When he was young, Zhang Xiaoqi once thought becoming like Mr. Chen shouldn’t be too difficult a thing. But much later, he finally understood the aning behind the na “Mr. Chen.”
The Divine Crane was still in the backyard.
When Zhang Xiaoqi stepped into the backyard, Chen Changsheng looked at him again.
It was almost as if Mr. Chen knew he would return.
Zhang Xiaoqi looked at Mr. Chen, cupped his hands, and said, “Zhang Xiaoqi thanks Mr. Chen.”
Mr. Chen watched him calmly and shook his head.
That day, the boy in tattered clothes rode the Divine Crane.
Amid the mist-covered Green Mountains.
With one crane’s cry, in the blink of an eye, the world around him changed.
Mr. Chen lifted his eyes and watched the Divine Crane fly away until it vanished from sight.
Then, he saw Xiaoliu leaving the side hall of the Taoist Temple.
Chen Changsheng said, “He saw that letter. This way, perhaps it will truly be unforgettable.”
Zhang Xiaoliu breathed a sigh. “I understand. But Teacher, people are selfish after all. I’m no saint. I didn’t want Xiaoqi to forget his dad and mum completely one day.”
Chen Changsheng nodded slightly.
That was what made a living, breathing person.
Zhang Xiaoliu breathed out, closed his eyes, and said, “May his journey be smooth sailing, just as you said, Teacher. May he rise straight to great heights.”
From then on, there was no Zhang Xiaoqi left in Autumn Moon Market.
Zhang Wudi stood forever on the small hill outside Autumn Moon Market, staring at the mountain road beyond.
As for Zhang Xiaoliu, he walked between this hill every day. He would co early in the morning to offer three incense sticks, then walk all the way down, sweeping away weeds and moss from the stone steps.
Day after day, year after year.
For ti and again life proves unpredictable, and each person’s path winds differently through the Mortal World.
…
On the Tongtian River, a black-canopied boat arrived at the shore.
A man dressed in simple clothes stepped off the boat. He had a small moustache. Though his gaze was gentle, it held a hidden ambition.
After leaving the boat, he went to a nearby Tea Stall and asked for so tea to soothe his throat.
While drinking the tea, he suddenly looked toward a patch of bamboo forest.
He frowned, then walked toward it.
Hidden within the bamboo forest were several figures. As he entered, they all erged before him.
“Greetings, Lord!”
Dozens of Shadow Guards bowed low.
Zhao Zhen swept his eyes over them and frowned. “Did the old man teach you to hide this poorly? Either follow properly hidden, or don’t follow at all!”
The Shadow Guards exchanged embarrassed glances.
“All of you, stay far away! And these uniforms? Are you afraid people won’t recognize you as Shadow Guards? Change them!”
Zhao Zhen glared angrily. “Worthless fools! Useless, the lot of you!”
He snorted coldly, then turned back to the Tea Stall for his tea.
After drinking the tea, Zhao Zhen entered the nearby settlent.
This trip was a private, secret inspection. Only his Shadow Guards and trusted aides knew about it. The Imperial Court only knew he was ill. Two months wasn’t long, but it was enough.
Changchun Prefecture, next to the rivers, had long been wealthy in the Southern Region, paying substantial taxes every year.
Zhao Zhen observed the people’s lives and found the reality vastly different from what he’d imagined. Officials judged cases unfairly, bribes were common. Just walking around, he learned much.
But he wasn’t surprised. Heading south, he’d seen much of this.
At the local level, things differed greatly from Shangjing.
Hypocrites filled every office.
Yet now wasn’t the ti to deal with them. Zhao Zhen decided to finish his inspection first, then handle these matters.
Arrest those who must be arrested. Kill those who must be killed.
After nightfall, Zhao Zhen joined the bustle at a Wine Tavern. He heard talk of a poetry gathering and an auction for a painting.
Zhao Zhen had always loved calligraphy, paintings, and treasures. Intrigued, he went to see. When the painting was unveiled, he was captivated at first glance.
After several rounds of bidding, Zhao Zhen finally called out, “Eight hundred taels!”
The hall fell utterly silent.
Zhao Zhen got the painting he wanted, but it sparked much talk. Most wondered who he was, spending so generously.
As the painting unfolded before him, Zhao Zhen stared at a streak of green amidst the mountains and water, then noticed the inscription beside it. He gasped aloud.
“‘Fearing it startled the jade palaces above, startled the jade palaces above!’ What a piece! Such a grand title, ‘Facing the River Immortal’!”
“But why no signature?”
Zhao Zhen frowned, then asked the Manager, “Do you know who painted this?”
The Manager replied, “It was painted by Young Master Wen.”
“Can you take to see him?”
At first, the Manager refused. But when Zhao Zhen produced a pouch of silver, the Manager’s expression lit up. He then led him to see this renowned Young Master Wen.
When Zhao Zhen saw the painter, he paused in surprise. “He is so young…”
Only in his thirties, yet with such skill in brushwork! Truly impressive.
Seeing a stranger, Wen Yi asked, “Manager, who is this…?”
“Young Master Wen, this gentleman purchased your painting for… eight hundred taels!”
“Eight hundred taels!?”
Wen Yi’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Zhao Zhen smiled at him. “The mountains and rivers in your painting please greatly. Eight hundred taels is rely a trifle.”
Wen Yi hesitated at this.
“So it was the landscape he bought…”
He had thought it was the touch of green that caught the eye.
Noticing Wen Yi’s slight disappointnt, Zhao Zhen asked, “Was that too little?”
Wen Yi shook his head. “Too much! Talking only about the landscape, eight hundred taels could buy a thousand paintings.”
Zhao Zhen asked, “Then why do you seem troubled?”
Wen Yi said, “The most important part of this painting isn’t the landscape. It’s the touch of green within… and the words inscribed.”
“Oh?”
Zhao Zhen smiled. “Please, Young Master Wen, explain it to .”
Wen Yi paused, hesitating.
But after consideration, he decided to speak. Few might believe this tale, but telling it probably couldn’t hurt.
“That was back during the Jing Era…”
Wen Yi recounted all he had seen and heard: the two scholars, the mountain bandits, even the matter of the Copper Coins piercing hearts.
Zhao Zhen listened. The story felt incredibly mystical. Though he didn’t quite believe it, he also couldn’t help being engrossed. The ‘scholar’ in the tale was truly unusual.
After Wen Yi finished, Zhao Zhen thought for a mont and asked, “How much of this tale can be believed?”
Wen Yi shook his head. “I lived through it myself. I saw it with my own eyes. Of course, if you don’t trust it, you can simply take it as a story.”
Zhao Zhen looked down at the painting ‘Facing the River Immortal’.
Truthfully, from the very beginning, it was the touch of green that drew him.
Certain events in recent years made Zhao Zhen think often of legends about Immortals beyond this world.
Perhaps it wasn’t just a story after all.
This man might truly have t such a being.
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