Chapter Sixty-Four: The Wind Lord Feilian

After assigning their respective duties, Huangfu Song and Lu Zhi inquired with Xu Kang about the specifics of borrowing the wind.

Huangfu Song, being impatient by nature, immediately asked, “What do you need to borrow the wind, Nephew? I shall prepare it at once!”

Judging by his demeanor, it seemed as if he could have everything ready the moment Xu Kang spoke.

Lu Zhi, though silent, showed by his expression that he was thinking much the same as Huangfu Song.

Seeing the eagerness on their faces, Xu Kang was tempted to agree immediately, but he knew that would not do.

After all, Lu Zhi had just mentioned that it was the early summer, which, according to the ancient calendar, included the fourth, fifth, and sixth lunar months. This meant that the midsummer gale recorded in history was still about a month away.

If he agreed now, how would he endure the wait for an entire month?

Clearly, he could not consent too readily. Thus, he clasped his hands to Lu Zhi and Huangfu Song once more.

“Uncle, Master, I know you are both anxious to rid the land of the Yellow Turban scourge, but the winds are governed by the Wind Bureau of Heaven. Each month, the guardians of the wind take their turn on duty. The guardian I am acquainted with is not yet in office this month, so I cannot yet borrow the wind.”

“Heaven? The Wind Bureau?” At Xu Kang’s words, Lu Zhi and Huangfu Song exchanged astonished glances.

The Eastern Han was the dawn of Daoism; a complete pantheon had yet to emerge, and the only formal scripture was the “Scripture of Great Peace.” The Way of Great Peace founded by Zhang Jue and the Five Bushels of Rice Sect by Zhang Daoling were among the first organized Daoist movements.

In this era, where most spiritualists were still groping in the dark, Xu Kang’s knowledge was systematic and profound—he spoke with authority and depth, naturally aweing his listeners.

Armed with nothing but a “Journey to the West,” one could travel the world—who would dare question him?

Lu Zhi and Huangfu Song were clearly impressed, feeling they had chanced upon some significant secret, their curiosity further piqued.

Yet they knew well to prioritize, so they set aside their questions about the heavenly realm for the moment, focusing on the business of the wind.

“You say the wind is managed by the Wind Bureau, and the guardians each serve by turns. When, then, will the one you know be on duty?” asked Lu Zhi.

“Yes, if it takes too long, I fear…” added Huangfu Song.

Noting their concern, Xu Kang laughed, waving his hand as he did so.

“Uncle, Master, you need not worry. The wind guardian I know is named Feilian—a spirit with a bird’s head, a deer’s body, and a serpent’s tail, bearing horns upon his brow. He once visited Penglai Island, where I poured tea for him. He told me he would be on duty in the fifth lunar month, at midsummer. When that time comes, I will borrow the wind from him.”

Seeing him speak so confidently, the eyes of Lu Zhi and Huangfu Song grew ever wider.

Upon hearing that the wind could be borrowed in the fifth month, their joy was evident.

“In the fifth month the wind can be borrowed? Wonderful! But we must not be remiss. We should at once build an altar to honor Feilian the Immortal and show our sincerity!” exclaimed Lu Zhi.

“My brother speaks true,” Huangfu Song replied. “I will immediately order a nine-foot high platform to be constructed. You must quickly paint the image of Feilian the Immortal, so that I may offer it in worship!”

“Indeed, that is wise!”

Their discussion concluded, Huangfu Song hurried off in excitement, while Lu Zhi, eager and animated, rushed into his study, calling Xu Kang to follow.

“Come, help your master grind the ink, and advise me as I paint. Let us ensure I capture Feilian’s likeness—it would not do to offend the Immortal!”

“Uh… Very well!” With Lu Zhi so insistent, Xu Kang could only agree and followed him into the study.

Inside, Xu Kang began grinding ink while Lu Zhi paced the room with his hands behind his back, deep in thought.

He halted, closed his eyes, and recited, “The ‘Li Sao’ of the Songs of Chu says: ‘Wangshu leads the way ahead, Feilian drives the wind behind.’ The common folk believe the Lord of the Wind is an old man with white beard, holding a wheel in his left hand and a fan in his right. Yet few know he is a spirit with a bird’s head, a deer’s body, a serpent’s tail, and horns upon his brow!”

Eyes snapping open, he revealed a flash of understanding.

“Being a spirit who has attained the Way, it is no wonder his temperament is wild—hence the calamities of wind in the world!”

Having formed Feilian’s image in his mind, he strode to his desk, seized a brush, and began to paint.

Swiftly, a lively image emerged on the pale yellow silk: a spirit with a bird’s head, deer’s body, serpent’s tail, and horns atop his head. Feilian’s face was fierce, holding a wheel in one hand, a fan in the other, standing atop a cloud—vivid and alive.

A single glance and Xu Kang knew this was precisely the Feilian of legend. He raised his thumb in praise, exclaiming, “Master, your skill is remarkable!”

Lu Zhi beamed with delight. “You think it really resembles him?”

“Indeed, it does! This is Feilian’s very likeness.” Xu Kang nodded earnestly as he spoke.

With this sincere approval, Lu Zhi was fully at ease. Carefully, he dried the ink and put the painting away.

Once finished, he turned to Xu Kang again.

“Tell me, does Feilian the Immortal have any particular likes? What offerings should we prepare?”

“Uh… well…” Xu Kang was unsure, and did not dare to fabricate an answer.

Fortunately, from Lu Zhi’s earlier words, Xu Kang had learned that it was customary in the Eastern Han to make offerings to the Lord of the Wind. So he replied vaguely, “The usual offerings will suffice.”

Then, as if recalling something, he hastily added, “But never use human blood! That is a practice for appeasing evil spirits. Feilian is now an immortal, and such would only anger him!”

He spoke with utmost seriousness, determined to avert another bloody disaster like the one at the Grand Commandant’s mansion.

Seeing his earnestness, Lu Zhi nodded solemnly.

“I understand. We shall offer peaches and plums, and on the day we borrow the wind, sacrifice cattle and sheep. What think you?”

“That will do.”

Having settled these matters, dusk had descended.

Noting that Huangfu Song had not returned, being busy with the altar, Lu Zhi ordered the kitchen to serve the meal, and he and Xu Kang ate together.

By the time their meal was finished, night had fallen. Xu Kang rose, clasped his hands, and took his leave.

“Master, I have been away from the camp for a day, and fear there may be changes. I cannot tarry any longer, and must take my leave now.”

“You are leaving so soon?” Lu Zhi was taken aback, then nodded. “Very well, since it concerns the camp, I will not keep you. I shall send someone to escort you out of the city.”

He turned to call for help, but before he reached the door, Xu Kang stopped him.

“Master, there is no need. I will not be leaving through the city gate.”

“Not through the city gate?” Lu Zhi was puzzled. “Then how will you leave?”

Seeing his confusion, Xu Kang smiled once again.

“Do not worry—I have my own way.”