Chapter 12 — Adventure in the Cave, Part One

"Is it really worth making such a fuss over?" Wei Zhao shook his head. Looking at the delicacies on the table, he thought to himself, It doesn't look like they'll be coming down to eat, so all this should be mine. He picked up his chopsticks and, attacking from left and right, swept through the four dishes and the bowl of soup like a whirlwind scattering clouds.

Gu Mengyao returned to her room and flung herself onto the bed. She felt utterly miserable and deeply wronged. Why should this happen to her? How could her first kiss vanish just like that? If it had been a handsome boy, that would have been one thing; but of all people, it had to be Wei Zhao, that country bumpkin, that backwoods hick.

"Xiaoshu, tell me, why am I so unlucky?" Gu Mengyao couldn't hold back her aggrieved sobs any longer. Earlier, out there, with Wei Zhao around, she hadn't wanted to let him see her make a fool of herself, so she had choked back her feelings—tears had spilled down her face, but she had made no sound. Now that only she and Shen Yushu were left, she no longer cared about appearances.

"There, there, Sister Yaoyao, don't be sad. At least it was only an indirect kiss, not lip to lip. He didn't really get any advantage out of it, did he?" Shen Yushu, for her part, thought: At most you swallowed a little of that fellow's spit—and he didn't swallow any of yours.

If Shen Yushu had said nothing, Gu Mengyao might have been all right; but once she spoke, Gu Mengyao felt even more wronged. If it had been a real kiss, she could have accepted it. As it was, she had suffered the loss without gaining a single benefit; Wei Zhao had got no advantage out of it, so he would never feel sympathy or guilt, and she could only chalk it all up to sheer bad luck.

"No, I've made up my mind. Tomorrow I'll tell Daddy: in this house, it's either him or me!" Gu Mengyao said bitterly. "I absolutely will—"

Gu Mengyao had cried herself tired and complained herself tired, and after grumbling for a while, she drifted into a dazed sleep. Shen Yushu shook her head, lay down beside her, and thought: It's just a little saliva, that's all. It's no big deal—you're not going to get pregnant from it. Is it really worth making such a fuss?

...

After finishing his meal, Wei Zhao had also braced himself for a scolding. There was no help for it—who told him his status was so lowly? If this had been the old society, he would have been a servant, and making the young lady unhappy might have brought down who knew what punishment.

But he waited a long time and still no one came down. Wei Zhao cleared away the meal boxes from the table, then returned to his own room. It was already past nine; Gu Mengyao and the others had probably gone to sleep and wouldn't be coming down again.

After washing his face and brushing his teeth, Wei Zhao locked the door from the inside, sat down on the bed, and began to cultivate the Xuanyuan Dragon-Commanding Art. This technique had an extraordinary origin: he had discovered it inside a mountain cave.

He remembered it clearly: when he was eight years old, on a night of the full moon, the old man had called him to the summit of Xixing Mountain to test how much his martial skill had improved.

Wei Zhao had no idea why the old man would summon him to the mountaintop in the middle of the night to test his skills, but under the old man's long-standing high-handed rule, he obediently followed him up the mountain.

After only two exchanges, Wei Zhao could clearly feel that something was wrong. This was no test—the old man was striking for all he was worth. Just as Wei Zhao was about to say something, a tremendous force struck his backside, and the old man kicked him viciously down into the valley.

Wei Zhao heard wind whistling past his ears as he flew through the sky like Ultraman in a cartoon. It was a long while before he came crashing far below, landing with a heavy thud.

He felt as though his entire skeleton were coming apart. Although, ever since he was three, the old man had had him soak his whole body in Chinese herbal medicine every day to strengthen his bones and constitution, the fall from such a high peak still knocked him thoroughly senseless, and he passed out.

Looking in the direction where Wei Zhao had fallen, Old Man Wei shook his head and sighed: "Xiaoyi, it's not that your grandfather is hard-hearted. The truth is, this chance, once lost, will never come again. The cave gate opens only once every five years, on the full-moon night of Mid-Autumn. If you don't get in this time, you'll have missed the best age for cultivation..."

After who knew how long, Wei Zhao slowly came to. He first cursed Old Man Wei roundly for being so heartless, then pushed himself up. There was no use cursing at a time like this, though. He checked his body, and only after finding nothing seriously wrong did he get to his feet.

But the sight before him made Wei Zhao gasp in astonishment. In front of him stood an enormous mountain gate, simple in design yet overwhelming in grandeur. Its vermilion lacquer gleamed in the moonlight, and the golden door rings upon it glittered with dazzling brilliance.

It looked like the dwelling place of immortals in myth. Above the immense gate hung a plaque bearing four large characters: "Xuanyuan Grotto."

What place is this? Wei Zhao's breathing grew quick. He had lived on Xixing Mountain for many years, yet he had never once heard that such a place lay at the mountain's base.

Although Wei Zhao didn't know why he had stumbled his way here, or how the old man's kick had so conveniently landed him right at the mouth of the cave, he still felt something familiar—a sense of déjà vu, as if he had been here before in a dream.

But no matter how hard he racked his brains, he couldn't figure out when he had ever been here. He steadied himself, then instinctively walked toward the gate, as if some force were drawing him onward.

When he reached the cave entrance, Wei Zhao instinctively pushed at the door with his hand. To his disappointment, it didn't budge an inch. He frowned, then pulled at the door with all his strength—still it did not move in the slightest.

Just as Wei Zhao, somewhat discouraged, was about to turn and leave, something strange happened. He saw that the tightly shut cave gate was slowly opening.

Wei Zhao nearly jumped out of his skin; he thought something was coming out of the cave, and he was quick to dodge to one side, his eyes fixed hard on the opening. But though he waited a long while, nothing emerged. What he could see, however, was the inside of that cave, and he saw it with perfect clarity.

It was an enormous hall. No lamps burned anywhere within it, yet it shone as brilliantly as day. By what means it gave off such a dazzling light, he could not begin to guess: whatever it was, it lit the whole of that great hall as bright as could be.

The spectacle before him left Wei Zhao gaping, his mouth wide open. There was no word for what he felt just then but awe. Only after he had made certain that no living thing stirred in the hall did he venture cautiously toward the open stone door.

With every step, Wei Zhao warily glanced around him, and only once he was sure no danger lurked did he move on. Then again, that was because he had been so young in those days, his curiosity about things that much keener; the Wei Zhao of later years might not have been so impulsive.

Still, then again, had it not been for Wei Zhao's curiosity and recklessness back then, the strokes of fate and coincidence that followed would never have come to pass.

~~~

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