Fortune 020: The Apricot Blossom Immortal

“Xian’er, is that you? No need to be polite—here, take a couple more buns! We made extra today, don’t be shy with Auntie!” The woman, about forty, pressed a steaming tray of fresh buns toward Guo Xingxian. She caught sight of Nan Shi beside him. “And this must be your friend! Such a handsome young man!”

Nan Shi gave a shy smile. “Hello, Auntie.”

As they chatted, even Guo Xingxian’s brow took on a faint shadow of black qi. Nan Shi’s heart pounded—could it be this aura of impending doom was contagious?

After all, Guo Xingxian had just come back from visiting his godfather. Whatever else could be said, he should at least be protected by a blessing, shouldn’t he? Unless his godfather truly meant him harm, it shouldn’t be so easy for that shadow to fall upon him, and, worst of all—right on the brow.

Nan Shi’s wariness grew ever deeper.

They spoke again of red and white affairs being held together. The responsibility may not have been theirs, but you know faces, not hearts—who could say what roles the participants played? Even in the underworld now, everything was run transparently: vengeful ghosts, seeking revenge, had to be licensed, and rarely involved the innocent. But there were so many possible causes—it was impossible to guess which would reach out and claim them.

Nan Shi fiddled deliberately with his phone, apologized politely, and switched on the front-facing camera.

At times like this, the built-in filter was more a hindrance than a help.

Yet it couldn’t be turned off.

Nan Shi stared at his own ruddy but pale face in the frame and acted quickly, grabbing Guo Xingxian. “Guo’er, I think I dropped my keys. Come help me look!”

“Hm?” Guo Xingxian turned to him; Nan Shi spread his hands. “I must’ve dropped them when I took my lighter out earlier.”

“Alright,” Guo Xingxian agreed without hesitation. He exchanged a few more words with the neighbors, borrowed an electric scooter again, and sped off with Nan Shi toward the Apricot Immortal Temple.

Nan Shi desperately hoped to avoid any further contact, but he couldn’t rightly refuse a neighbor’s well-intentioned gifts. Guo Xingxian rode ahead and asked, “What’s up with you, Nan Shi? You’ve been acting weird since earlier.”

“Cut the nonsense and look for the key first.” Nan Shi dared not say more; he feared Heaven itself would hurl him from the scooter and crack his teeth as a lesson.

It was all rather unfair—hadn’t he burned incense to the gods plenty of times? Why couldn’t Heaven reward him, just once?

He looked up at the sky and sighed with resignation.

So, a fortune teller couldn’t speak the truth? Was he doomed to tell fortunes only for ghosts from now on? What kind of fate was that!

The day was fully bright. The village grew livelier, traffic picking up. Guo Xingxian was something of a local celebrity—everyone waved and greeted them warmly; some even insisted on stopping them for a quick chat, or pressed things to eat or use into Guo Xingxian’s hands. If he refused, they just tossed it into his bike basket and left.

Sitting behind, Nan Shi observed each villager’s face and saw, more or less, the signs of death on every one of them.

What was going on here? Was an earthquake or landslide about to bury the village?

There was a mountain nearby, but from the village it was just a faint shadow. Even if there were a landslide, there was little chance it would reach this far.

So was it an earthquake?

Nan Shi watched the road intently—fish swam as usual, the old cat dozed lazily on the roof, birds circled the sky serenely. There were no signs of anything amiss.

Before long, they reached the Apricot Immortal Temple. Guo Xingxian was just starting to ask, “Why did you bring your key? Can’t imagine you need it—you even kept it in your po—”

Suddenly, he froze.

As he stepped through the threshold, a red-robed shadow appeared behind him, wrapping arms around him from behind. His mouth was still shaped for the final “po” of “pocket.” The Apricot Immortal narrowed his eyes at Nan Shi, exquisite features frosted with chill, promising death at the slightest provocation. “What’s going on here?”

Nan Shi, unaffected, moved freely. He bowed and said, “I don’t know either, but seeing you, I’m certain he’s crossed paths with a true calamity.”

The Apricot Immortal curled his lips in a cold laugh. “Heh. You might take a look at yourself.”

Nan Shi forced a wry smile—so much for being good-tempered! At best, he could be called easy on Guo Xingxian alone.

“If you’ll allow me—” He reached into Guo Xingxian’s pocket, fished out his phone, and deftly guided Guo’s finger to unlock it. “To be honest, I have my doubts. Let me check first.”

Guo Xingxian’s phone was a top-line foreign brand whose front camera was famed for brutal honesty. However dull, sallow, or spotted your skin, it would render every flaw in perfect clarity.

Nan Shi saw that his own brow, too, was covered by a pale blue-grey mist. It wasn’t fatal at this stage, but left alone, it could easily deepen. Nothing but trouble on this path.

A face’s fortune changes by the moment—he looked all right now, but who knew what an hour might bring?

Just as he was about to speak, a breeze ghosted by his ear; a graceful woman’s voice murmured, “Your servant, Qing Ying, pays respects to young master and the Apricot Immortal.”

The Apricot Immortal arched a brow. “So—it’s actually his man.”

Nan Shi started—Qing Ying was the great maid at home. He barely ever saw her and hadn’t the faintest idea what her actual duties were. Sometimes he’d glimpse her fleetingly, always bowing quietly, never saying more than a word.

“The mountain lord sent a letter,” Qing Ying said, drawing a letter from her sleeve and giving it to the Apricot Immortal. Then she approached Nan Shi, curtseyed, and presented another. “Young master, there is also a letter for you.”

With a sweep of his long sleeve, the Apricot Immortal conjured a table and two stools before them. He set Guo Xingxian on his lap with a casual wave. “Sit.”

“Thank you, Immortal,” said Nan Shi, taking his seat.

He took the letter, muttering as he opened it, “I must remember to teach my brother how to use a phone when I get back…”

Qing Ying pressed her lips together in a smile, not daring to reply.

The envelope revealed only a blank sheet of paper, containing six copper coins, nothing else.

What could it mean?

Nan Shi fingered the coins, gave the paper a shake in case something was hidden between the folds.

The Apricot Immortal’s letter was clearly not blank. He bowed his head to read, a lock of long hair falling over his shoulder and brushing Guo Xingxian’s face. Guo Xingxian’s lashes fluttered, as if waking from a dream, his eyes dazed as he looked at the immortal.

The Apricot Immortal looked down, their gazes meeting in a hush of wind, and at once the air filled with falling blossoms. The scent of apricot flowers—gentle, subtle—pervaded everything, at odds with those blood-red crowns.

“You—” Guo Xingxian had only managed a syllable before the immortal covered his eyes. “Sleep.”

Guo Xingxian instantly drifted off again.

Nan Shi sat there, dumbfounded by the display—what cunning!

That wind must have been summoned by him!

Those petals, scattered on purpose!

He had surely arranged for Guo Xingxian to catch a fleeting, heart-stopping glimpse of a dreamlike beauty, just to let him sleep with that memory!

The “so it can be done this way” look in Nan Shi’s eyes was so blatant the Apricot Immortal fixed him with a cold gaze. “What are you looking at?”

Nan Shi quickly averted his eyes and coughed. “I see that the immortal’s countenance is as radiant as spring peach, and with such a full marriage palace, surely you will have a blissful destiny—envied by neither mortals nor immortals, a match made in heaven!”

“…” The Apricot Immortal laughed softly, derision clear in his tone. “Who would’ve guessed Lord Chi would choose such a slick-tongued disciple.”

“So what do you want from me, Immortal? Praise you, or don’t praise you—I’m wrong either way.” Nan Shi protested anxiously. “No matter your relation to my senior brother, you’re Guo’er’s godfather, and I’m Guo’er’s friend, so by the rules, I ought to address you as Uncle, right?”

Nan Shi very nearly said, why don’t we just stick to our own lines—you address me as brother through my senior, and I’ll call you Uncle through Guo’er; and if, by chance, Guo’er and I become a pair, then Guo’er might have to call me Dad on your account.

“Heh.” The Apricot Immortal gave a faint snort, taking it as tacit agreement. Nan Shi’s gaze shifted to the letter in his hand, curious, but etiquette forbade him from asking about letters between elders.

“That’s enough now, you two should be on your way,” the Apricot Immortal said softly, brushing a petal from Guo Xingxian’s brow with a fingertip.

Nan Shi blinked; the next moment, he found himself sitting on the muddy ground beneath the apricot tree. Guo Xingxian lay on a bed of vivid red petals glistening with dew, as if freshly fallen from the tree above.

Damn, talk about playing favorites.

Guo Xingxian yawned awake, leaned carelessly against the great apricot tree, and glanced at the mud on Nan Shi’s pants. “Nan Shi, did you fall in the cesspit?”

Nan Shi glanced back at the tree, swallowing his “yes.”

The darkness on Guo Xingxian’s brow was completely gone, replaced by a red sheen—a sign of imminent fortune. Nan Shi still had Guo’s phone in hand; he lifted the camera to check himself—sure enough, he might die any moment after walking a step or two.

Qing Ying had not left; she stood, waiting.

Nan Shi glanced at her, then, as if she didn’t exist, hauled Guo Xingxian up. “I was going to ask what happened—said we’d find my keys, but when I got back, you were napping under the tree! Were you goofing off?”

“I didn’t sleep last night. Once the worry finally lifted, I got unbearably tired.” Guo Xingxian couldn’t recall what had just happened, only feeling exhaustion and randomly choosing a spot to sleep. He stood and brushed off the petals, covering a slight blush at his ears. Nan Shi gave him a shove. “What are you grinning so pervily for?”

Guo Xingxian just smiled without answering, turned to bow solemnly to the great tree, and pulled Nan Shi homeward.

At the gate, a thought struck Nan Shi: for a tree, flowers are, well, reproductive organs, right? Every time Guo Xingxian came home, he saw the tree in full, riotous bloom—so this aloof, noble Apricot Blossom Immortal was, in effect, flashing his parts before the whole world in broad daylight, right?

Well, no wonder Guo Xingxian’s face always looked so promising, except for the total lack of any sign of descendants. With behavior like that, it would be stranger still if he had any.

After all, it’s common knowledge—men and male trees cannot produce offspring.

They are reproductively isolated.