Volume One: Youths Meet in Their Humble Days Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Zhou of Zhou Ce, the Ce of Zhou Ce

The three of them walked on in search of Zhou Ce, and when they reached the central square, Li Yu gazed at the enormous stone stele before them, awed by its towering and ancient presence.

The stele stood nearly a hundred fathoms tall, its surface smooth, the body black as ink. Its face was uneven, marked with hollows and dents, though their details were indistinct. The base was square and solid, exuding a sense of gravity, and upon it were carvings—images resembling ancient totems or perhaps depictions of some forgotten history, though none could discern their meaning.

Li Yu stopped before the stele, his steps arrested, unable to tear himself away.

Shen Xun and Shen Tang, seeing Li Yu motionless, were puzzled. “Little Fish, what’s the matter?” Shen Xun asked.

Li Yu replied, “Brother, do you know the origin of this stone stele?”

Shen Xun shook his head. “I don't know either. My parents told me it’s the Pillar of Heaven for Tianmen Town. As long as this stele stands, Tianmen Town will remain unshaken, invincible.”

Li Yu pressed further, “Does anyone know what the carvings on it mean?”

“You see them as images too? I thought so myself, but others disagree. They say I’m bewitched, mistaking ordinary scratches for drawings or writing,” Shen Xun said, feeling he’d found a kindred spirit.

Shen Tang, unable to hold back any longer, interjected, “Why don’t you ask me? Maybe I know!”

Shen Xun laughed. “You’re just a little girl—how could you know what even our parents don’t?”

Shen Tang, indignant, retorted, “Who says I don’t know? I heard Zhou Ce’s classmates say that the carvings recount a past—perhaps the origin of Tianmen Town.”

Shen Xun was skeptical. “Is that true? How come you never mentioned it?”

Shen Tang, unwilling to engage, said, “You never asked, so why would I tell you?”

Li Yu turned to Shen Tang, uncertain, “Sister, you said these carvings tell the story of Tianmen Town’s origin?”

Shen Tang softened toward Li Yu, nodding gently. “Yes, I heard it with my own ears.”

Shen Xun asked, “Who did they hear it from?”

“How should I know? I only heard that much while looking for Zhou Ce. I didn’t linger—I left after hearing that snippet.”

Now Shen Xun found himself genuinely curious, and asked Shen Tang, “Do you remember who was talking about it?”

Originally, Shen Tang didn’t want to answer, but seeing Li Yu’s shining eyes beside her, she relented. “I only recall Wang Feiyu from the Wang family, Zhang Boqian from the Zhangs, and a student brought by your new teacher. The rest I don’t remember.”

Shen Xun explained, “Wang Feiyu and Zhang Boqian both come from major families in Tianmen Town. Wang Feiyu is the youngest son of the Wangs, Zhang Boqian is the second son of the Zhangs. They often play together, much like the five bullies you met yesterday, but they’re more aloof and rarely pay us any mind. As for the new student, his name is Wu Tong. That’s all I know.”

Li Yu asked, “Sister, do you recall who started the conversation about the stele?”

Shen Tang was puzzled by his question, but Shen Xun immediately understood Li Yu’s intent. He asked Li Yu, “Do you think you’re overthinking?”

Li Yu shook his head, uncertain. “I’m not sure, but my intuition tells me that since they were discussing the stele together, perhaps there’s something about it that we don’t know.”

Shen Xun looked at Li Yu, marveling at how this boy, shorter than himself, could have such thoughts. He recalled last night’s conversation with Shen Tang, and suddenly believed that what Shen Tang spoke of was not fiction. Before him, Li Yu truly possessed the temperament and capability to do what these children could not.

Yet he felt no fear toward Li Yu—perhaps it was the same inexplicable trust and comfort that Shen Tang felt upon meeting him.

The three did not dwell on the topic further. Before leaving, Li Yu took one last, lingering look at the stele, then followed the others away from the central square.

After walking for nearly half an hour, they stopped before a small courtyard. Before they entered, they heard voices inside: “Zhou Ce, it’s settled then. If you have any news, remember to tell us.”

The youth named Zhou Ce replied, “Understood. I’ll inform you if anything comes up.”

He escorted them to the gate, just as Shen Xun and his companions arrived. The two groups faced each other, unmoving, and Li Yu, observant, sensed there might be matters he was unaware of. He tugged gently at Shen Xun’s sleeve, warning him not to stir up conflict.

Shen Xun understood, patting Li Yu’s hand in reassurance. He smiled, “Young Master Wang is here as well. I came to see Zhou Ce—didn’t expect to find you here. Is my timing unfortunate?”

Zhou Ce hurried to reply, “Not at all. We’ve finished our discussion and I was just seeing them out.”

It turned out that the people in Zhou Ce’s courtyard were the very Wang Feiyu, Zhang Boqian, and Wu Tong they had just spoken of. Li Yu thought to himself that one should never speak ill of others behind their backs.

Wang Feiyu, seeing both sides offering polite words, smiled. “We’ve wrapped up our talk. Zhou, don’t forget what we discussed.” He paused, then added in a voice meant to sound soft but clear enough for all to hear, “Besides, not everyone is qualified to know certain things.”

Shen Xun and Li Yu showed no reaction, but Shen Tang, dissatisfied, strode forward, hands on her hips, and declared loudly, “What’s so special to know? Who are you looking down on? If you want to whisper secrets, make your voice truly quiet. This odd behavior—who’s it for?”

Li Yu had never seen Shen Tang so spirited and found it rather amusing.

One of Wang Feiyu’s companions responded, “The sages once said, ‘Stars shine brightly, but not as the moon’s gentle glow.’ We are born different; naturally, not everything is meant for you to know.”

Had Shen Xun been alone, he might have endured it, but with his siblings behind him, he could not tolerate such disparagement. “Master Wu, you are mistaken. The sages taught, ‘How are we different from others? Yao and Shun were just like everyone else.’ The teachings also say, ‘Do not belittle yourself, do not abandon yourself; saints and sages can be emulated.’ Ordinary people, through effort, can reach the heights of sages. How can you claim to stand equal to the sages now?”

Wang Feiyu retorted, “Young Master Shen, you make a fine point, but we’re not talking about future accomplishments. At present, Wu is correct—we are indeed different. What’s your objection?”

The words cut deep; even though the Shen siblings never felt inferior, to be so openly judged and declared lesser left them unable to refute, whether from youthful pride or the desire to preserve their family’s dignity.

Seeing Shen Tang on the verge of tears and Shen Xun’s face pale with anger, while the three on the other side basked in satisfaction—save for Zhou Ce, who was visibly awkward—Li Yu felt little goodwill toward them. He stepped forward and said, “I haven’t learned great philosophies, but my grandmother always told me: sheep eat grass, wolves eat sheep, but can you truly say wolves are above sheep or grass? Not so. Without grass or sheep, if only wolves remained, do you think they could survive? So we are not so different. Even if we seem less noble now, without the common folk, what would you be?”

Everyone found his reasoning unique; upon reflection, it even held a certain charm. Shen Tang looked at the three with pride and disdain. Shen Xun’s estimation of Li Yu rose even higher, thinking that if Li Yu attended the academy, he would make an excellent scholar.

But Wang Feiyu and his companions would never admit defeat and sought to argue further when Zhou Ce interjected, “Enough, it’s rare to have a day off. If you want to debate, find somewhere else—not my home. I have things to do.”

Thus, Wang Feiyu’s group had to concede. “True, we won’t quibble with unlettered children. Zhou, we’ll take our leave—see you at the academy.”

After bidding Zhou Ce farewell, they passed by Li Yu and his companions. Zhang Boqian, as he passed Li Yu, asked, “Are you the child brought from outside by Daoist Lin?”

Li Yu was about to answer when Shen Tang spoke up first, “So what if he is? Move along; my brother doesn’t wish to speak with you.”

Li Yu, seeing Shen Tang had handled it, felt no need to engage further. He simply glanced at Zhang Boqian, and when those gray eyes met his, Zhang felt a tremor in his heart. This boy looked simple, but perhaps was not so ordinary.

Once the three had left, Zhou Ce hurried over, complaining, “Why didn’t you arrive sooner? If you had, I wouldn’t have had to waste so much time dealing with them.”

Shen Xun replied, “We were delayed at the central square, so we’re late.” He then introduced Li Yu, “This is the child Uncle Lin brought, Li Yu, who is now our younger brother.”

Zhou Ce sized up Li Yu, smiling. “He doesn’t resemble Daoist Lin in other ways, but his mouth is just as sharp—it could kill with words.”

Then he turned to Li Yu and introduced himself, “Hello, I’m Zhou Ce.”