Chapter Nineteen: The Left Residence

When it came to the State of Sui, it was surprisingly Ji Mi who was most familiar with it. It turned out that Grand Shaman Zuo She lived in seclusion outside the capital, and as a child, Ji Mi had visited the place with Zhu Mo. Yet Zuo She was eccentric and cared little for the reputation of the shaman's sect; even the Marquis of Sui had to personally call upon him for divinations.

Along the way, Meng Di learned that a Wu envoy had arrived in Sui's capital, but there was no word of the King of Chu. Sensing the situation was complicated, he resolved to visit the envoy first.

A few miles north of the city lay a small lake at the foot of a mountain. Its waters were clear, and fish swam visibly beneath the surface. Several grass huts stood by the shore—Zuo She's abode.

Jing Chuo stepped forward and gently knocked on the gate. A young girl skipped out, her smile bright and welcoming.

Ji Mi spoke softly: "I am Ji Mi of Chu, here to see Grand Shaman Zuo She. I once came as a child, following Master Zhu."

"Are you of the shaman's sect?"

"I am."

The girl put on a stern face. "Teacher said, 'No visitors,'" she declared, and turned to go back inside.

Ji Mi, embarrassed, explained to her companions: Zuo She had always disapproved of the shaman's ways, being devoted solely to the art of shamanic medicine. She never expected he would refuse to see them entirely.

Shamanic medicine? Meng Di was intrigued. "Is that the method you used when I was unconscious?"

Ji Mi blushed. "I haven't studied shamanic medicine. I could only perform a shamanic dance to pray to the heavens. Luckily, Brother Meng received the spirits' protection and recovered as before."

Meng Di considered this and called out, "Young lady, I possess medical skills. I wish to seek Grand Shaman Zuo She's guidance."

The girl peeked out again, looking older than her years. "Hmph, you can't fool me. You're too young to know anything about medicine."

Meng Di, both amused and exasperated, replied, "Just tell Grand Shaman Zuo She these four words: 'observing, listening, questioning, and feeling the pulse.' He will believe me."

Seeing their humble attire and sincere demeanor, the girl, though doubtful, went in to report.

Soon, she returned to invite them inside. Jing Chuo, still a youth, stuck out his tongue at the girl, earning a glare in response.

Inside, the room was tidy and bright. An elderly man, thin and refined, sat at his desk examining a leaf. When the three entered, he did not rise but said calmly, "I am Zuo She."

Ji Mi hurried forward and bowed.

"Are you the sister of Xiong Zhen?" Zuo She addressed the King of Chu by name without formality, but Ji Mi was not offended, answering respectfully.

"In this humble hut, I admit only three types of people: not the shaman's sect, not nobles or royals, nor those seeking divination. Even the Marquis of Sui must wait outside. You and your master have broken two of these rules."

Zuo She spoke with a half-smile and then, ignoring Ji Mi's awkwardness, turned to Meng Di. "I heard from Lian'er that you wish to discuss medicine. What do those four words mean?"

Meng Di coughed lightly and bowed. "Truthfully, I do not know medicine myself."

Lian'er, the young girl, glared, thinking her suspicions confirmed—this man was sly. Both Ji Mi and Jing Chuo were astonished.

Zuo She, however, seemed unconcerned.

"When I was young, I met a stranger in the mountains who taught me the four words: observing, listening, questioning, and feeling the pulse. He said that if one could master them, it would be possible to bring the dead to life and flesh to bone."

Meng Di spun his tale earnestly—he could hardly admit it was knowledge from a previous life. The Han army valued medicine, and every unit had its own physician and medical kit. Meng Di had grown up with the military, and the medics often gave him pointers, though his interests lay more with sword and bow, so he remembered little. Those four words, however, were frequently mentioned, said to have originated from Qin Yueran, and thus left an impression.

Lian'er rolled her eyes again, certain she would not escape her teacher's reproach.

Jing Chuo, standing behind, looked on with admiration—Brother Meng's ability to bluff was truly impressive! He made it sound so real. Yet the old man seemed tough; would Meng get through?

Contrary to expectation, Zuo She believed him, nodding thoughtfully. "These four words carry deep meaning. Could you explain them briefly?"

"Observing reveals the five colors and thus the illness. Listening distinguishes the five sounds and thus the illness. Questioning uncovers the patient's cravings for the five tastes and thus the origin of the illness. Feeling the pulse at the wrist reveals the truth of the illness and which organs it affects."

"Observing reveals the illness... Lian'er, fetch the brush!" The brush was for writing; bamboo slips lay on the desk. Zuo She wrote swiftly, finishing in moments.

He studied the text repeatedly, frowning and murmuring to himself. "Observing, listening, and questioning I understand, but what is feeling the pulse? What is the wrist?"

Meng Di himself was only half-learned and dared not answer.

Zuo She pondered for a long while, then stood and bowed deeply to Meng Di. "I have heard that there are skilled physicians in the Central Plains, but never had the fortune to meet one. Such miraculous methods you share without reservation, revealing your generous spirit."

Meng Di protested modestly and hastened to bow in return.

Carefully storing the slips, Zuo She invited the three to sit. Meng Di, curious, asked, "Grand Shaman Zuo She, do you dislike the shaman's sect?"

Zuo She brought out freshly brewed tea, offering it to his guests. He sipped, savoring it with closed eyes, and then spoke slowly, "How much do you know of shamans, young man?"

Meng Di hesitated, looking to Ji Mi. Ji Mi replied, "Shamans communicate with spirits."

"That was Master Zhu's teaching, I suppose?" Zuo She smiled faintly. "Shamans have existed since ancient times, and the people of Chu especially revere them. From the monarch down to the common folk, all honor the shamans."

He continued, "Chu shamans fall into three categories: ritual, divination, and medicine. Rituals are vague and unverifiable. Divination—using yarrow stalks and turtle shells, mere dead things—to predict fortune and fate, how absurd! As for shamanic medicine, I have spent my life immersed in it, but have I ever truly saved a life? At best, it comforts and soothes the mind. Thus, shamans are nothing more than charlatans."

The group was stunned. Ji Mi's face flushed, but she dared not argue. Who would have expected such a rebellious stance from a grand shaman?

Zuo She seemed pleased by their reactions and continued, "In Chu, all officials below the Prime Minister claim the title of shaman. Yet nowadays, few practice divination, and when they do, it is merely to fool the masses. The shamans wish to rule the state through their arts—how laughable!"

So that's the origin of the shaman's sect! Meng Di finally understood.

Zuo She, delighted by the new medical knowledge, spoke at length. Seeing his guests deep in thought, he did not rush them but slowly savored his tea.

Fortunately, Meng Di remembered their purpose and steered the conversation back.

Though reclusive, Zuo She was well informed about Sui, and with just a few words, he explained the situation clearly.

Ji Mi, hearing of the dire circumstances, soon forgot the earlier debate about shamanic arts, tearfully turning to Meng Di.

"Grand Shaman Zuo She, is there any way?" Meng Di could not bear Ji Mi's distress.

"What way? At worst, hand over Xiong Zhen. With so many princes in Chu, just crown another as king."

Could it be that simple? Ji Mi burst into tears.

Meng Di saw Zuo She wink mischievously, realizing he was joking. Meng Di quickly stood and bowed, asking solemnly, "Please advise us, sir!"

"There is one method you may try, but let the gift of medical knowledge count as my reward."

"Agreed!"