Much like the previous day, the old man took his time before answering him. "Good morning to you most gifted cultivator. May I have the privilege of spending a few moments with you?"
Once again Zhang Jian was shocked. He hadn't expected this from a man of this caliber. Zhang Jian had been too busy drowning in his questions that he failed to notice that the demeanor of the old man had changed. In the old man's eyes and tone was what appeared to be a new found respect for Zhang Jian. The poor Zhang Jian didn't know just yet how he was supposed to react to the adoration in the old man's eyes.
"Surely he couldn't have been impressed so much so that he had to track me down to my house? This is all too weird, am I missing something?" He thought. As he realized that he had been silent for some time now after the old man had greeted him and politely requested for his audience, Zhang Jian quickly returned the old man's greetings;
"Good morning most esteemed senior. It is a great pleasure to have you in my humble abode, please come in."
The old man smiled; "I assure you, the pleasure is all mine." And with that he walked in and sat down. The old man had chosen a vantage position that offered him a full view of the room and a direct line of sight to the entrance. This tactically brilliant move was not lost on Zhang Jian. As he moved to make some tea for his guest, the old man spoke again;
"I would be doing you a great injustice by not telling you the truth. . ." Zhang Jian froze at the mention of the word injustice, but the old man hadn't finished, he paused in a dramatic fashion before finishing his sentence; "Your work is pretty impressive."
He humbly smiled and responded; "I am humbled by your praise senior. Deeply humbled."
Zhang Jian was very much at a loss. He had waited for the old man to drop the bombshell by asking for his money back. Even though he was in his own home, the poor Zhang Jian found himself walking on eggshells. He never forgot the uncomfortable look the old man had gave him the day before.
The old man's voice came again and drove away Zhang Jian's thoughts to the back of his consciousness; "Pray do tell me your name gifted one."
"I am called Zhang Jian senior."
The mysterious in turn introduced himself; "And I am called Xiao Luo." Zhang Jian was genuinely impressed that this noble hadn't cared to use an elaborate title while he introduced himself. His tone and manner towards him had really changed since the last time they had spoken. The old man now regarded him as a fan would regard his idol. It was indeed very strange how the shift in the dynamic between them had changed dramatically within the space of just twenty four hours. The more Zhang Jian thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed that a noble such as himself would be enamored by Zhang Jian's calligraphy skills. He suspected that the old man was toying with him and would reveal his true motives soon. The younger man was beginning to thank himself for not spending the fortune he had acquired from this old man. But the more the conversation went on, the more Zhang Jian believed that maybe, just maybe, the old man was for real. He soon relaxed and indulged old man Xiao.
"So Zhang Jian, where are you from?"
"Not where, when?"
"I beg your pardon?"
Zhang Jian quickly realized that he had mistakenly let on more than he was supposed to and withdrew his comment by changing the subject. The old man was no child, he noted his reply and kept it to himself. Eventually both men eased into a much friendlier mood and the tension in the air subsided as they conversed more freely.
"So, tell me Zhang Jian, where did you get the inspiration for the text in the calligraphy you sold to me?"
"Oh," Zhang Jian stroked his chin, "That was from the book of the Huainan Masters, it's a classic."
The old man did his best to disguise his interest, but his body language spoke volumes. His ears piqued when Zhang Jian said the word 'Masters.' He coughed slightly and subtly tried to wring out more information from Zhang Jian.
"That was an intriguing text Zhang Jian. It had a lot of depth and it was charged with a foreign kind of energy. Where could one find these masters as well as their books?"
Zhang Jian didn't even know where to begin. How could he explain that this book probably hadn't been written yet and the author hadn't been born as well?
"Well, that's a difficult question. While I do not know exactly where they are right now, it's safe to say that they cannot be reached at present."
"Ah," Xiao Luo exclaimed, "They sound like they are a mysterious bunch and quite possibly dangerous."
He said that last part hoping to stir Zhang Jian's reaction into betraying any form of emotion whatsoever. But his face retained its annoying blankness to the utter chagrin of the old man. Xiao Luo didn't hide his disappointment as Zhang Jian said;
"I guess you could say that."
Xiao Luo thought deep and hard on what Zhang Jian had said in the short time he had spent here. He had been cleverly elusive. He hadn't insinuated anything. It had been more about witty omissions and clever assertions. Xiao Luo knew that the younger man was simply being diplomatic, it was clear that he was actively concealing a lot of secrets. Xiao Luo suspected that he belonged to a certain order of powerful masters and that he had come here in disguise on a clandestine mission. His simple hut, simple clothes and simple speech could fool others but not him. He was more than adamant to find out the truth of this strangers origin and mission here. As his eyes danced around the house in a frantic search for clues, a very peculiar painting struck his eye. There, on the wall, hanging ever so perfectly was a painting of a valley with a dragon hovering and a swordsman pointing at it. Xiao Luo was flabbergasted. Zhang Jian stopped speaking and became apprehensive when he saw the old man's face turn white. He followed Xiao Luo's gaze and saw the painting he was looking at. Zhang Jian desperately tried to make sense of the situation. What was wrong with the painting? Old man Xiao soon found his voice and spoke in a low and subdued tone; "Where did you get that painting from?"
Zhang Jian didn't know what he meant by this question but he hoped the old man wasn't in any way trying to insinuate that he had stolen it.
"I painted it myself. It was on one of my firs-"
Xiao Luo didn't wait for him to finish and cut him off immediately with a question that conveyed nothing but utmost seriousness;
"How much would it cost to take it off your hands?"
Zhang Jian was taken aback by the sudden change in dynamic. The old man had suddenly turned businesslike. What did he see in such an ordinary looking painting anyway? Zhang Jian genuinely looked to see if he could see what the old man saw.
"Maybe I had been mistaken in my assessment of this era's knowledge of art."
Xiao Luo noticed Zhang Jian's frown as his eyes lingered on the painting. He thought Zhang Jian thought the painting too precious to sell and couldn't part with it. The old man made up his mind there and then to give him the full worth of the painting's value in gold.
"Gold is for ordinary men," he thought, "I must give him something befitting of his status."
He voiced his thought to Zhang Jian;
"I know you feel like you cannot part with such an exquisite painting. But I desire it with all my heart and therefore, I am more than willing to pay the full price." Before Zhang Jian could move, the old man whipped out a smaller purse than the one he had previously handed to Zhang Jian on the day they first met and presented it to him.
"Please accept this Zhang Jian. It was pretty insensitive of me to offer gold to someone of your status. I hope you consider this instead."
The old man spilled its contents and surprised Zhang Jian once again. Glittering precious stones sprawled all over the table and sparkled under the little rays of sun that had managed to filter through some openings. Completely at loss for words, Zhang Jian was once again amazed at the turn of events. Here was a man who had only patronized him once, tracked him down somehow, and was now once more offering him a fortune for an ordinary painting. He was flabbergasted. What was on the table could easily fund an entire lifetime of pleasure.
"Could it be that my work is really that good? I know I've gotten better since I came here, but that doesn't necessarily mean I became Picasso overnight."
Of a truth, Zhang Jian had given himself to the practice of solitude and silence and it had been an extremely beneficial experience. There was no doubting that his mental faculties had developed significantly and consequently, his creativity had enhanced as well. He didn't even need to go into meditation or clear his mind before embarked on a creative journey. He simply sat down with a paint brush and the rest followed. The end result was always encouraging, but was still far from a Pablo Picasso.
Zhang Jian willed himself to focus. He had promised to lead a simple life in this era. He had never been one to pursue great endeavors or magnanimous wealth. So long as he had enough to go on at every given time, he was content. But this old man was actively threatening to derail him from his path.
"Old man Xiao, I must successfully decline your offer. Please take this off the table."
Xiao Luo's eyes widened at the mere thought of the transaction for the painting not falling through. Before he could speak, Zhang Jian continued;
"I am afraid that these extravagant sums won't cut it anymore. I am not that kind of artist. And so, if you would have me, I prefer we barter instead."
Xiao Luo nodded his head in agreement so vehemently that the other man was afraid the old man's head would fall off.
"Of a truth, what you have said makes perfect sense Zhang Jian. This painting is too valuable for money. Gold and precious stones had been too forward. Forgive my forwardness."
That wasn't what Zhang Jian had been gunning for, but he took it anyway. Having established an understanding, old man Xiao asked Zhang Jian what he wanted in exchange for the painting. He paused for a minute and said;
"Truly I do not lack anything right now. But when I do need to cash in my favor, I will call on you."
Xiao Luo was an old man whose years on the earth had exceeded many who were presently alive. He knew the human nature and understood the unspoken things that were left unsaid in conversations. Zhang Jian had basically told him that he (Xiao Luo) was now in his debt. This had put the younger man in a position of power over the younger man. And by keeping the tab open, Xiao Luo had invited himself to a bondage situation. He shuddered as he thought about what Zhang Jian would want in the day he would come to collect. "Well, we shall cross that bridge when we eventually get there."
Zhang Jian had no idea what was going on in the tactical mind of the old man. He was simply glad to have found a polite way to tell him off.
"I will be on my way now Zhang Jian, much gratitude for your hospitality."
"Your company was much appreciated."
As they stepped out together in the front yard, the old man held out the painting underneath the full glare of the sun and boomed;
"Your cultivation skills are off the charts! Very astute! Incredible!"
Xiao Luo's praise left Zhang Jian more confused than flattered. Why was Xiao Luo commending him on his cultivated patch of land while looking squarely at the painting? Just when he thought he had figured out the ways of the ancients, they managed to invent interesting new ways to confuse him more and more with each passing day. Understanding them would prove to be a real herculean task. Zhang Jian stood as he watched Xiao Luo's figure recede slowly in the distance. As he turned, he saw Cerberus standing at a short distance away. It appeared to have been standing there for a while. Zhang Jian rebuked the dog;
"You have one job damn it, just one job! BARK when you see an intruder!" He knew it was just a dog, but he half expected a reply from it. When none came, the infuriated Zhang Jian reprimanded it again;
"I'm going to get you for this boy! No wonder your previous owner was so hard on you." Thus, Zhang Jian retired to his quarters to enjoy the rest of his day.
Over the next couple of days, the old man visited Zhang Jian regularly to purchase more paintings and calligraphy. Since Zhang Jian now had one loyal customer, he didn't see the need to go down to the valley every single day. He didn't stop completely altogether, he chose random days to visit his former place by the market road and frequently found a good deal. This was a far cry from the life he had been born into, but he appreciated the simple things of this lifetime and was taken in by the way of life here. Free from the technological and sociopolitical defects that plagued his own time, this place was all so peaceful, so quiet and so incredibly simple. His cabin in the mountain wasn't anything fancy, but it was a haven to him.
But Zhang Jian had one small problem now and he didn't know how to go about such a touchy subject since it had been him who brought about the issue by his hand. At the onset of their business dealings, he and Xiao Luo had reached an agreement earlier on concerning their mode of transaction. The barter system wasn't efficient, but Zhang Jian had expected the old man to do the needful by being considerate. Instead the old man had surprised him by offering him ordinary objects like an old wooden ruler that was next to useless given its overall look, the old man had also given him a doll (what in heaven's name did he need a doll for?!), three spoons that were clearly not new, a small box for keeping money (ironic because the old man knew Zhang Jian's thoughts on money), along with a few other nearly worthless things in exchange for his paintings. Zhang Jian knew his paintings weren't worth much, but he could tell that, for some odd reason, the old man valued them greatly for it was evident in the consistency of his visits and also in his open adoration for his work. He couldn't understand why Xiao Luo gave him these common object that were of little or practically no value to him.
On the old man's side, the spite on Zhang Jian wasn't intentional. Though he never voiced it out openly to Zhang Jian, the objects he gave in exchange for Zhang Jian's paintings and texts all belonged to great masters who were long dead. These were historical figures that Xiao Luo looked up to, so he had purchased their belongings from the custodians of history at the capital and added them to his collection. Each and every single one of them told a story in the process and journeys that made these legends myths, and it goes without saying that they all cost a fortune. Since he thought Zhang Jian to be a real master who would understand the value of these objects better than most, he offered them to him as the only reasonable things to trade in exchange for his paintings. Even though the value of these objects was lost on Zhang Jian, he kept his cool and continued to watch him.
On one faithful day, Zhang Jian was in his fields tending to his produce when Xiao Luo's shadow darkened the ground of the entrance to his estate. He lifted up his eyes from the ground and watched the old man as he approached. Zhang Jian thought to himself, "Heaven knows what he has in store for me this time. The straw hat he gave me last time was rather obscene."
Zhang Jian stood up straight and adjusted himself. As Xiao Luo drew closer, Zhang Jian noted the urgency in his step. It was very unlike him because Xiao Luo was a dignified character and his steps usually reflected that. But for some reason, he seemed to be in a hurry today. Zhang Jian wasn't sure why, but he knew that whatever it was that could make old man Xiao move in such a manner, it definitely wouldn't be good for him either. Zhang Jian wasn't looking forward to finding out so he greeted the old man cautiously as soon as he was within ear range.
"Morning blessings old man Xiao!"
Xiao Luo didn't reply him immediately until he finally came within reasonable talking distance with Zhang Jian;
"Morning Zhang Jian. I see you're busy."
"Yes I actually am about to . . ."
"Yes wonderful that's nice." He abruptly cut the other man off and Zhang Jian knew at once that something was amiss as soon as the well-mannered Xiao Luo cut him off mid speech. The old man continued in an urgent tone;
"Zhang Jian, I feel the concluding curtain is about to drop on me as my performance is almost over and I await my encore."
Normally, Zhang Jian would be annoyed by the old man's parables and symbolic meanings now, but it had an ominous ring to it even now. He set down his pitchfork and for the first time, drowned out the noise in his head as he struggled to wrap his head around the old man's portentous words.
"What do you mean old man Xiao? Did something happen?"
All Zhang Jian had were questions. Questions that the old man made no effort to answer. Instead he fumbled with a piece of cloth in his hand that seemed to conceal something. As he untied the piece of cloth, he unraveled the object he had shrouded with mystery. In it was a green rock that glowed, Zhang Jian had never seen one in the flesh but this was one of the precious stones in this era; jade.
The old man handed it to him hurriedly and spoke another set of gloomy words;
"Zhang Jian my friend," he began, "I entrust this to you. If I do not return in two moons, the ownership rights will automatically be transferred to you. You cultivation skills should keep you and the jade safe. Goodbye gifted one."
The goodbye was still in his mouth as he made his move to go, leaving Zhang Jian dumbfounded and clutching the precious gift in his hand. "Hold on, what just happened?" he thought, "The old man looks advanced in age but he still had commendable strength and an even stronger will to live. So what was he blabbering about 'if I do not return?' was he going somewhere?"
Zhang Jian had a lot of questions but before he could get a hold of himself to go after Xiao Luo. The old man had disappeared down the mountain's path.
"Dammit! How does he always do that!?"
Zhang Jian had completely lost the zeal to work after the old man's strange visit. Xiao Luo had always been a strange one, but today's dose of his daily strangeness was well over the top. Zhang Jian considered a lot of things;
1) If the old man was terminally ill, he wouldn't have given him the time frame of two moons for his return. Besides he looked physically fit for someone his age. Zhang Jian had pegged the old man as one who was pushing ninety but he knew he could also be much older.
2) The old man probably had an estate filled with vassals so why had he bothered with entrusting something that was clearly precious to him. He was no expert, but the jade that had been handed to him had the semblance of a very costly object.
So he knew without question that this was of great value. He couldn't keep it, if Xiao Luo didn't return, Zhang Jian made up his mind to seek out any of the old man's family members and do the right thing by handing it over to them.
3) And lastly, what had he meant by his cultivation skills would keep him safe? That was by far the weirdest thing for 'a dying man' to tell a dear friend.
Zhang Jian considered all of these things and knew that he would miss Xiao Luo greatly if indeed he was leaving this plain. The feeling of sadness overshadowed him as he thought of the fond times they had spent together. The intellectual sparring, the business dealings, the old man's lectures that Zhang Jian had been an unwilling participant of. He remembered when he had gifted an old book to Xiao Luo. The look on the old man's face had been priceless as he muttered (in a voice that was barely above a whisper) that it had been ages since anyone had given him a free gift. Zhang Jian had laughed as he told Xiao Luo not to overthink it and that it was just a book. The old man had wisely responded that the most costly things were those things that were given freely. Zhang Jian hadn't understood it then the way he understood it now. He clutched the jade to his chest and went into his house to keep it in a safe place. A place that it would stay till the old man came back for it.
Some time passed after that incident and Zhang Jian waited patiently for any sign of the old man at all. Some times he would wander into town and combed through the places that the nobles of the time usually frequented. He searched and searched but he saw no sign of the old man. Days turned into weeks as Zhang Jian frantic search turned out nothing. He began to doubt his own memory and thought because he had been alone for a long time, maybe he had hallucinated the events of the past week. Zhang Jian would have suspected psychedelic activity but since he generally avoided anything that could mess with his senses, he ruled out that option. It was infuriating having to search for someone who had been close to him for a relatively short time. Old man Xiao was the only one who had connected with Zhang Jian on a deeper level. Although he had only just met the old man, Zhang Jian felt like he had known him all his life. It was strange. But what annoyed Zhang Jian right now was that he had only just realized that he knew so little about his dear friend. He didn't know where he lived, he didn't know what clan he came from. He just realized that the old man never for once mentioned kids, grandkids or even a sibling or spouse.
"Are you kidding me? What exactly did we spend hours chatting away on?"
Zhang Jian's sudden realization was one of the fundamental defects of the traditional male. Indeed, it was one of the core problems that plagued male friendships. Men often had no problems hanging out with each. They could meet, talk and bond over the most insignificant things and still somehow manage to neglect the things that mattered the most. Now more than ever. The typical man could be friends with another man for years and still not know his surname. Whereas the truth of this stereotype had been bastardized over the years as painted as a fallacy for sociopolitical reasons, now more than ever, Zhang Jian could feel the overwhelming weight of this truth bearing down on him. If he should get the chance to meet the old man again, Zhang Jian swore to find out all that he could about him. He knew he meant it at that moment, but deep down he also knew that nothing would change if he ever found Xiao Luo again.
Zhang Jian retired to his house and holed himself in. For weeks on end, nobody came to visit him. He didn't mind the loneliness, but he was reminded constantly of the absence of his dear friend. For Xiao Luo had breathed life into his social life. Slowly, Zhang Jian began to heal up as he took comfort in the fact that no matter the trouble, Xiao Luo's sound mind, strong will and strength of character would prevail. For a long time, no one came to visit Zhang Jian. So he focused on cultivating his farm and was pleased by the progress he had made, the seedlings were now maturing on the rich soil and under the rays of summer's sun. His rice and wheat farm was thriving pleasantly and Zhang Jian knew that he was going to have a bountiful harvest. He tended to the land and managed to clear his mind of his worries. His home still remained devoid of any social interactions and he gradually became accustomed to it. He conducted his business in the valley below, but not with the vigor and energy as before. Customers came and went. Once in a while, he chanced the occasional wealthy noble who wanted his services, but none came close to Xiao Luo's personality. And so, at the closure of every business day, Zhang Jian would pack up his wares and head into the sun set with a disappointing look on his face. Just when Zhang Jian had given up on ever hearing the sound of another human beings steps on his estate, fate surprised him and brought another guest into his life. This time it was not an old man, neither was it the likes of the kind old lady who had shown him kindness, this time it was a companion that was more suitable for Zhang Jian.