Chapter Sixty-Four: Qin and Han Hemp Paper?

Li Zisheng entered the tunnel. It was unclear how the passage was illuminated, yet the entire space was filled with a brilliant glow. Upon closer inspection, Li discovered that the light emanated from night-luminescent pearls—treasures of inestimable value. History records that King Wei once boasted to King Qi of having ten such pearls, each an inch in diameter, capable of illuminating twelve carriages both in front and behind. The legendary Moon Pearl, three feet in diameter, could cast its light across a thousand miles. While the pearls in this tunnel were not quite as hyperbolic as those descriptions, they were nonetheless mesmerizing.

Li Zisheng opened the box the portly shopkeeper had given him. True to the man's word, it contained a book and a folded scroll. The scroll, clearly aged, lay atop the ancient tome. Li unfolded it to reveal a painting of a young woman picking apricot blossoms on a verdant hillside, with a small market town nestled at the base of the mountains in the distance.

"Spring rain brightens the hill overnight, and by morning, apricot blossoms fill the narrow lanes."

Though Li Zisheng could not fully grasp the deeper meaning, the painting’s mood and coloring captured the essence of a scholar’s first encounter with a maiden—a state of utter enchantment. It seemed the portly shopkeeper was a romantic at heart.

Li set the scroll aside and turned his attention to the ancient book, which had been placed upside down. He could only see the cover, which was yellowed with age. Recalling the shopkeeper's dying instructions, Li sensed the book was no ordinary object. He carefully lifted it and turned it over. A fine layer of dust obscured the title, but as he gently blew it away, four large characters became clearly visible.

"Sacrifices of Heavenly Destiny."

"Again? Another 'Sacrifices of Heavenly Destiny'?" Li mused. "The old man claimed I was a person of destiny and gave me one. Then, at Mr. Zhong’s camp, I inexplicably received another. Now, here in the shopkeeper’s Sanwei House, I find a third. Is there truly a connection between me and this book?"

"No," he thought, "where there is anomaly, there is mischief. Why does this book keep falling into my hands without fail? It is deeply suspicious."

Li touched the other two copies in his satchel. The shopkeeper’s version was noticeably thicker and appeared significantly older. What exactly was this "Sacrifices of Heavenly Destiny"?

Li lamented his limited knowledge of seal script; he could not decipher the contents. Yet, the fact that he possessed three different editions of this same work was baffling. Just how many copies existed, and what lay behind them? The individuals involved—the elder who could mobilize the empire's great scholars, Mr. Zhong who represented Commissioner Zhang, and the shopkeeper who backed the massive Sanwei House—all represented powerful forces. That they all possessed this book and spoke of it in such cryptic, hesitant terms was highly suspect.

Li tucked the third book into his satchel, which now felt quite heavy, burdened further by the three books his teacher had previously gifted him.

"Bali," he called out, "the shopkeeper prepared plenty of food and drink here. Let’s eat; I’m hungry."

Bali immediately began searching for supplies. Li marveled at the tunnel’s infrastructure—it was fully equipped with food, furniture, and even a latrine. He did not know how the Sanwei House had constructed such a facility, but it was undoubtedly an extraordinary feat of effort and ingenuity.

Bali’s efficiency was commendable; in no time, he had prepared a delicious, aromatic meal.

The two ate heartily in the tunnel. While this was not the first time Li had seen someone die before his eyes, he was still deeply unsettled, and the food served as a necessary comfort to steady his mind.

The shopkeeper had told him to wait four days before leaving, and there was surely a reason for this. The assassination had been sudden and unexpected. The Sanwei House was a colossal entity, and the attackers must have known this, yet they proceeded anyway, suggesting careful planning. The presence of a Turkic assassin did not necessarily mean this was a Turkic conspiracy. In the Great Tang, the military was a melting pot of many ethnic groups; one or two Turkic individuals were not enough to draw a definitive conclusion. It was likely a diversion intended to cast suspicion elsewhere.

Li and Bali counted the days in the tunnel. When the fourth day arrived, Li, ever cautious, decided to wait one extra day before venturing out, ensuring he would not walk into a trap.

During these five days, Li compared the three books, searching for any seal script characters he might recognize. In five days, he identified only a handful. Many characters differed significantly from those he had seen in his own time, making them difficult to decipher. However, he did notice a distinction: the shopkeeper’s book used the "Great Seal" script—the gold and drum scripts used before the Qin Dynasty—while the copies from Mr. Zhong and the old man used the "Small Seal" script established by Qin Shi Huang during the standardization of writing. The books were from different eras, yet Li was certain their contents could be traced back to the Qin period.

Moreover, the material of the books was distinct from modern paper, resembling the hemp paper used before Cai Lun’s improvements—a type of paper Li had seen in museums, dating back to the Qin and Han dynasties.

Everything aligned. These three ancient books had likely been passed down since that distant age, making their value truly immeasurable.