Chapter Fourteen: Once Having Seen the Vast Ocean, No Other Waters Suffice (3)

Overnight, Kong Sheng's name swept across the entire Jiangning Commandery, like a stone cast into a lake, sending ripples outward and astonishing all who heard of him. The notorious libertine, once dismissed as a good-for-nothing living off others, was suddenly revealed as a man of extraordinary talent—his "By the Qinhuai" spoke of deep national concern, his "Song of Everlasting Regret" surged with grandeur, and his "Full River Red" brimmed with heroic ambition. Like the ceaseless waves of the Yangtze, his fame roared through the city, leaving countless people dumbstruck.

Stories of the emergence of the prodigy Kong Sheng spread in countless versions, fueling heated discussions among scholars and commoners from Jiangning to the wider Jiangnan region. Meanwhile, Kong Sheng seized every moment to learn internal cultivation and swordsmanship from Bai Yunzi. A master had come to his door—this was the foundation and auspicious beginning for him to find his place in this era; how could he possibly let this chance slip by?

The methods of inner cultivation were not difficult to memorize, and the sword techniques were not overly complex—so long as he applied himself, he could commit them all to heart and practice them at leisure later. In Kong Sheng’s view, it was simply a matter of practice and perseverance; after all, he had some experience in martial arts from before.

What vexed Kong Sheng most was that riding a horse seemed harder than anything else!

From afternoon until dusk, he had been training with Atai in the wilds outside the city for two hours. Despite Atai’s endless patience in teaching him the art of horsemanship, guiding him hand-in-hand, what sounded simple was torturously difficult in practice. After being thrown from the back of the fierce white horse several times—ending up battered and bruised—Kong Sheng had to accept reality: “Three feet of ice is not formed in a day,” he thought. Clearly, mastering horsemanship was not something to be achieved overnight. Since he’d already memorized the essentials, he would have to persevere over time.

Horsemanship was a skill he had to master. In this era, there were no trains, cars, or planes—if he couldn't ride, he lacked a basic skill for survival and would suffer for it in days to come. Never mind his grand ambitions to carve out a new world for himself; even for the sake of daily travel, he would need to be proficient in riding.

Rubbing his sore and numb waist, Kong Sheng shot a glare at the white horse and muttered under his breath, "If you keep being this uncooperative, be careful—I might just slaughter you for meat!"

The white steed, which Atai had named Wind Chaser, was startled by Kong Sheng’s fierce look, thinking its new master was about to explode again. It snorted nervously and backed away in fear.

Atai, standing by, was half amused and half exasperated. “Junior brother, this is a rare and precious steed. You must learn to value it. Man and horse need time to get used to each other—this horse is intelligent. If you treat it sincerely, in time it will adapt to your riding. If you keep trying to intimidate it with brute force, you’ll ruin a fine horse. Wouldn’t that be a pity?”

“If a proud steed becomes timid as a mouse, is it still a steed worth having?”

“Senior brother, you’re right. I was too impatient,” Kong Sheng replied with an awkward laugh. He understood what Atai meant: man and horse needed a period of adjustment. For a novice like him, paired with a proud and spirited animal, it would simply take more time for them to form a bond.

Kong Sheng sighed inwardly and reached out to stroke the horse’s back, but the steed shuddered at his touch, leaving him to smile wryly—clearly, the horse was now afraid of his roughness.

…

The Yang Residence.

Yang Qi left the imposing government office of the Jiangnan Circuit and rode in his signature, lavish carriage back to his mansion. Hastily changing out of his official robes, he ordered a servant to summon the head steward, Yang Kuan.

Madam Zheng, mature and elegant, wore a look of suspicion. Her husband’s words and her daughter’s report had left her reeling—what? That young servant of the Kong family had hidden depths and displayed astonishing talent today? Did that mean the Yang family had misjudged him for two years?

While they waited for Yang Kuan, Lady Zheng glanced at her daughter, Yang Xueruo, who stood behind them with lowered eyes, then turned back to her husband and asked softly, “My lord, is it true that that boy Kong Sheng is truly so talented?”

Yang Qi nodded slowly, his tone grave. “We were indeed mistaken. Now that I think back, his previous attempts to conceal himself must have had some hidden motive. His public display of talent today was nothing but a demonstration—a warning to me and the Yang family. Hmph! That boy is cunning indeed. For all my years in officialdom, I was played for a fool by him these last two years without realizing it. How infuriating!”

He snorted coldly.

Madam Zheng opened her mouth, then fell silent, unable to accept how a wastrel could turn into a prodigy overnight. For two years, she had seen Kong Sheng as a dissolute idler. Her contempt and disdain had been nurtured over a long time; it would not be easy to change her view so suddenly.

Yang Kuan entered the hall cautiously, bowing to Yang Qi, Lady Zheng, and Miss Xueruo. “This humble servant greets the master, madam, and young lady!”

Yang Qi waved his hand. “Rise, Yang Kuan. I have a question—how did the matter I instructed you to handle go?”

Yang Kuan stood respectfully. “Reporting to the master: the young man from the Kong family did not return to his ancestral home; instead, he is staying at the Shunsheng Inn in the city. That immortal, Bai Yunzi, is residing there as well. I have learned that Bai Yunzi has accepted Kong Sheng as a lay disciple. At this moment, Kong Sheng is outside the city, learning horsemanship from Bai Yunzi’s acolyte.”

“He’s really been accepted as a disciple?” Yang Qi was shocked and stood up abruptly. “Are you certain?”

“I would not dare deceive you, sir,” Yang Kuan replied, sweating internally. Who would dare lie to this master?

Yang Qi exhaled, sat back down, and his expression turned contemplative. Bai Yunzi was a legendary figure of the Tang. For Kong Sheng to become his disciple was a stroke of great fortune. Could it be that the old Daoist had come to Jiangning specifically for Kong Sheng? Was there more to this than met the eye?

He fell into deep thought. Seeing his grim expression, not even Lady Zheng or Yang Xueruo dared to interrupt, let alone a servant like Yang Kuan.

After a while, Yang Qi suddenly sneered, “That boy is certainly lucky! But here in Jiangnan, in the city of Jiangning, even a dragon must coil itself if I command it. So his fame is on the rise—so what? If he goes against my wishes, this so-called genius will be nothing but a joke!”

He had offered an olive branch to Kong Sheng at the poetry gathering, hoping to restore the marriage alliance between their families—a great favor, in his eyes. Yet Kong Sheng had rebuffed him, causing him to lose face. As the local “lord” of Jiangnan, Yang Qi would not let such a slight go unpunished. More importantly, he harbored deeper ambitions. Ambition required strength, and for the past two years he had been secretly gathering loyal men and recruiting talents for his future plans. Now that Kong Sheng had proven himself, he must be brought under Yang family control—if not…

A cold smile played at Yang Qi’s lips, sending a chill down Yang Kuan’s spine.

Yang Qi was well regarded in Jiangnan, known for his harmonious relations with colleagues and subordinates and his cultured, gentle manner. But as the head steward, Yang Kuan knew the truth—his master was outwardly refined and mild, but in reality, ruthless and calculating.

“Yang Kuan, go to Kong Sheng yourself. Tell him that I will restore his ancestral home and return it to him. If he has no objections, then two months from now, after my birthday, he and Xueruo will be wed! Tell him that after their marriage, I will petition the court to appoint him as County Magistrate of Danyang!” Yang Qi waved his hand slowly.

Yang Kuan was taken aback. The current magistrate of Danyang, Song Qing, was about to be promoted elsewhere. As the imperial commissioner in charge of Jiangnan’s military and civil affairs, Yang Qi had considerable authority over such appointments. The Tang court, preoccupied with suppressing rebellions, would scarcely notice.

“My lord, is this not a bit hasty?” Lady Zheng exclaimed, shocked.

Standing behind her, Yang Xueruo was even more stunned; her mouth fell open and stayed that way for a long moment. With just a word, her father had decided her life’s greatest matter—her marriage, and to the same Kong Sheng she had always thought of as a wastrel. The world had changed so much in just a few days that the girl was left dazed and unsettled.

She thought back to Kong Sheng’s former wantonness and then to his dazzling display of talent the day before. The two images overlapped in her mind—the dissolute and the elegant, the shallow and the brilliant—leaving her overwhelmed and lost in thought.