Chapter Thirty-Three: Mountains and Rivers Topple

Meng Xiaoli kept Old Master Dugu company, conversing deeply until dawn. Wishing to sit in the courtyard, Old Master Dugu was helped by Meng Xiaoli into a rattan chair, where he leaned back, gazing at the scenery beyond.

Meng Xiaoli crouched beside him and asked, "Master, is there anywhere else you wish to go? I will carry you; even to the ends of the earth, I will carry you."

Old Master Dugu waved his hand, smiling. "I have roamed for a lifetime; I have seen enough and I am tired. It is all just mountains and rivers, after all. Only in my twilight years have I realized that the most beautiful scenery is the person by one’s side." As he spoke, he lowered his head and reached out a withered hand to stroke Meng Xiaoli’s cheek. She placed her hand over his, looking up to see that his eyes had turned slightly red.

With tear-filled eyes and a choked voice, Meng Xiaoli asked, "Master, do you have any remaining regrets?" Old Master Dugu looked up at the azure sky and drifting clouds for a long time before speaking softly. "Having lived nearly seventy years, roaming north and south, I have seen thousands of vistas. Yet, they were all but fleeting joys. Only when the time comes to truly depart do I see things clearly: the wind is beautiful, the rain is beautiful, the sunny days and the heavy snows are beautiful, the sky, the flowers, the grass, and the changing seasons are all beautiful. It is a pity that it takes the final glance to realize this beauty. I often wonder what my life would have been like had I stayed with my first love. Not being able to spend a lifetime with her is a regret, but I believe she lived well—prosperous and peaceful until the end, so what is there to regret? I have lived a free and unconstrained life; though I have no soulmate or descendants, I have had you to accompany me through my final years. What more could I ask for? My only concern is that in the days to come, you will not fare well on your own."

Tears rolled down Meng Xiaoli’s face as she asked, "If you had never met me, or never reached out to save me, perhaps you would still be happy and free. Meeting me may not have been a good thing for you."

Old Master Dugu replied, "From toddling steps to the vigor of youth, from the bloom of life to the frailty of old age, from joy to the pursuit of joy—our worries grow, and the things beyond our control multiply. No one remains forever carefree and happy. We live within the laws of nature and are tormented by them as well. Meeting you was my happiness, and I willingly exchanged my freedom and ease for it. So, you must promise me never to blame yourself; only then can I rest in peace."

Meng Xiaoli nodded, overcome with sorrow. "We were but strangers who met by chance, yet you poured everything you had into me." She bowed her head onto his knees, savoring their final moments together. A cool breeze stirred their hair. They sat in silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence. As Meng Xiaoli held his hand, she felt it becoming smoother and more delicate. She looked up, and to her shock, the withered hand was now free of wrinkles. She looked at his face, and the lines began to vanish; his complexion turned rosy, his hair and beard darkened, and his cloudy eyes grew clear. It was as if she were seeing him in his prime—the vigorous Old Master Dugu, leaning back in the rattan chair, gazing at the sky with a gentle, warm smile.

Suddenly, Old Master Dugu’s eyes brightened. He straightened up, brimming with vitality, and leapt from the chair with delight. Pacing the courtyard, he exclaimed, "I have realized it! I have realized it..."

While Meng Xiaoli was still stunned by the sight of him in his youth, Old Master Dugu turned, gripped her shoulders, and said joyfully, "I have realized the ninth level of internal energy: it is 'letting go.' Let go of all the tangled thoughts, let go of the gaze of the world, let go of every worldly desire. You must remember: the ninth level is letting go—letting go of everything in the past and starting anew. That is the secret to mastering the ninth level."

Then, Old Master Dugu ran off in a frenzy, shouting, "To let go is to be free! I am free! I have found freedom; I have finally attained freedom!" As his cries echoed, louder and louder, Meng Xiaoli followed. Old Master Dugu turned back, laughing, and said to her, "Do not grieve for me. I have attained freedom. Once I depart, this body is but flesh and bone; my soul is liberated. You need not bury me. Place my body upon the high mountains, let it be eroded by the wind and frost, and let it return to nature. Remember this, remember this well."

With that, he ran to a high mountain, lay on his side, and gazed at the vast world. He closed his eyes peacefully. Almost instantly, his black hair turned white again, wrinkles covered his body, and the color faded from his face.

***

Meng Xiaoli kept watch by his side, clutching his body tightly. She realized then that it had been but a momentary resurgence of life. He had left her after all. She burst into uncontrollable, heart-wrenching sobs, her cries echoing across the rivers, lakes, seas, grasslands, and forests.

Unable to accept his death, Meng Xiaoli insisted on guarding his remains. As she held him, an auspicious knot slipped from his robes. It was one she had tied for him on his birthday years ago. She had thought he disliked it because of his indifferent reaction, never knowing that in his life of simplicity, where he possessed nothing but his wine gourd, he had cherished this small gift, keeping it in his breast until his final breath.

Meng Xiaoli wept for three days and three nights, from loud, agonizing wails to silent, shuddering sobs, like a helpless child who had lost the way home.

Gradually, as she grew calm, she understood that some people are determined to leave, and no amount of wealth or effort can hold them back. Yet, the more she understood, the more the sobs returned, and the deeper the ache in her heart became.

Following his last wishes, she did not bury him. She left his wine gourd and the auspicious knot beside his body, and wrapped herself in the red outer robe he had always worn. She watched him lying peacefully on the mountain peak, still fantasizing that he might wake at any moment.

Looking around, she saw eagles circling in the sky and wolves crouching below. She knew they had come to claim him. Gazing at his body, she whispered, "Master, you sought freedom all your life and wished not to be buried in the earth. Only at the end did you grasp the true meaning of freedom. Though your soul has departed, I shall fulfill your final wish. Let the eagles carry your flesh to soar through the nine heavens, and let the wolves carry your bones across the vast wilderness. This must be the freedom you desired. Your soul, now formless, is everywhere. From now on, wherever I go, I will have your company." With this, she found a sliver of solace. She took one last look at him and turned to descend the mountain.

Meng Xiaoli stayed alone in the cabin they had shared for days. She would wake from dreams, frantic, searching everywhere for him. She wandered in and out of his room, sleeping on his daybed in hopes of finding his lingering warmth. Often, she would wake in the middle of the night to weep, panicked and lost. She ran across the mountains and ridges, shouting his name at every peak, before wandering aimlessly through the streets and alleys.

With disheveled hair and a lost, vacant expression, wearing his red robe, a bone-whip at her waist, and a bone-handled umbrella on her back, she looked like a madwoman. Pedestrians would avoid her, keeping their distance.

She entered a tavern and asked the owner, "Do you have the bitterest wine?" The owner looked her up and down, puzzled. "Why would you want bitter wine? No one ever asks for that."

Meng Xiaoli clutched her chest and sighed, her body swaying. "My heart is so bitter; I wish to replace it with a taste even more bitter." The owner smiled. "Then you have come to the right place. I recently brewed a bitter apricot wine that no one likes, so I kept it aside. Let me pour you some." He filled a wine gourd.

Meng Xiaoli gripped the red robe and sighed, "My master loved wine as well." The owner asked, "What kind of wine did he like?" Meng Xiaoli smiled bitterly. "Any wine, as long as it suited his palate. His gourd was always filled with something different." The owner handed her the wine, saying, "If you ever need more, just come to me. I have everything here." Meng Xiaoli smiled faintly and paid.

She wandered the streets, taking a sip of the bitter apricot wine. It was light and flavorless—hardly the bitter wine she sought. She realized that no bitterness in this world could soothe the pain in her heart. She drank it like water until she was hopelessly intoxicated, wandering aimlessly until she collapsed in a street corner.

Playful children threw stones at her, daring to touch her black umbrella and pull her hair, making faces at her. Lost in her own grief, she barely noticed. Soon, bored men began to gather, teasing her. One reached out to push back her hair, laughing to his companions, "Not bad at all. If she were cleaned up, she’d be quite a beauty." The others jeered.

A prostitute, having nothing better to do, crouched beside her and asked, "Girl, do you have any silver? My life is so hard, I have nothing, and I’m about to be sold." She pretended to wipe away tears with a handkerchief. Meng Xiaoli looked at the woman, then at the men gathered behind her.

She stood up abruptly, startling the woman, who jumped back. Meng Xiaoli grabbed her wrist, took the few remaining copper coins from her pocket, and pressed them into the woman's hand. "Take this to buy your freedom!" The woman looked at the coins, let out a sharp laugh, and turned to the men, shouting, "Look! This fool gave me her money!" She opened her hand to show them. "Look at this money the fool gave me!"

Other men crowded around, feigning pity to beg for money. Seeing that her kindness was met with mockery, Meng Xiaoli felt a wave of despair. She tossed the remaining coins into the air and laughed loudly, "Take it! Take it all!"

The crowd scrambled to pick up the coins. Seeing them fighting over the scraps, Meng Xiaoli laughed, swaying as she drank from her wine gourd, and walked away from the chaos.