Wu Xin: The Monster Killer

Chapter 40 The Mage's Demeanor

Lord Gu ate a bellyful of cabbage, pork, and rice, wiped his mouth, got up, and went out. He returned in the evening, carrying a small bag of clothes under his arm, his thick eyebrows frosted with age.

A biting wind swept through the west wing as he entered, tossing the small bundle of clothes onto the bed. "It's settled," he said, "a car will come to pick us up tomorrow to go to the Marshal's mansion. Here, the monk's robe you wanted. Check if it fits. If the size is wrong, have Yueya alter it for you!"

Wuxin now only had eating and sleeping to do, so he crawled into bed early. Yueya was standing on the floor wiping the table when she came over, wiping her wet hands with her apron, and untied the bundle to take a look at the new things.

"Wow!" She unfolded a black monk's robe. "This is really good material, heavy and thick, it doesn't even wrinkle without ironing." Then she happily beckoned to Wuxin, "Come and try it on, it's been a while since I've seen you dressed as a monk!"

Unwilling and too lazy to move, curled up in bed with her eyes half-closed, she replied, "No need to try it on, it looks perfect."

Crescent Moon put down the monk's robe and continued rummaging through the bundle: "Oh, there's another cloak here?"

Lord Gu raised his hand to rub the frost off his eyebrows: "Isn't he going to pretend to be a great sorcerer? I need to prepare all the best clothes for him! Even if he's not comparable to Chuchenzi, he still has to be better than an ordinary monk, right?"

Although Wuxin roughly resembled a human being, the subtle growth within him hadn't stopped, leaving him listless and constantly hungry or sleepy. He sat on a small stool, yawning, his hands resting on his knees, his eyes tightly shut. Yueya boiled a basin of water, wet a towel, and vigorously scrubbed his legs, trying to remove any remaining white hairs. Master Gu squatted beside him with tweezers, plucking the white hairs from his ears. Wuxin was annoyed by these two, but unable to complain, he could only silently endure it. His body leaned forward more and more, until finally he rested his chin on Yueya's shoulder and fell completely asleep.

Lord Gu lowered his head and blew on the tweezers, blowing off a few transparent downy hairs: "Look at his behavior, it really worries me. If he makes a fool of himself at the Marshal's Mansion tomorrow, I'll be in big trouble!"

Crescent Moon, carrying Wuxin's head, dared not move: "It's as if he wanted to go to the Marshal's Mansion with you; wasn't it you who forced him to go?"

Lord Gu sighed, his heart pounding with anxiety. He went back to his room and slept soundly through the night. The next morning, he got up early and saw a layer of smoke rising from the courtyard, indicating that Yueya had already started cooking in the kitchen.

He quickly dressed and washed up, then changed into a simple long robe and mandarin jacket, and walked into the courtyard with a thick woolen top hat: "Crescent Moon, are you cooking?"

Crescent Moon's voice came from the kitchen: "It'll be ready soon, so it won't keep you from leaving. Wuxin's up too, come inside and wait!"

Lord Gu, clutching his hat, entered the west wing, pushed open the door, and stepped inside, coming face to face with Wuxin. Wuxin was already dressed in a monk's robe, which subtly reflected the sunlight, highlighting the lines of his thin, angular body. The robe was jet black, the inner garment snow-white, making Wuxin's face appear exceptionally clean and delicate; beneath his thin skin, even the bluish-red veins were visible. Overnight, his eyebrows had grown, and his large eyes, sunken in their sockets, carried a hint of sinister ghostly energy.

Lord Gu suddenly noticed a problem: "A string of Buddhist prayer beads is missing; I forgot to buy it for you yesterday."

Wuxin walked to the table and sat down, pouring himself a cup of hot tea. "It's alright, missing one or two things won't matter. Lord Gu, once we're in the Marshal's mansion, don't talk to me unless it's absolutely necessary."

Lord Gu was taken aback: "Why?"

Without even bothering to find the leftover snacks from yesterday, she eagerly shoved them into her mouth while sipping hot tea: "Just listen to me!"

The two ate the rice porridge and steamed buns prepared by Yueya. A car horn sounded outside the courtyard; it was time to depart. Yueya brushed the crumbs off Wuxin and then unfolded a cloak for him to wear. As Wuxin received Yueya's care, he sighed, "Alas, I haven't been a proper monk for over a hundred years; I've forgotten how to recite scriptures."

Crescent Moon slapped him on the back: "Listening to you talk is creepy! Go and come back early, stop causing trouble, and don't go fooling around with Lord Gu, do you hear me?"

Wu Xin obediently agreed, then pulled up the hood of his cloak and put it on his bald head. The hood was a little too big, and the brim covered his eyebrows and eyes. Lord Gu also put on his top hat, and the two of them went out on their journey one after the other.

The car indeed stopped in the alley, and a young adjutant in military uniform got out and paced back and forth beside the car. Suddenly seeing someone push open the door and come out, he quickly stepped forward and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mr. Gu?"

Lord Gu immediately nodded: "Exactly."

The adjutant scrutinized the monk behind Lord Gu, but because he could only see his lips and chin without any visible features, the man seemed extremely mysterious. For a moment, the adjutant hesitated to ask any questions, and simply smiled at Lord Gu again. Lord Gu immediately understood and said amiably, "This is the monk I was referring to."

The adjutant nodded repeatedly, then turned and gestured to the car, saying, "Please get in quickly, gentlemen. The old marshal hasn't slept all night and is just waiting for you two."

Lord Gu dared not neglect the person beside the old marshal, even if he was just an adjutant. Wuxin, on the other hand, remained silent and followed Lord Gu into the car.

The car drove out of the alley and onto a smooth main street. Wuxin glanced out the window at the scenery, secretly marveling at how much the world had changed. Meanwhile, Lord Gu chatted animatedly with his adjutant, thoroughly understanding the situation at the Marshal's mansion—they had already begun preparing for the young master's funeral to bring good fortune; yesterday, the Premier had called the old Marshal from Beijing, asking him to go to Qingyun Temple on Qingyun Mountain in Chang'an County and ask the abbot to come and take a look; the old Marshal didn't know the abbot of Qingyun Temple and was somewhat skeptical, so he hadn't actually sent anyone yet.

Lord Gu knew that Chuchenzi was truly capable, so he nudged Wuxin's thigh through his cloak, signaling him to be alert and not give Chuchenzi a chance to appear. Wuxin turned to look at him, but remained silent.

The car drove steadily and quickly, and in no time at all, it stopped in front of a mansion. Looking into the distance, Wuxin noticed that the house was quite different from before; it was entirely built of cement bricks and stones, giving it a strange and imposing appearance. Gu, craning his neck to look out through the windshield, could see a large group of people standing in front of the mansion, among them a man of considerable stature—his good friend, Mr. Su.

After the car came to a stop, the adjutant in the front passenger seat got out first and opened the rear door for Lord Gu and Wuxin. Lord Gu stepped down first, and seeing Mr. Su's solemn expression, he immediately became nervous. When Wuxin also came out, he walked awkwardly towards the crowd, unsure whether to smile or not. Mr. Su, understanding his situation, said to a short soldier beside him, "General, this is Gu Xuanwu."

The old marshal didn't look very old, only about fifty years old. He was lean and wiry, with a mustache reminiscent of Kaiser Wilhelm. His eyes weren't large, but they were sharp and piercing. This was the first time in his life that Lord Gu had seen the old marshal in person. All the pleasantries he had prepared vanished instantly, and he couldn't utter a word. He hurriedly bowed, his forehead almost touching the old marshal's lower abdomen. The old marshal merely nodded to him and then turned his gaze to Wuxin.

Without thinking, he pushed his hood down, clasped his hands together, bowed slightly, and murmured in a low voice, "Amitabha."

The old general clasped his hands in response and said "Amitabha," then said urgently, "Master, please come in."

Ignoring everyone else, Wuxin flicked his sleeve and walked forward, following the old general as he entered through the gate. The old general's beard was unkempt, one side sticking up and the other hanging down, trembling with his words. Looking up at Wuxin, the old general described his beloved son's condition while secretly harboring suspicions. Wuxin didn't seem like a highly accomplished monk at all. He didn't seem like a monk, but he didn't seem like a charlatan either; what exactly did he seem like? The old general couldn't quite put his finger on it.

The Marshal's mansion courtyard was a large open space, with a tall fountain in the center. In the cold winter, the fountain dried up, revealing the high and low water pipes inside the cement pool. Behind the fountain stood a grand Western-style building, its windows inlaid with stained glass, looking quite modern. The old Marshal kept rambling on and on, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the mansion was a sight to behold. Finally, having had his fill of admiring it, he casually asked, "Where is your son?"

The old general quickly pointed forward: "It's inside the building."

Without thinking, he put his hands behind his back and sensed that the spirits within the mansion were restless and the yin energy was heavy, ruining the beautiful architecture of the mansion.

The old general was so anxious that he was incoherent, saying in a jumbled mess, "Oh right, I haven't asked the master for his Dharma name yet..."

Without a thought, he walked straight into the building, answering without turning his head, "Wuxin."

Wuxin and the old general strode briskly into the building, followed closely by their adjutants, family members, staff, and others, all maintaining a solemn silence. Lord Gu, supporting the ball-like Mr. Su, lagged behind, but also hurried to catch up. Standing a head taller than him, he saw Wuxin stop at the foot of the stairs, which was covered with a Persian carpet, and calmly remove his cloak, handing it to the old general beside him. The old general was clearly taken aback for a moment, but then caught the cloak without daring to utter a sound.

Wuxin tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and pulled a black cloth strip from his left sleeve. He stretched the strip upwards to cover his eyes, waved to the old general beside him, and said softly, "Come with me."

Then he precisely stepped onto the first step and walked upwards step by step. The old general draped his cloak over his arm and followed closely behind.

A large group of people downstairs hesitated, unsure whether to continue following. The monk didn't slip and tumble down, and the old general was also avoiding them like the plague. Watching them turn the corner one after the other, Mr. Su turned to Lord Gu and gave him a thumbs-up: "Truly a master!"

Lord Gu, holding his top hat, was speechless as he looked at Mr. Su. He thought to himself, "If I can't save the young master's life, will the old marshal chew me up?"

(End of this chapter)