Chapter Twenty-Nine: Exposing His Secrets

"Sir, your words just now were like a clap of thunder, awakening me to the truth. You truly have my best interests at heart, and I am deeply grateful to you," Zhou Zhi said, setting down the unfinished pottery and clasping his hands respectfully to the Taoist.

The Taoist let out a satisfied chuckle, glancing sidelong at Chen Wenju with a look that clearly sought to show off.

But instead of mentioning the matter of becoming Chen Wenju’s study attendant, Zhou Zhi merely asked with due reverence, "Might I ask your honored name, sir, and where you reside? If I ever find a good place in life, I would wish to give thanks for your kindness."

"I am Qingyun, a wandering Taoist, called Li Shun. I have no fixed abode. If you wish to express your gratitude, simply burn incense and bow at home," Li Shun replied with great pride, his head bobbing in self-satisfaction.

Zhou Zhi thought to himself: Li Shun? A Li, is he? As someone who had traversed time and had skimmed over some Ming history in his previous life, Zhou Zhi suddenly recalled a notorious trickster from the Chenghua era named Li Zisheng. This man, with nothing but deceitful arts, had managed to hoodwink the emperor and become a favored courtier.

It was well known that the Chenghua court was plagued by corruption and strange influences. The saying "Papier-mâché Grand Secretaries, clay-molded Ministers" originated from that very period. The five great martial sects of the jianghu roamed at will within the halls of power, living in wild abandon.

Li Zisheng was the infamous leader of the Immortal Sect, a figure whose influence reached the highest echelons. Yet when the Chenghua Emperor died and Hongzhi ascended the throne, the new emperor swiftly swept away the five sects, and Li Zisheng was left with no refuge but to return home in disgrace. With Li Zisheng’s downfall, his followers—Taoists, monks, and the like—scattered to the winds.

While the people of the Ming dynasty were deeply superstitious, their faith in Li Zisheng’s arts vanished. His arrest by imperial order proved to all that he was nothing but a charlatan. Li Zisheng’s final years were miserable: his disciples shunned him, none cared for him, and in the end he died in bitter obscurity, having tasted the full chill of human indifference.

Zhou Zhi glanced at Li Shun, certain that he was of the same ilk as Li Zisheng. It seemed likely that, during the Chenghua era, Li Shun and Li Zisheng had crossed paths. After all, they shared a surname; and even if not kin, a man skilled in trickery would surely claim such a connection if it served his interest.

In those days, many forged ties where none existed. Take Wan An, for example, one of the “Papier-mâché Grand Secretaries.” He had no real connection to the emperor’s favored concubine Lady Wan, yet he went to great lengths to claim a distant kinship, thereby gaining a powerful patron.

With this in mind, Zhou Zhi smiled faintly and said, "Since you bear the Li surname, perhaps you are kin to Master Li Zisheng?"

Li Zisheng, now a byword for disgrace, was an utter embarrassment. Zhou Zhi was clearly using this connection to humiliate Li Shun.

It was a shot in the dark, but the moment Zhou Zhi uttered these words, Li Shun’s expression changed threefold—first startled, then flushing red, and finally regaining his composure. His narrow eyes shot a venomous glance at Zhou Zhi as he said coldly, "You brat, what nonsense! How could I be kin to Li Zisheng? Hmph! That Li Zisheng is nothing!"

Yet his words lacked conviction.

"All the better if there’s no relation. You, sir, seem a man of transcendence; you would hardly be tied to a trickster like Li Zisheng," Zhou Zhi said with a sly, knowing smile.

Seeing Zhou Zhi’s expression, Li Shun felt a chill deep within.

"Zhou family brat, I urge you once more to reconsider. Serving as Young Master Chen’s study attendant is your best choice," Li Shun said darkly, then turned to Chen Wenju: "Young master, let’s go. There’s no point talking further to this pauper—it’s beneath us!"

Without waiting for a reply, he strode out of the drying yard, his face cold and severe.

After only a brief exchange, Li Shun sensed that Zhou Zhi was no ordinary youth. Continuing to spar words with him would only risk humiliation.

Zhou Zhi’s guess was correct: Li Shun was indeed kin to Li Zisheng—his very nephew, in fact. When Li Zisheng was at the height of his power, Li Shun had basked in his reflected glory, rising from a ne'er-do-well to become the prefect of a jurisdiction in Jiangxi, wielding authority with pride.

But his fortunes changed as quickly as they had risen. Once Li Zisheng was dismissed by the Hongzhi Emperor, Li Shun lost everything.

To hold power is a heady feeling, and now, bereft of it, Li Shun felt bitter and unwilling to accept his fate. Yet he had no real talent, and as the notorious nephew of Li Zisheng, his hopes of office were dashed.

Li Zisheng had made his name as a wandering occultist, and so, after much thought, Li Shun donned a Taoist robe and called himself "Qingyun," which means “to ascend to the clouds”—a name expressing his hope to one day rise to high office, just as his uncle had.

Ironically, Li Shun bore no gratitude to Li Zisheng for past favors, blaming him instead for his own downfall and detesting him fiercely.

Even as a drifting Taoist, Li Shun found that any mention of Li Zisheng brought nothing but scorn and ridicule. This only deepened his resentment, and he came to see his kinship with Li Zisheng as the gravest of shames.

Zhou Zhi, by sheer luck, had struck a nerve by suggesting this connection, exposing Li Shun’s secret and filling him with panic. That was why he had hastily broken off the conversation and left.

Seeing Li Shun depart, Chen Wenju quickly turned to leave as well, but not before throwing a cold parting shot: "The master was right—I won’t stoop to argue with a penniless brat like you. Hmph!" With that, he rushed to catch up with Li Shun.

The servant, Gou Wang’er, naturally trailed along behind, and the three made their way toward Baiyue Village.

As they walked, Li Shun slowed his pace and said, "Young master, I took a good look. That Zhou Zhi—his appearance is upright, but he is cunning and deep. He will become a blight upon Baiyue Village. From his features, I can see he will bring you misfortune. He must not be allowed to remain!"

"You’re right, Master. I’ve hated him to the bone for a long time and have longed to be rid of him. But... alas..." Chen Wenju’s face clouded with frustration, his words trailing off.

Suddenly, he changed the subject. "Master, just now that Zhou brat said you were kin to Li Zisheng. Is it true?"

"Of course not! How could I be kin to Li Zisheng? We may share a surname, but we are not related," Li Shun replied with vehement conviction.

"Good, good. My father told me Li Zisheng was a scoundrel—anyone tied to him will never hold their head high again. But Li Zisheng’s disgrace happened eight or nine years ago, and that Zhou brat is a country boy my own age. How could he know about Li Zisheng?" Chen Wenju’s brow furrowed.

"That’s why I say he cannot be allowed to stay," Li Shun said sternly.

...

Zhou Zhi watched the trio’s receding figures, a faint sneer curling his lips. Judging by Li Shun’s reaction, he must indeed be kin to Li Zisheng. That man’s reputation is ruined, yet his kin still dare to show their faces—truly bold! Chen Wenju is determined to see my downfall, and now Li Shun will surely become his accomplice. Well, I’ll just wait and see what tricks the pair of you will try.

Let’s see what means you have against me.