Li Chi walked forward a stretch and suddenly noticed something remarkable.

Remarkable enough that he felt only a place like this, fit for immortals, could suit Master Li — to have cultivated such a remarkable herd of immortal pigs.

The wild boars here appeared to roam freely, without restraint, yet all of them were perfectly well-behaved: they did not nibble at the medicinal herbs, and they kept to a fixed range of movement.

Most remarkable of all — along the edge of the herb garden, a line had been marked out, apparently with lime. That line was as though a boundary line not to be crossed, and however scattered the boars roamed, not one dared go beyond it.

If not an immortal, how could anyone raise pigs this disciplined — and wild boars at that?

And there were so many of them: large and small, by now numbering several hundred.

Then he looked at himself and Gao Xining — the two of them keeping one pig together, and the thing had grown into that odiously smug creature it was.

Li Chi felt a pang of shame. Both were human beings. Master Li’s pigs, raised in the wild, were still better than his own, which he’d tended with care.

Perhaps it was that Li Chi had called out — Master Li came walking slowly out, wearing a wide white robe of great length, with a bearing that truly carried a hint of immortal grace.

He squinted, and upon recognizing Li Chi, frowned with some puzzlement.

“How did you come to be here?”

Master Li asked.

Li Chi bowed at once: “Your student pays his respects, Master.”

Then answered: “My adoptive mother was once a disciple of Yun-yin Mountain. This time I accompanied her to pay a visit, and had no idea my master was also here.”

Master Li sighed. “Instead of properly tending to your own future, you’ve come to me… Didn’t you know I was avoiding you?”

Li Chi was taken aback. “Why is Master avoiding me?”

Master Li said: “Because your fate is unyielding.”

Li Chi said: “And because my fate is unyielding, Master must avoid me?”

Master Li glared at him: “It’s not that I avoid you specifically because your fate is unyielding — it’s that I avoid anyone with an unyielding fate. Who’s to say which one might cut my life short?”

Li Chi was dumbfounded.

What manner of theory was this?

Master Li pointed toward a spot not far off, where a flowering tree stood — its variety unknown, one great mass of blooms, flowering so lushly it looked like a giant embroidered ball, as though a human hand had sewn it.

He walked to the tree, where a rattan chair had been placed. Master Li reclined in it; Li Chi stood to one side.

“Do you want to know why?”

Master Li asked, then did not wait for an answer.

He let out a long breath and continued: “I am a man without great ambitions. My only ambition is to go on living well — so I have spent my life avoiding things.”

“I avoid men like you, whose fates are unyielding, because with such people, heaven knows what great deeds they might accomplish.”

Li Chi did not understand. He asked: “Why must a person with an unyielding fate necessarily be incompatible with my master?”

Master Li said: “It isn’t that a person with an unyielding fate is necessarily incompatible with me — but as long as there is even the slightest possibility, I will safely and properly get out of the way.”

He asked Li Chi: “Why are you standing?”

Li Chi said: “There’s only one chair.”

Master Li sighed. He pointed at the great embroidered-ball-like flowering tree. Li Chi quickly looked more carefully.

Only now did he notice that the tree was hollow at its center, the branches and vines woven into the shape of a seat.

They had approached from the other side of the tree, so had not seen it before; and arriving on this side, Li Chi had simply not looked.

How deeply idle would a person have to be, to sit and weave the vines of a flowering tree into the shape of a chair?

Li Chi shook his head: “Your student will remain standing.”

Master Li asked: “Why?”

Li Chi looked at the flower-tree seat, and smiled. “Not being a young princess, I truly wouldn’t feel right sitting in it.”

Master Li let out a burst of laughter. He nodded. “That’s a great weapon, that seat. If you brought a young woman here, covered her eyes, led her up, then told her to open them — *My princess, your throne awaits you* —”

Li Chi considered it. Somewhat childish.

Master Li had already become thoroughly absorbed in his own vision. “Ten times out of ten,” he laughed.

He glanced at Li Chi and thought to himself: this blockhead — speaking to him about such things is like playing music for an ox.

Li Chi asked: “Master has still not said — why must one always avoid people with unyielding fates? Is it simply the fear of mortal danger?”

Master Li’s eyes went wide; he stared at Li Chi as one might stare at an idiot. “And that isn’t enough? Other than life and death, what can count as a serious matter?”

Li Chi was genuinely at a loss. He truly could not understand how a person could be so afraid of death that they would flee from anyone they perceived as fate-hardened.

Master Li said: “Go accompany your adoptive mother to the Immortal Crane Divine Palace. Don’t disturb me here — I’ve only just gotten used to this place, and I don’t want to have to move again so soon.”

This was as clear a dismissal as it could be. Li Chi saw no reason to impose further, and so bowed. “Then your student takes his leave.”

He was just about to go when Master Li suddenly called after him: “What level have you reached now?”

Li Chi felt that Master Li’s questions always had a peculiar quality. *What level?* What level of what?

Master Li appeared to have noticed his confusion, and so sighed and explained carefully: “I mean — how high an office have you risen to? Or how many men do you command?”

Li Chi answered promptly: “Your student is currently the Third Leader of the Yanshan Camp. However, your student has not yet gone up the mountain and remains in Jizhou, with several hundred men under my command.”

Master Li thought about it. The young man before him was likely a genuinely dangerous individual. How long had it been since they had parted ways in Jizhou?

A boy of some fifteen or sixteen years, already Third Leader of the Yanshan Camp, with several hundred men under his command in Jizhou.

*Keep away. Definitely keep away.*

Master Li said: “Then from now on, don’t come looking for me. What does an unyielding fate ultimately contend against? Not the clash of men, but the judgment of heaven. When that time comes — when heaven makes its move — it would be best if I were ten thousand li away. I’m afraid I might get struck by lightning…”

This was no offhand remark. Truly, the sort of person born for some great achievement carries heaven’s blessing with them.

What he called *heaven’s judgment* was not heaven judging Li Chi, but heaven judging himself.

What he called an *unyielding fate* — he was not speaking of Li Chi’s fate, but of his own.

Under heaven, was there anyone whose fate was harder than his?

Then, in a sudden turn, Master Li thought: as long as he took care never to stand in opposition to someone like Li Chi, the lightning probably wouldn’t come crashing down without cause.

And so he smiled his crafty smile and rearranged his expression into something far more amiable.

“Is there anything you need?”

He asked Li Chi: “Those books I left you last time — have you read them through? If they weren’t enough, I can give you more.”

At these words, Li Chi’s eyes lit up — truly bright. The books Master Li had left him had been of immense benefit.

Whatever sense of right and wrong Li Chi possessed now, more than half of it he owed to his master, the Daoist Changmei. Whatever breadth of view he now held, more than half of it he owed to Master Li.

More than that — what made the books so valuable was that they approached things from different angles entirely, showing how different people looking at the same problem arrived at very different conclusions.

It was precisely those books that had taught Li Chi to look at problems from multiple angles when facing an enemy — even from the enemy’s own perspective.

So Li Chi bowed at once. “If Master is willing to grant more books, your student would be endlessly grateful.”

Master Li said: “Wait here. I’ll go write them for you. Come back in two days.”

Li Chi: “…”

*Like this? He’s writing them now?*

Li Chi suddenly thought of a question that had been forming, and found it difficult to contain. When he let it hover on his lips without speaking, Master Li glanced at him.

“What do you want to ask?”

Li Chi asked: “How does Master know whose fate is unyielding?”

Master Li opened his mouth — a reply seemed ready to burst out — but he swallowed it back.

“You don’t need to know.”

Master Li said: “Think carefully about what it is you need — tell me all at once, I’ll prepare it in one go, and after that you should stop coming to see me. Let us not meet again in this lifetime.”

Li Chi felt a sudden tightness in his chest. He instinctively asked: “Has your student… displeased Master?”

Master Li said: “I don’t find you tiresome. I simply don’t wish to see you.”

Li Chi sighed, bowed, and said: “Then your student takes his leave.”

Master Li said: “Remember to come for the books in three days. Oh, and I’ll also include some maps — things I drew here to pass the time.”

Li Chi had just been feeling a little deflated. Hearing those words, his eyes lit up again — brilliantly bright.

Master Li looked at him like that and could not help but sigh inwardly. *This kind of person is simply born to be the protagonist of the story… get away, definitely get away.*

Li Chi left. Tang Pidi came.

When Master Li saw Tang Pidi, he had to cast his memory back a moment before placing him — another person he wanted to stay away from.

Master Li asked: “And what do you need?”

He was simply thinking: whoever he could send away, he’d send away quickly. He didn’t want them pestering him. He knew that the Dao of Heaven moved in its constant patterns.

And he, having lived this long, was a figure outside those patterns — heaven’s reckoning might well have been searching for him all along.

“Your student wishes to request a book on military strategy from Master.”

“Military strategy…”

Master Li considered for a moment, then said: “I’ve told Li Chi to come back in three days. You come back in five — I’ll think about what I can put down.”

Tang Pidi thought to himself: *Master Li is truly a divine figure!* A man who could produce a book on military strategy within two days — if not an immortal, what else?

And so Tang Pidi bowed deeply. “Your student gives many thanks to Master.”

Master Li made a sound of acknowledgment, then looked Tang Pidi over carefully.

Because he had come to know Tang Pidi before Li Chi, he had initially assessed Tang Pidi as someone bearing the markings of a heaven-chosen destiny.

But seeing that Tang Pidi had now attached himself to Li Chi, he figured the threat such a person posed was probably somewhat diminished.

“I’ve already written something on unconventional combat methods. It’s on the writing table in that pavilion over there. Go and take it yourself.”

Master Li said, then waved a hand: “As I told Li Chi — don’t come to see me again.”

Tang Pidi was startled, but though he did not understand, he bowed. “Your student follows Master’s instructions. Your student gives many thanks.”

Master Li said: “Go, go.”

Tang Pidi accordingly withdrew.

Master Li had barely lain back when another person appeared, slinking about furtively.

Master Li asked: “And who are you?”

Yu Jiuling answered with careful reverence: “If it please Master, I am Yu Jiuling — a friend of Li Chi and Tang Pidi.”

Master Li asked: “They both came to me with requests. You’ve also come with a request?”

Yu Jiuling said: “I… was only curious. When the two of them came out, both had deeply satisfied expressions — clearly they had sought something and received it. Master truly is an immortal. So I couldn’t help wanting to come in and have a look.”

Master Li said: “Then you may as well ask for something, and then quickly go.”

Yu Jiuling thought about it. What exactly to ask for — that was genuinely a difficult question. But if he thought too long, would that not make him seem greedy?

So he instinctively decided to make small talk first, buying himself time to think.

Yu Jiuling said: “Those wild boars outside are all raised by Master — they’re remarkably well kept.”

Master Li’s eyes suddenly lit up — brilliantly bright. He snapped upright in his seat, looking at Yu Jiuling with great excitement.

“You want to learn this?”

Yu Jiuling: “Ah?”

Master Li said: “This — I can teach you. Stay here three days.”

Yu Jiuling: “I…”

He smiled sheepishly. “Three days… that’s a bit long. There are quite a few pretty young immortal sisters outside…”

Master Li said: “What’s that got to do with you? You’re far too ugly.”

Yu Jiuling: “…”

—