Entering the Profound by Flowing with the Current

Li Mo was dozing with his eyes half-closed when he suddenly heard the door being pushed open. He jerked awake to see that the newcomer was an old man of about his own age. However, the man stood straight and tall, looking remarkably robust and vigorous—something Li Mo could never hope to match with his own frail bones. The man also possessed an extraordinary aura, suggesting he had most likely been an immensely powerful high-ranking official in the past. As for what crime he had committed, Li Mo was leaving soon anyway, so he decided not to ask too much and avoid being a nuisance.

Fan Tang glanced over as the old man resumed reviewing the memorials. Li Mo got up to brief the new arrival on the administrative duties: where to fetch the documents, where to deliver them afterwards, and an overview of how to process the main contents of the paperwork. Yet, despite Li Mo rattling off a long string of instructions, the old man seemed to pay him no attention at all. Assuming the newcomer was just like those arrogant fellows nearby who still clung to their bureaucratic tempers, Li Mo felt a pang of pity for Fan Tang, knowing the younger man was about to be saddled with such a haughty and supercilious personality.

Having finished the handover, Li Mo thought for a moment and said to Fan Tang, "Under the pear tree in my courtyard, I buried a jar of aged yellow wine. After I leave, dig it up and share it with him. Since we were brought together by fate, try to get along well with people and harbor no prejudices."

Fan Tang nodded. Realizing he had nothing more to say, Li Mo hoisted a bulky bundle onto his back and staggered out the door. Fan Tang followed him outside, watching as a eunuch escorted him away, and only turned back when Li Mo was completely out of sight.

Stepping back into the room, Fan Tang looked at the old man, who was even more robustly built than himself, and figured the fellow must have been a military general in his youth. Yet, true experts were always practitioners of Qi. Fan Tang considered himself to have the strength of a minor second rank and wielded a long halberd; he believed very few in the military camp could best him in combat, so he didn't hold the old man in particularly high regard. Meanwhile, the old man paid no attention to the dark, stout fellow either, calmly taking the seat Li Mo had just vacated. He picked up the brush, dipped it in ink, and began to write. A soft, rustling sound filled the air, occasionally pausing and resuming, as if he were thoroughly familiar with handling such memorials. Fan Tang sat back down as well, his brush hovering just above the paper before he set it aside.

Figuring he wasn't yet familiar with the old man, Fan Tang refrained from the casual tone he had used with Li Mo. Out of kindness, he offered, "Old sir, since you've just arrived, you might not yet know how to draft the comments on these memorials. There's no need to feel embarrassed—just bring them over and ask me. Everyone here is guilty of a capital offense, so no one looks down on anyone else. The Emperor has kept us alive, which shows we are still useful men. We don't know how long we'll be working together, so don't keep everything bottled up. If you need anything, just let me know."

Seeing that the old man still made not a sound, Fan Tang assumed the old fellow was simply too proud and, at his advanced age, felt too embarrassed to ask a junior like him for help. He proactively walked over to inspect the old man's drafting.

Not looking was fine, but a glance left him utterly astonished. The old man picked up the memorials, merely swept his eyes over them, and immediately put brush to paper. He offered clear and decisive solutions to matters of state, and answered every minor detail in the booklets with effortless fluency and flawless execution. He hesitated not at all over the documents sent by the various ministries, leaving Fan Tang—who had labored here for several years—wide-eyed with shock.

In bewilderment, Fan Tang blurted out, "Old sir, judging by your physique, I took you for a military officer. I never expected you to be so adept at reviewing memorials. You must have been a capable official in the past. I just wonder what kind of crime a man like you could have committed to be banished to this place."

The old man glanced at him sideways and continued reviewing the documents. Believing he had spoken out of turn and shouldn't have asked such a sensitive question right upon the old man's arrival, Fan Tang hurriedly explained, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked about that. But since you don't wish to speak of it, let me tell you why I came to be here. It's been about six years, I think. Back then, I was a centurion stationed at a border town, in command of several dozen men—a minor official with some authority. Although those seventeen years saw no major wars, minor frictions between the two nations were inevitable. Whenever fighting broke out, I, Fan Tang, never held back; I always charged ahead of my brothers and was quickly promoted to a company commander. Truth be told, there weren't any major campaigns, so my military achievements were earned entirely through my own desperate efforts. Otherwise, I surely would have risen to command ten thousand men long ago.

"Unfortunately, good times don't last. Just after I was promoted to a senior military rank, while on patrol in a small town one day, I ran across a young scion from a prominent family forcefully seizing a maiden. With a single strike of my halberd, I knocked the fellow flat, seized him, and dragged him off to the yamen. I expected that even if he escaped death, he would at least receive a severe flogging. But later on, I heard that not only did he go unpunished, but he even tracked the poor girl down and subjected her to abuse until she died. I was furious, but I held my tongue, figuring that this time he surely couldn't escape the executioner's block.

"As expected, my investigation revealed that to ingratiate himself with that noble family, the local magistrate had not only secretly released the culprit and found a scapegoat, but had even orchestrated obstacles to ruin me. Just like that, the rank I had traded my life for was stripped away. In a moment of hot-headed fury, without caring about the consequences, I stabbed everyone involved in the matter. And that's how I ended up here. My life was spared, but who knows when I'll ever get out. Ah, looking back, I was just young and reckless then. If I had to do it all over again... Hah, if I had to do it all over again, I'd probably still kill him. I don't care about advancing in rank; I only ask to follow my own heart."

Having poured out a long tale of his past in one breath, Fan Tang stood there in a daze. Suddenly, the old man sitting right beside him picked up a booklet and struck him on the head. Regaining his senses just as he was about to lean back to dodge, Fan Tang felt the old man deliver a direct palm strike to his chest. Instantly, a mighty surge of vital energy entered his body. The next moment, tumbling backward with the momentum, he rolled over completely, his round, bulky body spinning as smoothly as a ball.

Dusting himself off, Fan Tang stared in disbelief at the newly arrived old man. The old man remained as steady as Mount Tai, his expression entirely unchanged after delivering the blow. At last, he spoke to Fan Tang: "Since you have no regrets, why remain stagnant?"

It was as if the old man's palm strike had jarred Fan Tang's dizzy mind wide awake. Instantly, an eruption of Qi surged from within outward, bubbling up bit by bit. Feeling a wave of intense heat, he bolted outside and began to roar and flail wildly in the courtyard, smashing several piled boulders into smithereens. After more than an hour, the dark, stout fellow finally calmed down. The others in the room watched in utter astonishment, never imagining that this fat man could possess such ferocious vigor. Only the old man who had offered the guidance remained impassive, wearing a faint smile as he calmly resumed writing his official comments.

Fan Tang's movements gradually slowed. Once he had vented all his physical strength, he sat down on the ground, panting heavily. The grievances of the past few years seemed to dissipate entirely in that single moment. However, the weather was chilly, and the sweat that had just broken out was quickly dried by the wind. Only after resting sufficiently did the dark, stout fellow return indoors, seat himself, and look at the old man with a mixture of awe and curiosity, wondering what senior expert had ended up here.

With a respectful smile, Fan Tang said, "Thank you for your guidance, old sir. Without that palm strike of yours, I don't know how much longer it would have taken me to break through my realm and enter the mysterious stage. I, Fan Tang, will forever engrave your great kindness in my heart. Whatever you need, as long as it's not unreasonable, just give the word. By the way, I still don't know your name?"

In a gentle voice, the old man replied, "Xiao Chen."