Chapter Eighty-Three: The Merchant

"The Rite of Heavenly Fortune."

Li Zisheng read the title softly, deliberately feigning an air of knowing exactly what it was. As expected, upon hearing him speak this way, Ling'er’s demeanor became noticeably lighter.

Li Zisheng had acted this way on purpose. He was desperate to know what this "Rite of Heavenly Fortune" actually was. If his hypothesis was correct—that these were ancient texts from the Qin Dynasty—why were there so many copies circulating in the marketplace? Furthermore, whenever someone gifted him one of these books, they did so with such casual ease. This baffled him; he could not fathom the underlying significance.

Li Zisheng clearly needed to uncover the truth behind it all.

"Tell me, Brother Zisheng, are you familiar with the Rite of Heavenly Fortune?"

Li Zisheng nodded.

Seeing this, Ling'er’s expression became more intimate, though her face remained largely unchanged; only her eyes betrayed a shift in emotion.

"That makes things much easier. Since you know of the Rite, my task is simple. I won't keep anything from you, Brother Zisheng. It is rumored that this Rite was written by Li Si himself and holds the key to the Yishan Stone Inscriptions. It is also said that only the successors of Li Si understand the true meaning behind it—the ultimate secret hidden within these pages. That is why this book will serve as your protection."

Ling'er’s words unraveled the knot of confusion in Li Zisheng's mind.

So that was it. No wonder. It all made sense now: Deng Qing knew his identity, Mr. Zhong knew it, the mysterious old man knew it, and even the head manager of the Sanwei Residence knew it. He was the only one kept in the dark.

It was no wonder such precious ancient texts were gifted to him so casually. It was because he was known as the disciple of Cheng Zhongliang, and thus, theoretically, the semi-successor of Li Si.

"That doesn't add up, Sister Ling'er. My teacher, Cheng Zhongliang, spent his life pursuing the rites of heaven and earth and had countless disciples. Why would they settle on me?" Li Zisheng asked, voicing the doubt that had been gnawing at him.

Hearing his question, Ling'er looked at him with a strange expression.

"Brother Zisheng, do you not know? Across the vast Tang Empire, you are the only one left of Cheng Zhongliang’s lineage. Your teacher and all your senior fellow disciples have been slaughtered by an unknown force. That is why these items must be in your hands—to protect you. You have no choice but to accept them."

Ling'er’s words were blunt, leaving no room for negotiation. Li Zisheng felt the weight of her directness but remained composed.

In truth, he had already suspected as much. With his teacher murdered, his fellow students could hardly escape the same fate, all because they bore the title of Li Si’s successors. He had remained safe only because this mysterious force had scoured his teacher’s estate and the homes of his fellow disciples, failing to find what they were looking for. Since the object was in Cheng Zhongliang’s possession, it stood to reason it must now be in his own.

If that were the case, then this matter regarding the Rite and its secrets had inevitably landed squarely on his shoulders; those hunters would come for him next.

"Brother Zisheng, you need not worry about your safety. Since the secret to unlocking the Yishan Stone Inscriptions now rests entirely with you, your safety is guaranteed. As for the Rite of Heavenly Fortune, there are twelve volumes in total. Each one is of critical importance. Only when all twelve are gathered will the successor of Heavenly Fortune be able to unlock the secret hidden within."

Ling'er continued to resolve another of his uncertainties.

Although Ling'er promised his safety was guaranteed, Li Zisheng was no fool. He understood the implications: once all twelve volumes were collected, his death warrant would surely be signed.

Every person he had met along the way had their own agenda. He couldn't help but wonder if his new master, the Medicine King Wei Cizang, harbored his own hidden motives. A chill crept into Li Zisheng’s heart. In the end, the only people who truly cared for him were his family. He had been away for many days, neither returning home nor sending word. The thought made the cold in his heart deepen.

"Sister Ling'er, how many volumes of the Rite of Heavenly Fortune do you have?" Li Zisheng asked.

"Zisheng, I only have one. But in recent years, the Sanwei Residence has collected three. I have one here, another is held elsewhere, and the third was kept by the head manager. Though, I suspect that one is likely already in your hands," Ling'er said calmly.

Li Zisheng stared at her, and she stared back. After a long silence, Li Zisheng replied softly, "That is correct."

"Then it is settled. I will give you this one as well, and when the time comes, I will have the other one brought to you. How does that sound?"

"Sister Ling'er, how can you be so certain that I hold the key to this earth-shattering secret? You are being so remarkably candid. The Sanwei Residence is, after all, a business. Are you not afraid of losing your entire investment and ending up with nothing, having squandered so much in the process?"

Li Zisheng realized that the death of the fat manager had not affected the attitude of the Sanwei Residence’s upper echelons in the slightest. They remained unchanged, viewing the fat manager’s demise as merely the completion of a task; once his value had been squeezed dry, they felt no pity. He understood now that the Sanwei Residence was, at its core, a merchant—possessing the cold indifference of one.

"Hehe, Brother Zisheng, you jest. Merchants do not fear losing their investments; they thrive on risk, and they love to gamble." Ling'er covered her mouth and chuckled, her eyes narrowing into slits.

"You must know that those who achieve great things do not obsess over minor details. If you are too constrained, you will only bring trouble upon yourself." Her words seemed like advice, yet they carried the weight of a warning. The smile on her face vanished in an instant. Though her veil obscured her expression, her eyes turned chillingly sharp.

"I have been taught well," Li Zisheng said. He took the volume from Ling'er. To him, this was not just an ancient book or a piece of the Rite; it felt as if he were holding a countdown to his own demise.

Though he did not know what his teacher had left him, he felt no resentment. Life and death are fated, and wealth is determined by heaven. Having taken Cheng Zhongliang as his master, he would never be a man who forgot his debts of gratitude.