Han Ji

In the spring of the fourth year of the Xiping era, at the foot of Mount Goushi, the wind still carried a biting chill.

The carriage stopped outside a secluded courtyard halfway up the mountain. The courtyard had blue bricks and gray tiles, and the wooden gate was ajar. Faint sounds of recitation could be heard from inside, mixed with the sound of rustling pines, but not clearly audible.

Liu Bei and Liu Deran got out of the carriage and straightened their clothes, which had been wrinkled from the long journey. The mountain wind was cold and harsh, making their faces feel tight.

Liu An stepped forward and knocked on the door knocker.

A moment later, the door creaked open a crack, and a boy wearing a faded white robe peeked out, his eyes clear and scrutinizing.

"Liu Bei and Liu Deran of Zhuojun, on the orders of my uncle Liu Yuanqi, have come to pay our respects to Master Lu and present our visiting cards and letters of recommendation." Liu Bei stepped forward and presented the visiting cards and letters of recommendation that he had prepared in advance with both hands.

The boy took it, glanced at it, and said, "Wait here." Then he turned and went inside, gently closing the door behind him.

The two stood silently outside the door. The recitation from inside the courtyard became clearer; the voices were young, yet carried a deep and resonant quality.

The wind grew colder. Liu Deran couldn't help but stamp his foot and whispered, "Xuande, what if Master Lu...?"

"Don't make a sound." Liu Bei stared at the wooden door, standing ramrod straight.

After a while, the wooden door opened again, and the same boy appeared: "The master wants you to come in."

The two took a deep breath and stepped into the courtyard.

The courtyard was small but extremely clean. There were a few simple houses and several old pine trees in the yard. The main hall door was open, and one could vaguely see a person kneeling on a mat, his posture upright.

The hall was brightly lit. Lu Zhi knelt on the prayer mat at the head of the table. His face was thin, and his eyes, though not fierce, seemed to pierce through flesh and see right into one's heart. He wasn't wearing official robes, just a simple scholar's robe, yet his imposing presence was more imposing than any elaborate attire.

"Student Liu Bei (Liu Deran) pays his respects to Master Lu."

The two men dared not delay, quickly stepped forward, and respectfully held their calling cards and letters of recommendation high above their heads before handing them over.

Lu Zhi took the letter, his gaze first sweeping over the letter of recommendation, which was in Liu Yuanqi's handwriting. He nodded slightly, then looked at the name card. When he saw the words "Liu Bei," his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly, before quickly returning to normal. He put down the document, not asking any questions immediately, but instead carefully examining the two men below.

Liu Deran was well-behaved and had impeccable posture, a testament to his strict upbringing. Liu Bei, standing beside him, was taller and equally respectful, but beneath that respect lay an untamed wildness. Behind his lowered eyelids, his gaze was calm yet subtly gleaming.

Lu Zhi looked at Liu Bei: "Liu Bei."

"The students are here."

"I've heard you have some literary talent?" Lu Zhi's tone was flat, revealing no hint of praise or criticism. "Your poems 'Song of the Wanderer' and 'Farewell to Zhuojun' have recently been mentioned in Luoyang."

Liu Bei's heart skipped a beat, knowing that the test had begun. He replied respectfully, "This is just a humble work, born of some inspiration. I dare not accept your praise, sir."

Lu Zhi neither answered nor denied, but instead asked, "Why have you come to study?"

Liu Bei's mind raced. Flattery? Too vulgar. Talking about empty ideals? Too fake. He needed something that could move this pragmatic scholar.

He took a breath, raised his head, and met Lu Zhi's gaze: "To understand the ways of governing the world."

Without flowery language or empty rhetoric, just these seven words are clear and direct.

A faint hint of appreciation flashed in Lu Zhi's eyes, but it quickly disappeared. He then looked at Liu Deran.

Liu Deran was a little nervous, but he steadied himself and replied, "To...to bring glory to the family and live up to my father's expectations."

Lu Zhi nodded without commenting. He valued ambition and understood common sense.

"Manners and etiquette are essential for self-cultivation," Lu Zhi said, his gaze sweeping over the two men's postures and the angle of their clasped hands once more. Liu Bei was composed and proper; Liu Deran appeared slightly reserved, but there was nothing wrong with his manners.

"Your disciple will remember!" Liu Bei replied quickly, bowing.

Lu Zhi nodded slightly to the boy.

The boy brought over a tray containing dried meat strips that Liu Bei and his brother had each prepared.

The two men stepped forward, respectfully raised the tray above their heads, and presented it to Lu Zhi.

Lu Zhi reached out and took it, placing it on the table. This was considered a formal acceptance of the apprenticeship gift, establishing the master-disciple relationship.

"Now that you've entered my school, diligence should be your top priority, and self-cultivation your foundation." Lu Zhi's voice echoed in the hall, carrying an undeniable power. "Knowledge can be accumulated gradually, but character must be constantly tempered. Do you understand?"

"Understood!" the two replied in unison.

Lu Zhi took the register, dipped his brush in ink, and added the names "Liu Bei" and "Liu Deran." The brush tip grazed the paper with a soft scratching sound, and a brand new life began.

"The academy has its own rules." Lu Zhi put down his pen and began to explain the daily schedule: "Wake up at dawn, recite the classics aloud, and concentrate. From dawn to noon, listen to lectures or debate and ask questions. Eat and rest at dusk. Study and practice calligraphy at 3 PM, or exchange ideas with classmates. After dusk, have evening classes, organize your notes, and think quietly. No one may be absent without a reason, and no one may be lazy or procrastinate."

The rules were explained one by one, clearly and concisely. Liu Bei silently memorized them, not finding them difficult, but rather feeling a surge of novelty and anticipation. Everything here was completely different from Lousang Village.

After finishing the record, Lu Zhi called over an older disciple and instructed, "Take them to their lodgings, let them familiarize themselves with the surroundings, and get to know the people."

"Yes, teacher." The disciple bowed and accepted the order, then gestured for Liu Bei and his companion to enter.

Stepping out of the lecture hall, sunlight streamed into the courtyard. The senior student who led the way was quite talkative, pointing out various places as we walked: where the lecture hall was, where the dormitory was, where the dining hall was, and whispering reminders about which senior students were knowledgeable and which had a bit of an odd temper.

As they were talking, they rounded a corridor and saw a crowd gathered in the open space ahead, cheering and shouting. In the middle of the crowd, a young man in a brocade robe, with a lithe and agile figure, was practicing swordplay. The sword flashed, and his movements were graceful and beautiful, drawing cheers from the surrounding crowd.

The man finished his swordplay, stood still, sweat beading on his forehead, yet exuding confidence. His gaze swept across the crowd, meeting that of Liu Bei, who had just walked over.

Liu Bei looked at the man, who was about twenty years old, with a handsome face and a bold and unrestrained air about him, unlike any other scholar he had ever met.

The man also sized up Liu Bei, noting his tall stature, simple clothes, and composed demeanor, especially his clear, unwavering eyes. He grinned, walked over, and said in a cheerful voice:

"New junior brother? I am Gongsun Zan from Liaoxi, courtesy name Bogui. Judging from your solid footwork, you must be a trained fighter too?"

Liu Bei was surprised that his future Prefect of Beiping, this ruthless senior brother who dominated the north, was so straightforward. He felt a sense of goodwill towards him and replied with a cupped hand: "Liu Bei of Zhuojun, Liu Xuande. I know a little bit of basic swordsmanship, but I dare not compare myself with my senior brother."

Gongsun Zan laughed heartily and patted Liu Bei's shoulder forcefully: "Since we're fellow disciples, why be so polite! I like you, so if you ever need anything, just come to me!"

He had a strong grip, and his smile was incredibly infectious. Liu Bei smiled too, feeling a sudden warmth fill the unfamiliar, secluded dwelling.

This first meeting was simple and direct, yet it seemed destined from the start.