Call Me ShiFu

On the other side, Lingxi returned to the room after taking the call. Studying my worry-etched face, she remarked offhandedly, "Fortune smiles upon you. Su Tongyuan just inquired about your condition and proposed another bargain. I'll assist you in accumulating ten life-saving merits. Hmm… Pack your things. We leave for Jingdu tomorrow.

"Wha—?" My jaw went slack in stunned silence.

Lingxi narrowed her almond-shaped eyes. "So you refuse?"

"My boy's honored!" my father interjected anxiously, already rummaging through the wardrobe. "Still half-asleep, are you?" He shot me a meaningful glance. "Show gratitude to Master Lingxi for her life-saving grace!"

Propped up by Eldest Uncle against the headboard, I confessed bluntly, "I just wonder what deal you struck with Su Tongyuan." In all honesty, I had no desire to owe either of them anything.

Lingxi paused thoughtfully, her response measured. "There's something I require that happens to be in Su Tongyuan's possession. Does that suffice?"

I nodded mutely.Given Master Lingxi's status, whatever she sought from Su Tongyuan must carry astronomical value. Combined with the million yuan spent to summon her for my rescue, my debt to that mother-daughter duo kept snowballing.

 At dawn, a black Mercedes van idled by our courtyard gate. Lingxi slid into the passenger seat, her tone clipped. "Ten minutes for farewells."

"Thank you," I said with genuine warmth. This aloof girl hid unexpected compassion beneath her frosty exterior.

Dad had packed my belongings the night before. He hoisted my college duffel, throat working.

"Winter clothes only – the bag's too small. Buy what you need in Jingdu." He patted the side pocket where bills rustled.

Eldest Uncle gripped my shoulder. "Get a cellphone first thing. Call weekly. Need anything, you holler." His calloused hands lingered.

"Got it." My smile trembled as tears pricked my eyes.

Grandma stood rooted in the courtyard, weathered fingers clutching mine. "Mind your health now. Heed Master Lingxi's wisdom." Her tears fell hot on our joined hands. "End this haunting quick and come home."

"Grandma…" The dam broke.

"Enough now, let's not keep Master Lingxi waiting." Second Uncle cut through the sentimental moment. "Jingdu's just a six-hour drive. We'll caravan up whenever we miss our Ningzi." His forced chuckle hung in the frosty air.

Eldest Uncle adjusted my scarf . "If you cross paths in Beijing, mind your temper. Adult matters aren't for children to meddle in." He tucked a plastic bag bulging with red envelopes into my down jacket. "Chinese New Year's Eve is coming. Since you won't be home…" His knuckles whitened around the bag's handles. "Your Second Uncle and I pooled our red envelopes stuffed with cash."

"Peace through the years," Second Uncle chimed in, throat bobbing.

"Years of peace," I echoed, pressing the lumpy envelope against my chest.

The Mercedes' heated seats did nothing to thaw my frozen lungs as I memorized every wrinkle on Grandma's face through the fogged window.

"Move out," came Master Lingxi's detached command from the front seat. She flipped through a well-thumbed ancient tome without looking up.

The driver – a Marine-cut bruiser with neck tattoos – caught my eye in the rearview. "Carsick?"

"No, sir."

He lobbed a Nongfu Spring bottle over his shoulder. "Hold onto the empty bottle. You'll need it to piss on the road."

My ears burned hotter than Sichuan peppers. "Uh…"

"Eight-hour haul on the highway," he barked, merging into traffic with the precision of a Jingdu taxi veteran. "No pit stops."

"Got it." I hugged my backpack like a life preserver.

Master Lingxi remained entranced by her weather-beaten book, fingers tracing what appeared to be ancient divination charts. During a poorly disguised stretch, I glimpsed arcane symbols and esoteric diagrams – not a single Chinese character in sight. The woman moved less than a terracotta warrior, her silence broken only by the whisper of turning pages.

When we finally rolled through Jingdu's outer ring road at 4 PM, my bladder felt like a overinflated baozi. The Mercedes snaked through hutongs turned suburban sprawl, coming to rest before a secluded mansion nestled against Fragrant Hills.

"Here we are. Get out." Lingxi closed the book and said with a trace of weariness.

Hauling my duffel from the Mercedes' trunk, I trailed Master Lingxi into the marble-floored foyer. "Pick any room upstairs," she gestured toward the spiral staircase, her jade pendant catching afternoon light. "Make a shopping list if you need essentials."

When I opened my mouth to respond, she cut me off with military precision. "We're seven kilometers from downtown Jingdu. Get a driver's license unless you enjoy being stranded."After a moment's thought, she added, "If you're hungry, figure it out yourself. When in doubt, drink water."

"Excuse me?" I stared dumbfounded at her. Was she suggesting I practice photosynthesis?

A faint blush crept up her neck as she flipped open her well-thumbed ancient tome."No housekeeper. I survive on takeout and snacks."

"Though if you can cook, I'll have Whole Foods deliver ingredients."

Lingxi settled onto the sofa. "The evil spirit within you will awaken every three days at midnight." Her fingers tapped the armrest rhythmically. "Don't wander off unless you fancy dying unnoticed in some alley."

I nodded like a woodpecker drilling bark. "What if you're not home when it happens?"

"Call this number—" She paused mid-sentence, rising abruptly. "One more rule. In public, you'll address me Shifu. Privately, use whatever you like."

"But why?"

"Men and women must maintain propriety," Lingxi said calmly. "I won't have outsiders spreading gossip. Calling me Shifu serves two purposes: it silences idle tongues and legitimizes our travels to accumulate merit."

"Oh, I see," I replied, suddenly understanding. Though Lingxi was barely older than me, bringing an unrelated young man into her home could tarnish her reputation. The title Shifu gave me a respectable position as her disciple while protecting her virtue as an unmarried woman.

"Go rest now," she gestured dismissively. Carrying my suitcase upstairs, I marveled at the mansion's grandeur. The second floor alone contained six bedchambers, two bathing rooms, a study, a kitchen, and a training hall—all furnished with modern comforts like computers and wardrobes, though curiously lacking bedding.

 Of course—with Lingxi occupying the master suite downstairs, these chambers likely hadn't hosted guests.