Chapter 57: Chen Zhi'an Observes the River

The head of the Zhou family stood atop the Water-Gazing Tower by the Qingshui River in Sunan Prefecture, gazing from afar at a youth fishing by the riverbank.

The youth wore a clean blue robe, possessed fair skin and a tall figure, truly making for a fine young man.

Yet, as the head of the Zhou family looked upon the fishing youth, his brow knitted tightly together. Though he tried his best to conceal his expression, he could not mask the bone-chilling coldness within it.

"Look at that, he is actually wearing the Profound Gate treasure robe I gave to Xiujing."

The Zhou family patriarch slowly spoke.

The few men in black behind him did not dare to raise their heads, fearing that their master's wrath might sweep over them.

"That Chu Muye has gone to the Suspension Capital, yet this Chen Zhi'an still dares to be so leisurely, fishing by the river." The Zhou family patriarch grinned, his gaze growing increasingly gloomy, though it was unclear what plans he was hatching.

Until, following a burst of footsteps, a familiar voice suddenly reached the patriarch's ears.

"Master Zhou, I advise you not to harbor any plots against this young man."

The Zhou family patriarch turned his head to see Zhao Chuanji, the Vice Prefect of Sunan Prefecture, standing with his hands tucked into his sleeves. Behind him followed senior clerks from the prefecture's various departments, along with several veteran merchants of generational standing, likely having just finished a meal together.

Faced with this second-highest-ranking official in Suwuzhou, the Zhou family patriarch did not dare to be remiss. He simply masked the hatred in his eyes and bowed to Zhao Chuanji.

"My lord, my child died on the Storm Platform during a life-and-death duel. Naturally, he can blame no one else," the patriarch said, keeping his head lowered.

Zhao Chuanji took a few paces forward, arriving at the railing of the Water-Gazing Tower, and gazed into the distance at the self-contented youth fishing by the Qingshui River.

"I know you harbor hatred in your heart. Losing your own flesh and blood inevitably breeds deep resentment, but... such are the ways of the world. Once you reach out to harm others, you must inevitably prepare yourself to bleed.

Had it been anyone else, I would have nothing to say about your Zhou family. As long as you do not violate the laws and decrees beneath the very eyes of the prefecture government, no one would come to question you, Master Zhou.

Yet this Chen Zhi'an is different."

Zhao Chuanji spoke slowly, his tone calm.

However, having long held high office—and serving as a real-power bureaucrat like the Vice Prefect of a prefecture—he naturally exuded an air of majesty.

Beneath his calm tone seemed to lie an astonishing authority.

The Zhou family patriarch had been listening with his head bowed, but upon hearing these words from Zhao Chuanji, he actually raised his head once more.

He looked at Zhao Chuanji and said, "Vice Prefect... I am aware that for some reason, Chen Zhi'an obtained an eighth-rank honorary title and became an honorary official... How could a merchant dare to kill an official?"

Zhao Chuanji chuckled. "The Zhou family is no ordinary merchant clan. Your medicinal herb trade spans across multiple prefectures, and who knows how many high-ranking officials and nobles take a cut of the profits, with connections that are simply staggering.

Furthermore, the deceased's maternal uncle is a Surveillance Historian in the Censorate—a genuine, substantive fourth-rank official of real power, serving in such a terrifying institution as the Censorate."

"An eighth-rank honorary title with neither office, power, nor salary now amounts to nothing in the eyes of you, Master Zhou."

At this point, Zhao Chuanji suddenly shifted his tone: "However, I must remind you that the memorial and the merit jade tablet promoting Chen Zhi'an to a Pure-Robe Gentleman were delivered by a Earth-tier Xiezhi Envoy of the Censorate. Do you know which personage signed that memorial?"

The patriarch listened intently.

Zhao Chuanji narrowed his eyes: "You are a wealthy merchant of Suwuzhou with flourishing industries. Countless commoners in Suwuzhou rely on the Zhou family to make a living, and much commercial tax revenue originates from you. I do not wish to see you lead yourself to ruin.

"Master Zhou, the person who signed that memorial is none other than Prime Minister Song of the current dynasty!"

The pupils of the Zhou family patriarch constricted.

Why would an eighth-rank Pure-Robe Gentleman warrant the personal intervention of Prime Minister Song to sign his memorial and merit jade tablet?

"I know not why Prime Minister Song personally signed Chen Zhi'an's honorary title memorial, but as the Vice Prefect of Suwuzhou, encountering such strange matters naturally forces me to think more deeply.

When faced with such an unusual youth, even for the sake of Prime Minister Song's name alone, I must offer him extra protection. I cannot let him simply die, lest troubles arise later. If this official were to stumble over this affair, it would hardly be worth it, and it would be a great pity indeed if the Zhou family's generations of enterprise were to decline because of it."

To the ears of the Zhou family patriarch, Zhao Chuanji's words sounded like thunderclaps.

His Zhou family might be a wealthy gentry clan of Suwuzhou with astonishing connections, but if figures like Prime Minister Song lowered their gaze toward them, the Zhou family would be nothing more than a slightly larger ant colony.

"That memorial... was it truly signed by Prime Minister Song?"

After a long silence, the Zhou family patriarch took a deep breath and asked, still somewhat unwilling to give up.

It was precisely at this moment that an old man walked up to the Qingshui Riverbank, sat down beside Chen Zhi'an, and the two began fishing together amidst laughter and chatter.

"The Iron-Armed General..."

Zhao Chuanji cast a sidelong glance at the patriarch.

The Zhou family patriarch naturally recognized the old man sitting with Chen Zhi'an. His breathing involuntarily grew much heavier, accompanied by a profound sense of powerlessness.

The things that could make him feel powerless were actually few, yet an abundance of them had arisen purely because of this mundane city youth, Chen Zhi'an.

"That letter..."

The patriarch suddenly recalled the letter written to his child by Li Shushu, the son of General Xuanzi.

The contents of that letter had long been recounted to him by Zhou Xiujing's personal attendant.

The Li family of the Suspension Capital was yet another colossal entity, akin to Tiger Hill beyond Sunan Prefecture; when its mountain-like pressure pressed down, presumably the entire Sunan Prefecture would be reduced to dust.

In an instant, the breathing of the Zhou family patriarch suddenly grew steady again.

"Regarding this matter, my wife has already written to inform my brother-in-law. He has always cherished my child deeply. Since my Zhou family will no longer—and cannot—interfere in this matter, let us simply wait and see whether this Chen Zhi'an can truly remain so carefree forever."

He seemed somewhat resigned.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed once more from the stairs of the Water-Gazing Tower.

A prefecture document clerk, accompanied by two guards in iron armor, rushed over and respectfully bowed to Vice Prefect Zhao Chuanji, appearing to have a report to make.

"Is it a confidential matter?" Zhao Chuanji inquired.

The clerk shook his head. "Not confidential, but extremely urgent. It is an order issued directly by the Imperial Household Department."

"The Imperial Household Department?" Zhao Chuanji raised an eyebrow. "Since it is not confidential, speak of it here."

"The Imperial Household Department has issued an official dispatch ordering Chen Zhi'an of Sunan Prefecture to immediately set out and enter the Suspension Capital. Many noble personages within the palace are awaiting Chen Zhi'an, and we are strictly forbidden from showing any negligence."

"Was no reason given?"

"Reporting to the Vice Prefect, none."

"..."

"Understood."

Zhao Chuanji turned his head, ceasing to look at the patriarch's fluctuating complexion, and instead gazed fixedly at Chen Zhi'an by the Qingshui Riverbank, deep in thought.

The Iron-Armed General had reeled in a Qingshui fish.

The Qingshui fish was a specialty of the Qingshui River in Sunan Prefecture, existing in great abundance with exceptionally tender meat.

Sunan Prefecture was renowned as a land of fish and rice, and the "fish" in that moniker owed its existence precisely to these Qingshui fish.

"I spent the entire afternoon fishing yesterday without catching a single one, yet how is it that the moment the General arrives, he catches one?"

Chen Zhi'an was utterly perplexed.

The Iron-Armed General glanced at him and said, "Your heart is not sincere. While fishing, you were still running your cultivation technique and guiding true essence. Naturally, you couldn't catch any fish."

"What does that have to do with it?" Chen Zhi'an grew even more puzzled. He had already mastered the second tier of the White Jade Cicada Shedding Scripture. Although guiding true essence was not as effortless as breathing, it shouldn't hinder an activity like fishing by even a fraction. Why couldn't he catch a fish?

The Iron-Armed General, however, had no intention of imparting his unique fishing techniques. Instead, he looked him up and down and sighed.

An aging man, upon seeing a youth of such extraordinary talent as Chen Zhi'an, would inevitably recall the days of his own vanished youth.

He had hailed from a borderland military clan. By his generation, many of his kin had died in battle, leaving the family in decline and bestowing upon him merely a first-grade profound technique and a first-grade marvelous art.

General Shen had sold off the family estate, traveled north to the Heavenly Gate to enlist in the army, and relied sheerly upon that first-grade profound technique and first-grade marvelous art to carve out the position of a fourth-grade general.

Even though his foundation was now damaged, his cultivation had stagnated, and his true essence was continuously withering away, he remained a meritorious subject of the Great Yu, having beheld magnificent rivers and mountains, countless beauties, and breathtaking vistas. He considered his life complete.

Yet over these past few months, seeing Chen Zhi'an, whose innate talent was so extraordinary, he suddenly found himself envious of his youth.

"Chen Zhi'an is destined to achieve fame at a young age... Compared to that Li Shushu, he seems hardly inferior. Perhaps one day, the Suspension Capital's Li family will acknowledge such a maternal grandson."

"Given the temperament of the Minister of War, he might even have this Chen Zhi'an change his surname to Li."

"Lacking cultivation resources and without anyone to guide him, he is already this extraordinary. If he were given the resources of the Li family, this Chen Zhi'an would surely soar straight into the skies."

As Old General Shen pondered thusly, Chen Zhi'an beside him was still fishing.

Immediately afterward, however, Old General Shen noticed that Chen Zhi'an was supporting the fishing rod with one hand while forming a sword-finger with the other, gesturing gently.

Flowing across it were wisps of true essence, wave upon successive wave, quite exquisite.

"Blade technique of a third-grade profound technique grade."

Old General Shen perceived the rolling tides of true essence emanating from Chen Zhi'an.

Yet a split second later, Old General Shen suddenly froze. He looked far out across the Qingshui River and saw that the ripples upon the water were likewise surging wave upon wave.

"Iron-Armed General, look at the ripples and waves of this river. Do they not resemble an advancing army?" Chen Zhi'an suddenly asked.

The Iron-Armed General remained silent for a few breaths before nodding. "They resemble it."

"Yet they are still not quite like enough. You ought to go and behold the Yellow Dragon River, which flows right through the Suspension Capital. The most powerful current of the Yellow Dragon River's waters is found right beneath Mount Xiuba. When the waters of the Yellow Dragon River rush forth, wave upon surging wave truly sound like the roars and shouts of an army of one hundred thousand, or like thousands of swordsmen drawing their blades, or even more like ten thousand battle-steeds galloping abreast, surging forward mightily and grandly."

"The Yellow Dragon River..." Chen Zhi'an carefully committed it to memory.

Beside him, the Iron-Armed General steadied the fishing rod in his hand and reeled in yet another fish.

Chen Zhi'an looked at his fish with envy.

The General, in turn, looked at Chen Zhi'an with envy.

"By observing the river's waters, this Chen Zhi'an is about to comprehend blade intent, bringing his third-grade profound technique to perfection."

—

Within the Jade Hibiscus Palace.

A few days prior, Princess Linglong had specially invited several scholars from the Imperial Academy, instructing them to trace the origins of a certain poet.

Yet those Imperial Academy scholars had spent several days searching through ancient texts to no avail.

Neither in the fragmentary records of the Great Xi nor in the annals of the Great Yu was there any poet named "Li Bai."

Unwilling to give up, Princess Linglong even consulted several grand academicians, only to receive the exact same result.

Tonight, before Princess Linglong lay that extraordinary painting, her pupils—resembling a thousand bushels of luminous pearls—fell upon the artwork.

She lingered over the portrait and the poetic verses inscribed in the upper-left corner.

She simply felt that the figure was drawn with exquisite beauty.

At the same time, she felt the poem was exceptionally wonderful—so wonderful that whenever she read it, tears invariably welled up in her eyes.

"Clouds think of clothes and flowers think of face, Spring breeze flutters the balustrade, the dew of blossoms rich and dense.

If not seen atop the peak of the Immortals' Mountain, One would meet them beneath the moon at the Jade Terrace."

In a mere four lines, Princess Linglong felt this poem surpassed any verse she had ever encountered in her life.

"There is simply no poet named Li Bai in this world. Otherwise, had he been able to write such a poem, he would have long since achieved worldwide renown; how could he remain unknown?"

Thinking thus, Princess Linglong looked again at the signature in the lower-right corner of the painting.

"Sunan Prefecture... Chen Zhi'an."

"Perhaps this Chen Zhi'an is of advanced years, and his long life allowed him to accidentally acquire this poem."

"Or perhaps, this Li Bai is merely a pseudonym."

Countless literary figures throughout the world created works under pseudonyms, yet try as she might, Princess Linglong could not fathom who else in the world could adopt a pseudonym to write such a verse.

"This stanza—'Clouds think of clothes and flowers think of face'—appeared for the very first time right upon this painting."

"That being the case, could this poem not originate from the brush of this Chen Zhi'an himself? Could Li Bai be his pseudonym?"

Her mind conjuring numerous scenarios, Princess Linglong developed a deep and intense curiosity toward this painter residing far away in Sunan Prefecture.

"I wonder if he has set off on his journey yet..."

She thought to herself within her heart.