Volume One: The Lonely Beta Test Chapter Eight: How the Mystic’s Hat Is Worn

“What kind of prodigy is this, Second Uncle?” Lin Feng paused his writing when he heard Lin Zhen’s voice, lifted his head, and asked.

Lin Zhen brought over a piece of paper, holding it as if it were a precious treasure, his face flushed with excitement. “Feng’er, how could you be so careless with such a priceless thing!”

“Second Uncle, what on earth did I throw away? Let me see!” Lin Feng replied earnestly, wondering if, as someone from the future, he had unwittingly discarded some rare treasure.

Lin Zhen handed the paper to him with both hands, and Lin Feng quickly accepted it.

“Is this the treasure you’re talking about?” Lin Feng asked with a hint of amusement.

Seeing Lin Feng’s indifferent attitude toward the “treasure,” Lin Zhen grew even more serious. “Feng’er, do you know what it is you have drawn?”

“Oh, that’s just a rough map of Lelang Commandery,” Lin Feng replied, noticing the grave expression on his uncle’s face. He thought to himself that in ancient times, people held books in great reverence—some even washed their hands and faces before reading or practicing calligraphy. Paper was precious, and his careless use of it was indeed a grave fault.

He bowed and said, “Uncle, I realize my mistake. I shouldn’t have wasted paper like that. Please punish me as you see fit.”

In truth, Lin Feng had no idea of the map’s importance. In that era, maps lacked a “God’s-eye view,” relying entirely on the subjective perspective of the drafter, who would draw from their own point of view, making prosperous regions larger and unremarkable ones smaller, with no sense of direction or scale. The resulting maps often bore little resemblance to reality. Countless military mishaps had occurred due to inaccurate maps.

But Lin Feng had carefully divided the paper into grids and, relying on his memory, drew the map to scale. As a top student in geography, the outlines of the world’s map were imprinted on his mind, along with the terrain, geological features, and mineral resources of various countries. The sea between Korea and a certain island nation was a route his former fleet had traversed, and he remembered its maps in great detail. Moreover, as a fan of the Three Kingdoms, he had saved countless maps of the various commanderies from that era on his old laptop; drawing a sketch was as easy as a homework assignment to him. The only reason he had wasted so much paper was the lack of proper tools.

Even as a rough sketch, if seen by a contemporary with some knowledge, it would be considered an invaluable treasure—especially to those with ambitions for the realm. Such a map was of immense importance. When Liu Bei was able to acquire Yi Province so smoothly during the Three Kingdoms, Zhang Song’s contribution of a detailed map played a crucial role.

Lin Zhen helped Lin Feng up, took the paper, and said with deep feeling, “Feng’er, I don’t mind the wasted paper. What concerns me is the map you’ve drawn. With a map this remarkable, if you presented it to the court, you would surely be handsomely rewarded—perhaps even granted an official post. How could I not be upset to see you throw that away?”

Hearing this, Lin Feng was delighted. “Uncle, do you really mean that?”

“Of course. When have I ever deceived you?” Lin Zhen replied earnestly.

“Then come with me, Uncle, and see what the map on the table is worth.”

Lin Zhen followed Lin Feng to the table, where he was greeted by a map seven or eight times larger than the previous one. At the top, written in large characters, were the words: “General Map of the Thirteen Provinces of Han.” Names such as Yong, Yu, Yan, Xu, Qing, Liang, Bing, Ji, You, Yang, Jing, Yi, and Jiao were marked at their respective positions. Lelang, which had been on the earlier sketch, was now in the upper right corner, appearing tiny in comparison to the other provinces.

Lin Zhen was utterly stunned, his eyes fixed on the map, speechless for a long time.

“Uncle… Uncle…” Lin Feng called twice with no response, so he waved his hand in front of his uncle’s eyes. “Uncle, are you alright?”

“Feng’er, is this really a map of our Han Empire’s territory?” Lin Zhen asked, blinking in disbelief.

“It is indeed.”

Receiving Lin Feng’s confirmation, Lin Zhen examined the map once more, deeply moved. “I always knew the Han Empire was vast, but I never realized just how immense it was. I’ve lived most of my life, yet I haven’t even left Lelang, which is but a fraction of this land—how insignificant my life seems!”

“Uncle, please don’t say that. You are in your prime. When I finish the detailed map and achieve something in the future, I will help you fulfill your wish,” Lin Feng comforted him.

“With such ambition, you bring great comfort to your uncle! Feng’er, you have such talent—you will surely accomplish great things. But what puzzles me is, when did you acquire such skills? Why have you only revealed them to me today?” Lin Zhen inquired.

Lin Feng knew that his abilities would eventually come to light, so he had already prepared an explanation.

“Uncle, please sit. Let me explain everything to you.”

After Lin Zhen sat down and Lin Feng poured him a cup of tea, Lin Feng continued, “Uncle, did you find it strange how I returned safely?”

“What’s strange about it? Our ancestors blessed you with good fortune,” Lin Zhen replied sincerely, setting down his cup.

“Yes, it was certainly by ancestral blessing. But when I sank to the bottom of the water, at the very edge of life and death, a white light enveloped me and carried me to a mist-shrouded place. I fell asleep without knowing it. In my dream, an immortal took me as his disciple and promised to teach me everything he knew.

“So I devoted myself to learning under him. It would have taken ten years to master everything, but he said my spirit had been away from my body too long and my flesh would suffer, so he performed a ritual to send me back. When I awoke, I was already in my own bed.”

Lin Feng gazed into the distance as he spoke, as if lost in deep memory—in truth, he was simply nervous about his own fabrication and dared not meet Lin Zhen’s eyes.

“To think you were favored by Heaven itself—this is a great blessing for our Lin family!” Lin Zhen stood and bowed three times toward the door.

“But Feng’er, something curious happened. The day before you awoke, an old Daoist came to our house, saying your soul had not returned. He performed a ritual, and the very next day you woke up. Could that Daoist have been the very immortal who saved and taught you?”

“It’s very possible,” Lin Feng replied. “Do you know the Daoist’s name, Uncle?”

“He called himself Master Fang Yuan, but gave no surname or personal name. All our attention was on you, so we didn’t ask,” Lin Zhen replied, turning back. “Frankly, Feng’er, I feel ashamed. Now that you’re well, I can’t find the Daoist to thank him for his help.”

“Master Fang Yuan… Fang Yuan…” Lin Feng muttered, searching his memory for any such figure from the Three Kingdoms period, but none came to mind.

Seeing Lin Feng lost in thought, Lin Zhen thought he intended to seek out the Daoist immediately and said, “Feng’er, don’t trouble yourself. A man like that is elusive; if fate allows, we’ll thank him when we meet him again.”

“You’re right, Uncle.” Lin Feng returned from his reverie and continued, “Uncle, now that I have inherited some of my immortal master’s teachings, I have a clear understanding of the mountains and rivers of the Han realm. Besides that, I have learned a little divination. Last night, while observing the stars, I noticed something strange. I fear a great calamity will befall the world before long!” Lin Feng spoke with grave concern.

Lin Zhen was deeply shocked—by now, he had complete faith in Lin Feng’s abilities. “Feng’er, what kind of calamity?” he asked anxiously.

Lin Feng did not answer immediately. He sat down, took a piece of paper, and wrote:

Sparrows fill the sky,
The great cauldron draws ten thousand to contend.
From this chaos begins,
A hundred years without peace.

After reading this, Lin Zhen’s expression changed dramatically. What Lin Feng wrote clearly foretold a change of dynasty.

Whether Lin Feng’s prophecy would come true or not, if such words were spread, the Lin family would be doomed. “Feng’er, never write or speak of such treasonous things again, or disaster will surely find our family!”

“Uncle, I understand. But my master’s teachings cannot be wrong.” Lin Feng set down his brush and stood. “Uncle, this coming catastrophe will be unprecedented. Countless lives will be lost—fewer than one in ten will survive. I’m telling you alone because I want our family to be prepared before the disaster strikes.”

Ancient people held deep reverence for the supernatural, and Lin Feng’s miraculous recovery only added to his credibility. Lin Zhen believed every word.

Still, Lin Feng’s warning had been too vague, so Lin Zhen pressed him, “Feng’er, if so, can you explain more, so we can prepare accordingly?”

“Uncle, Heaven’s secrets must not be revealed. I can say no more, or the gods will punish me!”

“You’re right, you’re right—how could mere mortals glimpse Heaven’s plans? I’ve heard those who reveal Heaven’s secrets suffer illness or even untimely death. Feng’er, you’ve risked so much for our family—please, let me pay my respects to you as your uncle.”

With that, Lin Zhen bowed low. Lin Feng tried to stop him but couldn’t, so he knelt and caught his uncle’s hands.

“Uncle, please rise—this is not acceptable. As a son of the Lin family, what I’ve done is nothing compared to the love I’ve received from everyone.”

At this moment, Lin Feng was amazed at his own ability to play the role of a mystic—he’d managed to earn the wholehearted reverence of the Lin family’s second master. He could have won an acting award for this performance.

By now, Lin Zhen’s view of him had completely changed. Lin Feng was no longer the unreliable, ignorant youth he had once been, but another pillar of the Lin family. As an elder, this was a great comfort to him; he even began to contemplate “retirement.” That was the power of Lin Feng’s “mysticism.”

“Good Feng’er! Let’s not stand on ceremony. Tell me your plans—whatever you need, I will do my utmost to help.” Lin Zhen helped Lin Feng up, and they sat together.

“Thank you, Uncle! As the saying goes, ‘Prepare for a rainy day.’ If we want to survive and prosper in troubled times, we’ll need considerable strength…”

Lin Feng then shared all his ideas with Lin Zhen, who agreed wholeheartedly. The two of them roughly planned out what needed to be done. Only as the sun set behind the western hills and the servants urged them repeatedly did they finally go to eat. It seemed Lin Zhen had forgotten his original reason for seeking out Lin Feng—perhaps, as long as they could achieve the first step Lin Feng had outlined, dealing with those pirates would no longer be a concern.