[Listening to their conversation, you recalled the old man's name.]
[When Zou Lin headed north years ago, a court historian had furiously cursed the reigning Emperor.]
[The Emperor flew into a rage, and an edict to execute nine generations of his clan had already been drafted.]
[Zou Lin went to his death with righteous fervor, leaving behind the words: "All my life, I have wronged none more than my wife and daughter."]
[After hearing of it in the Northern Region, you wrote a letter and sent it to Kyoto.]
[It was not sent to the palace, nor was it addressed to Zou Lin.]
[It was merely an ordinary letter home to your mother in Kyoto, except for one final sentence.]
["The north is bitterly cold and offers little entertainment. I have recently taken a liking to the Way of Black and White. Sorry for the trouble, Mother, but please send me a copy of the Chess Manual to relieve my boredom."]
[The news spread!]
[The next day, copies of the book had sold out across all of Kyoto, and even the rice paper used for reproductions was swept clean.]
[For a time, paper became dear in Kyoto.]
[The author of that Chess Manual was Zou Lin.]
[The edict to execute nine generations ultimately went no farther than outside the palace, where it was replaced with a verbal decree demoting the Ministry of Rites by one rank.]
[In the end, Zou Lin resigned and left office.]
[Before leaving, he went to Lu Manor and personally copied out a Chess Manual for your mother.]
[You could not help but feel deeply moved. You had not expected more than ten years to have passed already.]
[The years raced like a horse urged on by the whip, never waiting for anyone!]
[The atmosphere in