Chapter 1

On the second day of the second month, the dragon lifts its head.

As the orioles flew and the grass grew long, and the swallows chirped, Chen Yuan was just coming of age.

Chen Yuan, whose courtesy name was "Daoyuan," was the third son in the family, and was therefore known as "Chen Sanlang."

Chen Sanlang had been attending a private school since childhood. He was gifted, could read extensively, and had a fine hand in writing. However, he failed the child examination three times in a row, unable to even qualify for further education, let alone the imperial examinations.

Those who knew the inside story understood that whenever he entered the examination hall, Chen Sanlang would become extremely nervous, his body trembling uncontrollably, sometimes to the point where he could not even hold his pen steady. Such a performance in the exam hall was bound to fail.

This was known as "stage fright."

Due to this hidden ailment, he had seen countless doctors and taken numerous herbal remedies, but to no avail. He was fine in everyday life, but once in the examination hall, he would tremble and perform poorly.

The old teacher Mr. Yang of the private school sighed sadly, "This boy has no future."

Chen Sanlang, however, was persistent. Unable to advance in his studies, he refused to give up and continued to attend the private school, standing out among the young children.

This became a laughing matter in Jing County.

However, a scholar like Chen Sanlang, who could not carry a load or even slaughter a chicken without fainting, had no other path in life except to read. Fortunately, his family was well-off, and he did not need to worry about making a living.

Today, the spring breeze blew through Jing County, and the sun was bright. By dusk, the private school had dismissed, and Chen Sanlang, carrying his book basket, walked home.

Jing County was a small town with only a few streets. From the private school to his home, it was just one street away, a ten-minute walk.

"Fresh fish for sale, fresh and lively fish!"

A voice called out.

Chen Sanlang paused, stopping in front of the fish vendor's stall.

Two bamboo baskets, wide at the bottom and narrow at the top, were coated with oil to prevent water from leaking. Each contained over a dozen fish, swimming about.

"Excuse me, sir, how much are these fish?"

He asked politely.

The fish vendor, who recognized Chen Sanlang, smiled and said, "I sell them to others for twenty coins each, but for you, Sanlang, I'll make it fifteen coins."

This was a lie; the normal market price was only ten coins per fish.

Chen Sanlang, who rarely bought vegetables himself, did not know the market price and thought he was getting a good deal. He bowed and said, "Thank you, sir. I'll take two."

"Sure thing."

The fish vendor skillfully reached into the basket, picked out two fish, and threaded their gills with a thin piece of grass.

These two fish were the smallest in the basket. One of them, with a bright red body, was a red carp, only two fingers wide and not even three ounces in weight.

Chen Sanlang, unaware of the vendor's trickery, counted out a string of copper coins, then picked up the fish and walked home.

The fish, with its gills pierced, was still alive, its tail thrashing wildly, struggling to escape its fate.

Chen Sanlang lifted the fish to his eye level, and just as he did, he met the gaze of the red carp. He noticed that the fish's eyes were unusually lively, and for a moment, a clear drop of water seemed to flow from its eyes.

The red carp appeared to be shedding tears.

The tears fell to the ground, silent but touching, evoking a sense of compassion.

Chen Sanlang was momentarily stunned, looking at the struggling fish. He had a strange feeling that this was not just a fish but a pitiful person, pleading for life.

"Better to err on the side of mercy than to punish the innocent; the virtue of cherishing life resonates with the people..."

The words of the sages suddenly echoed in his mind.

He changed his course, not heading home, but to a river called "Jing River" that ran through the city.

The river, like a green jade belt, wound around Jing County. The riverbanks were lined with weeping willows. In the spring, the willow branches sprouted tender green leaves, a delightful sight.

A stone arch bridge, named "Wanqing Bridge," spanned the river from north to south. The bridge, made of large stones, was covered in green moss, giving it an ancient and weathered appearance.

Under Wanqing Bridge, Chen Sanlang gently removed the grass from the fish's gills and placed it in the water.

The fish, once free, swam away quickly and disappeared.

Standing by the river, Chen Sanlang sighed and was about to leave.

Suddenly, a wind rose, and the river's surface began to ripple, which was quite unusual.

Curious, Chen Sanlang peered out and saw a striking red flash in the waves. A red carp broke through the waves, reaching the riverbank, just a few inches away from him.

The red carp suddenly opened its mouth and spat out an object, which landed at Chen Sanlang's feet, startling him.

What was happening?

After spitting out the object, the red carp stood upright in the water, its small head nodding repeatedly. Its pectoral fins moved as if it were bowing, a lively and endearing gesture.

Chen Sanlang, eyes wide with shock, fell to the ground, stunned.

How strange!

He had read countless books but never encountered such a bizarre event.

Soon, the red carp flicked its tail and dove into the water. The surface of the river was left with only ripples, no sign of anything unusual.

After a while, Chen Sanlang regained his senses and looked at the object the red carp had brought.

It was black, about three inches long, and slender, resembling a large sewing needle.

He bent down to pick it up, but it was so heavy that he almost dropped it.

This object was unexpectedly heavy, beyond his imagination.

Upon closer inspection, he realized it was shaped like a miniature sword. Unfortunately, it was completely rusted, and the hilt and blade were indistinguishable, with no sharp edge.

"Ouch!"

As he touched the tip, he accidentally pricked his finger, causing a drop of blood to fall.

The blood was instantly absorbed by the tip of the sword.

The pain shot through his finger, and Chen Sanlang cried out. He felt the blood continue to flow, being absorbed by the small sword. Panicked and helpless, he gradually became dizzy and fainted on the ground.

He had a strange dream—

In the dream, another version of himself was in a bizarre, colorful new world. This world was filled with unimaginable things: fast-moving iron objects with four wheels, countless people, and towering buildings that stretched to the sky... The sheer density was suffocating. Standing in it, he could not tell which direction was which.

Images flashed by, like a river flowing backward, showing the progression of history: the Spring and Autumn period, the Warring States, the Qin, Han, Tang, Song, and Ming dynasties... Ancient articles, poetry, and songs...

So much, so unheard of.

The long dream felt like a lifetime.

After an unknown amount of time, a pain jolted him awake. He groaned and slowly opened his eyes. He immediately recognized that he was lying in his own room.

"Yuan, you're awake?"

A concerned voice, trembling, and a tense face appeared before him, with furrowed brows and wrinkles at the corners of the eyes, indicating her age.

Chen Wangshi, Chen Yuan's mother.

Since the early death of Chen Yuan's father and the marriage of his two sisters, Chen Yuan had lived with his mother.

Chen's mother had Chen Yuan in her late thirties and doted on her son. However, as she approached her sixties, her greatest worry was what would happen to her son, who was still like a child, after she was gone. Could he maintain their modest family fortune?

"I need to arrange his marriage soon, even though the Liu family is asking for an exorbitant dowry. If Yuan can settle down and become a responsible person after marriage, even if he fails in his studies, he can learn to manage the family business. That would be good."

This thought brought her some comfort.

Chen Sanlang's eyes were a bit unfocused, and he asked, "Mother, how did I get home?"

"Yuan, I waited for you at home for a long time and became worried. I went out to look for you. Fortunately, I found you under Wanqing Bridge. You were unconscious on the ground, which scared me. I quickly had someone help carry you home... I was just thinking about calling a doctor..."

Chen Wangshi refrained from asking why he was there, as she could guess. Her son probably saw the beautiful sunset and the rippling river and went to the riverbank to enjoy the scenery and recite poetry. The reason for his fainting was a bit mysterious, but as long as he was fine, it was all right.

Chen Sanlang asked suspiciously, "When you found me, did you see any blood?"

Chen Wangshi was startled: "Blood? No, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Chen Sanlang evaded the question, paused, and said, "Mother, today is your fifty-ninth birthday. I bought two fish in the market, but they were lost on the way..."

Chen Wangshi felt a warm feeling in her heart. Her son, who had no life experience, had the filial heart to buy fish for her. She feared that the slick vendors had taken advantage of him, tricking him and cheating him out of money.

As for the "lost fish," it was easy to imagine: they might have slipped out of his hands or been eaten by cats or dogs on the way.

Regardless, the fact that her son remembered her birthday was enough. She quickly said, "It's fine, if they're gone, they're gone... You've been unconscious for a long time, you must be hungry. I'll heat up the food and bring it to you."

After she left, Chen Sanlang propped up his pillow, half-lying in bed, and extended his right hand, unclenching his fist. In his palm lay the miniature sword. Compared to its initial rusty and dull state, it now emitted a faint cold light, perhaps due to the absorption of his blood.

"Scholarly heart nourishes the sword, liver and gallbladder moisten the pen..."

He muttered the mysterious words he should not have known—those thousand-odd characters of the "Hao Ran Silk Scroll" appeared in his mind along with the dream, deeply rooted.

After the bizarre dream, his body was the same, but his spirit had changed, as if he had undergone a sudden enlightenment, seeing the world clearly, no longer the muddled person he once was.

He took a deep breath, struggled to pull back the covers, and got up.

His body, weakened by the loss of blood to the sword, was very weak. He barely managed to stand, feeling dizzy and disoriented.

After a while, he dared to take a step and walk over to the window, which his mother had closed.

The cool evening breeze refreshed him. Looking up at the crescent moon and the faint stars, he smiled, "A dream of twenty years, the clouds part to reveal the moon. Today, I finally know who I am."

Behind him, Chen Wangshi called out anxiously, "Yuan, you just woke up, why are you opening the window to the wind? Quickly, get back to bed."