Chapter Sixty: Acrostic Poem

The old man smiled faintly and first drew a slip of paper from inside his robe.

“Indeed. At the beginning, even I found it difficult to believe. But this information was conveyed by the Academy of Heavenly Secrets, and I had no choice but to accept it.” The old man gave a slight shake of his head.

Li Zisheng naturally understood even less, yet he caught one important point: the Academy of Heavenly Secrets possessed abilities far beyond anything he had imagined. Its instructions were trusted without question even by a sage capable of summoning the greatest scholars under Heaven. That alone was terrifying.

By the time Li Zisheng had recovered from his astonishment, the old man, his hand trembling slightly, had drawn another slip of paper from his robe.

Zhang Ying hurried forward, took it from him, and passed it to Li Zisheng.

Li Zisheng accepted the slip and studied the writing upon it. The characters swept across the paper with the force of dragons soaring and phoenixes dancing, carrying an unparalleled majesty. Even Li Zisheng could not help admiring them. Whoever had written the note was certainly a master who had immersed himself in calligraphy for many years. Otherwise, such vigorous and powerful strokes could not have come from an ordinary hand.

Of course, there was another possibility: the writer might be young, but had grown up surrounded by calligraphy masters, absorbing their influence over the years until such a style had been forged. For the script revealed that its author must be someone of extraordinary talent and grand ambition, a person determined to contend with all the heroes of the age. Such qualities were hardly possessed by an ordinary man.

The old man, Zhang Ying, and the others had not expected Li Zisheng to judge so much merely from the handwriting on the slip. He truly possessed a rare gift for calligraphy, along with remarkable sensitivity and insight.

Li Zisheng looked down at the pale-yellow paper.

It read:

“Lingxu bears his wrath—what end awaits him?
Zhou villages and schools offer little following.
Tian turns, earth shifts, and the dragon’s chariot circles back;
Shui crystal gleams, while jade scales glow red.
Li Si delayed his journey, lamenting that he had not left sooner;
Xing’s name was already entered in the register of immortality.
Zi Shu of Pingyuan dots the new tea;
Sheng the Sage, though distant, left behind his sacred teachings.”

Li Zisheng had not noticed anything unusual at first and was therefore somewhat puzzled. But very soon, he discovered the secret hidden within the poem. It was an acrostic—and one of profound significance.

It contained his own name. More than that, it even revealed his place of origin.

If only the name had matched, one could still have attributed it to the existence of a namesake. But the references to Lingzhou and Tianshui were wholly unexpected. They had clearly pinpointed his whereabouts. That was something he had never anticipated.

Li Zisheng carefully examined every word of the poem. Since, according to the old man, it had been delivered by the Academy of Heavenly Secrets, it was obvious that the poem contained more than merely his name. There had to be other information hidden within it.

In particular, what was the origin of this talk of a destined connection?

Li Zisheng continued to scrutinize each line. Everyone present understood his state of mind and refrained from interrupting him, silently waiting for him to finish.

To begin with, “Lingxu” was drawn from the fifth volume of the Spring and Autumn Annals of Wu and Yue, in the chapter concerning the inner biography of King Fuchai during his thirteenth year. According to legend, after Wu Zixu of the Spring and Autumn period died, he became a spirit of the tides and was therefore called Lingxu. In later generations, the name was also used to refer to waves and breakers.

As for the second line, if his memory served him correctly, it came from a passage describing a man who, whenever he heard of hardship among the people of his native district, would immediately devote himself to helping them and was praised throughout the villages. The term “village districts” likewise referred to a local community.

Thus, although the first two lines did not seem particularly logical, Li Zisheng could sense that both were related to changes taking place within society.

Immediately afterward came the phrase “the dragon’s chariot circles back.” Li Zisheng remembered that this referred to the mount of the ancient sun god Xihe. Legend held that Xihe drove the sun each day in a chariot drawn by six dragons. When the sun reached the springs of Yu, Xihe arrived there and turned back. The subsequent description of crystal was extravagantly luxurious as well. These two lines were clearly associated with immense wealth.

The first two couplets alone had already revealed the extraordinary nature of this person—someone who possessed boundless wealth and had saved countless lives like a divine being.

As for the latter lines, Li Si, Pingyuan, and the Sage were all illustrious figures of antiquity. At first glance, they seemed to have little in common, but on closer examination, their connection was profound.

Whether it was Li Si, Pingyuan—meaning Qu Yuan—or Confucius, the Sage whose influence had extended deeply into later generations, all of them had served the machinery of the state. Each had been an outstanding political thinker, and each had been one of the great revolutionaries of his age.

Taken together, the lines spoke of healing the sick and saving lives, possessing immeasurable wealth, and governing the state. Though there appeared to be no obvious logic linking them, they in fact pointed directly to one conclusion: the person destined for this connection possessed abilities so immense that he could almost sway the great currents of history.

At that thought, fine beads of sweat broke out across Li Zisheng’s back and forehead.

The Academy of Heavenly Secrets was truly terrifying.

If he managed to rise to a position higher than that of a high official in the Great Tang, he might genuinely be able to influence the course of history. After all, he knew the direction in which the Great Tang would develop and was aware of many events that might occur in the future.

But Li Zisheng was no reckless youth. Although this old gentleman clearly possessed a profound sense of justice, he was certainly not blind or impulsive. The information provided by the Academy of Heavenly Secrets was an extremely important secret, yet the old man had made no attempt to conceal it and had handed it directly to Li Zisheng for inspection.

One possibility was that the old man’s mind had already reached a realm beyond ordinary understanding and that he was simply an exceptionally broad-minded man. But judging from his unwavering faith in the Academy of Heavenly Secrets, that explanation seemed unlikely.

The second possibility was that this act had been authorized by the Academy itself. It had instructed the old man to let Li Zisheng read the message, perhaps in order to tell him that the Academy already knew of his existence and was aware of his abilities.

It was warning him not to act rashly. Otherwise, it was entirely possible that he would meet his end and vanish without a trace.

The meaning behind it was unmistakable: this was a warning.

After analyzing the entire sequence of events, Li Zisheng was drenched in cold sweat. It felt as though an inexplicable surveillance device had suddenly appeared above his head, leaving him deeply uncomfortable. Whatever he did, it seemed that he was acting beneath another person’s watchful gaze.

But after calming himself, Li Zisheng reconsidered the matter. Perhaps the other party knew that he possessed such power, yet also understood that he needed countless forms of assistance. Only after reaching a sufficiently high position would he have the opportunity to display his talents.

In that case, the message was not primarily about him. The warning not to interfere with history was merely an appendage.

The true purpose, most likely, concerned the old man.