Chapter 79

**A New Week, Votes Please!**

Li Bai once wrote, "Departing from Baidi in the morning amidst rosy clouds, I return to Jiangling a thousand miles away in a single day," vividly depicting the exhilaration of a swift downstream journey. This was the fastest speed humans could experience in this era.

Chen Ge stood at the bow of the boat, gazing at the magnificent scenery that flashed by. Dark, rugged cliffs loomed ahead, and the boat seemed to be hurtling towards them, as if about to crash. He couldn't help but close his eyes. But when he opened them again, the cliffs were already far behind, and the boat was rushing towards another.

This thrilling experience was something he had never felt before. The monkeys high up in the trees let out long, piercing calls, and he joined in with a loud howl. Song Duanping also joined in, and their voices echoed off the cliffs, prompting the monkeys to respond, creating a continuous, resonant sound.

The passengers on the boat, weakened by seasickness, looked at the two young men with surprise, amazed by their vitality. Hearing the praise, the boat captain smiled and said, "Brave men are not called heroes yet. Wait until we reach Qutang Gorge and enter the Xiangbin Pile; if you can still be like this, then you are true heroes." It seemed they hadn't reached the true Three Gorges yet...

As the boat captain had said, the real danger began at Qutang Gorge. Before entering the gorge, the captain solemnly instructed everyone not to make any noise or show any disrespect to the gods. He then placed wine and a pig's head on the bow, burned incense devoutly, and prayed before setting off into the canyon.

Upon entering Qutang Gorge, several huge rocks emerged from the river. These rocks, known as the "Xiangbin Pile," were named for the way the surging waves crashed against the massive rocks, scattering water like the hair of a beautiful woman. These strangely named rocks created terrifying whirlpools. The boat, carried by the rapid current, moved at breakneck speed. The waves were tumultuous, and the slightest mistake could result in a collision with the rocks, causing the boat to shatter and the passengers to perish.

The lives of everyone on the boat were in the hands of the captain. With his exceptional skill and rich experience, he navigated the boat through Qutang Gorge without incident and soon entered Wuxia Gorge. Wuxia Gorge, stretching for a hundred miles, was flanked by continuous high mountains and steep cliffs, forming a turbulent waterway. On the river, one could only see a winding strip of sky. Even at noon, the sun was never visible, no matter how clear the sky.

The danger in Wuxia Gorge lay in the fog. The dense, persistent mist, like rain and fog, created a romantic and ambiguous atmosphere, which the romantic Chu people called "Wushan Clouds and Rain." However, it severely obstructed the captain's view, making the journey extremely dangerous.

Chen Ge remained calm until they reached a place called "Renxian Weng." Here, a particularly large, round rock occupied most of the waterway, making it extremely narrow and the current incredibly swift. The boat had to make a sharp turn, and the impact and tossing were like a dry leaf struggling in a whirlpool, ready to capsize at any moment, turning all the passengers into "human fresh" in the river.

Chen Ge felt dizzy and his ears rang. He clung to the cabin wall, feeling as if the world was spinning. He didn't know how the boat managed to pass through. When the turbulence eased, the cabin was covered in vomit, and he rushed out, leaning over the railing and vomiting uncontrollably.

After leaving Wuxia Gorge, they soon reached Zigui, now just a small village, making it hard to associate it with historical figures like Leizu, Qu Yuan, Wang Zhaojun, and Meng Haoran. From Zigui, they continued to Xiamabei. After Xiamabei, the view suddenly opened up, and the river flow gradually slowed. The oppressive power of nature was finally left behind.

They heard the evening fishing songs and saw seagulls soaring, with distant village smoke curling in the air.

Looking at the picturesque river scenery, the passengers knew they had survived the Three Gorges. Regardless of whether they knew each other, they all felt a sense of camaraderie after sharing this ordeal. They rewarded the captain and his apprentices with wine and silver, and toasted each other, celebrating their return to the world.

Reflecting on the day's journey, Chen Ge felt as if he had been through a nightmare. He finally understood why Sichuan could remain unscathed during times of chaos—because the journey in and out was too terrifying.

Regaining his composure, he chewed on two slices of Sichuan ginger and gave a few to Wulang, who was severely seasick. Then he walked to the stern and handed a few slices to the young monk Xuan Yu.

"Amitabha, thank you, Mr. Chen." Xuan Yu was still meditating, but he was also seasick, pale, and hadn't eaten anything. However, he refused, saying, "I am not hungry."

"These are the best Sichuan ginger slices," Chen Ge smiled. "Buddhists don't prohibit eating ginger, right?"

"Amitabha! Ginger is not one of the 'Five Pungent Herbs' and is considered a health food in Zen Buddhism." Xuan Yu said seriously, "But I follow the Twelve Vows and do not eat after noon."

Thanks to Chen Ge's increased knowledge over the years, he understood the Twelve Vows of the ascetic monks, such as "sitting but not lying" and "wearing only three robes." In this era, most wandering monks were wine and meat monks, so a monk like Xuan Yu, who strictly followed the precepts, was rare.

Because of this, Wang Fang had no choice but to entrust the difficult task of "making the little monk return to secular life" to Chen Ge. Chen Ge smiled and offered the two slices of ginger again. "This is medicine for seasickness. Eating it will help you meditate... the precepts don't say you can't take medicine after noon, right?"

"That's true..." Xuan Yu, being too innocent, accepted them with both hands. "Thank you, Mr. Chen."

"Can you change the way you address me?" Chen Ge smiled bitterly. "Your Sichuan accent makes 'Mr. Chen' sound like 'spittoon.' It doesn't bother me, but others might punch you."

"Amitabha!" Xuan Yu chanted. "What do you suggest, Mr. Chen?"

"Well..." Chen Ge thought seriously and said, "How about this: call men 'Brother' and women 'Sister' from now on."

"Amitabha," Xuan Yu clasped his hands. "I will follow Brother's advice. Thank you, Brother..."

"Sure, sure..." Chen Ge handed him a whole pack of Sichuan ginger slices and turned away, trying to suppress his laughter.

Xuan Yu took a slice of ginger, tasted it, and found it sweet and fragrant with a slight spiciness. He thought, "This medicine tastes really good..."

---

The next morning, the boat arrived at the final destination—Yueyang City in Baling. Yes, the Baling Prefecture that connects the north to Wuxia Gorge and the south to Xiaoxiang, where exiled scholars and poets often gathered.

The famous Yueyang Tower, the western gate of Baling City, was a three-story building with green tiles and a simple white wall, and a flying eave and tower roof. Even from a distance, the tower was clearly visible.

It had been eight years since Teng Zijing rebuilt the Yueyang Tower. Eight years had passed, and the tower still stood, but Teng Zijing had long since passed away in Suzhou.

Chen Ge and the others saw that the Yueyang Tower was covered in white. As they approached, they could see mourning banners and white flags, and hear mournful music. When the boat docked, they heard thunderous cries from in front of the Yueyang Tower.

As soon as the boat stopped, Song Duanping leaped onto the dock and grabbed a man with a white sash around his waist. "Excuse me, did some important official pass away?"

"That's not a local from Baling," the man shook his head. "He never even came to Baling..."

"Then who?"

"It's Lord Fan..." The man sighed. "From your appearance, you must be from Sichuan. No wonder you don't know; Lord Fan passed away last month."

"Ah..." Song Duanping was shocked. "That's impossible."

"How is it impossible? The court has already bestowed a posthumous title." The man shed a tear. "Today is the public memorial service organized by the scholars and gentry of Yuezhou. You should pay your respects too."

Song Duanping let go and looked back at the surprised Chen Ge. "How could he pass away?"

"Amitabha..." Xuan Yu clasped his hands.

"Let's go and see." Chen Ge's mood became heavy.

When they reached the base of the Yueyang Tower, they were stunned by the scene of thousands of people weeping in the square. Whether they were elderly scholars or commoners, they were kneeling before the makeshift altar, sobbing as if they had lost a parent. The cries were deafening and heart-wrenching. Even decades later, Chen Ge still vividly remembered this soul-stirring moment.

He had seen large crowds weep before, but that was for an emperor, under the pressure of authority. Now, the deceased was not an emperor or a powerful official, but a demoted official who had been exiled for nearly ten years. The people and scholars could have just paid a perfunctory tribute, but there was no reason for them to weep so bitterly...

Chen Ge stared at the scene, his gaze passing over the weeping crowd and landing on the couplet at the entrance of the Yueyang Tower. He saw the powerful, large characters:

"Before the world worries, I worry; after the world rejoices, I rejoice!"

---

In the fifth month of the fourth year of the Huangyou era of the Northern Song Dynasty, Fan Zhongyan passed away on his way to Yingzhou. Before his death, he had already become a god in the hearts of the people of the Song Dynasty, a compassionate bodhisattva who saved the suffering. After his death, the emperor mourned, the nation wept, and he was honored as the first sage of the past three hundred years, the greatest sage of the current dynasty!

However, why did such a sage of the era face constant demotions and exile in the last eight years of his life, being pushed far away from the stage that should have belonged to him?

This was something Chen Ge could not understand, no matter how much he thought about it...

---

It is regrettable that I could not save Lord Fan, for two reasons: first, the elderly man was indeed exhausted and terminally ill; second, Lord Fan's political life had ended eight years ago, and the specific reasons will be explained later...

---

<a href="