Chapter 52 Winter Peach Blossoms?

Master Gou had a nap in that thatched hut, and after dawn, he stepped outside. All that remained inside were a man's coughs and a woman's sobs. When Master Gou emerged from the hut, a light drizzle was falling outside. Walking through the rain, he still felt a chill.

He had no idea where he was heading that day, and his stomach was rumbling with hunger. Where on earth could he find a full meal?

Seeing the rain, Uncle Hua knew he couldn't go up into the mountains that day, so he had no choice but to stay in his house, passing the time with a game of cards. Meanwhile, Aunt Hua was bustling about in the kitchen. Today was a good day—it was Uncle Hua's birthday, and Aunt Hua intended to prepare something nourishing for him. After all, toiling in the great mountains day in and day out was exhausting enough.

Aunt Hua had slaughtered a chicken, a plump, dark-feathered black chicken. Once cleaned, she placed it in an earthenware pot to stew, and soon a rich, savory aroma drifted throughout the courtyard.

After leaving the thatched hut, Master Gou happened to pass by this place. Catching the scent of the chicken, his mouth began to water uncontrollably. Besides, after the exhaustion of the previous night, didn't his body deserve some nourishment? Without further ado, he stepped into Uncle Hua's house. Catching sight of young Xiaohua, he must have been in high spirits, for he gave her a resounding slap right on her backside.

Seeing this, Uncle Hua didn't dare to say a word. His only recourse was to pretend he hadn't seen anything. Obligingly, he hurried over to fetch a stool, inviting Master Gou to sit down. Master Gou dropped into the seat in Uncle Hua's house, crossed his legs, and chatted away with an air of breezy confidence. Uncle Hua didn't have much leisure to keep Master Gou company, hovering nearby as he occasionally shouted angrily at the chicken in the pot or cursed a giant eagle flying across the sky. Yet toward Master Gou, who had taken over his house, he merely smiled continuously, now handing him a tobacco pouch, now pouring him a cup of tea.

At that moment, Xiaohua emerged from her room. Upon seeing Master Gou, her fury flared to the heavens, but observing how deferential her father was to this man, she found it inconvenient to throw a tantrum on the spot. Staring at Master Gou, she forced her face into a radiant, blossom-like smile.

For some unfathomable reason, Master Gou suddenly thrust out his foot, nudging Xiaohua's full backside, and burst into a loud laugh, plunging the room into an awkward silence.

"Master Gou, what is the meaning of this?" Uncle Hua asked. His complexion darkened considerably, though he still lacked the courage to flare up. It was glaringly obvious that he lived in fear of Master Gou.

"Oh, I saw a fly land on Xiaohua's backside. Thinking the creature might be venomous, I simply drove it away for her, nothing more. No other intentions whatsoever," Master Gou said, his face immediately breaking into a wide, remarkably charming smile.

"Ah, is that so? I am deeply grateful," Uncle Hua replied, quickly offering another cigarette and urging Master Gou to smoke again.

By now, Aunt Hua's stewed black chicken was ready, and its fragrance filled every corner of the courtyard. The moment Master Gou caught sight of the dish, his eyes locked onto a plump chicken leg. Reaching out with a filthy hand, he snatched it up. Without a word of polite refusal, he began to devour it voraciously.

"Mmm, delicious, simply delicious," Master Gou mumbled between bites.

Watching the scene unfold, Xiaohua lost all appetite. That chicken leg was the very piece she had been craving, yet Master Gou had seized it. How could she possibly have the heart to eat anything now? Furthermore, her backside had just been nudged by that man's boot—what mood for a meal could she possibly possess?

"I'm not eating," Xiaohua dropped her bowl and chopsticks, stormed resentfully into her room, and looked as though she never wanted to come out again.

"If you won't eat, don't eat. Who do you think you're trying to scare?" Uncle Hua muttered, going so far as to fling Xiaohua's bowl out into a distant patch of tangled weeds, where a giant ant immediately began to lick its surface.

"Come, let us eat the vegetables," Aunt Hua urged, dishing out the food. Master Gou, wishing for nothing better, seized the opportunity to consume a great deal more.

***

After the meal, Master Gou rose to his feet. Aunt Hua, for some inexplicable reason, had begun to weep softly. Uncle Hua sat with his head bowed, eating in silence as though he had committed some unforgivable crime and could never raise his head again.

Tossing a thick wad of bills onto the table—who knew how much was actually there—Master Gou let out another hearty laugh, threw open the door, and strode off into the distance.

***

That night, heavy snow swirled outside Shaoqiu's door. As the snowflakes drifted down, the earth grew bitterly cold.

He sat alone in his room when he heard voices outside once more. Stepping out to check, he found no one. Instead, the Gelimu Mountains had loomed closer from afar, growing so colossal that Shaoqiu was gripped by sudden terror, wondering what unpredictable misfortune would befall him next.

Shaoqiu stood before his doorway, gazing into the distance. Along the highway, a young woman was singing, trailed by a man holding flowers, darting back and forth to tease and amuse her, determined to win her smiles so he could reap his desired rewards. The girl indeed laughed, and right there beneath a tree by Shaoqiu's doorway, amidst the overgrown weeds, a pair of mandarin ducks fluttered up and flew away.

Shaoqiu remained standing at his threshold. In the desolate village, there was no one to speak with him, and even the passersby had grown scarce. Suddenly, Master Gou appeared before Shaoqiu's door once again. Everyone in the desolate village knew the source of his anxiety: after slashing Shaoqiu with a knife, he lived in dread of retribution. Therefore, he made it his daily routine to patrol the place, watching for an opportunity to finish Shaoqiu off. Only when Shaoqiu was dead would Master Gou be free from the fear of eventual revenge; otherwise, he could find no peace of mind for any undertaking. Since he was bound to die sooner or later anyway, what heart did he have to accomplish anything?

Master Gou stood right outside Shaoqiu's door. After all, Shaoqiu was merely a bookish scholar; what could he possibly do to him now? Catching sight of Master Gou, the villagers of the desolate hamlet also gathered before Shaoqiu's doorway, exchanging casual pleasantries with an air of profound and affectionate camaraderie.

This left Shaoqiu too intimidated to utter a word in protest. With the enemy's numbers overwhelming his own, what else could he do? He could only stand amidst the biting wind, staring at the looming Gelimu Mountains, uncertain whether their appearance foretold fortune or disaster.

Leaning against a pomelo tree, Master Gou puffed on a cigarette, exhaling thick plumes of smoke as he boasted with terrifying bravado. "I could slap Shaoqiu across the face twice. Do you believe me?" he asked one of his companions.

"Heh heh," the man smiled without answering.

Hearing this, Shaoqiu had no choice but to pretend he hadn't heard. What else could he possibly do? Master Gou possessed such a robust, tiger-like build, whereas he himself was sickly. Just a gust of wind was enough to set off another fit of coughing.

Hearing Shaoqiu cough, Master Gou burst into loud, mocking laughter. At the sound of that laughter, Shaoqiu's despair was beyond words! At that moment, he truly wished he were dead, yet he could not afford to die. If he were gone, what would become of Xiaohiu when faced with a wolf-like predator like Master Gou?

Shaoqiu dared not dwell on it. He forced himself to feign deafness, staring into the distance, resting for a moment before forcing himself back to his books.

At that moment, Master Gou's companion offered him a cigarette, taking care not to cast a single glance in Shaoqiu's direction—as though the young man standing nearby did not exist at all, or was not a human being, but merely a block of stone.

Smoking his cigarette, Master Gou soon pulled a blade from his tunic. It was an old knife, yet worn as it was, Shaoqiu instantly recognized it as the very weapon that had slashed him. The dark stains upon the blade had faded somewhat, losing their initial vivid crimson.

Wielding the knife, Master Gou slashed and parried against the trunk of the pomelo tree. The sight of the blade left Shaoqiu utterly speechless. Yet what could a mere scholar say?

After brandishing his weapon outside Shaoqiu's door for a while, Master Gou's companion departed in silence, leaving only Shaoqiu and Master Gou behind in the desolate space.

***

"Have you eaten?" Master Gou bellowed at Shaoqiu. His voice was so thunderous that a tile cracked, slipped from the eaves, and shattered into countless pieces on the ground below.

Shaoqiu gave a violent start, though he dared not remain silent. If he angered Master Gou, staying on in this desolate village would surely become impossible.

"I have... I have eaten," Shaoqiu replied in a tiny voice, terrified that speaking too loudly might offend Master Gou.

Withdrawing the blade, Master Gou tucked it back inside his garments where it remained hidden from view. An uninformed observer might have taken him for an upright and promising citizen, completely unaware of the nefarious deeds he carried out in the shadows.

Once Master Gou left, a desolate chill descended upon Shaoqiu's doorway. The wind howled relentlessly, sweeping away the Gelimu Mountains in the distance until they vanished from sight.

It seemed staying in this forsaken village was no longer an option. The day was drawing to a close, the setting sun smeared across the sky like blood, and amidst the freezing gale, Shaoqiu stood entirely alone, tears streaming down his face like rain.

Yet just as he concluded he could no longer remain, Aunt Hua appeared. The sprightly, vibrant grace of her walk instantly made Shaoqiu feel that life wasn't entirely wretched after all, and his urge to flee scattered like the wind.

Aunt Hua smiled at Shaoqiu as she passed. At the sight of that smile, Shaoqiu thought of Xiaohua—her lips like peach blossoms, her face like pear blossoms, and her eyes as limpid as spring water... All of these made Shaoqiu reluctant to leave.

He lingered right there, gazing into the distance. The last rays of the setting sun had faded from the western horizon, leaving behind a cold, desolate earth. Who else remained?

Only Shaoqiu, standing silently before the eastward-flowing river. Amidst the howling gale and swirling white snow, he fancied he could faintly hear the rhythmic, grating sound of a blade being sharpened.

Indeed, Master Gou was sharpening his knife. The sound sent shivers through the very heart of the desolate village. Yet, even if he was merely a scholar, so be it! Let everything come—let it all come!

Passing by Shaoqiu's door, Aunt Hua merely smiled and hurried on. As she left, she dropped a tiny blossom upon the ground, and its exquisite fragrance was intoxicating enough to make Shaoqiu swoon. Stepping up to the little flower, Shaoqiu bent down to inspect what kind of bloom it could be, that it should induce such profound intoxication.

It was a flower Shaoqiu had never seen before. Setting aside his bewilderment, he scooped up the tiny blossom and held it tightly in his palm, terrified that the freezing snow might cause it to wither. As for where such a flower could possibly have come from in the dead of winter, Shaoqiu had no way of knowing. Yet the blossom looked remarkably striking amidst the snow—could it be a plum blossom?

He didn't know. But it resembled peach blossoms even more. Wasn't it, to Shaoqiu's eyes, nothing less than a peach blossom? Yet he dared not believe it, for in the dead of winter, where on earth would one find peach blossoms?