Chapter 603: Star-Leading

The sea at night feels far more terrifying than by day — deep, unknown, hiding countless dangers. Even the most seasoned old fishermen rarely sail after dark.

Yet on the first day of the fifth month, in the waters off Qingdao Harbor, a tower ship shuttled through the night, drawing farther and farther from land until it hung alone upon the vast, boundless ocean.

It was a moonless night. The men aboard looked up to find the sky clear and cloudless, the view immensely open. In the night sky, as deep as the sea itself, stripped of the competing glow of city and human lamplight, the starry river of the Milky Way shone with extraordinary clarity.

But staring too long made one's eyes blur. Wei Yang gazed for quite a while, until his eyes ached and the stars all muddled together, hard to tell apart one by one. By order of the Commandery Governor, their group of literate officials, when not out at sea, studied under Xu Fu, learning his "Art of Star-Leading."

Xu Fu, however, never got confused. To a master of esoteric arts, though the heavenly river of stars stretched boundlessly vast, and though to others the countless stars seemed as innumerable as grains of sand, to his eyes they were as familiar as the lines on his own palm.

"That is the Northern Dipper, the Seven Stars of Bei Dou."

Xu Fu raised a finger toward a line of stars on the horizon. His fingertip traced an imaginary line, linking them together as he named each one in turn.

"Tian Shu, Tian Xuan, Tian Ji, Tian Quan, Yu Heng, Kai Yang, Yao Guang — the seven stars linked together form the shape of the wine ladle used at feasts."

"It truly does look just like one." The young men nodded, and some found themselves craving wine.

Xu Fu went on: draw a straight line between Tian Xuan and Tian Shu, which sit on the ladle's bowl, then extend it five times the distance in the direction of Tian Shu, and you will find a star of such dazzling brightness that it dims all others around it.

"That is the North Star — it dwells in its place, and all the host of stars revolve around it!"

The sea stretches boundless, without edge or shore, leaving one lost between east and west. By day there is the sun, but once night falls, you must advance by the stars. The North Star is the guardian star of every seafarer. It sits at the north celestial pole, its position nearly unchanging, and by it one can discern direction. The "Star-Leading Art" that Xu Fu was to teach them all is likewise performed around the North Star.

"Tonight there is no moon — a perfect time for star-leading. Let each of you take a measurement."

Every officer on this tower ship held a "star-leading board." Made of ebony, twelve boards in all, they folded together like a fan. The largest was the twelve-finger board, the smallest the one-finger board.

After over a month of study, Wei Yang was long familiar with this. He held the star-leading board by the center of one end with his left hand, stretched his arm straight, and sighted the starry sky, keeping the board's face perpendicular to the sea's horizon, measuring the North Star's height above the water. Different heights could be matched by swapping and adjusting among the twelve wooden boards and the four notched ivory pieces.

Beside him, two assistants stood ready — one holding a flame for light, the other recording the measured data on paper for him.

Taking measurements on a rocking, swaying deck was no easy task. Once done, the men returned to the cabin. Using the measured heights and the formulas from *The Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art* committed to memory, they calculated the angle between the North Star and the ground, then handed the results to Xu Fu.

Xu Fu examined them one by one, mocked those whose measurements were off, and sent them back out to measure again — but he praised Wei Yang:

"Wei Yang's measurement is still the most accurate!"

His colleagues' gazes fell on him — some envious, some disdainful. Wei Yang bit his lip and said nothing. He, too, felt that Xu Fu was deliberately singling him out for praise. The reason went without saying: his uncle was the Commandery Governor and Army Supervisor. Arranging for Wei Yang to serve as a tower-ship officer this time was very much meant to gild his path and pave his way.

Xu Fu laid an enormous wooden plate upon the table. This was the "Tai Yi Nine Palaces Divination Plate," a treasured heirloom of Xu Fu's family, and the secret to how he could treat the vast sea like a smooth road. Originally it was only passed down to sons and disciples, but under Heifu's coercion, Xu Fu could only swallow his heartache and bring out the skills he had kept at the bottom of his trunk, teaching them to these young military officers who called him "Master Xu."

The divination plate had a lacquered wooden body, its structure divided into two parts: the Heaven Plate and the Earth Plate. The large outer square plate was the Earth Plate; the round plate set within it was the Heaven Plate. On the Heaven Plate, the handle of the Dipper was marked at the center, pointing to the Celestial Handle. Next came the twelve chronograms, and arrayed within were the twenty-eight lunar mansions and the four axial corners.

The Earth Plate, in turn, was marked with the twelve chronograms, the eight stems, the five phases, the thirty-six spirit beasts, and the four corners of Heaven's Gate, Earth's Door, Man's Gate, and Ghost's Road.

As he taught Wei Yang how to match the previously measured data against the scales on the Heaven and Earth Plates to derive direction, Xu Fu could not help but sigh with deep emotion. For this object's original use was not to measure direction at all — it was to divine fortune and misfortune!

Long ago, as early as the Spring and Autumn period, the tortoise-shell divination master Wei Ping, when telling the fortune of Duke Yuan of Song, "looked up to heaven and observed the moon's light, watched where the Dipper pointed, fixed the sun's position, used compass and square as aids, supplemented with beam and balance. Once the four corners were set and the eight trigrams faced one another, he examined their fortune and misfortune — the shelled creature revealed it first."

In short, this object was mainly used to tell fortunes and divine luck. Tortoise-shell diviners traveled the land, and according to the distribution of the stars, they divided the world into the "Twelve Field Allocations." They also discovered that in different regions, the distance between the North Star and the ground varied. For instance, in the land of Yan, under the "Tail and Winnowing Basket" allocation, and the land of Chu, under the "Wings and Axletree" allocation, the difference in distance was enormous.

Yet in the southern part of the land of Zhao, under the "Turtle Beak and Triad" allocation, and the land of Qi, under the "Rooftop and Void" allocation, the angle between the North Star and the ground was nearly identical!

Thus, beyond astrology and fortune-telling, the Star-Leading Art gained another use: observing north-south position. On land, this was of little practical value — until it passed into the lands of Yan and Qi, into the hands of the esoteric arts masters, where it truly blazed with brilliance!

Xu Fu applied this art to long-distance voyaging. It was what he relied upon to make ten journeys beyond the seas. By constantly observing his position, he could tell whether his sailing route had deviated from its destination.

This body of knowledge, which the esoteric arts masters had once shrouded in deep mystery and held in awe, was, to put it plainly, actually quite simple.

"Feudal superstition and scientific technology are, in truth, a pair of twins…"

That was the sigh Heifu had made after listening to Xu Fu's explanation, and at the same time, he had resolved to spare Xu Fu's life.

Now, the astrology of old had been successfully whitewashed, transformed into "astronomical navigation."

Heifu even coined a name for this geographical coordinate that varied between north and south.

"Latitude!"

Xu Fu admitted that over the past ten-odd years, he had quietly measured the directional data of various points along the Yan-Qi coast, north and south, until he had covered seven or eight-tenths of it. Even the opposite shore, Joseon, had several points measured by him. Setting out from Jiaodong, exactly how to sail to reach the ports on the far shore accurately — Xu Fu knew it all like the back of his hand!

That was what Xu Fu knew. But the risk-taking, immortal-seeking voyages of an esoteric arts master were, after all, different from grain transport by sea, which had to guarantee stability and safety. They still had one big problem to solve: crossing the sea took two or three days. If they were unlucky enough to run into a starless, moonless night, what should they do if they drifted off course?

…

After finishing the twice-monthly star-leading practice, Xu Fu returned to Qingdao Harbor. The next day, Heifu arrived on an inspection tour and had Xu Fu take him to see how the secret project was progressing — the one being tinkered with by the esoteric arts masters who, after being "won over," excelled at "tending the furnace to summon things."

"Commandery Governor, that so-called south-pointer simply cannot point south."

The moment they entered, Xu Fu delivered this bad news to Heifu.

That's right — this secret project was to produce a device that could measure north-south direction even on cloudy, rainy days.

In this era, the lodestone was already known. *The Annals of Master Lü* says: "The loving stone beckons iron, as if drawing it near." There was also a legend in the former lands of the Six States that Qin Shi Huang had a great gate built of lodestone in his Xianyang Palace, and anyone passing through bearing a blade would be sucked onto it…

That was, of course, nonsense. The swords of Qin were mostly bronze; building a lodestone gate wouldn't have been much use.

The esoteric arts masters, however, were quite interested in this amusing substance. It was an essential prop for their trickery and mysticism — telekinetically moving objects from a distance and the like — tricks these fellows had played plenty of times.

Heifu's goal was clear: he wanted to use the lodestone to make a compass. The esoteric arts masters, however, raised different opinions.

Some thought they should build the legendary "south-pointing chariot" once used by the Yellow Emperor. Others thought they should use the "south-pointer" recorded in ancient texts but now lost to the world.

After some thought, Heifu divided the esoteric arts masters into three groups: seven or eight men to work on the compass, the rest on the south-pointer and the south-pointing chariot.

Under one enterprise, splitting the same project into several workshops for healthy competition was a good approach. These esoteric arts masters would have great use in the future, and Heifu hoped they could develop their own ideas, not just be yes-men.

"If that were the case, wouldn't it be more convenient for me to just find illiterate craftsmen?"

Even if they were wrong, they could still try. Who knew whether a failed project, with a little modification, might not turn into some black technology?

The results, however, proved that the south-pointer and the south-pointing chariot were both idealized fancies. Those men spent months and a great deal of labor, grinding lodestone transported from Ci Mountain in Wu'an County, Handan Commandery, into spoons and placing them on polished bronze mirrors, hoping the spoon handles would point south.

But the awkward truth was, after staring for ages, the "south-pointer" simply would not move.

And no wonder — that feeble magnetic force was far weaker than the forces of gravity and friction. It would be a miracle if it *did* move!

The south-pointer project team declared failure. Next door, the "south-pointing chariot" team fared even worse. The esoteric arts masters and craftsmen tinkered endlessly but simply could not produce a divine device that would automatically point south no matter which way it turned. They could only call it quits in embarrassment.

In the end, it was the "compass" Heifu had designated that showed some results.

An ordinary sewing needle, rubbed repeatedly against a natural lodestone, could be imbued with magnetism. Though the esoteric arts masters could not fathom the principle behind it, that did not stop them from using it.

Xu Fu had someone demonstrate two methods of use for Heifu: threading the magnetized needle through a few strands of lampwick and floating it on the surface of a wooden basin of water, or coating it with a little wax, attaching a strand of silk, and hanging it in a place free of wind…

And there it was — the sharp tip of the needle, guided by some "mysterious force," turned slightly, the sharp end always pointing south, though some pointed north.

Xu Fu explained: "This is likely due to differences in the nature of the stone, causing the south and north orientations to be opposite. There ought to be a distinction in principle, but we have not yet examined it deeply…"

"Is this roughly the difference between the N-pole and the S-pole?"

Although Heifu was still not entirely satisfied with these extremely crude south-pointing and north-pointing needles, what they were undertaking was not a voyage spanning thousands of miles across the distant ocean, but merely a brief sea crossing of a few hundred miles. The compass would only serve as a supplement to the star-guiding technique, kept for unforeseen needs.

Such a compass could not compare to those of later ages, but nothing is ever perfect from the very start.

Of the two methods, Xu Fu recommended the suspended-thread method more, because the greatest drawback of the water-floating method was that the water surface easily shook and affected the measurement results—and on a ship at sea, the rocking was far from trivial.

Xu Fu also said that he had specially made comparisons by day and night against the positions of the sun and the North Star, and discovered that the pointing of these south-pointing and north-pointing needles, though generally north-south, still had a slight deviation, and no matter how he adjusted them, it could not be eliminated.

"A slight deviation is of no great consequence."

Heifu knew this was geomagnetic declination, but for the moment, he could not explain it clearly to Xu Fu. Such theoretical matters were better left to the great scientist Zhang Cang to delve into.

"It is sufficient. Prepare more magnetic needles, so that every ship has several, and then teach the officers of the tower ships how to use them. Compared to the art of star-guiding, this object is simple—literate or illiterate, anyone can learn it!"

……

After inspecting the projects of the alchemists and technicians, Heifu went outside. This harbor he had personally named Qingdao Port no longer resembled the fishing village of old; accumulated over days and months, it had become a bustling seaport.

"Heap earth to form a mountain, and wind and rain will arise; gather water to form a deep pool, and dragons will be born."

Feeling the sea breeze, Heifu could not help but sigh. What he was doing now was nothing more than the process of heaping earth to form a mountain, gathering water to form a deep pool.

The monsoon, the ocean currents, the compass, latitude, celestial navigation—all this knowledge that the alchemists had hoarded and concealed had now been pried out by Heifu and made public. And the first batch of seamen equipped with this knowledge were now undergoing training…

The material foundations necessary for ocean voyages were being completed one by one. What was still missing?

The most critical, the most essential thing was still missing.

"Profit!"

A voyage that could not bring profit to the world, or at least to the people of Jiaodong—what difference was there between that and the alchemists spending vast sums to seek immortals overseas? Once that initial surge of momentum passed, even the mightiest fleet would run aground and rust. Where they had explored, the farthest point they had reached—all of it would become meaningless, leaving only the regretful sighs of later generations.

"If only they had gone a little farther, if only that stirring voyage to the Western Ocean could have continued on and on… if only…"

History has no "if only." Only profit can drive people to explore ceaselessly.

But Heifu truly could not see, at this moment, what profit voyaging overseas could bring to the Central Plains, beyond satisfying Qin Shi Huang's vanity and Heifu's own mischievous delight in playing out historical memes.

"Perhaps after this cross-sea expedition, we might find it?"

By now, the naval forces had trained for a long time, the grain had been stockpiled, the large wooden ships built at Qingdao crowded the harbor, and now the "navigation system" had been sorted out. Truly, everything was ready, lacking only…

Just as Heifu was deep in thought, on the "wind-indicator" beside him, the long banner streamed high and fluttered, and the wind chimes tied to it jingled and rang, producing a lovely sound!

"Uncle!"

Wei Yang, who was outside keeping watch over the wind-indicator, showed a delighted expression and shouted toward Heifu:

"The wind has risen! It's the monsoon, the south wind!"

PS: The Taiyi Nine-Palace Divination Board was unearthed in 1977 from the Western Han tomb of the Marquis of Ruyin at Shuanggudui, Fuyang County, Anhui. It may have been used by Xiahou Ying or his descendants for fortune-telling.