Chapter 11: The Beginning of Fate

Before his unexpected arrival in the Tang Dynasty, Lu Xin’s last memory was organizing his grandfather’s room in the ancestral hall. At the time, Lu Tingfang had flipped through a notebook, which mentioned a book called “The Scripture of Virtuous Burial.” This was a treasured heirloom passed down through the Lu family for generations, but it had apparently been lost during the turbulent years of the Republic. The family head at the time had felt deeply guilty over its loss, a testament to its significance.

“It can’t be just a coincidence, can it?”

Lu Xin stared intently at every character embroidered on the silk, a grave expression on his face. He couldn’t make out even the general meaning of the book’s contents, but if its title truly was “The Scripture of Virtuous Burial,” then his connection to it was far more than could be explained in a few words. After all, a book written on silk was almost certainly one of a kind.

“Could this be what that monk was searching for? But aside from its unusual material, it doesn’t seem particularly extraordinary. Never mind, though I haven’t stumbled upon any money, this book is likely what my ancestors have been safeguarding all along. Perhaps one day I’ll uncover its secrets.”

Rather than stuff the silk back into the bamboo tube, Lu Xin stripped off his clothes and wrapped it tightly around his body. The silk was soft and warm, shielding him from the cold, and worn against the skin, it would be less likely to be discovered. He quickly left the mass grave and, ten minutes later, returned to the open field where the carriage waited, carrying two buckets of water.

The cookfire was blazing. The Xu family’s chef, an elderly man in his fifties named Liu, was tending to the meal. Everyone sat around the fire, listening to Xu Sanjin recount tales of business.

Standing behind his master, Feng Li looked somewhat surprised when Lu Xin actually returned with two buckets of water. But he quickly regained his composure and called out from a distance, “You take half an hour just to fetch water? If you’re this slow with simple errands, who knows how long you’ll take for anything else?”

“In these wild hills, you think water’s so easy to find? Or would it please you if I’d been bitten by a snake?” Lu Xin set down his buckets with a snort, ignoring Feng Li’s expression as he strode back to the carriage. Feng Li, angered by such insolence, was about to teach him a lesson, but Xu Sanjin intervened.

“The boy’s just joined the household and doesn’t know all the rules yet. Give him some leeway for now, Feng Li. I know your loyalty and ability, which is why I always bring you with me. In the future, he’s yours to train—don’t disappoint me.”

“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll look after him well!”

Unaware of what fate awaited him in the Xu household, Lu Xin had already fallen into a deep sleep inside the carriage. Exhausted, he dreamed many dreams, but every scene was so hazy he could neither see nor recall them clearly.

Two days later, the caravan finally arrived at Shanyin County, seat of the Governor of Yue Prefecture and the region’s main city—akin to a modern provincial capital. Xu Sanjin’s residence was situated on the largest commercial street in Shanyin, directly across the river from the Governor’s office. As Lu Xin watched the scenery en route into the city, it was the quintessential water town of the Jiangnan region. He was no stranger to such surroundings; even a thousand years later, Zhejiang still preserved many ancient sites.

The Xu estate was vast, with deep courtyards and high walls—seven corridors in and out, hundreds of rooms, and countless inner enclosures within the walls. Lu Xin had visited the Forbidden City, and he reckoned the Xu estate was nearly half the size of the imperial city.

Upon Xu Sanjin’s return, he immediately went to visit his elderly mother. Lu Xin and the other servants were led by Feng Li to the western wing, reserved for the lower staff. It was a cluster of low, tiled houses—no rock gardens or ponds, no ornate beams or carved rafters. Compared to the other courtyards, Lu Xin felt as if he’d been transported back to a poor, rural village.

Feng Li found him a room shared with seven others; it was dilapidated. In Jiangnan’s spring, misty rains made the ground and walls perpetually damp. The bed was small, with no blanket, only a thin cotton quilt.

“In this household, low-rank servants must complete eight hours of menial work daily. Two meals a day—one at quarter past nine in the morning, the other at quarter to five in the afternoon. Be sure to eat at the west wing’s kitchen at those times or you’ll go hungry. Apart from that, you’re only permitted in the west and north wings. You may leave the estate once a month, but must report to the steward. And you may not leave the city—if you dare, your legs will be broken, no matter the reason. Do you understand?” Feng Li stood at the threshold with his hands behind his back, a cold smile on his lips. Perhaps put off by the damp and stink inside, he made no move to enter. Lu Xin ignored him, tidied his bed, and unpacked his clothes.

Having sold himself into servitude, Lu Xin was mentally prepared. Still, learning that low servants had to toil eight hours every day left him looking grim. In ancient times, an “hour” equaled two modern hours—meaning, aside from eating and sleeping, nearly the entire day was spent in labor, with no private time at all. Such a life was little better than that of livestock.

“I understand, Brother Feng. How’s the pay calculated?”

“Hahaha—just arrived and already thinking about money? Aren’t you afraid your appetite is too big? Well, the rule is fifty coins a month for low-rank servants, paid out by the accountant on the last day of the month.”

“Fifty coins? That’s not even two a day...”

“What are you thinking? Not enough for you? You ought to ask around—there are plenty in all of Yue Prefecture who’d line up for the chance to serve in the Xu household. Truth is, since you were bought at a high price, they could have denied you wages altogether. But out of special favor, the master ordered you to be treated like the other servants. And since you called me ‘Brother Feng,’ I’ll see you get an easy post—how about cleaning the latrines for a few months? Hahaha...”

With that, Feng Li strode out, laughing. Hearing he’d be scrubbing toilets, Lu Xin’s face flushed red with anger, but he could only grit his teeth—here, servants and slaves had no rights.

Though exhausted, Lu Xin couldn’t sleep. He pondered his next move. He had a roof over his head, so at least he wouldn’t end up on the streets, but ten years as a slave in the Xu household was not an option. He had to find a way to escape safely and head for Chang’an.

His greatest hope, at present, was deciphering “The Scripture of Virtuous Burial.” It was likely the very thing the monk had been searching for. If it was a manual of cultivation and he could master even a fraction of it, it might be enough to secure his escape.

“The main problem is that I’m barely literate. If I want to succeed, I must first learn the language and script of the Tang Dynasty... Wait, a household this size must have a place for teaching reading and writing. But as a low servant, I’m only allowed in the west and north wings, where surely no young masters or ladies reside. No, I must first think of a way to make money. Grandfather always said, with money, anything is possible.”

Resolving himself, Lu Xin felt his spirits lift. Even with a paltry wage of fifty coins a month, with so large a household, opportunities would present themselves to the observant. After all, coming from the twenty-first century, his wit and perspective far surpassed those of the average Tang citizen.

In his first two days at the Xu household, Lu Xin was given no tasks. Feng Li didn’t seek him out, and no one else assigned him work. Perhaps because they were all low-level servants, his roommates were at least cordial. Few words were exchanged, but there was no bullying. Lu Xin took the opportunity to explore the west and north wings and gather some information about the Xu family.

The Xu clan was one of the great families of Jiangnan, an illustrious and ancient lineage. Regardless of who sat on the throne, or how dynasties changed, this family remained fabulously wealthy. By Xu Sanjin’s time, the household employed eight to nine hundred servants and slaves; the west and north wings alone housed over five hundred.

The current Xu estate traded in tea, silk, seafood, and mining. Their silk shops spanned half the empire; the finest silks were procured by officials and presented as tribute to the court. Moreover, the family controlled nearly ninety percent of the coastal fisheries in the south. If anyone in the central plains wanted sea fish, they had to buy from the Xus. Even the seafood in Chang’an was all supplied by Xu Sanjin.

Lu Xin, a modern man from 2018, could not help but marvel at the Xu family’s wealth—it truly rivaled that of the state.

“How strange. With every change of dynasty comes chaos—arson, killing, looting, all too common. Yet the Xus have been rich and powerful since the Han, nearly a thousand years, and no one’s ever wiped them out? Clearly, luck plays a great part in this world.”

Lu Xin sat idly at his doorway, watching the estate’s only two peach trees, his mind awash with thoughts. For days, he’d been racking his brains for ways to make money, but no solution had presented itself.

“In the third month of spring, the peach blossoms are in full bloom. It should be a season of vitality, but my fate is as desolate as winter—how pathetic and lamentable... Wait, since when did my prose get this good? If I could go back now, I’d surely ace every language exam!”

Days of idleness left Lu Xin restless and frustrated. Just as he was about to get up and break off a peach branch to play with, Feng Li appeared at the corner of the corridor.

“What are you mumbling about, little one? Seeing you so lonely, my heart aches for you. Don’t worry—soon enough, you’ll have plenty of company, hahahaha…”

Laughing loudly, Feng Li strode into the courtyard and tossed a set of servant’s clothes at Lu Xin’s feet.