At the end of the winter of Jian'an 12 (207 CE), Liu Bei's (劉備) Dilu (的盧) was passing before a small marketplace in Xinye (新野).

The market was small. A dozen or so traders were packing up their stalls under the fading sunlight. Among them, one man stood leaning on a wooden staff, singing a low song. The words were odd.

"When heaven grows heavy, the earth will turn over; when a great tree leans, the sparrow flies off first. When a man is sunk in mire, whose hand will reach down to take his?"

The man broke off his line briefly before the head of Liu Bei's passing horse. Then he lifted his face and looked at Liu Bei. His gaze was firm. He wore no beard yet. He looked to be in his early thirties.

"The passing general has kindly cut off this man's song, just in time."

So the man said. Liu Bei dismounted.

"Your name, may I ask it?"

"Shanfu (單福), I am called. My style-name I keep hidden for now."

Liu Bei smiled. A man who does not offer his name and style-name together is a man who keeps himself hidden. And yet that hiding, it seemed, was not meant to last long in this marketplace today; the gaze was too clear.

"Master Shan. My own name is Liu Bei (劉備); my style-name is Xuande (玄德). At present, I hold a small force at Xinye (新野)."

Shanfu's eyes flashed clear. He did not smile, nor did he startle. Instead he stepped forward, and laid a hand upon the brow of Liu Bei's Dilu.

"The white strand upon this brow has, as of today, saved its master."

Liu Bei nodded. In a single day, two men had read this horse aright. One was Master Water Mirror of last autumn; the other, the man today called Shanfu.

"General. The single stroke upon this horse's brow is a stroke that will save his master one more time. But one more time there must be."

"When you say one more…"

"It means that this horse has yet to save its master one more time. Only after he has saved a second time will the white stroke upon this brow find its true seat."

Shanfu's voice was not light. Liu Bei dismounted fully, and stepped a pace closer to him.

"Master. This evening, would you not come with me as far as Xinye?"

Shanfu was long silent. Then he quietly shifted his grip on his staff.

"The general's rhythm has been cut off in this marketplace today. To join that cut rhythm up again is, perhaps, the work this man's small weight has to do."

That night, in the guest hall at Xinye, Liu Bei, Guan Yu (關羽), Zhang Fei (張飛), and Shanfu sat facing one another.

Guan Yu looked long at Shanfu's face. Zhang Fei at first sat with his eyes bulged, but with every sentence Shanfu spoke, without noticing, he nodded. Shanfu's speech was short and firm. The conclusion came first. The reason came after, in a single sentence.

"General. Cao Cao's (曹操) southward march is not next year, but next summer. In the interval, General, you must prepare two things."

"Which two things?"

"First, at Fancheng (樊城), you must press down, in advance, one crest of Cao Ren's (曹仁) southward movement. If you do not press it down, next spring Cao Ren will come into the yard of Xinye itself. Second, within Jingzhou, you must now, without fail, meet one man."

"Who is that one man?"

Shanfu smiled. The smile was heavy.

"Master Water Mirror has, I hear, already handed Your Lordship two epithets. That one man is one of those two. Today I shall not give you the name first. Before the name enters your mouth, let me first set next spring's Fancheng in order for you."

Liu Bei bowed his head deeply.

"Master Shan. From today, would you take on the role of my Commander-Counselor (軍師)?"

Shanfu was long silent. Then he answered quietly.

"General. One thing I shall say to you in advance. This man's name is not the Shanfu you have heard today. A day will come when I shall give you my true name. Around the time that name enters, this man may have to leave your side."

"Why, is that so?"

Shanfu did not answer for a moment. He only set one end of his staff lightly upon the floor.

"This man still has a mother, yet in this world. That mother's stride may, one day, go on before my own stride. Until then, I shall lengthen the general's breath, a measure or two at a time."

Guan Yu bowed his head. Zhang Fei's eyes reddened. For a long while Liu Bei said nothing. Then he laid his own two hands over Shanfu's two hands. That night, at the center of the guest hall at Xinye, Liu Bei for the first time seated at his side a person who would listen long to his own rhythm.

—