Chapter Ninety-Five: East-West Market

Only when the market vendors in Hong’an Ward began to shout their wares did the inn grow lively at all, and the footsteps of passing travelers finally woke Yan Shan and Xiao Zhi from their sleep.

Yan Shan rubbed his eyes and looked around. Luo Gan was already gone. He went to knock on the neighboring door, but it was a long while before Xiao Zhi came to answer it, and Liu Buwen was nowhere to be seen in the room either.

“Brother Xiao Zhi, how come no one’s in your room either?”

Still heavy-eyed with sleep, Xiao Zhi only then realized that Liu Buwen had truly vanished from his room as well. He was still half-dazed and not fully awake.

“Huh? It really does seem like I didn’t see him,” Xiao Zhi muttered, walking unsteadily to his bed and searching around for Liu Buwen. Then he looked back and said, “He’s really gone.”

Yan Shan shook his head. They had all drunk far too much the night before, and Xiao Zhi was still wandering in a dream. He clapped his hands and summoned the innkeeper, asking for a cup of water for Xiao Zhi to drink.

The West Market was crowded and bustling. Liu Buwen pushed through the throng, glancing about as he made for the shops.

The aroma of roast goose drifted through the air; inside the tailor’s shop hung garments in vivid colors and fashionable designs; in the weapons shop the blacksmith’s hammer rang out with sharp clanging. None of it could slow Liu Buwen’s hurried steps. He merely cast a glance into each shop, and if he did not spot what he wanted, he moved on at once.

His mind was elsewhere. He had come to Chang’an not only to broaden his horizons, but also for another treasure he wished to see whether it was hidden in the most prosperous place under heaven.

Deeper in the streets of the West Market stood a humble pickle shop, while beside it a mutton shop steamed with such business that it had stolen all the customers away.

Following that street further into the ward, he soon came upon a bookshop. Hanging above its door was a plaque that read Pavilion of a Hundred Fragrances, and a look of delight spread across Liu Buwen’s face.

Inside, bookshelves stood in no orderly fashion, here and there; there were stitched volumes whose ink had aged into elegant traces, as well as stacks of bamboo slips containing the classics and the works of famous authors. The whole shop smelled faintly of sandalwood and burning wood, and the fragrance of books gave it a refined air.

The proprietor looked like a scholar himself, dressed in plain robes and smiling warmly. Only a few customers were browsing inside, leafing through various texts.

Liu Buwen strolled to a bookshelf and pulled out a volume. It contained the Book of Songs and other classical writings, and he was so taken with it that he could hardly put it down. But remembering the little travel money he had brought, he reluctantly set it back.

A middle-aged man standing nearby caught his attention. He wore broad sleeves and flowing robes with effortless elegance and poise, a wrapped cap on his head, a round collar at his neck, tall boots on his feet, and a jade belt clasp at his waist. At a glance, he was clearly a person of rank and distinction. He was holding a book and reading with great interest.

Liu Buwen approached him, pretending merely to pass by, though his eyes kept darting toward the book in the man’s hands. The volume was filled with gods, demons, ghosts, and strange wonders, along with hexagrams and divination. He crouched down and picked through other books nearby, still sneaking looks at the pages.

“Are you also interested in this book, sir?” the man asked.

Startled, Liu Buwen, who had thought himself flawless in his disguise, leaped in surprise and hurriedly stepped back several paces.

The man’s features were stern and majestic, his gaze as clear and faultless as the bright moon, and his voice deep and powerful enough to fill the entire bookshop with a single sentence, drawing every other visitor to turn and look.

“No, no, you’ve misunderstood. I mean, it isn’t that…” Liu Buwen blurted out incoherently, flustered and not knowing how to answer.

The man looked at the book in his hand, then at Liu Buwen. After that, he held the volume out to him. Liu Buwen widened his eyes and took a careful look.

“Indeed, this is the masterwork of Li Chunfeng!”

The man seemed pleasantly surprised. “So you too know of Li Chunfeng?”

Liu Buwen’s face lit up. “Of course! Li Chunfeng was a great master of his age, renowned for astrology and divination. I heard of this book from thousands of miles away, and rumor among the people says it foretells future events.”

The man stroked his beard, a faint smile touching the corner of his mouth, the look of an elder regarding a younger man.

“The hidden dragon lies in the marketplace. There are many scholars in the world after all.”

“Exactly! Knowledge is boundless,” Liu Buwen said, suddenly struck by inspiration. He felt that if he showed off a little in front of this nobleman, perhaps an opportunity would come of it. “To be honest, I’ve studied this a bit myself.”

“Oh?”

“Since the fall of Jin, the realm has been in turmoil year after year, and the people have suffered unbearably. Many think Emperor Gong’s incompetence was the key cause, but I do not agree. The fall of Jin was only a fig leaf. A boat is borne by the water, and by the water it is overturned as well. In the Jin dynasty, people cared only for spirits and ghosts and never spoke of home or country. How could that be a good thing?”

The man glanced at the book and said, “So in your view, if this book has now become a treasure passed down through the ages, then it is the best proof that the people have been living in misery?”

Liu Buwen bowed and replied, “On the contrary, it is a sign of good fortune!”

The man was surprised. “How do you make that out?”

“Since the Tang united the realm, though the span has been short, its armies are strong and its horses vigorous. Though foreign tribes have invaded from beyond the borders, we have the Great Wall and our generals to defend the land. The people are prospering in their trades. Though there are powerful enemies, the hearts of the people remain steady. As for talk of gods and ghosts and monsters, only a dull bookworm like me still cares for such things. How could that not be a blessing?”

The man laughed out loud. “I too believe that cultivating oneself and nurturing virtue is the proper national policy. No matter how formidable the enemy may be, enriching the state and strengthening the army for the people’s benefit is the way of a truly powerful nation. For a century now, chaos has never ceased; restoring moral clarity and proper rites is what matters most!”

“Just so,” Liu Buwen said. “It is what the people desire, and what enemy states fear most.”

The man looked directly at him and asked, “May I ask where you hold office?”

Liu Buwen lowered his head. “It is shameful to say. My father served as an official in the former dynasty, and I, through my own inadequacy, have failed the examinations many times and now idle at home.”

The man sighed and said, “The former emperor was dark and tyrannical; that was no official’s fault. Why should you be burdened by it? If you have ambition to serve the realm, I hope you will remain steadfast and open the way for your talents to be heard.”

Liu Buwen bowed deeply. “I am grateful for your kind words, brother. May I ask your surname?”

The man returned the bow. “My surname is Wei.”

At that moment the man heard a burst of drumbeats. He turned and looked, his brow creasing with worry.

“I have matters to attend to, so I must take my leave.”

He bid farewell to Liu Buwen and walked toward the door. Then, as though recalling something, he turned back and said, “There is a pickle shop by the corner near the entrance. You might go taste it.”

Liu Buwen nodded and watched him depart, feeling deeply moved. He then looked again at the book in his hands. It was The Chart of the Back-Pushing, and within it were recorded prophecies concerning the future, all at once drawing his full attention...

Yan Shan pulled Xiao Zhi out of the inn and took him for a casual stroll through the streets.

The two of them had eaten some goose meat to fill their stomachs and were wandering aimlessly.

“Yan Shan,” Xiao Zhi said, “where do you think those two went?”

“I don’t know. The guild master should be with Miss Jun Tao. As for Young Master Liu, he probably just followed some whim and went elsewhere.”

Xiao Zhi groaned. “Honestly, those two! They go out without even saying a word. Chang’an is so huge—what if they get lost?”

Yan Shan suddenly turned back. Xiao Zhi, coming up behind him, crashed into his back and ended up with a bruised face.

“Maybe it isn’t the guild master and the others who are lost,” Yan Shan said. “Maybe it’s us.”

Xiao Zhi rubbed his nose and looked around. What he saw left him stunned: rows of pavilions, as grand as the Glancing-Clear Pavilion, stood in neat succession, and within them young women in red garments were captivating beyond measure, while the crowds came and went without end and a sweet scent drifted along the streets.

Yan Shan and Xiao Zhi did not know it yet. They had wandered into Pingkang Ward of Chang’an, where the flower of desire blooms.