Chapter Twenty-Two: New Sorrows and Old Grievances (Part Two)

There are people in this world who, once glimpsed even for a moment, can never be forgotten. Clearly, the youth present in the small stone pavilion was just such a person. He was so strikingly handsome as to seem almost otherworldly, but this alone was not what caused Li Xian to lose his composure. The true reason for Li Xian’s sudden change of countenance lay in his recognition of the youth’s identity—Ming Chongyan. This very youth, so captivating in his beauty, would one day become renowned throughout the world as Ming Chongyan!

Ming Chongyan hailed from Yanshi in Luozhou, his ancestors part of the gentry of Pingyuan who served the Southern Dynasties for generations. His father, Ming Ke, reached the rank of Inspector of Yuzhou. In his youth, Ming Chongyan followed his father as he served as magistrate of Anxi, where he was taught strange arts by a mysterious figure. By the age of fifteen, he traveled the realm, and his reputation gradually spread. At seventeen, he became Assistant Magistrate of Huang’an County. Later, he caught the eye of Empress Wu and was summoned to the capital, where he became a favored courtier. Whatever he spoke of, he claimed to be inspired by spirits and deities, sowing confusion within the palace. He even conspired with Empress Wu, setting a precedent for licentiousness and chaos.

It was him—it was actually him, that damned scoundrel! Li Xian, who had just acquired new troubles in the Eastern Palace, never imagined he would be confronted with old grievances in this place. His emotions surged uncontrollably, his blood boiling, to the point where he nearly lost his composure. He was forced to take a deep breath to steady himself. Yet this breath, perhaps a bit too audible, disturbed the two in the pavilion—an old man and a youth. In an instant, both moved at once, and a dazzling, blinding light erupted without warning, so sudden that Li Xian was caught completely unprepared. His vision swam, his head spun with dizziness.

“Sir, you are truly skilled. I admit my defeat,” said Ming Chongyan, who had already risen and bowed respectfully to the elder, speaking with sincere humility before Li Xian could gather his bearings.

“You are too modest, Young Master Ming. Your learning is extraordinary; in time, you will surely achieve greatness. I look forward to that day.” The old man stood and returned the bow, offering his praise with a smile. Then, without waiting for further words from Ming Chongyan, he turned his attention toward Li Xian, who stood at the garden gate. With a single measured step, he was suddenly before him, and with but a glance, a peculiar glint flashed swiftly in his eyes.

“Your humble prince, Li Xian, apologizes for intruding. I hope Grand Historian Li will be generous in his forgiveness.” Li Xian, though troubled within, maintained perfect courtesy, bowing politely.

“Not at all, not at all. I did not know Your Highness the Prince of Zhou would arrive, and failed to greet you from afar. Please accept my apologies for this lapse.” The strange look in Li Chunfeng’s eyes vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Seeing Li Xian salute him, Li Chunfeng dared not put on airs. He stepped back with a bow, offering his deferential reply.

“You are too kind, Grand Historian Li.” In his previous life, Li Xian, being younger, had never interacted with Li Chunfeng, but had often heard tales of the man’s prophetic gifts and knew his abilities were truly extraordinary. Thus, he would not dare to act imperiously in his presence. Moreover, Li Xian’s intent in coming here was to seek a master, which made it all the more necessary to show humility and respect. He replied with a modest smile.

“Ming Chongyan of Luoyang pays his respects to Your Highness the Prince of Zhou.” At this moment, clad in white robes, Ming Chongyan stepped forward, raising his voice in greeting as soon as he saw the exchange of courtesies had ended.

“You need not be so formal, Young Master Ming. I have long heard of your reputation, and seeing you today, you are truly remarkable—a worthy gentleman indeed!” Li Xian had deep-seated old grudges against Ming Chongyan from his previous life, and not trivial ones. Back then, Ming Chongyan’s affair with Wu Meiniang shamed all the imperial princes, Li Xian included. But that was not the crux of it. The real trouble was that Ming Chongyan publicly declared, through physiognomy, that “Li Xian was not virtuous, while Li Xian resembled Taizong,” which resulted in Li Xian being severely punished by then Crown Prince Li Xian and aroused Wu Meiniang’s enmity. His trusted followers were either exiled or killed on false charges, so that when Li Xian first ascended the throne, he found himself without a single loyal confidant, left at Empress Wu’s mercy. These were public grievances. Private ones abounded as well—after gaining favor, Ming Chongyan became insufferably arrogant in court, and often, in his cups, would order Li Xian about like a servant, humiliating him before the court and making him the laughingstock of the realm. With so many layers of resentment, even though Li Xian knew none of this had yet occurred, the mere recollection of “past events” made his hatred surge uncontrollably. However, the present Li Xian was no longer the naive youth of Wu. Despite his inward loathing, his face remained beaming and cordial as he politely praised Ming Chongyan.

“Your Highness flatters me; I am unworthy of such praise.” Ming Chongyan was momentarily stunned by Li Xian’s words. At this point, he had only just begun his travels, with Chang’an as his first stop and Li Chunfeng as the first sage he visited—he had no reputation to speak of. He simply assumed Li Xian was exchanging pleasantries and did not take it to heart. After returning the courtesy, he looked carefully at Li Xian, his expression suddenly shifting, and he could not help but emit a soft gasp.

“What? Do you see anything amiss about me?” Ming Chongyan’s slight gasp made Li Xian’s heart jump, for he knew his own circumstances well. He feared he might give himself away before these two, both famed for their mastery of physiognomy, no ordinary men. If they discerned anything, things could become very interesting indeed. Of course, Li Xian did not entirely believe in the art, but dared not disregard it either. So he laughed heartily, feigning casual interest as he teased.

“Your High—” Ming Chongyan, still youthful, could not contain himself when questioned. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could continue, Li Chunfeng interrupted with a cheerful laugh, “Your Highness is an honored guest. I dare not keep you standing in this drafty place. Why not come inside and converse?”

“Excellent—this journey has indeed left me weary. I shall follow your arrangements, Grand Historian Li.” Li Xian, though curious about what Ming Chongyan might have said, was more concerned with caution. Seeing Li Chunfeng change the subject, he gladly went along.

“Very well, please follow me, Your Highness.” Li Chunfeng smiled and gestured for him to proceed.

“Master, I have some mundane matters to attend to and must take my leave,” Ming Chongyan, being of noble birth, knew etiquette. Seeing that Li Chunfeng had not invited him to stay, he did not linger. He bowed and bade farewell.

“I’ve been remiss, Young Master Ming. Permit me to act as host and make amends another day,” Li Chunfeng replied with polite formality, showing no intention of persuading Ming Chongyan to stay. Then, turning to Jade Ji, who stood nearby, he beckoned, “Jade Ji, escort Young Master Ming for me.”

“Yes, Master,” Jade Ji replied respectfully, stepping forward and gesturing with a sweep of the hand, “This way, Young Master Ming.”

Ming Chongyan glanced at Li Chunfeng, then at Li Xian, as if wishing to speak further, but in the end said nothing more. He bowed to them both and departed, accompanied by Jade Ji.

What was that youth doing here—competing in martial arts? And what was the meaning of that dazzling light just now? Li Xian’s gaze followed Ming Chongyan’s retreating figure, his eyes full of complex emotions—confusion, resentment, anger. His thoughts drifted: should he, before Ming Chongyan rose to prominence, simply send someone to eliminate him and settle everything once and for all?

“Your Highness, this way please!” Li Chunfeng called out, snapping Li Xian from his wayward thoughts.

“Ah, yes, Grand Historian Li, after you.”

Jolted by Li Chunfeng’s interruption, Li Xian realized he had let his emotions show and hastily composed himself, replying with a somewhat flustered but cordial smile.

Li Chunfeng said nothing more, only giving Li Xian a meaningful glance as he stepped aside and led him toward the main courtyard. Passing through several gates, they arrived at a quiet room. Li Chunfeng invited Li Xian to take the seat of honor, then excused himself and knelt behind a small table on Li Xian’s lower left.

The room was austere, even plain—besides two tables, a burning brazier, and a folding screen shielding the entrance, there was nothing else. There wasn’t even an incense altar. Such sparse furnishings were inferior even to those of common folk. Had he not seen it with his own eyes, Li Xian would scarcely have believed this to be the reception room of a man who had served in office for forty years. The only thing that caught Li Xian’s attention was the diagram of the Cosmic Bagua painted on the screen—Li Xian had read the Book of Changes and was no stranger to the Eight Trigrams, but this depiction was unlike any he had seen. The yin-yang fish were clearly much larger than usual, and, more curiously, the yin fish was distinctly larger than the yang fish, an obvious sign of yin flourishing and yang waning. Li Xian found himself staring, entranced.

“Your Highness, please have some tea.” While Li Xian was lost in contemplation of the diagram, Li Chunfeng had already prepared tea and set a bowl before him with a smile.

“Oh, thank you, Grand Historian Li. I was momentarily captivated—please forgive my rudeness,” Li Xian replied, coming to his senses and accepting the tea with a smile.

“Does Your Highness also study the Book of Changes?” Li Chunfeng asked with an easy smile, as if in passing.

“You jest, Grand Historian. I have read a little, but without deep understanding. If I could receive your guidance, it would be my great fortune,” Li Xian replied, immediately taking the opportunity. For he had come with the intention of seeking a master.

Li Chunfeng was not oblivious to Li Xian’s meaning, yet he did not pursue the topic. He merely swept his sleeve and smiled lightly, “Fate has its fixed course. Young Master Ming’s destiny is not yet spent; it cannot be interfered with.”

Though Li Chunfeng’s tone was calm, the words struck Li Xian like thunder. Startled, his hand trembled, and the tea bowl tilted, spilling tea in all directions…