And so began my unexpected adventure.
Leaving the only home I had ever known at the ripe old age of nine, I embarked on a journey that would forever alter the course of my life.
My first taste of the outside world was both exhilarating and terrifying.
I gawked at the bustling crowds in the county town, my senses overwhelmed by a kaleidoscope of sights, smells, and sounds.
The train ride was a revelation—a roaring steel dragon that carried us across a landscape I could never have imagined.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we arrived in the sprawling metropolis of Yanbei.
If my family had harbored any lingering doubts about my master's legitimacy, one glimpse of his home would have instantly put them to rest.
Nestled in the heart of the city was not the dilapidated hovel they had no doubt envisioned, but a traditional courtyard house—elegant, spacious, and surprisingly serene.
Even more intriguing than the house itself was its other resident.
Huzi, my master's…well, I hesitate to call him a servant.
He was more like a protector, a guardian, though "gentle giant" didn't quite fit the bill either.
Built like a bear, Huzi had a booming voice and a perpetually serious expression.
A thick black beard covered his jaw, making his piercing gaze all the more intimidating.
Every time our eyes met, I would find myself involuntarily shrinking back.
And yet, beneath that gruff exterior beat the heart of a teddy bear.
His respect for my master was absolute, and his concern for my well-being was surprisingly…touching.
I had barely stepped foot in the house when he greeted us with a deep bow.
"Master! Young Master! Welcome home!"
My master, in his typical fashion, barely acknowledged Huzi's greeting. He simply waved a hand dismissively.
"See to the arrangements, Huzi. The apprenticeship ceremony will commence shortly."
"Of course, Master," he replied with a respectful nod. Then, turning to me, his expression softened. "Young Master, if you'll follow me."
He led me to a room where an extravagant feast awaited—steaming bowls of rice, platters piled high with exotic dishes I had never seen before, and enough food to feed a small army.
Apparently, even ascetics appreciated a good meal.
As I devoured every last bite, my stomach growling in protest, Huzi gave me a crash course on what it meant to be the disciple of Li Xuantong.
"You are incredibly fortunate, Young Master," he began, his voice surprisingly gentle.
" Do you have any idea how many would kill for this opportunity? People beg Master to take them on as his student. They offer him priceless treasures, challenge him to feats of strength and wisdom. He refuses them all. He accepts only one."
I shifted uncomfortably beneath his intense gaze.
Me?
What could he possibly see in me?
As far as I was concerned, my greatest skill was maintaining a consistent record of academic failure.
Maybe he had a thing for mediocrity?
Over the next few hours, Huzi patiently—and painstakingly— guided me through the elaborate choreography of the apprenticeship ceremony.
I was nine years old.
The only thing I should have been memorizing was the multiplication table, not ancient Taoist rituals involving incense, incantations, and enough bowing to make my head spin.
Just before sundown, Huzi escorted me to the ceremonial hall.
I was greeted by the sight of my master—transformed.
Gone was the tattered robe, replaced with a pristine white Taoist garment that seemed to shimmer in the fading light.
His hair and beard, usually an unruly mess, had been washed and combed, and he smelled…dare I say it…delightful.
Apparently, even holy men had standards when it came to ceremonial hygiene.
I had to hand it to him, he cleaned up nicely.
For the first time since our journey began, he actually resembled the wise, venerable master my family had—perhaps foolishly—imagined him to be.
Huzi guided me to stand before my master.
"Kneel," he instructed, his voice barely a whisper.
I obeyed, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest.
"Wu Jie," my master began, his voice resonating through the hall.
"This ceremony is more than just a formality. It is an acknowledgment of destiny— yours and mine—paths intertwined by forces beyond our comprehension."
He fixed me with a grave look.
"However, destiny is but the starting point. The path laid before you...that is yours to walk. And I must warn you, the way of the Qimen is fraught with peril. There are rules you must follow. Ancient rules, absolute rules. Defy them, and you will face consequences more terrifying than anything you can possibly imagine."
Even at nine years old, I knew he wasn't exaggerating.
The air around him crackled with power, with a darkness that sent shivers down my spine.
He continued, his voice like thunder, "First, the knowledge entrusted to you is a double-edged sword. Use it wisely. It is not to be used for selfish gain or for evil. "
I nodded mutely, clinging to his every word.
"Second, you will show your master unwavering respect. Disobedience will not be tolerated."
"Yes, Master," I mumbled, my voice barely a squeak.
"And third—" he paused, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "You know…I haven't quite figured out the third rule yet. We'll table that for now."
My mouth almost hit the floor.
"You haven't figured it out yet? But— but this is the part where you set the ground rules! The part where you tell me what I can and cannot do!"
Even Huzi seemed taken aback by this unexpected turn of events.
Master, however, simply chuckled.
"Details, details! Don't interrupt. Now, as I was saying, the Qimen School is the most prestigious—and secretive—Fengshui school in all of China. For generations, our knowledge has been passed down, master to a single disciple. And now…"— his eyes twinkled—"that disciple is you, young Wu Jie. It seems my search is finally over."
For the briefest moment, I felt a pang of guilt for my earlier resentment.
The old man sounded genuinely…pleased.
Maybe taking me on as his student wouldn't be such a hardship after all.
"Now, should you ever decide to take on a disciple of your own, " he added, barely suppressing a smile, "remember, only one. It's the rule."
I nodded solemnly, trying to ignore the growing sense of dread pooling in my stomach.
"Excellent! Let the ceremony commence!"
And with that, we were off, swept away in a flurry of carefully choreographed movements—bows, offerings, chanting.
I stumbled through it as best I could, equal parts awestruck and utterly terrified.
By the time I found myself holding a steaming cup of tea, an offering to my officially minted master, I was officially a member of the Qimen School.
"Wu Jie," Master said, a rare smile gracing his lips. "You are now my disciple. And one day, when I'm gone, you will take my place as the grandmaster of the Qimen School."
My stomach lurched.
For some reason, that didn't sound quite as appealing as it should.
What was the point of inheriting a legacy if you were the only one around to appreciate it?
Grandmasters were supposed to have legions of adoring students, not… well, just me.
As the weight of my new reality settled upon me, Huzi showed me to my quarters—a small, Spartan room, yet far more comfortable than anything I'd known back in Jiushan Village.
As night fell and the house grew quiet, a wave of homesickness washed over me.
I missed my grandfather, my parents, even Chubby.
I wondered if he was still walking sideways, like a crab that had lost its way.