Chapter 412: Eight Trigrams

The deeper they went, the lower the houses became, brick homes gradually giving way to mud huts, and beside those mud huts, occasional thatched sheds had been erected.

The road began with blue stone slabs, but soon turned to dirt, pitted here and there, yet still dry and easy to walk on.

But where thatched sheds grew more numerous, the path narrowed and turned increasingly muddy.

Many households had built thatched sheds extending outward from their walls, occupying half the road.

Crying, shouting, scolding—voices tangled together, stimulating the mind and stirring emotions.

In the dim space, the sudden appearance of Zhu Qizhen and Zhu Qiyu—bright, clean, and normal—immediately drew everyone's attention.

The person sitting by the roadside twisting rope gazed at them with hollow eyes; people inside the houses and sheds also stepped out to stare curiously.

Zhu Qizhen felt his chest tighten involuntarily under their gaze.

He was no stranger to being watched—he had ascended the throne at nine, always under the public eye, and the stares of ministers and generals had long become routine—but now, being silently observed by dozens of ordinary commoners made him nervous and at a loss.

Pan Yun carried the banner out front, turning back to urge the five who were lagging behind: "Hurry up, we're not there yet."

Xue Shao had never been to Jingcheng's slums before and found them no different from those in other counties; he lowered his gaze and asked, "Where is Master Pan taking us?"

Pan Yun said with a meaningful smile: "To hear some interesting gossip."

Zhu Qizhen frowned: "Gossip?"

His eyes brightened slightly. "Does that mean there's a sage here who casts divinations?"

Pan Yun: "Not divination. Maybe you could call him a sage—he shares rumors he's heard or seen. That's what 'gossip' means."

Zhu Qizhen: "... What kind of gossip is this? The Eight Trigrams encompass all things, the vast universe—how can you reduce them to mere rumors?"

"Ah, it's a derived meaning, don't you see they're connected?" Pan Yun shook her head. "In ancient times, when Fu Xi ruled the world, he looked upward to observe the heavens, downward to observe the earth; he studied the patterns of birds and beasts and the suitability of the land; he took examples from his own body and from things afar, and thus created the Eight Trigrams, to comprehend the virtue of the divine and classify the sentiments of all things."

"So the Eight Trigrams classify the sentiments of all things. These rumors are born of the world, rise and fall with it—of course they belong within." Pan Yun said: "Lighten up, lighten up, don't be so serious."

Zhu Qizhen frowned, thought for a moment, and surprisingly found her argument reasonable.

"Who is this sage?"

"Just ahead, not far."

Three hundred meters ahead, turning a corner, was a well—the shared well for this entire slum.

Large stone slabs were laid flat around the well's edge, used for drawing water, washing vegetables, rinsing rice, and laundering clothes.

Thus, many people now sat around the well, leaving only two openings for people to enter and draw water; the rest of the space was taken up by laundry.

The advantage of washing here was that water could be used immediately after being drawn, without needing to carry it home.

The ground around the well was crowded with people washing clothes; behind them stood several wooden tubs filled with laundry, waiting in line.

Those waiting in line gathered nearby beneath a large banyan tree.

The banyan tree and the ancient well had carved out a half-football-field-sized open space, making this the gathering point for the entire neighborhood.

Even peddlers had come here specifically to set up stalls and sell goods.

This area had been kept remarkably clean; though the ground remained dirt, it was packed hard.

Despite so many people washing clothes, rinsing rice, and scrubbing vegetables, not a single water stain marred the path.

All water flowed down the stone slabs into drainage ditches—even Zhu Qizhen felt their affection for this place.

The moment Pan Yun appeared, carrying the banner, a child squatting on the ground tossing pebbles dropped them and ran up to her: "Master, I saved you a spot!"

Other children rushed over too, calling out: "My spot's better—use mine!"

Pan Yun waved her hand: "I've brought five friends today, so we need six spots."

The children cheered and immediately surrounded them, leading them to the banyan tree.

Around the banyan tree were many stones, and a stone platform encircled the trunk, all occupied.

As the children brought Pan Yun over, small children obediently stood up, waving their tiny hands: "Brother, brother, I'm right here!"

The older children pulled the small ones up, urging them to give their spots to Pan Yun; two other children tugged at the arms of two elders: "Grandpa, Grandpa, let Master Pan's friends sit here."

The elders chuckled, rising willingly and yielding their places.

Pan Yun pulled a paper packet from her sleeve, opened it, revealing over a dozen pieces of turmeric-yellow candy.

Each piece was as large as three fingers; she gave them six pieces.

The children cheered, clutching the candy; the older brother broke off a piece and shoved it into his younger brother's mouth, then broke off another for himself, hiding the rest wrapped in a leaf inside his chest.

The two other children also broke off a piece for themselves, handing the rest to their grandfathers and pressing them to their lips: "Grandpa, eat too." The elders turned their heads away, scolding: "Too sweet—I don't like this stuff. Save it. Take it home tonight for your brother and sister. Keep it for tomorrow."

The adults, annoyed by the children's noise, waved them off: "Take your candy and go play somewhere else."

The children ran off happily, candy in their mouths.

Pan Yun seated Zhu Qizhen and the other two on the stone platform, then stuck the banner into the ground and stood with her hands clasped.

People around her greeted her: "Little Master, back again to listen to stories?"

Pan Yun smiled and nodded.

Under the banyan tree sat about twenty people—elders, men, women, children.

Some sat on the stone platform, others on scattered rocks nearby; some children had even climbed into the banyan's branches.

Zhu Qizhen scanned them all: every garment bore patches; the children's faces wore carefree smiles, yet their complexions were sallow, their hair thin and brittle.

Even without being a physician, Zhu Qizhen knew they were suffering from hunger.

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The adults' faces were lined with wrinkles and freckles; though worry lingered in their brows, their expressions carried smiles.

They sat in small groups, chatting.

Zhu Qizhen couldn't help but strain his ears to listen.

Many elders spoke with heavy accents; he needed pauses to understand, but soon he adapted to their speech patterns—his ears automatically translated their words into terms he could comprehend.

Pan Yun, fearing Zhu Qizhen wouldn't understand, asked: "Young Master, can you understand their accents?"

"At first I couldn't, but after a few sentences, I got it," Zhu Qizhen said. "I've heard similar accents among my attendants—just not as strong."

He was talking about the court ministers.

The civil and military ministers of the court came from all corners of the land, so naturally they all had different accents.

Zhu Qizhen had a great talent for this: after hearing them a few times, he could not only understand their accents but even imitate them.

Pan Yun's gaze grew complex.

If not for the absence of any Qi fluctuation on him, she would almost have suspected he possessed the same innate ability as she did.

【But I'm no slouch either,】 Pan Yun thought silently to herself: 【I understand it on the first try—no need for a second. My talent is just that strong.】

Pan Yun bought six seats with sugar, but only Zhu Qizhen and Zhu Qiyu were actually sitting.

Cao Jixiang did not sit, and Yun Yan certainly wouldn't sit either; he looked up carefully at the tree branches above, confirmed the largest one was no more than an eleven- or twelve-year-old child, then lowered his gaze.

But he dared not relax.

There were too many people here, and all of them were strangers from the poor class.

Zhu Qizhen was now sitting right among this crowd. Yun Yan's Wu Gong was high—he was certain he could take on ten at once—but he wasn't sure he could protect the Emperor while doing so.

Pan Yun and Xue Shao also did not sit; they pulled up two elderly men squatting on the ground and made them sit again on the stone. Then Pan Yun asked, "Why is Uncle Tian taking so long today?"

The old man chuckled and explained, "This morning, he and his wife had a fight. She scratched his face, so he's probably too embarrassed to show up."

"Little Daoist, if Uncle Tian doesn't come out today, you probably won't hear any stories. But I'll tell you one—I've got a whole belly full."

"Don't make me laugh. What stories do you have? As a kid, you herded cattle for the landlord; as an adult, you worked as his laborer; you married a wife, had a son—and your son still herded cattle for the landlord. Then your son had a son, who became a laborer, and your grandson went out to herd cattle again. What's there to tell about a life like that?"

"That's right, yours are no fun at all. Little Daoist, listen to mine—I've done other things besides being a laborer."

Pan Yun first pulled a handful of copper coins from her sleeve and gave them to an old man, asking him to go fetch Uncle Tian to tell a story; then she casually asked the old man, "What kind of things have you done?"

"Me? I pulled military grain for Emperor Taizong. I even went to the battlefield and killed enemies," he said, his eyes crinkling with joy: "Little Daoist, just listen. We're not like Uncle Tian—I won't take your money. If you enjoy it, give me a free fortune reading, how about that?"

Pan Yun nodded. "All right."

The old man began recounting how he had been conscripted into the army, forced to haul grain as a laborer, and how, by sheer accident, he ended up fighting a group of northern barbarians on the front lines.

"The three of us killed one barbarian, took his head, and traded it to a Captain for three hundred copper coins—we each got a hundred. I kept that hundred tucked in my chest and brought it home. With just that hundred, I married a wife. Otherwise, I'd have been a bachelor all my life, hahaha…"

"You're proud of that? If you hadn't traded it for money but recorded it as military merit, you might be a general by now."

"Hahaha, I told my wife the same thing. She almost didn't marry the son of a future general."

"Get lost, you shameless old man. A general? You don't know how stingy he is—three hundred copper coins, from the northern border all the way back to Jingcheng, he didn't spend a single coin. When he got back, he was nearly dead from hunger, nothing left but skin and bones."

(End of Chapter)