Chapter 23: The Henggong Fish

The fox’s words made Wei Li even more uncomfortable. After shooting the fox a displeased glance, she stepped into the courtyard. The fox laughed and said, “I’m only telling the truth,” then followed Wei Li inside.

To be honest, Wei Li found nothing strange about the residence. Facing south, it was a prime location with excellent feng shui—there was no sign of ominous energy. Yet the mistress of the house insisted she was plagued by evil spirits. She first sought monks from White Horse Temple, but when their efforts failed, the abbot asked Chang Shu to stay and investigate. Still, nothing was discovered, though the mistress’s health deteriorated day by day. Helpless, Chang Shu wrote to Guang Zong for assistance.

Chang Shu took Guang Zong around the house, inside and out, but found nothing amiss. Coincidentally, it was time for dinner. The steward had prepared vegetarian dishes. In the past, Wei Li would either be sleeping or off seeking amusement during mealtimes, but now, seeing Chang Shu’s attentiveness, she pulled out a chair and claimed the seat beside Guang Zong before Chang Shu could. Chang Shu smiled and sat across from Guang Zong.

“Can you stomach this food?” the fox asked, finding Wei Li’s behavior odd. The casual question stung Wei Li, and she glared at the fox, “Eat your own food!”

The fox shrugged and buried himself in his meal. The atmosphere at the table was awkward. Chang Shu was engrossed in reminiscing with Guang Zong about childhood memories, leaving Wei Li out of the conversation, so she listened in silence.

Wei Li knew the stories were meant for her ears—all about eating together, meditating together—highlighting the vast difference between Chang Shu’s relationship with Guang Zong and her own.

Chang Shu spoke of being punished by the abbot, with Guang Zong taking the punishment on her behalf. Wei Li interjected abruptly, “The monk would even forsake his promising future for me, all for the sake of enlightening me.” She finished with a satisfied smile.

Chang Shu was infuriated by this remark. She recalled the abbot mentioning that he had wanted Guang Zong to remain at White Horse Temple to meditate, but Guang Zong refused. Rumors spread that it was for a woman. Now, it seemed the “monster” spoken of among the disciples was Wei Li. Chang Shu, skilled at controlling her emotions, disliked Wei Li but did not show it, maintaining a calm expression as she served Guang Zong more food. “The abbot always says my senior brother is destined for enlightenment. Saving all beings is his duty, and I fully support him!”

Wei Li’s appraisal was that Chang Shu had remarkable composure—if she were in the imperial harem centuries ago, she’d be the Empress. But Wei Li wasn’t to be outdone. Resting her chin in her hand, she looked at Chang Shu and remarked, “Sister, you’ve long passed the age of adulthood and haven’t taken monastic vows. Now, in the prime of youth, marriage should be your top priority!” For a centuries-old monster to call the just-twenty-something Chang Shu “Sister” without batting an eye—what a feat!

Chang Shu hated jokes about her age, and her expression darkened. Guang Zong quickly rebuked Wei Li, “Chang Shu is only twenty-four. Don’t be so hasty!”

That only made Chang Shu’s face gloomier. The fox barely suppressed his laughter as he watched Wei Li, who was close to bursting herself. He set his chopsticks down and said to Guang Zong, “Wei Li and I will check the courtyard for any evil spirits,” and pulled Wei Li outside.

Once in the yard, Wei Li burst into laughter, slapping the fox’s shoulder. “Did you see Chang Shu’s face? So long and sour—hahaha…”

Rubbing his sore shoulder, the fox said, “Don’t laugh too hard. She’s the monk’s junior. We’re in for it—hahaha…” Unable to hold back, he joined Wei Li in laughter.

Wei Li stifled her laughter and nodded in agreement. “I think I may have gone a bit too far.”

That night, they took turns watching over the residence. Wei Li was assigned the latter half of the night. When Chang Shu came to relieve her, she reluctantly left her warm bed and wandered into the courtyard, leaning against a pillar and dozing off. Suddenly, an unusual aura filled the air. Wei Li snapped awake, her expression instantly serious. The ominous energy thickened, darkness fell, and a sudden, torrential rain began. Heavy drops splashed onto the ground, raising bitter-smelling dust. Wei Li and the fox quickly took shelter under the eaves. The rain hammered the earth, spinning rapidly, its silver streaks reaching a foot away.

This rain was not ordinary. The relentless downpour filled the night with a ceaseless, shifting darkness. Something churned in the pond. Wei Li wanted to investigate, but the rain was too fierce, leaving her stuck.

“Spirit of heaven and earth, grant me unity, swift as the Jade Command! Depart!”

Wei Li pressed two fingers to her lips and recited an incantation. Fortunately, her time with Wen Bai had taught her a few spells for dispersing evil spirits. Yet whatever was in the pond continued to thrash about—perhaps it wasn’t a spirit? The rain stopped abruptly, but the thing in the pond churned even more violently. Wei Li hurried forward to investigate, just as the creature burst from the water. She shielded her face with her arm, but her robes were soaked. Before her stood a being with the face of a fish and the body of a human.

The monster roared at Wei Li, who frowned and stared at it. “Heng Gong Fish?”

Wei Li remembered the description from the Classic of Mountains and Seas: Heng Gong Fish lived in stone lakes, grew seven or eight feet long, resembled a red carp, spent the day in water and transformed into a human at night. Its skin could not be pierced, it could not be killed by boiling, but if boiled with two black plums, it would die. Eating it could cure evil ailments. At night, Heng Gong Fish would jump ashore and shed its heavy shell, appearing somewhat human.

The Heng Gong Fish lunged at Wei Li, trying to bite her. Wei Li dodged nimbly, puzzled—creatures capable of becoming human should possess human consciousness, yet this one hunted like a wild beast. She couldn’t harm it; its hide was too tough. Forced to retreat, she narrowly avoided its bloody maw. Just then, Guang Zong appeared, grabbing Wei Li by the collar and pulling her back into his arms. The fox leaped onto the Heng Gong Fish’s head, biting and clawing.

Unable to shake off the fox, the Heng Gong Fish went berserk, slamming its head repeatedly against the courtyard wall to dislodge the fox.

The fox struggled, but its foe’s flesh was tough and foul-smelling. Guang Zong let go of Wei Li, seized his prayer beads, and rushed forward, looping them around the monster’s neck and yanking hard. The fox finally escaped, tumbling to the ground. Wei Li hurried to help him up and pull him back. Blood stained the fox’s pale clothing—he was clearly wounded. Chang Shu arrived and drew her sword, charging in, but being neither skilled nor bound by Buddhist taboos, she only added to Guang Zong’s burden. Wei Li snatched her sword, saying, “Take care of the fox!” and charged forward herself.

Guang Zong tightened his grip around the Heng Gong Fish’s neck as it struggled and gaped. Wei Li kicked off a stone bench, vaulted through the air, and tried to stab her sword into its mouth, but the blade snapped. The monster struck her with a powerful blow, sending her tumbling until she collided with the courtyard wall. That was enough to enrage Wei Li. She struggled to her feet, growling, “I’ll chop off your fish head and make soup tonight!”

Her hand brushed the shattered stones by the wall, blood dripping onto them. Wei Li charged again, cleaving at the Heng Gong Fish’s head. Her blood, as sharp as a blade, sliced easily through the monster’s skull. With its head severed, the body fell lifeless.

Wei Li, clutching the Heng Gong Fish’s head, found the mistress and flung it at her feet, demanding fiercely, “How could you keep such a creature in your house?”

The mistress saw the corpse and her pale lips trembled. “I deceived you, and I apologize. I am an old woman, plagued by illness. I heard that Heng Gong Fish is medicine, and eating it can cure evil ailments. I paid dearly for it, but no one could kill it to prepare a medicinal meal. I had no choice but to invite monks…”

This only made Wei Li angrier. She grabbed the mistress by the collar, “Selfish creature!”

Guang Zong intervened just in time, pulling Wei Li away. Wei Li, still furious, glared at him, “Monk, what are you doing? Let me teach that old woman a lesson!”

“That woman’s life force has run dry—no elixir can save her. The Heng Gong Fish was a monster; leaving it here would only bring harm. Today’s events are justice served,” Guang Zong said, finding Wei Li’s fury oddly endearing.

“Fine!”

Wei Li took a deep breath and went to the west wing to check on the fox’s injuries. The physician had bandaged him, but the fox still looked pale. Wei Li sat beside him and asked, “Does it still hurt?”

“Aren’t you wounded as well?”

Wei Li smiled softly. “How nice, you noticed I was hurt…”

The next day, the weather was unexpectedly clear. Wei Li thought the strange events were resolved and Chang Shu would surely return to White Horse Temple. The thought made her cheerful, and she prepared to be a gracious host. But then she saw Chang Shu clutching Guang Zong’s sleeve, crying. Wei Li strolled over and heard Chang Shu say, “Senior brother, who knows when I’ll see you again after this farewell? I can’t bear to part with you…”

“Find a good family to marry into—that will ease my mind.”

Chang Shu continued to cling to Guang Zong, sobbing, “Senior brother, I don’t want to marry…”

“Then take monastic vows; the Buddhist path will shelter you.”

Wei Li covered her mouth and laughed. Did Guang Zong truly not understand Chang Shu’s feelings, or was he pretending?