He couldn’t aim straight…

Changmei the Daoist raised a hand and wiped the egg from his face, then looked toward Gao Yuanzhang and asked: “Do you think his inability to aim straight means he’s being selective about who he hits?”

Gao Yuanzhang shook his head. “He genuinely can’t aim. If he could, he would have hit you in the mouth.”

Changmei gave Gao Yuanzhang a withering look and said: “Surely you weren’t like this when you were serving as headmaster at the Four-Page Academy?”

Gao Yuanzhang sighed. “You should be more specific about the time.”

Changmei asked: “How so?”

Gao Yuanzhang said: “You should say — before Li Chi arrived at the Four-Page Academy, I wasn’t like this.”

Changmei: “That’s your own doing.”

Gao Yuanzhang’s eyes went wide: “Who did what to whom?”

Changmei let out a smug little chuckle, looking rather pleased with himself.

Old Zhang Zhenren was already striding over, apologizing profusely to Changmei. He really had been aiming at Young Zhang Zhenren — it was just that, regrettably…

Among the Daoist lineages of Dragon Tiger Mountain, aside from a great breadth of scholarly learning, there was one particular trait passed down through the generations: every successive Zhang Zhenren had rather poor eyesight.

The three old men gathered together, and for reasons no one could quite explain, they took to each other immediately — not at all like strangers meeting for the first time, but more like old friends reuniting after years apart.

As the saying goes, birds of a feather… well, in more polite terms: kindred spirits tend to find one another.

Standing off to the side, Young Zhang Zhenren let out a quiet sigh. He thought to himself that his days of peace were probably numbered.

His senior brothers stood nearby grinning foolishly, each smile carrying the unmistakable flavor of: *you’ve been hiding for long enough, little one — now it’s your turn.*

—

Prince Ning’s residence.

Li Chi hosted a banquet for Old Zhang Zhenren and his party, and when he asked why the old Zhenren had suddenly traveled from Dragon Tiger Mountain all the way to Jizhou, Old Zhang Zhenren couldn’t help but let out a long sigh.

Before he could say anything, Young Zhang Zhenren quickly cut in: “My lord, allow me to speak on my master’s behalf. I know why my master descended the mountain to come to Jizhou.”

Li Chi said: “Please, go ahead.”

Young Zhang Zhenren spoke with solemn gravity: “Although my master has long resided on Dragon Tiger Mountain, his heart has always been with the people of the realm. He has said many times that the imperial star lies in the north, and the hope of the Central Plains lies in the north as well. So my master has come in person to see what he might do in service of my lord.”

Old Zhang Zhenren looked at his disciple and thought to himself: *Is that really what you believe? Is that really what I was thinking?*

One of the reasons I came down was simply because the disciples left on the mountain aren’t nearly as entertaining as you. That’s why I descended.

When Young Zhang Zhenren was still on the mountain, he could keep Old Zhang Zhenren company and keep him amused. The others were all a bit lacking in that regard… after all, not everyone is quite so gifted at keeping an old man entertained.

—

On the other side of the room, Gao Yuanzhang and Yan Qingzhi were speaking in lowered voices. Changmei’s earlier remark — *surely you weren’t like this when you were headmaster of the Four-Page Academy* — had struck a chord with Gao Yuanzhang. He wanted to know whether he had truly changed so much from who he used to be.

And the person who knew him best was, of course, Yan Qingzhi. So he decided to ask for his opinion.

“Do you think I’ve become different from how I used to be?”

Gao Yuanzhang asked quietly.

The question left Yan Qingzhi somewhat at a loss. He leaned back slightly and studied him with great care.

“Director Gao does seem rather different lately, that’s true.”

Hearing this, Gao Yuanzhang let out a sigh. “So I really have been influenced by Li Chi… and even you can see the change at a glance.”

Yan Qingzhi was even more confused. He asked, puzzled: “Why does my teacher say it’s Li Chi’s influence?”

Gao Yuanzhang said: “If not Li Chi, then who?”

Yan Qingzhi glanced at the red tassel ornament hanging from Gao Yuanzhang’s sash, then at the little red flower details embroidered on his robes. He thought to himself: the once-stern and proper Director Gao had undergone a dramatic shift in his manner of dress — a bit flashy, a bit flamboyant in his old age — and wasn’t that all Changmei’s influence?

But he didn’t dare say *flashy* out loud.

Gao Yuanzhang said: “You are Li Chi’s personal teacher. Tell me honestly — has Li Chi influenced us more, or have we influenced Li Chi more?”

Yan Qingzhi thought about it and let out a sigh. “For everyone seated here to have become what they are today… Li Chi bears a great deal of responsibility.”

Gao Yuanzhang couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Is that the insight you’ve gained from being Li Chi’s teacher?”

Yan Qingzhi said: “No… the greatest insight I have gained from being Li Chi’s teacher is this: once a teacher, forever… wealthy!”

Gao Yuanzhang narrowed his eyes. Yan Qingzhi quickly added: “Wealthy as in — prosperous.”

Gao Yuanzhang sighed deeply. “I truly never imagined that one day, you too would become a man driven by greed.”

Yan Qingzhi thought to himself: *Director Gao, you have the nerve to say that to me? I’ve spent time around Li Chi and all I got was a love of money. You’ve spent time around Changmei the Daoist, and you’ve become not just greedy but also a bit of a lecher — don’t think I haven’t noticed where the two of you sneak off to together.*

—

Old Zhang Zhenren chatted a while longer with Li Chi and the others, and in the course of it, took careful note of Li Chi’s features. Afterward, he felt considerably more at ease — his calculations, it seemed, had not been wrong.

After dinner, Young Zhang Zhenren wanted to arrange for his master to stay at the Daoist temple on Phoenix Cry Mountain. The old Daoist looked thoroughly displeased.

“I’m not going.”

Old Zhang Zhenren curled his lip. “I live in a Daoist temple on Dragon Tiger Mountain. Now you want me to live in another Daoist temple here. What was the point of coming down at all?”

Young Zhang Zhenren said: “Master, you are the venerable Zhang Zhenren whom all hold in awe and reverence. Even if it’s purely for appearances, you still need to *look* the part.”

Old Zhang Zhenren curled his lip again. “Nonsense. Who ever said a Zhang Zhenren has to look stiff and solemn every moment of the day?”

Young Zhang Zhenren said: “When I descended the mountain, master, you told me that yourself.”

Old Zhang Zhenren: “Yes, I said it to *you*. What does that have to do with me?”

Young Zhang Zhenren: “…”

Old Zhang Zhenren said: “I’ve already told your senior and junior brothers — from now on, you are the presiding Zhenren of Dragon Tiger Mountain. I am no longer.”

He smiled. The moment that smile appeared, Young Zhang Zhenren couldn’t help but give an involuntary shudder.

Young Zhang Zhenren asked carefully: “Then where does master wish to stay?”

He was genuinely afraid his master might say something utterly outrageous — this was the reputation of the Daoist temple at stake, after all…

“That place where you were found to begin with seemed quite nice. Those two old fellows are rather interesting.”

Old Zhang Zhenren said with a grin: “I’ll stay there.”

Young Zhang Zhenren instantly relaxed. “That’s no problem at all. I’ll make arrangements for master right away.”

Then he froze.

It suddenly dawned on him. His master. Changmei the Daoist. Gao Yuanzhang. Three old men under one roof. What exactly was life going to look like from now on?

—

The next day.

Li Chi was attending to official business inside Prince Ning’s residence when he looked up to find Young Zhang Zhenren at the door. He smiled. “Your master only arrived yesterday. Shouldn’t you be spending time with him today? Why come here?”

Young Zhang Zhenren sighed. “My lord… first thing this morning, all three of them dressed themselves up in all their colorful finery and headed off to a teahouse to listen to music.”

Li Chi asked: “Three? Which three?”

He asked, then remembered, and laughed. “Never mind.”

Young Zhang Zhenren sighed. “Yesterday when I was taking my master to the carriage yard to get him settled in, all three of them started boasting about themselves on the way.”

Li Chi smiled. “Usually when people meet for the first time they flatter each other. What did those three elders choose to boast about?”

Young Zhang Zhenren said: “My master started it. He said that even though he’s getting on in years, among the old men in the south-central and southwestern reaches of the Central Plains, he’s considered quite handsome — officially recognized as the most handsome man in the central, southern, primarily-southern, and especially-southwestern regions of the Central Plains.”

“Then Changmei the Daoist said: well, if you put it that way, I’m not far behind. When I first started out, I was only considered handsome within seven counties of Jizhou, but over time that expanded to all of Jizhou.”

Li Chi burst out laughing. “And what did Director Gao say?”

Young Zhang Zhenren said: “Director Gao said that from Daxing City all the way to Jizhou City — a span of ten thousand *li* — and across the entire upper, middle, and lower reaches of Nanping River, he has always been the most handsome.”

Li Chi shook his head. “Why does Director Gao even bother competing with those two? Neither of them has ever been married. If they were truly that handsome, would it really have come to that…”

Young Zhang Zhenren said: “That was exactly what I was thinking at the time.”

He lifted his head, and there was a trace of sorrow on his face. “I’m not sure how my master read it in my expression, but he had me thrown off the carriage and said he wasn’t going to play with me anymore.”

Yu Jiuling laughed from nearby. “That means those three elders really aren’t taking you along — probably because you’re genuinely less handsome than all three of them.”

Young Zhang Zhenren looked at Yu Jiuling. “If General Yu is going to put it that way, then I’m not playing with you either.”

Yu Jiuling: “Draw your sword then.”

A little while later, Yu Jiuling asked: “But speaking of which — your master traveled such a great distance to Jizhou. What exactly does he intend to do here?”

Young Zhang Zhenren said: “I haven’t quite worked that out yet.”

—

Meanwhile, at the teahouse.

Old Zhang Zhenren sat with his eyes half-closed, listening to the music, his fingers tapping the table in time with the rhythm.

Changmei knew that Old Zhang Zhenren possessed deep mastery of the Dao, and wanted to sound him out. He smiled and asked: “Did the Zhenren come to Jizhou simply because he missed his disciple?”

Old Zhang Zhenren opened his eyes and slowly exhaled. “I came to Jizhou because of a dream.”

“A dream?”

Changmei didn’t quite understand. For a dream to drive someone to undertake such an arduous journey all this way — just how significant a dream could it possibly be?

Old Zhang Zhenren said: “Not long ago, I dreamed that the sky held five suns, scorching the earth, and all living beings suffered beneath them. And there were three great wolves, howling endlessly at those five suns in the sky…”

He exhaled slowly. “So I came.”

“Five suns in the sky, three wolves on the earth…”

Changmei was startled. He asked: “All in the north?”

Old Zhang Zhenren shook his head. “Two suns in the north, three in the south. I can calculate why the three southern suns have risen together — but I cannot determine why the two northern suns coexist. So I thought it better to come and see with my own eyes.”

He looked at Changmei and said: “I feared my disciple would not be able to handle it.”

Changmei’s expression grew grave.

Five suns in the sky — such a dream was not difficult to interpret. It most likely meant that before long, there could be five men in the Central Plains who each declare themselves emperor. If no single one among them could shoot down the other four suns, the Central Plains might plunge into the kind of devastating warfare not seen since the chaos of a thousand years ago.

The realm would fracture into a period of warring states. And once that kind of fragmentation took hold, it could mean decades — or even centuries — of unending conflict.

Once that came to pass, how incredibly difficult would it be for the Central Plains to recover its prosperity?

Beyond the northern frontier, the Black Wu Empire watched with hungry eyes. Nothing would please them more than to see the Central Plains dissolve into fragmented warring states.

If that happened and the Black Wu swept south — who could stop them?

When it comes to the balance of power in this world, if one powerful nation cannot outright destroy another, the most likely strategy is always the same: divide the enemy, break the great into pieces, and grind the pieces to nothing.

Changmei looked at Old Zhang Zhenren and asked: “Zhenren — is there a way to break this configuration?”

Old Zhang Zhenren shook his head. “I haven’t seen clearly enough yet. How could I have a way to break it?”

Gao Yuanzhang also sighed. “Every time the Central Plains falls into chaos, foreign enemies press in from outside. And the greatest threat always comes from the north. So whoever holds the north faces the most dire circumstances.”

Old Zhang Zhenren gave a low sound of agreement, his tone heavy. “That is precisely why I had to come north and see for myself… which sun is which sun, and which wolf is which wolf.”

—