With the groundwork laid, it was the perfect time to strike while the iron was hot. The next day, Xu Fengnian joined the main group and traveled together toward the city of Ju Zizhou. He drew close to rough men like Feng Shanling, boasting and chatting with them. This was a completely different experience from discussing morality and literature with old scholars like Master Luo. It was like the difference between gulping wine and sipping tea slowly. Along the way, Xu borrowed Feng’s excellent bow. With his strength, drawing it fully was no problem at all. He tried shooting arrows several times, exuding great momentum. Fortunately, since he had previously driven off horse bandits, the escorts weren’t particularly surprised. Moreover, Xu Fengnian wasn’t the kind of person who would compete with them for livelihood, so they were happy to flatter him a bit to warm their relationship. Human relations, after all, are just about mutual praise—lifting each other up, and everyone benefits.
Feng Shanling was somewhat more sincere. Middle-aged, perhaps because he had too many pent-up frustrations in his heart that couldn’t be washed away even by alcohol, he wanted to chat with someone. Taking the opportunity when they were alone picking up arrows, Feng shared many old stories of Beiliang with Xu Fengnian. Seeing that Xu showed not the slightest impatience, the older man’s tongue loosened completely.
“When I first enlisted, I actually had two choices. One was to join General Gu Jiantang’s former troops where there were fewer battles and more peaceful days. But I knew I’d never be able to compete for military merits with the sons of wealthy families. As a barefoot nobody who had nothing to lose, I decided to join the Beiliang army. I had my own little calculations too. Although the northern border of Beiliang was unstable, during the decades of war among the Nine Spring States, the Grand General personally crushed six of them. So I figured that even if I went to the border, as long as I wasn’t a scout or a vanguard cavalryman, it wouldn’t be too easy to die. I really hit the jackpot—I became a Crossbowman (crossbowman). Except for once when I accidentally broke the Crossbow Stand (crossbow frame), I never had to fight the barbarians up close. At first, after each battle, seeing the cavalry and infantrymen with broken limbs or their entire backs slashed open, I would feel my scalp tingling. But after fighting for a long time, getting scolded by squad leaders and captains, hearing the old soldiers talk about their feats in the great Spring Wars, and hearing my comrades shouting that they wouldn’t be satisfied unless they killed someone, I still feared death—what common soldier doesn’t fear death? But I thought that if the day ever came when I had to charge forward and fight, I wouldn’t really be afraid to die on the battlefield. After all, there would be brothers to bury me, and besides, back then there wasn’t even a warm bedmate to miss.
“I remember clearly—I stayed in the Beiliang army for three years and nine months. I didn’t see any big names, the highest official I met was only sixth rank, a young cavalry general. That officer’s steed was truly tall and majestic. At the time, I envied it, but then I thought that all of us used the same Beiliang sabers, even the Grand General had no exception, so there was no need to be envious.”
“Master Xu, it’s not that Old Feng is smart, but I’m sincerely advising you to learn some Beiliang dialect. If one day in the future, the Beiliang iron cavalry rides north and crushes the southern court of Beiman, knowing some Beiliang language will never be a bad thing.”
As Feng Shanling rambled on, they gradually approached the border town. Xu Fengnian fell behind the group with Luo Changhe and others, squatting beside a dry ravine, lost in thought. The third war between the two dynasties was the last time the Liyang Empire had the upper hand at the beginning. Unfortunately, it was here near Zidiao Terrace that everything fell apart. At that time, under the careful planning of the old chief minister and other senior officials well-versed in border defense, including Gu Jiantang, the elite troops of the Nine Border Garrisons marched out in full force. They advanced a hundred miles a day, moving north from Zhen Prefecture on the ninth day of the third month of the Honghan era, arriving at Tunjintai on the sixteenth, and reaching Yibing Town in present-day Ju Zizhou on the seventeenth. Over six thousand defenders surrendered without resistance. On the nineteenth, they surrounded Zhuzhou and then moved toward key strongholds like Yehu Pass, aiming to block the northern enemy’s southern and western reinforcements. However, at the wide-open Zidiao Terrace, they tried to besiege the enemy and ambush reinforcements, a strategy later mocked by military scholars as conventional and unimaginative. The young emperor Zhao, on his first personal campaign, even made the ridiculous mistake of issuing battle formations to generals. If not for Gu Jiantang, who was stationed in Jinliao, defying previous orders to lead eight thousand elite troops to relieve the siege, and General Chen Zhibao of Beiliang leading ninety thousand cavalry to break northward almost simultaneously with Gu’s forces, piercing like a cone toward Nanjing Prefecture, the empire would not have become what it is today.
Snapping out of his wandering thoughts, Xu Fengnian stood up and jogged to catch up with the main group. The Chunlei sword was wrapped in cloth and placed in his backpack. This town was a mix of military and civilians, and the city gate inspection was extremely strict. In the sparse flow of people, a woman with her head bowed handed her travel permit to a spear-carrying city guard. After confirming it was genuine, the young, muscular soldier in armor glanced at her, frowned slightly, and then tapped the large cloth sack she was struggling to carry with the tip of his spear. The woman slowly unfastened the strap across her chest and opened the sack, revealing a guqin. It was three feet, six inches and five tenths long, with seven strings and a banana-leaf pattern, showing snake-belly cracks and a Scorched Tail (burnt end).
The city guard, of course, knew nothing about such refined objects and couldn’t tell if it was valuable. Noticing that she seemed blind, he didn’t make things difficult for her. There were over ten thousand Kongshe troops stationed outside the town, and the administration was strict. He had already made a few hundred coins today and didn’t dare to do anything too excessive, so he let her pass.
The woman wore southern court attire—narrow sleeves and a small skirt. She didn’t wear the veil hat typical of noblewomen. Perhaps due to years of playing the guqin, she had developed a gentle and calm demeanor, walking slowly. Once inside the city, the streets became lively. Many children ran about playing, while several local bullies who preyed on the weak were sunbathing near a well on the side of the road. Seeing such a lonely and delicate woman entering the city alone, they exchanged knowing smiles. Taking advantage of the city guard’s inattention, one ruffian pretended to be drunk, staggering over and deliberately bumping into her shoulder. The woman, carrying her guqin, swayed as expected, nearly falling. Still keeping her head down and showing no expression, the man, who could only survive by stealing women’s undergarments from the neighborhood, smiled even more. After brushing past her, he spun around and reached out to grope her bottom, then sniffed his fingers, causing his friends on the street to burst into laughter. The woman quickened her pace, not daring to scold him out loud, which only emboldened the Rogue (ruffian) further. He quickened his stride, intending to pull her, shouting nonsense: “Woman, go home with your man and have babies. What are you wandering around for?”
The woman, whose delicate arm was grabbed, said nothing. The Rogue was just thinking about pulling her into his arms for some affection when a young man standing on the other side of the street, dressed neatly but with a roguish air, saw what was happening. He didn’t have the sense to rush forward and play the hero, but instead picked his nose and sneered: “Liu Bazzi, you can afford a wife? You’d better go sleep with your mother instead. After all, your old mother’s been ridden by thousands anyway, so one more won’t make a difference.”
The man called Liu Bazzi immediately turned red with anger. He didn’t loosen his grip on the woman’s smooth arm but turned his head and shouted back: “Su Su, even if my cock is idle, I’m still a hundred times better than you. You’ve been living with two old bachelors for over twenty years—has your ass ever bloomed?”
The young man, after picking his nose, started digging his earwax, looking completely unperturbed: “An hour ago, I climbed over your wall and had a little chat with your mother. Do you know what ‘six short and three long’ means? You’re just a rookie—you wouldn’t understand. Anyway, your mother was really enjoying herself in bed. Maybe tomorrow I’ll become your new father. Come on, call me ‘Dad’ first.”
The young man made a thrusting motion with his hips. Liu Bazzi, humiliated in public, no longer cared about the woman. He looked around for something to hit with but didn’t see anything handy. He charged forward to teach this little bastard, who he had beaten countless times without any improvement. The young man was actually quite handsome, but his roguish appearance overshadowed it. Realizing the danger, he tried to run, but unfortunately, Liu Bazzi’s five or six buddies blocked both ends. Cursing in his heart, he skillfully covered his face and head with his arms as he was beaten thoroughly. Liu Bazzi himself rolled up his sleeves and poured all his strength into a kick aimed at Su’s ass. A loud cry was heard as Su covered his butt and fled. Liu Bazzi and his gang chased after him, grabbing stools from nearby tea houses and taverns to smash at him. The merchants and vendors on the street, who were trying to make an honest living, cursed loudly. The town wasn’t big, and after twenty years of living together, everyone knew these loafers inside out—knowing which ones to scold and which ones to fight back. When Liu Bazzi and his group finally felt satisfied, they casually threw the stools back and found that the woman with the sack had already disappeared. This made Liu Bazzi so angry that he wanted to tear Su’s house apart, but thinking about the old bachelor’s powerful grip, he shivered and could only mutter curses, hoping that Su would be beaten so badly that he would never be able to shit for the rest of his life.
The young Su, who had suffered an unexpected disaster, turned corners and wandered through several alleys. Squatting at the foot of a wall, he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb. His face was already swollen and bruised, and his whole body ached. He opened his collar and saw a purple-black bruise on his shoulder, letting out a sharp breath. Standing up, he tiptoed and leaned over the yellow mud wall, calling out a few times but finally failing to see the girl who sold scallion pancakes or any of the women’s undergarments hanging on the bamboo poles to dry. Feeling bored, he endured the pain and whistled nonchalantly as he walked. Along the way, he stole a piece of pickled meat, threw it into his mouth, and wandered aimlessly around the city.
Xu Fengnian stayed at a high-class inn with the scholars and gentlemen. Master Luo had already paid the bill, and Xu didn’t fuss over such minor details. He had made plans with Feng Shanling to go to an old famous restaurant for dinner, but since it wasn’t mealtime yet, he went out for a walk. After walking a few streets, he saw a simple fortune-telling stall under an old willow tree with a hollow trunk. The fortune teller wore a wrinkled and tattered Taoist robe, with two wisps of goatee beard. Business was slow, and he was dozing on a borrowed bench, nodding off now and then, his chin occasionally bumping against the cloth-covered table.
Xu Fengnian hesitated for a moment, then looked up at the limp banner hanging motionless in the windless air. The banner probably read something like “Calculating the Past and Future Five Hundred Years.” For a fortune teller, the biggest fear was underestimating the scope of their predictions.
Xu walked over and tapped the table with his finger. The fortune teller woke up in a start, quickly wiping the drool from his mouth with his sleeve, sat up straight, and tried his best to appear like a high-level immortal, saying in a continuous stream: “This immortal understands yin and yang, the five elements, Ziwei Doushu (Purple Star Astrology), face reading, palm reading, Qi Men Dun Jia (a form of Chinese metaphysics), geography and feng shui, whether it’s yin or yang houses, all are incredibly accurate. May I ask, young sir, what would you like this immortal to calculate for you?”
Xu Fengnian, who had once teamed up with Lao Huang and Wen Hua to work in this line of business—basically a career of swindling people—smiled and said, “Why don’t you first calculate what I want to know?”
The old Taoist priest hesitated for a moment, not daring to make things up. He stood up and gestured for the bench to this With great difficulty (hard-earned) customer, sitting down himself on the ground next to the old willow tree to get a better look at the young man’s appearance. After settling down, he pinched one of his goatee wisps with two fingers and fell into thought.
Xu Fengnian suppressed a smile and didn’t rush to speak. In fact, this profession that emphasized acting skills was nothing more than a four-step process: bluffing, extracting information, solving problems, and charging money. If done correctly, one could earn some copper coins. Back then, when he worked as a fortune teller, it was quite difficult because of his youth and lack of facial hair, making it hard to fool people even with borrowed Taoist robes.
The old Taoist priest’s eyes darted around, and he softly said, “Young sir, you’ve come to calculate your official fortune.”
Xu Fengnian shook his head.
The old man said, “Then it’s about your financial fortune.”
Xu Fengnian shook his head again.
The old man finally became a bit anxious. If he couldn’t guess correctly this time, the meal in his mouth would fly out of the bowl. Xu Fengnian didn’t continue to tease the clearly struggling fortune teller. He smiled and said, “Actually, old immortal, you guessed both. I want to know if my official fortune will be smooth and whether my financial fortune will be prosperous.”
The old man was relieved and nodded slightly, saying, “This immortal’s calculations are always precise.”
With a not-too-awkward beginning, the following conversation was a torrent of nonsense. Xu Fengnian didn’t expose him, occasionally nodding and agreeing. The old Taoist priest, spitting saliva and full of vigor, continued his chatter. Xu Fengnian had exchanged some silver coins at the inn earlier. After hearing some promising predictions about his future, he took out a small silver coin and prepared to leave. The old Taoist priest, who hadn’t touched silver for over half a year, immediately brightened. As soon as the silver coin was placed on the table, he grabbed it at lightning speed and stuffed it into his sleeve. Then, stroking his beard with a smile, he said, “Young sir, what time were you born? This immortal can calculate that for you, and it won’t cost you anything.”
Xu Fengnian had already stood up from the chair but sat back down with a light smile and said, “Don’t talk about me first. Calculate for me my father’s. He was born at the Shen hour.”
The old Taoist priest pretended to ponder deeply, then asked for the exact time within the hundred ke (a traditional Chinese time unit) of the day. After a while, he slowly said, “This is not a very good time. It means he had to leave his hometown early in life, and his brothers and sisters died young. If his blessings were even thinner, he might not have lived to see old age with his wife. However, after his wife’s death, the man’s later years gradually improved.”
Seeing the young nobleman’s expression turn blank, the old Taoist priest thought he had said something wrong and was about to change his words, fearing that the silver in his sleeve would be taken back. But to his surprise, the young man asked about the fortunes of his eldest and second sisters. After getting the exact times, the old Taoist priest, pretending to be mysterious, calculated with his fingers again and again, then reluctantly spoke a few words, not daring to say too much, believing in the principle of “say less, make fewer mistakes.” He cautiously glanced at the young nobleman, who was now trembling at the lips and forcing a smile as he revealed his own birth time. The old Taoist priest secretly wiped the sweat from his brow, feigned calmness, and said, “Good, good. Young sir has a refined and handsome appearance, is intelligent and quick-witted, and will have a life full of blessings. His parents’ blessings have all been passed on to him. His early years will have some hardships, his middle years will be busy, but his later years will be excellent, so young sir need not worry too much.”
The old fortune teller hesitated for a moment and added, “Young sir, this immortal would like to say one more thing. Your family members have somewhat lost their blessings because of you.”
He quickly added, “But your family members already have good fortune, so they won’t mind a little bit of it.”
Under the old willow tree, the young nobleman and the old fortune teller looked at each other in silence.
At that moment, Su Su, who had been idly wandering by, was thinking how foolish it was for someone to actually go to this old fraud for a fortune reading. Then he saw that guy who looked like he had been kicked in the head by a donkey scattering a handful of silver coins. What happened next was even more unbelievable to him.
Su Su turned around, planning to go back to his own shop to face scolding, rolling his eyes and muttering, “This guy must be sick!”
An outsider, a young man, sat under a withered old tree, not crying out loud, just sitting there, tears streaming down his face.
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