Chapter 132: The Return is Near

"Greetings, sir. May I ask your name?" Liu Yitiao noticed the old man’s composed and dignified air. Given that this was the encampment of the Left Imperial Guard, anyone able to stroll in so nonchalantly must hold a significant position, so he bowed politely.

"Heh heh, names are unnecessary. I am merely a man with a deep passion for calligraphy. Hearing that the esteemed Master Liu was here, I wished to seek some guidance. I hope you will not refuse me." The old man chuckled and returned the bow, clearly unwilling to reveal his identity.

*Great, another one here to discuss calligraphy.* Liu Yitiao shook his head. He truly could not understand it; he had simply written in the Song typeface, nothing world-shattering, so why were these scholars reacting with such intensity? He had hidden himself away inside the imperial palace, yet people still managed to track him down.

Observing the old man, who remained calm and amiable, he seemed like a person of cultivation. Liu Yitiao bowed and invited him inside. The two sat around a table, and Liu Yitiao instructed Xiao Suo to serve tea.

The old man took a sip and said, "I visited the 'Qingfeng Pavilion' yesterday, specifically to view your original work, Master Liu. I am truly in awe of your calligraphy. It is rare for someone as young as you to have achieved such mastery!"

"Furthermore, I have observed that your characters are square and sharp, with a highly rigorous structure. They are neat, uniform, and possess a strong sense of rhythm in the brushstrokes. It is a delight to behold. It differs from the five traditional styles—Standard, Cursive, Clerical, Seal, and Running—yet one can see traces of them, as if it shares a common lineage. However, this style seems ill-suited for a standard brush. Might I ask how you came to create it?"

An expert knows the truth at a glance; this old man was undoubtedly an expert.

"Your eyes are keen, sir," Liu Yitiao replied, weaving a tale. "My style is derived from the Standard Script. However, my family was poor in my youth, and we lacked the means to purchase brushes, ink, paper, or inkstones. I often practiced by writing in the sand or on clay blocks with twigs or knives. Over time, the characters took on this form. Therefore, my attainments are not as profound as others might imagine; I dare not compare myself to the masters Ouyang or Yu. This title of 'Master' truly makes me blush."

"Is that so?" The old man nodded in realization. "No wonder I detected a sense of 'carving' in your strokes. So that is the reason. Yet, to have forged a style so distinct from the five traditional ones using only sand and mud, it shows great talent."

"Many poor scholars have studied with twigs and knives since ancient times, but you are the only one who has created a new style. In my view, this alone is enough for you to be remembered for eternity. You deserve the title of Master."

"You are too kind, sir. I am humbled," Liu Yitiao said with a modest bow.

"You are too modest. Actually, besides visiting you, I came to request a piece of your calligraphy. Would you be willing to write something for me?" The old man stood and bowed, his sincerity evident.

"That is easily done. If you do not mind my humble work, I shall certainly not refuse!" Liu Yitiao stood and ordered, "Xiao Suo, bring some paper, ink, and brushes."

Having found a secure path to distance himself from the pressure, Liu Yitiao no longer cared about being called a master. Fame was like a passing cloud. If someone wanted his writing, he would simply provide it.

Once the supplies were ready, Liu Yitiao dipped his brush and wrote:

"Before my bed, the moonlight gleams,
Like frost upon the ground.
I lift my head to watch the moon,
And lower it, homesick bound."

Li Bai’s *Quiet Night Thought*—a poem so simple that even children in his previous life could recite it—fit his current mood perfectly.

"Before my bed, the moonlight gleams, like frost upon the ground. I lift my head to watch the moon, and lower it, homesick bound." The old man leaned in, reciting the lines slowly. He looked at Liu Yitiao and asked softly, "Are you homesick, Master Liu?"

"Heh, forgive my lack of composure," Liu Yitiao said with a faint smile as he set down the brush. "To be honest, this trip to Chang'an is the first time I have left home, and with no set date for my return, I cannot help but feel a longing for it."

"A natural human emotion," the old man sighed. "I, too, left home at a young age. I understand your sentiment well. This poem, simple as it is, stirs the heart."

"Well, let us speak no more of this. Please, take a look at the work," Liu Yitiao said, shaking off the melancholy. He handed the paper to the old man. "Does it meet with your approval?"

"How could anything written by you be anything less than excellent? I thank you," the old man said, bowing slightly. He carefully folded the paper and tucked it into his robes with the reverence one might show a priceless treasure.

"Master Liu! The Crown Prince is here!" Xiao Suo entered, almost running, his face beaming with excitement. The Crown Prince—the future Emperor of the Great Tang! Xiao Suo’s eyes were practically sparkling.

Liu Yitiao raised an eyebrow. Why was Li Chengqian here? He glanced at the old man, who remained nonchalant. It seemed the old man was not particularly fazed by the Prince’s status; he was truly a remarkable figure.

The group went to the door to welcome him. Li Chengqian stood there with his hands behind his back.

"This commoner pays his respects to the Crown Prince! Forgive us for keeping you waiting," Liu Yitiao said, bowing low.

"This subject pays his respects to the Crown Prince," the old man added with a bow.

"Lord Fang? You are here as well?" Li Chengqian looked surprised. He wondered why the old man had the leisure to visit the Left Imperial Guard and why he was associating with Liu Yitiao. "Master Liu, Lord Fang, please, no need for such formalities. Let us go inside to talk."

"Please, Your Highness," they said, stepping aside.

As they entered, Liu Yitiao leaned toward the old man and whispered, "May I ask, are you the current Minister of the Left, Lord Fang Qiao?"

"Indeed, that is I," Fang Xuanling replied with a chuckle. "I apologize for the earlier secrecy; I hope you do not take offense."

Liu Yitiao was stunned. Finally, he had met another legendary figure. Even if he wasn't perfectly versed in Tang history, he knew the name Fang Xuanling. Alongside Du Ruhui, they were the top strategists for Li Shimin, instrumental in the prosperity of the Zhenguan era.

However, the man's appearance was disappointing. A round face, small eyes, short, thick eyebrows, and a face lined with age. He lacked the "fan and silk headband" image of a strategist that Liu Yitiao had imagined.

"Master Liu, Lord Fang, please be seated. There are no outsiders here," Li Chengqian said. He looked at Fang Xuanling and asked, "Lord Fang, you are always busy with official duties. To have the leisure to come here today—is it for Master Liu?"

"Your Highness is correct," Fang Xuanling replied. "I heard the creator of the Liu-style calligraphy was staying here, and out of admiration, I came to seek a piece of his work."

"I have heard of this style as well; even my Imperial Father is quite fond of it. Master Liu, your talent is truly admirable!" Li Chengqian said, offering a polite compliment.

"You are too kind, Your Highness," Liu Yitiao said, bowing. "May I ask why you have come? Has there been any change in the Empress's condition?"

"Not at all. Since she began the medicinal diet you prescribed, her complexion has improved greatly. She is currently playing with Zhinu and Sizi," Li Chengqian said, looking at Liu Yitiao with gratitude. He knew this was all due to him.

"I came today for two reasons: to thank you, and to bring good news," Li Chengqian continued. "The Taoist Priest Sun you recommended has been found. However, he is currently in Shu. Even with fast horses, it will take at least seven days for him to reach Chang'an."

*Found?* Liu Yitiao sat up straight, his heart filled with joy. Did this not mean he would soon be able to go home?