Mingmei Yip - Song of the Silk Road

He handed me the pouches.

“Thank you, Master. What are they?”

“Poems.”

“But I rarely read poems. I prefer novels.”

“Then start to read them. They’re novels in a pouch. Besides, don’t thank me, thank heaven. I’m only a messenger bringing you wisdom from above. Take them out to read when you are in trouble, or when you need to pacify your troubled mind.”

I nodded, feeling bewildered.

He continued, “In your life, the money star, shining strong and bright, complements with your transmigration star. That’s why you’re here in the Silk Road, seeking money, adventure.” He paused for seconds before adding, “And danger.”

The word “danger” gave me a chill.

“Miss Lin, you’ll become very rich and famous.”

“It’s very kind of you to say that, Master Soaring Crane. But I’m very poor and have no idea how to make money.” I lied. Being paid fifty thousand U.S. dollars for the trip with the prospect of getting three million later couldn’t be considered poor, after all.

I went on. “Master, I’ve been struggling financially and was helped out by a former professor. So, how am I going to make a lot of money?”

“I’m only telling you what will happen. ‘How’ is not my concern. Anyway, you’ll make lots of money with your own effort, not from another person.”

But I’d be inheriting three millions from someone else.

“However, your father–mother palace is not properly placed in your life’s map, which means your karmic connection with your parents is weak. Indeed very weak.”

I didn’t respond, thinking of the dead father I bitterly hated and the dead mother I dearly loved, one in hell and the other in heaven, I hoped.

Some silence passed and he continued, changing the course of the conversation. “Your so-called aunt, she’s both good and bad to you. When she came to me ten-odd years ago, she was desperate for help and guidance. But unfortunately she didn’t follow my advice. That’s why she has been suffering. The will of heaven is not to be slighted.”

“How is she suffering?”

“Both mentally and physically.” He penetrated my eyes with his sightless ones behind the dark glasses. “Miss Lin, you’re the only one who’ll be able to rescue her from the sea of suffering. You are her guiren .”

Of course I knew the term guiren— noble person. These are people, including strangers, you may encounter along your life’s path who will give you unconditional help, even saving your life. Simply put—angels. But how could a powerless young woman like me be Mindy Madison’s guiren?

The master’s powerful voice rose again in the small cell. “Someday you’ll understand what all this means. Meanwhile, you have to undergo a long, arduous journey. But don’t worry, your effort will be handsomely rewarded. But you have to be careful—very careful. Now please open the door for me.”

After I did, he yelled toward the entrance. “Ah Hung, is the soup ready?”

“Master, can Ah Hung hear you that far away?”

He nodded. “I’ve been summoning him like this for many years since I developed arthritis and can’t walk all the time to fetch him. After all these years his hearing is extremely acute.”

Soon Ah Hung materialized by the door, holding a tray. Carefully he laid down the two steaming bowls in front of us. Before he left, he leaned to whisper into my ear, “Miss Lin, very nutritious black chicken soup with very precious wild ginseng.”

Now that his disciple was in the room, the master was making an effort to lower his voice. “Ah Hung, do your job without boasting, especially not to our noble guests. Also, don’t whisper to any guest when there is nothing to hide in this land of purity. Go eat your own soup in the other room.”

“Yes, Master,” Ah Hung said, then winked at me as he dragged his small posterior out the door.

The master yelled to his back, “Ah Hung, how many times I’ve told you not to wink to our honorable guests, except small children?”

“Of course, Master!”

Was this decrepit old man really blind? Just then, as if to clear my doubt, Soaring Crane took off his glasses and cleaned them with a handkerchief.

“The steam of the soup mists my glasses,” he said, then looked up to stare at me with his sightless pupils—two cloudy white marbles like the eyes of a fish left under the sun for days.

I stared at him, trying to suppress an “Oh, my God!” and then quickly averted my glance. What if he could tell by his sixth, seventh, even eighth sense that I was staring at him? Although the soup was steaming hot, my body felt chilled.

“Please, Miss Lin,” he said, putting his glasses back on.

We began to eat the delicious and qi -filled soup. Soaring Crane made loud, slurping sounds, just what I had been severely criticized for as a child.

He spoke between sips. “Feel free to slurp and enjoy. This soup is cooked with many yang ingredients to generate a warming effect.”

I looked up from my bowl. “What yang ingredients?”

“Black chicken, wild ginger, dried dragon-eye pulp, and red berries cooked by fire from the raw wood dried in our courtyard for months under the sun. Ah Hung deliberately chose these ingredients to complement your yin nature.”

Could he tell that I had yin eyes?

After I drained the last drop, I said, “Master Soaring Crane, the soup is excellent and so is your consultation. I am very grateful that you generously gave me so much of your precious time. Now I think it’s time to stop bothering you and Ah Hung. I’ll… pay him on my way out.” Although Ah Hung had told me his master had stopped charging, I still thought I should offer to pay.

When I stood up and was turning to leave, Master Soaring Crane waved me to sit back down. “Wait a minute, Miss Lin. Please sit for a while.”

I sat down. Suddenly I was afraid he would ask for more money than I could comfortably afford.

But his question surprised me. “Are you wearing something around your neck?”

My hand involuntarily reached to touch Lop Nor’s pendant. “Yes, but how can you tell?” I immediately regretted my question, since he might take it as a remark of his blindness.

“Because I’ve been analyzing your qi since you’ve been in this room and realize that the strongest part of it comes from around your neck. You’re wearing white jade, right?”

“Yes, but how do you know it’s jade, and white?” Maybe he was only faking blindness after all! A charlatan! Then how to explain his cloudy, dead-fish eyes? Some kind of theatrical makeup?

“Miss Lin, jades can be hundreds or thousands of years old. So only jade can send out vibrations like this, not silver or gold, which is newly made by gold- and silversmiths. Since old jades have been absorbing all kinds of qi from the universe and from their different owners, they release very strong, complex vibrations.”

I touched Lop Nor’s pendant. “Master, what kind of vibrations has this pendant been sending out?”

“Please take it off and let me touch it.”

I slipped off the jade and handed it to the fortune-teller.

He caressed, rubbed, weighed, and bounced it in his pink, fleshy palm. Then he shook his head. “Miss Lin, better not wear this anymore.”

I protested. “But, Master, this is a very precious gift from a very dear friend!” I thought of the one-thousand- renminbi ivory bracelet thrown away like garbage by Keku. So, no, I was definitely not going to do the same with my dear departed friend’s precious family heirloom.

“Then more reason not to wear it. Because this person’s spirit is still very much attached to the necklace, so it will throw you off balance, especially during inauspicious moments like sickness, getting lost, being frightened.”