When he was young, Zhang Xiaoqi once thought becoming like Mr. Chen shouldnât be too difficult a thing. But much later, he finally understood the meaning behind the name âMr. Chen.â
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, âZhang Xiaoqi thanks Mr. Chen.â
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 craneâs 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, âHe saw that letter. This way, perhaps it will truly be unforgettable.â
Zhang Xiaoliu breathed a sigh. âI understand. But Teacher, people are selfish after all. Iâm no saint. I didnât want Xiaoqi to forget his dad and mum completely one day.â
Chen Changsheng nodded slightly.
That was what made a living, breathing person.
Zhang Xiaoliu breathed out, closed his eyes, and said, âMay his journey be smooth sailing, just as you said, Teacher. May he rise straight to great heights.â
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 come 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 time and again life proves unpredictable, and each personâs path winds differently through the Mortal World.
âŠ
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 some 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 emerged before him.
âGreetings, Lord!â
Dozens of Shadow Guards bowed low.
Zhao Zhen swept his eyes over them and frowned. âDid the old man teach you to hide this poorly? Either follow me properly hidden, or donât follow at all!â
The Shadow Guards exchanged embarrassed glances.
âAll of you, stay far away! And these uniforms? Are you afraid people wonât recognize you as Shadow Guards? Change them!â
Zhao Zhen glared angrily. âWorthless fools! Useless, the lot of you!â
He snorted coldly, then turned back to the Tea Stall for his tea.
After drinking the tea, Zhao Zhen entered the nearby settlement.
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 wasnât 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 peopleâs lives and found the reality vastly different from what heâd imagined. Officials judged cases unfairly, bribes were common. Just walking around, he learned much.
But he wasnât surprised. Heading south, heâd seen much of this.
At the local level, things differed greatly from Shangjing.
Hypocrites filled every office.
Yet now wasnât the time 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, âEight hundred taels!â
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.
ââFearing it startled the jade palaces above, startled the jade palaces above!â What a piece! Such a grand title, âFacing the River Immortalâ!â
âBut why no signature?â
Zhao Zhen frowned, then asked the Manager, âDo you know who painted this?â
The Manager replied, âIt was painted by Young Master Wen.â
âCan you take me to see him?â
At first, the Manager refused. But when Zhao Zhen produced a pouch of silver, the Managerâs expression lit up. He then led him to see this renowned Young Master Wen.
When Zhao Zhen saw the painter, he paused in surprise. âHe is so youngâŠâ
Only in his thirties, yet with such skill in brushwork! Truly impressive.
Seeing a stranger, Wen Yi asked, âManager, who is thisâŠ?â
âYoung Master Wen, this gentleman purchased your painting for⊠eight hundred taels!â
âEight hundred taels!?â
Wen Yiâs eyes widened in disbelief.
Zhao Zhen smiled at him. âThe mountains and rivers in your painting please me greatly. Eight hundred taels is merely a trifle.â
Wen Yi hesitated at this.
âSo it was the landscape he boughtâŠâ
He had thought it was the touch of green that caught the eye.
Noticing Wen Yiâs slight disappointment, Zhao Zhen asked, âWas that too little?â
Wen Yi shook his head. âToo much! Talking only about the landscape, eight hundred taels could buy a thousand paintings.â
Zhao Zhen asked, âThen why do you seem troubled?â
Wen Yi said, âThe most important part of this painting isnât the landscape. Itâs the touch of green within⊠and the words inscribed.â
âOh?â
Zhao Zhen smiled. âPlease, Young Master Wen, explain it to me.â
Wen Yi paused, hesitating.
But after consideration, he decided to speak. Few might believe this tale, but telling it probably couldnât hurt.
âThat was back during the Jing EraâŠâ
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 didnât quite believe it, he also couldnât help being engrossed. The âscholarâ in the tale was truly unusual.
After Wen Yi finished, Zhao Zhen thought for a moment and asked, âHow much of this tale can be believed?â
Wen Yi shook his head. âI lived through it myself. I saw it with my own eyes. Of course, if you donât trust it, you can simply take it as a story.â
Zhao Zhen looked down at the painting âFacing the River Immortalâ.
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 wasnât just a story after all.
This man might truly have met such a being.