Tome of Troubled Times

Chapter 383: High Mountains and Flowing Water

In any case, it was not yet the right time to launch a counterattack against Maitreya.

Firstly, Xiangyang itself was still in disarray and had yet to fully stabilize. Secondly, Tang Wanzhuang still needed to recover. If something went wrong with her during battle, not even killing ten thousand Maitreyas would make up for it.

Moreover, it was best to wait for Ying Five to come over and talk to him in person. Additionally, attending Yang Jingxiu’s birthday banquet the following month was essential in smoothing things over.

This was indeed a completely different environment from the one that Zhao Changhe had gotten used to ever since transmigrating. In this setting, whether an individual could fight well or not seemed genuinely unimportant. It was thus no wonder why aristocratic families tended to look down on the rough-and-tumble martial artists with a sense of disdain.

Feeling a headache coming, Zhao Changhe rubbed his temples, left Li Sian, and went to look for Xue Canghai.

Xue Canghai was leading the cult members of the Blood God Cult, stationed in the barracks of the city, to vigilantly watch over the troops of Xiangyang.

From the bloodshot eyes of the members of the Blood God Cult, it was evident that the earlier pursuit of Maitreya’s fleeing soldiers had failed to fully satisfy them. It seemed as though they were eager to rush over and slaughter the soldiers of Xiangyang as well.

The exact number of heads taken by each of the cult members after chasing and cutting down tens of thousands of soldiers was unknown. At any rate, since the cult members had been deprived of vicious blood qi for quite some time, this slaughter had allowed the cultivation of many of them to rise. Hence, many of them found themselves looking for more experience points, leaving the soldiers of Xiangyang trembling in fear.

Fortunately, Xue Canghai was not foolish. He understood Zhao Changhe’s intentions, and he managed to restrain the lawless bunch. Consequently, they were busy lifting stone weights and training their blood and qi in the barracks, creating a rather lively scene.

In reality, what those from the Blood God Cult experienced could be likened to finding water after a drought; killing more would not necessarily yield them much more benefit. Xue Canghai himself felt that after all the killing, he had not benefited that much, which only further reinforced Zhao Changhe’s explanation of the will of the Blood God.

It was vital to keep the vicious blood qi in check, refraining themselves from becoming insatiable. It would only harm them should they put the cart before the horse.

Their real goal should be to learn to harness the vicious blood qi on the battlefield. Zhao Changhe’s strike against Yu Cixiu had a significant impact on Xue Canghai. He was now imitating that strike with the Blood God Saber in the barracks, trying to grasp its essence.

“Old Xue, Old Xue,” Zhao Changhe entered the tent, feeling quite pleased. “You’ve done a great job of restraining them. I expected to see a pack of wolves.”

“Aren’t they still a pack of ravenous wolves, just starved to death?” Xue Canghai grumbled.

“Haha, don’t worry. They’ll have another opportunity to fight soon.”

“Are we going to eliminate Maitreya?” Xue Canghai asked. “Tang Wanzhuang should be in charge then, right? There will probably be a bunch of elites from the Tang Clan, as well as southern militias. Will we really have a share in this?”

“Do you think our status is that low?” Zhao Changhe smiled. “We’ve decided to make you the commander of Xiangyang’s forces, how about that?”

Xue Canghai: “?”

You’re telling me, a mountain bandit leader from Wushan, that I’m going to be...

“Oh...” Xue Canghai’s tone became slightly more refined. “Given my background, and having not studied much military strategy, I fear I might not live up to...”

“Don’t worry, you can learn slowly,” said Zhao Changhe. “Also, ask around. There are probably some brothers who would rather stay in the jianghu than become soldiers. See if they’d be interested in joining the Demon Suppression Bureau. I think Instructor Sun, for one, would be a great fit.”

Xue Canghai’s eyes widened in surprise.

Is this a recruitment? Or an amnesty?

But there isn’t an official decree from the imperial court, can this even be considered amnesty? Or does it count just because you say so?

Oh right, I forgot. You’re supposedly a prince, so I guess it does count just because you say so.

“Remember, whether as soldiers or members of the Demon Suppression Bureau, the rules and temperaments must be changed. If they cannot adapt, it would be better for them not to take the job and risk embarrassing everyone.”

Xue Canghai hesitated for a long time. He wanted to ask if Zhao Changhe had decided to become the emperor but thought it too blunt and unrefined for the context. So he held himself back so hard that his face turned purple before he finally managed to ask, “What do you plan to do next?”

Zhao Changhe looked up at the sky. “I’m planning to learn medicine from someone and figure out how to treat her.”

Every moment with Zhao Changhe brought Xue Canghai closer to the brink of pure absurdity.

* * *

Taking Instructor Sun and a few others who preferred not to be frontline soldiers, Zhao Changhe went to the Demon Suppression Bureau. Amidst suspicious looks, he took out his badge and publicly announced Instructor Sun as the head of Xiangyang’s Demon Suppression Bureau. In an extremely unofficial and dubious transfer of power, he turned these demonic cult members into law enforcement officers.

Feeling both a bit guilty and overwhelmed, Zhao Changhe slipped back to the prefectural governor’s mansion.

After all, no matter how dubious it all seemed, with the bureau chief backing him, it did not matter much. Moreover, this was just a temporary measure. If Instructor Sun was not willing to do it in the future, they could simply find someone else to take over.

With this approach, the chaotic Xiangyang actually started to look a lot more normal all of a sudden.

Fund and supplies were on the way, personnel issues were addressed, and the army, though in shambles, now had leadership.

Tang Wanzhuang no longer needed to work herself to death. She could now focus on seeking better health.

Hah, my filial piety as her disciple could probably even move heaven and earth, bringing tears to the empire...

As Zhao Changhe mused over his achievements and entered the backyard of the mansion, he heard the sound of the guqin. He slowed down to listen carefully, frowning slightly.

He found the level of playing to be rather mediocre.

Huh? Have my standards increased because of the insights I received from the Heavenly Tome on the Dao of nature? Or is it just because Wanzhuang hasn’t had much time to practice the guqin lately so her playing has worsened?

Peeking into the backyard, he saw that it was Baoqin who was playing the guqin.

Zhao Changhe rolled his eyes.

Oh, so it was you, that makes more sense.

He scanned the area and spotted Tang Wanzhuang leaning lazily against the railings of a small pavilion, with one of her hands supporting her forehead, while the other held a book. Behind her, a rock garden with flowing water created a scene straight out of a painting. She looked like a fairy leisurely reading in the morning.

Zhao Changhe’s heart skipped a beat.

So beautiful.

Her temperament was captivating. Even Baoqin’s music sounded more pleasant in this setting. She played with such ease and leisure, complementing the scenery perfectly.

Tang Wanzhuang, still reading, said leisurely, “Baoqin, give him the guqin.”

Zheng!

The sound of the guqin abruptly ended, and Baoqin stammered, “Miss, he, he...”

“He won’t break the strings,” Tang Wanzhuang drawled, coaxing her maid like a child. “If he does, you can play with his face until it’s gone.”

Zhao Changhe thought to himself, Thankfully she said play with my face, I thought she was going to have Baoqin break it...

Baoqin stood up reluctantly and warily handed Zhao Changhe the guqin, “Be gentle!”

Zhao Changhe sighed. “I have a lot of things to report to you.”

“Since you’re fully in charge and helping me recover, I don’t want to hear any of that.”

“What if something goes wrong? I’ll feel guilty and unsure.”

“Can it be worse than when Maitreya occupied the place?” Tang Wanzhuang smiled slightly. “Sit down. I want to hear if you’ve been practicing the guqin these days.”

“I’m here to learn medicine. Can we set aside playing the guqin?”

Tang Wanzhuang ignored him, her eyes still on her book.

I forgot some things too. I need to quickly review some medical books to avoid any mistakes. Am I supposed to just tell you that?

Zhao Changhe assumed she was simply being her usual self, neither slow nor hurried, leaving him feeling even more respect for her. He sat down by the guqin, and as he pressed against the strings, he asked, “Which song would you like to listen to?”

“The piece you know best,” said Tang Wanzhuang. “You hardly know any pieces, so why bother acting like you know many?”

Zhao Changhe felt helpless. Indeed, he did not know many pieces, The one he was most familiar with was “High Mountains and Flowing Water.”[1] When Tang Wanhuang had taught him to play the guqin, she mainly taught him this kind of music, emphasizing the bond of close friends helping each other, with no other implications between them. Asking him to play such music now seemed like a repeated warning.

But at this point, such warnings meant nothing to him.

Zhao Changhe lightly plucked the strings, and the melody of “High Mountains and Flowing Water” emerged with some unfamiliarity.

Baoqin pouted, thinking he was really bad.

She stole a glance at Tang Wanzhuang, unexpectedly seeing her smiling.

It’s over.

Just as she was getting sulky, she heard the playing go from rusty to fluent. Baoqin, surprised, perked up her ears.

Although his fluency was limited, his control over his finger movements and strength had become effortless due to his martial arts training. His level in martial arts naturally made it easier for him to excel in other areas, such as learning medicine. The essence of his performance was quite impressive, with it truly conveying the grandeur of mountains, the flow of clear streams, the expanse of the sky, and a refreshing, serene atmosphere. His playing drew the listener into a world of leisure and tranquility.

This level of expressing intent through music was something that Baoqin had not mastered despite years of practice.

How... Just how did he do it?

Tang Wanzhuang’s eyes involuntarily moved away from her book and fell on his profile.

The image of him sitting by the stream, playing the guqin, gradually overlapped and merged with her surroundings.

It has always been in him... always.

She initially thought that the level at which he played the guqin in the illusion was just her fantasy, but he truly had reached that level... Despite his lack of practice and rusty technique, his broad and lofty intent was his own, merging his insights into the natural world, which he had somehow internalized. It had gradually become his own expression.

Even his martial arts spirit was present in his music.

The mountains towering thousands of zhang into the sky, unyielding. The water flowing thousands of li, unstoppable.

Everyone perceived nature differently, and this was his interpretation. Even the sound of high mountains and flowing water became vigorous and resounding, the streams transforming into waterfalls, the geese calling through the sky, and a person standing atop the highest peak.

In the valley below, hidden orchids bloomed.

This was the intent behind the ending of the melody, the orchid in the secluded valley seen from a high vantage point. The only question now was, who was the orchid in the valley?

As the music faded, Baoqin’s expression changed, and Tang Wanzhuang’s gaze became intense. Neither had expected that after not seeing each other for a long time, his demeanor would have transformed so much, with him no longer resembling the stinky bear in their memories.

High Mountains and Flowing Water had now found its true listener.

Zhao Changhe turned to look at Tang Wanzhuang and smiled softly, “I intended to play more softly, but it subconsciously became more vigorous... It doesn’t quite suit your condition. I should just let Baoqin play instead.”

Tang Wanzhuang blurted out, “I don’t want to listen to her. I’m tired of listening to her. I want to hear you play.”

Baoqin opened her mouth but then closed it again.

Zhao Changhe stood up, walked to her side, and sat next to her. “Stop being difficult. Learning medicine is more important.”

“Fine.” Tang Wanzhuang, slightly annoyed, directly handed him the Chinese medicine book she was holding. “This is the first volume of the Divine Farmer’s Classic[2]. Start by memorizing the appearance and effects of each herb. I’ll test you on it later.”

Zhao Changhe grimaced as he flipped through the thick tome. The memories of cramming for exams resurfacing and haunting him.

How long has it been since I last studied? Can I even memorize all this? Also, this is just the first volume? Does that mean there are more?

People tend to seek shortcuts in moments of difficulty. Zhao Changhe suddenly had an idea.

What would happen if I scanned the herbs with the second page of the Heavenly Tome?

If the second page of the Heavenly Tome represents the Dao of nature, it should be related to medicinal herbs, right? Could it offer me a more precise, slow-motion analysis of the herbs, just like the one I received for martial arts?

If I were to extend this even further, what if I incorporated the Black Tortoise’s Atlas of Mountains and Rivers into it? What would happen then?

1. This references an actual piece, titled High Mountains and Flowing Water (高山流水). ☜

2. This is a reference to the oldest surviving Chinese medicine manual, the Divine Farmer’s Classic of Materia Medica. ☜