Chapter 1: Scholar Meng Hao
The State of Zhao was a very small nation [1. The State of Zhao is named after the historical ]. Like other small nations in the lands of South Heaven, its people admired the Great Tang [2. The Great Tang is named after the historical ] in the Eastern Lands, and they admired Chang'an [3. Chang'an is named after the historical Chinese city ]. Not only did the king carry this admiration, all scholars in the State of Zhao did. They could see it, almost as if they stood atop the Tower of Tang in the capital city, oh so far away.
This April was neither extremely cold, nor scorching hot. Light winds caressed the land, passing the Qiang Di flutes of the Northern Reaches, blowing over the lands of the Great Tang. Under the twilight sky, it lifted the fog-like dust, then swirling, twisting, reached Mount Daqing in the State of Zhao. Then it fell onto a young man who sat there on the mountaintop.
He was a lean young man, holding a bottle gourd and wearing a clean blue scholar's robe. He appeared to be about sixteen or seventeen. He was not tall, and his skin was somewhat dark, but his bright eyes sparkled with intelligence. And yet, all his intelligence seemed to be hidden by the frown on his face. He seemed lost.
"Failed again..." He sighed. His name was Meng Hao, an average student from Yunjie County, which lay at the foot of the mountain [4. Meng Hao's name in Chinese is 孟浩 (mèng hào) - Meng is a family name. Hao means "great" or "many"]. Years ago, his parents went missing, and did not leave much behind in the way of assets. Education was expensive, so he was almost completely broke.
"I've taken the three years in a row. In all that time, I read books written by the sages until I wanted to throw up. Maybe that isn't the path for me after all." Filled with self-deprecation, he looked down at the gourd bottle, his eyes bleak.
"My dream of becoming an official and getting rich just keeps getting farther and farther away. I might as well forget about trying to reach the Great Tang... How useless to be a student." He laughed bitterly. Sitting there on the silent mountaintop, gazing at the bottle gourd in his hand, he looked increasingly lost. He began to feel fear. What would he do in the future? Where would he go?
Perhaps a high-ranking official would take an interest in him, or a beautiful young maiden. Or would he continue to take the exams, year after year?
There were no answers to the questions. He was but a teenager, and this feeling of being lost had devoured him like a giant invisible mouth. He truly felt afraid.
"Even the teachers in town can only make a few pieces of silver. That's worse than Uncle Wang's carpenter shop. If I'd realized that earlier, I could have learned some carpentry skills from him. At least then I wouldn't be starving like I am now." He grew silent for a while.
"I don't have much food or money left at home. I owe Steward Zhou three pieces of silver. What am I going to do?" He raised his head and looked up at the sky, blue and grand. It was so large you could not see its ends. Much similar to how he could not see his future.
After a while, Meng Hao shook his head and took out a slip of paper from his robe. He read it carefully, placed it in the gourd bottle, then stood up and threw the gourd down the mountain.
At the bottom of the mountain was a wide river which never froze during the winter, and was said to flow all the way to the Great Tang.
Meng Hao stood on top of the mountain, watching the gourd bottle drift further and further along down the river. He stared unblinking. For a moment, he seemed to have glimpsed his mother, and the happiness of his childhood. The gourd carried his dreams, his wishes, and his hopes for the future. Perhaps one day someone would pick it up, open it, and read the note.
