The Physician paid no attention to that sword at all.
With the commotion stirred up by the Sixth Prince, the rain-prayer ceremony naturally could no longer proceed.
Originally, the death of the four-legged snake was simply an ill omen. The Taoist priests could have just found another snake and carried on. But the Sixth Prince, with his provocative words, especially invoking Mencius’s mention of regicide, left no one daring to continue the “whipping of the dragon” ritual.
Viscount He was unable to regain his dignity and glared resentfully at the Sixth Prince.
He indeed had no control over the Sixth Prince, but it was a different story with the Emperor! Once he returned to the capital, he intended to file a complaint!
The Sixth Prince gracefully took his leave, followed closely by the indignant Viscount He. The few Taoist priests looked at each other, sighed, and started cleaning up the altar and incense burners.
“Gentlemen,” General Liu interjected, drawing the attention of the priests.
“Blessings of the Boundless Heavenly Venerable,” the priests replied, stopping their work to greet him respectfully.
General Liu probed, “From your accents, you don’t seem to be from Yongzhou, are you?”
The priests, speaking in the official language, smiled and replied, “Indeed, General. We hail from the capital and belong to the Qianyuan Temple. We were appointed by higher authorities to assist Viscount He in the ceremony.”
Atop the roof, Meng Qi remarked with interest, “I didn’t expect General Liu to assist us so. I was wondering about their background!”
“Why aren’t you calling him ‘Moneybag’ anymore?” Mo Li asked, glancing sideways.
Meng Qi feigned surprise, “Isn’t his moneybag with us now?”
“…”
Without his moneybag, General Liu had successfully reverted to his real name, though he himself remained unaware.
Each time Liu Dan entered the capital, it was always a rushed visit, so he was unfamiliar with the temples and Taoist establishments. He politely mentioned, “The real person (leader) of your temple must have greatly earned the Emperor’s trust to be assigned this duty at the Imperial Mausoleum.”
The Taoists exchanged wry smiles and replied, “General, you might be unaware, but due to an issue at the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, we have been favored by His Majesty. But being sent here to the Imperial Mausoleum… well…”
They hesitated to continue.
“What happened to the Imperial Astronomical Bureau?” Liu Dan inquired curiously.
The Taoist, after looking around cautiously, whispered, “It’s said that on the night of the Lantern Festival, His Majesty observed a comet heading north, passing through the Ziwei constellation. It’s considered an ill omen.”
A comet, also known as a broom star.
Mentioning the fifteenth of the first month made Mo Li slightly uncomfortable.
Meng Qi subtly observed Mo Li, thinking back to that night when they were at the wilderness gathering… oh no, celebrating the Lantern Festival.
Mo Li and Meng Qi did not see the comet. After all, witnessing such phenomena depends on the location. Some places can observe it, while others can’t. Comets vary in size, and they’re not so noticeable after a while. If by chance the weather turns bad and clouds block out the moon, then spotting stars becomes an impossible feat.
“It’s quite mysterious. In Taijing, for several days straight, there was no clear sky. Strangely enough, a full moon appeared that night. The Emperor, who was holding a feast in the palace, was delighted at the sight and ordered the banquet to be moved to the terrace to admire the moon. People were even ordered to compose poems. At the height of the festivity, that comet appeared, clearly visible to all the ministers and court ladies present. The comet, being in the sky, couldn’t be hidden or obscured, unless everyone chose to pretend they were blind.”
Mo Li remained silent.
This can be described as very unlucky. While comets are not common, they are also not rare.
Mo Li, who grew up in Qi Mao Mountain, often ventured out at night. Some medicinal herbs that prefer the shade need to be harvested and transplanted at night. Sometimes he also had to make house calls. Every year, he would encounter such phenomena once or twice, but he was never alarmed.
The legend of the “broom star” is purely nonsensical.
However, many people believe in this tale. If the people of Zhushan County happen to see the broom star, they would pray to the gods for protection. Depending on where they are, they would worship different deities.
Those in the mountains would worship the mountain gods, while those near the waters would worship river gods.
There’s no need for incense; just kneel and kowtow a few times, prepare a fire basin at the entrance of the house, and cross over it to dispel bad luck.
Wealthy households, however, would be more anxious. They would not only burn incense but also offer a significant amount of money to light lanterns, asking monks to chant and pray day and night for blessings. Some would even invite monks and Taoists to perform rituals at their homes.
Generally, spotting a comet is not easy, as most people sleep at night and rarely go out once it’s dark.
During the Lantern Festival, there are lantern parades, and many might have seen the comet.
The Emperor, hosting a feast with all his ministers, couldn’t miss such an event. Even if everyone pretended not to notice, its appearance stirred many thoughts. Lu Zhang’s ascension to the throne was controversial, and now another rumor was added to the mix.
A Taoist, pointing to the sky, sighed, “The Emperor took his anger out on the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, saying they failed to report the comet in advance.”
Liu Dan wasn’t particularly bothered, but Meng Qi chuckled, “The Imperial Astronomical Bureau of the Qi Dynasty is unfortunate. How could they predict an unpredictable comet? Though they can anticipate solar eclipses.”
Meng Qi, who served as the State Teacher during the Chu Dynasty, was in charge of the Astronomical Bureau then. He was well-versed in the mysterious events that charlatans often used to their advantage.
Whether it’s a comet or an eclipse, both can symbolize a king’s misrule.
The Emperor might have to issue a self-criticizing edict to admit the wrongdoing.
General Liu Dan, who suppressed rebels, knew that the Emperor’s anger had another reason.
There was an earthquake in Qiuling County, Pingzhou.
This news might have been kept secret. Ordinary people and even officials may not be aware of it. With the appearance of the comet, political instability follows, and this natural disaster from the previous year would surely be the subject of much discussion.
Mo Li, lost in thought, left the imperial mausoleum.
“Brother Meng, do you think Qingwu Ancestor will exploit the rumors of the comet?”
“Of course, and not just him. The kings of Jiangnan – Ning, Wu, and Qing, as well as the Tianshou King of the Holy Lotus Altar in the southwest, will all make their moves. It remains to be seen whether Lu Zhang can suppress the controversies.”
Walking with his hands behind his back, Meng Qi moved effortlessly, unhindered by anyone or anything around him.
Mo Li pulled out a map from his bag, walking and saying, “The Cangfeng Temple isn’t on our way to the capital, it’s a detour. Should we check it out?”
“You don’t want to, do you, Physician?” Meng Qi said with a teasing smile.
Without lifting his head, Mo Li responded, “How do you figure?”
“Every time we’ve come across Taoist priests on this journey, you’ve taken note. If you really wanted to visit the Cangfeng Temple, wouldn’t you have done so directly without bothering to check the map?”
“… True, our primary goal remains the mausoleum of Emperor Li.”
Stowing the map away, Mo Li’s hand paused as he retrieved an object.
It was a dark purple soft sword, which could be worn as a belt. Curled up, it now resembled a coiled incense used to repel insects.
This sword belonged to Meng Qi. Other than their initial meeting where they sparred, Meng Qi hadn’t used it since. When Meng Qi transformed into a sand rat, the sword, along with his clothes, had been collected by Mo Li.
Now, Mo Li returned the soft sword to Meng Qi.
“Why bother? Just keep it for me, Physician!” Meng Qi replied earnestly.
“Do you plan to become a sand rat again?” Mo Li inquired, puzzled. Leaving a weapon like that behind would be a loss.
Meng Qi looked slightly amused. “…Haven’t you examined my sword closely?”
“I don’t tamper with others’ belongings,” Mo Li replied matter-of-factly.
Meng Qi was baffled. How could a martial arts expert not be curious about a unique weapon? But then he realized, Mo Li isn’t a martial artist; he’s a Physician, probably more intrigued by medical instruments than weapons.
Resignedly, Meng Qi stored the soft sword. Mo Li watched him, sensing there might be something unusual about the weapon.
Is it the material of the sword? Its appearance?
In what scenario would someone insist another person keep their weapon? Was it a disguise strategy, with Mo Li to impersonate Meng Qi, perhaps?
Mo Li shook his head and said earnestly, “Brother Meng, I don’t know how to use a sword. Even if one’s martial arts are advanced, using unfamiliar weapons can reveal flaws, especially before a master like Qingwu Ancestor.”
“Ah?”
Meng Qi looked bewildered.
The two stared at each other in silence, realizing they had misunderstood each other’s intentions.
“Physician, do we really lack such understanding of each other?”
“…How can a sand rat and a fish, one digging and the other swimming, have any understanding?”
“Aren’t we both spirits of the mountains?”
“Shang Yuan Mountain is in the capital, and Qi Mao Mountain is in Pingzhou. How far apart are they again? Let me check.” Mo Li pretended to reach for the map, but Meng Qi quickly snatched the bag away and ran off with it.
Mo Li didn’t rush after him.
—The money pouch was with him; where could Meng Qi go?
Mo Li discarded his earlier suspicion about impersonating the state teacher and continued to ponder the peculiarities of the sword.
A dark purple soft sword…
Had his master mentioned such a sword in the martial world?
Walking leisurely, Mo Li recalled various historical records, reviewing famous swords like Fish Intestine, Chun Jun, Tai A, and Wan Ren.
“Hm?” A thought suddenly struck Mo Li. It was said that during the Chen Dynasty, there was a master swordsmith who enjoyed forging swords of unusual designs. He once adhered to ancient methods to forge a ceremonial sword from the Spring and Autumn Periods, which was incredibly long and not practical.
He crafted short blades that could hardly be called swords, and even made half-length swords.
He was full of whimsical ideas, satisfying only himself, the swordsmith, without considering if the wielder would find them practical.
This master had two notable creations in his lifetime. One was named “Yan Hui Lou,” more like a throwing weapon than a short sword, capable of returning to the thrower in a half-circle trajectory.
The other was a flexible blade named “Zhong Qing.”
It was said to be lightweight and thin, cold like the morning dew on curtains in autumn. The patterns on the blade resembled the brows of a maiden, captivating to behold. Upon its unveiling, someone inadvertently mentioned it resembled a tune once sung in the teaching houses.
The swordsmith happily engraved the name of the tune on the blade, giving it the name “Su Zhong Qing”, which later generations simply referred to as the Zhong Qing Sword.
Though beautiful, the sword had a tumultuous history. Like the other works of the swordsmith, few wanted to wield it. Eventually, it ended up in the martial world, possessed by the head of the Tian Shan sect. He discovered the flexible sword was particularly suited for masters of the internal arts. This sect leader, with his chivalrous nature and restless spirit, traversed countless mountains and historic sites, and with him, the fame of the Zhong Qing Sword soared.
However, while crossing the Qing River by boat, he was ambushed by enemies. He repelled the attackers, but his right arm was gravely injured, and his treasured sword fell into the river, lost forever.
That was an event from two centuries ago.
There were countless weapons in the martial world whose whereabouts became unknown. Many only retained their names, with no one remembering their appearances.
The saying, “Yellow sands bury the crimson bones; the Qing River buries the deep emotions,” not only tells of the location of two famous blades but is also a phrase martial artists use to express sorrow and self-deprecation.
Could that sword possibly be—
Lifting his gaze, Mo Li noticed Meng Qi waiting ahead.
“How did you come by that sword?” Mo Li asked leisurely.
Meng Qi perked up, seemingly pleased, as if the conversation had finally touched upon the core matter.
“Physician, isn’t it coincidental? When the Chen Dynasty fell, the crown prince of Chen fled the capital with the imperial seal. This event was of moderate significance. Even if the imperial seal was lost, a new one could be carved without anyone knowing. But to prevent future descendants of the Chen Dynasty from rebelling with the seal as justification, a search was initiated. Coincidentally, I was free at the time.”
“At that time, I wasn’t the state teacher yet. I remember from the history books that there was once a dynasty where the imperial seal was taken. The emperor sent someone to retrieve it, and the search lasted for seven years. Almost becoming a full-time ‘Seal Retrieving General’. I believed this task shouldn’t be dragged out and needed to be resolved quickly,” Meng Qi recalled, touching his chin. “But in the end, perhaps due to my persistence, the Chen crown prince, thinking I was bent on extermination, drowned himself in the river with the seal.”
“Which river?”
“What else could it be? Naturally, it was the Qing River, the one closest to the capital.”
Meng Qi quickly returned to his main story. “At that time, the Qing River wasn’t wide, but during the flood season, the currents were rapid. Since it was summer, what if the Chen crown prince knew how to swim and didn’t drown but was playing a trick? I had many people with me, and in such a public scenario, we had no choice but to dredge. Otherwise, if word spread, countless people would flock to the river to search for the imperial seal, hoping to claim a reward from the court. The court was poor at the time, and they couldn’t afford this reward. Anyway, thankfully, I was skilled in martial arts and wasn’t afraid of confrontation.”
Mo Li: “…”
This wasn’t the story from the books.
“But wasn’t the imperial seal passed down from the Qin Dynasty?”
“That’s a myth. With so many political upheavals and dynastic changes, how could it be the same seal? Maybe the Chen Dynasty was just superstitious, thinking it was a genuine seal symbolizing the mandate of heaven.”
Meng Qi scoffed, continuing, “Moreover, the emperor has many seals. Only that one was engraved with ‘Bestowed by Heaven, blessed with longevity’. Regular decrees didn’t require its use. How could it truly represent the divine mandate?”
After the crown prince drowned, Meng Qi immediately ordered his men to search the river.
Some of his subordinates were skilled in underwater operations, capable of underwater sabotage and boarding enemy ships.
Using leather-made airbags, they went underwater in the Qing River, which had swift currents and wasn’t clear.
Even though they acted promptly, they searched for three full days.
“It was easy to retrieve the body, but the imperial seal sank into the sandy riverbed. We searched the area extensively, and I even dived in. In the end, we didn’t find the seal, but I discovered this sword.” Meng Qi patted his waist, smiling, “Who knows how many years it had been submerged in the river? Over time, it remained largely untarnished, truly a remarkable sword. I took it back to the capital and had it refined by a swordsmith. While it might not be as sharp as some famous swords, I cherish it dearly.”
Mo Li internally chuckled because he noticed Meng Qi’s emphasis on the term “famous sword”.
Keeping a poker face and feigning disinterest, Meng Qi felt compelled to press on.
“Such a great sword. Its previous owner and its maker must not have been nobodies.”
“Hmm.”
“……”
Just a ‘Hmm’?
Meng Qi couldn’t believe it. How could Physician Mo Li not recognize the famous saying, “Yellow sands bury red bones, Qing River entombs deep emotions”? Had Qin Lu never mentioned it to Mo Li? After providing so many hints, Mo Li still couldn’t guess the name of the sword?
“By the way,” Mo Li suddenly frowned.
Meng Qi perked up, hopefully looking at Mo Li, though he tried to conceal his eagerness, his eyes became brighter.
“Weren’t you talking about the imperial seal? Did you find it later?” Mo Li asked seriously.
“…”
If Meng Qi were currently in his sand rat form, his fur would probably be standing on end.
After calming down, he would probably droop his head in dejection.
— Why is it so difficult to get the Physician to notice that sword?
“It was my subordinates who retrieved it. I took it back to the capital and handed it over to Li Yuanze. The current Qi dynasty should still be using that imperial seal,” Meng Qi replied with a dignified expression, his robes fluttering in the wind, giving off an extraordinary aura.
However, Mo Li had already seen through his facade.
“Let me have a look at your… ‘Zhong Qing’ sword another day.”
With that, Mo Li sped up, using his lightness skill to dart away.
Meng Qi stood still, dumbfounded. After a while, realization dawned on him.
Had he just been played by the Physician?
Author’s Note:
Sand Rat: So that’s the kind of Physician you are?
——————
Comets can be periodic, returning at regular intervals, or they can be a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence (Hey!), and ancient people could not differentiate between the two.
However, solar and lunar eclipses were indeed predictable in ancient times. Even though the ancients were superstitious, making loud noises during such events, it doesn’t mean the state institutions couldn’t predict them. Some people could even predict them on their own. Historical records show that certain local officials had done so.
The Han Dynasty Records state that eclipses have nothing to do with politics. Accurate predictions probably began in the Northern and Southern Dynasties and afterwards, thanks to the astronomer Zu Chongzhi who discovered the movement pattern of the intersection of the ecliptic and the celestial equator over 1500 years ago.
For instance, during the Tang Dynasty, there’s a notable example:
Li Chunfeng proposed to the emperor that the current calendar was inaccurate. He predicted a solar eclipse on a specific day and time, which the old calendar did not indicate. When the eclipse indeed occurred as he predicted, a new calendar was adopted, called the “Linde Calendar.”
In some novels, characters who travel back in time and are well-versed in history warn about an impending eclipse. When their predictions come true, they’re hailed as divine by the emperor and officials. However, this is a tad awkward. Because even if no one else had predicted it, it would only prove that the calendar needed an update. They wouldn’t be treated as divinely gifted but would instead be pressed for a new calendar.
The earliest record of a solar eclipse is on a piece of oracle bone script.
Because the Book of Songs has records related to solar eclipses, educated individuals in ancient times would generally not be afraid of the sun disappearing forever… Furthermore, solar eclipses are common, only total solar eclipses are rare. Every emperor would have experienced one, regardless of their governance quality.
The main issue is “ominous signs.”
Too many occurrences? Ominous. Occurring on a bad day? Ominous. On a good day? Ominous. Accidentally seeing one? Ominous. Basically, anything can be blamed on these ominous signs, including criticisms of the emperor.
The so-called ominous signs are no different from what we call “Mercury retrograde.” When we have bad luck, we blame it on Mercury being in retrograde! [whispers, actually, Mercury never goes retrograde.]
Mercury: It’s so unfair!
[The so-called retrograde is due to a visual illusion.]
[Even if it’s a visual illusion, many planets go retrograde, not just Mercury.]
Mercury: It’s genuinely unfair!! I walk my path. Even if you all misunderstand, you focus only on me, criticize me for not walking correctly, where can I seek justice? Crying…
