Go all out

Chapter 1: The She-Wolf

That winter, my master found me in the snow. That’s right—in today’s terms, I was an abandoned infant, cast aside by my parents. Logically speaking, a baby like me shouldn’t have survived that long in the snow in the dead of winter—I should have either frozen to death or starved to death. But when my master found me, I was still full of life. He took a close look at the surroundings and noticed a jumble of plum-blossom-shaped paw prints in the snow—they looked like the tracks of some kind of animal. It was this animal that nursed me for several days and slept by my side at night, which is what kept me alive in such bitter cold. When my master picked me up, the animal came out—according to my master, it was a female wolf. After the she-wolf emerged, she merely glanced at my master before turning and walking back into the woods. My master never told me where this wolf came from, and as for why it didn’t eat me, I’m still completely baffled. After I grew older, I went up the mountain a few times to look for her, but I could never find her. But every time I went up the mountain, something strange happened. Other kids who went up there would run into snakes or wild boars, but I’d been going up the mountain since I was seven, and nothing ever happened to me. On the contrary, on the way down, I’d often find a freshly killed wild rabbit or pheasant lying on the path. This always puzzled me. When I carried this game home, my master would simply pat me on the head, then—as if it were the most natural thing in the world—take the game to the kitchen to prepare it, as if he knew I’d never come down from the mountain empty-handed. As a result, I’d go up the mountain several times a year, until I turned twelve, when my master suddenly forbade me from going any longer—because I was to carry on his legacy. My master was a renowned fortune-teller throughout the surrounding villages; his predictions were very accurate, so many people came seeking his services. But my master had a rule: fortune-telling depended on the weather. No readings on cloudy days, rainy days, at night, or in the morning—he only gave three readings a day. So, if you wanted a reading from my master, it had to be on a sunny day, and you had to get there early. I followed this rule as I learned the trade, even though I didn’t know why. Today, my master was picked up by a wealthy client in a car to give a reading, so I stayed at the shop, playing on my phone while minding the place. Just then, as I was playing a card game called “Landlord,” Uncle Zhang from the village pushed open the door and walked in. Uncle Zhang is a lifelong bachelor in our village—he’s over forty and still unmarried. He spends all day asking my master when he’ll be able to get married, but my master just gives him a few vague answers every time, because according to his facial features, he’s destined never to marry. People like him are called “lonely souls.” Fortune-telling is all about one’s fate, and fate represents the person—a person’s life must continue for it to be considered a fate. That’s why, in our eyes, fortune-telling is also about reading people. And to “read a person” means analyzing the trajectory of their fortune—past and future—based on their facial features, because a person’s face can tell us a great deal. Uncle Zhang’s face, in particular, clearly indicated that he would have to rely solely on his own two hands for the rest of his life… “Xiaotian, is your master not here?” Uncle Zhang walked over to ask me, a hint of unmistakable worry on his face. I was puzzled—had something happened to him? “My master’s out giving fortune-telling readings,” I replied bluntly. “That’s too bad,” Uncle Zhang sighed. “What’s wrong, Uncle Zhang?” I asked, curious. “How much do you know about that stuff?” Uncle Zhang leaned in and suddenly asked me. “A little,” I nodded. What Uncle Zhang was referring to were just some mysterious matters—things my master understood as well. “All right, then. Take a look at my hand—what’s wrong with it?” As Uncle Zhang spoke, he rolled up his sleeve. The moment I saw it, I was startled—there was a huge wound on his arm, as if he’d been bitten by some wild beast. Two rows of bloody tooth marks looked rather unsettling. “Uncle Zhang, what happened to you?” I asked urgently. “Ah, what a fucking stroke of bad luck. Didn’t I go hunting in the mountains the day before yesterday? I ran into a wolf—a pretty big one, too. I figured I could get a good price for it, so I snuck up and shot it dead. Just as I was getting ready to carry it down the mountain to sell, the wolf suddenly came back to life and bit me…” “What? You shot a wolf?” I was startled! “I didn’t kill it. That beast bit me and then ran off. But it’s been two days, and this wound just won’t heal—I can’t even stop the bleeding. Don’t you think that wolf is really strange? It got shot and still ran off unscathed.” Uncle Zhang shuddered as he spoke. As soon as I heard that, I flew into a rage and shouted at Uncle Zhang, “Hurry up and tell me—where did you shoot that wolf?” “What’s the matter, Xiao Tian? Do you want to hunt that wolf and make a little money too?” Uncle Zhang gave me a strange look. “Screw that! If you don’t want to die, just spit it out.” I roared right at Uncle Zhang. I wasn’t just trying to scare him—no matter how serious the wound was, it wouldn’t kill him—but if that wolf he shot was the one that raised me when I was a kid, I’d really kill him. My shout completely stunned Uncle Zhang. He trembled a few times, his face contorted with fear. “It’s up on the mountain. I’ll take you there right now.” I hurried to the backyard, grabbed my master’s first-aid kit, shut the door, and ran out after Uncle Zhang. Our village wasn’t far from that mountain to begin with, and I’d climbed it countless times as a child, so I knew the area well. After running with Uncle Zhang for about an hour, we finally reached the spot he’d described. It was under a large tree, where there was a distinct bloodstain—and a lot of blood at that. My heart sank instantly. If it was bleeding this much from a gunshot, could something have happened to that wolf? I felt anxious and began searching urgently along the blood trail. After about one li, the trail went cold. I kept calling out, but by nightfall I still hadn’t found anything, and my eyes stung with tears. If it weren’t for that wolf—no, my mother, who nursed me—I would have died long ago. Uncle Zhang was afraid I’d get lost in the mountains by myself, so he stayed with me the whole time. At six o’clock, my master called me. I told him what had happened through my tears, and then he rode his bike over to find me. It was already past nine o’clock at night when my master made his way up the mountain with a flashlight. As soon as Uncle Zhang saw it was my master, he was overjoyed. He immediately rushed forward and showed my master his arm. My master took just one look and said coldly, “Go back and apply some child’s urine to it overnight. Remember, you’re not allowed to hunt on this mountain anymore! If anything else happens because of hunting, don’t come looking for me!” My master’s words carried a lot of weight. Uncle Zhang kept agreeing, then thanked him a few times before heading back down the mountain. My master watched Uncle Zhang head down the mountain, then suddenly furrowed his brow. As I sat there under the tree, I faintly heard him mutter, “Karma comes full circle; a life for a life. That young Zhang fellow—I’m afraid tonight…” I wasn’t in the mood to dwell on my master’s words. A few minutes later, he sighed and walked over to me. “Don’t worry. If it really is her, given her spiritual prowess, she’ll be fine as long as it isn’t a special bullet.” “Really?” Hearing my master’s words, I was immediately overjoyed. My master had said she possessed a spirit—meaning she had become a spirit creature—which was why she hadn’t eaten me during that heavy snowstorm but had instead nursed me for several days. I’d spent the whole afternoon looking for her but couldn’t find her—maybe her injuries had already healed. “Of course,” my master nodded. “Xiaotian, you should head back for now.” “Okay.” Feeling uneasy, I set the first-aid kit down under this big tree and called out loudly, “Mom, I left these things here.” As I made my way down the mountain, I kept glancing back, but saw no sign of her. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. She saved my life when I was a child—why, now that I’m all grown up, won’t she even agree to see me just once? I sighed inwardly. By the time we rode back on my master’s scooter, it was already midnight. Neither of us had eaten yet, so my master quickly stir-fried a few simple dishes. After we finished eating, we each went to our rooms, lay down on our beds, and fell asleep. I slept fitfully that night, constantly feeling an itch on my face, as if something fuzzy were brushing against it. I tried to open my eyes, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t, so I just drifted back to sleep. Early the next morning, when I opened the shop door, I found a plump wild rabbit that had died only recently lying right outside the entrance—it must have weighed around ten to twenty jin. Who on earth put it there? Out of curiosity, I picked up the wild rabbit, only to discover a first-aid kit lying beneath it. The moment I saw that first-aid kit, my eyes instantly welled up with tears—because it was the very same one I’d left under that big tree last night. My mom came to see me last night…