Mountains and Rivers Witness, Memories of Bygone Fires Chapter Sixteen: That Mountain, That Scene, That Person (Part One)

The next morning, Chen Zhiming rose early and stepped out of the side room, stretching lazily. Ever since he had taken Su Yuluo as his sister, he’d given her his former bedroom and moved himself into an adjacent side room. That space had originally been used for storing medicinal herbs and miscellaneous items, but Chen Zhiming had since turned it into a study, where he would paint or practice the zither on ordinary days. Now, since he lived there, he’d squeezed a small bed into the cramped quarters, which made painting a little inconvenient, but he managed. After all, he was still young and small enough to make do—for now. Who could say what the future would hold once he grew bigger?

He stepped out into the courtyard, worked his limbs loose, and began practicing the moves he’d secretly learned from the academy. He’d been at it for several months now, ever since he’d first picked them up, and could repeat the routine several times in a row. Every day, he would train until sweat drenched his body and he was utterly spent. This particular regimen had been modified by Jiang Wuyou, who had told him that if he trained this way, his physical strength would far surpass that of his peers learning the same method. Chen Zhiming could feel the truth of that claim: after each exhausting practice and a short rest, his whole body would brim with a renewed vigor.

Again and again, he repeated the forms in the courtyard until even the smallest movement became a labor. At last, he collapsed onto the ground. Just then, a small hand holding a cloth appeared before him. Accompanied by a clear, melodious voice, a young girl with two pigtails and a pale green dress emerged. She gently wiped the sweat from his face and asked, “Brother, are we going to the street to sell paintings again today?”

Chen Zhiming took the cloth from her hand. “I’ll do it,” he said softly, then looked at the little girl. “Yes, we’re going.”

At his answer, a look of disappointment flickered across her face, quickly masked, but not quick enough to escape his notice. He thought for a moment and asked, “Yuluo, do you know if there’s any festival coming up, or any interesting place to go lately?”

At this, the little girl’s eyes lit up. “I heard that the apricots are golden all over Mount Pingzhong, and the ginkgo trees are heavy with fruit. Also, the Zhongshan Monastery on Pingzhong Mountain only opens its doors once a year, and tomorrow is the day! They say the wishing pool at the monastery is very effective. I want to go tomorrow, and pray for blessings for Mother and for you.” She gazed at him expectantly. “Brother, may I?”

Chen Zhiming paused. If not for her mention, he might have forgotten that there was a Pingzhong Mountain in Tianyu, ranked sixth among the nation’s most beautiful sights. His mother had often spoken of it with longing, but due to her poor health, she’d never managed to go. He himself had always been too busy, and the thought had slipped his mind. Yuluo must have heard about it from others and wanted to see it herself. Recently, he’d been preoccupied with selling paintings and hadn’t spent much time with her. She, in turn, had been tirelessly caring for his mother and was surely exhausted. Now was the perfect opportunity to take her for an outing.

Looking at her eager little face, he said, “How could I let a little girl like you go there on your own? Besides, you’ve never left Lingwu before. As it happens, I’m in need of inspiration and plan to do some sketching from life. Why don’t we go together tomorrow?”

“Alright!” The girl leapt for joy, but soon glanced toward the house, her expression hesitant.

Chen Zhiming saw her worry and reassured her, “Don’t worry, I’ll ask our neighbor to look after Mother for us tomorrow. I’ll just give them a few extra silver coins.”

Though he still had the chest of gold Jiang Wuyou had given him, Chen Zhiming had no intention of using it—at least not until he went to the capital to retrieve what Jiang Wuyou had left behind. That gold, he’d decided, was to be used not for himself, but to build Jiang Wuyou a grand, splendid tomb someday.

He told the little girl, “Today, I’ll make you something delicious.”

“Hooray!” she cheered, bouncing off toward the kitchen to help him.

“This girl—so happy over a meal?” Chen Zhiming stood up, unhurried, and made his way toward the kitchen. Before he reached the door, a voice called from outside the courtyard, “Luoluo!”

Hearing the voice, Chen Zhiming immediately guessed who it was and turned to open the gate—only to be overtaken by the little girl who darted past him, shouting, “Sister Gu, I’m coming!”

She reached the gate, flung it open, and leaped into the arms of Gu Wen, who had just arrived.

Gu Wen carried her back into the courtyard. Chen Zhiming stepped forward. “What a surprise! This is your first visit here. What brings you today?”

The little girl, still in Gu Wen’s arms, explained, “Brother, I invited Sister Gu. I want to go to Zhongshan Monastery tomorrow, but I don’t know the way, so I thought Sister Gu could take me. That’s why I asked her here to talk it over with you and Mother. But now that you’re going too, we can all go together!”

At the mention that Chen Zhiming would join them, Gu Wen was a bit surprised. It wasn’t like him to show interest in such things unless necessary. Yet somehow, the little girl had persuaded him. That reassured her, since she herself had never been to Pingzhong Mountain. She had often heard about it and even wanted to visit, but her mother was always adamant that she stay away, claiming it was crowded with all kinds of people and dangerous for a young girl. Whenever she’d brought it up before, her mother would punish her by making her kneel in the courtyard.

If not for the little girl’s entreaties, Gu Wen would never have dared to go, nor to lie to her mother, which she’d just done for the first time. Without Yuluo’s help, she might never have gotten away with it.

She looked to Chen Zhiming and asked, “So, you’re lacking inspiration again?”

He caught her meaning and smiled. “Yes, I’m in need of new ideas, and I thought I’d accompany the little one for a change.”

As they chatted, the voice of Chen Zhiming’s mother came from inside the house.

“Anyao, who’s come to visit?”

Chen Zhiming turned toward the house and replied, “Mother, it’s a friend of mine.”

Gu Wen looked at him, puzzled.

Seeing her confusion, he explained, “My mother has always called me that.”

Understanding dawned on Gu Wen’s face. She looked toward the house. “May I go in and greet your mother?”

“Of course,” Chen Zhiming said, leading her inside.

Once inside, Gu Wen looked around. The furnishings were simple, but mounted high in the main hall was a landscape painting.

“That was painted by my father’s teacher,” Chen Zhiming explained. “When my father finished his studies, his master gifted him this painting, saying it held a certain truth about fate and the world. My father never quite understood it, but treasured it all the same. Over the years, I’ve sold off nearly all of his other works, but this one—I could never bring myself to sell.”

After introducing the painting, he led her into the inner room. There, lying on the bed, was his mother. Chen Zhiming approached, took his mother’s hand, and introduced Gu Wen.

Gu Wen quickly stepped forward and bowed respectfully. “How do you do, Auntie. My name is Gu Wen, and I’m a friend of your son.” She glanced at Chen Zhiming as she spoke.

His mother looked at her warmly. “Good, good. Anyao has mentioned you before, and little Yuluo often talks about you too. It’s good to finally meet you in person.”

Gu Wen smiled. “I’m sorry for troubling you, Auntie. They often mention you to me as well—especially Luoluo. She always tells me how gentle and kind you are, and how you treat her as your own. She’s full of praise for you. Now that I meet you myself, I see it’s all true. And to have raised such a talented son, you must be extraordinary yourself. I’ve also heard you’re a renowned master of music in these parts. It’s a great honor for me to meet you today.”

His mother smiled in response. “Oh, it was just a youthful passion. But you called him ‘Little Master’…” She turned to Chen Zhiming. “Anyao, is there something you’ve been hiding from me? What does she mean, ‘Little Master’?”

Gu Wen looked at Chen Zhiming, surprised he hadn’t mentioned it to his mother. But then, knowing his character, it made sense—he never cared for such empty titles. She grew a bit embarrassed. So did Chen Zhiming, for he never thought himself worthy of the term “Master.” He always tried to brush off such praise with a bashful smile. But faced with his mother, he felt even more undeserving, and hurried to explain, “Mother, she just means that my zither playing is almost good enough to impress a real master, that’s all.”

Gu Wen quickly added that she had misspoken, and his mother let the matter drop, instead urging Chen Zhiming to prepare a good meal to welcome their guest.

After the two of them left, his mother sat quietly for a while, lost in thought. Then she murmured to herself, “You, always so humble. But do you know? Your zither playing has already surpassed mine. You truly deserve the title of ‘Master.’”