Chapter 95: The Secret of the Wine Maiden’s Origins

Although Zhang Chi was unfamiliar with the geography of ancient times, he knew that despite the changes of a thousand years, the coastline and the general location of the Yangtze River’s estuary would not have shifted greatly. Entering the sea from Mount Meicen placed them near what would later be called Hangzhou Bay. Following the coastline upward was Jiangyin, which would one day become part of Jiangsu province, and it was here that the Yangtze emptied into the sea. Traveling upstream from the river’s mouth would eventually bring one to Shu.

There had been some concern about provisions, but fortunately, after the Way of Five Bushels of Rice raided Mount Meicen and fled to sea in haste, they had not managed to take all their supplies with them. The remaining stores were sufficient for the remnants of their force to eat their fill all the way to Shu.

After Zhang Chi gave his orders, the survivors of the Way of Five Bushels of Rice boarded the boats. The Northern Army had assembled many vessels from the coastal regions. Though they were all small boats, their numbers were considerable, and with only a thousand men from the Way of Five Bushels of Rice, there was ample space—no crowding at all.

The boat Zhang Chi boarded had once carried Gao Yazhi of the Northern Army, so it was somewhat larger. Apart from Zhang Chi, it also held Dao Xuan, the wounded Santong, the Wine Maiden, Ruoshui, and the group of women Zhang Chi had rescued at the start.

Once everyone was settled, the fleet set out in grand procession onto the sea.

With the business here finally concluded, Zhang Chi felt his spirits lighten. At that moment, he noticed Miss Ruoshui standing alone at the prow, gazing at the waves, seemingly lost in thought. He approached her with a gentle smile. “What are you thinking about?”

She did not look at him, her gaze fixed on the sea. “Do you know, sir, that I killed Sun Tai with my own hands?”

“Oh?” Zhang Chi was somewhat astonished. Ruoshui seemed so gentle and frail—yet she had killed the grand master of the Way of Five Bushels of Rice. Such is the power of hatred, he thought. He did not ask her how she had managed it, feeling that such memories might not be good for her to dwell upon. Instead, he sought to turn the conversation toward something happier. “Then I must congratulate you on finally avenging your father.”

Yet Ruoshui showed no joy. Perhaps, after so many years driven by vengeance, now that it was achieved, she found herself at a loss. “I have you to thank for this, sir. If not for you, I would never have had the chance or the fortune to infiltrate the ranks of the Way of Five Bushels of Rice, nor the opportunity to kill Sun Tai.”

With that, she turned and drew a brocade box from her robes, handing it to Zhang Chi. The box was small, only the size of a palm.

“What is this?” Zhang Chi asked in surprise. Why would she give him something for no reason?

“The legendary art of immortality lies within this box. I found it on Sun Tai after I killed him,” she replied.

Zhang Chi took the box and found it rather strange. Its surface was covered with a jumbled puzzle, much like the puzzles he used to play with. He tried to force it open, but it would not yield. Ruoshui cautioned him, “You mustn’t use force. The box is divided into eighty-one small wooden tiles, based on the Daoist principles of the Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams. It takes exactly eighty-one moves to open it. If you try to break it, the mechanism inside will ignite and destroy the secret within before the box itself is damaged.”

Marveling at ancient ingenuity, Zhang Chi could not help but be impressed. “But why give it to me?”

“Sun Tai had this box for nearly twenty years and never managed to unlock it. My father once told me to find you, since you know the Daoist Seven Character Mantra. Perhaps only with your great skill can the mechanism be solved,” she answered.

Zhang Chi examined the box carefully, then handed it back to Ruoshui. She seemed surprised. “This contains the secret of immortality, something all the world covets. Do you not wish to possess it?”

“If everyone desires it, why do you hand it to me?” he asked.

She replied honestly, “Because I cannot open it.”

Zhang Chi had never believed in immortality. Such stories, he thought, were nothing but self-deception. Throughout history, every emperor had sought eternal life, expending the resources of a nation, yet none had succeeded. More often than not, those who consumed elixirs in pursuit of longevity died young.

“The art of immortality,” Zhang Chi mused. “Your father, Du Zigong, was killed by Sun Tai because of it. Now Sun Tai is dead as well. If you ask me, it’s more a method of certain death than everlasting life. I don’t care for it and have no interest. You should keep it.”

Ruoshui seemed to ponder his words, but she tucked the box away with great care and murmured, “Still, it is my father’s keepsake. Besides, I do want to see what this so-called art of immortality truly is.”

Since she wished to open her father’s relic, it was not his place to interfere. He said, “I’ll go see how Santong is doing in the cabin.”

With that, he turned and entered the cabin.

Santong’s companion, who had stayed to tend to him, was also there. As Zhang Chi stepped inside, he realized he did not know her name, which made greeting her rather awkward. He had never asked before, since she had been a priestess of the Way of Five Bushels of Rice and it seemed inappropriate at the time. But now that she had chosen to follow him, not knowing her name was inconvenient.

Santong was gravely wounded, but thanks to treatment, was out of danger and lay unconscious. Zhang Chi sat by his side and asked the woman, “So much has happened recently. Now that you and Santong are with us, I still do not know how to address you.”

She hesitated for a moment before answering. “In truth, it’s not only you, General; few in the Heavenly Master’s sect know my name. Even Santong—I never told him.”

“Why is that?” Zhang Chi asked, curious.

She paused, then replied honestly, “I haven’t used my real name for more than ten years. My surname is Tuoba.”

“Tuoba?” Zhang Chi was surprised, as it was a rare name.

She smiled faintly. “Tuoba isn’t a Han surname. It belongs to the Tuoba clan of the Xianbei. I am not Han—I am Xianbei.”

“But the Xianbei are from the north. How did you come to be in the south?”

Since the topic had been broached, the woman continued, finally recalling events she had not spoken of for over a decade. “Decades ago, someone in the Tuoba clan unified the Xianbei tribes and established the Kingdom of Dai in the north. At that time, the King of Yan had a daughter of extraordinary beauty. The King of Dai saw her and asked for her hand. Her name was Murong Qinru.”

The name Qinru sounded vaguely familiar to Zhang Chi, but he could not immediately place it. Tuoba Hanxiang explained, “The King of Dai got his wish, and Murong Qinru, famed for her beauty, was made queen. But her presence brought with it much trouble.”

“What sort of trouble?” Zhang Chi asked.

“She was not only beautiful, but for decades she did not age or bear children. At forty, she still looked like a young maiden. Eventually, one of the princes fell hopelessly in love with her. He killed his father and brother and seized the throne, all so he could possess his stepmother, Murong Qinru.”

It was a tale of forbidden love, but such things were not uncommon in royal families of old, so Zhang Chi was not especially shocked.

“At that time, Murong Qinru found herself with child. The prince had just murdered the King of Dai, and Fu Jian’s great army, hearing of the chaos, seized the moment to invade. The Qin was powerful, and in that war most of the Tuoba clan were slaughtered. Amid the turmoil, a general gave his life to protect Murong Qinru and the former crown prince’s daughter, Tuoba Hanxiang, helping them to escape.

“I was just an infant then. Disguised as a peasant, Murong Qinru and the general endured countless hardships. Later they encountered Han refugees from the north. Pretending to be Han, the general and Murong Qinru joined them in flight.

“Yet during their escape, Murong Qinru went into labor and gave birth in the wild. I was still an infant, and for lack of milk was near death. Out of guilt over the father’s death, Murong Qinru abandoned her own child in the wilderness and nursed me with her milk. Years later, after many trials, we finally reached the south.

“Living in the south, they had nothing. Murong Qinru, though older, still looked like a young maiden. Her beauty caught the eye of Du Zigong, who married her and made her the Holy Mother of his sect. Yet because of her, Sun Tai became enamored and killed his master to seize the title of Grand Master.

“Perhaps it is a curse for a woman to be too beautiful. Murong Qinru did nothing wrong, yet she indirectly caused the deaths of several heroes. Du Zigong died for her, and she, unable to face the world, took poison and died with him. Even after her death, Sun Tai would not let her rest. Using Daoist sorcery, he preserved her body and swore to unravel the secret of immortality and bring her back to life.”

Having finished her story, the woman looked up at Zhang Chi. “You have met her. That day, the female corpse beside Sun Tai—that was Murong Qinru. And I am Tuoba Hanxiang.”

So many tangled threads lay beneath the surface, Zhang Chi thought in astonishment. But what concerned him most was something else, and he quickly asked, “And the Wine Maiden—why does she look exactly like that woman’s corpse? Could she be her own flesh and blood?”

Hanxiang nodded. “I was shocked the first time I saw her. The resemblance is uncanny—perhaps she truly is her daughter.”

Hearing this tale, Zhang Chi finally understood why the Way of Five Bushels of Rice had made the Wine Maiden their saint. This was the key to the matter. General Canghuai, once a priest of the Way of Five Bushels of Rice, must have seen the Holy Mother before. When Zhang Chi brought the Wine Maiden to his camp, and he saw that she was the very image of the Holy Mother, he took her captive and declared her the new saint. No one in the sect would ever doubt her identity.