Chapter 3: Matters of Ennoblement in Years Past |
Li Shun had sat in silent meditation through the entire night. When the first pale light of dawn crept across the horizon, he pushed open the door and stepped outside.
Bathed in the faint morning glow, he moved with practiced familiarity, turning into a narrow and inconspicuous bookstore tucked away within Lengshan County.
The shopkeeper was a young man, no more than eighteen or nineteen, with refined and delicate features. Yet within his calm, unfathomable eyes lingered a trace of age and weariness wholly at odds with his youthful appearance.
“The Crippled one, back again? Which book are you after this time?” The shopkeeper showed no surprise at Li Shun’s early visit. His tone carried an air of easy familiarity.
With a casual sweep of his sleeve, the shop door shut on its own.
The already dim interior plunged into deeper shadow.
“Record of Emperor''s Exegesis.” Li Shun lowered his voice, speaking concisely.
The shopkeeper chuckled softly. “Knew it. I’ve had it ready for you. Same rules as always. Same price.”
With a flick of his fingers, he drew out a single yellowed, worn page from his sleeve and placed it face-down on the mottled wooden table.
“Another one.” Li Shun lowered his gaze slightly, his tone indifferent.
The shopkeeper paused, momentarily taken aback. Then he let out a quiet laugh and shook his head. “You’ve gotten picky, haven’t you? Fine. Pick for yourself.”
With a snap of his fingers, over a dozen pages of varying shades flew out like scattered petals, neatly arranging themselves across the table.
Li Shun swept his gaze across them and casually selected one, slipping it into his robes. Then he reached into his chest, carefully retrieving a small gray cloth bundle. Layer by layer, he unwrapped it, revealing a stalk of Lengshan Grass that emitted a faint blue glow.
Feigning reluctance, he delicately plucked three crystalline leaves from it and placed them on the table.
“Three leaves?” A flicker of surprise passed through the shopkeeper’s eyes. “Wasn’t it one leaf per page?”
Though he spoke thus, his hands moved with lightning speed. With a subtle motion of his sleeve, the three faintly glowing leaves had already vanished from sight.
“The extra two,” Li Shun said calmly, “I want information on ‘Lengshan Venerable.’”
“Lengshan Venerable?!” The shopkeeper’s previously languid demeanor vanished in an instant. His sharp gaze locked onto Li Shun. “Don’t tell me… you’ve managed to cultivate one?”
In truth, Li Shun knew nothing about this so-called “Lengshan Venerable.” But from the man’s reaction, he immediately deduced that it must be closely tied to the Lengshan Grass.
Without changing expression, he shook his head. “If it were that easy, would I still be here? I’ve spent half a lifetime fumbling in the dark and only grasped a few clues. While this old body still has some strength left, I want to take one final gamble. But I know too little about it. That’s why I came to you.”
His words were a seamless blend of truth and falsehood, leaving no room for suspicion.
The shopkeeper indeed showed no doubt. In his eyes, a lowly laborer managing to meet annual quotas was already fortunate. Yet this crippled man not only did so year after year but even had surplus Lengshan Grass to trade. Clearly, he had some skill in cultivating spirit plants. That he now sought to advance further was only natural.
The shopkeeper tapped his finger lightly against the table, lost in thought. After a brief moment, he nodded.
“Fine. But I have one condition.”
“Name it.”
“If one day you truly succeed… I want a written record of your cultivation insights.”
“That’s all?” Li Shun raised a brow slightly.
The shopkeeper simply smiled and nodded.
“Deal.” Li Shun agreed without hesitation.
“Lengshan Venerable…” The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes, tapping the table once more.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
With each rhythmic knock, faint golden lights flickered to life deep within the dim shop. Hundreds of shimmering, illusory characters surged forth like moths to flame, weaving together midair into a radiant text.
The shopkeeper casually tossed out a blank sheet of paper. Instantly, the golden characters descended upon it, embedding themselves as fresh ink.
“Many thanks.” Li Shun accepted the paper, folding it away without even glancing at its contents.
As he turned to leave, his step faltered slightly. He paused and looked back.
“We’ve known each other this long, yet I still don’t know your name.”
The shopkeeper did not answer immediately. Instead, he studied Li Shun carefully from head to toe. After a moment, he finally spoke.
“Zhou Xunzhen.”
Li Shun clasped his fists in salute and stepped out.
As he left, his gaze briefly swept over the plaque hanging above the entrance. Four bold characters were inscribed upon it:
Jixia Bookshop.
Blending into the bustling morning crowd, Li Shun appeared to wander aimlessly through the marketplace. Yet a strand of his consciousness had already sunk into the Fangcun space within him, examining the two pages Zhou Xunzhen had given him.
From the information contained within those lines, Li Shun finally came to understand what this so-called “Lengshan Venerable” truly was.
“The emperor among Lengshan Grass is known as the Lengshan Venerable. During its growth, there is a certain chance for Lengshan Grass to undergo a metamorphosis and ascend into a Lengshan Venerable. However, the probability is exceedingly low. In the five hundred and seventy-two years since the founding of the Great Qian Dynasty, only three such specimens have ever appeared in all of Lengshan County.”
“Although the authorities have already mastered a secret method to mass-produce Lengshan Grass, they remain completely incapable of cultivating a Lengshan Venerable. Thus, the value of the two differs as greatly as heaven and earth.”
“In the 333rd year of the New Calendar, a laborer in Lengshan County happened upon such a fortune and successfully cultivated a Lengshan Venerable. The imperial court was overjoyed and bestowed great rewards upon him, promoting him four ranks in succession. From a lowly commoner, he leapt to the fourth-rank title of ‘Bugeng,’ and from that moment on, he was freed from the burden of labor…”
Li Shun’s expression remained unchanged, but beneath the surface, faint ripples had already begun to stir in his heart.
“So, a fourth Lengshan Venerable has appeared in Lengshan County this year. That must be what drew those remnants of the Xiang Kingdom.”
Suppressing the waves of thought within him, Li Shun shifted his gaze to the second sheet of paper.
Only a short passage was written upon it:
[The Emperor, desiring to gather the wealth of the four seas, issued an edict to the Grand Minister of Agriculture, Gongshu Yuan, ordering him to reform the currency system. Yuan submitted a memorial, saying: “In former times, when the various states were divided, coinage was chaotic, differing in weight and value, giving rise to deceit among merchants. Now that all under heaven is unified, the foundation must be rectified. I propose abolishing all old coinage and minting a single new currency, to be named ‘Yuan.’ ‘Yuan’ signifies origin and beginning. Vast is the Primordial Qian, from which all things arise. With this currency to facilitate trade and exchange, the majesty of unity will be made manifest.” The Emperor was greatly pleased and approved the proposal. Thus, all gold, silver, pearls, and jade under heaven were gathered into the state treasury and hidden deep within the inner vaults. Among the common people, only ‘Yuan’ coins circulated, while true gold and silver vanished from the world.]
“So that’s how it is…” Li Shun let out a silent sigh.
Having arrived in this world for twenty-six years, he had long since grown accustomed to the many strange and incongruous aspects of this unified empire.
For instance, the twenty-four-hour timekeeping system, the sun being forcibly delayed until eleven at night before setting, and this legal currency known as “Yuan.”
At first, Li Shun had secretly suspected that the lofty Emperor of Great Qian might also be a transmigrator like himself. It was only after he spent a great price at the Jixia Bookshop to obtain fragment after fragment of the [Records of Emperor''s Exegesis] that he gradually glimpsed the hidden currents of this vast empire’s history and completely overturned that assumption.
“After tomorrow’s reset, I can exchange for another page.”
“Unfortunately, in this remote Lengshan County, there are not many remaining fragments of the Records of Emperor''s Exegesis that I haven’t yet read.”
The [Records of Emperor''s Exegesis] was a monumental work authored by the Grand Historian, documenting the events of Great Qian after its founding.
It was said that the Grand Historian and the Qian Emperor had been close companions since childhood. Thus, he dared to record what others dared not record, and judge what others dared not judge.
Unfortunately, in the 454th year of the New Calendar, the Grand Historian passed away at the end of his lifespan.
From that point on, neither the court nor the common world had anyone who dared, or was able, to take up the brush and continue such a responsibility.
The Records of Emperor''s Exegesis thus became an unfinished masterpiece. The original manuscript was sealed deep within the palace, while only scattered excerpts copied in earlier years remained in circulation among the people.
“Many of those recorded in the text are still alive today, and most now wield immense power within the court. Naturally, these influential officials are unwilling to have the secrets of their humble beginnings laid bare before the world. Thus, although the Records of Emperor''s Exegesis is not officially banned, it has become a silent taboo. If not for the Lengshan Grass I offered in exchange, Zhou Xunzhen would never have brought it out.”
…
Lost in thought, Li Shun limped forward without pause. Before long, he arrived at the Lengshan marketplace.
He deliberately concealed his movements, wandering between various stalls and shops, purchasing a total of ninety “Reflection Coins” in scattered batches.
The total cost exceeded twenty thousand Yuan.
Though Li Shun was a laborer, he still received a monthly wage of three thousand Yuan.
Moreover, aside from food and drink, he had almost no expenses in Lengshan County. Over the years, he had accumulated a modest amount of savings. This sum was well within his means.
Each Reflection Coin came in a pair, divided into a mother coin and a child coin.
Once activated, they could remain functional for seven consecutive days. The mother coin would reflect the surroundings of the child coin like a water mirror.
This item had originally been created by the military, used as a powerful tool for spies to gather intelligence. After the unification of the realm and the end of warfare, such military supplies gradually found their way into civilian life, becoming a commonly used means of communication.
Carrying the Reflection Coins, Li Shun quietly returned to his wooden hut. After making some preparations, he called over Old Feng from next door.
“Cripple, you were looking for me?” Feng Guan asked as he stepped inside.
Without a word, Li Shun waved his hand. With a clatter, all ninety faintly gleaming Reflection Coins were spread across the rough wooden table.
“Old Feng, do me a favor.”
As Li Shun slowly laid out his plan in a low voice, Feng Guan’s originally clouded eyes widened in an instant. His face filled with undisguised shock.
Like a startled bird, he hurriedly glanced outside before lowering his voice, which trembled uncontrollably. “Cripple, what are you trying to do? Spreading these things all over the county… If the authorities find out, we’ll lose our heads!”
Li Shun cut him off coldly. His deep gaze pierced straight into Feng Guan as he asked only one question, his tone heavy with meaning:
“Old Feng, take a good look at yourself. How many more years do you think you have left to live?”
Feng Guan’s words died in his throat. He stood frozen on the spot.
Li Shun thoughtfully handed him a mirror he had prepared beforehand.
Feng Guan instinctively looked at his reflection.
A face crisscrossed with deep wrinkles, hair sparse and white like withered grass.
That gray, decaying visage was completely different from the young man he remembered himself to be.
He did not know how many years he had endured in this hellish Lengshan County without ever looking into a mirror, without daring to face his own appearance.
Now, Feng Guan was utterly stunned.
The room fell into a deathly silence.
After a long while, Feng Guan finally raised a trembling hand. Murky tears welled up in his eyes as he muttered in despair, “I… I’ve already become this old…”
Li Shun slowly walked to his side. He raised a hand and firmly patted Feng Guan’s hunched shoulder, then leaned in and spoke in a low voice:
“Now, there is a chance to defy fate and change your destiny… right in front of you.”
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