Chapter 72: Du Zigong’s First Letter

Not only were the characters in simplified script, but the layout of the letter was also entirely modern: written horizontally, from left to right, rather than the vertical columns and right-to-left order favored by people of ancient times. It was glaringly obvious—this letter could never have been penned by someone from antiquity. Zhang Chi had already arrived at a clear conclusion in his heart.

As everyone knows, simplified characters only came into widespread use after the founding of the People’s Republic. How could anyone from the past have written them? Zhang Chi now felt almost certain—there could only be one author of this letter: Du Zigong.

He had begun to suspect as much when, back at the Immortal’s Workshop, Miss Ruoshui had told him that the Daoist sect’s seven-character incantation was “East, South, West, North, Center, Fortune, Purity”—the very words found in mahjong. At that moment, Zhang Chi had felt sure that Du Zigong, like himself, must be a traveler from another world.

It started with mahjong, and now, with the appearance of simplified characters, Zhang Chi’s suspicions were confirmed: Du Zigong was undoubtedly a transmigrant. Who else in this era could possibly know about mahjong or simplified script, unless they too were from another time?

Yet, even though Zhang Chi had guessed the truth, he still asked, “Who wrote this letter, and why am I being shown it?”

“This was written by Du Zigong years ago,” came the reply. “As for why you’re to see it—turn it over, and you’ll understand.”

Zhang Chi flipped the letter and found four words written on the back: “To Zhang Chi, personally.”

He could not help but feel a jolt of astonishment. He had thought he’d already pieced together the sequence of events, but now, faced with this letter, fresh doubts troubled him. Even if Du Zigong was a transmigrant who knew simplified script and the mahjong incantation, how could he possibly have known that Zhang Chi would arrive here today and read this letter?

Granted, Du Zigong had crossed over before him, but since both were transmigrants, Zhang Chi should not have existed in Du Zigong’s original history. How, then, could Du Zigong have known of him?

Puzzled, Zhang Chi carefully broke the seal and began to read. The letter went as follows:

“Dear friend,

I know your name is Zhang Chi, though we have never met. I can only convey these words to you through a letter, and this is the first I have written for you.

Perhaps you find all this very strange, but I cannot explain it in this letter. In time, as things unfold, you may gradually come to understand the truth behind it all.

The reason I write is simply to warn you: treasure the woman who has come here with you today. You and she are destined as dragon and phoenix—a pair fated to be together. If you ever lose her, you will regret it for the rest of your life, tormented by remorse…”

He had not finished reading, but it was enough to leave Zhang Chi thoroughly stunned. Du Zigong even knew about Jiu Niang! Zhang Chi could not help but glance at her. She stood quietly nearby; seeing him look over, she returned his gaze with a gentle smile—and in that moment, Zhang Chi felt a wave of emotion that seemed boundless.

Jiu Niang was delicate, and her eyes revealed her true heart—her dependence on him was unmistakable in that glance. Zhang Chi had never imagined he would develop feelings for her, but ever since rescuing her again from the Five Bushels of Rice Sect, something subtle had shifted between them. During all these events, she must have come to care for him.

Zhang Chi was not the flirtatious type, unlike Chu Liuxiang, roaming the world and sowing affection wherever he went. But having saved Jiu Niang twice, it was only natural she would admire him. The delicate changes in their relationship were not easily discerned by those involved.

He did not dwell on this, however, and continued reading:

“Do you believe in fate?

Perhaps you did not, as I once did not. But there are things in life that force belief upon you. When everything happens, and you learn more, you will discover destiny is real. For instance—why have you come to this place? Why have you become the ‘Heaven’s Mandate’ destined to save this era?

Many things are preordained, whether or not you think so. In the end, fate will draw you onto this path.

There is no doubt—you are the Heaven’s Mandate!

Cherish the woman who has come here with you. Otherwise, when you finally see the whole truth, you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

Though still perplexed, Zhang Chi’s easygoing nature prevented him from worrying. Since the letter said it was Du Zigong’s first to him, there would surely be a second, a third… In time, whatever he needed to know, he would learn.

Still, he could not help but wonder: Du Zigong, famed throughout Jiangnan, once the previous “Heaven’s Mandate” before himself—why did he care so much about Zhang Chi’s romantic affairs? No matter how he pondered, he could not fathom Du Zigong’s intention.

Could there be something special about Jiu Niang? The Five Bushels of Rice Sect had taken her to be their Saintess—could there be some deeper meaning to this as well?

…

Night had fallen. Outside the city of Shanyin, a vast army was marching in from a distance. Banners fluttered, and from afar, the force seemed to stretch endlessly across the land—surely numbering in the hundreds of thousands.

They halted less than ten miles from Shanyin. From the soldiers’ armor and the banners they flew, it was clear: this was the imperial army.

A young general sat astride his horse at the head of the force. He looked no more than sixteen or seventeen, with fair skin and crimson lips—a most handsome youth.

At this moment, he gazed far into the direction of Shanyin, his demeanor elegant, his bearing striking.

A senior officer rode up and saluted him with a clasped fist. “Commander, scouts report that the rice-bandit rebels have slaughtered all the Wang and Xie clans within the city. Should we launch our assault now?”

This youth was none other than Sima Yuanxian, son of King Sima Daozi of Kuaiji. Though only sixteen or seventeen, he was already shrewd and calculating—outstripping even his father in cunning.

Sima Yuanxian was the archetype of a prodigy: young, but by virtue of his birth, already appointed Commander-in-Chief with command of a powerful army.

He smiled slightly. The scheme of letting others do the dirty work had been his own. Now that his plan had succeeded, he was pleased, adopting a posture of command well beyond his years. “The rice-bandits have broken into Shanyin and slaughtered the Wang and Xie clans. But have they taken any further action?”

The officer replied, “Your Excellency, apart from that, nothing of note. However, our spies report that their Saintess has gone missing, throwing the city into panic and destroying their will to fight. This is truly a golden opportunity for an assault.”

“The Saintess is missing?” Sima Yuanxian sneered. “These days, the Celestial Masters can’t even protect their own Saintess. No wonder they’re little more than rice-bandits now.”

With that, Sima Yuanxian spurred his horse forward, his officers hurrying to follow. He stared intently at Shanyin for a long moment before finally uttering two words:

“Attack now.”