The Tale Never Ends Chapter 127

As soon as the short old man had revealed that he knew Father, I was perplexed with astonishment! He knew Father?! Could he be the one that G.o.dmother was speaking about? Amid my bewilderment, my eyes wandered to G.o.dmother, staring at her as if hoping that her face might contain answers to my suspicion. But what I received was merely a doubtful nod from her.

But the reverberating reb.u.t.ted harshly, “Nephew, you say? Is your hoodwinking of them with your magic a fitting gesture of hospitality by an elder for younger kin?” “The boy is a medium himself! Wading through dangers are his bread and b.u.t.ter! These simple obstacles were merely trials for him! Consider this a necessary but much-needed lesson from a concerned elder for him!” Instead, the faceless voice broke into a less frosty sneer, “Hahaha! Let me tell you then, in case it has slipped your notice. Murong Hai's daughter-in-law is also present! As an elder, you have deceived them with your magic and have frightened them! I'd love to see how Murong Hai's wife will make of this!”

Finally, the truth dawned upon me! These people have been waiting for us; the old man had been using his magic to force us into traveling in circles! Frankly, I could not help but felt slightly vexed as I wondered if the old man had intentionally tried to fool us. Moreover, from what the voice had said, it was clear that this stocky old man had once suffered a las.h.i.+ng by Mother so severe that now the incident has become the subject of shame and embarra.s.sment for him!

The fuming old man stomped his feet with an ear-splitting “Aee-yah!”, before he added, “I just don't care! It was not my fault then!” But he quickly spun on his heels to face me. “My nephew!” He called to me warmly, “I'm sorry. I did not know that you have your wife here with you! Come indoors and have some hot tea to stave off the cold!” He reached to pull at the reins of my horse, only for the horse to flinched away, making me wonder if my horse too was finding him too ugly! My beast continued stepping away to avoid him, even as the old man tried vainly to seize the reins, creating a brief but hilarious moment.

I swung myself off my horse. With a bow to the air, I shouted to the voice, “My deepest thanks to you for your concern over our wellbeing, Senior!” “That's his magic. It allows him to project his voice for miles. For all we know, he might be far away, outside the gorge,” snorted the squat old man, “Pay him no heed!” Since he addressed me as a nephew, this could only mean he is of similar seniority to Father. I quickly bowed to him as well. “My apologies to Uncle for the delay greetings. We're sorry for intruding your peace!” “Enough with the formalities,” he muttered, waving me off, “Come! My home is just near! Let's have some tea for the cold! Come, my good boy!” He pointed ahead. “I'll walk in front to lead, just keep up with your horses…” He began pacing away.

Mysteriously, he appeared to be walking slowly ahead of us, but our horses could only catch up to him and maintain speed by trotting. He led us on a short journey until several burrows that looked like huts on a hilltop could be seen sprouting fumes from their chimneys came into view. The compound was enclosed by wooden stockades with a little door. The old man opened the door and invited us in. We fastened the reins of our horses to the stockades before retreated indoors to escape the frost. The little hovels belied its outwardly small size; it was s.p.a.cious inside with plenty of room for all of us. The old man unfurled a carpet which was propped up against a wall and asked us to have a seat. With all of us settled down on the carpeted floor, he slipped into his chambers and came out not long later and sat with us.

A boy came out minutes later, carrying trays of silver tableware containing steaming hot tea, the Mongolian milk suutei tsai. Living close to Mongolia, he was no stranger to their ways. Hardly a lover of the local beverage, I raised my cup and sipped perfunctorily. Still, I welcomed the warmth that it restored to me nevertheless. Recognizing their local drink, the rest of the girls performed a few Mongolian rituals before enjoying the drink. Only Yuan Chongxi dove at the drink with tremendous alacrity, much to the old man's amus.e.m.e.nt. “Hahahaha! I like him!” He broke into a peal of guffaws, “He reminds me of myself!” Yuan Chongxi could merely return a silly giggle as he continued downing his drink. The old man must have considered Chongxi as a kindred spirit, since they were similar in stature, I mused quietly to myself.

Moments later, we began to realize the warmness rising from the floor. A recess had been dug into the ground underneath the floor we were sitting on so that fires can be kept burning below to keep the burrow from the cold! We began to feel more comfortable, enjoying being free of the biting frost. The boy returned, bearing two large wooden platters and laid them on the floor. The old man waved at us, motioning for everyone to sit around the plates like two doughnuts.

“He is mute,” remarked the old man, “I found him when he was still a poor young thing. His parents were killed by brigands in the mountains. He was just a little thing when I took him in and he has lived with me since!” The boy appeared as the old man finished, carrying a huge slab of meat just freshly cooked. Tatters of steam scudded and filled the room as the gigantic hunk of meat was lowered on to the wide platter with a deep thud as if it was a rock. The boy then went inside and returned with another similarly ma.s.sive chunk of meat and placed it on the other platter. For the third time, he returned again with some knives. It might be a local custom native to Mongolians, for the girls immediately drew their scimitars and laid them before themselves respectfully and they looked at the old man again like they were waiting for a cue from him.

It might be a Mongolian custom of respecting an elder's honor to begin a meal, I brooded. But the old man bellowed cheerfully, “We're not in Mongolia! All customs be d.a.m.ned! Just dig in!” The boy emerged from inside with a huge urn of wine. With a curt gesture, the old man motioned for him to leave it in a corner. “Come on!” The old man turned his attention back to us, “Make yourselves at home and enjoy this meal!” A warmness glowed in me as I beheld the old man's kindness and hospitality that he has shown to us. To think that we were able to stumble upon him in such rough weather and desolate wilderness, despite his weird methods to try to stall us.

I peered at Yuan Chongxi. He was already enjoying himself, with or without the old man's beckoning calls. Never to be one for niceties at the table, Chongxi mumbled through a mouth full of meat as he took a thirsty swig of wine, “Oh my, the meat is good! The wine is delicious too!” His straightforwardness only made the old man laugh. They looked quite a match for each other that any other person would have mistaken them for father and son. The old man emptied his cup with a single gulp and remarked, “Hahaha! You are just like me when I was young, boy! I like you, boy!” “You don't know me, old man!” Chongxi replied, his voice m.u.f.fled by his full mouth, “I was a poor orphan when my mentor found me. We were so poor then that we eat as much as we could whenever we found food!” He chewed ravenously on the meat with shreds spewing whenever he opened his mouth to speak. The old man slapped hard on the table, exhilarated beyond measure, “Good! This is what I'm talking about! Just eat as much as you can!” That must be it, I wondered, the frank and honest audacity that Father admired, hence they became friends.

I took a bite of meat and asked the old man curiously, “But, err… Uncle? There are not even birds here nearby. Where do you normally hunt?” The old man laughed. He normally hunted outside the gorge where we were now in. He'd skinned the animals he caught and stored the meat in the cellar as rations for the winter.

After almost three rounds of wine, I had enough. I offered a cigarette to the old man before offering my pack to everyone else. When it came to Edelweiss, she blushed and declined my offer for a smoke. She would be quitting smoking, she muttered sheepishly. I do not mind, I told her and she took one of my cigarettes and set it alight herself. “So, Uncle,” I said to him while heaving a swig myself, “I guess you are apprised of my purpose for coming this far, do you not?” He nodded. He searched around his pockets and found a very small flask the size of a thimble from his chest pocket. He tossed the flask to me. “The bunch of foolish demons wandered here a few days ago and I overheard them talking about you. At first, I did not know you are my friend, Murong Hai's son until I heard them mentioning the Spirit Gourd your father used so many years ago. It was only then I realized who you were! How dare these lousy curs come into the Labyrinthian Canyon and wish ill upon my nephew! Filled with anger, I severely punished them and took this Flask of Souls from them!”

The snowy gorge we were now in was called the Labyrinthian Canyon. The old man had cast a powerful enchantment over the entire area that anyone who enters the canyon will be lost. There was but only one way to escape the bowels of the bewitched canyon, that is to retrace one's steps towards the direction they came from. The pack of fox demons had unwittingly ventured here and were apprehended by him. After some interrogation, he found out where we were and took the Flask of Souls that contained Aunt Ulan's spirit.

The sun was setting by the time we finished our long meal. We had spent the entire afternoon having lunch, talking, and having dinner too. Through the whole afternoon, I talked to the old man about my parents, whose stories delighted him immensely.

Night was completely upon when we decided to take our leave and return to the encampment, having achieved our purpose of regaining Aunt Ulan's soul. But the old man stopped me. “How about another night? You can visit the old senile waiting for you at the other side of the canyon. He's been expecting you ever since he's got wind of your arrival!”