Chapter Two: The Hidden Dragon

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Chen Zhi’an had no idea what the changes in the Diagram of the Celestial Capital meant. As usual, he passed the night without incident.

To him, yesterday’s embroidered-ball episode on West Celebration Street had been nothing more than an insignificant interlude, hardly worth remembering.

Yet when he awoke that morning, his head felt strangely heavy, with a dull, lingering ache.

“Have I caught a spring chill?”

That was his guess. He left his room as he usually did, only to find that spring had grown even more beautiful. A delicate fragrance of flowers drifted upon the breeze, and with the spring equinox at hand, the pear blossoms his father had planted in the courtyard were already white as snow.

On the stone table beneath the pear tree, his father had prepared a large flatbread and a bowl of hot soup.

Chen Zhi’an turned his head and saw that his father was still dressed in the same plain white robe, seated upon a meditation cushion in the room and preparing to instruct him and answer his questions.

The food on the stone table had remained unchanged for nearly two years, ever since Chen Zhi’an had crossed into this world. It was almost the same every day.

A smile touched the corners of Chen Zhi’an’s lips. He finished the flatbread in a few bites, drank the hot soup, and waved his hand.

“Father, I’ve already sorted the medicine. Don’t forget to take it at noon… I’ll be home a little late today. The Yellow Gate has a wanted fugitive whose portrait needs to be drawn.”

Chen Shuijun turned his head and waved at him, then silently resumed his preparations for the day’s lessons.

Chen Zhi’an was accustomed to his father’s taciturn nature. After clearing away the bowls and chopsticks, he left the house and headed for the Southern Su Craftsmen’s Yellow Gate.

About fifteen minutes after Chen Zhi’an departed, a visitor arrived at the shabby little courtyard on Qihuang Street.

The man appeared to be in his early forties. His face was fair and clean-shaven, his expression solemn, his eyes exceptionally calm. An air of nobility showed between his brows.

That nobility came not only from his every gesture, but also from his clothing.

He wore a long robe that fell to the ground, its hem embroidered with several crane feathers in brocade silk thread, lending him an almost ethereal bearing.

Several martial instructors followed behind him, bowing and scraping. They did not even dare look directly at his back.

When they reached the courtyard, the martial instructors stopped and let the man enter alone.

Chen Shuijun saw the visitor arrive, but merely cast him an indifferent glance before turning away again. He did not even rise to greet him.

The visitor was not angered. He stood in the courtyard for a while, gazing at the pear blossoms, then looked at the painting hanging in the eastern hall. Regret colored his voice.

“Chen Zhi’an has a good disposition and fine understanding. If you refuse to let him cultivate, so be it—but you will not even let him study… What good will come of being a Yellow Gate painter?”

“Once you are gone, he will be left entirely alone. Without a skill to rely on or even the protection of an academic title, this world will surely strip him bare.”

Chen Shuijun did not raise his head.

“Teaching my son is my affair.”

“Teaching your son is naturally your affair.” The visitor finally stepped into the eastern hall, his voice carrying a trace of sorrow. “But now that Li Bodu has come to Southern Su Prefecture, you should avoid his锋芒. He came in pursuit of one of the martial heroes known as the Nine Steles and Thirteen Characters. Who can say that he will not recall the past and come trample you once again?”

“If you ask me, you should leave Southern Su Prefecture as soon as possible. The abbot of Great Compassion Abbey intends to pass his mantle on to you. It is a blessing that countless cultivators could not obtain even after several lifetimes. Why remain bound to Southern Su Prefecture?”

The man spoke with heartfelt earnestness, as though he and Chen Shuijun had known each other for many years.

Yet Chen Shuijun frowned at his words. Slowly, he rose and faced the visitor.

“Chu Muye, did you come here today merely to persuade me to flee Southern Su Prefecture? Has the Li family’s influence grown so vast that even after I came here, I must still be driven away by the authority of General Black-Purple of Southern Su, Li Bodu?”

“Were you merely demoted from office, or was your courage demoted along with you?”

“You ungrateful fool!” The middle-aged man called Chu Muye flew into a rage and snorted coldly. “I came to persuade you because I cannot bear to watch you court disaster!”

“We have known each other for more than twenty years. Do you think I do not know what you are thinking? Li Bodu has come to Southern Su Prefecture. Even if he does not come to see you, you will certainly go to see him.”

“With Li Bodu’s overbearing nature, even if he refrains from taking your life out of consideration for the Li family’s promise to Li Yinxi, you will probably still spend three to five years confined to your bed.”

“What could possibly be worth that?”

“If you are bedridden, what will Chen Zhi’an eat? You cannot expect the meager wages of a Yellow Gate laborer to support both father and son.”

“If you ask me, go straight to Great Compassion Abbey. Learn the Great Compassion Dongting Method. Even if you cannot reach the Profound Mechanism of Creation, you can at least attain Jade Palace cultivation and illuminate your divine aspect. Then, with someone to mediate on your behalf, the Li family of the Hanging Celestial Capital will have no choice but to acknowledge you as their son-in-law.”

Chu Muye’s words were heavy with concern.

Chen Shuijun seemed not to have heard him. Instead, he lifted his head and glanced at the sky.

“My students will be arriving soon. Your presence here will inevitably delay their lessons.”

Chu Muye clasped his hands behind his back and shook his head.

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“Be careful. Li Bodu’s fleet will arrive by the day after tomorrow at the latest.”

“Southern Su Prefecture is now beset by shifting winds and clouds, and several formidable figures have appeared. Whether it is the swordsman of old who could ‘send a single sword soaring through the sky and depart, startling the ancient dragon sleeping beneath the blue pool,’ the martial hero whose strength could ‘uproot mountains and overshadow the entire age,’ Li Bodu, commander of the ninety thousand Pine-and-Acacia Army of Su-Wu Province, or those bandits of Western Penglai who style themselves the Iron Horse and Mud Serpent—you must not provoke any of them.”

Having said this, he left the eastern hall and plucked a pear blossom from the courtyard.

The pear blossom was whiter than snow and breathtakingly beautiful. Chu Muye suddenly recalled that, back at Yankong Academy, Miss Li Yinxi of the Li family had loved pear blossoms above all else.

He sighed inwardly and was just about to leave when Chen Shuijun’s cool voice suddenly reached his ears.

“People everywhere are saying that the court intends to restore you to office. You came hurrying here today—are you about to enter government service?”

Chu Muye did not turn around. He merely waved a hand.

“I know you have lost faith in the court. But now Prime Minister Song holds power and is carrying out sweeping reforms. Things are far better than they were a few years ago. Once I reach the Hanging Celestial Capital, I will be able to realize the ambitions we once shared…”

Chen Shaojun gazed from afar at Chu Muye’s departing figure. Looking at the pear blossoms in the courtyard, he suddenly murmured,

“Yinxi, wait a little longer. Zhi’an will soon have completely absorbed the medicine’s power, allowing his roots and bones to be remade… When that time comes, I will be able to come and see you.”

—

“How can anyone be so savage?”

Chen Zhi’an stood in the Yellow Gate Portrait Hall, looking at the wanted poster spread across the central table.

Two other people stood beside him, one old and one young.

The old man was Liu Sichi, master artisan of the Yellow Gate Portrait Hall. Dressed in yellow, he held a brush in his hand and studied the portrait intently.

The other was a youth about Chen Zhi’an’s age. He explained, “I went to the government office to collect this wanted portrait and asked about him carefully. He is Swallowing-Mountain Tiger Qi Tianchong, ranked twelfth among the Twenty-Four Generals of Western Penglai!”

“He has fled into Southern Su Prefecture, though no one knows what business he intends to conduct here.”

The youth was named Wang Huan. Like Chen Zhi’an, he was a junior worker at the Yellow Gate Portrait Hall.

The Yellow Gate belonged to the Craftsmen’s Office of Southern Su Prefecture. Within it were separate guild halls for the various crafts, and that was where Chen Zhi’an worked.

“These vicious bandits from Western Penglai have committed every crime under the sun—robbery, murder, arson, you name it. Since he came to Southern Su Prefecture, all the wealthy families have been trembling in fear. But…” Wang Huan grinned broadly. “His luck is poor as well. General Black-Purple, Li Bodu, will be coming to Southern Su Prefecture in a few days. If that Swallowing-Heaven Tiger dares show his head, the general will likely chop it off, strip away his tiger hide, and turn him into a dead tiger.”

Liu Sichi, the master artisan beside him, rapped him on the head.

“Get drawing. We need a full ninety-six portraits today, one for each of Southern Su Prefecture’s ninety-six streets. If we fail to finish on time, we will be punished by the head of the Yellow Gate again.”

Rubbing his head, Wang Huan muttered, “There are only three portrait artists in all, the wages are miserably low, and we still have to draw this many wanted posters. This is no work for human beings.”

Liu Sichi sneered.

“Drawing for the government is still better than selling paintings and calligraphy on the street. When I used to sell paintings on West Celebration Street, there were times when I went seven or eight days without a single customer. I could barely keep myself fed. Now that I am in the Yellow Gate, I receive a steady salary of one and a half strings of cash every month. Isn’t that better than begging in the street?”

Wang Huan lowered his voice further.

“Only you get one and a half strings. Chen Zhi’an and I receive only one string.”

Liu Sichi flew into a rage.

“You insolent brat! If it weren’t for your aunt pleading on your behalf—”

“Just draw,” Chen Zhi’an interrupted his scolding. “If we are late, we will not finish the assignment.”

He spread out a sheet of hemp paper, took the distinctive charcoal pencil from his robes, and began to draw.

Wang Huan and Liu Sichi were Chen Zhi’an’s colleagues and had naturally seen him draw many times.

Even so, when his slender charcoal pencil touched the paper, a few simple strokes were enough to sketch the rough outline of Qi Tianchong’s face.

The pencil whispered against the hemp paper. In scarcely any time, simple lines had become a lifelike portrait.

The other two clicked their tongues in amazement, but did not dare relax. They picked up their brushes and began drawing as well.

The day passed in this manner.

A crescent moon slowly rose into the high heavens, illuminating a veil of translucent gray clouds.

The clouds obscured the moonlight, leaving the sky dim and gloomy.

“The prefecture office has ordered that Chen Zhi’an deliver the portraits.”

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After a full day of drawing, Wang Huan gazed at the stacks of portraits on the table and rubbed his aching wrist listlessly.

Liu Sichi was old. After drawing a dozen or so portraits, he had already retired to rest. As the master artisan, he naturally possessed that privilege.

But when he heard Wang Huan’s words, he frowned and glanced at Chen Zhi’an.

“Does anyone at the prefecture office know you, Chen Zhi’an?”

Chen Zhi’an was utterly bewildered and could only shake his head.

Liu Sichi lowered his head and thought for a moment before nodding.

“Since they called for you by name, then take them there. Be quick on the way and do not delay.”

Chen Zhi’an wasted no time. Carrying a thick bundle of rough-paper portraits, he hurried toward the Southern Su Prefecture government office.

The Yellow Gate, which managed the government’s craftsmen, was located on Prosperity Origin Street. Taking the main road would require a long journey and a wide detour, but a narrow alley ran between several streets. Though it had scarcely any lamplight, it saved a considerable distance.

Chen Zhi’an hurried through the quiet alley and soon arrived before the government office.

After identifying himself as a junior worker of the Yellow Gate, he was looked up and down by a middle-aged guard holding a saber at the entrance.

“The prefecture office summoned Chen Zhi’an of the Yellow Gate Portrait Hall. Are you Chen Zhi’an?”

Chen Zhi’an nodded.

The guard pointed to the gatekeeper beside him.

“Give the portraits to him, then come with me.”

Chen Zhi’an was puzzled. He forced a smile and was just about to ask a question when the middle-aged guard suddenly said,

“Are you the son of Master Chen from Qihuang Street?”

Chen Zhi’an nodded.

A smile appeared on the guard’s face.

“I live on Qihuang Street as well. My youngest boy studies at your father’s school.”

Chen Zhi’an studied him carefully before smiling in return.

“So you are Little Brick’s father.”

The middle-aged guard led Chen Zhi’an into the compound, then asked curiously, “How did you know I was Little Brick’s father?”

Chen Zhi’an’s expression remained guileless.

“Little Brick looks exactly like your child. His brows, eyes, and nose may not resemble yours in every detail, but there is at least a sixty or seventy percent likeness.”

The middle-aged guard looked immensely pleased.

“My surname is Zheng, my given name Yuan. I guard the front courtyard of this office. Just call me Old Zheng.”

Chen Zhi’an quickened his steps until he was walking behind Zheng Yuan, then asked in a low voice, “Sir, where are we going?”

Without looking back, Zheng Yuan replied, “You are a junior worker of the Yellow Gate Portrait Hall. The director of the Craftsmen’s Office ordered me to take you there. You are to draw a portrait for a young master… Are you good at portraits?”

Chen Zhi’an answered modestly, “I would not call myself exceptionally skilled. I am better at capturing a likeness.”

Zheng Yuan slowed slightly and glanced back at him.

“In that case, perhaps I might benefit from the young master’s good fortune as well. When you return to Qihuang Street, could you draw a portrait of my Little Brick?”

“What difficulty would that be?” Chen Zhi’an readily agreed, then asked, “Which young master is it?”

“Master Zhou of the Zhou family—Zhou Xiujing.”

Chen Zhi’an had naturally heard of the Zhou family of Southern Su. By then, the two had crossed the front courtyard and passed through the central hall. Zheng Yuan’s footsteps grew noticeably lighter as they went, and he reminded Chen Zhi’an in a hushed voice,

“Do not make a disturbance. The assistant prefect is meeting the leading figures of Southern Su today. The prefect himself is privately entertaining an important guest. Do not disturb them.”

Chen Zhi’an nodded and followed Zheng Yuan through the central hall into the courtyard of the Six Offices.

Not far away stood a blue-brick, green-tiled building with its doors wide open. Several people were seated inside.

Despite the distance, Chen Zhi’an immediately noticed a young master dressed in splendid brocade.

That young master also looked through the entrance toward Chen Zhi’an, his eyes carrying a hint of malice.

Chen Zhi’an raised an eyebrow. Having met countless people in his previous life, he naturally saw the contempt and loathing in the young man’s gaze.

“What the hell?”

He muttered inwardly, “How did an ordinary commoner like me offend such a noble young master?”