Chapter 352: Fuck Off, Are You Leaving or Not!
Chen Changsheng returned to Qingshan City and found an inn to stay.
After asking Xiao’er (waiter) for a pot of tea, he closed the door.
He stood by the window gazing at distant Zhenlong Mountain, thinking once again of Xuan Huang—that honest and dutiful Taoist, that Taoist who wanted to eat a peach.
Senior Brothers often share some similarities.
Chen Changsheng took a sip of the tea but found it tasteless. After a moment’s thought, he put the cup down.
“One pot of wine.”
He went downstairs, found a corner seat, and asked Xiao’er to bring a pot of wine, then drank alone.
He drank from dusk till midnight.
Only when the wine smell thickened on him and his head throbbed fiercely did he stagger back upstairs, his pouch almost emptied of copper coins.
The waiter found this man strange, muttering while cleaning the table, “Alone and yet drank so much…” He shook his head but paid no more mind.
It was so late, likely no more guests would come. He could rest a little, head pillowed on the table.
.
.
Chen Changsheng rose early and headed for a roadside tea stall.
The elderly stall keeper was eating congee. Seeing Chen Changsheng, he remarked without surprise, “Drinking tea on an empty stomach harms it. Have some congee instead.”
“No money,” Chen Changsheng said.
The old man glared. “Not charging you!”
Chen Changsheng nodded upon hearing this, sat down, and served himself a bowl of plain congee.
The old man blinked. “You really don’t stand on ceremony.”
“You said no charge,” Chen Changsheng replied.
The old man chuckled wryly, lowered his head, and focused on his congee, unwilling to converse.
After finishing a bowl, the old man felt much better, his spirits lifting.
Chen Changsheng asked, “No one drinks tea this early. Why open your stall so soon?”
“Of course there are! Idlers like you come for tea.”
“I just like tea,” Chen Changsheng said.
The old man paused briefly.
Chen Changsheng looked at him. “What?”
“Lovers of wine never truly love tea,” the old man stated.
“Why not?”
“Tea and wine are like fire and water. You reek of wine, and it isn’t stale. You’re no true tea lover.”
Chen Changsheng smiled. “Good insight, sir. I do prefer wine. But I also hold tea in some regard—it calms the mind and sharpens the spirit. Not like wine.”
“Drinking tea and loving tea aren’t the same,” the old man countered.
Chen Changsheng thought long, then looked at his plain congee. “This plain congee is quite good.”
The old man was stunned, then burst out laughing.
“You’re one messy, confusing fellow.”
Chen Changsheng agreed, “You’re right. I am messy. And I hope one day to be less so.”
The old man waved a hand. “Enough talk with you. It’s wearisome.”
Chen Changsheng nodded, silently eating his congee.
Only when Chen Changsheng finished the last drop did the old man ask, “Well?”
Chen Changsheng answered, “Excellent.”
The old man grinned proudly. “My congee-making skill is top-notch. Many wish they could taste it.”
“There’s craft to plain congee?” Chen Changsheng asked.
“Of course!”
The old man explained, “Soak the rice beforehand—timing matters. The water choice is crucial. The heat control too. Add the right amount of water from the start; topping up later ruins it. Everything must be just right.”
Chen Changsheng murmured, “When is anything truly ‘just right’…”
The old man’s smile faded. He studied Chen Changsheng. “Life giving you trouble?”
Chen Changsheng blinked, then laughed softly.
“Not exactly hard…”
He explained, “It’s… life feels too clear sometimes. I often dwell on past memories—to remind myself I’m still a man with feelings and desires.”
The old man asked, “Are you perhaps a mountain Taoist?”
“Mountain Taoist?”
Chen Changsheng pondered, shook his head. “Not exactly. Why do you ask?”
The old man said, “The many mountains here hold Taoist Temples, full of hermits. Years ago, a few visited my stall. They spoke without emotion, seemed desireless. Eating solely to fill stomachs, drinking tea just to quench thirst. Not like living people.”
Chen Changsheng said, “Pure and simple lives cultivate mind and body. Many follow that path.”
“I don’t see anything noble about it. These Taoists never flew up to heaven. They die when it’s time. Still feel regrets when they go. So they better accept fate themselves.”
The old man eyed Chen Changsheng. “You’re different, though. Why rebel against it?”
Chen Changsheng grinned. “I’m the odd one out.”
The old man scrutinized him. “I like those who curse themselves.”
“You flatter me.”
“Shameless!”
The old man clicked his tongue. “Congee’s finished. Off you go!”
“Still haven’t had tea.”
“You’re mad! Congee then tea?”
“Can’t I?”
“Go ahead. Ten copper coins a pot.”
“Robbery!”
“Fuck off, are you leaving or not!”
Seeing the old man rage, Chen Changsheng stopped pushing. He got up and left the tea stall.
“I’ll return later.”
“Don’t! We talk different languages! Bad luck!”
Chen Changsheng smiled. He’d come back regardless later. The old man was interesting. The tea was decent, but the plain congee tasted even better.
He hadn’t gone far along the road when someone called out.
“Changsheng!”
Chen Changsheng turned.
A donkey cart stood by the roadside, laden with ripe red peaches. An Long stood beside it, waving towards Chen Changsheng.
Chen Changsheng walked over. “Fancy meeting you here, Brother An Long. Where are you headed?”
An Long handed him a peach. “Never thought to bump into you here! Where are you off to?”
“Wandering,” Chen Changsheng answered. “Never been to Qingshan City before. Want to see more.”
“Compared to outside?” An Long asked.
Chen Changsheng thought briefly. “Just as lively, maybe. But folk here seem more at ease.”
An Long agreed with a smile. “No great riches, but few troubles. That’s the upside.”
Chen Changsheng nodded. It truly felt like an untouched paradise.
An Long added, “By the way, Changsheng, you mentioned that Gu Insect Art to Aqing yesterday. This morning she collected bugs from who-knows-where. One or two are fine, but swarms get creepy. Scold her gently when you next visit? No good a young girl obsessed with such things.”
Chen Changsheng said instantly, “My fault. I’ll visit and talk sense into Aqing soon.”
An Long reassured him, “Not blaming you, Changsheng. Please don’t think that.”
Chen Changsheng smiled gently. “I never would.”