Chapter Sixty-Three: A Man Like the Setting Sun, Still as a Candle Flickering in the Wind

The second day.

As the sun set behind the western hills, its fading light cast a yellow haze over the landscape.

Qingyuan and Gu Cang emerged from the mountain and entered Gu County.

When they returned to the Yan family residence, fallen leaves and dust still lay untouched before the door.

Yan Wang had not yet fully recovered, but he no longer appeared as despondent as he had in previous days. Still, his laziness persisted, and one could hardly expect him to be diligent enough to sweep the yard.

For some reason, upon this visit, Qingyuan sensed an added vitality, more than on their last two occasions.

He thought to himself, "This old Mr. Yan, at last, has regained some vigor."

The atmosphere in the courtyard had shifted, owing to the elder Yan's rearrangement of objects and his coarse reconfiguration of the residence’s geomantic balance.

Qingyuan had some understanding of geomancy himself.

To put it simply, it was about the quality of the surrounding environment. If the place lacked harmony in the five elements—if it was too hot or too damp, if air could not circulate or water could not flow, if dust or iron filings drifted through the air—then living there for long would inevitably bring illness.

The previous times Qingyuan had visited, the Yan family home was gloomy and damp, precisely because Yan Wang had neglected its upkeep, making it an unhealthy place for prolonged habitation.

Yan Wang had inherited skills from the Imperial Astronomer’s office, able to observe celestial phenomena and survey the land, and his mastery of geomancy was profound.

Now that his spirits had revived, he recognized the flaws, and so, taking advantage of the previous night, he set out a few objects. In just one night, the geomantic currents had shifted.

"His mastery of geomancy is indeed deep," Qingyuan silently praised. "Though these arrangements do not constitute a proper formation, and this tiled house is far from a blessed ground, after just one day’s change, at least living here will no longer harm the body. With his ability to balance the five elements, so long as he restrains his late-life melancholy and pays heed to his diet, then even as an ordinary man who has never cultivated, what need has he to fear he won’t live to a hundred?"

Thus, Qingyuan’s respect for Yan Wang grew further.

Before he could speak, a hoarse voice from within called, "Come in..."

Yan Wang had clearly seen them arrive.

Qingyuan entered the house.

Yan Wang sat at the table, having evidently gone out, for wine, dishes, and meat were set before him.

The old man was not one for courtesy; he neither invited them to sit nor to eat, only pointed to the side and said, "It’s over there."

Qingyuan turned to see a stack of papers pressed beneath a wooden block on a bench. The bottom four sheets were diagrams, while the top one was larger, folded several times.

"The place lies within the Southern Liang," Yan Wang said slowly, "in Luoyue Prefecture, at Fuchong Mountain, not too far from here."

Qingyuan moved the wooden block aside, took the four diagrams, and then unfolded the map, studying the terrain and names marked upon it.

Beside him, the ashes in the brazier were not from grass, but from paper.

He glimpsed, in the span of a day and night, how the old man had ceaselessly calculated, drawn, marked, and discarded, destroying untold diagrams to arrive at this accurate map.

"Mr. Yan, your mastery of this discipline is truly peerless," Qingyuan said, bowing as he put away the map. "Thank you."

Yan Wang waved his hand, a mocking expression on his face. "I can read the heavens and measure the land, but I cannot see through men and demons... What use is that?"

He waved again, "Off with you..."

Qingyuan sighed. "Then we shall not trouble you further."

He took some silver from his breast and placed it nearby.

"To have Mr. Yan lend his hand is beyond the measure of worldly wealth. This... is but a token."

When Yan Wang looked up, Qingyuan and Gu Cang had already departed.

He sat in silence for a long time, then took up his wine jar and went outside.

Though he possessed the ability to observe the heavens and survey the earth, he lacked any arts to protect himself. In his youth, he suffered much for this, knowing well the adage, ‘a man with a treasure invites trouble,’ and so, later, he withdrew among common folk, never again displaying his skill.

Yet, now in his old age, he remained solitary.

...

Qingyuan had walked a long way when he sensed something amiss. He stopped, turned, and looked back.

On the hillside sat a hunched, lonely old figure.

The old man lifted his head, raised his wine jar, and drank into the wind.

The evening sun was dim, sinking toward the west.

A man, like the sunset, grows old; like a candle in the wind, flickering at dusk.

...

Qingyuan fell silent, then turned and said, "Let’s go."

Gu Cang murmured in assent, but could not help glancing back again.

He had disliked the old man before.

But upon seeing this scene, he suddenly felt pity for him.

As a spirit-beast, Gu Cang could not name the feeling.

He only thought those wicked wolves deserved an even worse fate.

...

They left Gu County.

Heading toward Luoyue Prefecture, the path led them through Yao County.

Yao County lay beside Gu County; it was here that Qingyuan and Gu Cang had encountered the evil wolf disguised as a middle-aged woman.

Arriving, Qingyuan remembered the little girl.

"That child's talent is rather good," Qingyuan said with a smile. "We’re passing by anyway, let’s take a look."

Gu Cang had no objection, but having chased after the wolf, he did not know what happened afterward and was curious about the teacher’s words.

They returned to the spot where they had first found the evil wolf.

From a distance, they saw a small figure—it was the little girl.

She clutched a small bundle, sitting in a tree, head bowed, staring at the ground. She was motionless for a long time, and said nothing.

Qingyuan was surprised.

At that moment, two others approached—a husband and wife.

The woman carried a bamboo basket filled with food.

The man, somewhat annoyed, picked up a stick as if to strike, but hesitated, and finally put it down.

"Alright, eat your meal. The day is almost over; come home, and you can return tomorrow after you sleep."

"They say girls shouldn’t be kept at home—look at you, so young, already packing up to run off with strangers."

"At least you didn’t meet a kidnapper, or else you’d be sold off—what would you do then?"

"If that happened, I’d sooner sell you myself, trade you for a few bushels of grain."

The girl was eating, holding her bowl, and hearing her parents’ scolding, she paused, her eyes reddening.

Tears fell, pattering onto her rice.

The harder she cried, the faster she ate.

Rice mixed with tears tasted strangely salty.

She sobbed, choking out, "I just... I just want to learn something—it’s all that lying scoundrel’s fault..."