Chapter Eight: Fellow Disciples
“The morning market is quite lively,” Xu Boqing muttered as he entered the city.
Hongyang County was just a hundred li from the capital—not far at all. With his pace, even running the whole way wouldn’t take two days. The only reason he’d come to Hongyang County… was simply because he was starving!
Not only famished, but penniless as well.
Boundless energy did not mean he couldn't feel hunger. Quite the opposite: he’d had nothing to eat all day yesterday, and spent the time either digging pits or fleeing for his life. Now he was ravenous!
If he tried to dash straight to the capital without any provisions, he’d probably collapse from hunger long before he arrived.
“All my money was stolen. There’s not a single coin in my pocket—cleaner than my face. What on earth am I supposed to do?” As soon as Xu Boqing entered the city, the reality of his poverty hit him. He paused at the street corner, racking his brain for a way to fill his belly, and if he was lucky, to make a little extra money as well.
He glanced around, noting the passersby—especially some of the women, who cast him curious glances.
The body he now inhabited was quite good-looking, from a well-off family, and had been studious since childhood. He was versed in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, and had a passable grasp of poetry and literature. Though his learning was broad rather than deep, he had a cultivated air.
“All I want is a few buns. Surely I don’t have to sell myself for that?” Xu Boqing shuddered, hastily pushing away such thoughts and turning his attention to the notices posted by the city wall. More precisely, to the apricot-yellow “Recruitment for Talents” notice.
It had come from the imperial city of the capital. Its general message: the realm of Great Liang enjoyed peace and prosperity, and the emperor, renowned for his reverence of Daoist and Buddhist teachings, now issued an edict inviting talented men from all corners to the palace to pursue immortality and discuss the Dao.
“Dog of an emperor…” Xu Boqing cursed inwardly.
Back in his previous life, reading history, he’d come across emperors like this in the records. At most, he’d laugh and call them fools, feeling nothing special. He might even have thought, “If I were emperor, I’d be even more debauched—drowning in the pleasures of the harem.”
But actually living in such times, especially at the bottom of society, he now understood how infuriating it was to have a muddle-headed ruler above.
“Make way, make way… don’t block the road…”
A clamor erupted just then. Xu Boqing saw a squad of armored soldiers marching through the street and instinctively stepped aside.
At their head rode a burly man in light armor, face as swarthy as a jujube, astride a tall horse with a pair of iron halberds slung across his back. The soldiers behind him marched in two lines, apparently heading out of the city.
What struck Xu Boqing as odd was that, mixed in with the soldiers, were several men in Daoist robes and Buddhist garb—clearly the sort of wandering charlatans who roamed the land.
What was this about?
He instinctively activated his “Celestial Eye” by the roadside—not to see through those burly men (he had no such interest), but simply to test its effects and develop its abilities.
Perhaps because he was now observing people rather than scenery, this time the world appeared not only drained of color, but with some new hues added.
A faint reddish aura seemed to wreathe the soldiers, with wisps of pale blue hovering above their heads.
By contrast, the leader’s red and blue were both deeper.
What did that mean? This golden finger of his came with no manual—he’d have to figure out its uses himself. Still, it was better than a game cheat that only let you see through walls…
Xu Boqing frowned slightly, glancing at others in the street. The vendors and common folk had no unusual auras—only a faint, drifting white above their heads.
Did that mean the blue above the soldiers denoted official rank?
And ordinary folk, being commoners, were marked by white.
Then what about the red aura? Was it murderous intent?
…
“Hey, Old Liu, you’re here too. How’s business today?”
“Don’t ask. I hadn’t even set up my stall before I was dragged here. What business could there be?”
“Same here. They say there are evil spirits by the old graveyard. I’d just laid out my wares when they pulled me away—not a single coin made.”
“I didn’t even have time to pack up my stall…”
“Same for all of us…”
“Quit whining. Serving the officials is our honor, isn’t it~?”
“…”
As the group chatted, their voices faded into the distance.
Xu Boqing pondered, withdrawing from his Eye’s state—where, he realized, his senses were heightened. That was a pleasant surprise.
He’d just escaped from that graveyard yesterday and knew full well there were no evil spirits there, only a snake demon. The demon was gone now—these people would likely find nothing.
But… they’d all left their stalls unattended…
A thought struck him—the perfect chance to get himself a meal, and perhaps even earn a bit on the side.
Circling the morning market, he soon spotted an unmanned fortune-telling stall. Yet he didn’t rush over; instead, he took another lap.
He sidled up to an old man selling vegetables by the roadside and asked, “Sir, is there a fortune-teller named Liu Laogen in Hongyang City?”
“Liu what?”
“Liu Laogen.”
“What Laogen?”
“…”
Xu Boqing’s cheek twitched, feeling as if he were living in someone else’s shadow. He took a deep breath and clarified, “Sir, it’s Liu Laogen—the fortune-teller.”
“Oh!” The old man’s face lit up with understanding. “You mean that old fortune-teller Liu?”
“Yes, that’s him.”
“Are you here to have your fortune told?”
“No, no, I’m not looking for a reading.” Xu Boqing smiled. “I’m his junior apprentice, sent by our master to find him.”
“Huh? Junior apprentice?” The old man looked confused, clearly unsure what that relationship meant.
“Means we studied under the same teacher.”
“Oh, why didn’t you say so.” The vegetable seller muttered, looking Xu Boqing up and down. The young man’s attire and bearing were anything but common, so the old man half believed him. “Old Liu was taken away by the yamen runners. He won’t be back until noon, I reckon.”
“Thank you, elder.” Xu Boqing smiled, then asked, “Do you know where my senior’s stall is? I’ll wait for him there.”
The old man pointed to a corner up ahead. “Turn there, it’s on the next street. I saw him set up this morning.”
“Thank you kindly. Wishing you brisk business.” Xu Boqing bowed and took his leave.
The old man mused at how pleasant scholars’ words sounded, and as soon as Xu Boqing was out of earshot, began chatting with fellow vendors:
“Old Xu, did you know that old Liu the fortune-teller over on East Street actually has…”
“Old Zhao, did you hear? Liu the fortune-teller’s junior apprentice is really handsome and speaks so well.”
“Hey, Old Li, guess what…”
…
Within moments, word had spread through the street market that Old Liu had a junior apprentice.
Which was exactly what Xu Boqing wanted. He was new to the city, a stranger here, and if he’d simply taken over someone else’s stall, the neighbors would have thought him a thief.
But with the bond of “fellow disciples,” he could legitimately use the stall, and anyone seeking a reading would know he and Old Liu shared a teacher.
And as for when Old Liu returned? He’d just earn enough for a meal and slip away—why bother with what came after?