Chapter Twelve: Earning the Trust of the World

With just that simple sentence, Zhou Zhi’s words made Old Wang’s face change dramatically, his expression full of astonishment. The other farmers hadn’t caught on yet and hurriedly asked each other, “What does that mean? What is the answer?”

One of the quicker-witted farmers thought for a moment and said, “Isn’t Second Master Guan referring to Guan Yu? And ‘bird in a cage’—isn’t that a play on ‘yu’ for feather?”

Who didn’t know the famed name of Guan Yu, Lord Guan? At that, everyone exclaimed, “That’s right, it’s Guan Yu!”

Then all eyes turned to Old Wang, who still looked baffled, and they chuckled, “So, Riddle Master, how about it this time? Out of riddles, aren’t you? Looks like this Zhou family lad is going to best you after all. That fall the Zhou boy took must have shaken something loose—perhaps it’s time for you to hand over your title of Riddle Master! Haha!”

Their laughter rang out.

Little Zhou Shaocheng, though he didn’t know who Guan Yu was, saw everyone laughing and Old Wang looking so surprised, and realized his big brother had guessed the answer again. He ran over to Old Wang, stuck out his little chin, and asked proudly, “Old Wang, how about my brother? He can guess all your riddles! You may stump others, but you can’t stump my brother. Isn’t it true you’re outmatched this time?”

His words only made the others more excited, and they threw Old Wang gleeful looks.

Old Wang was always a bit full of himself, and whenever they failed to guess his riddles, he’d never miss a chance to tease them. So now, seeing him bested, everyone felt a sense of satisfaction. Of course, it was all in good fun—despite the banter, their relationship with Old Wang was friendly. He was just that sort of person, not malicious at heart.

Old Wang’s ruddy face flushed a deeper red, but he was used to such banter and quickly regained his composure, laughing heartily, “Well now, Zhou Zhi, you’re not bad! I once posed the ‘bird in a cage’ riddle to Master Wang at the academy, and he took half a day to figure it out. You, lad, are even sharper than the schoolmaster!”

“But so what if you guessed it? Do you think I, the Riddle Master, am out of riddles? Ha! I’ve got plenty more—an endless supply!”

He turned away from the others, knowing well that the other farmers wouldn’t be able to guess his riddles anyway. He strolled over to Zhou Zhi, stroked his graying beard, and watched Zhou Zhi pounding rice as he said, “Zhou Zhi, I have another riddle for you. If you can solve this one, I’ll give up calling myself the Riddle Master and never pose another riddle in public again.”

Old Wang spoke with determination, but Zhou Zhi knew better—someone as cheerful and playful as Old Wang would forget such a vow in a few days. He’d been making up riddles all his life and was far too passionate about it to simply stop.

After all, it was Old Wang who brought these riddles to the sun-drying grounds for everyone’s amusement. Zhou Zhi had no desire to embarrass Old Wang by outshining him. So he smiled humbly and said, “Old Wang, what are you saying? I only happened to know the answers to those two riddles by pure chance. How could I possibly compare to you? You’re the best riddle master in all of Baiyue Village.”

Zhou Zhi’s modesty pleased Old Wang greatly.

Old Wang chuckled, “Haha, I make up these riddles just to give everyone something to think about and a bit of fun. Zhou Zhi, if you can solve them, then go ahead—it’s all in good spirits.”

“Old Wang, please don’t press me. I really can’t solve any more,” Zhou Zhi replied, sweat streaming down his face as he stopped to catch his breath.

“You’re clever enough now, what harm in trying? Treat it as a test. Listen closely: ‘To win the trust of the world’—what is it?” Old Wang’s face grew solemn, feigning annoyance.

For some reason, every time Zhou Zhi saw Old Wang, he was reminded of the Mischievous Old Child from “The Return of the Condor Heroes.” At this moment, he looked more like him than ever—beard bristling, eyes fixed intently on Zhou Zhi, an endearing sight. Zhou Zhi couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“What now? Zhou Zhi, have you guessed the answer?” Old Wang straightened, his voice trembling slightly.

“No, no, I really can’t,” Zhou Zhi managed to stifle his laughter and waved his hand.

By now, a small crowd had gathered around them, and seeing Zhou Zhi laugh for no apparent reason, the others thought he’d guessed the answer and was mocking Old Wang. They were just about to launch another round of banter at Old Wang when Zhou Zhi insisted he didn’t know the answer, which left them all rather disappointed.

Determined to see Old Wang lose face, someone encouraged Zhou Zhi, “Zhou Zhi, give it some thought. The Riddle Master’s riddles aren’t that hard—you can do it!”

Little brother Zhou Shaocheng also urged anxiously, “Brother, try! You can guess it, I know you can!”

With everyone urging him on, Zhou Zhi didn’t want to spoil their fun, so he knitted his brow and put on a look of intense concentration.

All the while, Old Wang watched Zhou Zhi closely, his heart in his throat, his face growing tense. Inwardly, he prayed, Zhou Zhi, I know you’re clever, but please don’t work it out! If you do, my title of Riddle Master might just pass to you.

He had no idea that while he cherished his title as a treasure, Zhou Zhi cared nothing for it.

Time passed, and still Zhou Zhi said nothing. At last, Old Wang laughed triumphantly, “Well? Zhou Zhi, you can’t do it, can you? My title isn’t so easily taken away! In Baiyue Village, no one can out-riddle me, haha!”

“Old Wang, I truly can’t guess it—you’re the master!” Zhou Zhi replied with a smile, then poured some more rice into the mortar, ready to resume his work.

The other farmers sighed in disappointment and walked away, shaking their heads.

Old Wang had defended his title, and he grinned at Zhou Zhi, “Zhou Zhi, you have a real knack for riddles. If you’d apprentice yourself to me, you might surpass me one day!”

That was Old Wang’s way—if someone failed to guess his riddle, he’d always tease them, no matter if they were a grown man or a child.

Zhou Zhi didn’t mind. He looked up at the sky, pointed, and said softly, “Old Wang, what do you see up there?”

Old Wang looked up, and at once his face flushed crimson, his body trembling ever so slightly.