Chapter Six: A Joyous Reunion by the Bridge of Helplessness

Liaochen walked along the Road of the Yellow Springs, his gaze falling upon the endless sea of fiery red blossoms, his thoughts rising and falling like waves. If the Great Way truly had no gate, then would not everyone, regardless of who they were, have to travel this long and solitary journey? Between life and death, the realms of yin and yang are made clear; all grudges and affections of former days are left behind, dissipating like clouds.

Intentionally, Liaochen wandered through the underworld, the Lord Zhong Kui making no move to stop him. Only the two reckless Wuchang ghosts accompanying him seemed impatient, but dared not voice any complaint. Once they passed the Road of the Yellow Springs, they arrived at the Terrace of Longing for Home—a peculiar earthen mound. On top of the terrace, countless spirits wailed and lamented; for here, they were to bid their final farewell to the mortal realm.

Standing atop the terrace, Liaochen looked back, wishing to see what his disciple was doing. He could see only his own body, still sitting cross-legged where he’d left it, shrouded in a misty haze. If he could not return within seven days, he would truly be dead.

Beyond the Terrace of Longing lay the River of Forgetfulness, and upon the Bridge of Helplessness shadows loomed thick and heavy. Here, Liaochen had reached his destination. At the riverbank stood the Stone of Three Lifetimes, split into three by two divine marks. Liaochen walked up to the stone and pressed his palm against the surfaces representing past and present lives.

Strangely, both were shrouded in a grey fog—there was nothing at all. Liaochen was shocked. How could he possibly have neither a past nor a present life? Was it not said that the Stone of Three Lifetimes spanned the six realms, recording all previous and current existences? Beneath the Heavenly Way, could anyone truly escape? Without past or present, from whence had he come? Were all his memories of past and present but illusions?

Liaochen stood in stunned silence by the River of Forgetfulness for a long time. The two Wuchang ghosts grew anxious, while Zhong Kui simply waited with a gentle smile, showing not the slightest urge to hurry him.

"Young man, come here to this old woman; let me see if you still remember me." A voice sounded directly within Liaochen's mind. Startled out of his musings, he saw an old woman at the bridgehead gazing back at him.

"Granny Meng," Liaochen greeted her with utmost respect. No matter what later generations might speculate about Granny Meng’s true identity, even the usually bold Zhong Kui showed her nothing but deference—surely, only someone of great background could endure countless ages by this bridge between worlds.

"Every day, this old woman sees souls cross the boundary between life and death. Any who have sipped my soup, I remember them all," Granny Meng said, smiling at Liaochen.

Liaochen was amazed. The souls passing this bridge must number in the billions—how could she possibly remember them all? He glanced at Zhong Kui, a native of this underworld, who simply nodded. Liaochen had no choice but to accept it. Perhaps Granny Meng, brewing her soup from the tears of all living beings, remembered every flavor of the mortal world—its joys, sorrows, bitterness, and sweetness.

"And that boy’s past and present lives?" Liaochen asked quietly.

"Some things cannot be spoken," Granny Meng replied, shaking her head. Lifting a bowl of soup, she offered, "Would you care for a taste?"

Liaochen leapt back in alarm. The Soup of Forgetfulness was not something he dared touch—he had no intention of rushing to reincarnation.

"In this soup are all the flavors of the world, yet they cannot compare to the entanglements of mortal fate," Granny Meng sighed, shaking her head.

"Dare I ask why you called me over, Granny Meng?" Liaochen asked cautiously.

"Oh, a few years ago, a charming little fox came by, asking after you. That fox and I go back a ways. I refused to answer its questions, so it simply refused to leave. In my softheartedness, I let it stay. But if one does not cross this bridge, one must linger in this place where yin and yang are not yet divided—not a good fate. So I told it that in a few years, you would surely pass this way. It has been waiting here for you ever since," Granny Meng said with a helpless smile.

Liaochen grew wary. He did know a white fox, but what connection could it have with Granny Meng? How could she break the rules of life and death to keep it here, while the entire underworld looked the other way?

Just as he was pondering this, a snow-white figure darted out from afar, bounding through the fiery red blossoms. Who knows how many flowers suffered its playful assault on the way? In a flash, it leapt into Liaochen’s arms, its fluffy tail brushing his face in greeting.

Holding the fox, Liaochen was overwhelmed by emotion. He had planned to visit the nameless valley to see it, but never thought they would meet here instead.

Granny Meng smiled as she watched the fox nuzzling in Liaochen’s embrace. "Whatever you and this little fox have to say, say it here. There’s still time—the others will not make their decision so quickly." Liaochen understood well enough whom she meant, though he could not speak as freely as Granny Meng.

After apologizing to Zhong Kui and the others, Liaochen took the fox to the Stone of Three Lifetimes and began to tell it the story of Yunhuzi, the Cloud Fox. The fox, lingering by the River of Forgetfulness, was clearly held back by some unbreakable attachment. Since Liaochen had come, he was bound to share this story with it. He spoke gently of Yunhuzi’s mischievous adventures, bringing each scene to life. The fox listened, utterly entranced, its tail stilling, soft whimpers escaping its throat. Liaochen’s own heart ached with sorrow.

He recalled their meeting in the valley, rescuing the pitiful fox from the hands of several unsavory characters. That night, the fox died in his arms. Yunhuzi had not even opened its eyes to see its true mother, only taking Yunhua for its mother instead. How heartbreaking that must have been for the fox!

The story took a long time to tell. When at last it was finished, Liaochen stroked the fox’s furry head. "If there is a chance, I’ll take your son to visit you in that valley, let you see for yourself that mischievous little fellow. He’s a genius at cultivation—far too clever, really, like a child." Liaochen couldn’t help but laugh. Wasn’t Yunhuzi just a child? Who knew what their true origins were, but a thousand-year-old white fox could hardly have a short life, and the little fox had only lived a few years—just the age for mischief.

"Enough, little fox. You’ve seen your person, heard your story; it’s time to return," Granny Meng’s voice drifted over. Both the fox and Liaochen felt reluctant to part. Who knew if they would ever meet again? The fox whimpered mournfully, and Liaochen’s heart was heavy as he slowly brought it to Granny Meng’s side and handed it to her.

"Ah, what a tangled fate," Granny Meng sighed, shaking her head. Liaochen could not quite understand her meaning. The fox squirmed in her arms, burying its head in her embrace. Granny Meng took out a sparkling pearl and said, "If you ever find your cultivation blocked, place this pearl under the moonlight and take that Yunhuzi with you to Qingqiu. Little Yunhu may cultivate your Daoist arts, but in the end, it must return to Qingqiu, or it will never truly become a fox. When the time comes, you will meet again." Stroking the fox, she continued, "Silly fox, your trials are over for now. It’s time to go back."

At her words, the fox turned to look at Liaochen, who nodded in reply. The fox closed its eyes, and a golden beam of light shot down from the heavens, illuminating it in Granny Meng’s arms. In an instant, the fox dissolved into a rain of blossoms, vanishing before their eyes. Liaochen felt a faint ache of parting in his heart. He was about to ask Granny Meng about the fox’s origins, but she merely shook her head. "The time is not yet come. When it is, you will know. For now, you should hurry and meet the famous Lord Bao in the mortal realm—your verdict will soon be issued."

While Liaochen lingered by the Bridge of Helplessness, high above in the Celestial Palace, a discussion began regarding his transgressions—violating heavenly laws, trespassing in the underworld, and smuggling souls. Normally, such minor matters would never reach the Jade Emperor’s attention. However, since Liaochen had even breached the Northern Dipper Star Palace, clearly he was no ordinary person. The underworld was reluctant to pass judgment on him and had instead petitioned the heavens for a verdict. The Jade Emperor, left with no choice, summoned the immortals to decide the matter. Liaochen’s own ancestral master, Lü Chunyang (Lü Dongbin), representing the Eight Immortals, stood in the Hall of Radiant Clouds as well.