Chapter 4 Part 2 Fight, Recovery, And Temple Visit
Startled, he was struck silent.
Even Qi was deeply shocked. Never in his memory had he seen her shout at his father like that.
Their home had always been a "model household": Father leading outside, mother inside, his word final. His quick tongue and clever ways usually drew her back whenever she muttered a complaint.
Yet here she was, refusing to back down.
Qi knew that the consequences of a broken home were beyond him to handle. Desperate, he interjected softly:
"Ma, don't scold Dad. I think he's right. I'm only a little undernourished. No big illness no need to stay longer. And I can't stand the disinfectant smell here. If I need rest, home is better anyway."
His father seized the lifeline instantly. "See, Juan? Qi himself says so."
She turned away, touching Qi's forehead tenderly. "But Qi, your condition isn't stable. What if "
"Mom, look at me, I'm fine. And anyway, with Uncle Jun as vice president here, if something happens, he'll surely arrange care instantly."
Mentioning Xu made Xu answer at once, eager to reassure: "Of course! Rest assured, Zhang Shujuan."
Qi smirked inwardly at hearing Xu call her so intimately when his father wasn't present.
Finally, reassured, she relented. The three returned home.
That night, she stayed faithfully by his bedside, until sleep overwhelmed her. She slumped, half lying across the sheets.
Qi sat up in the moonlight, pulling the curtain slightly open. The pale light poured in, bathing her in a silvery aura. Her black hair shimmered against her white neck.
For a long moment, Qi gazed in trance, lost in something he did not fully understand.
The next day, his mother requested time off and stayed home to tend to him. By afternoon, seeing him in lively spirits, she insisted on pulling him out for a walk. He resisted but could not refuse.
Along the walk, she turned into a chatterbox yet again, harping over his habits and lifestyle, her words echoing endlessly. To him, she seemed like Tang Seng, nagging at Sun Wukong in the old film comedies suffocating.
But as they walked, somehow their feet carried them toward the school neighborhood.
Qi saw the dome of Xiangyun Monastery rise ahead like a savior. He quickly steered their way toward it.
"Mom, look there's a Taoist temple here. Looks ancient. Why don't we go and have a look?" he suggested innocently.
She glanced up. Since it was just a stroll, why not visit along the way? She nodded and followed him to the gate.
"Mom, looks like we need tickets," Qi pointed.
"What? Tickets? Forget it then. All Taoist temples are the same no sense wasting money."
She had always been frugal and practical. Qi's heart sank.
Unexpectedly, the heavily made-up woman in the booth interrupted: "It's quiet this afternoon. No need to buy. Go on in."
Instantly, his mother's eagerness shone. Enthusiasm sparked at the thought of getting something free. She took his hand and strode through the gates.
Qi, startled, turned to look at the ticket-seller, who only glared coldly at him before muttering, "That damned Taoist..."
Qi chuckled inwardly. He guessed that Pingshan Daoist had spoken with her in advance, making sure that whenever Qi visited, no ticket would be charged.
Inside, his mother's nagging subsided. The halls demanded respect after all, and she focused instead on the sights.
Though much had been reconstructed, authentic fragments remained, recreated in ancient style. The air was thick with old-world design.
Qi remembered his mother had been trained in fine arts of course she grew absorbed in the architecture.
Few visitors wandered here, most being pilgrims burning incense. Hearing chatter, Qi realized many believed the incense here to be remarkably effective.
Last time he visited, Pingshan had taken him straight inside his quarters, bypassing such scenes. Now, seeing it anew, he felt a little wiser.
But his mother grew curiously drawn toward the idea of the temple's "efficacy." She asked questions, engaging women pilgrims eagerly.
Soon, Qi's eyes caught Pingshan Daoist at a long table, speaking to pilgrims with lofty words. Qi knew he was peddling trinkets and books.
Pingshan noticed him simultaneously. He smiled warmly, motioning Qi to wait.
After dispatching the pilgrims with a few easy lines, Pingshan came.
Qi tilted his head urgently toward his mother, whispering: "That's my mom. She doesn't know I've been here before or that I know you. Please play along."
The Daoist was clever, understanding quickly, but puzzled still: "Why hide it?"
Qi explained bluntly: "My family is official, my grandfather a firm Marxist. If they knew I'd fallen in with a so-called 'wine-and-meat Taoist,' they'd be furious."
Pingshan chuckled, lowering his voice: "Since when have you seen me eat meat or drink? Careful, calling me that is slander I might sue you!"
Qi chuckled slyly.
His mother noticed their exchange and walked over.
Pingshan instantly shifted tone, adopting a serious posture. He began remarking on Qi's health, diagnosing merely from his face.
To Qi's surprise, he was accurate, echoing the hospital's findings.
His mother lit up finally someone who seemed to truly understand.
They fell into earnest discussion.
Qi, listening aside, admired Pingshan's knack for deceiving how a few words charmed his mother instantly into trust, convincing her soon to rush off to buy incense and make a vow.