Chapter Eighteen: The Four Aspects of the Shadow Talisman

Xu You had anticipated that their arrival in Qiantang would not remain a secret for long. He had no intention of concealing it, for to settle in Qiantang—whether to buy a house or pursue any other undertaking—he first needed an officially recognized identity. For the sake of security, too, it was imperative to report to the Qiantang county office and have his household registered without delay. Thus, after resting for a day or two to recover from the exhaustion of the long river journey, he was preparing to meet the county magistrate when, quite unexpectedly, the man before him laid bare his origins with a single remark.

Zuo Wen’s hand was already on his sword hilt, awaiting Xu You’s command. He Ru’an sat calmly, his demeanor unruffled, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the air.

Xu You took no offense, smiling as he replied, “My good sir, you are mistaken. I am but a small-time merchant from Jinling Commandery, trading grain throughout the Three Wu. I know nothing of the Xu clan of Yixing, nor of any family calamity, nor do I have any plans to settle in Qiantang. Though this is indeed a fine place, we merchants follow profit, wandering where fortune leads us. For now, I have no intention of taking up permanent residence here.”

“Is that so? You trade in grain? Can you tell me the current price of grain in Kuaiji? What about in Qiantang? How much is lost in transit from Qiantang to Jinling, and what are the costs of labor along the way? Furthermore, while the southern rivers may not be as capricious as the Yangtze, storms do arise. Can you speak to the tides, the winds, the omens?”

Xu You looked at him with new interest. The youth’s words were sharp, utterly unyielding. Most, when sensing an evasion, would let it pass with a laugh; this one, however, pressed relentlessly.

“May I ask, Master He, what brings you all the way from Jingkou to Qiantang? Visiting relatives, seeking friends, or, like myself, in pursuit of profit?” Xu You parried, answering one question with another.

“First, one tames the horse before seeking its worth; first, one proves his trust before seeking his skill. You are right to be wary of me, given your circumstances—there is nothing strange in that.” He Ru’an rose, saluted with both hands, and said coolly, “I have imposed upon you today. I shall take my leave.”

Xu You’s eyes flashed. As He Ru’an was about to step out, Xu You called out, “Wait, sir!”

He Ru’an paused, not turning back.

Xu You stepped behind him, smiling. “Why the haste? If you have no urgent business, why not summon some wine and food, and let us converse at leisure?”

“And what shall we discuss? If you wish to debate metaphysics, I must decline.” He Ru’an’s tone was indifferent. “It’s nothing personal—I simply never engage in such talks. Of the classics ‘Three Mysteries,’ I’ve heard only their names, not their substance. These debates about being and non-being, the four roots of talent and nature, natural illumination, whether sages have feelings or are impassive—I’ve heard others mention them in passing, but know nothing beyond that.”

The core of Wei-Jin metaphysics lay in the Laozi, the Zhuangzi, and the Book of Changes, collectively known as the “Three Mysteries.” Topics like “being and non-being” and “emotion or lack thereof” were central to these debates. In truth, metaphysical discussions were widely misunderstood—not the idle boasting of two bored men, but rather deep philosophical inquiries into the origins of the world. Yet from ancient times, such debates, once they touched on essence and beginnings, easily slipped into abstruse nihilism. Especially in eras lacking scientific progress and practical experience, pure philosophy became a contest of imagination and logic, a battle for influence over minds—not for truth itself.

Thus, after He Yan and Wang Bi established the schools of metaphysics, the gentry became enamored with abstraction over practicality, speculation over action. They dismissed the teachings of Tang and Wu, denigrated Confucius and the rites, and embraced “nature” over tradition, leading to the decline of governance and the eventual fall of Western Jin. By the Eastern Jin, Fan Ning famously denounced He Yan and Wang Bi, claiming their crimes exceeded those of the tyrants Jie and Zhou. Though exaggerated, it showed how some sober-minded officials abhorred metaphysics.

The state of Chu, inheriting from Cao Wei, had also suffered the social upheavals after the Five Barbarians’ turmoil. Thus, He Ru’an’s open disdain for metaphysics was not out of place in the times, and Xu You harbored no suspicion because of it. “I am but a humble merchant,” he replied. “Even if you wished to debate with me, I doubt we could reach the heights of such discourse.”

“Zi, Wu, Mao, and You?” He Ru’an echoed.

Xu You realized he had inadvertently used a familiar proverb out of its proper era and explained, “Zi, Wu, Mao, and You refer to the four directions—north, south, east, and west. If one cannot even distinguish them, what is the point of metaphysical debate?”

He Ru’an slowly turned, his lips curling into an unreadable smile. “Do you study the Book of Changes?”

“I have but a superficial acquaintance with a few characters—hardly any real learning. You, on the other hand, strike me as a man of lofty bearing and clear thought. Surely, you have mastered the Five Classics and Six Arts?”

He Ru’an shook his head. “You are mistaken. I am unlike other men. I do not study Confucianism, nor do I engage in metaphysics, and the teachings of Buddhism and Daoism frankly disgust me.”

The words sounded arrogant, but since time immemorial, men of strong character have always relied on something. Xu You, patient, asked, “Then, sir, may I ask—what school do you follow?”

He Ru’an smiled slightly. “I study the Art of the Shadow Talisman.”

Xu You’s brow furrowed. “And what is the Art of the Shadow Talisman?”

He had kept He Ru’an here for three reasons: first, because this man had unerringly revealed his identity and Xu You could not rest without knowing his motives; second, he still had doubts about the matter of the venison and wished to test his suspicions; third and most important, with the keen eye honed in his later life, Xu You could see this man was no ordinary person. If possible, he would make a friend of him.

After all, his enemies were the most powerful crown prince in the world and the mighty Shen family of Jiangdong. To seek vengeance against such forces was not a task for one man or for a brief period. Thus, uniting all possible allies and leveraging every available resource was his only—and inevitable—choice.

Yet this “Art of the Shadow Talisman” sounded suspiciously like the empty promises of those modern shell companies trying to lure investors with grandiose projects—never mind its feasibility, at least it was impressive enough to deceive. If Xu You’s guess was right, the so-called Art of the Shadow Talisman was nothing more than the School of Guigu’s strategies of persuasion and intrigue. Since Zhang Yi and Su Qin, this school had lived on in the annals of history, with few true inheritors. Many had falsely claimed the Guigu name to hoodwink the world. With Xu You’s temperament, he had little interest in such men.

He had resolved: if He Ru’an continued to spout nonsense, there would be no friendship between them.

“Wisdom, calculation, transformation, debate: one opening, one closing, one contracting, one expanding. To exhaust the uses of heaven, to move as the spirits do!”

This was boastfulness that reached the heavens. Xu You’s expression grew cold. “Have you read Yang Xiong’s ‘Fa Yan?’ He says the Art of the Shadow Talisman is the art of deception, despised by sages. What is your opinion of Yang Xiong’s judgment?” His intention to dismiss He Ru’an was clear, even his address shifting from “sir” to the more distant “you.”

He Ru’an laughed heartily, his eyes flashing like a thousand bolts of lightning. “Yang Xiong was originally surnamed Yang, but for the sake of uniqueness, changed it to Yang with a different character. That is trivial. Worse, he shamelessly embellished his ancestry, claiming the Yangs were marquises in the Spring and Autumn period, forced south by three clans. Zhang Heng of the Eastern Han denounced this as absurd—such a change of surname is unfilial. Yang Xiong suffered from a speech impediment since childhood, his family fortune barely ten gold pieces, living in poverty and obscurity, priding himself on detachment and disdain for fame. Yet after forty, the age of no confusion, he contradicted himself, seeking office in the capital through flattery and ornate writing. He was arrogant in youth, obsequious in age—is that not untrustworthy? In office, he imitated Sima Xiangru’s ‘Shanglin Fu’ with his own ‘Changyang Fu,’ glossing over the empire’s wounds with praise, ignoring the Han’s internal and external crises—a mark of disloyalty. When Wang Mang usurped the throne and implicated many, Yang Xiong, a mere minor official, was barely involved, yet he was so terrified he hid away in the Tianlu Pavilion—how foolish. In old age, he wrote the ‘Fa Yan,’ as you mentioned, not only attacking the Shadow Talisman but also condemning Sima Xiangru, from whom he had copied styles to win imperial favor—how unkind!

“Such a man, lacking loyalty, filial piety, kindness, wisdom, and trust—if you judge the Art of the Shadow Talisman by his slanders, is that not laughable?”

Since his rebirth, Xu You had never before been bested in debate. Yang Xiong was a figure known to all educated men; Wang Chong, the famed heretic and great Eastern Han thinker, called him a sage among men. Han Yu of the Tang praised him as a disciple of the sages, and Sima Guang of the Northern Song placed him, after Confucius, above Xun Qing and Meng Ke as the pre-eminent scholar of his age.

Yet in He Ru’an’s mouth, he became a petty man, lacking every virtue!

How ironic—just recently, as they sat in silence, He Ru’an had seemed so reserved, even when pressed by Dou Qi, that Xu You thought him poor in argument. Only now did he realize how gravely he had misjudged the man.

Far from being annoyed, Xu You’s eyes brightened. The Art of the Shadow Talisman was famed for wisdom, calculation, transformation, and debate. He Ru’an’s wisdom and calculation were yet to be seen, but his skill in transformation and debate was already evident.

“Though I do not share your views, I absolutely support your right to express them.” Xu You saluted again, smiling. “Since you are a disciple of Guigu, it is no wonder you saw through my origins.”

He Ru’an, seeing that Xu You was now frank and no longer evasive, lowered his eyes and said, “I recognized you because, when the steward of the Shen family caused a commotion in Yixing, and you shamed him by invoking the rules of attire, I happened to be among the crowd.”

Xu You’s body trembled; in an instant, countless thoughts flashed through his mind as he stared at He Ru’an’s world-weary face. “So, the encounter outside the guesthouse earlier—was that orchestrated by you as well?”

He Ru’an cupped his hands and bowed deeply. “You have finally understood. I followed you from Yixing to Jinling, then set out ahead of you for Qiantang, arriving only two days before you. It was no easy feat!”