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No one knew where Ji Zixun came from. During the Eastern Han, he arrived in Luoyang and called on high officials at several dozen residences, bringing to each a measure of wine and a slice of dried meat. “I have come from afar and have nothing to offer,” he said. “Please accept this small token of my regard.” Though hundreds were seated at the gatherings, they ate and drank all day without exhausting his gifts. After he left, everyone saw white clouds rising, from dawn until dusk. At the time, a man a hundred years old said, “When I was a little boy, I saw Zixun selling medicines in the market at Kuaiji. He looked just as he does now.” Zixun had no wish to remain in Luoyang, and so he slipped away. During the Zhengshi era, someone saw him at Bacheng, east of Chang’an, stroking a bronze statue together with an old man. They said to each other, “It seems only a moment ago that we saw this being cast, yet nearly five hundred years have passed.” The onlooker called out, “Master Ji, wait a moment!” Zixun answered as he walked on. He seemed to be moving slowly and at ease, yet even a galloping horse could not catch him.