In August, the scent of sweet osmanthus filled the city. A roadside vendor of osmanthus cakes laughed heartily as he opened his steamer, the rich aroma of the cakes and the sweet fragrance of the blossoms instantly drawing a crowd of children playing nearby.
Just as the vendor was about to reach out his hand to accept some copper coins, he suddenly heard a shout not far away. "The young master is coming!" The vendor immediately pulled his hand back, covered the steamer, and led the children to quickly retreat five steps.
With the crisp sound of galloping hooves, everyone turned their heads, only to see a young, fiery-red horse charging toward them like the wind.
Although this horse was not yet fully grown, one could tell at a glance that it was a fine steed, its speed not inferior to that of an adult horse.
Riding atop this young horse was a youth who had just passed his ninth year. He wore the soft armor of the military academy, but his attire was disheveled—his belt was loosely tied, the straps of his helmet hung down to his shoulders, and his hair, untied in a bun, draped casually over his back. "Go! Go! Liefeng! If you run too slowly and get me caught, we're having braised horse meat tonight!" the youth shouted at the top of his lungs. As if understanding his words, the fiery-red young horse ran even faster.
As the youth rode past the osmanthus cake stall, he unexpectedly turned his head. "Brother La!" The vendor smiled and tossed a cake he had just picked up. "Young Master, catch!" The youth caught the osmanthus cake and swept past like the wind. He took a large bite, exclaiming, "So sweet!" Not long after the youth rode off, a dozen or so lightly armored warriors arrived in hot pursuit.
These men were all drenched in sweat, their faces flushed red. Their leader halted his horse, took off his helmet, and cursed in anger, "That little whelp!" "Commander, commander, don't lose your mind and speak nonsense!" a subordinate hurriedly advised. "If you call the young master a whelp, aren't you calling..." "Deputy General Chen, did the young master skip school and sneak out again?" the vendor whom the youth had called Brother La greeted with a smile. In Qiandong City, the people were simple and honest, and public order was excellent. Under the rule of the Marquis of Zhenxi, Baili Luochen, although the military's prestige remained undiminished, the soldiers had always treated the commoners with kindness. The two sides were quite close, which was why even a roadside vendor dared to approach this deputy general. Deputy General Chen fiercely wiped the sweat from his hair, then said in frustration, "Tell me, of all the things the Marquis could have given him, why did he have to give him that divine steed Liefeng? How are we supposed to catch him? How! La Cheng, did you see him just now? Where did he go?" "The young master ran that way," La Cheng pointed to the west. "Go, pursue him to the east!" Deputy General Chen put on his helmet and whipped his reins.
"The young master's personality is all because of the Marquis and how you hounds spoil him!" La Cheng watched the lightly armored warriors depart, smiling as he murmured, "What else can we do? The Marquis treats us well, so of course we must repay him." "You, you, you, go to Luocheng Alley. You, you, you, block him at the crossroads."
"The rest of you, follow me to Xiyu Street to catch him! I don't believe I can't catch him today!" Deputy General Chen barked.
"What do we do after we catch him?" a subordinate asked.
"Do I really need to tell you? Of course, we coax and trick him back to the Marquis's estate!" Deputy General Chen said, deflating. "The Lord Marquis only has this one son. Are we really going to subject him to military law?"
The dozen or so cavalrymen immediately split up, and Deputy General Chen couldn't help but sigh.
The Marquis of Zhenxi, Baili Luochen, had joined the army at the age of sixteen and spent his entire life fighting wars, rising from a lowly centurion to the Marquis of Zhenxi.
In his youth, he was a ruthless warrior who would hang the severed heads of his enemies from his waist. After becoming a general, he was a fearsome commander who could bury thousands alive with a mere wave of his hand. Yet, it was only in his old age that he finally had this only son, whom he doted on like a precious treasure, which was how the boy had developed such a stubborn and disobedient streak.
Almost every day, he would skip his lessons at the military academy to hang out with the common folk and people from all walks of life, practically treating Qiandong City as—
"The Little Tyrant!" a boy in coarse cloth clothes called out in delight as he saw the fiery-red horse, Liefeng, galloping toward him.
"Whoa." The young master reined in his horse, stopping to look down at the boy. "Xiao Yu'er, where are you heading?"
"To buy some rice for my mother," the boy replied.
"Come here, put on my clothes." The young master leaped off his horse, slipped his soft armor onto the boy, and then pressed a silver ingot into his hand.
"Is your mother's illness any better?"
The boy hurriedly tried to refuse. "Thanks to you last time, the doctor came by a few times, and she's much better now.
There's no need for more silver."
"Take it. Buy more medicine for your mother, and stew an old hen for her to eat. But you have to do me a small favor. Put on this soft armor, ride Liefeng, and take a few laps around the city—the longer, the better!" The young master led Liefeng over, and the dazed boy was helped onto the horse.
The boy said in a panic, "But I... I don't know how to ride..."
"Don't be afraid, just hold on tight to the reins!" The young master placed the reins in his hands. "Liefeng understands human speech; he won't let you fall. Just close your eyes and hold on tight." The moment he finished speaking, the young master slapped the horse's rump. The fine steed, Liefeng, let out a long neigh and bolted forward, carrying the screaming Xiao Yu'er away.
The young master clapped his hands, smiling with satisfaction. He immediately walked into a small tavern nearby and called out loudly, "Sister Huowu, give me a cup of good wine to calm my nerves!"
"A nine-year-old kid, of all things to learn, you learn how to drink like an adult?" A beautiful and captivating young woman dressed in white emerged at the sound of his voice, raising her hand to rap the young master on the head.
The young master grinned. "This morning, I snuck a cup of Osmanthus Nectar bestowed by the Emperor in Tianqi City from my grandfather's room. The aftertaste is still in my mouth. I have to drink a few more cups quickly before the taste fades, otherwise it would be such a waste."
"You always have an excuse. But not today. Today, the proprietor has an honored guest inside discussing important matters. We're closed to customers all day." Huowu shrugged.
The young master frowned. "An honored guest?"
"It's my master," a slightly childish voice suddenly chimed in.
The young master turned around and only then noticed a young book-boy sitting in the corner by the main entrance. Carrying a fairly large book chest on his back, he was earnestly flipping through a book.
The young master asked curiously, "Who is your master?"
The young page closed his book, jumped down from his chair, and took slow, deliberate steps forward, murmuring, "I am a banished immortal, riding the wind down to the mortal realm. Holding a white jade staff in hand, ascending the high tower in a drunken dream."
The young master looked bewildered. "What on earth are you reciting?"
"Even if I told you, you wouldn't understand." The young page shook his head like an old scholar, fished a jade bottle out from his robes, and handed it to the young master.
"My master paid a sudden visit and ruined your mood. Just now you mentioned Osmanthus Nectar. My master gave me some as well. I couldn't bring myself to drink it, so I might as well give it to you."
The young master thought to himself that although this young page spoke strangely, he was quite generous, so he accepted it. He asked, "You like to drink too?"
"Downing thirty cups of white wine, the noble spirit at my fingertips rumbles like spring thunder. Wine is a good thing," the young page said, swaying his head in self-satisfaction.
The young master laughed and said, "It seems you prefer reading books."
The young page suddenly turned solemn and interrupted him, "I *only* like reading books."
"Interesting. What is your name, little page?" The young master suddenly felt a fondness for this young page. Although they had their differences—the young master detested sitting down to read books above all else—he really liked the words "only like" from the page's mouth.
"My name is Xie Xuan." The young page suddenly cupped his hands in a polite bow. "Exchanging names is a matter of great importance. May I ask..."
"Young master, Deputy General Chen is here!" Lady Huo Yu suddenly shouted.
The young master turned his head and saw Deputy General Chen's horse appearing at the end of the street. He patted the page on the shoulder. "If you haven't left by tomorrow, come find me at the Marquis of Zhenxi's manor!" With that, he leaped onto the opposite roof. Although he was rather lazy when it came to martial arts practice, he had put some effort into his lightness skill.
The young master fled across the rooftops, with Deputy General Chen giving chase on horseback through the city.
The commoners in the city went about their meals and work as usual, seemingly long accustomed to this little tyrant of Qiandong, who turned the city upside down every few days. Only in a corner of the street did a black-topped sedan chair suddenly come to a halt. The person inside gently lifted the curtain, gazed at the young master on the rooftops, and murmured in a low voice, "This youth..."
After taking a few turns, the young master finally shook off Deputy General Chen. Panting heavily and drenched in sweat, he suddenly spotted a nearby courtyard where osmanthus flowers were in full, brilliant bloom. His interest piqued, he used his last ounce of strength to leap toward the courtyard. However, after taking just a few steps on the opposite roof, he seemed to collide with an invisible wall.
With a sharp *thud*, his forehead took a heavy blow. Dazed and disoriented, the young master plummeted straight down beside the wall.
By the time he woke up, it was already dusk.
The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the courtyard. Beneath a massive osmanthus tree in the yard stood a small wooden table. A long-bearded old man in a white robe, exuding an otherworldly, immortal aura, sat on the ground. With a wine cup in one hand and the other gently twirling a fallen osmanthus blossom, he looked at the newly awakened young master and said with a smile, "Awake?"
"Am I... dead?" the young master asked in confusion. "Are you an immortal? Where is this..."
"This is Qiandong City, your home."
"You have been sleeping here for quite a while now. You should return to your manor, otherwise your parents will worry." The old man pointed to a small door in the corner of the courtyard. "Push that door open, and you will find your way."
"Ah, right." The young master stood up, his head still feeling a bit dizzy.
The old man smiled and said, "Ordinary people cannot reach my place. Your arrival here proves we share a spark of fate. Before you leave, I have a request. Would you be willing to take me as your master?"
The young master was puzzled. "Take you as my master? What will you teach me?"
The old man reached out and twirled an osmanthus blossom, then gave it a gentle lift; the blossom instantly dissolved into fine powder. He flicked his finger upward, and the powder immediately scattered all over the osmanthus tree.
"Martial arts?" the young master asked skeptically.
The old man said nothing, only offering a faint smile.
The young master turned around and shrugged. "Not interested."
The old man still smiled. "Then our fate ends here."
As the young master was walking toward the door, his nose suddenly twitched. He caught a different scent amidst the pervasive aroma of osmanthus.
"Peach blossoms!" The young master turned back in surprise, staring at the wine jar on the wooden table. He rushed over, and the old man, understanding his intent, immediately poured him a cup. The young master took the cup, drained it in one gulp, and then slowly closed his eyes.
It was already autumn, and osmanthus bloomed throughout the city, but at this moment, he seemed to have returned to April, with a gentle spring breeze blowing and peach blossoms blooming brilliantly all over the trees!
He opened his eyes again, his gaze filled with delight. "Where did you buy this wine?"
The old man took the wine cup and tipped it over. As the liquid fell, it suddenly transformed into a peach blossom, landing in his hand. He spun the peach blossom and said profoundly, "I brewed it myself."
The young master immediately fell to his knees. "I take you as my master, Sir! Please teach me how to brew wine!"
The old man smiled. He raised his hand and tossed the peach blossom upward. The osmanthus tree, which had already shed all its flowers, returned to spring, but when it bloomed again, it was covered in peach blossoms! The fragrance filled the garden, a magnificent sight. He waved his hand gently to lift the young master from the ground, saying softly:
"Very well."