Meng Yuan suddenly noticed a glint in Li Jun's eyes. Meng Yuan turned his head away and looked into the distance. An impulse welled up in his heart, an impulse that made his eyes moist. At this moment, he felt that he truly understood Li Jun.
In the shadow of Lu Xiang's fall, the two boys stood up, wiping away their last innocent and naive tears, and turned their gaze to the vast land of China. For them, the road ahead was still long and arduous; they had only just begun. But having embarked on this rugged path, they would never look back.
What they need to do now is take an important step in this long journey.
As they were silently traveling, a distant, melodious song drifted from afar. The two stopped their horses to listen, and vaguely heard that it was a short poem being sung:
"The phoenix sings in the wild, the dragon lies on the beach; iron chains block the river, making it difficult for boats to sail; the world is vast and people are nowhere to be seen; my heart is at ease and I feel cold alone."
The two looked at each other, and Meng Yuan asked, "What do you mean?"
Li Jun could only smile wryly. He was not much of a student, just like Meng Yuan, but he had made some progress under Lu Xiang's tutelage over the past three years. Although he could roughly understand that the song was about unfulfilled talent, he could not explain it to Meng Yuan.
As the singing grew closer, a woodcutter carrying a load of firewood walked along the path. Li Jun dismounted and stepped aside, bowed deeply, and asked, "Excuse me, sir, is this Wutong Ridge?"
The woodcutter hurriedly put down his firewood, returned the greeting, and said, "I dare not, I am but a woodcutter from the wilderness, unworthy of being addressed as sir. This is indeed Wutong Ridge."
Li Jun was overjoyed, knowing he had come to the right place: "May I ask if you know that a Mr. Feng Jiutian lives here?"
The woodcutter looked at Li Jun in surprise, then laughed and said, "There is no Mr. Feng or Feng Jiutian, but there is a madman Feng or Feng Kuangren, who taught me to sing that song just now."
"Where does this madman of the phoenix reside?" Li Jun still dared not be rude and asked respectfully.
"Follow me, follow me." The woodcutter picked up his firewood and walked forward, then began to sing again:
"Heaven and earth are ruthless, treating all things like straw dogs; when times are unfavorable, wise men are hard to find; orchids are fragrant in the valley, while trees rot in the courtyard..."
Li Jun felt that the song was melancholic yet generous, and the melody seemed to be his own heartfelt expression. His desire to meet this Feng Kuangren or Feng Jiutian became even more urgent.
The woodcutter walked at a leisurely pace, which made Meng Yuan somewhat anxious, but seeing that Li Jun remained calm, he kept his composure. Fortunately, the woodcutter sang all the way, and although Meng Yuan didn't quite understand the lyrics, it was enough to keep him from feeling lonely on the journey.
As they traversed the winding forest path, Meng Yuan and his companions were suddenly greeted by a sight that caught their eye: a wine flag rising from the trees ahead, fluttering in the north wind amidst the ethereal mist. A corner of the eaves peeked out from the lush foliage, making the small village appear to them like a heavenly courtyard or a secluded paradise.
"What a wonderful place," Meng Yuan couldn't help but praise. He had followed Lu Xiang for a long time, and wherever he went, there was war and bloodshed. He rarely saw such a peaceful and tranquil place.
The woodcutter, presumably already accustomed to this place, dismissed Meng Yuan's praise: "What a wonderful place! This is located in the far north, covered in ice and snow for most of the year. The people living here barely manage to make ends meet. How can it be considered a wonderful place?"
Li Jun asked, "I've heard that your place is rich in gold and you're incredibly wealthy. How come you only manage to make ends meet?"
The woodcutter shook his head dismissively and said, "So what if there is abundant gold? While princes and nobles are indeed richer than a country because of gold, ordinary people still have to work hard for their daily meals. This is true everywhere the sun shines."
Li Jun, who already harbored this rebellious spirit, found it exceptionally satisfying to hear this. Meng Yuan, on the other hand, stared at the woodcutter in surprise, Li Jun's words echoing in his ears again.
"Please don't be offended, gentlemen," the woodcutter laughed and said self-deprecatingly, "Spending too much time with that madman Feng has picked up some of his madness. What I just said was nothing but nonsense. Our Wutong Ridge is a well-known village of madmen."
Li Jun knew he didn't want to say any more, so he bowed again and asked, "May I ask which house Mr. Feng lives in?"
The woodcutter pointed to where the wine flag was and said, "You won't find him at his house; you have to go to the tavern to find him."
After saying goodbye to the woodcutter, Li Jun went straight to the tavern. The small tavern had only two tables, and business was not busy at the moment. Only one person was sitting at the table, drinking by himself, and even the tavern owner was not there.
Li Jun straightened his armor, walked lightly up behind the man, bowed, and asked in a low voice, "Are you Mr. Feng?"
The man took a sip of his drink, glanced at Li Jun out of the corner of his eye, and said, "No."
After a slight hesitation, Li Jun asked again, "Do you know where Mr. Feng Jiutian is?"
The man shook his head and said, "He's dead. You're too late."
Li Jun paused, scrutinizing the drunkard. He appeared to be in his forties, but half his hair was already white, his face was somewhat dirty, and his cloudy eyes stared at the wine in his hand. His unkempt beard was matted and stained with wine. Yet, for some reason, Li Jun felt that this man was Feng Jiutian, the one he was looking for.
So Li Jun asked again, "May I ask your honorable name, sir?"
Just then, the woodcutter, having put down his firewood, came over to watch the commotion and chimed in with a laugh: "Hehe, this is the madman I was talking about."
Section 3
Why is Mr. Feng unwilling to show us his true face?
Meng Yuan's tone was somewhat aggressive. He was already tired of being led around in circles by this crazy woman.
"You want to see Feng Jiutian, not me, Feng Fengzi. What's this about true face or not?" Feng Fengzi rolled his eyes, and Meng Yuan noticed that his eyeballs were almost completely gone.
"We are uncouth men, please forgive us, sir. We have come to ask for your guidance." Suppressing his displeasure, Li Jun once again stopped Meng Yuan's anger.
"You're so arrogant just because you need my help. If you didn't need something from me, wouldn't you have tied me up right now?" Feng Fengzi didn't appreciate his kindness and his tone showed no sign of softening. But after a moment, he finally said, "Speak your mind, or shut up."
"I wonder if Mr. Feng would be willing to lend me a hand?" After briefly recounting his recent experiences, Li Jun earnestly said, "Marshal Lu spoke highly of you before his death, which is why we have taken the liberty of visiting you."
“Lu Xiang…” Mentioning this name, Feng Fengzi felt a little confused. As a citizen of Lan Kingdom, perhaps he should hate this dead man, but in any case, he couldn't muster any hatred in his heart. After a moment of silence, he continued, “It’s rare that he still remembers me. So, didn’t they tell you about what happened back then?”
"That wasn't mentioned."
“More than ten years ago, Lu Xiang came here just like you did,” Feng Fengzi said slowly. “He stayed here for three days, talked to me for three days, and begged me to come out of seclusion for three days. However, he couldn’t even meet my most basic request, so I couldn’t help him.”
Lu Xiang couldn't even meet his most basic requirements! Li Jun and Meng Yuan were half surprised and half disbelieving. Seeing their expressions, Feng Fengzi smiled slightly: "I have no reason to lie to you."
"So what are Mr. Feng's requirements?" Li Jun asked, clinging to a sliver of hope.
"The request I gave you back then was very simple: he had to declare himself King of Su." To state such a momentous matter as usurpation of power so casually without batting an eye—only this madman in the entire continent could do that.
Before Li Junyi and Meng Yuan could recover from their shock, Feng Fengzi continued, "I'm not one of those pretentious, hesitant hermits. If you can meet my conditions, I'll immediately come down from the mountain to help you. If you can't, like Lu Xiang, you'll go back the way you came."
Compared to Meng Yuan, Li Jun was far more astute in his understanding of politics, and he grasped Feng Feng's meaning. Someone as brimming with political wisdom as him, if unable to utilize it, would be like a highly skilled martial artist without an opponent—a truly frustrating situation. However, without an environment conducive to showcasing his talents, even if he were to emerge from seclusion, it would be a wasted effort. Even if Lu Xiang had managed to bring him out of seclusion back then, he likely wouldn't have been employed by figures like Prince Su or Li Gou, and might even have been harmed by those who envied his talent.
"So, what conditions are you going to offer me? You don't expect me to declare myself King of Su, do you?" Since he understood that the relationship between the two sides could not be the kind of patronage between a wise ruler and a virtuous minister in history, Li Jun knew that verbal respect would not move the person in front of him.
“Strength.” Feng Fengzi took a sip of wine. “Of course, it’s strength. Go south, take Yuzhou, and I will serve you.”