After traveling by boat for over a month, they finally arrived in Jiangnan. Lu Yun finished moving the last load of cargo for the boat captain, received his wages of two coins of silver, and immediately took his leave.

The boat captain, seeing that he worked efficiently, wanted to keep him, but Lu Yun detested his snobbish and harsh nature and naturally didn’t want to associate with him. Though he was unfamiliar with Jiangnan, relying on his youth and health, he could survive doing manual labor. He harbored a strange hope that if the yamen hadn’t issued a formal warrant for his arrest, after waiting another two years or so, he might be able to take the imperial examination again.

After disembarking, Lu Yun asked passersby and learned that this place was not far from Yangzhou. He thought Yangzhou was prosperous and he should be able to make a living there. After getting directions, he walked for another two days and finally reached the famous Yangzhou.

Yangzhou had been prosperous since ancient times. Lu Yun had long admired its great reputation. Du Mu’s poem “Ten years dreaming in Yangzhou, gaining only a thin reputation in pleasure quarters” spoke of this very place.

There was an ancient saying: “If you have a hundred thousand strings of cash around your waist and enter Yangzhou, then you’ll know where heaven is.” Indeed, he saw wine flags fluttering in the wind, and along both banks of the river were wine shops and brothels, with painted boats coming and going, making the water crowded too. Having failed the examination and fled here, Lu Yun was destitute and impoverished, feeling his poverty and lowliness all the more keenly. The sounds of courtesans’ delicate laughter and wine patrons’ loud drinking, though it was only afternoon, continued ceaselessly—at night it would probably be even more boisterous.

Lu Yun stood on the shore looking at the painted boats coming and going on the river. Suddenly thinking of those trackers’ hardships, he felt the world’s darkness and extreme disparity between rich and poor. He couldn’t help feeling sad and pondered: “We’re all human beings—why is the difference in status so vast? Oh Heaven, oh Heaven! Is your justice and righteousness only this cold and indifferent?” Full of melancholy, he was speechless before the vast sky.

While lost in thought, he passed by a yamen and saw various official documents posted on the bulletin board, all offering rewards for capturing escaped criminals. Lu Yun, worried the authorities might be searching for him, looked carefully. In a small corner he saw a document: “Lu Yun of Weichang County, Shandong, killed a jailer and escaped from prison in collusion with Taihu bandits and others. Twenty taels of silver reward for information leading to his capture.”

Though he had expected to be wanted, he had to see the official document with his own eyes or he wouldn’t give up hope. But to think he was only worth twenty taels of silver—that was truly cheap indeed. He smiled bitterly and thought: “This year I worked so hard to go to the provincial capital for the examination, only to fail miserably. Sigh! Though my name isn’t on the literary roll, it’s on the wanted list—that’s also a kind of success.”

He saw that the small document had no portrait. Lu Yun thought: “This county magistrate doesn’t take me seriously at all. Unless I go take an examination and walk into their trap myself, it seems no one will come arrest me.” Since he was insignificant anyway, even if he used his real name in the future, no one would pay attention.

Lu Yun valued his reputation above all else. Thinking that he didn’t need to change his name, he felt quite comforted. He then wandered around Yangzhou city, sleeping in broken temples and old houses at night, touring famous sites and historical places during the day.

But his travel money was limited. He calculated that after half a month his silver would be exhausted and he would have to beg for a living, so he constantly kept alert, looking everywhere for work.

After several days, Lu Yun passed by a large household and saw red paper posted on the door saying they were looking for servants and household workers. Lu Yun was delighted and thought: “If I could make a living in this household, that wouldn’t be bad.”

Just as he was about to knock on the door, he thought of the vicious appearance of the ruffian Niu’er and his gang. His heart filled with anger, and he knew that if he became someone’s hired hand, he would definitely have to endure countless humiliations. He thought secretly: “No good! Even if I, Lu Yun, am poor and destitute, I shouldn’t lower myself to be a servant and suffer others’ contempt.” He abandoned this idea.

But over the next several days he couldn’t find even half a job. Seeing his travel money exhausted, he had no choice but to return to that large house, but the red paper on the door had already been torn down.

Lu Yun stood outside the door and smiled bitterly: “How miserable! Now even if I want to humble myself, no one pays attention. Lu Yun, oh Lu Yun, you don’t think about what your status is—what good does this prideful backbone do? Isn’t this cutting off your own path to survival?”

He sighed and was about to turn and leave when suddenly he saw a young girl skipping toward him. This girl was dressed as a maid, with a round face and big eyes, quite adorable. Seeing Lu Yun’s shabby appearance from behind, she called out: “Hey! There’s no food today. If you want to beg for food, you might come back on the first or fifteenth. The master and mistress will give you some copper coins.” The girl’s voice was soft and sweet, but she had taken Lu Yun for a beggar.

Lu Yun turned around and smiled bitterly: “Miss, I’m here looking for work, not begging for food.”

The maid saw that though Lu Yun’s clothes were ragged, he was tall and handsome with sword-like eyebrows and bright eyes, and his bearing was dignified. Suddenly her face reddened and she felt some fondness for him.

Lu Yun coughed and said: “Miss, could you please announce me? If your household still needs workers, I’ll wait here.”

The maid heard Lu Yun’s northern accent and frowned: “You’re from out of town. Oh my! Our steward hates outsiders most, but I’ll still ask around for you.”

Lu Yun quickly said: “Thank you, miss.”

The maid’s face flushed red as she opened the door and went in like a gust of wind.

Lu Yun stood outside the door. After about half an hour, the maid still hadn’t come out. Lu Yun thought: “It seems there’s no work to be had here. I’d better seek another way to make a living.”

Just as he was about to leave, suddenly a man came out and called: “Hey! Our steward wants you to come in.” His tone was quite impatient.

Lu Yun was delighted and quickly stood up to follow the servant in. He saw that though this was the back courtyard, flowers and plants grew luxuriantly and it was quite elegant. Walking into the courtyard, he first passed through a winding corridor before reaching the steward’s quarters.

This mansion was quite vast. Besides the main residence, there were other buildings for servants to live in. He saw a thin, middle-aged man come out with a short beard under his chin, looking quite shrewd—obviously the steward.

Lu Yun cupped his hands and said: “I am Lu Yun, paying respects to Master Steward.” He smiled slightly, keeping his hands folded in his sleeves like a scholar.

The steward looked Lu Yun up and down. Seeing his uncommon appearance and bright eyes staring at him, he couldn’t help being startled. But then remembering this person had come seeking work, he immediately put on his steward’s airs, looked at him sideways, and said in a shrill voice: “So you’ve come to work?”

Lu Yun was overjoyed and nodded: “Exactly.”

The steward snorted and said coldly: “What can you do?”

Lu Yun was stumped. Having lived to twenty-seven or twenty-eight, he had rarely thought about what he could do. After pondering for a long time, he finally said: “My learning is diverse. Of the various arts of music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, except for music which I haven’t studied, I’m quite accomplished in the others. Additionally, I have some knowledge of ritual, music, archery, charioteering, writing, and mathematics. I’m especially strong in statecraft.”

Seeing the steward’s face turn iron-blue, he paused and said: “My learning is thus—might it be suitable?”

The steward was stunned and cursed: “Nonsense! Nonsense! A’Fu, take this boy to the kitchen and teach him to carry water and chop wood daily. Give him eight coins of silver per month.” Then he went into the house and didn’t come out again.

A’Fu had been laughing on the side. Seeing Lu Yun scolded by the steward, he chuckled: “Hey! Master Scholar, quickly go chop wood and carry water!” He led Lu Yun to a woodshed filled with firewood and miscellaneous items.

A’Fu said: “Clean this up yourself. Work starts soon.” He roughly explained the daily tasks—basically carrying water to fill vats and chopping wood to deliver fuel, all rough work.

Lu Yun asked: “Brother, where do I sleep at night?”

A’Fu also disliked outsiders and didn’t want to talk much with Lu Yun. He casually pointed and said: “You’ll sleep right here!”

Lu Yun was startled, but A’Fu paid no more attention and had already turned and left.

Lu Yun smiled bitterly for a while. Thinking of the bitter days in prison, he mocked himself: “Lu Yun, oh Lu Yun! Others do civil work in military posts, so you’ll do military work in a civil post—treating the woodshed as a study room isn’t bad either!”

While he was cleaning up his sleeping area, an old man came to the door and called: “A’Yun, the steward wants me to show you around so you don’t get lost.”

Lu Yun couldn’t help being startled hearing him call him “A’Yun,” but as a hired hand in someone else’s household, he couldn’t be without a nickname to be addressed by.

He sighed and followed the old man around the large mansion to familiarize himself for future work.

Scholars of that time mostly enjoyed gardening. Lu Yun saw the mansion’s garden was arranged quite exquisitely, with artificial mountains and waterfalls everywhere. He had once stayed at a temple in his hometown as a child, where the master was quite skilled in this art, and he had also picked up some knowledge. After looking at several arrangements, he nodded in praise: “Seeking the profound through simplicity—in every mountain and water there’s still dignity and character. Your master is quite learned.”

The old man turned around in surprise: “What do you mean ‘your master’? You should say ‘our master’!”

Lu Yun realized he was now someone else’s servant. His heart felt sour and he fell silent.

The old man continued: “Our master—don’t be scared when I tell you—is the current Assistant Minister of Public Works, Lord Gu Siyuan. Our Lord Gu was the top scholar, you know!”

Lu Yun calculated and said: “Hmm, Lord Gu passed the examination in the eighth year of Jingtai, right?”

The old man was surprised: “How do you know?”

Lu Yun said: “The Jiangnan region has outstanding people and beautiful landscapes. Over the past century, eight top scholars have emerged, and Lord Gu is one of them. Who in the world doesn’t know this?” As a scholar, Lu Yun was naturally very familiar with such official matters.

The old man, seeing his extensive knowledge, couldn’t help being startled: “You know quite a lot.” His manner of speaking became much more polite.

After Lu Yun toured the large mansion with the old man, lanterns were already being lit and his stomach was growling—he was extremely hungry.

The old man laughed: “Ah! You’re hungry. Let’s go eat!”

Speaking of eating, Lu Yun’s spirits immediately lifted greatly. Having food to eat every day was a big matter for him. Feeding himself wasn’t simple.

The old man led him to the servants’ dining hall. Lu Yun saw the food included fish and meat—very good eating. He ate five large bowls of rice in succession. Everyone laughed: “This boy hasn’t even started work yet but has already eaten his money’s worth!”

Someone in the dining hall asked about his name and background. Lu Yun said casually: “My surname is Lu, name Yun, from the north. I used to be an inn waiter. Thinking Yangzhou was prosperous, I came seeking a meal.”

Firstly, Lu Yun had been familiar with poetry and books since childhood and didn’t want to change his name; secondly, he thought the yamen wouldn’t take such a small person as him seriously, and others wouldn’t specially investigate his background, so he used his real name.

Everyone laughed: “So you’re from an inn background. From now on, all the work of serving food and carrying bowls in our dining hall will depend entirely on you!”

Lu Yun laughed heartily: “Naturally.” He didn’t mind their teasing.

Winter passed and spring came. Lu Yun chopped wood and carried water daily, and with excellent food, his body grew stronger day by day. His frame was naturally tall, and now he became quite robust. He saved up his wages every month, waiting until he had enough travel money to find a way back to Shandong and make new plans.

This day he was carrying water when suddenly the steward rushed over calling: “Hey! Come here!”

Lu Yun put down the water bucket, wiped his sweat, and asked: “Is there something?”

The steward beckoned: “Don’t ask so much, just come!”

Lu Yun saw his expression was quite urgent and figured there must be something important, so he followed.

The steward walked all the way toward the main residence. Lu Yun did menial work and had never entered the main house. He saw it was magnificently decorated with very refined furniture and furnishings. He didn’t know why the steward was bringing him in.

Soon they reached a study room. Inside were countless books, and calligraphy and paintings hung on the walls. At a glance, one could tell the master of this room was extremely particular. The steward said: “Good! From now on you don’t need to chop wood and carry water anymore. Come here daily to watch over and clean, understand?”

Lu Yun was both surprised and delighted. After careful inquiry, he learned that the old gentleman who had been watching over the study had resigned and returned to his hometown. The other servants hadn’t studied and didn’t know how to manage a study—they definitely needed someone who had read books to watch over it. The steward thought of Lu Yun and assigned him this easy job.

The steward said: “Boy! Your wages remain the same, and you still live in that woodshed. In a few days, if there’s an empty room, I’ll have them move you.”

Lu Yun said happily: “It doesn’t matter. As long as I can come here to read, you could make me sleep in a pigsty and I’d be fine.”

The steward spat and cursed: “Bookworm!” Then he instructed: “The master isn’t home these days. Guard this place well, and when there’s nothing to do, sweep and dust more, understand?”

After the steward left, only Lu Yun remained in the study. He saw the study was extremely large with thousands upon thousands of books inside. A large desk faced the window, outside which green plants flourished and birds sang softly. His heart was so happy it nearly burst. For a moment he flipped through the Four Books, then touched the Five Classics, as if returning to his hometown and seeing relatives.

The Gu family master was named Gu Siyuan. Originally he held the position of Assistant Minister of Public Works, but due to his mother’s death he was at home observing the mourning period of three years. This was already the second year—next spring he could return to the capital to resume his post. Lord Gu had gone to Mount Huang for sightseeing these days and wasn’t in Yangzhou. Lu Yun came to the study daily, and besides cleaning, had nothing else to do. But he loved reading tirelessly, and now having a vast collection to browse through, he was greatly delighted. For several days straight he recited Confucian classics, quite restoring his former scholarly demeanor.

One day Lu Yun walked to the bookshelf containing Daoist texts and casually picked out several books to read. In the past he had studied the principles of the I Ching with considerable insight, but these books were mostly Daoist arts of health preservation. Lu Yun adhered to Confucian heart and learning and never believed in these metaphysical studies of immortality. Just as he was about to put them back, he reconsidered: “The various schools of thought each have their strengths. Perhaps I won’t be able to seek official position in the future—why must I stubbornly limit myself to the Confucian way?” He then opened the Daoist books and studied them carefully.

After several days, Lu Yun had read more than ten books on health preservation and cultivation. Many contained medical principles and acupuncture point diagrams. Though not very clear, he gradually developed some interest.

This day Lu Yun found another book titled “Treatise on Qi Cultivation.” Reading the content, it was quite different from previous books. Looking at the preface, there were only a few short sentences: “This poor Daoist has long known that Assistant Minister Gu is quite fond of Daoist learning and extremely accomplished in various health preservation methods. This poor Daoist has comprehended from martial studies the wonderful transformation of heaven and man, and methods for nourishing longevity, which I specially present to knowledgeable persons for verification. Wudang Sect Master Yuan Qing.”

Lu Yun knew of Mount Wudang’s reputation. In former years, the real person Zhang Sanfeng had long resided on the mountain and was said to have lived over two hundred years before ascending to immortality. Lu Yun thought: “Since this book has some pedigree and can preserve health, why don’t I also practice it? In the future, if I can have fewer colds and coughs, wouldn’t that be good?”

Thinking thus, he picked up the manual and began reading. After reading for a while, he found the text quite interesting and became quite fascinated. He then began meditating according to the method.

Lu Yun breathed slowly according to the three-long-one-short breathing method described in the book, placing his tongue against his upper palate between his teeth, then following the mental techniques in the book, concentrating qi at the “Jade Pillow Point” behind his head, then progressively visualizing the “Heaven’s Prominence,” “Central Pole,” “Shoulder Well,” and other acupoints. But all this visualization only made him dizzy and nauseous with ringing ears and blurred vision, yet he saw no progress whatsoever. Lu Yun thought: “It seems my practice method is wrong. I might as well practice more these next few days to see.”

Since he had nothing else to do anyway, Lu Yun spent the next few days fixated on that “Treatise on Qi Cultivation.” But no matter how he practiced, his body showed no unusual signs. Instead, his buttocks often ached unbearably from sitting. One day when defecating, he saw sores had developed on his buttocks from sitting. Lu Yun thought: “It seems all this Daoist metaphysics is just deception. I needn’t waste my time.”

From then on he began studying history books again, throwing the manual sent by the Wudang master aside.

This day the weather was hot. After reading the Records of the Grand Historian for a while, Lu Yun felt extremely drowsy. Gradually he dozed off and closed his eyes.

In recent days he had been practicing breathing techniques, and even in daily life he often unconsciously engaged in breathing exercises. Now, half-asleep and half-awake, he began breathing exercises again.

After half an hour, Lu Yun was sleeping deeply when suddenly a warm qi stirred in his dantian. A stream of heat flowed up along his back in spirals, then slowly entered the mud pill and descended along the “Jade Pillow,” passing through “Heaven’s Prominence,” “Central Pole,” “Shoulder Well,” “Chest Center,” and other acupoints before finally returning to the dantian. Lu Yun was sound asleep at this time and only felt the heat flow continuously—wherever it passed, his whole body felt indescribably comfortable.

In his drowsy state, his body and mind felt refreshed as if floating on clouds. Suddenly someone shouted loudly: “What are you doing!”

Lu Yun was greatly startled and woke up to see A’Fu looking at him coldly: “You’re secretly sleeping during work hours—don’t let the steward see you.”

Lu Yun panicked and was about to sit up when suddenly his whole body went numb and he collapsed to the ground. A’Fu was also startled and quickly helped him up, asking: “What’s wrong? Did your legs fall asleep?”

Lu Yun wanted to respond but couldn’t even make a sound. His mouth twitched as if he were possessed.

A’Fu was both shocked and afraid. He quickly helped Lu Yun sit down and said: “Rest for a while. I’m leaving first.” Afraid of getting into trouble, he hurriedly left, leaving Lu Yun alone in the room.

For a full hour, Lu Yun couldn’t move at all, as if he had suffered a serious illness. Lu Yun had no idea that being suddenly startled like A’Fu did was the greatest taboo for practitioners. All martial artists must have quiet, undisturbed conditions when practicing. If Lu Yun’s skill hadn’t been extremely shallow, being disturbed like this would have resulted in paralysis at best, or death from bleeding from all seven orifices at worst—the outcome would have been terrible.

However, surviving this great danger taught Lu Yun a method of practice. As long as his mental intention was vague and indistinct, he could draw out a warm stream of qi. Examining various books, he learned this warm current had a name—it was called “internal breath,” and martial artists called it “internal energy.”

Receiving this unexpected joy, Lu Yun was very happy and practiced even more diligently. Each time he let the warm internal breath circulate and flow through his body for a long time before stopping. Though he didn’t know what use this internal breath had, after half a month he felt clear-headed and energetic, and his strength had increased somewhat when working. He figured this must be the effect of the internal breath.

This day he was practicing internal energy and muttering to himself: “If I want to guide true qi into the dantian, through which meridians should I do it properly? If I want to open the eight extraordinary meridians, how should I circulate internal breath?” Having practiced internal energy for several days, he began thinking about how to use it freely. Looking through various books, none recorded this, so he could only explore on his own.

While pondering, he suddenly heard someone outside cursing: “Circulate your big head ghost! Boy, the master has returned—why don’t you quickly come out to greet him!” It was the steward.

Lu Yun was startled and quickly straightened his clothing and followed him out.

He saw a man with a pale face and black beard, looking leisurely, slowly walking toward the study—this must be the master.

The steward bowed: “Greetings, master.”

Indeed, this person was Gu Siyuan. He glanced at Lu Yun and seemed slightly surprised, asking: “Who is this child?”

The steward said: “Master Qi returned to his hometown recently. This one is here to replace Master Qi’s position.”

Gu Siyuan nodded and walked straight into the study.

The steward quickly pushed Lu Yun and said urgently: “Why aren’t you going in?”

Lu Yun followed the instruction, entered, and closed the door, standing to one side.

Gu Siyuan entered the room and looked around for a while, then suddenly said: “Has someone been moving my books?” He saw several books on the desk that Lu Yun had been reading.

Lu Yun thought secretly: “Trouble! The master returned urgently and I forgot to put the books back.”

Gu Siyuan picked up the books on the desk and saw they were all Daoist classics. With an “eh” sound he said: “You study Daoist texts?”

Lu Yun said: “This humble person was just casually browsing.”

Gu Siyuan nodded and said: “Young people should read more histories and classics, not just touch on these ethereal studies.”

Lu Yun broke out in cold sweat and quickly responded: “Yes. This humble person understands.”

Gu Siyuan asked about Lu Yun’s name and background, and Lu Yun briefly explained. Gu Siyuan made no comment, sat down, and said: “Prepare ink.”

Lu Yun could write excellent calligraphy himself, so preparing ink was as easy as eating and drinking for him. He took out a stick of pine soot ink and saw dragons carved and coiled on it with extraordinary craftsmanship. After grinding a few times, he felt the ink’s aroma was like pine fragrance, with scent like orchids—truly a superior product. Lu Yun’s family had been poor before, and he mostly practiced writing in sand. Even when he had money to buy ink, it was the cheap stuff costing ten coins per stick. When had he ever seen such superior pine ink? For a moment he squinted his eyes, smelling the ink fragrance in his nose as if he were in heaven.

Gu Siyuan saw his strange expression and coughed: “What are you doing?”

Lu Yun quickly collected himself and smiled apologetically: “Nothing, nothing.”

Gu Siyuan shook his head and took a brush from the brush rack—it was a “tribute purple wolf hair brush.” Lu Yun watched with drooling mouth, extremely envious in his heart, wanting to hold the wolf hair brush in his hands and flourish it in writing.

Gu Siyuan asked: “Where’s the paper?”

Lu Yun hurriedly walked to the bookcase and took out “Xuanhe mulberry paper,” spreading it on the desk.

Gu Siyuan frowned: “I’m writing a memorial—why did you bring out mulberry paper?” He put down his brush and personally went to the bookcase, taking out a stack of paper marked “Tribute Xuan Paper.” He said: “When I write memorials, I use superior Xuan paper. Remember this.”

Lu Yun repeatedly said: “Yes, yes!”

Gu Siyuan’s brush flew across the page, writing over a hundred words in an instant. Lu Yun saw his elegant prose and graceful calligraphy—truly the bearing of an imperial-appointed top scholar and minister of two dynasties. He couldn’t help showing an expression of admiration. Gu Siyuan looked up and saw Lu Yun watching his essay, nodding repeatedly, quite beside himself. He couldn’t help wondering: “Can this book boy also understand my writing?” But he just thought this and concentrated again on writing the memorial.

When Gu Siyuan finished, it was already evening. He had written for over two hours. Gu Siyuan instructed: “Stay here and wait for the ink to dry, then carefully roll it up and store it properly.”

Lu Yun replied: “This humble person understands. Please rest assured, sir.”

More than ten days passed like this. Gu Siyuan came to the study every other day, staying for two hours each time. Lu Yun’s woodshed was quite far from the study, so sometimes he slept in the study. Gu Siyuan rarely spoke with him, treating him as an ordinary book boy. Lu Yun had been accustomed to being looked down upon since childhood and didn’t mind.

Daily, besides accompanying Gu Siyuan while he read, Lu Yun practiced internal energy when idle. He varied the number of breathing cycles, changing the duration and amount of inhalation and exhalation each time. But no matter how he practiced, he made no progress. Though the internal breath could emerge, each time it only reached the mud pill and then spiraled down—he couldn’t control it at will. But Lu Yun wasn’t anxious or discouraged. He recorded all his attempted methods on paper and continued practicing the next day, determined to figure out a method for circulating qi.

After several more days, Gu Siyuan was reading in his room for entertainment when suddenly someone came to visit—a middle-aged scholar. Lu Yun saw he had a graceful appearance and was slightly thin—at first glance, one could tell he was quite talented.

Gu Siyuan was reciting poetry when he saw the man standing at the door. Delighted, he said: “Oh my! Brother Pei, how do you have time to come? Why didn’t you have servants announce you?”

This man surnamed Pei had the given name Ya and styled himself Xiu Min Hermit. He lived in Yangzhou and had once held important court positions but was now dismissed from office, staying at home running a school and teaching students. He and Gu Siyuan had a deep friendship—one was observing mourning at home, the other dismissed from office, both waiting for the day to return north to court. Gu Siyuan, thinking of their family friendship, quite intended to betroth his beloved only daughter to Pei Ya’s son. But though both families’ elders wanted to arrange this early, the two young ones couldn’t stand each other and there had been no progress, making everyone quite anxious. Especially the Gu family’s second concubine was most urgent—she was Pei Ya’s cousin and naturally wanted to strongly support this marriage, but matters of love between men and women couldn’t be rushed. Despite her shrewdness and capability, she was helpless.

The two men, Pei and Gu, conversed very happily. After tea, Gu Siyuan asked: “How are current court affairs? I went traveling to Mount Huang recently and haven’t heard court news for a long time.”

Pei Ya said: “Still the same old situation. I hear Jiang Chong has begun purging people in the Court of Judicial Review. Several old fellows have resigned, making Xu the Iron Head so angry his seven orifices are smoking. That Jiang Chong is unforgiving when he gains advantage, naturally placing his disciples and followers in those positions.”

Gu Siyuan shook his head: “What else can they do but leave and resign? Wouldn’t it be even worse to be forcibly brought down and defeated?”

The two men looked at each other and sighed, falling silent for a moment.

Suddenly Pei Ya said: “Hey! Let’s not talk about such matters. Today I came to test you!”

Gu Siyuan wondered: “Test me? Haven’t we two been tested enough in this lifetime?”

Pei Ya laughed: “Everyone says Assistant Minister Gu has quick literary talent, unmatched in the current dynasty. I’m just testing whether this is true or false.”

Both men laughed heartily. Originally, Pei Ya and Gu Siyuan were known together as “Pei-Gu,” their poetry and prose excellent with fame spreading throughout Jiangnan. His saying this was obviously just a small joke with no ill intent.

Gu Siyuan saw some worry in his friend’s brow and asked: “What important matter is it? Might as well tell me!”

Pei Ya sighed: “Old Gu, this time I’m truly stumped. If you don’t save me, my Xiu Min Academy will have to close!”

Gu Siyuan was shocked: “What! Are those people from the East Bureau making trouble for you?”

Pei Ya laughed: “Not at all. Since going into seclusion, I never ask about court affairs. I just teach and write every day, quite contentedly. Why would the East Bureau people trouble me?”

Gu Siyuan wondered: “If not the East Bureau, then who? Who has such boldness to come provoke you?”

Pei Ya smiled: “The one troubling me isn’t some high official—just an old beggar.”

Gu Siyuan exclaimed: “A beggar?”

Pei Ya nodded: “A few days ago, an old beggar suddenly came in making a big disturbance, saying he wanted to challenge my academy. Several of my students told him we weren’t a martial arts school—how could there be challenges and sparring? But the old beggar paid no attention, insisting we accept his challenge, his manner quite arrogant.”

Gu Siyuan said: “Hmm, this old beggar must have come prepared!”

Pei Ya smiled bitterly: “Exactly. This old beggar sat in my hall and said he had a couplet he thought up while eating and defecating, wanting to see if anyone here could match the second line. If no one could match it, he would spread word about my ‘Xiu Min Academy’ deceiving the world and stealing fame. I thought then: Fine! I, Pei Xiu Min, have composed countless couplets in my lifetime, answering spontaneously in court halls—how could I fear a country old beggar?”

Gu Siyuan, knowing Pei Ya’s ability well, laughed: “Brother Pei’s literary talent is unmatched—what is there to fear? What happened next?”

Pei Ya said: “That old beggar publicly wrote out the first line for me to match. Heh heh, when I looked… when I looked…”

Gu Siyuan laughed: “When you looked, you solved it?”

Pei Ya sighed: “Aren’t you mocking me? If I had solved that couplet, why would I come find you? That first line was truly exquisite—when I saw it, I was immediately stunned. The old beggar sneered and said he knew I couldn’t answer in a moment, giving me seven days to respond lest he be accused of winning unfairly. My students and I studied carefully for two days but couldn’t figure out how to match it properly. We’re afraid if we match the tones we’ll lack meaning, and if we match the meaning the sounds won’t harmonize. So I had to come ask you.”

Gu Siyuan was shocked: “So formidable! This is outrageous!”

Pei Ya smiled bitterly: “This old beggar has already defeated dozens of schools. Even Master He’s Hanlin Academy couldn’t produce anyone to match it.”

Gu Siyuan was greatly surprised: “Even the old Hanlin couldn’t do it! Quick, write it out for me to see!” Pei Ya wrote several characters on paper. When Gu Siyuan saw them, his expression immediately changed greatly: “Good! Truly not simple!” He muttered to himself, obviously thinking hard.

Lu Yun also wanted to see the couplet but was blocked by Pei Ya’s body. Lu Yun could only imagine but couldn’t see the text.

Pei Ya and Gu Siyuan talked for over an hour but still couldn’t compose a proper second line. Gu Siyuan said: “Never mind! Even the old Hanlin with his vast learning was stumped—how can we match it in a moment? Let’s eat first and have a few drinks. We’ll talk more this evening!”

Pei Ya smiled bitterly, knowing Gu Siyuan probably couldn’t match this extremely clever first line either. He could only say: “Fine, let’s go eat!” The two men left the study, leaving only Lu Yun.

Lu Yun saw them walk away and thought: “What kind of couplet could stump two gentlemen with advanced degrees?” He walked closer to look and immediately saw the first line: “Drinking and eating lack springs; how can white water sustain life?”

Lu Yun looked carefully and suddenly nodded silently, thinking: “No wonder no one can answer—this first line is truly a marvel.”

The meaning of this first line was: “In my eating and drinking, I lack even spring water—alas! But how can plain white water sustain life?” A sense of scholarly poverty clearly emerged. Lu Yun, well-read in poetry and books, immediately saw the cleverness of this first line. The difficulty wasn’t in its impoverished meaning but in its textual craftsmanship.

This first line was divided into two parts: “Drinking and eating lack springs; how can white water sustain life?” The four characters “drinking eating lack springs” seemed meaningless, but reading carefully revealed another ingenious use. The character “drinking” (飲) split apart became “eating” (食) and “lack” (欠); reading in sequence became “drinking eating lack” (飲食欠)—three characters in succession. Additionally, the following character “springs” (泉) also had special use, splitting into “white” (白) and “water” (水), becoming “drinking eating lack springs white water” (飲食欠泉白水)—six characters in succession, continuously reading as this marvelous first line “Drinking and eating lack springs; how can white water sustain life?”

The first six characters, one after another continuously, described the protagonist’s poverty and destitution. It seemed this old beggar was desperate and resentful, thus creating this strange couplet to challenge Jiangnan talents.

Lu Yun smiled slightly and thought: “This old beggar is learned but bitter about the world—if there’s a chance, I should meet him.” He quietly read the first line several times, pondering for a while. Suddenly his mind stirred and he had an idea. He laughed heartily: “What stumps Hanlin scholars can’t stump me, Lu Yun!”

Thinking of his own examination failure and destitute wandering, constantly scorned and mocked by the world, he shared some similarity with that old beggar. Suddenly wild passion arose as he thought: “If I, Lu Yun, don’t show some skill, I’m afraid worldly people won’t know there are people beyond people, heaven beyond heaven!”

He immediately picked up his brush and wrote his second line beside the first line.

He put down the brush and looked up laughing, quite pleased with himself, when suddenly he thought: “Trouble! In my wild state I rashly wrote this—what if the master gets furious?”

Just as he was thinking of ways to cover it up, suddenly A’Fu hurried in calling: “Hey! The steward has business and wants you to come!”

Lu Yun was now sweating anxiously, only wanting to erase his writing, and said: “Wait a moment—I’ll come right away.”

A’Fu snorted: “He’s very urgent. If you don’t come now, don’t blame me for getting scolded.”

Lu Yun was anxious and panicked but couldn’t keep the steward waiting long. He sighed deeply and had to follow A’Fu out of the study.

When he met the steward, it was just for some trivial matter. Lu Yun was anxious, only wanting to return to the study to cover up his writing. The steward chattered on giving instructions, but he didn’t hear a single word. After half an hour he finally escaped and hurried back to the study.

Lu Yun worried as he lowered his head entering the study, immediately seeing Gu Siyuan and Pei Ya standing by the desk with grave expressions.

Lu Yun felt guilty and asked stiffly: “Is there something, master?”

Gu Siyuan said loudly: “Has anyone been to the study?”

Lu Yun stammered: “This humble person just went to see the steward—did someone take advantage to enter and drop something?”

He knew Gu Siyuan must be angry about his rashly written second line but didn’t dare admit it, only hemming and hawing evasively.

Gu Siyuan ignored him and said to Pei Ya: “This is strange—clearly someone wrote this second line here! Brother Pei, could your son have arrived?”

Pei Ya shook his head: “I know my son’s capabilities well. This isn’t his writing.”

Gu Siyuan frowned: “Then who could it be? Could it be my daughter? Let me go ask.”

Just as he was about to leave the room, Lu Yun saw he couldn’t hide it anymore and bowed: “Lord Gu, Lord Pei—this second line was written by me. This humble person was presumptuous and ignorant—please forgive me.”

Gu Siyuan said loudly: “You really composed it?”

Lu Yun grimaced and repeatedly bowed: “This humble person is unlearned and incompetent. In a moment of meddling, I disturbed both gentlemen’s peace—please punish me severely.”

Pei Ya looked him up and down, chuckled, shook his head: “Young friend, yes means yes, no means no—don’t claim false credit!”

Lu Yun heard his doubt and couldn’t help being startled: “This first line isn’t so difficult—why would I need to claim credit?”

Hearing him speak so boldly, Gu Siyuan and Pei Ya couldn’t help snorting together. Gu Siyuan said with a stern face: “You’re just a small book boy—how can you speak this way? Have you no discipline?”

Lu Yun heard their contempt and suddenly felt his blood surge, thinking: “Though I, Lu Yun, am just a book boy and servant, I can’t tolerate such disdain!” His face immediately reddened as he said loudly: “Honored gentlemen above—though this humble person isn’t some advanced scholar or Hanlin, this first line doesn’t seem so difficult! Isn’t it just ‘Drinking and eating lack springs; how can white water sustain life?’ My second line is ‘Grinding stones and hemp powder; dividing rice can barely satisfy hunger.’ What do you gentlemen think?”

Hearing Lu Yun speak the second line, both men no longer doubted. They immediately looked at each other and clapped in praise: “The younger generation is to be feared! The younger generation is to be feared!”

Lu Yun stood stunned, thinking: “Are they really praising me? Or mocking my overconfidence?” Seeing their expressions, Lu Yun felt afraid and stepped back, his face full of worry.

“Drinking and eating lack springs; how can white water sustain life? / Grinding stones and hemp powder; dividing rice can barely satisfy hunger.”

Gu Siyuan and Pei Ya looked at each other, quietly reciting several times, their expressions showing three parts amazement and seven parts admiration.

Originally, the first line “Drinking and eating lack springs; how can white water sustain life?” had the first six characters “drinking eating lack, springs white water” continuously linked. Lu Yun’s second line was “Grinding stones and hemp powder; dividing rice can barely satisfy hunger,” where “grinding” (磨) split into “hemp” (麻) and “stone” (石), and “powder” (粉) split into “divide” (分) and “rice” (米), becoming “grinding stones hemp, powder divide rice”—six characters continuously linked, perfectly matching the first line’s “drinking eating lack, springs white water” one by one with extremely neat parallelism.

Actually, the most ingenious aspect of this second line wasn’t just its textual interest but its clever response to the first line’s question, answering “how can white water sustain life?” with “dividing rice can barely satisfy hunger.” It was as if Lu Yun sat facing the old beggar—the old beggar sighed to heaven: “I’m poor and destitute, lacking even spring water in my eating and drinking—alas! But how can plain white water sustain life?” While Lu Yun, this talented but unrecognized scholar, replied: “Old brother, what’s there to worry about? If you can’t find food, just grind hemp powder on stones and you can find rice fragments to satisfy hunger!”

The first line proclaimed bitter poverty, while the second line showed the noble spirit of remaining unchanged by poverty, using “Yan Hui’s aspiration” to cleverly respond to “bitter resentment of the world.” The meaning matched skillfully with perfect parallelism—it could be called an absolute match.

Pei Ya examined Lu Yun and smiled: “Good! You old fellow, when did you take such a handsome good disciple yet have him disguise as a book boy hiding here to play tricks on me!”

But Gu Siyuan’s amazement was even greater than Pei Ya’s. He quickly said: “Brother Pei jests—this child is truly my book boy.”

Pei Ya spat: “Even now you still deceive me—do you still consider me an old friend?”

Gu Siyuan desperately explained, but Pei Ya wouldn’t believe it. Seeing Lu Yun was just a small book boy who prepared ink and organized books, how could he have such clever literary thought? Though Gu Siyuan talked until his mouth was dry, he still couldn’t convince anyone.

Seeing Gu Siyuan still wouldn’t admit it, Pei Ya smiled: “Fine, fine—whoever this child is, he ultimately solved this first line and helped me greatly.” He beckoned to Lu Yun: “Child, come here.”

Lu Yun approached as instructed and bowed: “What are your instructions, sir?”

Pei Ya smiled: “You’ve done me this great favor—I’m very grateful. Is there anything you want? I’ll reward you immediately.”

Lu Yun shook his head slightly: “This young one stumbled upon it by accident—how can it be called merit? Please don’t do this, sir.”

Pei Ya saw his modest courtesy and extraordinary bearing—how was this a book boy? He was more like a court scholar than his own son. He couldn’t help secretly praising and grew even more fond of him.

Seeing Lu Yun firmly refusing credit, he could only say to Gu Siyuan: “Hey! Think of some way to reward this child. I’m very grateful to him.”

Gu Siyuan nodded: “I understand.” He looked at Lu Yun with puzzled eyes, unable to guess his background.

Pei Ya laughed heartily and patted Lu Yun’s shoulder: “This time it’s all thanks to this child! Over ten academies in Jiangnan were all stumped by that old beggar, yet only my Xiu Min Academy could solve this couplet! Haha, tomorrow I’ll give that old beggar a taste of his own medicine—let him know there are mountains beyond mountains!” He stood up to take his leave.

Gu Siyuan saw his old friend’s inner joy but kept his expression composed. As he rose to see him off, passing by Lu Yun who still stood there blankly, he instructed: “Stay here first—I’ll have questions for you shortly.” His tone was quite serious, as if somewhat suspicious of his background.

Lu Yun’s face went pale as he thought: “Trouble! This time I acted presumptuously—Lord Gu will definitely be angry later. I’m afraid I can’t keep this job.”

Soon Gu Siyuan hurried back to the study and sat down directly. Lu Yun saw his unfriendly expression and became even more afraid, not daring to move.

Gu Siyuan examined Lu Yun up and down. After a long while he suddenly said: “The steward said your surname is Lu with the single name Yun—is this correct?”

Lu Yun hummed and nodded, bowing: “The steward spoke correctly—this humble person’s surname is Lu, name Yun. I’ve offended your distinguished hearing.”

Gu Siyuan made no comment and asked again: “I hear you’re from Shandong—how did you come to Yangzhou?”

Lu Yun was afraid and thought: “The yamen is still pursuing me—I mustn’t reveal my identity.” He coughed: “I… my hometown had poor harvests and lacked food, so I wandered all the way to Yangzhou.”

Lu Yun saw Gu Siyuan close his eyes in thought with an indiscernible expression, making him even more anxious.

After a long while, Gu Siyuan said: “Have you ever taken examinations in the past?”

Lu Yun’s heart jumped as he quickly said: “To be honest with you, sir—I’ve loved reading since childhood but have no official rank.”

Seeing him evasive about everything and unwilling to speak clearly about his background, Gu Siyuan knew something was amiss but didn’t press further. He thought: “This person’s background is very strange—I must investigate thoroughly. Tomorrow I’ll first test him to see if he truly has ability or just some cleverness.” With this plan in mind, he instructed: “It’s getting late—go rest first! We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

The next morning, Lu Yun came to the study again. After cleaning, he sat cross-legged to practice his self-discovered internal energy. Though he couldn’t control the internal energy freely, each practice session still felt comfortable—by now he couldn’t be happy without practicing.

After about half an hour, hearing footsteps, he knew Gu Siyuan was coming. Lu Yun quickly opened the door to greet him: “Good morning, master.”

Gu Siyuan entered the study and sat down. His expression was serious as he wrote several characters on paper. Lu Yun looked and saw: “On the Rise and Fall of the Song Dynasty.” Lu Yun wondered: “Lord Gu must be planning to write scholarly works—the causes and effects of Song Dynasty rise and decline are interconnected and can’t be explained in a few words.”

Gu Siyuan suddenly said to Lu Yun: “Come, sit down.”

Lu Yun complied and sat nearby, feeling somewhat puzzled. He heard Gu Siyuan say: “This topic is deep and broad—I want to test you.”

Lu Yun was startled: “Master… this…”

Gu Siyuan patted his shoulder: “Do your best writing—I just want to see your essay, nothing else.”

Lu Yun was stunned for a while, thinking: “Since master asks me to write, I’ll write.” He picked up his brush and pondered. After a while, he began writing rapidly. Gu Siyuan watched briefly then left the study, closing the door behind him.

After an hour, Gu Siyuan returned to the study and saw Lu Yun staring blankly out the window. He thought: “After all, he’s not formally educated—his knowledge is limited. After just one hour he’s already exhausted his thoughts.” He immediately asked: “Why did you stop writing?”

Lu Yun said: “Reporting to master—I’ve already finished.”

Gu Siyuan nodded noncommittally and took his essay to read. He saw Lu Yun’s calligraphy was vigorous and powerful, flowing freely, and couldn’t help being startled: “What robust brush intention!”

Reading the essay, he saw Lu Yun had written: “The Song Dynasty connected the chaotic Five Dynasties above and foreign prosperity below, enduring invasions from three dynasties—Liao, Jin, and Yuan. People often say Song rule was weak, but I alone disagree.”

Gu Siyuan thought: “This boy has quite an attitude,” and continued reading.

“Song’s fall—rather than saying it died from military negligence, it’s better to say it died first from Yan-Yun, second from fate—not the fault of war.

The northern tribes were strong with military power exceeding Han and Tang. Liao and Jin subject states numbered over sixty, from Goryeo in the east to Tubo in the west—why? Later Jin donated Yan-Yun, leaving the north without worries—this was one advantage. Barbarians were nomadic with military and civilian united—this was the second advantage.”

Gu Siyuan secretly approved and read on: “When barbarians used Han systems with unified military commands and single-source laws—this was the third advantage. Though Song had one or two famous generals like Yang Ye and Yue Fei, how could they resist long? If Song had copied Tang’s system with regional governors and imitated their military colonies, without natural barriers what could be accomplished? After moving south, though the ruler was timid and ministers weak, relying on the Yangtze River’s protection, they resisted the Mongols for decades. Looking at China and abroad, except Great Song resisting cavalry, other nations all surrendered after one battle—how can one argue Song rule was weak? Therefore, discussing Song’s fall, one cannot ignore Song’s loss of Yan-Yun, cannot ignore that heaven’s mandate was in the north!”

The more Gu Siyuan read, the more shocked he became. He had posed this topic only to see Lu Yun’s writing style, expecting him to write in ornate parallel prose, but unexpectedly he truly had insights. Gu Siyuan nodded secretly, looking at this young man with even more respect.

Lu Yun, seeing Gu Siyuan remain silent, feared his essay didn’t meet his approval and quickly said: “Sir, I wrote this casually without any special merit—I’ve disappointed you.” He wanted to reach out and take back the essay to avoid being ridiculed.

But Gu Siyuan was secretly thinking: “This child has such insight—he’s truly first-rate advisory talent. If I let him be buried here, wouldn’t the world laugh at me, Gu Siyuan, for lacking the ability to recognize talent?”

Lu Yun saw his distracted expression and worried, only bowing his head and not daring to move.

After long contemplation, Gu Siyuan said: “You say you’ve never taken examinations and have no official rank—is this true?”

Lu Yun replied evasively: “Reporting to master, this humble person has only read for a few days and never dared think of imperial examinations—I’ve made you laugh.”

Gu Siyuan heard his insincere words and saw deep grief and indignation in his brow, thinking: “This person’s background seems quite unusual—I’ll investigate thoroughly later.” With this thought, he stopped pressing and said lightly: “Your essay is very well written. In my many years as an official, I’ve rarely seen such excellent work.” Being naturally proud and rarely praising others, these few words were already his highest praise.

Lu Yun was overjoyed, never expecting anyone in the world to appreciate his writing. He quickly said: “Sir flatters me.” In his heart, he secretly felt a sense of finding a kindred spirit in Gu Siyuan.

Gu Siyuan looked at Lu Yun and sighed inwardly, thinking: “There’s an old saying: ‘If you have a son, let him be like Sun Zhongmou.’ Though I, Gu Siyuan, am called a Jiangnan talent, only today do I understand this meaning.” Thinking of his old age without sons stirred his emotions, and he couldn’t help sighing.

Lu Yun didn’t know why he was emotional and didn’t know what to do. After a moment of silence, Gu Siyuan suddenly said: “Tomorrow I’m going to Jiangxia—you’ll come with me. Go pack quickly.”

Lu Yun was greatly puzzled, not knowing Gu Siyuan’s purpose in this, but since the master ordered it, how could he not comply? He went to pack his luggage.

The next day, Gu Siyuan brought Lu Yun and several guards in a large carriage to leave the city. The madam and second concubine came to see them off. The young Miss Gu had gone to play at the Pei family and wasn’t at the mansion, so Lu Yun didn’t see her. The madam was kind and amiable with a round, plump face, but the second concubine looked shrewd and capable, staring at Lu Yun as if wondering why the master was taking this person to Jiangxia—making Lu Yun feel uneasy.

Lu Yun had never ridden a horse and made quite a spectacle at the Gu mansion’s gate before finally climbing onto horseback. After leaving the city, fortunately Lu Yun had practiced some internal energy and his hand strength was considerable, so before long he could manage quite well. The guards were all surprised to see him learn so quickly.

After traveling for a long time, Gu Siyuan wanted someone to talk with to relieve boredom. He lifted the carriage curtain and said to Lu Yun: “Child, how long have you been in Jiangnan?”

Lu Yun replied: “This humble person has been in Jiangnan for half a year.”

Gu Siyuan smiled: “How does Jiangnan appear in your eyes?”

Lu Yun answered: “Jiangnan has scenery like paintings, and the scholars and poets have extraordinary bearing. But the lifestyle is extravagant and quite decadent. In this humble person’s view, Jiangnan appears elegant on the surface but hides snobbery within.”

Gu Siyuan laughed: “Elegant on the surface but hiding snobbery within—wouldn’t that make it like a courtesan?” He laughed heartily, quite pleased.

The two conversed, and Gu Siyuan heard Lu Yun speak much of poor families’ hardships with considerable humanity and chivalrous spirit, which pleased him greatly. The sons of his several good friends were mostly born into wealth and never knew common people’s suffering, lacking this backbone in their conversations—making him appreciate this child’s heart and insight even more.

That night everyone stayed at an inn, and Gu Siyuan talked with Lu Yun by candlelight through the night. The guards were all quite surprised, not knowing what was special about this young man to earn such favor from Lord Gu.

After several days of travel, they reached Jiangxia. This Jiangxia had been a military stronghold since ancient times—commerce wasn’t prosperous, but there were still stationed troops. Lu Yun followed everyone to a military camp where flags flew everywhere and soldiers came and went with great authority. The large flag bore a big character “Liu,” while several smaller flags showed the character “Zuo.”

Gu Siyuan said to Lu Yun: “I came to Jiangxia this time to visit General Zuo Congyi. I hear General Zuo will soon be transferred to Liaodong—if I don’t meet him these few days, it will be difficult later.”

Originally, Gu Siyuan had received a letter from Zuo Congyi saying he had important matters to discuss. With Gu Siyuan observing mourning at home with nothing to do, he wanted to befriend this general.

“How can I deserve Lord Gu’s presence! How can I deserve it! Making you travel so far is this humble general’s fault!”

Zuo Congyi came out to greet them from afar. Everyone saw him wearing golden armor with a mighty appearance, his face full of smiles. By official rank and reputation, Gu Siyuan was a minister of the six boards, far superior to Zuo Congyi, but Zuo Congyi was a beloved general of the current Grand Commander of Northern Pacification, Liu Angtian, so Gu Siyuan naturally treated him differently. After exchanging pleasantries, they entered the tent.

Zuo Congyi set up two tables. Not being well acquainted with Gu Siyuan but seeing his kind attitude toward Lu Yun and Lu Yun’s extraordinary bearing and dignified manner, he chuckled: “Lord Gu, you’re so blessed to have such a handsome son.”

Lu Yun was about to explain when he heard Gu Siyuan shake his head: “Sigh! It’s not like that. This child is my… my subordinate.”

He originally wanted to say Lu Yun was his book boy but feared Zuo Congyi would look down on him, so he called him his subordinate instead.

Zuo Congyi, having made an awkward mistake, quickly smiled apologetically: “Yes, yes, everyone should be close.” Seeing Lu Yun wasn’t Gu Siyuan’s family member and was young, he arranged Lu Yun at a lower seat. But Gu Siyuan shook his head and said to Zuo Congyi: “This child is my advisor—General Zuo, please have him sit beside me.”

Having repeatedly misunderstood Gu Siyuan’s intentions, Zuo Congyi’s face reddened and he had to change Lu Yun’s seat again.

Gu Siyuan had other feelings—having no sons, only an only daughter, hearing Zuo Congyi speak thus immediately stirred his emotions. He looked at Lu Yun with confused feelings.

After three rounds of wine, Gu Siyuan asked: “General Zuo, what important matter did you invite me for?”

Zuo Congyi nodded: “I’ve long heard you’re familiar with military affairs—among today’s civil officials, none can match you. This humble general greatly admires this. Moreover, my superior Liu Angtian has an important matter to consult with you, which must be conveyed by me personally. But our military duties are heavy and I can’t leave Jiangxia, so I had to trouble you to come here.”

Gu Siyuan wondered: “I’ve only met General Liu a few times—what important business does he want to discuss with me?”

Zuo Congyi smiled: “After you’ve finished eating and drinking, we can talk—no hurry.”

Having served as Assistant Minister of Public Works, how could Gu Siyuan not know Zuo Congyi had something more to say? His heart became alert and he paid careful attention.

After dinner, the two went to the commander’s tent to talk. Zuo Congyi said: “To be honest, Marquis Liu greatly esteems you. He’s mentioned you to me many times, saying among current civil officials, only you understand military affairs—we military men’s fortunes rest entirely in your hands.”

Gu Siyuan coughed lightly: “General Liu flatters me. I currently hold no position and my abilities are limited—I don’t know why General Liu thinks so highly of me.” Gu Siyuan knew Zuo Congyi’s words must have some purpose, but couldn’t guess what.

He heard Zuo Congyi chuckle: “Congratulations, Lord Gu! My superior General Liu already has news that you can return north to the capital next year to assume an important position.”

Gu Siyuan had wanted to return to the capital for quite some time, but his former position as Assistant Minister of Public Works had already been filled by someone else, and he’d been worried about whether there would be a vacancy upon his return. Hearing Zuo Congyi say this, he couldn’t help being overjoyed: “This is beyond my expectations—but what position might I be transferred to? Does General Zuo know?”

Zuo Congyi laughed heartily: “Congratulations, sir. You’re about to be appointed Minister of War, replacing Minister Li’s position.”

Gu Siyuan had never heard such news and couldn’t help trembling as he stood up abruptly: “General Zuo, is this true?”

Zuo Congyi said: “Absolutely true—no mistake!”

Gu Siyuan became suspicious—he hadn’t asked anyone at court to work on his behalf, so why would such an important vacancy be waiting for him? It was truly incomprehensible.

Knowing his thoughts, Zuo Congyi said: “What’s rare about this appointment is that it’s personally decreed by His Majesty. When Minister Li retired, leaving such a big vacancy, all court officials envied it. Whether Jiang Chong or Liu Jing, everyone repeatedly submitted memorials recommending candidates. But His Majesty’s dragon heart was set on you, Assistant Minister Gu, alone—now no one can do anything about it.”

Gu Siyuan’s face streamed with tears as he immediately bowed toward the north, weeping: “Your subject Gu Siyuan thanks His Majesty for his great favor. Your subject will dedicate his heart and strength without daring to be negligent.”

Zuo Congyi watched him with a smile, saying nothing.

Now Gu Siyuan understood why Zuo Congyi had invited him here. He slowly stood up: “If this appointment comes true, please tell General Liu that though I’m not talented, I wouldn’t stoop to join court traitors—he needn’t worry.”

The current court had experienced years of struggle, leaving only three factions. Censor Jiang Chong led one faction, East Bureau’s Liu Jing led another—these two factions were powerful and used every means to win over ministers. There was a smaller third faction that had struggled for over ten years without falling—even when Jiang Chong and Liu Jing wanted to unite to bring it down, they couldn’t succeed. This faction was led entirely by military men, headed by “Grand Commander of Northern Pacification,” Marquis Shanmu Liu Angtian. Apparently Liu Angtian, learning of Gu Siyuan’s return to the capital, had sent someone ahead to befriend him, lest the Minister of War position be captured by others who might then constrain him.

Zuo Congyi laughed heartily: “You speak frankly, sir—I thank you on his behalf. Marquis Liu hopes you can visit Beijing for a meeting—what do you think?” His words clearly hoped for closer relations between Gu and Liu.

Though Gu Siyuan had favorable feelings toward Liu Angtian, firstly he disliked associating with military men, and secondly, if he joined Liu’s faction, Jiang Chong and Liu Jing might harm him. He hesitated, unable to decide.

Zuo Congyi, being an old hand, knew he needed time to consider such momentous matters: “Lord Gu, you and I both understand this great plan. General Liu welcomes your visit anytime.”

Gu Siyuan nodded lightly: “General Zuo needn’t worry. After the New Year, if I have leisure, I’ll naturally go north—we’ll discuss it then!”

Zuo Congyi smiled: “You speak frankly, sir. When the time comes, please don’t hesitate to grace our Marquis’s mansion with your presence.”

The next day, Zuo Congyi and Gu Siyuan no longer discussed confidential matters but entertained everyone touring Jiangxia.

Everyone walked several li outside when Zuo Congyi pointed to the Yangtze River: “Jiangxia has had a famous person guarding it since ancient times—one must know of him.”

Gu Siyuan nodded: “Indeed, that would be the Eastern Wu Navy Grand Admiral, the world-famous Zhou Yu.”

Everyone exclaimed in surprise, learning Zhou Yu had this connection to Jiangxia.

As the group viewed historical sites, Zuo Congyi suddenly said: “Zhou Lang’s clever plans pacified the realm, but he lost his wife and troops too. This shows he was still far inferior to Kong Ming.” Everyone agreed.

But one person laughed heartily: “These are later fabrications—how can General Zuo, holding high position, speak so carelessly?”

Zuo Congyi was annoyed and looked carefully—it was Gu Siyuan’s subordinate Lu Yun. Knowing this person wasn’t Gu Siyuan’s family member, he spoke less politely: “Zhuge the Martial Marquis was renowned for divine strategy—his Eight Trigrams Formation blocked Eastern Wu’s Lu Xun and his million troops, and he assisted his lord in restoring the Han—truly remarkable. How dare a yellow-mouthed child like you make grand pronouncements?”

Zuo Congyi’s tone was stern with a lecturing intent.

Gu Siyuan wanted to use this opportunity to test Lu Yun, so he remained silent to see how he would respond.

Lu Yun smiled: “General Zuo, Zhuge Kong Ming certainly had real talent and learning, but he and Zhou Lang never had any enmity—how can Kong Ming be said to far surpass Zhou Lang?”

Zuo Congyi sneered: “Even a three-year-old knows Kong Ming thrice angered Zhou Gongjin and borrowed the east wind at Red Cliff to defeat Cao Cao. You haven’t even heard of such things yet dare serve as someone’s advisor? Wouldn’t that make people laugh their teeth out!”

Zuo Congyi was from Sichuan and had always loved Kong Ming. Moreover, being somewhat narrow-minded, though upright in character, he loved arguing over small matters. Now he deliberately wanted to embarrass Lu Yun, speaking quite sharply.

But Lu Yun just smiled without anger: “Sir, you must have heard these things from storytellers.”

Zuo Congyi didn’t read much and now blushed, stammering: “Is there anything wrong with what storytellers say? Boy, don’t speak recklessly!”

Lu Yun smiled: “Just now the General mentioned Kong Ming’s Eight Trigrams Formation could repel Lu Xun’s million troops—did this happen?”

Zuo Congyi said loudly: “Of course it did! Otherwise how could everyone have praised it for years?”

Lu Yun smiled slightly: “If this were true, why did Shu Han fall? If Kong Ming had set up an Eight Trigrams Formation at Hanzhong, how could Zhong Hui and Deng Ai have successfully attacked Chengdu? I’d like to ask General Zuo.”

Zuo Congyi was speechless, not knowing how to answer.

Lu Yun continued: “The world says Kong Ming had great achievements at Red Cliff, even surpassing Zhou Lang. This theory is excessive—probably novelist’s fabrication, not credible. Otherwise, with Song Dynasty great writer Su Shi’s ability, how could he forget Kong Ming’s contributions in his ‘Niannujiao’ and mention only Zhou Yu’s deeds?”

He then recited a few lines from Su Dongpo’s “Niannujiao”: “Thinking of Gongjin in those days… heroic bearing with feather fan and silk cap, laughing and talking as strong enemies turned to ash and smoke.” Hearing this, everyone nodded, and Gu Siyuan smiled approvingly.

Lu Yun added: “Kong Ming and Zhou Lang each had their abilities—neither could surpass the other. General Zuo’s love for Kong Ming is fine, but the General holds high position and your words are closely watched—how can you rely on hearsay? If interested parties heard this, they might mock you behind your back!”

Seeing his profound insight, Zuo Congyi thought: “Damn, even a small boy has such ability—Lord Gu truly knows how to use people. No wonder His Majesty decreed him Minister of War.” But this couldn’t be said openly, so he only said: “Young brother, your knowledge is extensive—I’ve benefited greatly.”

Gu Siyuan, seeing Lu Yun bring him great honor, was quite pleased. The accompanying guards, seeing Lu Yun actually convince the dignified General, were also amazed.

Everyone stayed one night in Jiangxia before starting the journey back to Yangzhou. With leisure time, they chose the water route home.

Boat travel reduced much hardship. One night with bright moon and clear wind, Lu Yun missed his hometown and couldn’t sleep, so he went outside. It was deep autumn with cool night breezes. Lu Yun looked up at the sky—a bright moon hung high with distant stars twinkling, making his heart expansive. Just as he was about to sit on deck to enjoy the scenery, he saw Gu Siyuan sitting alone at the bow. Lu Yun, afraid of disturbing him, quickly returned to the cabin.

But he heard Gu Siyuan call: “The bow scenery is excellent—come keep me company.”

Lu Yun thought: “Uncle Gu still saw me.” He had to go over and stand behind Gu Siyuan with lowered hands.

All around was peaceful with only gentle splashing as river water lapped the boat. For a long time Gu Siyuan didn’t move. Lu Yun was about to speak when he heard Gu Siyuan sigh and look up reciting: “Drinking wine and singing—how short is life! Like morning dew, days of suffering are many!”

Lu Yun, being well-read, knew Gu Siyuan was reciting Cao Cao’s “Short Song” but didn’t know why he sighed bitterly, so he paid attention.

Gu Siyuan slowly turned to look at Lu Yun: “Though you’re young, your learning is quite profound—do you know Cao Cao’s mood when he wrote this poem?”

Lu Yun said: “I’ve heard Mengde used this ‘Short Song’ to express to the world’s worthy men that he only had Duke of Zhou’s heart without usurping intent.”

Gu Siyuan nodded: “Yes! How many ministers at court today want to emulate Duke of Zhou? Everyone considers themselves virtuous, but who knows their loyalty or treachery!”

Lu Yun heard deep meaning in his words and could only nod repeatedly, not daring to ask more.

Gu Siyuan looked at the moon’s reflection in the river: “I, Gu Siyuan, have had a successful life—topped the imperial examination in youth, reached Assistant Minister rank. I’ve had wealth and honor without regret, but thinking alone at night, I always feel one wish unfulfilled… sigh…”

Lu Yun heard much melancholy in his words and asked: “What wish does the Lord have?”

Gu Siyuan stared at the river water and sighed: “I’ve had no sons in life to continue the family line—only one beloved daughter. I thought by old age my heart would be calm, but these past months I… I often think how wonderful it would be to have a son.” He turned to look at Lu Yun, his eyes actually moist.

Lu Yun’s heart jumped as he said tremblingly: “Sir… what do you mean…”

Gu Siyuan gently stroked Lu Yun’s head and sighed: “Yun’er, if I… if I had a son with talent like yours, I could die without regret…”

Lu Yun cried “Ah!” and finally understood Gu Siyuan wanted to adopt him as his son. If he changed clans and surnames, future fame and imperial success would be within reach. Lu Yun was immensely grateful and said loudly: “Lu Yun comes from poverty and has wandered everywhere. Meeting such a kind elder as you is truly this humble person’s lifelong fortune.” He immediately knelt and bowed to Gu Siyuan.

Gu Siyuan was overjoyed: “Child, you… you… are willing to acknowledge me as father?” Thinking of having such a clever son to accompany him in the future, his heart filled with joy and his eyes couldn’t help reddening.

Lu Yun knelt on the ground and said quietly: “Lu Yun is orphaned and helpless, wandering in Jiangnan. Though I possess nothing, remembering my parents’ nurturing grace, Lu Yun dares not forget my ancestors’ name even for a day.”

Gu Siyuan thought he was about to acknowledge him as father, but hearing these words, he was startled: “You… what do you mean by this…”

Just as Gu Siyuan was puzzled, he saw Lu Yun bow to him: “Though you honor me with your favor, Lu Yun dares not change surnames until death. Please forgive me.” Though his tone was soft and manner respectful, his words were decisive—he was rejecting Gu Siyuan’s kind intention.

Upon hearing this, Gu Siyuan’s whole body went cold. Never expecting Lu Yun would refuse his heartfelt offer, he felt both hurt and disappointed, couldn’t help sighing softly, and turned to stare at the great river in long silence.

Lu Yun knelt on the ground, seeing his grave expression, quickly said: “This humble person spoke improperly and deserves death—please punish me severely!”

Gu Siyuan sighed slightly, shook his head, and helped Lu Yun up: “Good child, don’t say that—get up and talk.” Looking at Lu Yun’s handsome face, he straightened his clothes with infinite affection, saying softly: “Good child, seeing your backbone makes Uncle Gu very happy too.” But thinking of being destined to remain sonless, he couldn’t help shedding tears.

Lu Yun had thought Gu Siyuan was just temporarily moved to adopt him as son, but seeing tears streaming down his face, his heart shook greatly: “He… he truly cares for me!”

Though Lu Yun was young, he’d suffered many hardships—the world’s coldness and contempt he’d endured too much. Whether studying hard in the temple as a youth or becoming an inn waiter after failing the provincial examination, he’d never seen anyone shed a tear for him. Seeing Gu Siyuan treat him thus, Lu Yun was deeply moved and said tremblingly: “Master, I… I…” He couldn’t help tears flowing as he bowed again.

Seeing his genuine emotion, Gu Siyuan was also pleased and quickly helped Lu Yun up: “Child, don’t do this—we’re fated to meet, so why care about a surname? Uncle Gu likes your talent. When Uncle Gu assumes the Ministry of War position, come be my advisor!”

Lu Yun’s tears fell as he choked: “Sir, I… how can I, Lu Yun, repay such regard?”

Gu Siyuan stroked Lu Yun’s head and said softly: “Silly child, as long as you can display your talents, that’s the greatest repayment.” His words were full of genuine care and love. Lu Yun fell to the ground crying loudly.

In the deep, quiet night with gently rolling river water, both having painful experiences, after this late-night heart-to-heart talk, the old man and young man each found a kindred spirit and had no more barriers between them.