The evening air was perfect for dining outdoors. In the charity cemetery's traditional pavilion, paper lanterns cast warm circles of light over the stone table while a gentle breeze carried the fragrance of night-blooming jasmine through the courtyard. The moon, nearly full, provided additional silvery illumination that made the entire scene feel almost magical.
As everyone settled into their seats around the laden table, Gustave stood and raised his cup of homemade rice wine.
"My friend," he began, his voice carrying genuine warmth, "it has been far too long since we last gathered like this. Seeing you all again brings me more joy than I can properly express. Please, allow me to toast to old friendships and new adventures!"
"To friendship!" the others chorused, rising to clink their cups together. The sweet rice wine warmed their throats as they drank, and the formal atmosphere immediately relaxed into something more intimate and comfortable.
The table itself was a magnificent sight—twelve dishes and two soups covering every available surface, a feast worthy of the most important celebrations. Gustave's four creations sat alongside the simpler but heartfelt dishes prepared by the disciples, creating a perfect blend of sophistication and homestyle comfort.
"Go for it," Gustave encouraged with a gesture toward his contributions. "Please, everyone must try these dishes and tell me honestly what you think."
Lin Jiu, ever the polite host despite being in his own home, was the first to reach for his chopsticks. He selected a piece of the pickled fish, the translucent white fillet glistening with aromatic broth and crowned with bright red chili oil.
The moment it touched his tongue, Lin Jiu's eyebrows rose in surprise and delight. He chewed thoughtfully, savoring the complex interplay of flavors.
"Wah," he said admiringly, setting down his chopsticks momentarily. "Brother Gustave, your reputation is well-deserved. This fish is cooked to absolute perfection—so tender it practically dissolves, yet it maintains its texture beautifully. And the sourness of the pickled vegetables... it awakens the appetite in the most wonderful way!"
His three disciples exchanged skeptical glances. Their master was always polite to guests, but this level of enthusiasm seemed genuine.
"Is it really that extraordinary?" Qiu Sheng muttered under his breath.
All three young men reached for the pickled fish simultaneously, their chopsticks creating a brief comedic tangle before each managed to secure a piece. The moment they tasted Gustave's creation, their expressions transformed completely—eyes widening, chewing slowing to savor every note of flavor.
"Ai-ya!" Qiu Sheng gasped after swallowing. "Uncle Master, this is incredible! I've never tasted anything like this in my entire life! Compared to your cooking, everything I make is... is peasant food!"
Gustave chuckled warmly. "If you enjoy it so much, please eat as much as you like. There's plenty for everyone."
That invitation proved to be a mistake where Wen Cai was concerned. The laziest of Lin Jiu's disciples immediately began loading his bowl with generous portions from all four of Gustave's dishes, creating a small mountain of food that he attacked with single-minded determination.
"Mmm, mmm!" Wen Cai mumbled through bulging cheeks, grease from the soy sauce chicken glistening on his chin. "If Uncle Master could cook for us every day, life would be perfect!"
Lin Jiu's face went through several rapid color changes as he watched his disciple's appalling table manners. First embarrassment, then mortification, and finally fury as Wen Cai's thoughtless words registered.
"You ungrateful wretch!" Lin Jiu exploded, somehow producing a handful of bamboo disciplinary rods from thin air. "Not only do you eat like a starving pig, but you dare suggest that your elders should serve you daily? Have you completely forgotten respect and propriety?"
THWACK!
"Master! Master, I'm sorry!" Wen Cai yelped, leaping from his stool and instinctively adopting the traditional position of contrition—hands clutching his earlobes while dodging his master's swift strikes.
"Taoist Yimei! Please, calm yourself!" both Gustave and Zhang Zhiwei called out in alarm, rising quickly to physically restrain their host.
"My friend, Wen Cai only spoke so carelessly because he was overwhelmed by the food," Gustave said diplomatically, catching Lin Jiu's wrist mid-swing. "His words were clumsy, but they were meant as the highest compliment to my cooking. Please don't be so harsh with the boy."
"Master," Awei interjected quietly but firmly, "Senior Brother Wen Cai truly meant no disrespect. He was simply expressing how much he appreciated Uncle Master's incredible skill."
Everyone turned to stare at Awei in surprise. Just a year ago, he had been the corrupt, incompetent security captain whom Qiu Sheng and Wen Cai had delighted in pranking. Now here he was, calmly defending the same disciple who had once tormented him.
"Brother Awei," Wen Cai whispered, tears actually forming in his eyes. "You... you defended me. I... I don't know what to say."
Awei stood and gently patted Wen Cai's shoulder. "We're fellow disciples now, Brother Wen Cai. We may tease each other, but when it matters, we stand together."
The simple gesture and sincere words moved Wen Cai to actual tears. "Junior Brother, you have such a kind heart!"
Meanwhile, Qiu Sheng continued methodically devouring a soy sauce chicken leg, watching this unprecedented display of brotherly affection with amazement. When did Awei become so... mature? he wondered. And when did he get Wen Cai eating out of his hand like this?
Lin Jiu gradually allowed the bamboo rods to disappear back into his robes. "Hmph. For the sake of Master Gustave, Taoist Tiantong, and your junior brother's intervention, I'll overlook your boorishness this time. But mind your manners for the rest of the evening!"
"Brother Wen Cai," Awei whispered urgently, "thank Master properly."
"Oh! Yes!" Wen Cai immediately dropped into a deep bow. "Thank you for your mercy, Master! This unworthy disciple will conduct himself better!"
As Wen Cai returned to his seat—eating considerably more quietly now—Lin Jiu found himself reflecting on his three disciples with mixed emotions. Awei's transformation continued to impress him. The former security captain had developed remarkable diplomatic skills and genuine concern for his fellow disciples. His connections to the Ren family and the ongoing political developments virtually guaranteed him a successful future.
Qiu Sheng, too, had grown tremendously over the past year. His natural handsomeness, combined with dedicated study and genuine progress in both Taoist arts and martial skills, meant he would have no trouble making his way in the world. Several respectable families had already made discrete inquiries about potential marriage arrangements.
But Wen Cai... Lin Jiu's heart grew heavy as he watched his most problematic disciple. The young man was undeniably loyal and meant well, but he lacked both natural talent and the drive to overcome that limitation through hard work. His appearance was unremarkable at best, his cultivation progress minimal despite years of instruction, and his tendency toward laziness seemed incurable.
If something happens to me, Lin Jiu thought with genuine worry, what will become of Wen Cai? Even if he inherits the charity cemetery, with his temperament, he might run it into the ground within a few years.
Gustave noticed his friend's troubled expression and moved closer. "Taoist Yimei, you look concerned about something. What's troubling you?"
Lin Jiu forced a smile. "It's nothing serious—just thinking about my fellow disciples."
"Fellow disciples?" Gustave poured a fresh cup of wine and offered it to Lin Jiu. "Now that you mention it, I realize I know very little about your background. How many brothers do you have in the Maoshan sect?"
Lin Jiu accepted the wine gratefully and took a contemplative sip. "Well, there are several of us who studied under the current sect leader. Above me, there's my senior brother Shi Jian, known as the Lightning King. He's mastered the Five Thunder Method and Lightning Fist techniques to an extraordinary degree."
He paused to smile ruefully. "Of course, his thunder magic is still nothing compared to what you and Taoist Tiantong can accomplish."
Gustave and Zhang Zhiwei exchanged amused glances at the compliment, but Lin Jiu continued seriously.
"Despite that, Senior Brother Shi Jian remains the strongest among all our master's disciples. He's widely considered the most likely successor to lead Maoshan when the time comes."
Gustave nodded thoughtfully. From what he remembered of the films, Shi Jian's power was indeed formidable—it was only his eventual corruption and willingness to turn against the sect's ancestors that led to his downfall.
"Below me, I have three junior brothers," Lin Jiu continued. "You've met Simu—'Four Eyes.' He makes his living transporting corpses for clients, but his true specialty is divine summoning. If he ever successfully calls upon our ancestors' spirits, his power would become truly frightening."
"Then there's Qianhe. After leaving the mountain, he was invited to serve as a priest for the imperial court. When the dynasty fell, his situation became more difficult, but he's still far more comfortable than I am here. I encountered him a few years ago—the court's resources had allowed him to advance considerably, and he's trained four disciples who can form powerful group formations. In a real fight, he might well be stronger than me now."
Lin Jiu's expression grew more melancholy as he spoke of his youngest martial brother. "Finally, there's Mamadi. He's... well, he's the least educated and weakest among us in terms of cultivation. When our master sent us down the mountain to establish ourselves and take disciples, he specifically forbade Mamadi from leaving, saying that if he tried to teach others, he would only mislead them."
The pain in Lin Jiu's voice was evident as he added quietly, "Sometimes I worry that Wen Cai might follow the same path as poor Mamadi—well-meaning but ultimately unable to carry on our traditions properly."
"Allons, allons," Gustave said gently, refilling his friend's cup. "Stop dwelling on such gloomy thoughts and eat! If you don't hurry, my cooking will all disappear—your disciples have healthy appetites!"
Lin Jiu looked over to discover that his three students had indeed made serious inroads into the four dishes Gustave had prepared, their conversation having apparently given them license to eat with renewed enthusiasm.
He was about to scold them when all three disciples simultaneously approached with plates carefully arranged with selections from each of Gustave's creations.
"Master," Qiu Sheng said respectfully, "we made sure to save you portions of everything Uncle Master prepared."
"We wouldn't want you to miss out because you were being polite," Awei added diplomatically.
Even Wen Cai, still chastened from his earlier discipline, offered his plate with a properly humble bow.
Lin Jiu found himself smiling despite his earlier frustrations. Whatever their individual flaws, his disciples clearly cared about their master's wellbeing. Perhaps there was hope for all of them yet.
He accepted the plate gratefully and began to eat, savoring both the incredible flavors and the warmth of friendship that surrounded their moonlit gathering.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGarudaYou'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~