Chapter 21: Meeting the Scions of Nobility Again

Three days later, the sky was clear and cloudless. The air was filled with the scent of melting snow, a damp chill that bit into the hands and feet and discouraged venturing outdoors. Yet, the breath of spring had already arrived; the new buds of the ailanthus trees pushed through the remaining snow on the branches, blooming like sea foam. From the moist earth came the occasional crisp sound of seeds cracking their shells, and in the mountain wilds that had previously been blanketed in white, the figures of foxes and hares began to reappear.

The Luo River had begun to thaw, causing white mists to shroud its surface, making it difficult to distinguish the icy haze from the white egrets resting among the gray-yellow reeds. Suddenly, several horses galloped along the riverbank like arrows released from a bow. Shi Chao led the way, with Liu Xian close behind. Following them were Shi Chao’s guards, some carrying bows, others with quivers, and many laden with daily necessities—including the iron pots and steamers needed for cooking.

The group galloped along the embankment of the Luo River without pause, their target clear: Mount Wan'an, located south of the Yi and Luo rivers.

Mount Wan'an was not a single peak but a vast expanse of mountain ridges spanning nearly ten miles, standing in distant opposition to Mount Song, the Central Peak. Because of its deep, treacherous ravines and majestic scale, it had always served as a natural barrier to the south of Luoyang. Unlike typical mountains, Mount Wan'an was filled with strange rock formations and dense forests, abundant in fruit trees, with clear springs echoing through winding, secluded paths; thus, it was also known to the world as Stone Forest Mountain or Clear Spring Mountain.

This was Liu Xian’s first time at Mount Wan'an. After crossing the Luo and Yi rivers and while still ten miles away, he could already see the mountain’s magnificent arc from afar—a silvery-white curve reflecting brilliant colors, where snow and water vapor cast a rainbow-like ribbon across the sky, shimmering with dazzling spots of light that distinctly divided the earth from the heavens. Upon drawing closer, one could see the peaks reaching toward the sky, some standing straight and tall as if carved by blades, others slanting like bamboo shoots, inviting one to climb. On the slopes, countless pear and cherry trees spread their crowns toward the light, forming a forest so lush and beautiful it seemed to have been fashioned by divine intent.

"What a breathtaking, embroidered landscape!" Liu Xian marveled, feeling refreshed and exhilarated. It was no wonder, he thought, that the White Deer was fabled to have been born here.

Twenty miles can be long or short, but for two youths galloping on horseback, it was a matter of a single breath. As they neared their destination, Shi Chao slowed his pace.

"Piji," Shi Chao called out upon seeing a pool of water. He reined in his horse, and the surface of the pool, too, was rising with wisps of white steam. "Dismount. We have arrived."

"Where?" Liu Xian, his brow glowing with the vitality of youth, wiped his face, swung down from his horse, and surveyed the surroundings.

They were on a flat stretch of land nestled between three peaks. Aside from the pool, the area was covered in grass and shrubs, with only a two-foot-wide dirt path winding through it, eventually branching off toward the surrounding heights. Liu Xian’s first impression was that the soil was damp and the area desolate; he could not see where one would settle.

Shi Chao let his mount drink from the pool and ordered his attendants to unpack the supplies before walking over to Liu Xian, flicking his riding whip to lead the way. It turned out that by following the left slope for only a hundred paces, the path turned and revealed a naturally formed cave. It was large and the rock floor was level, easily accommodating dozens of people. A spring flowed from within, forming the pool at the foot of the mountain—a truly gifted spot for camping in the wild.

The cave still held the remains of a fire from the last hunting trip led by Shi Chong and his companions. Shi Chao lit a fire, threw in a few pieces of charcoal, and once the flames grew, he shed his dew-dampened cloak and sat on a nearby rock to dry it. He laughed at Liu Xian, "It seems we are the earliest; the others have yet to arrive."

Being early felt like a victory. Liu Xian smiled, "I only fear that being early means shooting the least. This is my first time hunting here; I hope I don’t embarrass you."

"What are you saying? You have me!" Shi Chao said, unconcerned, or perhaps entirely confident. "When I was three, my mother invited a Taoist priest from the Celestial Masters sect to read my bones; he said my life would be one of wealth and success, taken from the saddle, with nothing but triumph. Hunting? Just listen to me!"

"Then I shall take your word for it."

As they spoke, voices and the neighing of horses drifted from outside the cave. Someone had arrived. As a figure appeared at the entrance, a loud voice boomed, "Shi Xinu, this place is hard to find! I hired a guide, but he made me take two extra detours, nearly leading me all the way to Mount Song."

Liu Xian looked closely. The newcomer was a youth about two or three years older than himself, six feet tall, with a broad chest and sturdy frame. Though young, it was evident he would grow into a formidable man.

Shi Chao whispered to Liu Xian, "This is Wang Hutu from the Duke of Boling’s family. He has trained with both sword and spear; he is very strong!"

Shi Chao then walked up and struck the man on the chest, saying, "Stop spouting nonsense. If you could end up at Mount Song, I might have ended up at Mount Tai!"

It was Wang Zhou, grandson of the late Duke of Boling, Wang Shen, and son of the current Duke, Wang Jun. Liu Xian remembered a few years back, it was he who had first called him the "Duke of a Fallen State."

Years later, seeing him again, Wang Zhou seemed, as Shi Chao had claimed, to have completely forgotten the past. When Shi Chao introduced Liu Xian, Wang Zhou looked him up and down as if meeting him for the first time. Upon hearing that Liu Xian practiced swordsmanship, his eyes lit up. "You practice the sword, too? Which school did you learn from?"

Liu Xian replied with a smile, "I studied under Master Ruan. It is merely for health and fitness."

Wang Zhou was very forward, and though Liu Xian was merely being polite, Wang Zhou immediately seized the topic. He sat down next to Liu Xian without reservation and began to rattle off his own insights on sword practice. He spoke for a full quarter of an hour, leaving Liu Xian unable to get a word in.

In high spirits, Wang Zhou drew his own sword from its scabbard and held it up to the firelight. "I hear Master Ruan is a master of hidden swords. As his student, can you tell what kind of sword this is?"

Liu Xian took the sword, feeling it heavier than expected. He examined it closely and saw it was three feet and four inches long, the blade polished like water and radiating a chilling aura. It was indeed a rare, fine blade. On the hilt were eight small characters—four on each side: "May the seas be peaceful" and "Wrapped in horse hide for burial."

Liu Xian returned the sword and shook his head with a smile, "I cannot recognize it."

Wang Zhou laughed, proud of himself. "This was the personal sword of the great general Ma Yuan. It accompanied him through many campaigns, quelling rebellions. During Dong Zhuo’s chaos, it passed to the General of the Front, Ma Teng. Later, when Ma Chao rebelled in Liangzhou and Ma Teng was killed in Ye, Emperor Wu of Wei, Cao Cao, gifted this sword to his adopted son, He Yan. Much later, when the Emperor Xuan launched the Gaoping Tombs Incident and wiped out He Yan’s three clans, this sword came into my father’s possession, and now it has been passed to me."

A single sword had witnessed so much life, death, and the rise and fall of dynasties. Liu Xian was captivated, and using this as a bridge, he found himself naturally discussing history and worldly affairs with Wang Zhou. In terms of historical knowledge, Liu Xian was among the best of his peers, and it wasn't long before Wang Zhou was genuinely impressed. The two youths were soon chatting about everything. When Shi Chao finally called them for lunch, Liu Xian realized the cave was now filled with people.

The "lunch" consisted of freshly made meat stew. Out in the wilderness, there was no need for rigid etiquette; everyone simply grabbed a bowl, ladled out the stew, and ate while sitting or standing in no particular order.

At this point, Shi Chao introduced his other friends to Liu Xian: Chen Zhi, Pei Gai, and Xun Chuo. They hailed from the Chen clan of Linhuai, the Pei clan of Wenxi, and the Xun clan of Yingchuan—all top-tier aristocratic families. Though they were similar in age to Shi Chao, their builds and temperaments were slightly more scholarly, fitting the common stereotype of the nobility: clearly accustomed to a life of ease, rarely exercising, and likely destined to enter government service through their literary talents.

After his conversation with Wang Zhou, Liu Xian no longer felt prejudice toward these young nobles. However, perhaps due to the fatigue of the journey, the three appeared lethargic and showed little desire to talk. After some perfunctory greetings, they were acquainted.

There was one other person present whom Liu Xian already knew: Zhang Wei, son of Zhang Hua, whose nickname was Sanlang. They often crossed paths coming and going from their respective estates, but that was the extent of it; both their parents had discouraged further contact. As a result, despite being neighbors, they had exchanged very few words. Meeting again at Mount Wan'an, both Liu Xian and Zhang Wei felt a strange mixture of emotions—awkwardness, curiosity, and a sense of relief, none of which could quite capture the moment.

Zhang Wei chuckled, "Hey, Piji. It’s been over a year; I thought I wouldn't see you again."

It sounded like something two old friends would say. Liu Xian found it slightly amusing but replied politely, "How could that be? I was merely away on an academic journey." He couldn't help but tease them about their relationship, "After so many years passing each other at our doors, I thought you would never speak to me, as you never seemed to acknowledge me."

Zhang Wei laughed as well. In the end, two teenage neighbors, regardless of the barriers between them, should naturally be friends. He explained, "I would never dare look down on you! You don't know—every time I wanted to come find you, my father stopped me. He said you possessed an 'extraordinary aura,' while my own aptitude was ordinary, and that if we were to become involved, the outcome would be unpredictable."

Liu Xian was startled. He had assumed Zhang Hua’s coldness was to avoid suspicion, never imagining such an assessment had been made in private. An "extraordinary aura"? What kind of extraordinary aura? How was he unaware of it? And how had Zhang Hua concluded this? Could he have been secretly observing him all this time? Zhang Hua’s meticulous face appeared in Liu Xian's mind, and behind those unruffled eyes, there seemed to be thoughts beyond his understanding.

Unable to find an answer, Liu Xian tucked the thought away and replied to Zhang Wei, "Your father’s high regard comes as a complete surprise to me."

On the other side, seeing that nearly everyone had arrived, Shi Chao began to take count. He frowned and said to Chen Zhi, "One is missing. Jia Azhen has not come yet."

Chen Zhi shrugged. "That’s no surprise. He is never in a hurry; he’s always the last."

Shi Chao was somewhat irritated. "But it is past midday already!"

Chen Zhi smiled, "And what, you’re going to leave without him?"

This silenced Shi Chao. He sat down disgruntledly, silently adjusting his bowstring by the fire.

Liu Xian, listening from the side, asked Zhang Wei out of curiosity, "Who are they talking about?"

Zhang Wei looked helpless. He rubbed the back of his head and answered nonchalantly, "Jia Azhen. The heir to the Duke of Lu. You must have heard of him!"

Oh! Liu Xian realized with a start—it was Jia Mi, the heir to Jia Chong!

While there were many founding heroes of the Western Jin, the Duke of Lu, Jia Chong, was particularly unique. He was not only a veteran official serving four generations, having followed the Sima clan since the time of Emperor Xuan, Sima Yi, but he was also a close friend of Emperor Jing, Sima Shi, and Emperor Wen, Sima Zhao. He was the one directly responsible for the assassination of the Gaoguixiang Duke, Cao Mao, in the streets, and thus held an incredibly lofty position. Over the years, through careful maneuvering and marrying his daughters to both the Crown Prince and the Prince of Qi, Sima You, the Jia clan of Pingyang had become the premier noble house outside of the imperial family.

Rumors even circulated among the common people: "The Mas are the head, the Jias follow."

Tragically, however, while Duke Jia Chong had many children, they were mostly daughters. After his only son, Li Min, died in infancy, there was no one to inherit his title. In desperation, Jia Chong chose one of his grandsons to change his surname to Jia and become his heir—this was Jia Mi.

As the only heir to the Jia clan, the future Duke of Lu, and the nephew of the Empress, Jia Mi was doted upon by his elders. All of Luoyang knew there was a young master in the Duke of Lu’s mansion with power rivaling that of a prince, even if they didn’t know his specific name. It was no wonder that even though he was long overdue, Shi Chao could only swallow his frustration.

What kind of person was he? Liu Xian tried to recall their first meeting at the Sunset Pavilion but found he couldn't remember his features. He only remembered Jia Mi being surrounded by a crowd, standing in the center, and speaking to him briefly. What did he say? Liu Xian had forgotten that, too. He smiled bitterly and tapped his head, mocking himself: *Talking about others being forgetful, what about me?*

The group waited for another half-hour in boredom until the sound of a carriage finally echoed outside the cave. It turned out Jia Mi had come by carriage!

The group felt a sense of relief and hurried to the foot of the mountain to welcome him. From a distance, Liu Xian saw a youth in embroidered robes—it was clearly Jia Mi.

The youths were all from noble families, and their attire was by no means cheap. But compared to Jia Mi, they looked plain. Jia Mi wore a dark purple long robe with bamboo patterns, a sable-fur cape with blue silk, a belt inlaid with gold, and bearskin boots encrusted with jade. In his hands, he seemed to be toying with two pearls the size of pigeon eggs. At first glance, he was a dazzling display of wealth and luxury.

What surprised Liu Xian even more was that even such ostentatious attire could not suppress Jia Mi’s innate noble air. This was the first time Liu Xian had seen someone like this: his face was like powdered flour, his skin like polished fat, his figure slender—at first glance, he looked like an incredibly beautiful girl. But upon seeing those eyes, one immediately realized he was simply pampered to the extreme. They were eyes utterly naked, devoid of any guile or pretense.

When Jia Mi saw the group, his first words were an apology: "Terribly sorry, the weather was too cold, I slept in for an hour." But his eyes were smiling, devoid of any genuine regret.

Then he spotted Liu Xian in the crowd and spoke his second sentence: "Isn't this Liu Piji? It’s been years. I heard you are currently studying under Master Ruan?" Jia Mi smiled, his eyes narrowing in a way that felt strangely alluring, yet it made Liu Xian’s skin crawl—it was the look of an eagle eyeing its prey.

Without waiting for Liu Xian to answer, he yawned, stretched, and delivered his third sentence: "This journey was incredibly boring. Why are you all still standing around? Let’s get moving!"

Jia Mi had naturally declared the start of the hunt.