Chapter Fourteen: A Coin to Suppress Demons

“Oh,” Luchen paused, feigning great interest.

A middle-aged man dressed as a military officer descended from the carriage, clad in the Flying Fish uniform, unmistakably a member of the Imperial Guard.

“My master wishes to invite you to the residence. If your skills prove effective, he will not be stingy with gold. Would you be willing to pay a visit?” The officer, despite his burly appearance, spoke with surprising courtesy, which made Luchen feel a bit of fondness toward him.

“Oh, Captain Lu,” Luchen greeted respectfully.

“Ah,” the Imperial Guard was intrigued when Luchen recognized him, and looked at him with renewed curiosity. “You know me?”

“I’ve just arrived from Jingshan today, and it’s my first time meeting you in person, Captain Lu. It’s an honor.” Luchen thought it wise to forge a good relationship with the father of the future powerful Commander of the Imperial Guard. He took a talisman and a gold coin from his pocket and said, “Captain Lu, in a few years you will have a distinguished son. This talisman is for you—keep it with your son when the time comes, and it will ensure his safe and healthy growth.” He handed the talisman to Lu Song, who received it respectfully. Luchen’s words about a son brought a broad smile to Lu Bing’s face.

Just then, a white dove flew in from the horizon, startling Lu Song. In ancient times, carrier pigeons were an exclusive tool of the military, forbidden to civilians. Astonishingly, the dove landed on Luchen’s hand and transformed into a paper crane. Luchen unfolded it and remarked, “My disciple, seeing that it’s getting late, urges me to return.”

“Oh, oh,” Lu Song was clearly shaken by this scene, still trying to regain his composure.

“I have a gold coin here. Hang it outside your wife’s room—it will ward off evil and protect the household, ensuring peace and harmony,” Luchen said, handing over the coin.

“Oh, oh,” Lu Song took it, about to speak, but Luchen added, “I am lending this coin to the prince for five years. After five years, I shall return to reclaim it. The time is not yet ripe—let it be for now. Please convey my greetings to the prince. My disciple is urging me, so I must take my leave.”

“Oh, oh, safe travels,” Lu Song, seeing his mission accomplished and hearing Luchen promise to visit in the future, did not press him further. When Luchen had gone, he carefully tucked the talisman and coin away, recalling Luchen’s words and the miraculous transformation of the dove into a paper crane. Excited, he hid the talisman close to his heart—it was meant for his future son, best kept from the prince. He then drove the carriage back to the palace to report.

By the time Luchen returned to the inn, the moon was climbing above the treetops. Yunhua had clearly been waiting at the inn’s entrance for some time. Seeing Luchen, her face brightened, but then she quickly donned a look of indifference, her little nose raised high in clear displeasure. Luchen chuckled at his apprentice’s antics, ignored it, and ordered Yunhua’s favorite dishes to be sent to their room, gesturing for her to follow as he went back to his quarters.

For Luchen, the meal was merely a taste—he no longer partook in the food of mortals. Yunhua was used to this, but she herself ate so much she broke out in a sweat, which left Luchen secretly amazed at how her small stomach could hold so much.

It had been four months; Yunhua was no longer the same as before. The days spent sightseeing and enjoying good food had added a healthy layer of plumpness, and she was beginning to show signs of future beauty.

“Tomorrow, as soon as the city gates open, we’ll head home,” Luchen instructed Yunhua. “Get some rest—we’ll leave early.”

“Oh,” Yunhua was disappointed. She’d finally arrived in the big city and hadn’t explored much, but she said nothing. Her master had his reasons for leaving in haste.

Luchen noticed her disappointment and said, “We can come again next time.” With that, he rose and went to his room.

Prince Lu Anxing’s Residence

While Luchen and Yunhua were dining, Lu Song returned to the palace to report.

“Captain Lu, how skilled is that Daoist? Why didn’t you bring him back with you?” Prince Xing, seated in a place of honor, asked as Lu Song entered, the princess, Lady Jiang, seated beside him.

“Reporting to Your Highness, he is truly extraordinary,” Lu Song replied, his face full of reverence as he recounted the entire episode, leaving the prince and princess wide-eyed in amazement.

“Could the dove and paper crane be the legendary ‘thousand-mile message’ technique?” Prince Xing asked, then slapped his thigh with excitement—a bit too hard, perhaps, and quickly composed himself. “Since the days of the founding emperors, no one has seen a true master like Zhang Zhenren of Wudang. The tales from Dragon Tiger Mountain speak of real power, though no one knows for sure; neither I nor my brother have witnessed it. But since you saw it yourself, it must be true. Aren’t you an Imperial Guard? Find out where this master stays—I want to pay him a visit myself.” Prince Xing was so excited he could barely remain seated, pacing the room.

The princess, more composed, though eager to meet the Daoist, said, “It’s late. Tomorrow will do. Have Captain Lu find out where he’s staying, and we’ll visit him then.”

“Oh, very well,” the prince agreed, seeing the sense in her words, and suppressed his enthusiasm. “Didn’t he give you a gold coin? Let me see it.”

“Yes,” Lu Song quickly produced the coin and handed it over respectfully.

Prince Xing examined it carefully, unable to discern anything special. “What did the Daoist say? How should this coin be used?”

“He said to hang it outside the princess’s room—it wards off evil and protects the household,” Lu Song replied.

“Oh, let’s try it,” said Prince Xing, then called out, “Wang Fu, Wang Fu!”

“Your Highness, your servant is here,” entered an elderly eunuch, the chief steward of the palace. He had originally been a common sweeper in the imperial palace, but Prince Xing, liking his name and believing it auspicious, had requested him from his brother and made him chief steward. From then on, Wang Fu served Prince Xing with utmost loyalty.

“Lu Song, it’s late—go rest. Tomorrow, accompany me and the princess to visit the Daoist,” the prince instructed.

“Yes,” Lu Song withdrew.

“Wang Fu, hang this coin outside the princess’s door. Don’t lose it,” Prince Xing commanded. After Wang Fu left to carry out the task, he turned to the princess and said, “Tonight, I’ll sleep in your room—I haven’t rested well these days.” The princess was secretly pleased and her fondness for the Daoist master, whom she had yet to meet, grew.

The next morning, the prince and princess slept well past sunrise. Outside, Lu Song and Wang Fu had waited a long time, not daring to disturb their rest.

Upon waking, both Prince Xing and the princess felt refreshed, having not slept so soundly in ages. They marveled at the coin’s effectiveness—in truth, Luchen had simply imbued it with several calming spells.

By the time the prince’s carriage arrived at the inn, Luchen had long since departed. Prince Xing stood in silence for a long while, then sighed and consoled himself, “The master said he’d return someday—no need to fret about missing him.” He and the princess reluctantly returned to the palace, quietly instructing Lu Song to diligently seek out the Daoist’s whereabouts, hoping to visit him when the opportunity arose.

Meanwhile, after leaving the city, Luchen suddenly exclaimed, “Hmm,” and glanced northwest. “It seems we must delay our return—there’s still unfinished business.”

Yunhua had no objection; the longer she could travel with her master, the better. The two found a secluded spot, concealed their forms, and rode a cloud toward the northwest.