Chapter 168 — The Old Men
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
The Wasteland, and within it, Hidden Remnant Village.
The Headman, as always, sat slumped in a recliner at the village entrance alongside Master Dan, slowly sipping tea. Suddenly Master Dan turned and said, "Headman, you've been slumped like that for quite a while, haven't you? These past two days you've been slumped like that, and even when the darkness came you didn't stir, didn't go back to your room to sleep, did you? When I got up this morning, there you were, slumped in the same spot."
The Headman, lazy, eyes narrowed: "Master Dan, your heart is disordered. Ever since Shen'er left, your heart has been disordered."
Master Dan sneered: "My heart disordered? It's plainly your heart that's disordered! Look at me — I still wash and comb myself clean every day. You, on the other hand, unkempt and filthy, all but dead in that recliner."
The Headman said: "It was plainly you who carried me out to the village entrance yesterday morning, and then when evening came you forgot to carry me back inside — isn't that your heart being disordered? Something you do every day, and suddenly you forget to do it."
Master Dan laughed in fury: "I forgot to carry you back — can't you walk back yourself? Can't you fly back? What use is that heaven-and-earth-spanning cultivation of yours?"
The Headman was silent a moment, then said gloomily: "You know very well I have no legs. And no hands either..."
Master Dan was driven to madness. This dead old man had been left out in the darkness all last night, and neither the curses nor the monsters of the dark had managed to kill him, and he still had the face to say he had no legs.
He was just about to argue his case when he suddenly raised his head; the Headman too snapped alert at once, more spirited than ever, and said with a smile, "Is it not a joy to have friends come from afar? Daoist friend, you've shed a whole burden."
An old man and a youth were coming up from the lower reaches of the Surging River, arriving outside the village and walking toward it.
The Headman looked at Master Dan and said in a fluster, "Where's your comb? Don't hide it — I know you always carry a comb on you, right there in your breast! Hurry, bring it out. I haven't washed or combed in two days; how can I receive guests like this?"
Master Dan sneered and did not move.
The Headman said with an apologetic smile, "It's my fault — I've been too lazy to move these two days."
Master Dan handed him the comb; the Headman drove it with his primal essence and combed his hair, and at least it was somewhat tidy now.
The young Patriarch and Elder Dianxing walked over, halted, and exchanged greetings. The Headman smiled: "A crippled man cannot return the courtesy; I beg the daoist friend's pardon. Please, sit. Master Dan, tea."
The young Patriarch sat, glanced at Elder Dianxing standing beside him, and smiled: "I am no longer the Holy Sect's Patriarch; there's no need for so much formality. Sit down with us."
Elder Dianxing sat as well, took the bamboo basket from his back, and set it aside.
Master Dan fetched the tea set, boiled a fresh pot of water, dropped in the tea leaves, let it steep a little, and poured for the two of them.
"Master Dan brews it the southern way," the young Patriarch said with a smile.
Master Dan smiled: "I'm from the south, and I've grown used to southern tea. Northern tea is drunk for the way the tender buds rise and fall, sink and float; southern tea has a clear, bright body that shows a man his own heart. Each has its merits."
The young Patriarch smiled: "No wonder you two sit here so often. Headman, I've come to throw myself on your hospitality for a few days — what do you say?"
Before the Headman could answer, Master Dan clapped his hands and laughed: "Good, wonderful! Ever since Shen'er left, this old fellow has nearly bored me to death. Every day he lies there dead-slumped, saying nothing, moving not at all."