Chapter 44: The Blessed Leopard

After hearing the villagers' words, Cao Kong asked if he could stay for a few days, offering silver in payment. To his surprise, the villagers were simple and honest; without even glancing at the money, they told him to put it away and called for the man's wife to prepare a room.

The woman was plain and unadorned, her belly slightly rounded, though not obviously so—clearly with child. Before long, Cao Kong and the Golden Leopard settled in. The house was humble, but it afforded them rest.

The villager, surnamed Li and called Dafu, saw the two guests settled and instructed his wife to serve tea. He then went into the yard, selected a fat chicken, and slaughtered it to prepare a meal for his guests.

Cao Kong, as was his habit, closed his eyes and began to practice breathing techniques. He aspired to longevity; cultivation was a practice he could not neglect.

Before long, Cao Kong opened his eyes again. The earthen walls did little to muffle sound, and though the man and his wife spoke in hushed tones, their conversation was clear.

“Li Dafu, Li Dafu, are you tired of good fortune? Why refuse their money and even kill a chicken for them?”

The man's honest, placating voice followed, “Don't get upset, it's not good for you, especially with the baby. You need the nourishment as well, and it's also for our guests. It won't happen again.”

The man soothed his wife, then returned to boil water and pluck the chicken. Soon after, thin wisps of smoke curled from the roof, a homely scene that inspired contentment.

That night, they dined together at a wooden table. In the center was a bowl of chicken soup, surrounded by small dishes of vegetables and a pot of steamed millet. Simple fare, but it spoke to the hosts’ sincerity.

Li Dafu ladled soup for his wife, drank a mouthful himself, and smacked his lips. “Pity the harvest was poor last year and I couldn’t brew any rice wine. The meal would be so much richer with a little wine.”

Cao Kong smiled, “That is easily solved. I have wine; let us drink together.”

Li Dafu’s face lit up—wine was a rare treasure for common folk. Cao Kong produced a Cold Jade Gourd from his belt. Over the past three years, he had both brewed and drunk wine, and the gourd was filled with a hundred catties of his own.

This wine, though, was not as precious as the Soul-Cleansing or Spirit-Enhancing varieties, of which only a few jars remained; those he reserved for the Seven Lions and Golden Leopard, having buried the rest to savor in the peaceful days to come.

Yet the wine in the Cold Jade Gourd was remarkable in its own right, brewed from spiritual fruits and grains, known as Hundred Fruits Wine. Blended with celestial dew, it was fragrant, sweet, and lingered on the palate. A single cup for a mortal filled the body with spiritual energy, promoting health, clearing the meridians, and dispelling all ailments.

Li Dafu had shown kindness, so Cao Kong repaid him with spirit wine—a good deed rewarded in kind.

He poured Li Dafu a small cup. The woman, seeing this, muttered almost inaudibly, “So stingy, just a little cup.”

Li Dafu looked longingly at the cup. “Sir, one cup is not enough. Could I have a bit more?”

Cao Kong laughed, “Drink as you please, Brother Dafu. If you finish and want more, I’ll pour again.”

He then poured a half cup for the woman—it would nourish her and the child within. Cao Kong paid no mind to her earlier complaints; had she truly been unreasonable, she would have spoken when the chicken was killed, not after. Her words were merely for the sake of household matters.

Seeing this, the woman seemed at a loss and quietly murmured her thanks.

Cao Kong raised his cup, and the others followed. The wine was soft upon entry, then mellow and sweet, intoxicating in its fragrance.

“Excellent... truly excellent wine,” Li Dafu exclaimed.

He drank in one gulp, his face flushing red. He felt warmth surge through him and unconsciously slumped forward onto the table, soon snoring loudly.

The woman started in alarm, but, hearing his snores, regained her composure and looked helplessly at Cao Kong.

“It’s nothing—he can’t hold his liquor. I’ll carry him to bed later; you may drink the wine when you’re ready to sleep.”

The woman nodded repeatedly, thinking she must have encountered someone extraordinary. After the meal, she quietly asked for forgiveness, which made Cao Kong laugh.

The next morning, Li Dafu awoke with no sign of a hangover; instead, he felt more vigorous than ever, his chronic aches from years of labor gone. He realized his fortune in meeting such a person and was grateful for his actions. His wife, too, sensed their guests were exceptional and treated them with newfound respect.

Unseen, a faint whisper of “goodness” echoed from the south.

Three days later, at night, the Southern Pole Star shone bright, as if casting its radiance upon the village. At that moment, from a valley behind the settlement, a delicate fragrance drifted. Cao Kong left a few pieces of silver in the room, then, accompanied by the Golden Leopard, slipped away under the cover of darkness.

The Golden Leopard picked up a wooden token, which began to gather starlight, guiding them forward.

Soon, they arrived under a willow tree.

Cao Kong fell silent; was this not the very scene from when Sun Wukong pursued the White Deer Spirit in olden tales?

As he hesitated, wondering whether to circle left thrice or right thrice, the light of the Southern Pole Star, as if summoned, shone through the token in the Golden Leopard’s hand and illuminated the willow tree.

A ripple of starlight spread, and rays of glowing mist emerged, carrying a fragrance even more intoxicating.

Cao Kong and the Golden Leopard stepped inside. Though it was a cave, the place was ever bright, as if it had stolen the light of sun and moon. Spiritual herbs, flowers, and fruits were everywhere.

“Brother, look!” cried the Golden Leopard, pointing ahead.

There stood a great mulberry tree, and beneath it, two figures played chess.

One had a large head, broad ears, and short stature, with kindly brows and a benevolent expression. The other, dressed in black, was cold-faced and severe, the very picture of forbidding austerity.

Both were deep in thought, apparently stymied by the state of the game.

Previously, Cao Kong had told the Golden Leopard to follow his heart. The leopard, fearless by nature, strode forward and stared at the board.

The chessboard was nineteen lines across, densely packed with black and white stones. At first glance, the game seemed fierce, but to a connoisseur, it was clear these were two hopeless amateurs.

The Golden Leopard, drawn to the kindly elder and wary of the stern one, naturally drifted to the elder’s side. Seeing the game stalled, the leopard brightened, took a white stone, and placed it on the board.

“Elder, five in a row—we win.”

“What kind of game is this?” the black-clad man said, dropping a stone of his own. “Once played, no taking back moves.”

“My brother told me, it’s called Five-in-a-Row. Get five together and you win,” the Golden Leopard replied matter-of-factly.

The elder was stunned—five in a row? But in the next moment, his eyes sparkled; this move was brilliant, resolving his predicament and opening up the board. He broke into a wide smile.

He immediately placed another stone, breaking the deadlock—vitality returned to the game.

He then looked at the Golden Leopard, his eyes clear and spirited, reflecting the leopard’s true form—a spotted golden beast.

He saw, too, a canopy of fortune above its head, a body shining golden as coins, suffused with a pure aura.

The elder could not help but praise, “Truly, a leopard blessed by fortune.”