[Translation] Don't Let The Country Go (不讓江山): Chapter Two: Greedy

“Master, are you hungry?”

Little Daoist boy Li Diudiu’er asked his master, the Daoist Changmei. Changmei lowered his head and looked at his stomach, then shook his head. “Not hungry.”

Li Diudiu’er pulled out over half a flatbread from inside his robe as if performing a magic trick. “Mm, then I’ll eat it myself.”

The old Daoist froze. “Where did you get that bread?”

Li Diudiu’er curled his lips. “You think you’re the only one who knows how to hide things?”

He broke the bread apart and carefully compared the pieces, making sure they were about the same size, then handed one half to the old Daoist. “I already told you, things have to be fair. Can’t you learn from me? You’re so old already—if you starve to death and croak halfway down the road, what am I supposed to do?”

The old Daoist took the bread and sighed as he looked at it. “Aren’t you hungry? This was the one I gave you yesterday.”

“I am hungry, but I’m dieting.”

Li Diudiu’er shrugged. “Losing weight takes a lot of willpower. Most people fail because they don’t have enough determination. I’m different—I simply don’t have the conditions to fail.”

The old Daoist looked at Li Diudiu’er’s skinny frame. “You? Why would you need to lose weight?”

“Because being skinny looks good.”

“And why do you need to look good?”

“What if some rich family’s young miss falls madly in love with me and insists on marrying me?”

“Uh...”

The old Daoist chewed on half the flatbread as he walked forward, shaking his head with a bitter smile. “Following me, you’ve really suffered every hardship. You’ve never even had a proper meal.”

Li Diudiu’er asked curiously, “Then don’t you feel guilty?”

“Why should I feel guilty?”

“Master, your bag is full of money. Why won’t you treat me to one decent meal? If we keep walking, maybe we’ll run into a restaurant somewhere. You should buy me something good.”

“Spend money?”

The old Daoist snorted. “Not a chance.”

Li Diudiu’er sighed like an adult. “Is money really that important?”

“Of course it is.”

The old Daoist patted the pack on his back. “You’re still young. You don’t understand yet. You still don’t know what money can really buy. To you, money can only buy tasty food and pretty clothes. You haven’t reached the age where you understand its true use. Money... can buy life.”

“Buy life?”

Little Li Diudiu’er truly wasn’t old enough to understand such things. When his master said money could buy life, the only thing he could think of was buying other people’s lives. In this world, so many people had gone mad for money. If you paid enough, you could buy their lives and make them do anything—murder, arson...

So in little Li Diudiu’er’s eyes, money wasn’t a good thing. All the beauty it could bring amounted to nothing more than good food and new clothes.

“Yes, buy life.”

The old Daoist continued walking as he spoke. “When you can buy life, people become different.”

Little Li Diudiu’er asked, “Master, whose life are you trying to buy?”

The old Daoist paused for a moment, then realized his little disciple had misunderstood him. Smiling, he said, “You wouldn’t understand even if I explained.”

“That’s why I’m asking you. You’re my master. A master teaches and clears up confusion, so you should teach me.”

“I’m buying your life.”

The old Daoist flicked him on the forehead.

Little Li Diudiu’er rubbed his head. “Buying my life? Isn’t that easy? Roast chicken, roast duck, roast goose, braised stew with baked buns and tofu—those are all my life...”

The old Daoist saw him drooling as he spoke and burst into laughter. “What ambition!”

He asked Li Diudiu’er, “Disciple, do you have any dreams?”

“Dreams?”

Little Li Diudiu’er answered seriously, “Didn’t I just tell you?”

The old Daoist snorted with laughter. “Completely hopeless.”

He lifted his head and looked at the sky. “Buying life... actually isn’t that hard. As long as you have enough silver. And I’m almost there.”

Little Li Diudiu’er didn’t understand. Since his master clearly wasn’t really trying to buy his life, he was more curious about where exactly they were headed. Over the years, his master had always wandered back and forth within the seven counties of Youzhou, rarely ever going into Youzhou itself.

His master had said they shouldn’t go there too often. Youzhou was prosperous and splendid. The rich people in the city lived lives of luxury and excess. If little Li Diudiu’er saw too much of that, it wouldn’t be good for him. The people in the seven counties all lived about the same—better to see how ordinary people survived, because it would be useful in the future.

But yesterday his master had suddenly said they would stop wandering around the seven counties and go to a very, very big city instead. Li Diudiu’er had assumed it was Youzhou, but he remembered his master saying Youzhou was north of them, while they were currently heading southwest.

“Master, where exactly are we going?”

“Jizhou.”

“Jizhou?”

Little Li Diudiu’er had only heard the name before. His impression of a great city was basically whatever Youzhou looked like, so he asked, “Like Youzhou?”

“Much bigger than Youzhou.”

“Why are we going to Jizhou?”

“Because your life is there.”

“Master, did you pick me up in Jizhou?”

“No.”

“Then why do you say my life is there...”

“Silly child.”

The old Daoist walked as he spoke. “I’ve never hidden the truth from you. You’re not my child. I picked you up.”

Little Li Diudiu’er grinned. “I believe you’re the one I picked up... pfft, I mean I’m the one you picked up. A man like you could never have a woman anyway. What woman would ever fancy you?”

The old Daoist flicked his forehead again. As if recalling something, a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

“More than ten years ago, I was in Fangcheng County swindling people out of money... ahem, preaching the Dao. Right when a plague broke out. Too many people died. Your parents both died from the plague. At the time, people probably assumed you’d catch it too, so they threw you out of the city together with your family’s corpses. Outside the city there was a mass grave. People didn’t know how plague victims were supposed to be handled.”

“I thought someone had to do it. So I hired a cart, loaded it with lime, grabbed a hoe, and went out of the city. And there you were, tough as nails, bawling your lungs out in the middle of a pile of corpses. I buried the bodies and covered them with lime, then took you with me. Back then I figured I’d probably catch the plague too, and so would you. If an old man and a child died together at least we’d have company.”

He looked at little Li Diudiu’er, his eyes full of affection. “But the two of us are damn lucky.”

The old Daoist suddenly became inexplicably proud. “I even gave you your name. I only knew your family surname was Li, so I named you Li Diudiu’er. A lighter name means a longer life. Once we reach Jizhou and I finish my important business, I’ll give you a proper name. I’ve already thought of one—Li Chi. Chi as in ‘dominate the winds and clouds’... bah, Chi.”

“Bah.”

Little Li Diudiu’er laughed. “My stomach’s so empty there isn’t even a fart in it. If even farts can’t dominate the winds and clouds in my belly, how am I supposed to dominate the world?”

“I was just saying it casually. Why take it seriously? But once we get to Jizhou, a proper name will be important.”

The old Daoist shrugged. “You... just need to live well.”

Again, almost unconsciously, he reached back to touch the pack on his back. The money pouch inside bulged heavily. He had saved that money for years now. By his calculations, he was really close. Once he saved enough, he could buy this brat a different fate. But of course he wouldn’t explain any of that to him. Why should the kid understand so much? Loving him was enough.

The old man and the young boy followed the official road forward. They had already walked for more than two hours without seeing a single person. Bandits ran rampant through these seven counties. The common people had either fled, died, or become bandits themselves. When they weren’t bandits, they hated them for murder, arson, and every imaginable evil. But once they became bandits themselves, they committed the exact same atrocities.

People really were damn complicated. And fickle too.

“Master?”

“Mm?”

“I’m hungry again.”

“Drink water.”

“Mmm...”

Little Li Diudiu’er took a sip of water and looked ahead. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the sunlight blazed so fiercely that the whole world seemed distorted. Through the wavering heat, he vaguely saw something emerging from the twisted air ahead and jumped in fright.

Before he could react, his master yanked him aside. Then came a muffled thunderous sound rushing low across the ground. The old Daoist pressed down on Li Diudiu’er’s head, forcing him to lower it. Then the old Daoist himself clasped his hands and bowed his head. A cavalry squad in armor thundered past along the official road, the wind stirred by their warhorses sounding almost like dragon roars.

When the cavalry passed, they laughed at the sight of the pair—yellow-faced, skinny, ragged, and filthy. The dust kicked up by the horses made them look even more miserable.

“This world is wrong.”

One warhorse stopped in front of the two of them. On its back sat a young man who looked no older than seventeen or eighteen. He wore exquisitely crafted leaf armor, beautiful and refined. When he reined in his horse, the clinking of his armor sounded almost heavenly.

The young man frowned as he looked at them, seeming somewhat distressed.

“Daoists cultivate in peaceful times and only emerge in chaotic times to save the people. But these two Daoists are practically starving to death themselves—how are they supposed to save anyone?”

He extended a hand. “Give me the rations!”

A personal guard beside him removed a bundle and handed it over. Leaning down from horseback, he tossed it at Li Diudiu’er’s feet. “Take it and eat. Once you’re full, go back to your monastery and cultivate in peace. Walking the world won’t save anyone. The sickness isn’t in the people—it’s in this age itself. That’s not a sickness Daoists can cure. You’d be better off reciting a few more scriptures in your monastery and praying for Great Chu.”

The old Daoist immediately lowered his head respectfully. “We will pray for Great Chu, and also for our benefactor. May I ask your honored name? When we return, I will light an eternal lamp in your name.”

“No need.”

The young man laughed. “I don’t even know how long I’ll live, so forget the eternal lamp. Soldiers live and die unpredictably on the battlefield... Though you could light one for my troops. My name is Luo Jing, Commandant under General Luo Geng of Youzhou. Once you return, light an eternal lamp for the Yanyun Iron Cavalry of Youzhou and pray for us to wipe out the bandits!”

The old Daoist nodded. “I’ll remember. Many thanks, benefactor.”

Luo Jing laughed loudly. “In this world, there aren’t many people left who remember kindness.”

The old Daoist hesitated for a moment. “May I ask...”

“What?”

“Could I tell your fortune?”

“I’ve never believed in gods or spirits. Why bother with fortune-telling? Why would you want to read my fortune?”

Luo Jing asked curiously.

The old Daoist looked slightly embarrassed, yet somehow perfectly justified at the same time. “Because asking for money directly doesn’t sound very nice.”

Luo Jing froze briefly, then burst into laughter. “So you’re just a money-grubbing fellow. I thought you were some highly virtuous Daoist. Want money? I never carry any when I go out. Go ask someone else.”

He snapped the reins. “Hyah!”

The blood-red warhorse neighed and exploded forward. Hundreds of cavalrymen accelerated with him, hoofbeats roaring like thunder, their momentum overwhelming.

Watching him leave, the old Daoist sighed. “Such a wealthy family, yet he still wouldn’t part with any money. So stingy.”

“Who was that?”

Little Li Diudiu’er asked, then quickly added, “He looked so impressive!”

“Didn’t he just mention General Luo Geng of Youzhou? That’s his father. He’s the young general Luo Jing, famed as invincible on the northern frontier. Reputation truly doesn’t compare to meeting him in person... though his physiognomy isn’t good.”

Little Li Diudiu’er asked, “What’s wrong with it?”

“Excessive vigor brings bloody disaster.”

The old Daoist sighed and picked up the bundle of dry rations. “Weren’t you hungry? Eat.”

He looked toward the direction where the cavalry had disappeared, stayed silent for a while, then asked little Li Chi, “Do you envy him?”

Little Li Diudiu’er nodded. “Of course.”

The old Daoist grunted in acknowledgment. “Come on then. We’ll walk while envying him and eating.”