Chapter 305 — The Old Man in the Scroll
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 4 of 4
Once we find the same room twice, we can work out the pattern.
By the way, how are you two brothers at the arts of divination? " Shen Mu's heart skipped.
He at once walked into the embroidery chamber and shut the door behind him, then looked all around, thinking: "I came in through this door.
How could coming in and going out by this same door change the room? There must be some folding of space at work here.
This ship is very large, but the rooms in these buildings cannot be endless; they must be finite. So long as the number of rooms is finite, the pattern can be found.
" He set his mind at ease and looked around.
The embroidery chamber was lit by wall lamps; several pieces of women's embroidery hung on the walls, and below them stood a table, on one side of which lay a kerchief with dragons at play embroidered on it. The writing desk stood lower down, with brush, ink, paper, and inkstone set upon it, and a rush mat below it for sitting.
On the paper the ink was not yet dry: "Dew bathes the tender yellow, wind sways the green.
Late beauty in the world is not without intent; immortal grace and light adornment are gifts of heaven. Who can compare? " The writing broke off abruptly here; some urgent matter must have arisen, and it had not been finished.
Shen Mu examined the handwriting and inwardly praised it: "The brushwork is in no way inferior to my own -- only a touch more delicate. " Just then, the old fisherman suddenly darted into the calligraphy and painting before him and winked at him. Shen Mu sneered and swept his brush downward. The old man hastily sprang onto the table, then ran to the wall and escaped through another doorway. Shen Mu at once took up his brush and gave chase. The old man in the painting entered another room and vanished, no telling where he had hidden.
Shen Mu entered this room and looked around. It was a study, and the books in it were very old.
Shen Mu pulled one down and tried to open it, but could not turn a single page. Suddenly the old man from the painting leapt out of his book and darted into another. Shen Mu hurriedly drew that book out, and this time the book could be opened.
He turned the pages and saw that it was a genealogy.
"First generation: the Founding Emperor, of the Shen line, taboo name Ye, lord of all under heaven.
. . " Shen Mu was stunned.
"The Founding Emperor -- the one whose single sword opened the dynasty and set a sea of blood? This emperor is surnamed Shen too.
He shares my surname. " The genealogy was very thick, recording in a few scant words the lives and marriages of one Shen after another.
Shen Mu leafed through it quickly, searching for the old man from the painting.
When he reached the final page, he saw written there: "One hundred and seventh generation: Fengqing, son of the one named Hanzhen.
" And here the genealogy broke off.