Chapter Twenty-Five: If There Is an Afterlife

"If there is a next life, will you marry me?"

The third sister, after swallowing the poison and already at death’s door, rested her head against Dao Chen’s chest, greedily trying to remember one last trace of his scent. In a faint voice, she said, "My second sister and I should have gone long ago. Father and Mother are gone. Eldest Sister is no longer our eldest sister. These days have been like a nightmare, with no hope in sight, and so we lost the courage to keep living. Only you were our one and only light. But you are still leaving. I only wish that before I die, I could keep seeing you."

She glanced toward her second sister, who had departed long before her, and said, "At first, Father planned for you to marry me. But you were unwilling. Later, Second Sister told me that you are the wind at the edge of the sky, bringing coolness, but never stopping for us. I did not believe it. I kept believing you would come back to marry me. I kept believing you would come back to marry me. But today I know that you truly will not. Is that not so?"

Tears already filled the third sister’s eyes.

Dao Chen choked, "I will marry you, I will take care of you, but please let me save you first, all right?"

The third sister gave a bleak smile. "No need. Truly, there is no need anymore. I miss Father and Mother. I want to return to the old days. Do not stop my sister and me from going to find our parents, all right? I beg you, all right?"

Dao Chen said nothing. Tears rolled down in torrents, striking the dust. Even the villagers outside the door sighed in sorrow.

Seeing Dao Chen remain silent, the third sister said, with a little joy and a little disappointment, "Promise me. Promise me, let my sister and me go together, so we may have company on the road to the underworld."

As she spoke, her hands weakly tugged at Dao Chen’s sleeve, pleading for him to agree.

Seconds passed one after another. The third sister’s face slowly turned bluish-purple, and the light in her eyes began to dim little by little.

"If there is a next life, I will surely marry you," Dao Chen finally said.

The third sister smiled, smiling so sweetly. But the gaze nestled in Dao Chen’s arms had already begun to scatter, and her breathing grew ragged. Dao Chen clutched her hand tightly, unwilling to let go in the slightest.

For the first time in his life, Dao Chen broke into a sobbing cry. The path of cultivation that he had once believed unshakably firm was like fragile crystal, shattered into countless tear-bright fragments by the third sister’s final, pleading question, glittering in the sunlight.

Only then did Dao Chen understand who should have become his wife. Only then did he understand why the third sister had forced herself to hold on, waiting for his return before asking the question in her heart. She feared rejection, and only at the brink of death could she summon all the courage of her life to voice the knot that had long bound her. What a foolish, lovestruck girl she was.

The third sister had refused Dao Chen’s treatment, waiting instead for his answer. Only when Dao Chen nodded heavily did she reveal a true smile. Softly, she said, "Brother Liao, I know that in this life I cannot marry you. My sister and I do not blame you. Only, my sister and I are so tired, so tired. We want to return to Father and Mother’s side, and sing to the ripples by the riverbank. There are so many, so many big fish there. Every day I will wait by the river for you to come back, wait for you to come back..."

Dao Chen did not stop the sisters from leaving. What would it have mattered to save them back? By the moment their enemy met justice, the sisters may already have been considering departure. These past months had been nothing more than a final lingering attachment. Yet in the end, he still could not keep even that last thread of yearning.

Green mountains like a painting, clear waters, and riverside homes. Dao Chen buried the sisters on a small hill by the river. There the green mountains served as their back, and the river as their companion. They could watch the sunrise before the mountain and the sunset behind it. Each morning, a hundred birds would sing; each evening, they could fall asleep to the sound of the waves. Most of all, the sisters could finally return to their parents’ side and lean at their feet.

Dao Chen remained quietly beside the sisters’ graves with the monkey and the fox. Watching the ebb and flow of the distant Yangtze, his heart was blank.

Was it so? Was it not? Now there remained only silent answers.

The fox wailed mournfully. Though it did not know what had happened, it still sensed a deep sorrow. It, too, followed Dao Chen to lie before the graves and sang a lament for the fox spirit departed. Dao Chen’s heart ached. He gathered the fox into his arms, as though embracing regret and apology deep within himself.

The sun was nearing the horizon. Dao Chen dug out two slabs of blue stone from the foot of the hill and carefully carved on them the tombstone of Madam Zhang, Second Sister, then set it upright before Second Sister’s grave. But when he came to the final stone, he could not bring himself to make the first stroke for a long while. Moonlight flowed like water, and the sound of waves rose from the river. Dao Chen felt the small carving knife in his hand to be unimaginably heavy. To carve the words was to carve in fate, to carve a promise, a vigil.

"The tomb of my wife, Lady Zhang, Third Sister. Set up by her husband, Dao Chen of Green City Mountain. Seventeenth day of the sixth month in the second year of the Zhengde reign."

He laid down the carving knife and carefully brushed the stone dust from the tablet again and again.

"If there is a next life, I will come find you. No fate in this life, but in the next we shall depend on one another. White-haired in old age, we shall never part."

Dao Chen’s voice was as faint as a mosquito’s hum, yet held a singular resolve. It was as if he were speaking to himself, and yet also answering someone.

The next morning, Dao Chen set up a great formation on the mountaintop. From that moment on, no one would again be able to disturb the Zhang family’s peace. He only wished the sisters might meet again in their next lives.

Dao Chen left, bidding farewell to the graves on the hill, bidding farewell to that former peace, placing a memory and a promise deep in his heart, and drifting away. He left behind the sisters, who would from that day on depend on one another.

After Dao Chen left, a hundred flowers bloomed overnight upon the little mountain peak. Bees buzzed and butterflies busied themselves among brilliant colors. Many blossoms that should not have opened until summer, too, came into fierce competition there, vying in fragrance and splendor. In an instant, the small hill looked like a fairyland. Countless people rushed toward that wondrous hill, only to discover, to their astonishment, that no matter how they advanced, they could never again draw near that small peak visible right before their eyes.

On the Yangtze, fishing boats dotted the water, sails came and went, as before. Dao Chen sat at the prow of the small boat he had transformed, striking the water with great force using his money-copper sword. The blade fell without a trace upon the water, yet it sent Dao Chen’s full power surging into the depths. In an instant, the riverbed churned with countless undercurrents. Aquatic plants snapped, mud and stone rolled chaotically. Fish and shrimp fled in panic, and turtles and tortoises burrowed into the earth.

Dao Chen struck for a long while, but the old turtle still did not appear. Alas, his swimming skills were too poor; he truly could not dive to the bottom of the river to fight a water-dwelling old monster. He could only sigh in helplessness! But helplessness did not mean Dao Chen’s petty temper would let it go. He took out three copper coins and carefully calculated the location of the old turtle’s underwater dwelling. He moored the boat above it, then seized the little monkey in the middle of the cabin, plucking three hairs from the back of its neck. Ignoring the monkey’s bared teeth and protesting cries, he silently recited an incantation, wrapped the hairs in a talisman, and cast it into the riverbed.

At that moment, the old turtle was hiding in the bottom of the river, carefully sheltering inside its shell to avoid disaster. Unexpectedly, a yellow object fell from the sky. Just as it was about to inspect it closely, the yellow thing transformed into ten thousand crackling water-thunder bolts. Frightened nearly out of its wits, the old turtle immediately shrank back into the cave of its dwelling. Even its rear end burrowed deeply into the shell. Thunder boomed outside; within the turtle cave, mud collapsed and stones rolled, a complete wreck. Only after a long while did it finally grow quiet. Then the old turtle dared to slowly extend its head, preparing cautiously to crawl out and see what had happened. Yet before it could reach the entrance, three enormous boulders fell from the sky. With three thunderous crashes, the riverbed trembled violently. The old turtle narrowly escaped, only to discover that the entrance to its home had apparently been blocked by huge rocks.

"Ah! So this is another mighty one. Best not to provoke him!" The honest old turtle sighed to itself, finally realizing it had at last passed this trial. Just as it let out a breath of relief, it stared blankly at the three huge stones above the cave roof. What immense strength would it take to move stones like those!

As for what happened to the old turtle, Dao Chen could not be bothered to care. Self-preservation? So your turtle shell had grown powerful. You bullied Dao Chen because he could not rush into the water and do as he pleased. As for breaking one’s word, what of it if Dao Chen smashed its dwelling and blocked its front gate? The person who had stolen the peachwood magic sword was not someone the old turtle could afford to offend. Was Dao Chen then some soft persimmon to be squeezed at will?

Having vented the anger in his heart, Dao Chen finally felt a little better. He cast one last glance at the small hill in the distance, now beyond sight, and seemed to see before the graves amid the green mountains and clear waters two figures silently waving him farewell...

Dao Chen gave a long sigh. "If there is a next life, I shall never fail you."

After speaking, he raised a tiny ornamental sail on the small boat, and together with the fox and the monkey, now learning the ways of life upon the water, he sailed eastward all the way toward the eight-hundred-li expanse of Dongting Lake.