Chapter 22: Bidding Farewell to the Old and Welcoming the New

During the Lunar New Year, the Huai'an Prefecture was a scene of jubilant celebration. Red lanterns hung along the streets, the air was fragrant with the aroma of various snacks, and a dazzling array of trinkets filled the stalls. Shops of every trade were bustling with activity; groups of children darted through the crowd clutching candied haws, while endless processions of lion and dragon dancers paraded by.

There were vendors selling paintings, charcoal, firewood, noodles, hairpins, and porcelain. Cosmetics and powders were found to the east, cakes and tea snacks to the west, meats to the south, and New Year couplets to the north. In the center, people jostled shoulder to shoulder, greeting one another with cupped hands. Young couples, elderly women, spirited youths, and graceful maidens—all wore expressions as radiant as peach blossoms in the spring.

Since leaving home, this was Meng Xiaoli’s first time spending the New Year in a strange land, and her heart felt a complex mix of emotions. Old Man Dugu, however, remained carefree. He wandered about, peering left and right, occasionally holding a hairpin against his head or picking up a box of rouge to admire in a mirror. Seeing the vendor’s disdainful gaze behind him, Meng Xiaoli asked with distaste, "What kind of hobby is this?" Dugu replied dismissively, "What do you know? I’m buying these for someone."

"For someone? Who? I’ve been with you for so long and haven't seen you with any sweetheart," Meng Xiaoli retorted, following close behind.

Dugu idly watched the street, rubbing his hands together. "Miss Feng'er from the Ruyi Brothel, of course. I've been tight on cash lately and haven't visited in a while. I need to bring a gift to make amends."

Meng Xiaoli’s brow furrowed, her lip curling in resignation. "She sees eight hundred men a day; how would she remember a crusty old man like you?"

"Eh?" Dugu tilted his head, shooting a sidelong glance at her. "No personal attacks allowed. An old man is fine, but why add 'crusty'?" He continued walking, his eyes scanning for beautiful women as he added, "If I pay, she’ll remember. Even if she doesn't, that’s even better—every visit will feel brand new."

Meng Xiaoli muttered to herself, "I never thought much about the hardships of courtesans before, but knowing you, I realize how miserable they must be. What a helpless existence."

Hearing this, Dugu clutched his chest, grabbed Meng Xiaoli by the shoulders, and feigned outrage. "You’re trying to kill me off so you can inherit my purse!" He jiggled his money bag in front of her. Surprised, Meng Xiaoli asked, "Didn't the silver we got from the Guanlie Gang run out long ago? Where did this come from?"

"Ever heard of the Gambling Saint of Huai'an?" Dugu said with a smug grin.

Meng Xiaoli dawned on the realization, pointing at the purse. "So you won it? You’re truly incredible." Dugu tucked the purse away and laughed, "I played dice with the Gambling Saint, and he let me win on purpose."

"Why?"

"Because he couldn't beat me."

Had Meng Xiaoli not known she couldn't beat him either, she would have drawn her sword right then. Dugu continued ahead, self-satisfied, "I’m off to find my ethereal Miss Feng'er. You’re on your own." With a flick of his body, he vanished into the crowd.

Left alone in the bustling street, Meng Xiaoli felt abandoned and had nowhere to go. "That crusty old man, prioritizing romance over friendship," she grumbled. Just as she turned to leave, a flash of red appeared. Dugu had returned. He stood before her, stroking his beard. "Look, I’ve been thinking. I’m always alone during the New Year, and since you’re here, I shouldn't leave you behind to enjoy myself. Let’s buy some meat, trade for some wine, and find a place to have a New Year’s Eve dinner together."

He wandered off, muttering to himself, "How do these noodles clump together? What kind of chaotic ingredients are they putting in these fillings?"

After much searching, the two finally bought a portion of steaming hot dumplings from a shop, found an old house, and lit a fire. Sitting by the flames, accompanied by the sound of firecrackers echoing from all directions, they drank wine and ate dumplings. Across the fire, Meng Xiaoli asked, "Don't you have a bunch of friends? Why are you alone on New Year's?" Dugu, enjoying his meal, replied, "Girl, everyone goes home to their wives and children for the New Year. Why would they spend it with a crusty old man like me?"

Meng Xiaoli took a sip of wine. "Isn't it lonely, spending the New Year by yourself?" Dugu sighed, "Being alone is only lonely when the whole country is celebrating with their families. Other than that, it’s nothing."

Meng Xiaoli didn't respond, but suddenly said, "My birthday is in two days." Dugu didn't even look up. "How old?" "Twenty-three," she replied. Dugu teased, "Twenty-three and you’re celebrating a big birthday? I’m sixty and I’ve never celebrated mine!"

"I was just saying," Meng Xiaoli quickly clarified. "I didn't say I wanted to celebrate."

Dugu finished his last dumpling, chewing as he asked, "What do people eat for their birthday?" "Longevity noodles," she replied.

Dugu drank some wine and pondered. "How long are these longevity noodles?" Meng Xiaoli giggled, "They're just regular noodles, not particularly long."

"Who says?" Dugu stood up and paced. "I heard that longevity noodles are a single, extremely long strand, and the birthday person has to eat it all in one breath for good luck." Meng Xiaoli asked, "Who told you that?"

"Miss Feng'er," he said. Seeing Meng Xiaoli’s helpless expression, he waved a hand vaguely. "Never mind who said it. The noodle issue is on me."

Two days later, Dugu found a house, paid the owners to use their kitchen, and spent the entire day struggling with the dough. After several failed attempts where the noodles broke, he finally managed to knead a single, long, continuous strand. Trembling with care, he boiled it without breaking it, arranged it in a bowl, and served it to Meng Xiaoli.

Meng Xiaoli had waited until she was exhausted, even dozing off in her chair with drool running down her chin. When Dugu called her, she sat up with a start, and seeing the steaming bowl of longevity noodles—adorned with fresh greens and tender meat—she let out a gasp of surprise.

Looking up at the white-haired old man—a martial arts master and legendary hero who was both teacher and father to her—wearing an apron and covered in flour, her heart softened. This steaming bowl of noodles gave her a profound sense of warmth amidst her harsh, wandering life. She covered her mouth, her eyes welling up with tears. Suddenly, Dugu untied his apron and teased, "Is it that bad? You’re going to throw up before you even eat?"

Meng Xiaoli waved her hands. "I’m just moved. If only one could have a wish granted on their birthday," she said, picking up her chopsticks.

Dugu leaned back, wiping the flour from his face. "I’ll grant you that right today. Tell me, besides wanting me to take you as an apprentice, what is your wish?" Meng Xiaoli bit onto the end of the noodle, looked at him, and smirked. "I wish to master your martial arts." Knowing she was exploiting his words, Dugu didn't back down. "If you can finish this longevity noodle in one breath, I’ll take you as my apprentice."

After half a year of pestering him, Meng Xiaoli finally heard him relent. Overjoyed, she declared, "Even if I choke to—" she stopped herself from saying 'death'—"I will finish this noodle."

She began to slurp the noodle, chewing as she went. Watching her, Dugu thought back to when he had saved her on a whim; he had never wanted to be tied down, yet this girl had persistently followed him for months, and they had grown comfortable with each other. Perhaps as one grows older, the weight of loneliness becomes harder to bear. Had she asked earlier, he might have refused, but now, he truly felt a reluctance to part and had genuinely considered taking her on.

Meng Xiaoli managed to swallow the entire noodle without it breaking. She wiped her mouth and asked, "I did it! Master, when do we formally perform the apprenticeship ceremony?"

Seeing her finish, Dugu wasn't surprised. He stared at her with a piercing intensity. Usually flighty and unruly, his sudden seriousness made Meng Xiaoli shudder. She checked herself, feeling uneasy. "What? Is something wrong?"

Dugu finally spoke. "Why do you want to learn martial arts?" Meng Xiaoli rolled her eyes. "I’ve been bullied throughout my journey. If I’m strong, no one will dare touch me. I want to live better and be stronger."

Dugu nodded in understanding. "Mastering a martial art takes at least ten years. Internal energy must be accumulated day by day. There are no shortcuts; only day-in, day-out diligent practice. Moves can be varied, but internal energy requires a steady, disciplined path. You’ll be thirty by the time you succeed. Can you handle ten years of bitterness? Is it worth sacrificing the best years of your youth?"

Though she knew the path would be long, the mention of 'ten years' startled her. Yet, she replied firmly, "If I don't learn, the next fifty years will be just as miserable. Why not spend these ten years in hardship? I don't fear the time; I have to live day by day anyway."

Dugu shook his head. "If ten years leads to success, that’s fine. But what if it’s all for nothing?" Meng Xiaoli asked, "If one focuses on one thing, how could they not succeed?"

Dugu replied coldly, "Martial artists are everywhere under heaven, but those who truly succeed are few. Not all effort is rewarded; so many are still languishing in mediocrity."

Meng Xiaoli pondered. If these ten years were a mistaken pursuit? She had no choice. "I have no other option but to work harder."

Dugu finally nodded. "But I must be clear: first, your constitution is poor. Second, your foundation is weak. The mediocre techniques of the Xuanmo Sect are a waste of time; one or two exchanges and your moves are exposed. Furthermore, you and your husband both joined the sect, and yet your skills were inferior to his—this proves your natural talent is lacking. You also missed the prime age for training. Even if you learn, it’s unlikely you will achieve much. I fear it will be a waste of your time."