Chapter 1

Autumn in Tokyo City was bustling with people and the sounds of the marketplace, a picture of prosperity.

Within Jingfu Palace, however, an atmosphere of grimness prevailed. Everyone walked with light steps, cautiously, as if afraid to disturb something. It was because the aged Zhao Song Emperor had caught a cold, and in recent days his condition had worsened, to the point where he was bedridden, spending most of the day in a stupor.

When the Emperor was lucid, he summoned a group of veteran ministers to the palace. Zhao Jiu saw the grief and fear on their faces and coughed twice, forcing a smile. "My esteemed ministers, life and death are determined by fate, there's no need for sorrow. I know my own body, and I suspect I am not long for this world…"

The Emperor spoke haltingly, giving instructions and making arrangements for matters after his death, to which the ministers nodded repeatedly, all weeping.

After a long while, the Emperor said, "I am somewhat weary… Zhengfu…"

Yang Yizhong stepped forward and bowed his head. "Your old servant is here…"

The Emperor said, "Zhengfu, stay… esteemed ministers, you may withdraw."

Having said this, the Emperor closed his eyes, appearing to fall asleep again.

He did not know how long had passed when the Emperor coughed lightly several times.

"Zhengfu, talk to me…"

Yang Yizhong could not hold back his tears. Seeing a faint flush returning to the Emperor's face, he was even more distraught. Yang Yizhong nodded to the grand supervisor nearby, who waved his hand gently, leading the palace maids and eunuchs out.

The Emperor stared at the flickering candlelight in the distance, silent for a long time.

"I had a dream yesterday…"

The Emperor's voice floated in the dim candlelight, barely audible.

Through Yang Yizhong's tearful eyes, the Emperor continued, "Yesterday, I dreamt I went to a place, another world…"

Yang Yizhong simply listened silently as the Emperor described in detail that world, so different from their own.

That world had man-made iron birds flying in the sky…

That world had vehicles with four wheels running on the ground, not pulled by horses, but drinking something called gasoline and running tirelessly on their own…

In that world, men mostly did not keep beards…

In that world, women wore less than men in the summer…

Yang Yizhong hesitated, but finally couldn't help asking, "Dare I ask, Your Majesty, does that world have hot air balloons?"

The Emperor coughed several times, his eyes glazed. "Of course, it does…"

That night, the Emperor woke and slept, slept and woke.

The Emperor said finally, "Awake, I know not I am a guest… I… I… I long to return to that dream and see that world again…"

Yang Yizhong was already sobbing uncontrollably.

Three days later, Zhao Jiu, the Emperor of the Song Dynasty, Zhao Jiu of Cangzhou, closed his eyes forever, never to open them again.

Months later, in the Mingdao Palace in Weizhen County, Bozhou, Huainan East Circuit of the Great Song Dynasty.

Yang Yizhong, dressed in blue robes and a wooden hairpin, stood beside the Nine Dragon Well. Regardless of the entreaties of his old mother and his children and grandchildren, Yang Yizhong had resolved to cultivate in Mingdao Palace. His family, unable to dissuade him, had no choice but to send Yang Yizhong to Mingdao Palace in Huainan East Circuit.

From then on, Mingdao Palace had one more old Daoist.

Strangely, Yang Yizhong always paced around the Nine Dragon Well, muttering to himself, no one knew what he was saying.

Spring came and summer went, and another autumn arrived. Yang Yizhong, dressed as a Daoist, was staring blankly into the Nine Dragon Well when suddenly, the old man rubbed his eyes and saw what seemed to be a dog lying in the well. But his old eyes were dim, and he couldn't see clearly, so he leaned on the railing and bent down to take a closer look…

Unexpectedly, his foot slipped, and he fell headfirst into the well…

He did not know how long had passed, but Yang Yizhong felt sore all over and found himself still lying in the well.

He rubbed his eyes, turned over, and sat up. The Nine Dragon Well, despite being called a well, was not very deep. Yang Yizhong moved his arms and legs and, using both his hands and feet, managed to climb out.

Within Mingdao Palace, the shadows of the trees swayed, and birds chirped, but there was not a single person in sight.

An iron bird roared as it flew over Yang Yizhong's head.

Chapter 2

The autumn wind rustled, the sun was warm and slanting, and in the afternoon, a classical garden in Bozhou, Huaixi, was filled with shifting light and a refreshing, mild atmosphere.

However, such a beautiful scene did not resonate with many people, as it was a weekday afternoon. In fact, this scenic garden, themed around Daoist culture, had only one paying backpacker, who was using a book to cover his face while dozing in a chair.

"Whirr… Thud!"

Suddenly, as the autumn wind tightened sharply, a thin volume of *Chinese Dynastic Politics* slid directly from the young male tourist's face to the ground and was blown several steps away. The man woke up immediately, instinctively checking his backpack on the chair. After confirming that nothing was missing, he went to retrieve his book.

But at that moment, an old Daoist dragging a large broom appeared from nowhere, bent down to pick up the book, and then casually sat on the chair, sweeping with the broom, and began flipping through the book… The autumn wind blew, the blue robes and wooden hairpin, the weathered face and white hair, startled the young man who had just woken up.

However, after the young man took a closer look and saw the XL tag on the collar of the Daoist robe below the man's hair, he relaxed and chuckled inwardly, mocking his own suspicion.

It turned out that this place was Guoyang, Bozhou, known as the hometown of Lao Tzu. This garden was built next to the Lao Tzu Temple, so encountering a Daoist was a common occurrence.

"It's rare to see young people reading seriously these days." After flipping through a few pages, perhaps because he couldn't see clearly or simply didn't understand, the old Daoist quickly handed the book back over the backpack with a thick Huaixi accent. "Actually, governing has always been the same since ancient times. Knowing the general principles is enough, the specifics are useless. You're reading the right book."

"Thank you… uh… Daoist." The young man took the book back, hesitating over the form of address. "Just pretending on the train, I don't really read it."

"Quite modest." The old Daoist became even more interested after hearing the reply. "Where are you from, young man? How old are you? Why are you interested in visiting our Lao Tzu Temple?"

"Local, twenty-one." The young man said casually, his Mandarin gradually picking up a bit of the local Huaixi flavor. "Just graduated from college and started working, came home to take care of some things, taking the train tonight. I knew it would be quiet here, so I just came here to wait."

"Twenty-one is a good age!" The old Daoist sighed. "Young! You don't know, our Guoyang is the hometown of Lao Tzu, and the Lao Tzu Temple has a long history. It's a pity that few locals come, and even fewer young people come. It's rare to see you…"

Before he could finish, the young man couldn't help laughing. "Daoist, I'm a local. You can fool outsiders with that, but why are you trying to fool me? Who doesn't know that the hometown of Lao Tzu is in the neighboring Luyi, and this one is fake?"

The old Daoist was even more embarrassed, his face turning red, and he waved his hands, speechless.

The young man, perhaps out of boredom, didn't let him off the hook and pressed on. "What do you mean, Daoist? This one is real, and the one in Luyi is fake? Their Lao Tzu Temple has been built layer upon layer from the Han Dynasty to the Tang Dynasty to the Song Dynasty, with countless cultural relics and historical sites. The iron pillar in front of the gate is a thousand years old…"

"I didn't say the one in Luyi is fake." The old Daoist said awkwardly, holding his broom. "But our Guoyang may not be fake either… The two places are so close, and in ancient times, Luyi always belonged to Bozhou. Guoyang is only a county that was established a hundred years ago, why bother making such a clear distinction?"

The young man smiled in realization. "That makes sense, they're both on the banks of the Wo River. Maybe Lao Tzu was one of us when he was alive."

"That's right!" The old Daoist finally breathed a sigh of relief. "The truth or falsehood of such things is meaningless in history. When we say the hometown of Lao Tzu, we're referring to the birthplace of Li Er. Luyi can be the place of worship throughout the ages. They're both real, why say the other is fake?"

The young man nodded perfunctorily, but in his heart, he was disdainful… Frankly speaking, no one cared where Lao Tzu was born. The dispute over the hometown of Lao Tzu was clearly about tourism resources and local cultural confidence. The old Daoist's argument, even if it had some truth to it, would certainly not be recognized by the governments of the two places! Especially by the Luyi government, which possessed a large number of real cultural relics and historical sites!

Moreover, this Daoist wasn't a proper Daoist at all. He was probably just a cosplay cleaner, and a lazy one at that… Otherwise? A Daoist, constantly talking about Lao Tzu and Li Er, with no respect at all? And then wandering around the garden on a windy day with a broom, pretending to work, fooling who?

However, as if sensing the young man's perfunctory attitude, the old Daoist continued to babble, "Young man, don't disbelieve… Our Guoyang also has real cultural relics and historical sites. The Nine Dragon Well in Liuxing Garden is an ancient artifact from the Spring and Autumn Period, verified by experts. There's only one like it. If you don't believe me, go take a look."

The young man shook his head repeatedly and simply got up, picked up his backpack, and prepared to leave… As a local, what didn't he know? The so-called Nine Dragon Well, Luyi also had one, but frankly speaking, not to mention the one in Guoyang, even the one in Luyi, who knew if it had anything to do with the Daoist ancestor?

"Young man, wait a moment!" Seeing this, the old Daoist became even more anxious and simply got up, leaned on his broom, and told the truth. "There's a dog that fell into the Nine Dragon Well over there, and it hurt its leg. I can't reach it with my broom. Logically speaking, the well is quite wide and only about one person deep, but I'm too old to climb down and back up. I need the young man to help me."

The young man was speechless for a moment. "You should have said so sooner, Daoist!"

"I was afraid you wouldn't agree." The old Daoist also felt awkward and led the way with his broom. "Young people these days are hard to talk to. Besides, I didn't want to bother with this dog, but its family is familiar with me and often invites me to dinner. Now that its family isn't here, I can't just leave their dog at the bottom of the well and ignore it…"

Amidst the rambling words, the two of them, one in front of the other, headed toward the so-called ancient relic, the Nine Dragon Well in Liuxing Garden. When they arrived, they saw a well-protected ancient well, with a pavilion built above it and a plaque that read "The Number One Pavilion in the World." But the old Daoist led the young man to a side well.

The side wells were merely eight new wells that were forcibly built to complete the Nine Dragon Well story from Lao Tzu's birth. They weren't ancient relics, but simply made of cement, with cement bottoms, two meters square, and less than two meters deep… Rather than wells, they were more like wide-mouthed cement pits.

The young man followed the old Daoist to one of the wells, stuck his head in, and saw a small pug lying motionless at the bottom of the well, which was a little more than one person deep, only occasionally kicking its legs to show that it was still alive. Around the dog were a pile of coins, copper coins, and other objects of prayer.

Seeing this, the young man frowned slightly and was about to put down his backpack and jump down, but as he held onto the edge of the well with both hands, he didn't know why, but he suddenly felt unwilling to do this small favor, as if going down the well would lead to death.

Seeing that the young man was so uncooperative, the old Daoist sighed and suddenly glared.

"Are you trying to fool everyone by refusing to save it?"

"How does saving a dog have anything to do with fooling everyone?" The young man frowned instantly.

"Regardless, since you agreed to my request, you should be honest, right?" The old Daoist scolded, leaning on his broom. "Young people who are hesitant and dishonest won't succeed in society!"

The young man was about to say that he had already found a job and was part of society when the old Daoist suddenly raised his large broom and pushed him into the well with all his might.

Chapter 3

After the young man fell into the well, the old Daoist quickly grabbed the edge of the well with both hands and peered inside. But there was no sign of the young man, and even the dog was gone. Only the young man's backpack lay quietly at the bottom of the well.

The old Daoist stared blankly at the backpack, tears welling up in his eyes. He kowtowed repeatedly to the Nine Dragon Well, banging his head on the ground. "Your Majesty, forgive me, your old servant deserves to be executed. The Great Song can do without your old servant, but it cannot do without Your Majesty…"

A few days later, the old Daoist, carrying the young man's backpack, stood before the Nine Dragon Well again and bowed down. "Your Majesty, the Great Song is entrusted to you… Your Majesty's parents will be taken care of by your old servant…"

After saying this, the old Daoist kowtowed a few more times to the Nine Dragon Well, then got up and walked down the mountain…