Chapter Three: The Spinning Top Pavilion

After parting ways with Bu Yuan, Fang Guohuan traveled alone. Having wandered the land with his master, Fang Lan, he was well accustomed to such solitary journeys. Although he felt a certain loneliness and loss, he adapted quickly. His only wish was to reach Tianyuan Temple as soon as possible, to seek the guidance of a true master and further his skills in the art of Go. From a young age, Fang Guohuan had studied Go under Fang Lan and had become thoroughly enchanted by its mysteries. He believed the game was boundless in its complexity and dreamed of attaining the highest mastery. With this purpose in mind, he endured the hardships of the road—meager meals, nights spent under the open sky, fatigue and discomfort—persisting with determination.

After several days on the road, he encountered a caravan of merchants. Seeing the young traveler journeying alone, they welcomed him into their company. Upon reaching Zhengzhou, the caravan continued on toward Xuzhou, and Fang Guohuan went his own way toward Xuchang.

One day, he arrived at a town called Wu Family Market. After traveling for so long, he felt hungry and thirsty and sought out a teahouse for something to eat. As he walked along the street, a sudden commotion arose—a burly man was chasing a boy of about twelve or thirteen, swinging a thick wooden stick. The boy, clutching his head, fled desperately. Just as Fang Guohuan watched in astonishment, another man darted from the crowd, seized the boy around the waist, and threw him to the ground, shouting triumphantly, “Got you now! Tiger Lord, I’ve caught him!” Clearly, an accomplice had arrived. The burly man sneered, “Ah Xi, perfect timing,” and began to beat the boy mercilessly, not caring where the blows landed. The boy, battered and rolling on the ground, remained stubbornly silent, gritting his teeth.

Among the onlookers, some whispered, “What could this child have done to offend Wu the Tiger, to deserve such a beating? How pitiful!” The more timid among them shrank away. Fang Guohuan, unable to witness the cruelty any longer, called out, “Stop!” and stepped from the crowd. The sudden intervention from a stranger startled everyone. Wu the Tiger hesitated, his raised stick lowering as he eyed Fang Guohuan, asking coldly, “Boy, what do you want? Why meddle in others’ affairs?”

Fang Guohuan bowed politely. “I am a traveler. If there is reason, let’s discuss it—why do you beat him so wantonly?” The rogue called Ah Xi, emboldened by Wu the Tiger’s presence, snarled, “This brat owes our Tiger Lord money. What, you want a beating too?” He barred Fang Guohuan’s path.

Unfazed, Fang Guohuan addressed Wu the Tiger, “How much does this young brother owe you? I will repay it for him.” He could not bear to see the boy suffer further and wished to help him. His offer caused a stir among the crowd; the boy on the ground looked up at Fang Guohuan with gratitude and a hint of disbelief.

Wu the Tiger burst into laughter, then abruptly stopped and glared menacingly at Fang Guohuan. “How do you intend to repay his debt?” Fang Guohuan, resolved, replied, “A debt must be repaid. How much does he owe you?” Wu the Tiger waved five fingers before Fang Guohuan’s eyes—five hundred taels? Fang Guohuan’s heart tightened. “Five taels of silver!” Wu the Tiger pressed forward. At this, the boy cried out, “No, it’s only one tael!” Wu the Tiger roared, “With my interest, it comes to five!” He turned, intending to continue beating the boy.

Fang Guohuan, relieved it was only five taels, chose not to quarrel further. He quickly stepped forward, “Please, wait. I’ll pay your five taels.” He withdrew a bundle from his coat, selected a five-tael silver ingot, and handed it to Wu the Tiger. “The debt is repaid. Please release this brother.”

But Fang Guohuan had been a bit careless—the rogue Ah Xi had noticed the amount of silver in his bundle. Wu the Tiger snatched the ingot without further trouble, nodded at Ah Xi, and said, “Ah Xi, it’s over, let’s go.” Ah Xi cast Fang Guohuan a spiteful look and followed Wu the Tiger through the crowd. The onlookers praised Fang Guohuan’s generosity, but with nothing more to see, they soon dispersed.

Fang Guohuan helped the boy to his feet. “Are you all right, brother?” The boy bowed deeply. “Thank you for saving me.” Fang Guohuan hurried to lift him. “No need for formality, it’s over now. Go home, and don’t get involved with such villains again.” The boy’s face darkened; he lowered his head and sighed, “I have no home.” Fang Guohuan was taken aback, feeling a kinship in their shared misfortune. He offered comfort, “Perhaps you have relatives you can turn to?” The boy shook his head. “My parents died young. Two years ago, my uncle and aunt drove me out. I have no one left in this world.” Tears welled in his eyes.

Fang Guohuan had noticed the boy’s resilience under the beating, yet now, recounting his hardships, grief finally brought him to tears. Fang Guohuan’s heart ached. “You and I are the same—both homeless and alone.” The boy looked up, surprised to hear Fang Guohuan was also without family, and quickly wiped his tears. “Brother, you are so righteous. From now on, follow me, Luo Kun. I promise you’ll never go hungry.” Fang Guohuan laughed, “No hunger, but you’re always being chased and beaten.” The boy blushed at this. Fang Guohuan smiled, “So your name is Luo Kun—Brother Luo, then. I am Fang Guohuan. Let’s be friends.” Luo Kun was delighted, though a bit embarrassed. “Brother Fang, I’ll find a way to repay you the five taels.” Fang Guohuan shook his head. “Money is nothing. Don’t worry about it. Come, let’s get something to eat.” Luo Kun’s gratitude deepened. He searched his pockets but found nothing, flushing with embarrassment. “I should treat you, Brother Fang, but...” Fang Guohuan smiled, “There’s no need for such formality between us.” And he led Luo Kun into a nearby eatery.

Noticing dirt and blood on Luo Kun’s face, Fang Guohuan asked the proprietor for a basin of water and helped him wash up. With the grime gone, Fang Guohuan saw that Luo Kun was actually a handsome youth. They ordered two bowls of meat broth and a dozen buns. Luo Kun ate heartily, clearly famished, so Fang Guohuan ordered more buns for him. Luo Kun, moved, vowed, “Brother Fang is truly kind to me—I will repay you with my life if needed.”

After their meal, they left the eatery. Luo Kun asked, “Brother Fang, where are you headed?” Fang Guohuan answered, “I’m going to a place called Lianyun Mountain, seeking somewhere to settle. Since you have no home, why not come along? We can find a place together.” At this, Luo Kun unexpectedly burst into tears. Fang Guohuan, surprised, asked, “Why cry? Do you not wish to travel with me?” Luo Kun shook his head hastily. “I’m just overwhelmed. I’m so happy you’d take me in. No matter how hard the journey, I’m willing.” Fang Guohuan laughed, “Then from now on, we are brothers, sharing joys and hardships.” Luo Kun was overjoyed, knelt, and bowed. “Brother Fang, please accept my respects.” Fang Guohuan quickly raised him, and the two brothers clasped hands in friendship.

As dusk approached, Fang Guohuan suggested they find lodging for the night and continue at dawn. Luo Kun said, “There’s an old, abandoned temple outside town called the Top Spinning Temple. A Daoist used to live there, but he’s been gone for years. It’s where I stay—if you don’t mind the dirt, you can spend the night.” Fang Guohuan agreed, “Shelter from the wind and rain is enough—let’s go.” Luo Kun, delighted, led Fang Guohuan out of town.

As they left the street, Fang Guohuan saw a Daoist sitting by the road. Before him lay a yellowed cloth on which a Go board was drawn, a difficult endgame arranged. Beside it, charcoal characters read: “Solve this problem and win two taels of silver.” Fang Guohuan was intrigued and stopped to study it. Luo Kun said, “Let’s go, Brother Fang. That Daoist has been here for ages. No one has ever solved his problem—the silver is just bait.” Fang Guohuan replied, “No harm in looking.” The Daoist, seeing the youths stop, smiled. “Do you play Go, young friends?” Fang Guohuan studied the board, nodded to himself, then picked up a black stone and made a move. The Daoist was surprised by the response, but after considering Fang Guohuan’s move, his face brightened and he replied with a white stone. Fang Guohuan followed with another black move. The Daoist, after a long look, suddenly laughed, stood up, and exclaimed, “Young master, you are truly a national player! I have been troubled by this endgame for a year, thinking none could solve it, but your brilliant move has enlightened me and resolved my regret. My thanks!” He bowed deeply to Fang Guohuan.

Luo Kun was stunned, marveling at Fang Guohuan’s skill. The Daoist took out several pieces of silver, offering them with both hands. “A small token for resolving my puzzle.” Luo Kun was overjoyed, “Excellent! Brother Fang could become a rich man at this rate!” But Fang Guohuan, knowing the Daoist’s intent was not profit but to resolve a Go dilemma, politely declined. “It was nothing—how could I accept your silver?” The Daoist insisted, but Fang Guohuan smiled and refused, pulling Luo Kun away. The Daoist watched them go, standing lost in thought, then packed up his board and left, sighing with relief. Luo Kun praised Fang Guohuan’s skill and generosity as they made their way to the abandoned temple on the outskirts.

The temple was in ruins, overgrown and cobwebbed. Beneath the incense altar was a pile of straw—Luo Kun’s bed. Fang Guohuan felt a pang of sorrow at the sight. Luo Kun said, “Brother Fang, this Top Spinning Temple is my home. It’s simple, but at least it’s free.” He pulled some planks from behind a headless statue, laid them on the altar, spread dry grass atop, and made a bed. “Please, Brother Fang, rest here.” Fang Guohuan thanked him, and the two spent the night in the temple, talking late into the night. The temple grew dark; night fell. The brothers spoke long into the night, Luo Kun especially excited, until both drifted off to sleep.

Exhausted from travel, Fang Guohuan slept deeply. At some point, he was awakened by choking smoke. Rising, he saw the temple filled with smoke and flames, and heard shouts outside. Alarmed, he realized Luo Kun was missing. The fire was growing fierce; he rushed out. Dawn was breaking. Looking back, he saw the temple engulfed in flames. He called for Luo Kun but received no answer. Farmers from nearby arrived; seeing Fang Guohuan unharmed, an old man said, “You’re lucky to be alive! A moment later and you’d have been burned alive.” Fang Guohuan asked, “Sir, did you see my brother Luo Kun?” The old man replied, “You mean the Luo boy who often stayed here? I saw him chase someone toward the riverbank as the fire started.” Fang Guohuan, alarmed, quickly asked for directions and hurried after him.

He followed the river for miles but found no sign of Luo Kun. On a branch, he saw a strip of bloodstained cloth, torn from Luo Kun’s clothing. His heart pounded with dread. He found traces of someone sliding down the riverbank and searched downstream but found nothing, calling out repeatedly to no avail. Fear gripped him—had disaster befallen Luo Kun?

Clinging to hope, Fang Guohuan returned to the burned temple. The fire had left nothing but smoking ruins. Staring at the charred walls, his tears flowed; his heart was overwhelmed with sorrow. He waited there two days, hoping Luo Kun might miraculously return. On the third day, accepting the worst, he left the ruins in grief, weeping as he went.

That night, after heartfelt conversation with Fang Guohuan, Luo Kun was too excited to sleep, thinking joyfully of future travels together. In a light doze, he heard noises outside and crept out to investigate. In the darkness, he saw a figure striking a fire—by the flash, he recognized the villain Ah Xi from town. Knowing trouble was afoot, Luo Kun rushed at him. Ah Xi, spooked, threw the burning straw aside and fled. Luo Kun, realizing Ah Xi’s murderous intent, gave chase, unwittingly leaving the burning straw to ignite the temple.

Ah Xi ran to the river, but Luo Kun pursued relentlessly. As dawn approached, Ah Xi, cornered, turned on Luo Kun, who was no match for the older man and was struck unconscious. Fearing Luo Kun would reveal his crime, Ah Xi, in a panic, dragged him to the river and pushed him in before fleeing.

By fortune, Luo Kun, unconscious, was rescued downstream by a fisherman. He awoke three days later, thanked his rescuer, and hurried back to the temple—only to find it in ruins. Believing Fang Guohuan had perished in the fire, Luo Kun collapsed in grief, sobbing loudly. His cries attracted an old farmer—Tian Weng, who had spoken to Fang Guohuan earlier—who comforted him, “Why do you weep, young Luo?” Luo Kun, recognizing him, cried, “My good brother died here because of me.” Tian Weng laughed, “You’re crying for the living.” Luo Kun, puzzled, asked, “What do you mean?” Tian Weng explained, “When the fire broke out, your brother escaped unharmed and searched for you for two days. I saw him leave yesterday morning, weeping.” Luo Kun was overjoyed at the news.

The fire had separated them—Fang Guohuan departed first, leaving Luo Kun desolate. After thanking Tian Weng, Luo Kun’s anger flared against Ah Xi and Wu the Tiger. A few nights later, he set fire to their homes, and the blaze spread to many others. Fearing official investigation, Luo Kun fled Wu Family Market, determined to find Fang Guohuan.

Remembering Fang Guohuan’s plan to go to Lianyun Mountain, Luo Kun asked everywhere, but few had heard of it. Even when he found places with the same name, they proved fruitless. Half a year passed; Luo Kun wandered far and wide but found no trace of Fang Guohuan. Though their friendship had lasted only a day, it had become as close as family to Luo Kun, who swore to search the ends of the earth to find him.

One day, weary from travel, Luo Kun sat by the roadside to rest. An old man riding a donkey approached, reciting poetry to himself—a learned and seasoned traveler by all appearances. Luo Kun thought, “Such an old man must know much; perhaps he knows Lianyun Mountain.” Approaching respectfully, Luo Kun asked, “Elder, may I trouble you for directions?” The old man stopped his donkey, “Where to? Ask away. I know the world’s geography—if it has a name, I know the place.” Luo Kun was delighted. “Do you know where Lianyun Mountain is?” The old man pondered, “I’ve heard of a precious mountain in Guandong. Its peak touches the clouds, shrouded in snow all year, meeting the clouds—could this be your mountain?” Hearing of a mountain joined with clouds, Luo Kun replied, “That must be it. How do I get there?” The old man, proud of his knowledge, explained, “From here, head to Shanhaiguan, leave the Great Wall, and go northeast. In Guandong, everyone knows this mountain. But beware, the Jurchens are fierce and wild.” Luo Kun thanked him and departed.

It was early autumn when Luo Kun arrived at Guping Town, a major border settlement inside Shanhaiguan. At this season, merchants from north and south gathered, making the town bustling and lively. Travelers of all types filled the streets, alone or in groups, each with their own purpose.

Luo Kun found a horse inn and thought, “I’ll rest here and cross the border tomorrow.” The inn was crowded—servants rushed about, serving guests, busy without respite. Luo Kun seized an opportunity to help the servants, who smiled gratefully at him. This was Luo Kun’s way—he preferred to work for his meal rather than beg outright, and it often worked, though sometimes he was ignored or driven away. Most times, he was treated kindly.

The work lasted until midnight before the guests dwindled. The servants invited Luo Kun to join them for supper. “You came just in time, brother, and helped us a lot,” one said. Another added, “If you have no place to stay, you can sleep in the woodshed tonight.” Luo Kun was grateful—just what he wanted. The innkeeper approached, smiling, and the servants respectfully greeted him. He gestured for them to sit and turned to Luo Kun, “Eat well, my boy. Where are you headed?” Luo Kun replied, “To Guandong, sir.” “Ah!” The innkeeper nodded, “I see. I usually don’t bother with vagrants, but you’re a smart lad. Would you like me to recommend a job?” Luo Kun shook his head, “Thank you, but I just want to go to Guandong.” The innkeeper smiled, “If you’re broke, what does it matter where you go? Let me be honest: there’s a wealthy merchant from Guangdong upstairs, leaving for Guandong tomorrow. He needs a smart helper. He comes here every year and trusts me, so he asked for help. If you go with him, you’ll have three meals a day and earn several taels by the time you return. If you agree, I’ll introduce you; if not, I’ll find someone else.” Luo Kun considered—this was a good chance to travel safely and see Guandong. He thanked the innkeeper and agreed. “If so, please help me get the job.” The innkeeper was pleased and took Luo Kun upstairs, instructing him, “If the merchant asks, say you’re a local boy.” Luo Kun agreed.

The innkeeper led Luo Kun to a guest room upstairs and knocked, “Mr. Wang, are you awake?” A voice replied, “Come in, Master Song.” Inside, a portly, dignified middle-aged man sat under the lamp—this was Wang Huai, a Guangdong merchant who traded in mountain goods and medicinal herbs in Guandong each autumn. The innkeeper pushed Luo Kun forward, “Mr. Wang, here is the boy I found—he’s hardworking.” Luo Kun bowed, “Luo Kun greets Mr. Wang.” Wang Huai, seeing his intelligence, nodded, “Very good. You’ll work by my side and will be well rewarded.” He handed two taels of silver to the innkeeper, “Thank you, Master Song. I’m satisfied with this boy—here’s something for your trouble.” The innkeeper, all smiles, accepted, “It’s my pleasure, sir. I’ll reward him too when you return.” With that, he took his leave.

Wang Huai, after the innkeeper left, went to the wall and tapped several times. Soon, a young man entered and bowed, “Uncle, what do you need?” Wang Huai pointed to Luo Kun, “He’s my new helper. Take him to rest—we leave early.” The young man, Wang Yunping, nodded. Wang Huai glanced at Luo Kun’s ragged clothes and said, “Yunping, find him a clean set from the servants’ things.” Wang Yunping obeyed and led Luo Kun next door. Two large beds were already occupied by members of the merchant party; some slept, others chatted. “Zhang Lu, find some clean clothes for our new helper,” Wang Yunping said. Zhang Lu was happy, “Another good hand for our team.” He found a blue robe and gave it to Luo Kun, “Here, brother—no charge.” Luo Kun thanked him. Wang Yunping told Luo Kun, “Sleep next to him,” and then lay down himself. Zhang Lu made room for Luo Kun, and when Wang Yunping called for quiet, everyone settled down for the night.

At dawn, the inn bustled with activity—horses harnessed, carts loaded, people shouting. Luo Kun ate a simple breakfast with the others and went to the courtyard, where he saw a caravan of more than ten large wagons and fifty men, most armed with bows and knives. A martial-looking man with a bow and saber rode a large blue horse at the head, followed by two burly apprentices. Zhang Lu told Luo Kun, “That’s our bodyguard, Huang Kui, hired by the boss to protect the caravan with his two disciples.” Wang Yunping, with Zhang Lu and Luo Kun, waited at the stairs for Wang Huai.

Soon, Wang Huai emerged, satisfied to see all in order. As he descended the stairs, his foot suddenly slipped—he tumbled headfirst down toward an abandoned grindstone at the bottom, to the horror of all present. Luo Kun, nearby, leapt forward without thinking and broke Wang Huai’s fall. The impact left Luo Kun dazed, but he had diverted Wang Huai away from the stone—otherwise, tragedy would have struck. Wang Yunping and Zhang Lu helped Wang Huai up; seeing he was unhurt, all breathed a sigh of relief. “Fortunate!” they exclaimed.

Wang Huai steadied himself, “That was close!” He helped Luo Kun up, grateful. “Brother Luo Kun, thank you for saving me. Are you all right?” Luo Kun, dazed, scratched his head, still uncertain what had happened, but smiled to see Wang Huai safe. Wang Huai, delighted, said, “Well done! Fate brought us together—last night I hired you, today you saved my life. Truly, I am lucky.”

The innkeeper, Song, arrived, pale with fright. Seeing Wang Huai safe, he apologized profusely. Wang Huai scolded, “Master Song, your shabby stairs nearly cost me my life. You’d best repair them before I return from Guandong, or you’ll lose your business.” Song promised to fix them. Wang Huai waved, “Prepare a horse for Brother Luo Kun; we’re leaving.” Zhang Lu brought a gentle horse, “This one will suit you.” The party mounted up and set out.

Wang Huai, grateful for Luo Kun’s rescue, rode beside him, speaking with new warmth. The others envied Luo Kun’s fortunate start and the favor shown him. In conversation, Wang Huai learned Luo Kun was an orphan, and his sympathy grew. When Luo Kun explained his journey, Wang Huai admired his loyalty and determination but realized Luo Kun was headed the wrong way. “There is no Lianyun Mountain in Guandong,” he said. “What you seek is Changbai Mountain.” Luo Kun was stunned, not knowing what to do. Wang Huai reassured him, “Don’t worry. When we return from Guandong, I’ll help you find your friend in the south.” Luo Kun thought, “It seems I must go with them for now, see Guandong, and later continue my search for Brother Fang.” He thanked Wang Huai, who was pleased with Luo Kun’s decision.