its gold and silver and shipping every last ounce of it to Taiwan.

When New China was founded, places like Guangdong, Guangxi, Sichuan, and Chongqing had not yet been liberated. The foot soldiers of the "Wood and Catalpa Lotus" and the "Crossing Begonia" factions were spinning around in anxious circles, clueless about what their fate would be. A few of the bound-foot members could no longer contain themselves and began slipping away, attempting to smuggle themselves into Hong Kong. Grandfather caught them and had them executed, and after that, not a single person dared to run again.

Barely a few days passed before the Liberation Army struck. The remnant Nationalist forces proved utterly incapable of putting up a fight, and in less than half a month, Guangzhou was liberated. Ordinary people poured onto the streets to set off firecrackers in celebration of the liberation.

Grandfather issued an order: Temporarily scatter and lie low to observe which way the wind blows.

In an instant, over a hundred people dissolved into individuals and vanished into obscurity. The second branch leader of the Sichuan sub-branch received his orders and went into hiding as well.

Shortly after, Grandfather made a decision: "Datou, accompany me out for a walk."

I asked Grandfather, "Where are we going?"

Grandfather replied, "All across the country."

Grandfather did everything with a purpose. He did not explain his reasons, and I did not press him with questions.

Thus, Grandfather and I set out from Guangzhou, heading north all the way. We passed through Jiangxi, crossed the border between Hubei and Anhui into Henan, moved on to Shaanxi and Shanxi, and finally entered Hebei and Beijing.

Along the way, the scenes before our eyes revealed an entirely different world. The common folk were radiant with joy, every single one of them beaming, which made me realize that the liberated areas were nothing like the terrifying monster depicted in Nationalist propaganda. Only when Grandfather personally brought me to these places that had been liberated ahead of time did I truly experience what liberation meant. Especially upon reaching the revolutionary base in northern Shaanxi, where the locals enthusiastically performed the Ansai waist drum dance and loudly sang "The East Is Red, the Sun Rises," that warmth and those smiling faces were entirely genuine and sprang straight from the heart.

Grandfather sighed with emotion: "Ever since the late Qing dynasty, foreign powers have invaded, our territory has been carved up, warlords have fought for dominance, and war has never ceased. For nearly a century, when have the common people ever been this happy!"

I understood nothing of history, let alone how to deeply appreciate the sentiment behind Grandfather's words. I only knew that I had been born into an era of utter chaos, that I knew what "No Chinese and dogs allowed" meant, and that I was intimately familiar with hunger, cold, and perpetual anxiety!

After drifting outside for a month, Grandfather and I returned to Guangzhou.

That night, Grandfather once again sank into deep contemplation. I had no idea what was running through his mind. Was he pondering the path ahead? Or was he looking back upon the vicissitudes of the past?

Just like that, 1949 drew to a close, and the year 1950 arrived. A major event occurred that year: the outbreak of the Korean War. The fighting in the Korean War was exceptionally bitter, and because New China had not been established long, strategic supplies were in extreme shortage. The remnant Nationalist forces blockaded the maritime routes in a vain attempt to cut off the material aid sent by patriotic figures in Hong Kong to the mainland.

Certain figures from the criminal underworld tried to nudge Grandfather, telling him that as long as he cooperated with the Nationalists, closely monitored the customs ports, passed along intelligence the moment it arrived, and helped the Nationalists sever the communist supply lines, he could rake in vast piles of silver. Grandfather refused. He said, "I have no need for that kind of silver."

Right in the midst of this internal trouble and external threat, Grandfather made a shocking decision: to move the branch headquarters back to Jianghuai!

None of the branch leaders could make sense of it: "Why go back? This place borders Hong Kong; if things take a turn for the worse, we can still make a run for it. If we must move, we should head to the southwestern border so we can escape into Burma." Heading deep into the interior interior meant cutting off our own retreat, didn't it?

When Grandfather made a decision, you could doubt it, and you could even oppose it, but opposition was useless—things would proceed exactly as he decreed anyway. Even those several dozen people from Sichuan were hauled over.

This was the largest migration in the history of the "River and Lake Sect". Nearly two hundred people, broken down into individuals, arrived in Jianghuai one after another. Prior to the migration, Grandfather had executed the fifth branch leader. At the same time, I was promoted to fifth branch leader, and a year later, Grandfather executed the sixth branch leader, "Little Shi Qian". Zhao Dinghai, known as "Little Haizi" who had been previously recommended by the second branch leader, was made the new sixth branch leader.

My contributions to the branch headquarters were negligible, but no one voiced any objections when I was promoted. Grandfather had stated: "When the scam was run in Sichuan, Datou stepped forward to take a bullet for me." In truth, I had given it no thought at all at the time; when I saw them moving to grab Grandfather, I simply rushed forward. Yet Grandfather remarked: "Only instinct is entirely true."

At that time, apart from the "River and Lake Sect" syndicate of swindlers, numerous large and small "secret religious sects" still existed across the country, continuing their scams and stirring up trouble.

By all logic, Grandfather should have acted with extreme caution during this period, but instead he did the exact opposite, ordering the various branch leaders and foot soldiers to strike out frequently. At the same time, Grandfather made high-profile public appearances, fraternizing with the leaders of the various secret sects as sworn brothers—behavior that completely defied his usual style of operation.

The branch leaders took one look and concluded that Grandfather was locking horns directly with the government. One day, Grandfather summoned Wang Jiaxian and me to the branch hall and informed us that there was a scam to be run, assigning the two of us to execute it. By all rights, this was no small scam, and since Wang Jiaxian and I were essentially novices among the branch leaders with very little experience, Grandfather could easily have assigned the second branch leader and the others to handle it. Yet he deliberately chose the seventh branch leader and me.

It was the same old rule: you could doubt Grandfather's orders, but you could not defy them. Later on, after I ended up thrown into a prison cell, I realized that Grandfather had done this on purpose. Because Wang Jiaxian and I had entered the trade later and had never pulled off any major scams, Grandfather needed to saddle us with sufficient crimes to land us in prison.

Thirty li away in a neighboring town lived a wealthy landowner named Li who dealt in grain and oil. Before the Nationalists retreated to Taiwan, this wealthy family had maintained close ties with them, hoarding goods during those years and raking in a fortune. This landowner was named Li Zuoshan. In his sixties, he had suffered from alopecia so severe that all the hair on his crown had long since vanished, earning him the nickname "Baldy Li." Baldy Li had four sons. Because his eldest son possessed a protruding belly, he was nicknamed "Big Belly." His second son suffered from poor hearing, earning the nickname "Second Deaf." His third son was excessively cunning and sharp-witted, known to everyone as "Three Wits." His fourth son had a habit of stealing sesame oil to drink when he was little, which ruined his digestive tract and left him constantly rushing to the outhouse, earning him the moniker "Fourth Latrine." This entire household possessed immense wealth and a domineering presence in the local countryside, and no one dared to cross them.

That spring, Baldy Li contracted tuberculosis. He called upon three or four traditional physicians and poured countless bowls of herbal decoction down his throat, but nothing worked. Watching his condition worsen day by day, the four sons began discussing funeral arrangements for the old man.

Wealthy families placed an immense emphasis on geomancy and feng shui for burials, believing that the auspiciousness or inauspiciousness of an ancestor's resting place directly affected whether their descendants would flourish or decline. If the geomancy was ruined, the subsequent generations would swiftly fall into misfortune. Thus, once the local tipstaff nudged them along, the opportunity presented itself.

I had studied under Grandfather: feng shui was divided into two aspects, the feng shui of the living and the feng shui of the dead. The dwellings of the living were called Yang residences, while the dwellings of the dead were called Yin residences. Grandfather had instructed: "This scam will be executed by the fifth and seventh branch leaders. The fifth branch leader will pose as a geomancy master, and the seventh branch leader will play the apprentice."

Because I was stout, had small eyes, and possessed a weathered face, sticking on a fake beard and donning a tall hat allowed me to stretch my apparent age upward by several decades. Wang Jiaxian was the exact opposite: fair-skinned, delicate, and oozing a scholarly aura, he only needed to shave his face to look precisely like a young apprentice.

The practice of observing feng shui placed great emphasis on "seeking the dragon and spotting the lair." The dragon referred to the mountain ranges, while the lair referred to the single most auspicious spot within those ranges. The saying went, "The dragon fears loneliness and the lair fears the cold," which meant that the dragon pulse required mountains and rivers to embrace one another, with surrounding peaks arching in protection. A solitary, barren mountain standing all by itself was a lonely dragon; the lair needed to gather the wind and hoard the moisture, and if it leaked wind or air, it was a cold lair.

On the day of the geomantic survey, all four of Baldy Li's sons were present. We walked around the hillside for a long time. Even though I wasn't all that old and my legs were quite nimble, the seventh branch leader kept supporting me by the arm while carrying a luopan geomantic compass in his hands, which ironically ended up wearing me out.

The seventh branch leader told the four young men, "My master has been in this trade for decades and has never once misjudged a site. Every single piece of feng shui he selects is a blessed ground that gathers wind and hoards water. The descendants of many families who used them have gone on to achieve immense wealth and noble status, and some have even attained high government office."

Big Belly chimed in, "Then we must trouble the Master!"

I held the geomantic compass, gestured with it for a moment, and then asked, "May I ask the four gentlemen whether you desire future generations to have good fortune in wealth or good fortune in official career?"

Fourth Latrine blurted out first, "Wealth, of course wealth! Everything is easier to handle when you have money."

Second Deaf said, "Mm, Number Four is right."

Three Wits curled his lip and sneered, "What do you fellows understand? Being an official is far better! With official power comes wealth; even a local tipstaff pulls in tens of thousands a year. And look at Adjutant Xu, who used to be on good terms with our old man—isn't he just a useless private secretary, yet look how plump he's gotten! Our family just hasn't produced a single official all these years, which is why every time something happens, we have to shell out massive piles of silver to buy our way out of trouble."

Big Belly finally broke his silence: "Argue, argue! All you know how to do is argue!" Then he turned to me and said, "Does the Master mean to say that official fortune and wealth must be kept separate and cannot both be maximized at the same time?"

I thought to myself: I set this hook precisely waiting for you to say that. If I adjusted everything to perfection all at once, it wouldn't show off enough technical skill. I said, "That is difficult."

Big Belly replied, "Master, just do what needs to be done. Money is no object!"

The seventh branch leader interjected, "This isn't a matter of money. My master must perform a ritual, and that will consume a great deal of his vital energy—to put it bluntly, it will shorten his lifespan."

Big Belly pleaded, "We ask the Master to show mercy and, on the premise of not harming your health, try your best to pick a fine plot for the old man so that the four of us brothers can attain both official rank and emolument."

I said, "Feng shui is a long-term matter. It may not necessarily manifest in the four of you brothers; it could just as easily be your sons or grandsons who achieve great wealth and nobility in the future. Since you are in such eager haste, this old man dares not proceed!"

Big Belly said, "Master, please calm your anger. The four of us brothers didn't mean it that way. As long as future generations amount to something and attain wealth and status, that is enough. We don't care if it takes an extra generation or two."

In truth, this was the mysterious trickery of the feng shui art: once you spoke of matters, you spoke in terms of three generations. By the time their sons and grandsons grew up, decades or even a century would have passed—where on earth would they go to hold this feng shui master accountable?

And so, going with the flow, we set up a massive Daoist ritual arena on that hillside and demarcated the burial boundaries for them. Scarcely a few days later, Baldy Li passed away. On the day of the burial, a huge crowd showed up. A swarm of foot soldiers dressed in Daoist robes circled round and round the grave pit, and finally, amidst great pomp and ceremony, Baldy Li was laid to rest. Everyone standing around murmured, "What a wealthy family indeed! Just how much money must this have cost?"

Grandfather's standing directive for all feng shui scams was: "Never choose a riverbed." This meant that no matter how you surveyed the terrain, the burial site must absolutely never be placed in a mountain riverbed, because these were drainage channels. The moment it rained, they formed rushing torrents, and if you selected such a spot, the grave would easily become waterlogged, and you would be in for a world of trouble when the bill came due!

I kept this directive firmly in mind, which was why I had chosen a slightly elevated mound for Baldy Li and told the four sons, "This is called the posture of the soaring dragon and leaping tiger, and later generations are bound to produce high officials!" The four young men grinned from ear to ear. At that moment, I felt that their father's death had brought them joy rather than grief.

There is a saying in this world: "Man's calculations cannot match the calculations of heaven." I had calculated every twist of fate, yet I never expected heaven to play antagonist against me—which perhaps also foreshadowed the ultimate doom of our branch.

Less than two weeks after Baldy Li's burial, early summer arrived. Strangely enough, the rainfall that year was unusually frequent. For half a month straight, it drizzled continuously, sometimes heavy and sometimes light, until it finally triggered a landslide. The high mound where Baldy Li was buried was scoured away by the rain until the coffin lid was exposed. Soon after, a mudslide swept through, washing the gravestone and the coffin far away. Boulders smashed into the coffin, shattering it into pieces. When the four sons climbed the mountain to inspect the site, the coffin boards were scattered everywhere—some here, some there. Only a dozen meters away did they finally find Baldy Li's corpse, buried deep inside the mudslide with a single rotting hand thrust straight out into the open, as if it were trying to say: "The feng shui of this graveyard doesn't seem to be very good!"

An informant quickly carried this news back to Grandfather, adding that the four brothers were coming with the corpse to stir up trouble. When the seventh branch leader and I heard this, we were frightened out of our wits. We hurriedly knelt before Grandfather: "Grandfather, save us!"

We never expected Grandfather to remain extraordinarily calm as he said, "Get up. It hasn't reached that point yet."

The informant reported that those four brothers had connections with Nationalist assassins, and this time around, they would likely demand that one foot soldier be handed over as a life for a life; otherwise, we wouldn't survive this hurdle.

I said, "Grandfather, if one person must be handed over, let it be me. I was the one who led this operation, and the seventh branch leader was merely my assistant. It was my choice that picked the wrong location..."

The seventh branch leader cried out, "No! Grandfather, Fifth Brother made no mistake. Man proposes, heaven disposes; our region hasn't seen a rain this heavy in a hundred years, so this can't be blamed on Fifth Brother. Grandfather, please examine the facts with clear eyes!"

Grandfather did not speak. He simply said, "You two go back and eat your meals first. Do not wander around these past couple of days, and pay no attention to anything else."

We froze in place, wanting to say more, but Grandfather waved a hand. "Go back."

That night, the seventh branch leader and I bought two large jugs of liquor and five catties of braised meat. We figured we should fill our bellies and drink our fill; even if we were to die, we wouldn't become starving ghosts.

Major crises of this sort had occurred in the past as well. To preserve the overall interests of the branch, it was generally necessary to chop off one foot, or perhaps several feet, because everyone else still needed to survive.

We had no idea how Grandfather would choose, and at that moment, it felt as though our lives were clutched entirely in the palm of Grandfather's hand.

For three solid days, we lived in trembling dread. Then word came from Grandfather summoning us to attend a branch meeting. The seventh branch leader put on his favorite long gown and slicked his hair straight back with water. I shaved my beard as well, and before stepping out the door, I kowtowed several times toward my hometown in the direction of my deceased mother, thinking: I failed to show you filial piety in this life; I will repay it in the next.

At the branch meeting, Grandfather stated, "In this failed scam, the responsibility does not lie with the fifth and seventh branch leaders. This was the will of heaven." Not a single trace of expression flickered across Grandfather's face as he spoke.

Later on, the second branch leader told us that to save us, Grandfather had taken a heavy toll on himself, spending a vast amount of money to bribe several bandits and square accounts with a few individuals working as special agents, paying out a massive sum in compensation.

Upon hearing these things, the seventh branch leader and I both wept. The seventh branch leader vowed, "Next time, even if it costs me my life, I will run a grand scam to properly repay Grandfather!"

I said, "Grandfather saved these lives of ours; we could spend a lifetime and still not finish repaying him."

Yet that "next time" the seventh branch leader spoke of never came to pass.