Chapter 5: Zhang Shouyi
888 Words
Shen Moyan got back to the shop. Old Zhou was organizing shelves.
"Xiao Shen, some old man came looking for you."
"Who?"
"Don't know him. Said he was your master."
Shen Moyan blinked. Since when did he have a master?
"Where is he?"
"Left. Said to find him at Chenghuang Temple tonight. He's stoking the boiler in the backyard."
Stoking the boiler.
A face flashed through Shen Moyan's mind—the thin old man who sat in the sun every day at the entrance of the Jiangnan Taoist Temple's boiler room. He'd lived on Chenghuang Temple Back Street for three years, passed that temple gate every day.
"Zhang Shouyi," Zhu Quan said. "I know of him. He's alive."
"You know him?"
"Don't know him personally. Heard of him. Most promising candidate of the last generation to make Celestial Master. Then something happened. He got ruined. Now he's just a boiler stoker."
"Why's he looking for me?"
"You'll find out tonight."
Seven that evening, Shen Moyan stood at the Jiangnan Taoist Temple gate.
The temple wasn't big—three courtyards deep. Front was Chenghuang Temple proper, back was where the Taoists lived. Two plaques hung at the gate: one read "Jiangnan Taoist Temple," the other "Institute of Folk Culture Studies."
He pushed open the door and went in.
Front courtyard empty. A few sticks of incense burning in the burner, blue smoke curling. He crossed the front yard, headed to the back. Back courtyard smaller, just a few single-story rooms. The innermost one had its light on, coal piled by the door.
Boiler room.
He walked to the door and knocked.
"Come in."
He pushed open the door, heat washing over him. Inside, a thin old man in an old padded jacket crouched by the boiler, adding coal. He looked up when he heard the door.
Those eyes—cloudy, but bright.
"You're here?" The old man stood, dusted coal ash off his hands. "Sit."
Shen Moyan sat on the only stool. The old man sat across from him, pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one, took a drag.
"Zhang Shouyi," he said. "You've probably heard of me."
"Haven't heard of you."
The old man paused, then laughed. "Makes sense. Who's heard of a boiler stoker?"
Shen Moyan looked at him, waited.
"You," Zhang Shouyi took another drag, "the last couple of days... seen things?"
"Seen them."
"And chatted with a prince dead six hundred years?"
Shen Moyan said nothing.
"Don't be nervous." Zhang Shouyi waved a hand. "I can sense it. You carry his aura. Zhu Quan, right? Ming Dynasty Prince of Ning. I've seen his charms—nine-stroke head, unique."
"How do you know?"
"Because the person I've been waiting for is you." Zhang Shouyi flicked ash. "You know what 'Connecting the Ages' means?"
Shen Moyan shook his head.
"It means your body can host the souls of cultivators from different eras. Not just one—many. Zhu Quan's the first, but not the last. There'll be a second, a third... until your body's full of 'debtors from the ages.'"
"Debtors from the ages?"
"Those cultivators who owed debts they couldn't repay in life. After death, their souls have nowhere to go, so they find someone with the 'Connecting the Ages' constitution. They move in, and you repay their debts for them. Repay one, one leaves. Can't repay, they keep living there."
Shen Moyan remembered Zhu Quan's words: "I owe you a 'welcome to debt collecting.'"
"So," he said slowly, "my whole life is just repaying debts for them?"
"Yes." Zhang Shouyi nodded. "That's your fate."
"I don't want this fate."
"It's not up to you." Zhang Shouyi looked at him with something unreadable. "That woman who delivered the book—you saw her, right?"
Shen Moyan nodded.
"Who is she?"
"Don't know."
"Not knowing is exactly right." Zhang Shouyi stood, walked to the boiler, shoveled in more coal. "I've searched thirty years, still don't know who she is. But she chose you. You can't escape it."
Shen Moyan was quiet a long time.
"Why me?"
"Because of your birth chart." Zhang Shouyi turned around. "The year, day, hour you were born form a once-in-a-millennium 'Debt-Bearing Grid.' Simply put, you were born specifically to carry debts."
Shen Moyan wanted to laugh, but couldn't.
"So what should I do?"
"Learn." Zhang Shouyi said. "Learn charms, learn ritual steps, learn inner alchemy. Master what Zhu Quan teaches you, master what everyone after teaches you. Once you've learned, you can start repaying."
"Repay whose debts?"
"First, Zhu Quan's. The debts he owes, you repay. Then the second, the third... until you reach the debts you owe yourself."
"Debts I owe myself?"
Zhang Shouyi looked at him. Long pause.
After a while, he said, "You know who you were in your past life?"
Shen Moyan shook his head.
"I don't know either." Zhang Shouyi walked to the door and opened it. "But someone does. When you've finished drawing the nine-stroke charm head, she'll tell you."
Cold wind blew in. Shen Moyan shivered.
He stood, walked to the door, looked back. Zhang Shouyi stood before the boiler, firelight flickering on his face.
"Master Zhang," Shen Moyan asked, "why are you helping me?"
Zhang Shouyi didn't turn around.
"Because the debt I owe," he said, "is connected to you."
- Writer
