Pure Yang Zi

Outside Chang'an City, Tang Dynasty, beside the official road.

A modest Yuelai Inn glowed with dim yellow lamplight in the dusk.

There were few guests in the inn's main hall, only two or three tables occupied.

At one of them sat a scholar in a blue robe, its color washed pale from wear.

He looked to be about twenty, with handsome, refined features. Yet a lingering gloom and weariness clouded his brow. He was Lü Yan.

He had lost count of how many times he had failed the examinations.

He had studied hard for over a decade, certain his learning was second to none, yet every autumn examination left him among the unsuccessful candidates.

His travel funds were nearly gone, and his prospects looked bleak...

Lü Yan sighed and silently gnawed at a hard flatbread, eating it with a plate of pickled vegetables.

"Are you on your way to the capital to take the examinations, young sir?"

A gentle voice sounded beside him.

Lü Yan looked up. A plump old man with a kindly smile had somehow taken the seat opposite him and was gazing at him with a beaming expression.

It was Han Zhongli, disguised as an old man.

"This young scholar is Lü Dongbin, on his way to the capital to sit the examinations. May I ask what advice you have for me, old sir?"

Lü Yan set down his flatbread and cupped his hands politely.

Though down on his luck, he still observed the proper courtesies.

"I wouldn't presume to offer advice."

Han Zhongli waved his fan as he studied Lü Yan. The longer he looked, the more certain he grew. Though faint, that trace of pure-yang Daoist aura truly resided in the young man's soul.

"I see sorrow in your brow, young sir. Are you troubled