The words "Feng Shui King" didn't really register in my dad's ears. He just looked at the ragged old Taoist, wearing worn-out clothes and tattered straw sandals, wondering what promises he could possibly make to our family.
Others had already offered a bride.
As the offers from the newcomers got higher and higher, my dad's expectations grew accordingly.
These people were either wealthy or noble, impeccably dressed, while this old Taoist looked completely unkempt. Why on earth should my son become his disciple? It really seemed like a boast.
But the expressions on the faces of the others changed drastically when they saw the old Taoist—some were surprised, some showed reverence, and others appeared uneasy.
"Master Li, you haven't shown yourself for many years. Is it because of this child that you've come out now?" the old man named Shen Xiuyuan asked.
"Do you think so? Handing this raw jade over to people like you is a waste. If I don't take him, do you expect me to leave him for you?" The old Taoist curled his lips arrogantly, clearly thinking himself above them all.
Shen Xiuyuan didn't get angry. He smiled and cupped his hands, saying, "Since Master Li has appeared to accept a disciple, I am indeed not qualified to compete with you. The path is long, the mountains high and waters far. Master Li, we shall meet again if fate allows."
With that, Shen Xiuyuan and his men bowed to the old Taoist and left.
Throughout, the old Taoist never even glanced at Shen Xiuyuan. After they left, he swept a look over the remaining people and said, "Well then, what are you still doing here? Waiting for lunch at my disciple's house?"
"Fat Taoist, I, Jue Ming, don't accept that. I came first. Why should he take your disciple? I want to take him too!" the chubby monk grumbled angrily.
"Is that so? How about you compete with me? If you win, the disciple's yours." The old Taoist narrowed his eyes at the fat monk.
The fat monk rolled up his sleeves, puffed out his cheeks, and suddenly said, "Fine, Old Taoist Li, you're bullying people. Goodbye!"
He stomped off angrily, obviously unwilling to compete.
The others—Yang Gaoyi and Ma Yuanling—also seemed wary of the old Taoist. They bowed politely and left silently.
They came fast and left just as quickly.
With the roar of engines, the cars parked outside my house all vanished.
But the villagers still gathered at the gate, some even climbing on the yard walls, craning their necks to see inside.
Our small Jiushan Village had never seen so many people or so many cars, and it had never been so lively.
Nobody knew why so many strangers, seemingly wealthy city folk, suddenly appeared at our home.
Actually, my family—including Grandma Liu—was also in a daze, unable to snap out of shock.
Now, only that old Taoist Li remained standing in the yard.
Grandpa finally reacted, walked to the gate, and politely told the villagers, "Alright, alright, everyone disperse. Our little Jie is sick; these people came to treat him."
He then closed the gate.
When Grandpa returned, the old Taoist said bluntly, "Where's my disciple? Take me to see him quickly."
At that moment, my dad hesitantly stepped forward and asked, "Master Taoist, are you taking my son as your disciple?"
The old Taoist nodded ambiguously.
"May I ask, if my son becomes your disciple, can he still marry and have children?" Dad asked cautiously.
"No problem. I follow the orthodox Taoist tradition. Not only can he marry and have children, he can also drink and eat meat—none of that matters," the old Taoist said frankly.
"One more question: can you find my son a wife?" Dad asked again.
Previously, all those people—except the fat monk—had eagerly tried to find me a bride. That Shen Xiuyuan even brought his daughter, proposing a child betrothal. That's what my dad remembered most.
This question surprised the old Taoist. He laughed at my dad, then snorted coldly, "You worry that my disciple won't find a wife? If he wants, any kind of wife can be found for him."
Dad looked skeptical. The old Taoist was in tattered clothes, unkempt, and seemed unlikely to have ever gotten a wife himself. Where did his confidence come from?
At this moment, Grandpa approached politely, "Master Taoist, no problem with becoming your disciple. Please hurry and see the child; he's close to death."
"The child's condition will improve immediately once I act. But before I do, there's something I must explain to you." The old Taoist's voice turned serious.
"Please tell us, Master. As long as the child lives, we will agree to any condition," Grandpa said earnestly.
"Once healed, I will take him as my disciple, but he must leave and have no contact with your family for ten years." The old Taoist looked at Grandpa.
The whole family was stunned. Mom worriedly asked, "What if we miss him? Can we visit him?"
"No. During the training, he won't return home, and you are not allowed to visit. Don't ask why—there is no reason." The old Taoist was firm.
Dad was unhappy hearing this.
The others promised to treat me and only talked about taking disciples—not about taking me away for ten years with no visits. They even promised a bride.
This old man gave nothing and made harsh demands.
But it was too late to regret. Those others had left without leaving contact info.
Finally, Grandma Liu spoke up, "There's no other way now. As long as the child can live and grow healthy, nothing else matters."
Her words were truthful, and the family reluctantly agreed to the Taoist's terms.
Then, they invited the Taoist into the house.
At this point, I was gravely ill. My body was covered with many livor mortis spots, my face pale and bloodless, and my breathing faint.
The old Taoist came to my bedside, glanced at me once, then muttered to himself, "Born a demon fetus, fate full of trials, eighteen calamities in life, each demanding a life. But you've met me, Li Xuantong—you're lucky, boy."
Then he placed his hand on the crown of my head and shouted, "Come out!"