Chapter 77: A Staggering Display of Skill

After Teng Guoyuan finished casting the divination, he paused in silence for a moment, then announced loudly, “I have cast three hexagrams. The first is Fire over Heaven, Great Possession; the second, Heaven over Lake, Treading; the third, The Traveler.”

When I heard Teng Guoyuan reveal the hexagrams, I was utterly astonished and whispered in surprise, “Anqi was right—this Teng Guoyuan is no ordinary man.”

“What’s so impressive about casting three hexagrams?” Yue Qianling asked, quite puzzled.

“In most cases, people use the same method to divine, but Teng Guoyuan used three different techniques: the Eight Trigrams of the Zhouyi, the Sixty-Four Hexagrams of King Wen, and the Plum Blossom Numerology. By cross-referencing these three methods, the divination becomes far more accurate; yet, very few possess such skill. It’s clear Teng Guoyuan has mastered and integrated all forms of divination. He’s indeed a true expert,” I replied with great admiration.

Teng Guoyuan looked up and explained to Gu Xiaotian with conviction, “The Treading hexagram states: ‘The phoenix lands on Mount Qishan, its cry heralds the coming of the sage. Heaven bestows King Wen with the founding of a dynasty, bringing wealth and glory for eight centuries. “Treading” means to step cautiously, advancing but not rushing. The image is of a phoenix singing atop Mount Qi—a rare, auspicious bird rarely seen by man. Its sudden song upon the mountain signifies the emergence of King Wen and the flourishing of the Zhou dynasty.’”

Lowering my head in contemplation, I quietly muttered, “This hexagram, paired with the first—Fire over Heaven, Great Possession—truly complements it…”

“A fine bird seeks a good tree to nest in; the phoenix sings atop Mount Qi, seeking the finest perch. The first hexagram, Great Possession, signifies abundance—‘where all things converge, above and below in harmony.’ Thus, there is the omen of ‘cutting the tree to catch the sparrow.’ A man, spotting a bird in a tree, desires to catch it, but fearing it might escape, he fells the tree to ensure he seizes his prize,” Teng Guoyuan continued confidently. “The last hexagram is The Traveler. ‘The bird burns its own nest’—a dire omen. Taken together, the three hexagrams tell this story: the phoenix alights on a fine tree, someone seeks to cut it down and capture the bird, but the phoenix destroys its own nest, thwarting his plan.”

As he spoke, a confident smile played at Teng Guoyuan’s lips. He glanced at the dish before him and declared, “This dish must be ‘Phoenix Nesting!’”

Gu Xiaotian nodded with a faint, inscrutable smile, signaling his attendants to lift the cover.

Beneath the silver dome, sure enough, was a fragrant, beautiful dish: Phoenix Nesting!

Once Teng Guoyuan was seated, only three seats remained, yet no one else moved. Though the other participants all had some standing, divining in such a public contest was a serious matter. To be wrong was embarrassing enough, but to tarnish one’s own reputation could be disastrous. Moreover, this was already the fifth round; the difficulty increased each time, and without absolute confidence, none dared to take the risk.

Song Hui was, apart from Ouyang Cuo, the only other contestant whose background I knew. Throughout, Song Hui had been calm and unhurried, as if waiting for something. When Teng Guoyuan sat down, Song Hui finally stepped forward.

“I’ll try my luck as well,” Song Hui said, approaching the table without casting a hexagram. Instead, he glanced at those already seated and remarked with ease, “The first four have already taken their seats—congratulations! Each of you sits in one direction, occupying east, south, west, and north, making four. Four above, six below gives us, in the Eight Trigrams of the Zhouyi, the thirty-seventh hexagram—Wind over Fire, The Family!”

I murmured in amazement, “I didn’t expect Song Hui to be even more impressive!”

“But he didn’t even cast a hexagram. How do you know he’s skilled?” Yue Qianling asked curiously.

“It’s not that he didn’t cast a hexagram—rather, there was no way to do so. The matter has already been divined three times or more; any further would be meaningless. Song Hui assessed the situation and used those already seated to derive a hexagram, creating a change. In change, there is opportunity. It seems Song Hui’s skill has reached the level where anything can serve as a hexagram—effortless mastery.”

After pondering a moment, Song Hui slowly raised his head and stated with certainty, “The Family hexagram—when the woman cooks well, the family prospers. Now, it is the hour of the Boar, and the Boar corresponds to pork. The dish I’ve chosen faces east; east represents wood, and wood governs the liver. So, it must be pork liver. The four seated before form the image of ‘**’—so, this dish is ‘** Pork Liver!’”

‘** Pork Liver’ is a famous Quanzhou specialty, and just as Song Hui deduced, beneath the silver dome was a plate of beautifully colored, delicious pork liver.

Only two seats remained. I stayed put, but Ouyang Cuo finally stepped forward, and I watched him intently.

“Yan Hui… why haven’t you chosen a dish yet?” Lan Qing was visibly anxious. “The later it gets, the harder it is to divine accurately. If Ouyang Cuo gets his right, only one spot will remain. The final divination will be extremely difficult. I’m really worried…”

Hearing this, Yue Leiting’s forehead was beaded with sweat, and Yue Qianling nervously wrung her hands. Only Xiao Lianshan remained serene, unconcerned. “Don’t fret—my brother won’t lose. He’s just waiting for the grand finale. Think how magnificent it’ll be for him to take the last seat.”

I kept silent, my stomach churning with discomfort, but I never took my eyes off Ouyang Cuo.

Ouyang Cuo stood before the table, looked at the five who were already seated, clasped his hands and said calmly, “I thank you all. Including myself, there are six of us. I am the sixth to divine. Using six as the variable, those above sixty years are yang, below sixty, yin. Based on the order in which everyone is seated, I can cast a hexagram!”

Qing, who had been silent, nodded in genuine approval. “I once heard Master say: ‘All things under heaven are the Dao; the Way is inherent in everything.’ For Ouyang Cuo to divine without tools, yet have the hexagram in his heart, to let anything become a hexagram at will—his skill surpasses the other five. There is always a higher mountain.”

“My divination yields the twenty-seventh hexagram of the Zhouyi—Nourishment. The image says: ‘Abandon your sacred turtle and watch me savor my food’—meaning, one should forsake their own means and observe another’s way of eating…” Ouyang Cuo spoke unhurriedly.

“What’s there to think about? He mentioned a turtle, so the dish must involve turtle,” Xiao Lianshan muttered dismissively.

“How could it be that simple? If everyone interpreted the hexagram literally, anyone could divine. Interpreting the hexagram is much harder than casting it. It all depends on one’s understanding of the Eight Trigrams and insight into the situation,” Lan Qing replied levelly.

Ouyang Cuo shook his head with a meaningful smile and said, “This is a false hexagram, concealing the real one. Five came before me; I am the sixth. The changing line is at Nine-Five, which leads to the eighth hexagram—Union. The image of Union’s Nine-Five is: ‘Manifest Union. The king uses three drives, yet lets the prey escape; the people are unafraid. Auspicious.’ This means: the king hunts, surrounds on three sides, but allows the beasts to escape—he does not slay them.”

After pausing to reflect, Ouyang Cuo smiled calmly and explained, “Not slaying—no blood. This dish should be fowl, but during cooking, no blood is shed. My zodiac is the Rooster, and a bloodless chicken dish… I happen to know one—this must be Wind-Dried Chicken!”

The silver dome was lifted, revealing a plate of gaunt, wind-dried chicken.

“Of all the dishes, this is the least appetizing. How does it deserve a place at the feast?” Xiao Lianshan complained.

“This is a renowned Tibetan dish, requiring a special technique. One must pluck, eviscerate, season, sew, and hang the chicken with great speed—all without spilling blood. The chicken must still be alive during the process. Then it hangs like a wind chime, clucking in the snowy wind—a striking sight,” Gu Anqi explained with authority.

Xiao Lianshan shuddered, never expecting such a simple dish to be made in such a brutal manner.

Now, only the last seat remained. As soon as Ouyang Cuo sat down, I walked over and took the final seat without hesitation.

At once, the courtyard erupted in commotion. Yue Leiting was dumbfounded, exchanging a baffled glance with Lan Qing. They didn’t know what to say.

Gu Xiaotian remained as composed as ever, raising his hand to restore order.

“Did you understand the rules I explained earlier?” he asked.

I nodded, didn’t even bother to choose a dish, and pointed at the silver dome before me with a smile. “Mapo Tofu!”

Gu Xiaotian frowned, exchanged glances with Kong Guan and Wei Yu at his side. Compared to the previous six, I seemed almost too relaxed, even leaving others at a loss. I hadn’t cast or interpreted any hexagrams—hadn’t even thought, just blurted it out.

As the silver dome was slowly lifted, nearly everyone in the courtyard stood up in unison, eager to see if I was right…

…