The Character for Home

The ox-cart creaked and groaned as it rolled slowly forward.

Li Huowang’s group continued walking alongside the ox’s head.

Some of their luggage had been loaded onto a few of the carts, and everyone was carrying a lighter load now. They no longer looked as haggard as before.

These new tools had been purchased at a town they’d passed through earlier, using Sun Baolu to make the transaction.

After all, they still had a long road ahead, and they couldn’t do without essential gear.

Jin Shanzhao still carried his bamboo basket on his back, a tune humming from his lips.

The lush green grass all around lifted his spirits.

You couldn’t see scenery this beautiful deep in the Kingdom of Later Shu. They were getting close.

He opened his own map again and recalibrated their current position.

“Mm… maybe a few more days and we should reach the pass.”

He folded the map away and clasped his hands toward Li Huowang in congratulation. “Honored Immortal, we’re almost out of the pass. Congratulations, congratulations!”

“Once we exit the pass and step into Qingqiu territory, we’ll be completely safe.”

Li Huowang, who had been reading The Art of Deception, looked up at him briefly, then bent his head back to the book.

“Where are you planning to go? Planning to follow us through Qingqiu, all the way to Liang?”

“No, this old man isn’t heading to Qingqiu. I’ll turn back once I’ve sent you all to the pass.”

“Turn back? Back where? Aren’t you afraid of being caught?”

Jin Shanzhao smiled with confidence. “Never mind. This old man still has ways to protect himself.”

Li Huowang sized him up again. No matter how he looked at it, he thought the man was bragging.

Just before, the convict-soldiers had nearly scared the piss out of him, and now he was putting on airs again.

As the two were talking, a village appeared ahead.

They didn’t all go in. Only Jin Shanzhao and Li Huowang entered to buy grain.

Two people wouldn’t draw too much attention, and Jin Shanzhao had a silver tongue, suited for dealing with wary farmers.

Li Huowang didn’t plan to linger here. He intended to replenish supplies quickly and then rush through Later Shu as fast as possible.

It would be more tiring, but with pursuers on their tail, they couldn’t afford to be picky.

As soon as he stepped into the village, Li Huowang caught a distinct stench.

He followed the smell to a pigsty, one built right under a house.

When he saw what the black-haired pigs were eating, his voice trembled a little.

“They… do they feed pigs this way around here too?”

The sight triggered memories. He thought of the Anci Nunnery, of the Abbess Jingxin lying dead in that pigsty.

“Hmm? Why would the Honored Immortal ask that? Isn’t this how pigs are always fed? That’s why this old man never eats dog or pork—both those beasts eat filth.”

Li Huowang forced down his emotions and turned to face him.

“What did you say? Other people feed pigs like this too?”

“Of course. This is how it’s been done for thousands of years.”

Jin Shanzhao crouched down, picked up a pebble, and began writing on the soft earth stroke by stroke.

He wrote the character 家 (home) squarely and neatly. Even with a pebble as his tool, the result was graceful.

“Home” — that was the character he wrote.

“Honored Immortal, look. The top part, 宀, stands for a roof. The bottom part, 豕, stands for a pig.”

“A roof over a pig—that makes a home.”

“You can see from this character that even the ancients fed pigs with filth.”

“When you read the meaning out of the character, if you really think about it, some things are hidden inside the very words.”

Staring at the character 家 on the ground, Li Huowang slowly crouched down and gently traced it with his finger.

“So this is what home is…” His eyes moistened slightly as he remembered the past, bit by bit.

That place had once been the only spot in this mad world where he could feel warmth. But it was gone forever.

“Honored Immortal?” Jin Shanzhao noticed something was off about Li Huowang’s mood and took a small step back.

After traveling together this long, he’d already sensed some peculiarities. The Honored Immortal knew all kinds of supernatural powers, but his mind seemed… broken.

Li Huowang scraped some dirt over the 家 character, burying it. Then he stood up.

He looked squarely at Jin Shanzhao, this old man who appeared so ordinary.

“Old sir, your identity isn’t ordinary, is it?”

Ordinary folk rarely knew how to write, let alone write so beautifully with a pebble.

Jin Shanzhao froze, weighing something.

“I saved your life, and you can’t even tell me that? Forget it, forget it—if you don’t want to say, keep it. Let’s go find a farmer and buy grain.”

Just as Li Huowang took a few steps away, Jin Shanzhao’s voice came from behind.

“Very well. There’s no harm in telling the Honored Immortal. This old man is actually a disciple of the School of Vertical and Horizontal Alliance.”

“School of Vertical and Horizontal?” Li Huowang turned slowly, sizing him up with confusion. Those three words were strange to him.

Having revealed his identity, Jin Shanzhao seemed to glow with renewed vigor.

“Open and close with the four seasons to transform the myriad things. Either unite the weak against the strong—that is vertical. Or serve one strong power to attack the weak—that is horizontal. This is the way of the Zongheng.”

As Jin Shanzhao explained, Li Huowang came to understand what the Zongheng School was.

Put simply, it was a specialized profession that emerged in an age of many small states.

In Jin Shanzhao’s own words, it was about strategy—the indispensable advisor every ruler needed.

He helped rulers devise plans, form alliances, and manipulate balances of power.

But from Li Huowang’s perspective, it was about smart-talking people who jumped between small kingdoms using their tongues.

“Understand the big picture, excel at reading people, master rhetoric, adapt to changing circumstances, possess both wit and courage, be skilled in long-term strategy, and capable of decisive action. That is what it means to be a disciple of our school.”

Seeing the way Jin Shanzhao’s tail was practically in the air, Li Huowang cut him off.

“If you’re that impressive, why didn’t you talk circles around that woman earlier—talk down a whole army with one tongue?”

At this, a flicker of embarrassment crossed Jin Shanzhao’s face.

“Ah—well, a scholar may meet a soldier and find no room for reason. All the more so against convict-soldiers from Later Shu.”

“Tch.” Li Huowang turned and walked into the village. Jin Shanzhao hurried to catch up.

“Honored Immortal, I know you don’t trust me. But that’s fine. After you safely leave the Kingdom of Later Shu, you can attend to your own affairs.”

“That way, my whereabouts won’t be leaked.”

“Since you saved my life, I am bound to repay you. Once I become a traveling diplomat in the Kingdom of Later Shu—”

“Wait—so you’re telling me you don’t even have a ruler yet? You’re basically unemployed right now?”

“Soon, soon. When this old man turns things around and secures a government post in Later Shu, I will never forget the Honored Immortal.”

“Sure, we’ll talk about it then. But I figure by that time I’ll be long gone to Liang.”

Everything was fine, but the lighthearted banter between the two was interrupted when Li Huowang’s hand suddenly tightened on his sword hilt.

“H-Honored Immortal?” Jin Shanzhao followed Li Huowang’s gaze. Under the eaves, he spotted several black pottery jars, each plastered with a large red inverted 福 (fortune) character.