They were all in it together.
The shills wedged in between the trickster gambler and the people placing bets to set the mood, and even the tout who had brought us here—they were all on the same side.
Everyone besides them were people who had already lost their money, or people who were about to.
“Now then, if you guess which bowl the die is in, you’ll receive three times your stake!”
The gambler was a small middle-aged man, but his eyes were as sharp as any martial artist’s.
Father asked me,
“Do you have money?”
“You don’t?”
Father nodded.
“I’ve had no reason to carry any.”
Well, of course. When would the Heavenly Demon ever have occasion to take out a coin pouch?
I could not let such a precious chance to tease Father pass me by.
“If you lose Uncle Hwi and me, you won’t even be able to buy yourself a meal. Then you’ll have to dine and dash, or leave that sword as collateral before you eat.”
Just imagining Father in such a state was amusing.
“If you’re done teasing me, money.”
Father held out his hand.
I took one nyang from the coin pouch inside my robes and handed it to him.
“Bet carefully! On this floor, that man is both the Sword God and the God of Gambling. That hand is faster than our eyes, I tell you.”
Of course, he could not evade Father’s eyes. I was only saying it for the swindlers to hear.
“Now then, I’ll mix them.”
The man opened each bowl one by one to show that there was nothing inside, then placed the die he was holding into one of them.
Open, close, this way, that way—his hands did not move too quickly, and that made it all the more confusing and suspicious.
At last, the man’s hands stopped.
“Now then, where will you place your bet?”
Father set one nyang down in front of the middle bowl.
Perhaps this was the first street gamble of Father’s life.
“Is there no one else? Then I’ll open it.”
When the man opened the middle bowl, the die was there.
The hand was not faster than the eye.
“You have good eyes.”
The gambler remained composed.
Was that composure because he had yet to properly display his skill? Or was it a strategy of letting Father win a little at first before eventually stripping him bare?
The man who had been touting came over as well and needlessly praised Father.
“Master martial artist, you truly have good eyes.”
Father did not even look at him. What held Father’s interest now were those three white bowls.
“Now, I’ll mix them again!”
The gambler mixed the die once more. The die darted dazzlingly between the bowls.
This time, Father chose the right.
“Is there no one else?”
Again, Father was the only one to bet.
When the bowl Father had chosen was opened, the die was there.
When he guessed correctly two times in a row, the onlookers let out low exclamations.
Father’s third choice.
This time, too, he chose the bowl with the die.
It was then that I saw it. The gambler had grown slightly flustered.
He had clearly induced his opponent to choose another side, but it had not worked.
At the same time, I saw this as well: the pleased smile resting at the corners of Father’s mouth. Father was enjoying playing around with these fellows right now.
“Father! You’ve won three times in a row.”
The people watching began to show genuine interest.
The gambler mixed the die again. This time, his movements were even more careful.
“You got it again!”
At that, those around us exclaimed in admiration and cheered. They were not shills, but true spectators.
From the tout to the shills, the signs of panic on their faces were plain. Because that gambler probably never allowed anyone to guess correctly four times in a row.
While swift glances passed among them, the die was mixed again.
On the fifth round, the other people also followed Father’s choice.
Father got it right again. Applause poured in from every direction. Now even passersby gathered to watch.
The gazes directed at Father. Until now, he had only ever received gazes filled with reverence and fear—had he ever received the expectant eyes of marketplace spectators like this? Of course not. These people would never have been able to come this close to him.
“Now, mix them again.”
Father was enjoying himself purely. If he had harbored ill will toward them, he would not have continued betting only one nyang at a time.
Or he could have made them suffer a much greater disgrace.
What if he had lost ten nyang, twenty nyang at first, over and over, and then later placed a draft worth a thousand nyang on the table? If they happily accepted it, and he guessed correctly then?
Squandering their money would not be the issue. They would try not to pay, and that would result in them losing their lives as well.
But Father did not do that. He simply kept betting one nyang at a time.
When he guessed correctly on the sixth round, the spectators cheered, and when he even got the seventh, the gambler’s expression hardened completely.
In the end, the tout came over and spoke obliquely.
“Um, how about stopping now?”
Father looked at him. Just what kind of feelings did Father hold as he looked at them?
I could not know that, but in any case, it was certain that he had not started this to torment them. As the words implied, it had simply looked amusing, and he had enjoyed it for a short while.
“Very well.”
Father handed me all the money he had won so far.
“Let’s eat dinner with this.”
“With this much, we could enjoy a banquet.”
Then the gambler spoke.
“Why not wager all the money you’ve won today and play one round?”
At that, the tout was startled and approached him, whispering something. It seemed to be telling him not to get worked up and to end it, but the gambler did not.
There was no way Father would turn away from such a situation.
“Mix them.”
Given the circumstances, would the gambler not use his trump card? A method by which he absolutely could not lose.
Three overturned bowls.
Father chose the middle. Since all the money he had won so far was at stake, the sum was fairly large.
Seeing the gambler’s supremely confident expression, it was certain the die was not in the middle.
“Now then, I’ll open it.”
The instant the man opened the middle bowl, his eyes went wide.
In the place that should have been empty, the die was there.
Even his final trick had not worked.
Not only the gambler, but also the tout and the onlookers were all shocked. They could not have imagined he would guess even this last one correctly. The spectators cheered.
“As expected! My father is the best!”
I said to the gambler,
“Now, pay up.”
For a moment, the gambler said nothing, as though his soul had left him.
“Please wait just a moment.”
The tout’s eyes rolled this way and that. The instant they thought the money was too precious to hand over, their fate would split apart.
At last, the gambler took money from the coin pouch inside his robes and handed it over.
“Here it is.”
This gambler had lost the match with money at stake, but he had won the match with his life at stake.
“How in the world did you do that?”
Father accepted the money and replied,
“Have you ever told anyone else your technique? I am the same.”
At Father’s answer, I laughed out loud. It was the first time I had seen Father say such a thing to a gambler.
But the surprise did not end there.
Father returned half of the money he had won to the gambler.
“Why are you giving half back?”
At the gambler’s question, Father answered quietly,
“There will be people whom, on occasion, you must let go by returning their money. When that time comes, return half and send them away.”
At that moment, Father’s eyes changed. They were no longer the soft eyes with which he had been playing along with swindlers.
It was a heavy gaze that a mere gambler could not bear.
The moment he saw those eyes, the gambler’s head lowered of its own accord.
“I will keep that promise without fail!”
Leaving him behind with his head deeply bowed, we resumed walking.
“Amazing.”
“Amazing, my foot. He won’t keep the promise anyway.”
Father did not believe that gambler’s promise.
“He will keep it.”
“Once or twice, perhaps. Even so, in the end, he will forget the fear of this moment.”
Father fundamentally did not believe in people. Much less would he believe a street gambler.
You are right, Father. Perhaps that may be so. But he might also keep that promise for the rest of his life. You only say that because you do not know how terrifying your eyes are.
“Then why did you give him a chance?”
After a brief pause, Father answered.
“Because I am in a good mood today.”
The moment I heard those words, I stopped walking.
Could his mood possibly be as good as mine right now?
As good as mine, when I was seeing Father look this happy for the first time? As good as mine, when I had heard him express that feeling to me?
“Since I won money, dinner is on me.”
“Why don’t we buy that dinner and eat it while riding in a carriage?”
Father looked at me, then soon nodded.
He had understood what I meant.
That gambler had acknowledged defeat obediently, but the tout might feel that money was too precious and release knife-wielders at night. On top of that, they had seen that our coin pouches were heavy.
And if we eliminated those men, then someone else behind them might come running. Then the thing the strategist had worried about could happen. Someone behind them, and someone behind that.
While traveling, we might inevitably get entangled in such things, but not now. Our journey was only on its second day.
Father, no matter how much fate tries to drag you in, it is enough if we avoid it first.
* * *
The next day, we were driving the carriage toward Shaanxi.
Father had quietly closed his eyes, and I was looking at the scenery outside.
As I gazed at the wildflowers blooming along the river, I suddenly asked Father,
“Father, are you good at fishing?”
Father nodded with his eyes closed. His expression was confident, as if to say, Is there anything I cannot do?
“How about fish for dinner tonight? We’ll make a wager on who catches the bigger one, and the loser has to do everything from cleaning the fish to cooking it. Ah, and cleaning up afterward too. If you’re not confident, you can forfeit.”
With his eyes still closed, Father said to Hwi,
“Pull the carriage up by the river.”
Father had left things like hesitation back at headquarters.
Hwi brought the carriage to the riverside.
“Father, how big was the largest fish you’ve ever caught?”
At that, an astonishing fish was mentioned from Father’s mouth.
“Jinlin Xingyu.”
It was a spirit fish handed down in legend. It was probably larger than a person.
“That actually exists?”
“I caught it and even consumed its inner core.”
“Ah! I can’t beat Jinlin Xingyu.”
In terms of size, I would lose, but in terms of rarity, I would win.
The Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp.
The final overlord of all spirit fish.
Of course, I could not catch it now. The Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp could only be obtained later, at the place and time where I had once gained it.
“I happen to know a thing or two about fishing.”
I was not joking. I had truly roamed through the water in search of that damned Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp until my body was practically waterlogged.
“Now then, let’s make the fishing rods first.”
I circled the area with lightness skill and found bamboo. Among them, I cut down the finest-looking stalk. I cut two, including one for Father.
“Which bamboo will you choose?”
“You choose first.”
“How generous of you. I won’t go easy on you.”
But contrary to my words, I chose the less suitable of the two bamboos. No matter what, I could not choose the one better than Father’s.
I took out a dagger and shaved the bamboo to make a fishing rod.
“You must not blame the equipment later.”
“You are the one who should not.”
“Uncle Hwi, you heard that, right? You have to judge fairly. You can’t let Father stretch out the fish he catches later!”
At my words, Hwi laughed. If the fish Father caught were truly smaller than mine, he was the kind of man who would try to stretch it with martial arts.
“But Father, aren’t you going to make one?”
Father only watched me make the fishing rod.
“You aren’t planning to catch fish with martial arts, are you? That’s not allowed. We’re catching them fair and square with fishing rods.”
“I know.”
“Then why aren’t you making one? No matter how you look at me, I won’t make it for you. You have to make it with your own hands. Are you planning to blame the fishing rod later?”
Even so, Father did not budge.
In the end, I raised both hands in surrender.
“I lose. I lose, all right.”
I set down what I had been making and started on Father’s fishing rod first. Of course, I made it with even more care and skill than mine.
Father simply watched me in silence.
Once the rod was complete, I took fishing line and hooks from my luggage and finished the work.
And so, two fishing rods were made.
“Now, here is your weapon, Father. Choose first.”
When I solemnly held out the two fishing rods,
“I don’t need one.”
Father stretched a hand toward the carriage.
What an ominous gesture!
Then the large leather bag in the carriage came undone, and something slipped out from inside and flew toward us.
It was a bamboo pole about the length of an adult’s forearm.
Whoooosh.
As Father manipulated the bamboo, it lengthened like the Ruyi Jingu Bang.
Astonishingly, it was a fishing rod. It looked both flexible and sturdy, and at a glance it was clearly no ordinary object.
“What is that?”
Then came an astonishing name.
“It is the signature weapon of the Eastern Sea Fisherman.”
The Eastern Sea Fisherman was a martial arts master who had roamed the Central Plains with a single fishing rod. And his fishing rod was known as the perfect fishing rod. There was even a saying that if one could catch a blue whale with a fishing rod, it would have to be the Eastern Sea Fisherman’s rod.
“Why do you have it, Father?”
“Long ago, he lost to me in a martial duel, offered up his fishing rod, and left.”
“You were the one who made him retire?”
“It was his own pride that made him retire.”
I was deeply moved. Not because Father had defeated the Eastern Sea Fisherman in his youth. Not because I was seeing that perfect fishing rod with my own eyes.
I was moved by the fact that Father had brought it with him.
I imagined Father late at night, packing that fishing rod he had brought from the Heavenly Demon Treasury into his leather bag.
As he packed it, he must have thought that he might end up fishing with me.
“No, if you had a fishing rod, you should have said so. You just had to tease your son like this.”
Perhaps he had simply enjoyed watching his son make him a fishing rod.
“And the Eastern Sea Fisherman’s rod? This is cheating!”
“Who was it who said we shouldn’t blame our equipment?”
Father and I stood side by side on the riverbank.
Our fishing contest to catch the big one had begun.
“Now then, shall we begin?”
“You’ll stink of fish today, so sleep far away from me.”
“That is what I should be saying. I’ll endure the smell coming from you, Father, and sleep. I will prove that a true artisan does not blame his tools.”
I mean it. Even with that rod, it won’t be easy for you.
Our fishing lines flew over the river, sparkling in the sunlight.
The curves drawn by the fishing lines were more beautiful than any line created by martial arts. When the bait entered the river, gentle ripples spread out, then soon grew still.
The soft sound of water could be heard. The flapping of waterbirds came riding on the river breeze.
The surroundings were endlessly quiet and peaceful.
It was my first time fishing with Father.
Absolute Regression, Chapter 449