Chapter 56: The Daughter of a Transmigrator?

Zhang Chi stood there in shock for a long moment, unmoving. In truth, ever since he had crossed into this world, he had never once questioned the reasonableness of his passage through time and space. Such an occurrence defied all logic; he had simply gotten drunk and, in that muddled state, completed his journey to another era. Yet now, suddenly faced with the possibility that he was not the only traveler from another world, his mind went utterly blank. What was it that had caused him to cross over in the first place? He found himself deeply curious about this man, Du Zigong, but unfortunately, the man was already dead. Otherwise, perhaps he could have uncovered some clue as to why both of them had come to this time.

“My lord? My lord?” The girl called Ruoshui had to call out twice before Zhang Chi finally returned from his deep contemplation. The more he thought about it, the more amused he became, and he could not help but tease, “Your master, I suspect, must have been a gambler in his previous life.”

Zhang Chi was, of course, referring to the fact that Du Zigong, despite having already traversed time, still introduced the concept of “East, South, West, North, Center, Fortune, and Blank” from mahjong to fool the ancients, passing it off as the seven-word incantation of Daoism. Zhang Chi found it impossible not to find this hilarious. It seemed likely that, before his own crossing, Du Zigong had indeed been a gambler.

Ruoshui, of course, could not understand his meaning. She was displeased at Zhang Chi’s slander of her master, but since Zhang Chi was the very “Heaven’s Mandate” she relied upon to avenge her master, she answered patiently, “My master never gambled. He only healed the sick and saved lives, ever concerned for the people, and spent all his wealth for the sake of the common folk.”

“Oh?” Zhang Chi doubted that such a saintly soul could truly exist in the world.

Noticing his disbelief, Ruoshui continued, “For instance, in the lands of the southeast, my master established countless charitable shelters. Whenever there was famine or disaster, he provided free porridge to those in need. Even in normal years, he ordered food to be kept in the shelters, so that any traveler who was hungry could help themselves. Because of this, the people of Wu and Yue would, whenever they had surplus grain, willingly donate it to these shelters for the benefit of travelers passing through. Without such deeds, how could the Dao of the Celestial Master have flourished so greatly across the Three Wu regions?”

The southeastern lands Ruoshui referred to were, of course, Wu and Yue—today’s Zhejiang. This fertile region had always gone by many names, and was home to countless legends and legendary figures.

But to do good deeds without hidden motives? Zhang Chi remained skeptical. “If your master truly cared for the people, then why did he deceive them into rebellion? Was it not to borrow the name of ‘Heaven’s Mandate’ to trick the masses into dying willingly for him? Even if he gained the world, I doubt he would ever be at peace with himself!”

Zhang Chi had always admired true heroes; if one raised the banner of rebellion, that too was an act of valor. But he held nothing but contempt for those who used superstition to mislead the people. It was simply his nature—arrogant, unruly, and forthright.

“My master never incited rebellion by deceiving the people,” Ruoshui protested. “He merely grieved for the chaos engulfing the land and the suffering of the people, and wished to do something practical to aid them. He had no interest in contending for power.”

Seeing Zhang Chi remained unconvinced, Ruoshui pressed on, “My master once said that all things are foreordained. Though the Five Barbarians ravaged the lands north of the Yangtze, they would never cross the river. Those who attempted to reclaim the north from the south would always fail. Only centuries later, after the Southern Dynasties had risen and fallen through several courts, would a Han family rise from the north, expel the barbarians, conquer the south, and reunite the land, ushering in the greatest golden age in all of Chinese history!”

Ruoshui had absolute faith in Du Zigong’s words, and there was an unmistakable strength in her tone.

Yet Zhang Chi believed her, and all the more so, he became convinced that her master Du Zigong must also be someone who had crossed over from the future. The things he spoke of matched the course of history: the Five Barbarians never did cross the Yangtze, and after the fall of the Eastern Jin, the Southern Dynasties passed through Song, Qi, Liang, and Chen. The “Han family” who would rise centuries later to expel the barbarians and reunite the south could only refer to Yang Jian and his son—the founders of the Sui dynasty. And the greatest golden age of China’s history must have been the Sui and Tang dynasties.

Though Zhang Chi knew little of history, he understood the broad strokes of dynastic change. He also knew that many in later generations underestimated the Sui dynasty, yet he believed it was one of the most remarkable in Chinese history. After the chaos of the Five Barbarians, the Sui unified the north, ended the era of division, and brought peace to countless lives. More importantly, the Sui reversed the barbarization of the north, restored Han surnames, and reintroduced Han culture—saving it from extinction. Such achievements could hardly be called anything but great.

But such knowledge was not something a person of the past could possess. To claim it was divined through Daoist magic was, in Zhang Chi’s mind, absurd. The only explanation he could accept was that Du Zigong, like himself, was a traveler from another era.

After recovering from his shock and gathering his thoughts, Zhang Chi asked, “If your master never intended to deceive the people into revolt, then why has the Way of the Five Pecks of Rice now risen in rebellion? Without decades of preparation, how could it have amassed such power in the south?”

It was a fair question. Ruoshui sighed deeply and said with bitterness, “As I told you before, my master was betrayed by a villain, and that villain was none other than my master’s eldest disciple—my senior brother, Sun Tai of the Sun family of Langya!”

Zhang Chi understood at once—it was a tragedy within the sect. No wonder. Du Zigong, with knowledge of history, could see the past and future clearly, but never the hearts of those closest to him. It was just as Zhang Chi had once discussed with the hermit Shennong: “Heaven’s will is easy to divine, but the human heart is impossible to fathom.”

“My senior brother was of noble birth, well-connected, ruthless, yet adept at patience and scheming. Neither my master nor I saw through his true nature. In the end, he used vile means to murder my master and seized control of the Five Pecks of Rice Sect. It is he who now seeks rebellion! Yet I am powerless against such a villain. All these years I have hidden in brothels and taverns, searching for you, the ‘Heaven’s Mandate,’ to avenge my master and rid the world of this scourge!” Ruoshui’s voice was tinged with anger as she recounted these events.

Perhaps Du Zigong had also been a traveler from Zhang Chi’s own era. But Zhang Chi’s temperament was such that, unlike others who might shed tears upon meeting a fellow from their homeland, he drew a strict line between friends and strangers. He would risk his life for a true friend, but mere kinship or a shared hometown meant nothing unless friendship existed.

“Whether or not I avenge your master is none of my concern,” Zhang Chi replied coldly.

Ruoshui was both angry and frustrated at his refusal; yet she had no other option. Sun En’s authority within the Celestial Master’s sect was unassailable, and aside from “Heaven’s Mandate,” she could think of no one else to help her seek vengeance.

Fighting back her tears, Ruoshui said softly, “If you are willing to avenge my master, I will devote my life to serving you.”

The implication of her words was unmistakable, with a clear undertone of offering herself completely. Yet Zhang Chi was unmoved; he valued emotion over beauty. Still, seeing tears well in Ruoshui’s eyes, he felt a pang of pity and asked, “Since you are Du Zigong’s disciple, your status in the Five Pecks of Rice Sect cannot be low, can it?”

Ruoshui fell silent, as if burdened by some secret. Zhang Chi was curious and smiled, “If you don’t tell me the truth, how can I avenge your master?”

“Does that mean you’ll help me seek revenge?” Ruoshui asked, overjoyed.

“Whether I do or not is another matter. But if you don’t tell me the truth, I certainly won’t help you,” Zhang Chi replied, shamelessly leveraging the position of a strong man over a vulnerable woman.

Ruoshui thought for a moment, bit her lip, and finally said, “Very well. I will tell you everything, and from now on, I will follow and serve you. If you have compassion for me, avenge my master. If not, I have no other choice.”

Her pitiful tone was, in truth, her brilliance. Though she had only met Zhang Chi twice, she understood something of his unusual nature. Such a man could not be swayed by beauty or schemes; only sincerity could move him. Unlike those charming and frivolous sons of noble families, Zhang Chi was not someone who could be coerced into doing what he did not wish—no matter the threat. Yet, if he was willing, there was no fire or blade he would not face for you.

She was just a woman; on her own, how could she hope to take such vengeance? All she could do was place her hopes on this gamble. Thus, Ruoshui composed herself and confessed, “To be completely honest, although I am my master’s disciple, I have another secret identity, known to almost no one: I am his daughter.”

So that was it. No wonder Ruoshui was so determined to avenge Du Zigong.

But she was not finished. “My surname is Du. Because the Five Pecks of Rice Sect reveres the Water Officer, my given name comes from the phrase ‘the highest good is like water’ in the teachings of Laozi. I am the Saintess of the Celestial Master’s sect. My father gave me this name in hopes the Celestial Master’s sect would save the people of the world, bestowing blessings as water nourishes all.”

Zhang Chi was startled. “So you are the true Saintess! The wine maiden who was captured to serve as Saintess—was she meant to impersonate you?”

Though Zhang Chi had been shocked several times that night, he thought he had grown immune. Yet hearing Ruoshui’s revelation, he could not help but nearly leap out of his seat.