Volume One: The Reliant Mountain Ancestor

Chapter 0001: The Scholar Meng Hao

　　The State of Zhao was a small nation, just like the other small countries on the southern continent, yearning for the Eastern Lands, yearning for the Great Tang, yearning for Chang’an. This was the admiration of the monarch, and also the ideal of Zhao’s scholars—just like the Tang Tower in the capital, standing as tall as the imperial palace, as if it could gaze across thousands of mountains and rivers toward the Eastern Lands and Chang’an.

　　In the season of April, it was neither cold nor unbearably hot. A gentle breeze brushed over the land, swept past the Qiang flute of the northern desert, blew through the Great Tang of the Eastern Lands, stirred up some dust like mist, and, under the setting sun at dusk, turned a corner and rolled onto the Great Blue Mountain at the edge of Zhao in the southern region, finally settling on a young scholar sitting at the mountain’s peak.

　　The youth was somewhat thin, holding a gourd in his hand, dressed in a clean blue scholar’s robe. He looked about sixteen or seventeen, not very tall, with somewhat dark skin, but his clear eyes held a hint of intelligence. Yet at this moment, his furrowed brow made that intelligence seem restrained, and his expression carried a trace of confusion.

　　"Failed the exam again..." the youth sighed. His name was Ethan Brooks, an ordinary scholar from Yunjie County at the foot of the Great Blue Mountain. His parents had suddenly disappeared when he was young, leaving behind little family wealth. In recent years, the cost of his studies had been high, and by now he was utterly destitute.

　　"I’ve taken the exam for three years. For three years, I’ve read those sages’ books every day, to the point of nearly vomiting. Could it be that the imperial examination really isn’t the path for my future?" Ethan Brooks mocked himself, lowering his head to glance at the gourd in his hand, his expression somewhat gloomy.

　　"The dream of becoming an official and a wealthy man is growing ever more distant, let alone going to the Great Tang of the Eastern Lands after getting rich... A scholar is useless in a hundred ways." Ethan Brooks gave a bitter smile, sitting quietly atop the mountain, staring at the gourd in his hand. The confusion in his eyes deepened, mingled with fear for the future and uncertainty about his own life. He didn’t know what he could do in the future, nor where his path lay.

　　Would some benefactor take notice of him? Would some noble lady suddenly fall for him? Or, after many years, would he still be endlessly taking the imperial exams?

　　There were no answers to these questions. For a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old youth, such confusion seemed to turn into a devouring maw, swallowing him up invisibly and making him somewhat afraid.

　　"Even the teachers in the county town only earn a few taels of silver a month, not even as much as Uncle Wang’s carpentry shop. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have studied all these years, but learned carpentry from Old Wang instead. At least then I could have solved the problem of food and clothing, better than having nothing at all now." Ethan Brooks fell silent.

　　"There’s hardly any grain left at home, and the silver is almost gone. I even owe Steward Zhou three taels of silver. In the future... what will I do?" Ethan Brooks looked up at the sky, murmuring softly. The sky was very blue, very vast, stretching endlessly into the distance, just like his unseen future.

　　After a long time, Ethan Brooks shook his head, took a slip of paper from his chest, looked at it carefully, then placed it into the gourd. He stood up and, with force, threw the gourd down the mountain.

　　At the foot of the mountain flowed a great river, whose waters did not freeze even in the coldest winter. Legend said it led to the Great Tang of the Eastern Lands.

　　At the mountain’s peak, Ethan Brooks silently watched as the gourd drifted farther and farther down the river below, not blinking, as if seeing his mother, as if seeing the joys of his childhood. That gourd carried his dreams, his grand hopes for the future, drifting ever farther away. Who knew if, someday, someone would find that gourd and see the slip of paper inside?

　　Only after dozens of breaths did Ethan Brooks finally look away, hiding the confusion in his expression. He took a deep breath of the mountain air, and determination appeared in his eyes.

　　"No matter what, whether I study or work, I must... keep on living." Ethan Brooks had always been this way—intelligent and strong. If not, after his parents left, he could never have survived alone until now.

　　Ethan Brooks looked up at the sky, the determination in his eyes growing even stronger, and was about to head down the mountain.

　　Just then, a faint voice suddenly came from below the cliff. The sound seemed about to be scattered by the wind, so weak that it was barely noticeable when it reached Ethan Brooks's ears.

　　"Help... help..."

　　Ethan Brooks paused, stunned for a moment, then listened carefully. With his focus, the cry for help became a bit clearer.

　　"Help..."

　　Ethan Brooks hurried a few steps to the edge of the peak and looked down. Immediately, he saw that halfway down the cliff, there seemed to be a crack, and someone was sticking half their body out from it, their face pale with terror and despair, calling out for help.

　　"You... are you Ethan Brooks? Help me, Scholar Meng, save me!" The youth sticking out from the cliff recognized Ethan Brooks at a glance, his expression instantly showing joy, as if he had found hope in a desperate situation.

　　"Henry Smith?" Ethan Brooks widened his eyes, looking at the youth halfway down the cliff. He knew this person—it was the son of Uncle Wang, the carpenter in the county town.