Passing through the Jianghuai region, he stopped for the night at a post station.

His vanguard reported back: "There is something strange within this station; lodging here will surely bring trouble."

Master Zhang paid no heed.

As night deepened, he sat fully robed and sword-belted.

Suddenly, the sound of leather boots approached, and there appeared an old man with white hair, wearing dark gauze and a black sash.

Intrigued, Zhang questioned him.

The old man replied, "I am the vault keeper. I have long awaited your arrival to safeguard the gold and silver entrusted to me. Now that you are here, this humble servant is greatly relieved."

Zhang inquired, "What is the inventory?" The reply came: "Twenty-three thousand, five hundred pieces of gold."

Fearing the burden of such wealth, Zhang agreed with the old man: he would return to verify the inventory upon his departure.

The old man bowed low and withdrew.

Upon reaching Hunan, Zhang distributed generous gifts.

On his return journey, staying at the same post station, the old man came out to greet him.

Zhang asked about the vault contents, and the old man stated, "They have already been allocated as provisions for the Liaodong troops."

Zhang was vexed by this inconsistency in word and deed.

The old man explained, "The wealth and fortune in this mortal world are allotted by fixed measure; not a single fraction can be added or subtracted. My lord, the amount due to you on this journey has been received; what more can you desire?" With these words, he departed.

Zhang then calculated his earnings, which precisely matched the initial vault inventory, and only then did he understand: every sip and every bite is preordained by fate, nothing can be forced.