The Kitchen God lay amid a pile of dust that was once part of the wall, his straw body caked with soot from the cooking fires of almost half a year. The once bright red ribbons that formed his head, waist, wrist, and ankles were faded and frayed, making the effigy appear unwanted rather than the friendly spirit that Yin Su confided in as she cooked. A newly formed crack in the wall allowed sunlight to shine through. Most of the clay storage pots were intact but had spilled their contents of millet and rice over the floor. One pot was shattered. 

Yin Su picked up the Kitchen God and brushed the dust away. The Kitchen God knows everything. Would he record the shaking earth and tell of its consequences to the Jade Emperor at the next festival of the New Year? As she placed the small effigy in the folds of her clothing she felt movement in her hand. Had the straw effigy moved? She retrieved him from her pocket and stared at it. Yin Su blinked. Was a face forming on top of the dirty straw? The object in her hand felt alive, like a newborn kitten barely moving, looking about with unseeing eyes. She instinctively softened her grip to not cause harm and realized she was holding the inert Kitchen God effigy. She laughed at her foolishness and felt her unborn son kick. That must be the movement she had felt. She rubbed her hand over her belly. “It was you,” she said as she began the cleanup. “Do not worry. You are safe.”

She took up the sleeping mats and shook out the dust. She uprighted her prized bronze cook pot and prepared a fire to boil water for millet porridge for the evening meal. When the water boiled she added the millet and a small slice of ginger for flavor. Porridge would warm their bellies on this cool evening. Her husband would be hungry when he returned. The sun was low on the horizon. He would be home soon.

She heard her husband’s voice before she saw him. As he entered the courtyard, he was talking with a slender man dressed in simple clothing. Yin Su could not help but stare. The man was much shorter than her broad-shouldered husband, making him look even more slender than he actually was. His wizened face resembled the gnarled trees at the highest level of the mountain. A face that spoke of years of expressive conversation. Strands of white shimmered in his long hair. His facial hair was sparse and formed a long thin mustache and beard hanging almost to his waist. He walked steadily, but slowly. Purposefully. He disappeared behind her husband as they turned toward the house. He was transparent, yet substantive. Then he was in sight again. He seemed to float as he walked next to her husband. Yin Su squinted her eyes to better see. Was he really there? There was something about him that commanded attention. He reminded Yin Su of the tutor she had as a child who gave lessons to the Great Lord’s sons. The tutor who praised her penmanship and laughed at her wit. The tutor who encouraged her learning even though she was merely daughter to the cook. 

Then the Traveler turned in her direction and she saw his eyes. Dark, piercing, laughing, serious. Yin Su let out a barely audible gasp. She suddenly felt as if this stranger were looking deep inside her. Could he see her thoughts, her innermost emotions? She became lightheaded. Transparent. Dissolving into nothing, yet everything. She had no substance, yet she encompassed everything. She knew nothing, she understood everything. 

Then, just as quickly she was herself again standing in front of the cook stove watching the water in the pot boil. She blinked and stared at the stranger.

It mattered not who he was. He would be an extra mouth for the evening meal. Yin Su added more water and millet to the porridge pot. 

“Wife! A Traveler will stay with us tonight. The shaking earth has jammed the gate and he cannot continue on his journey. Make ready an extra sleeping mat.”

Yin Su caught her husband’s eye then lowered hers, indicating she wished to speak with him privately. He stepped to her side. “Husband, no.” Yin Su spoke quietly, directly to her husband. “It is the final moon phase before birth. I have begun taking herbs in preparation. It is not auspicious to have a stranger in the house during this time.”

Yin Su watched her husband sway back and forth shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he often did when faced with a decision he did not want to make. It always mystified Yin Su that her husband made decisions every day concerning passage through Hangu Pass, yet he wavered on household decisions, especially about the birth of his son. Surely he had not forgotten the birth rituals. They must be followed strictly to ensure a good outcome and a healthy son. “You can stay in the birthing hut,” he proclaimed loudly. “The gods understand this unusual situation. I am sure they will look upon us with favor as we help this Traveler. You think too much of omens.”

“Yes, Husband.” Yin Su nodded in acquiescence and stole another look at the Traveler. His dark eyes were taking in the scene before him. He looked amused. 

Yin Su prepared a sleeping mat for the visitor and went about returning her household to order. She cleaned three bowls and spoons. She was curious about the condition of the gate but did not speak to her husband while he was talking with the visitor. She listened for information. Having a visitor during the last month of pregnancy was an ill omen. She put his sleeping mat in the farthest corner of the house away from the birthing hut.

“Welcome, Traveler,” said her husband. “My home is humble but will provide shelter for the night.”

The Traveler nodded. “Thank you, Gatekeeper. The gods have given us a challenge. I welcome your hospitality.”

Her Husband led the Traveler to a low table used for eating in the common area of the house. They both sat cross-legged on mats across from each other. 

Yin Su ladled steaming porridge into two bowls and set one in front of her Husband and one in front of the Traveler. Her Husband picked up his bowl and the Traveler did likewise. Yin Su lowered her eyes and moved to the courtyard, just outside the door. She would not eat until the men had their fill. Her stomach growled and the baby kicked. She made sure she was within earshot in case something was needed.

Yin Su watched her husband take a spoonful of the porridge and bring it to his mouth. He savored the aroma and pressed the spoon against his lips to test the temperature. He tasted it and let the flavor circulate in his mouth. He never failed to go through this simple ritual at each meal. Yin Su never commented on his simple obsession. It was enough that he enjoyed the porridge. It was a humble dish, nourishing and plentiful, a plain, simple meal. He ate the spoonful and nodded to the Traveler indicating that the food was acceptable. The Traveler, in turn, took a spoonful into his mouth. He seemed pleased with the taste and nodded back to his host. Yin Su receded into the shadow of the courtyard to wait for them to finish so she could eat. She kept an ear to their conversation.

“So, Traveler, where do you call home? Your farm is nearby?” The Gatekeeper began polite conversation.

 “Ah, Gatekeeper, I do not farm.”

“But you dress as a farmer.”

“I dress modestly. I do not wish to deceive, only to travel without consequence. If I resemble a farmer, so much the better; but I live, or I should say, I lived in the capital city.”

“What brings you to our remote location? Where is your destination? There is only wilderness outside the gate.”

“My destination is the future. I know not how it will unfold. I could no longer tolerate the corruption and decline of morals in the city. I had to leave.”

“The future. Hmm.” The Gatekeeper paused. “I sometimes think of my future. Yet my path is not clear. I desire honor and respect that is due me.”

“Your work here is important.”

“But I am far from the city. My superiors can not see how hard I work. I have been here several years and nothing.”

“You seem to have a good life.”

“My job is thankless. Even my wife does not honor me.”

“No?”

“She has not produced a son.”

“She may yet. Will you be happy then?”

“Of course.”

“Be careful of something you prize too much.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“When one has a prized possession, often one does not enjoy it for its true worth but becomes obsessed with the possibility that it will be taken away. A son is a valuable thing. When in public you will hide the reality of a son for fear he will be stolen. When one owns a precious jewel, he cannot wear it in a ring for all to see for fear of loss. The jewel is instead hidden away.”

“But I would still have the honor of having a son.”

“Honor comes from others. Anything that comes from another can be taken away.”

“You talk in riddles.”

The Traveler laughed. “I have seen fortunes grow and fortunes dwindle. Men are honored and then they are disgraced. I have recorded the rise and fall of many in my job as archivist.” 

“Archivist?”

“Records must be kept.”

The Gatekeeper kept his eyes on the Traveler. He spoke slowly, picking his words carefully. “There is talk of one in the capital city who defies many traditions. He talks of new ways. He is tolerated because he has given wise counsel in the past. They say he is an archivist.” 

The Traveler stared into his bowl of porridge. 

Yin Su half listened to the conversation. She had heard her husband engage in light conversation many times before. He had a charming way with strangers and many were impressed with his position as gatekeeper at this important point in the road. But she had not heard his tone change as she heard it change now. Her husband was becoming animated in his gestures and tone. As she walked into the room her husband was holding his bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other mid-air between the bowl and his mouth. He was staring at the Traveler as if he were trying to figure something out. The Traveler eagerly ate the porridge. Yin Su approached the table.

“Do you desire more porridge?” She stood before the Traveler. When they both turned in her direction, she lowered her eyes, bowed her head, and waited for the answer. 

Her husband’s attention returned to the Traveler. “Could you be this person?”

Yin Su raised her eyes to look back and forth at her Husband and the Traveler, neither of which acknowledged her presence.

The Traveler put down his bowl and turned to the Gatekeeper. “I, too, have heard such talk. There are many who roam the streets and approach the gates of Great Houses wanting to provide guidance in exchange for a hot meal. Perhaps some of them are also archivists.”

“Perhaps. But the one I speak of is special. He has access to the Great Houses and does not need to beg. I hear he grows weary of rites without logic and rules that do not satisfy.” The Gatekeeper raised his eyebrows and continued staring at the Traveler. 

The Traveler put down his bowl and said, “Your description seems to fit. Perhaps I am the man of whom you speak.”

The Gatekeeper smiled broadly. Then the smile vanished. “I have done you a disservice. Please forgive my bad manners. The food my wife served is not worthy of your position. My wife will prepare a better meal tomorrow.”

“This is actually quite good.” The Traveler looked at Yin Su.

 Her husband finally noticed her standing before them. “What do you want?”

Yin Su lowered her eyes and bowed her head. “I only offered more porridge.”

Her husband spoke loudly, hands in the air dismissing her. “Our guest does not want more of this dish. He will wait until tomorrow when you have had enough time to prepare a fitting meal.” 

Yin Su kept her head bowed. She was not quite sure what had just happened, and she did not want to inquire of her husband in front of a guest. She walked out of the room and kept her ears keen to the conversation.

The Traveler looked at the Gatekeeper. “And what do they say of me, these people who talk so much.”

“They say you are wise and knowledgeable. They say the old ways should make room for the new. They say you have seen much of those who rule and you know the truth.”

“Idle chatter does not contain the full truth. Ideas, philosophies can be misinterpreted, misunderstood.”

“Once again with riddles. Then the truths should be written down. Written concepts can be understood by all. You must write your philosophies. I wish to learn.”

The Traveler looked at The Gatekeeper.

The Gatekeeper put down his porridge bowl. He straightened his posture, took a deep breath, and peered directly into the eyes of the Traveler. He spoke slowly, emphasizing each word. “The gods have brought you here at this time. While the gate is repaired you can write your wisdom. Here. Now. I have everything you need.” 

The excited Gatekeeper went to a small writing desk and got out brushes for writing, an ink stone, bamboo, and a small water container. 

The Traveler watched the excited Gatekeeper gather the writing implements and considered the proposal for a moment before nodding in agreement. The Gatekeeper beamed.

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