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Chang Lin had originally planned to head north to avoid disaster, intending to seek refuge with relatives in Shangdang. However, he admitted that he hadn't been in contact with them for many years and wasn't entirely sure about their current situation.
Coincidentally, Fei Qian recalled that Cui Jun had mentioned serving as the governor of Xihe Commandery. So he took out paper and brush, wrote a letter of introduction, and handed it to Chang Lin. If Chang Lin couldn't find his relatives in Shangdang, he could at least temporarily settle in Xihe.
After all, during the Han Dynasty, as long as one belonged to the scholar-official class, they possessed some degree of knowledge and could handle civil administration to some extent. Fei Qian wasn't worried that recommending Chang Lin to Cui Jun would cause any trouble—in fact, Cui Jun might even be delighted!
Xihe Commandery was located on the frontier of the Han Dynasty, frequently clashing with the Xianbei tribes. Many scholar-officials had already relocated due to the unstable environment, so a new addition to Xihe's civil administration would undoubtedly lighten Cui Jun's workload. Strictly speaking, Cui Jun might even owe Fei Qian thanks.
Naturally, Chang Lin was overjoyed. After repeatedly expressing his gratitude, he took his leave to prepare for the journey the next day.
After seeing Chang Lin off, Fei Qian sat alone in his tent, lost in thought. There were still some things he couldn't quite figure out.
Take Zhuge Kongming's nickname—"Crouching Dragon." Whether written or spoken, it sounded majestic and impressive. Then there was that dark-skinned fellow Pang Tong's moniker—"Fledgling Phoenix." Though a young phoenix, it was still one of the four legendary divine beasts of antiquity, carrying an aura of mystique. But…
Why was he given the title "Hidden Whale"?
"Hidden Whale"?
It felt slightly awkward!
Fei Qian's eyelids twitched involuntarily.
Kongming had a dragon—a creature that commanded clouds and rain, appearing and vanishing at will. Pang Tong had a phoenix—a divine bird adorned with six symbols and nine ornaments, its cry resonating across the winds. Both were undeniably impressive. And him?
Just a giant whale lurking in the depths of the ocean, whose greatest feat was occasionally surfacing to blow a bubble. When he thought about it this way, it really felt…
Did Master Shui Jing see in him the potential to become a "salted fish"?
Fei Qian chuckled self-deprecatingly. However, judging from Chang Lin's recounting of Master Shui Jing's praise, the nickname was likely meant in a positive light.
Still, he hadn't met Master Shui Jing many times. Why would the master hold him in such high regard? In the Han Dynasty, travel relied on walking, and reputation spread by word of mouth. Now that Master Shui Jing had "shouted" his name, even if the title wasn't ideal, at least he had gained some recognition.
Master Shui Jing was a Sima, and there was another Sima in Henei. These two Simas…
Though that second Sima was probably still a snot-nosed kid by now.
Fei Qian's thoughts drifted far away—from his initial disorientation upon arriving in the Han Dynasty to gradually integrating into this era. He wondered whether the people and events of the Han were changing him, or whether he would change the Han. Perhaps both…
Night slowly fell. After days of exhaustion and a soak in the hot springs, Fei Qian's mind was still somewhat excited by his new title, but his body's weariness relentlessly urged his eyelids to close. Eventually, he succumbed to the whispers of sleep and drifted off.
While Fei Qian slept soundly, Huang Zhong and Huang Cheng took turns keeping watch. Out of respect for Huang Zhong, Huang Cheng usually chose the more grueling second half of the night, leaving the relatively easier first half to Huang Zhong.
In truth, keeping watch—whether early or late—was always taxing. But those on the second shift had to rouse themselves from sleep in the dead of night and endure the coldest hours before dawn, making it far less comfortable than the first shift.
Huang Zhong touched the records tucked in his robe. The closer they got to Luoyang, the more conflicted he felt. He both hoped to find a skilled physician in the capital who could treat his son's illness and feared that greater hope would only lead to greater disappointment. His heart was tangled in contradictions.
Huang Zhong hadn't always had only this one son. He'd had another son and a daughter before, but the heavens had cruelly reclaimed those fragile young lives far too soon…
After painstakingly raising his remaining son, the boy had contracted this stubborn lung ailment. Over the years, Huang Zhong had exhausted not only his family's savings but also nearly all his strength and spirit.
He still remembered when a typhoid outbreak had ravaged Jingxiang. The scholar-official families had hoarded physicians for their own households, leaving the common folk struggling to find medical help…
Back then, Huang Zhong had searched desperately before finally securing a prescription for his son. But whether it was due to delayed treatment or not, the illness had persisted to this day.
The helplessness he'd felt—his immense strength utterly useless in the face of his son's suffering—had left him with a deep-seated resentment toward the scholar-official class.
Yet Fei Qian seemed to be an exception, challenging Huang Zhong's long-held prejudices.
He glanced at Fei Qian, peacefully asleep on a bed of dry grass. This son-in-law of the Huang family patriarch was truly different. Master Shui Jing had even dubbed him "Hidden Whale," indicating high regard.
Patriarch Huang's choice of son-in-law had been remarkably astute. Fei Qian's behavior was indeed unlike that of other scholar-officials.
Having studied under Cai Yong and later Pang Degong, no one could doubt Fei Qian's mastery of the classics. Yet he could converse effortlessly with both scholar-officials and illiterate soldiers alike…
Though he might not have been raised in luxury, even when forced to eat coarse field rations during travel, he'd only frown slightly before eating without complaint…
Huang Zhong sensed something almost Mohist in Fei Qian's character—perhaps influenced by Patriarch Huang Chengyan? Such traits were rarely seen in other scholar-officials.
During their journey, even standing outside the hall, Huang Zhong had sensed the unspoken arrogance exuded by the Yuan family, the foremost scholarly clan of the realm…
And at Suanzao, he'd witnessed supposedly renowned regional lords bickering like country bumpkins beneath the altar…
Moreover, Fei Qian's earlier account of a famed noble family refusing the imperial decree through underhanded means had left Huang Zhong disheartened.
Were these the scholar-officials entrusted with shepherding the people on behalf of the Son of Heaven?
How could such families ever bring stability to the common folk?
Huang Zhong couldn't help but wonder: if there were more scholar-officials like Fei Qian—those willing to stand closer to the people—perhaps life would be better for men like him?