In the carriage, Xiahou Zuo looked at Li Diudiu, then at the young falcon, and said with a smile: “Give your new luxury item a name.”
Li Diudiu hadn’t actually thought about naming the thing. He was so careful with money yet had paid handsomely to buy the young falcon—truly because he felt there was something in those eyes: a look of contemptuous arrogance over all things.
Something like that shouldn’t be allowed to die of starvation.
“What to call it?”
Li Diudiu thought for a moment, looked at Changmei, and said: “According to this old man’s way of thinking, giving something a humble name makes it easier to raise. So let’s pick a humble one—at the very least, nothing grander than a ‘little toss.'”
Xiahou Zuo said, “Call it One-Coin?”
Li Diudiu: “That’s vulgar! You’re such a vulgar person—so obsessed with money that even when naming something you have to connect it to silver.”
Xiahou Zuo looked genuinely incredulous. “You have the nerve to call me obsessed with money?”
Li Diudiu said, “That’s a minor point—don’t worry about it. Let’s focus on the name.”
Xiahou Zuo gave a huff. “Then you come up with one. I want to see how un-vulgar it’ll be.”
Li Diudiu said, “Taking into account its build, its abilities, its ferocity, its habits, its origins, what role it might play in the future—weighing all of this together, I think the most fitting name for it is: Doggy.”
Xiahou Zuo: “What does any of that have to do with Doggy?”
Li Diudiu said, “Never mind—Doggy it is.”
The young falcon let out two perfectly-timed little cries—probably hungry, its voice still carrying a faint milky quality—but Li Diudiu insisted this was the falcon’s enthusiastic and joyful acceptance of the name.
And so the creature known as the undisputed tyrant of birds, the gyrfalcon, acquired its official name: Doggy.
Xiahou Zuo couldn’t be bothered. He had originally thought of Li Diudiu as half prodigy, half fool—but now he realized he had been wrong, and had severely underestimated the foolish half’s potential. The way he saw it now, the prodigy portion was maybe thirty percent—thirty-one percent at most. So he muttered to himself: “Thirty-one percent prodigy, sixty-nine percent fool—you are a foolish prodigy…”
Li Diudiu said, “Setting aside you insulting me—I want to know how you arrived at dividing me into eleven parts.”
Xiahou Zuo thought about it… *Had he?*
Just then the carriage came to a sudden stop, and from the convoy outside rose a burst of startled cries—as though everyone had been badly frightened, or profoundly astonished.
When it comes to nosiness, Xiahou Zuo ranks first. Li Diudiu ranks tied first with Xiahou Zuo. The two of them simultaneously went to climb out of the carriage, and since their movements were nearly identical, they both stood up and wedged themselves in the carriage doorway at the same time.
Li Diudiu stepped back; Xiahou Zuo squeezed out first. He had barely gotten outside and was just about to ask what was happening when he saw what was happening—and his jaw dropped open involuntarily.
A massive herd of wild boars was running across the road in a sweeping surge, a considerable number of them—at least a hundred heads, maybe more. Even deep in the mountains, a wild boar herd this size was a rare sight.
What made it truly astonishing was that the leader wasn’t a wild boar at all—it was a person.
“Woo-haw~!”
The figure riding the boar king had one hand clutching the reins and the other raised high, holding a flag. There appeared to be characters written on the flag. Xiahou Zuo squinted at it for a good while before he made it out: it seemed to read *Dachu Animal Husbandry Cooperative, Yanshan Branch.*
What in the blazing hell was this?
The moment Li Diudiu climbed out, he saw the stampeding boar herd thundering across the road like some kind of formation—just as he had on the mountain before. He first raised a hand to rub his eyes, then asked with genuine uncertainty:
“Is that… Teacher Li from Shulin Tower?”
Xiahou Zuo had actually gotten a clear look, but now found himself equally uncertain—because what was Teacher Li from Shulin Tower like? Cold, solitary, unwilling to engage with people, radiating an air of aloof, untouchable composure from head to toe.
And this boar-riding buffoon?
Right at that moment Teacher Li apparently spotted Li Diudiu and Xiahou Zuo. He let out a holler and hauled back on the reins; the boar king seemed to have resigned itself to its fate and came to a docile stop.
Teacher Li urged his mount over. It had to be said—that wild boar king, weighing well over a thousand jin, was genuinely terrifying. The moment it came close, every warhorse in the convoy was spooked and scrambling backward.
Teacher Li looked at Li Diudiu with a smile. “What a coincidence—to run into you here of all places. Are you here on an outing?”
Li Diudiu hastily bowed. “Good day, Teacher. We did come to Qianlie County for a trip. What brings you here, Teacher?”
Teacher Li said, “I never would have come here if I hadn’t happened to hear there was a county called Qianlie County. I just wanted to see what a Qianlie County looked like… Actually, I need to get back on the road—no time to chat. Running into you again means we really do have a connection—treasure this connection. Wild boar as a thread of fate: let me give you a meeting gift.”
He jumped down from the boar king. The boar king, apparently fully resigned, didn’t even take the opportunity to bolt.
Teacher Li picked up a small piglet and held it out to Li Diudiu. “A gift for you. Think of it as a raising game—grow it up, and if it turns out to be no fun, eat it.”
Li Diudiu: “…”
He reflexively took the small piglet, looked at it, then looked at Teacher Li. Teacher Li had already swung himself back up onto his mount, pulled the reins, and said: “We part here—I have important business to attend to. Safe travels home.”
With that, a shake of the reins, a sharp snap—and the boar king immediately lurched forward and accelerated into a charge. It had to be acknowledged: the wild boar’s starting speed seemed considerably faster than a horse’s.
Teacher Li was like a gust of wind with a pig attached, roaring in and roaring out, his retreating figure disappearing swiftly into the open wilderness.
Xiahou Zuo still couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. He rubbed his eyes again, then looked at Li Diudiu and asked: “Is Teacher Li ill?”
Li Diudiu said, “You might want to… drop the ‘is’ from that question.”
Xiahou Zuo said, “So he’s ill then. Just fine not long ago, and now—suddenly—riding a pig.”
Li Diudiu looked at the small piglet in his arms and thought: *this creature is truly one of creation’s failed experiments—most animals are at least somewhat cute when they’re young, even the ugly ones. This thing is just as hideous at this age.*
Genuinely hideous.
Xiahou Zuo said, “Shall we have roast suckling pig tonight?”
Li Diudiu said, “I’d rather not. If Teacher Li happens to come back one day and asks where the pig is, and I have to go look for you—that’s too much trouble.”
Xiahou Zuo acknowledged this—then a moment later realized Li Diudiu had just called him a pig, and raised his hand to knock Li Diudiu on the head.
Li Diudiu climbed back into the carriage clutching the small piglet. The piglet was apparently terrified, squealing and squirming. The young falcon in the cage, seemingly fed up with the noise, let out a single cry.
At that one cry, the small piglet immediately froze in fright, stopped squealing entirely, and though it had been straining to break free from Li Diudiu’s arms, it now curled into a tight ball and trembled without a sound.
Li Diudiu said, “You’re both practically newborns—why are you scared of it?”
Xiahou Zuo corrected him, “Doggy isn’t a milk-drinker. Doggy eats meat. In Doggy’s eyes, what you’re holding in your arms is a pantry.”
Li Diudiu considered this. It did seem to check out.
Xiahou Zuo sighed. “I’m suddenly realizing—this trip to Qianlie County has been quite productive for you. A bird and a pig. Not bad. The bird already has a name. What about a name for the pig?”
*Your pig*—those four words were deployed with excellent precision.
Li Diudiu thought a moment. “Well, by rights I shouldn’t give it another humble name—it’s already a fairly humble creature to begin with… Alright, let’s go the other direction and give it a grand, distinguished name.”
Xiahou Zuo said, “Call it Golden Ingot.”
Li Diudiu spat in disgust. “There you go—I knew you were a vulgar man. Three sentences and you’re always back to gold and silver and treasure… It—though it is this ugly and earthy, with that coat of coarse black bristles that practically draws blood, and though its pig life is already hard enough—if it doesn’t even have a decent name, that really is rather pitiful. So then… pig, from this day forward, your name is Divine Eagle.”
Xiahou Zuo looked at Changmei. “Am I allowed to hit your disciple?”
Changmei raised his hand and knocked Li Diudiu on the head. “I go first.”
Li Diudiu genuinely didn’t see anything wrong with those two names—in fact, he felt they suited the two little creatures perfectly.
He looked at the gyrfalcon, grinning: “Doggy.”
Then he looked at the pig, smiling vacantly: “Divine Eagle.”
Xiahou Zuo sighed. “Daoist—do you feel even the slightest bit of regret, now, for sending Li Chi to the academy? He couldn’t have been like this when he was with you.”
Changmei quickly said, “Absolutely not—he was perfectly normal when he was with me.”
Xiahou Zuo said, “I find myself not entirely believing that.”
The convoy set off again, following the main road back toward the Chu army’s main camp in Yanshan Pass—only about twenty li away; even traveling leisurely, they arrived after half a day.
Returning to the camp, they learned that Prince Yu had beaten them back by a full two hours. Prince Yu had ridden on horseback with cavalry, which naturally left Li Diudiu’s carriage and mounted escort far behind—especially since they had spent half the day wandering around Qianlie County’s streets. They had set off at midday, but Prince Yu had already been back at camp by noon. He wasn’t here now; when Xiahou Zuo asked around, someone told him the Prince had gone to Prince Wu’s camp.
After hearing this, Xiahou Zuo washed up and changed his clothes, then headed outside to check on things. He found Li Diudiu already out there, having scavenged some wood to fashion a little pen—Divine Eagle the piglet was installed inside it, and Li Diudiu was soaking a steamed bun in water to feed it.
Xiahou Zuo had nothing better to do, so he took the meat he’d brought back and fed it to Doggy. The two of them sat there, one feeding the pig, one feeding the bird.
After watching for a while, Xiahou Zuo asked Li Diudiu: “Have you noticed? That little thing keeps stealing glances at the pig.”
Li Diudiu said, “I noticed. It’s been doing that the whole way here.”
Xiahou Zuo asked, “What do you think it’s thinking?”
Li Diudiu said, “Probably thinking it wants something fresh.”
Xiahou Zuo suddenly imagined the scenario: one day while Li Diudiu was away from home, the gyrfalcon grabs the small piglet and flies off, going heaven knows where for a good meal…
Li Diudiu seemed to read Xiahou Zuo’s thoughts. He crouched by the pig pen and spoke to it with great seriousness: “Divine Eagle, Divine Eagle—your only hope for survival is to grow faster than Doggy. Get as big as your father, a thousand-jin divine eagle of a body—then even Doggy won’t be able to carry you off.”
Xiahou Zuo asked, “Can it understand you?”
Li Diudiu said, “Even *you* understood me!”
Xiahou Zuo: “Fine… Draw your sword.”
Li Diudiu called into the tent: “Master, Xiahou wants you.”
Xiahou Zuo’s eyes went wide as he stared at Li Diudiu. “Are you really that disrespectful?”
Li Diudiu said, “What did I say? You said *draw your sword*, so I called my master—how is that disrespectful? This is clearly a compliment—praising my master for being upright and forthright, sharp-edged like a great treasure sword.”
Changmei came out from inside just in time to hear this last part, his eyes lighting up. “What great treasure sword? Where? Are we going somewhere?”
—