Chapter 32: Life Is Full of Unexpected Encounters

After a night’s rest, at dawn the next day, Zhang Chi bid farewell to Miss Wang, left the academy, and rode Baixue out of the city. In truth, the chaos engulfing the world had little to do with him—a man who had traveled here from a thousand years in the future. Whether this world was torn by war or basked in peace, what did it matter to him?

Anyone who has lived abroad knows the feeling of rootlessness, let alone one who has crossed through time. Yet, after meeting Miss Wang these past days, Zhang Chi had undergone subtle changes deep within. Now, he truly hoped the fate of the realm might turn out as she wished. After all, in times of strife, it is always the common folk who suffer most.

Thinking of Miss Wang, her image immediately rose in his heart—a peerless beauty, unmatched in wisdom, yet carrying the burdens of the Xie clan and the world upon her shoulders. A woman navigating the shifting powers of the land—is it sympathy, pity, or admiration that he feels for her? Even Zhang Chi himself could scarcely say.

Lost in such thoughts, he rode northward out of Jiankang. Baixue’s gait was smooth and unhurried, needing no guidance from him, but suddenly the horse stopped. Though preoccupied, Zhang Chi felt it immediately. Why had they halted? He looked up in surprise to see they had arrived at a fork in the road—a crossroads, with two paths diverging left and right. Baixue, it seemed, did not know which way to go.

Even before his journey through time, Zhang Chi had no sense of direction in the city. Now, in an unfamiliar era with no road signs, he could only vaguely guess north and south by the sun. When faced with two branching roads, he was at a loss.

“Is there trouble weighing on your mind, young master? Why not let me divine your fortune and dispel your doubts?” Turning his head, Zhang Chi saw another rider at the roadside. It was the same eccentric old Daoist he had met yesterday—the master of the Heavenly Secrets Sect, Zhan Taiqi.

“Truly, there is no place in life where one does not meet a familiar face. But why is it always you?” Zhang Chi could not help but remark.

The old Daoist stroked his beard and laughed heartily. “No place in life where one does not meet a familiar face—how apt! No wonder they say you are unmatched in poetry and wine. Your reputation is well deserved.”

Zhang Chi felt a pang of embarrassment, knowing he merely quoted famous lines from later ages, and did not wish to pursue the topic further. Instead, he asked, “The entire city of Jiankang is under martial law. How did you manage to get out, Daoist?”

“Why should you be able to leave, but I not?” The Daoist shook his head with a smug air. “Young master, don’t forget I am master of the Heavenly Secrets Sect. If I can read the secrets of Heaven, what’s slipping out a mere city gate to me?”

Zhang Chi nodded reflexively, then realized his own predicament. “Since you can divine the secrets of Heaven, perhaps you could tell me which road to take—left or right?”

The old Daoist twirled his beard, adopting a mysterious tone. “You must be cautious, young master. Of these two roads, one leads to certain death.”

“Oh?” The Daoist meant to warn Zhang Chi of lurking dangers ahead, but seeing the old man’s comical manner, Zhang Chi could not feel the appropriate caution. “If one is a road of death, then the other must lead to life.”

“To survive, you must seek life amidst death. One misstep and you’ll leave your bones behind.” The Daoist smiled, his manner unhurried.

Zhang Chi eyed the charlatan, then the forked road ahead. Since he was lost anyway, he might as well hear what the old man had to say. “Then tell me, Daoist— which is the road of death, and which is the road of life?”

The Daoist pointed left. “This way leads to death.”

If the left was death, then right must be life. Zhang Chi was about to urge Baixue forward when the Daoist cried, “No, no.” He pointed to the right. “That way is the road of death.”

Zhang Chi looked at the Daoist in confusion and turned his horse, but as he was about to set off, the Daoist said again, “Still not right, it’s the left after all that leads to death.”

“Are you just toying with me now?” Zhang Chi asked, thoroughly exasperated by the old man’s endless talk of death.

The Daoist grinned. “No need to blame me for uncertainty. These roads are riddled with both life and death, shrouded in mist and illusion. Why not let me accompany you, young master? Whichever road I choose with you, that will surely be the road of life.”

Zhang Chi, no longer as naive as when he first arrived in this world, frowned and pondered, his face as cartoonishly contorted as an animated character. “Are you plotting something against me?”

“What could you possibly have that I would covet?” the Daoist countered.

True enough, Zhang Chi thought, and said, “Then I’ll trouble you to accompany me. Which way—left?”

“If you say left, then left it is,” the Daoist replied and set off ahead.

Zhang Chi caught up, asking, “Really, we’re taking the left and not the right?”

“Then let’s go right instead,” the Daoist said with a laugh.

“No, no need. I was just saying. Let’s go left,” Zhang Chi replied hastily.

...

They traveled together in silence for a while before reaching the encampment of Du Ximing and the others. Zhang Chi had been on edge the whole way, expecting deadly peril as the Daoist had warned, but their journey proved uneventful.

Before they reached the camp, a soldier had already run ahead to announce their arrival, and the group came out to welcome them. Santong, ever the outspoken one, laughed from afar. “I knew you were blessed, Zhang, and would never die so easily!”

“Easy to say now,” Dao Xuan retorted with disdain. “Wasn’t it you who insisted on going back to look for Zhang back then?”

Dao Xuan always had a knack for cutting Santong down to size; one remark from him and Santong fell quiet.

“Brother Zhang, you really did come! When we couldn’t find you, Miss Wang sent word that if we camped thirty li north of the city, you’d come to us in a few days. We didn’t believe it and wanted to go search for you, but here you are after all.”

Santong chimed in, “Miss Wang really is a prophet. I doubted her, but you’re here safe and sound, and I’m convinced.”

Zhang Chi was moved—having such loyal brothers made his journey through time worthwhile.

He introduced the old Daoist, Zhan Taiqi, to the group, and they all returned to the command tent, chatting and laughing. As soon as they were seated, Ding Yizhi said with a smile, “Miss Wang told us to camp near the Yangtze crossing north of Jiankang, and then for you to find us here. I suspect she has other plans for us as well, doesn’t she, brother?”

As expected, his cousin saw through everything. Zhang Chi nodded. “Now that Wang Gong has raised the Northern Army to attack Jiankang, he’s sent Gao Yazhi ahead with eight thousand light cavalry. They should be near the Yangtze by now. Miss Wang had us camp here to await my arrival and then go meet them in battle.”

Du Ximing drew a sharp breath. “The Northern Army is famed for its valor—the best in the realm. And they’re cavalry, with more men than we have. We have five thousand, mostly infantry. If it comes to battle, I fear we’ll lose.”

The Northern Army’s reputation was legendary; at the Battle of Fei River, they had repelled Fu Jian’s million-strong force and stunned the world. No wonder Du Ximing was cautious. In ancient times, morale was everything, and a general could not afford to show fear. Even when surrounded by General Canghuai’s army, Du Ximing had never spoken a fearful word, but the Northern Army’s reputation made him wary.

“Why not ask Miss Wang to send us more troops?” Santong blurted out.

Ding Yizhi smiled slightly. “The city is under strict lockdown. All the old Xie clan troops are in the city, and the new army is stationed outside. If I’m right, Miss Wang is planning a coup. The old Xie troops are few, and these are desperate times. Pulling more troops would be near impossible.”

“A coup? Why would she do that?” Santong exclaimed.

“When both border lords rise in rebellion and the court can’t unite, how can they win? Wang Xun, lacking real power, has long had other ambitions and colludes with Huan Xuan to turn Wang Gong against the court, hoping for chaos. If I were Miss Wang, in these circumstances, to quell the rebellion, I’d first kill Wang Xun and Sima Daozi, then, in the emperor’s name, raise an army to restore order. With no rivals, with her ability, she’d keep the realm in check. That’s why she has deployed Xie clan troops to control Jiankang and locked all other forces outside.”

Had Zhang Chi not known his cousin’s hidden depths, he would have been astonished—Ding Yizhi’s speculation matched Miss Wang’s own plans exactly.

Santong cared little for these court intrigues—he knew no one in power, and the realm was already a mess under their rule. He simply followed Zhang Chi—whomever Zhang Chi fought, he would fight. Still, he was curious, “If Miss Wang keeps her loyalists in Jiankang and everyone else outside, why are we outside too?”

“And whose troops do you command?” Ding Yizhi asked calmly.

Santong answered, “Zhang is our adjutant, the highest rank, so these are his troops, of course.”

“And where did these men come from?” Ding Yizhi pressed.

Santong started to reply, then paused—the men, of course, weren’t conjured from thin air, but were new army troops, formerly under General Canghuai.

“I see!” Santong slapped his thigh in realization. “Miss Wang really is clever—using borrowed troops to fight the enemy, what foresight!”

Everything in the realm was already within Miss Wang’s grasp. A woman like her was truly extraordinary; at the time, her actions could seem mysterious, but in retrospect, each move was brilliantly calculated.

“So with only these few men, how are we to fight the Northern Army? Do you have a plan, brother?” Dao Xuan asked.

Zhang Chi replied, “Actually, Miss Wang does not wish us to truly engage. We’re just to put on a show. These eight thousand cavalry are rushing to Jiankang only because Wang Xun is their agent inside the city. But the city is locked down—he can’t send messages. Eight thousand cavalry can’t storm the city, so in a few days, they’ll have to withdraw. That’ll be our unearned victory.”

Everyone knew Miss Wang wanted to promote Zhang Chi. Hearing this, Du Ximing analyzed, “If it’s just for show, holding fast by the river is pointless. Why not, in the name of suppressing bandits, advance to confront them but avoid battle? When they withdraw, we can claim they retreated before your might.”

Shameless as it was, it was a sound plan. Zhang Chi decided, “Good. Let’s do that. We’ll cross the river at once to meet them.”