The wine was good, clear as water, rippling with layers of undulation as it was poured into the cup. The liquid clung to the inner wall, presenting a crystal-clear sheen. A fragrance, like orchids and flowers, drilled straight into the nostrils. Even I, who knew nothing of wine, felt my Adam's apple bob, yearning to taste the delicacy.
The dishes were exquisite, perfect in color and aroma. Each one was crafted to perfection. Even without eating, the scent proclaimed them to be fine dishes, making one wish to pick up chopsticks and taste them immediately.
The fruits were ones I had never seen before, their fragrance intense, their aroma filling the air. Just smelling them made my mouth water involuntarily, and I longed to take a bite.
This thought lingered in my mind, and I almost acted on it several times, but ultimately, I forced myself to resist. I could not eat, smell, or even look.
I told myself again and again that all these things before me were illusions, that they were fake. These delicacies, made from who knows what, looked so tempting and smelled so fragrant, but who knew what they were truly made of?
I still remembered the first time I learned Yin Gua with my master. He once told me a story.
It was many years ago, the exact year unclear to my master, but it was likely during the Republic of China era.
There was a midwife renowned throughout the surrounding villages as a skilled hand. Almost no child delivered by her perished. In those days, infant mortality was a common occurrence, so she lived better than anyone else, though only to the extent of having enough to eat and wear.
One day, as dusk began to fall, two men suddenly arrived, requesting the midwife's services. The midwife did not greet them warmly, as she had her own rules for deliveries.
She had to be notified in advance, and a wheelbarrow had to be prepared to transport her, as she had bound feet and could not walk long distances. Furthermore, she did not deliver at night, as the dim lighting could lead to errors. Although childbirth was not time-bound, no one dared break her rules.
But on this particular night, two men arrived, insisting she go immediately. They stated that a vehicle was already prepared and they were to leave at once.
The midwife instinctively refused. She did not want to jeopardize her reputation for delivering live babies by working at night. However, these two men were not to be trifled with. They drew their knives, stating that the payment for the delivery would be substantial. Otherwise, they would kill her, and she would never deliver babies again.
Faced with a choice between her rules and her life, it was a foregone conclusion that anyone would choose life. The midwife was no exception and had no choice but to pack her things and go with them.
They traveled at breakneck speed. The midwife felt the wind whistling past her ears, so strong it made her eyes water. Yet, the vehicle was pushed with incredible smoothness. Only when the wind subsided did the vehicle stop.
Before her stood a grand mansion. The gate alone was over three meters high, and the entrance was adorned with eight dragon lanterns. Inside, countless maids and servants were all waiting for the midwife's arrival.
Having worked as a midwife her entire life, she had never witnessed such a grand spectacle. She felt both joy and fear. Joy because if she delivered successfully, the reward would be enough for her to live comfortably for many lifetimes. Fear because if she failed, her own life would be in jeopardy.
With a conflicted expression, she followed the maids into the delivery room. It was not as brightly lit as she had imagined, but rather somewhat dim, which displeased the midwife.
"A woman giving birth is like walking through the gates of hell. How can I deliver a baby in such dim light? This will ruin my skills..."
In response to the midwife's complaints, the maid who brought her in explained that the madam disliked bright lights. They knew she was the best midwife in the region, and this small difficulty should not be a problem for her. The reward would be ample if she succeeded.
Praised by the maid and assured of generous payment, the midwife's face lit up. She declared that it was no problem; if the madam disliked light, she would deliver in the dark. She had done it before.
When the loud cry of a baby echoed, the midwife rejoiced. She had earned enough for her coffin for the rest of her life. After cutting the umbilical cord, as a reflex, she grabbed the baby by the feet and spanked its bottom.
But as soon as she touched it, the midwife froze. She knew very well what a newborn baby looked like. Why did this baby have a tail behind its buttocks?
Yes, when she felt it, it was a tail, somewhat like a newborn puppy's tail, soft and smooth to the touch, covered in lanugo.
As she stood there stunned, a maid took the baby and told the midwife that the madam had another child in her womb and urged her to deliver quickly. If the baby died in the womb, she would face severe consequences.
The midwife, possessing a strong mental fortitude, felt terrified but persisted. After delivering more than ten babies, no more emerged.
She felt the buttocks of each child and discovered that every one of them had a tail. The midwife was so frightened she nearly fainted. What was she delivering babies for? Why did they all have tails?
After the deliveries, the maids and servants escorted the midwife to the main hall. The man who had fetched her earlier was seated in the main seat. Although the hall was lit, the midwife could not see his face clearly. It felt as if a black veil was covering his face.
"Midwife, you have worked hard. I have ordered red eggs and noodles as a reward for your labor, and I have prepared some gold beans for you to take home later."
The midwife was already petrified and dared not eat anything. As for the reward, she had long forgotten about it. Her only thought was to leave this place, return home quickly, and forget everything, burying it deep within her.
She secretly pocketed one of the red eggs and took a few strands of noodles without daring to eat them. She stated that her elderly husband was alone at home and she was worried, requesting someone to escort her back.
The burly man said nothing more and arranged for a servant to send the midwife back. The return journey was as swift as before, if not faster. This time, the midwife, having learned her lesson, scratched the vehicle with her fingernail. To her surprise, the wooden vehicle's crossbeam snapped. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was made of common sorghum stalks.
To ensure her safe arrival home, the midwife dared not utter a word, allowing them to push her home. Upon reaching home, the old woman finally breathed a sigh of relief.
After the escorts left, she used her home's kerosene lamp to examine the red egg and noodles she had secretly taken. Upon closer inspection, she discovered that the noodles were live earthworms, and the red-skinned eggs were horse dung. As for the reward of gold beans, they had turned into ordinary soybeans.
The midwife knew she had encountered a wild immortal. To prevent her husband from worrying, she kept the matter to herself.
The next day, she heard a pig squealing outside the courtyard. Upon opening the door, she saw two black wolves pushing a large fat pig towards her entrance. The two wolf heads bowed twice to the midwife before leaving.
It was then that she realized she had delivered wolf cubs the previous night, which explained their prolific breeding.
Afterward, the old woman inquired about the place she had gone to by instinct. People told her it was a wolf den, inhabited by countless wolves of all sizes. From then on, the midwife never delivered another baby.
When my master told me this story, I found it quite amusing. How could one not discern the truth or falsehood of a house? If this happened to me, I was sure I would see through it immediately. My master merely smiled, flicked my back with a bamboo strip, and offered no explanation.
Now, I realized how naive I was. I knew that everything before me was fake, and I kept telling myself it was an illusion, yet I could not break through it, nor could I see through it.
This bizarre scene was even more uncanny than what the midwife had encountered.
"The wine is good, the dishes are delicacies. Why don't you taste them first, and then judge if they are real or fake?" The person seemed to be able to read my mind and spoke.
"I know everything before me is fake, an illusion. If you want something, show me your hand. I will meet you. Why bother with these deceptive things to fool me?" As I spoke, I intended to overturn the table before me to express my anger.
But when I tried to lift it, I couldn't. It turned out the tables were made of stone, perfectly embedded in the ground.
I felt so embarrassed that I wished the ground would swallow me whole. It was too humiliating.
"I will give you two conditions to choose from. Whether you live or die depends entirely on yourself."
"Show me your hand..."