Chapter 250: Look Up, Look Down and then Laugh
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Fan Xian's movement was clumsy. He was chopping the air in a misdirected, almost zany manner. There was no finesse to his movement and to coincide with each wave of his hand, he would let out a gentle gust of wind. And so that is what he did for a while, bluntly slashing the air in Haitang's vicinity, not even coming close. He did not want to harm or deliver the lightest of bruises to Haitang, so he continued to do this for a while, where the furthest extent of his attacks would only make her clothes flutter.
What kind of technique was this? Well, this was inspired by a singer from his past life, Wu Bai, who always had a number of electric fans positioned below the stage blowing cool air on him. It was like when Stephen Chow would use fans to create special effects in his films to make it look like the actors' sleeves were moving.
Haitang's clothes were ruffled like clouds and she was visibly smiling in between each gust. Alongside the water stream that adorned the palace's hall, she could have been mistaken for a fairy lost in the wind. She would raise her arms to point east, and then west, and then in all manners of different directions. She feigned to fight like a real palace girl would.
They had been fighting for a while, but there had yet to develop the sight of smoke, sparks or even fire, as was traditionally expected in the clashing of two powerful zhenqi energies. Neither of them wanted to spill each other's blood, so gently did they continue. It could be compared to the vegetarian food served at temples, which was boring enough to make people vomit.
Even the young eunuch could see that these two masters were indeed faking their combat. That's not to mention all the high-ranking officers and nobles within the hall that were each and all thinking the same thing. Chancellors had seen through their facade a long time ago, but they did not expect to see them continue with the farce and truly falsify a whole battle, in complete disregard of the monarchy.
Empress Dowager stared at the stage that had been established in the hall, and seeing the flickering shadows of the two who ought to have been fighting, she couldn't help but groan. She did not lose her temper outright, but if one looked close enough, one could see the wrinkles of her eye portray a look of frustration. On the contrary, however, the young emperor who watched Haitang and Fan Xian deliver their act, suspended in mid-air, was delighted.
Lang Tao's face was calm as he watched them both fight. From first-hand experience, he knew that Fan Xian was falsifying the inaccuracy of attacks, but he could see the moves he was actually employing were real and took extreme skill to perform. One strike in particular was called the Coffin-Breaker technique. This was a legendary ability, devised by the Ye family of the southern Qing Kingdom. How could someone who possessed the surname Fan have learned it?
The rest of the onlookers could not help but feel disappointed at their display. They had watched for so long, many began yawning. A eunuch in the front shook his head and asked, "How long will this fight go on for? Neither of them will win or lose, anyway."
Wang Qinian felt a pang of shame and said, "I think it won't be long before someone calls it off."
The young eunuch couldn't believe what he was seeing and said, "All these officers that are present here today are smart and civilized, so it's not as if they'd all begin yelling to call it off."
Wang Qinian began to argue with the eunuch and made a bet with the young fellow as to when the two dancers on stage would put an end to their performance. Several people that were beside them took notice of this little quarrel, and so they joined in too; each partaking in the wager. One bet a box of sea urchins, and another bet two cucumbers. And so that's how it went, for there were numerous people betting upon different foods of the banquet.
"Ridiculous!"
At long last, a chancellor who had watched Empress Dowager's expression sink further and further into frustration, slammed the table and angrily said, "This is Empress Dowager's birthday; how dare you both slander it with deceit! Are you honestly trying to fool Her Majesty?"
These words were not pretty, and the chancellor himself had demonstrated great disrespect by rudely shouting. No matter how ugly the world had become, it was said, whoever begins shouting at a festivity must be a spiteful person. Fan Xian and Haitang were fooling around, yes, but provided no one made a scene, the Empress Dowager herself was still willing to sit and watch. Even though it was her birthday, no harm was done by the viewing of two talented youths putting on a show.
And so with the chancellor yelling that they were cheating the monarchy, would this possess the vitriol to incite the Empress Dowager to anger? No, not at all. But as she looked upon the rude chancellor, her heart curdled with a desire to tear the lips from his face.
The Emperor was still laughing.
Fan Xian and Haitang continued their facade, ignoring the words of the chancellor that had soured the mood. Haitang began dodging as Fan Xian pushed forward. She had an elegant figure and Fan Xian possessed a pretty face, so it wasn't a too bad of a sight to keep one's eyes on. The entirety of the fight thus far had been on the stage, and now they decided to leave it and fight a few meters away from the throne. They moved around quite a bit after this and, after a while, they decided to pay the boorish chancellor a visit.
Fan Xian's hand rose at one point, and he looked to bring it down upon his table with a terrifying blow, but with an audible "Oops", he missed the target.
Haitang leapt into the air, but her maneuvers were quite slow and dull. She had two fingers raised, as if she was going to descend and drive them through Fan Xian's chest.
Somehow, in the blink of an eye, both the fighters had switched positions and the gust of wind that was to be delivered met no recipient - it just kept going.
Ahead was that crude chancellor's seat.
When Fan Xian and Haitang deployed their skills in unison, even the grandmaster Ku He could not withstand such a blow.
The low table shattered into a thousand miniscule splinters. The bottles of alcohol on the table were destroyed and all the dishes there were smashed to pieces. Strangely, the drink and saucers of the banquet were all lifted, directed, and thrown at the chancellor who had insulted them previously. When the airborne wreck settled, a single vegetable hung from his eyebrow, enoki mushrooms decorated his ear, and a carrot protruded from his mouth. To make the sight of him that much worse, he was also drenched in soup.
The hall was silenced. The officers in the hall knew that Lady Haitang and the southern commissioner were the masters of horseplay, and to not upset Empress Dowager, they held their tongues.
With the silence, Fan Xian and Haitang stopped. They stood a mere few steps away from each other, and they smiled joyfully.
Haitang looked towards the Empress Dowager and said, "Mister Fan's Coffin-Breaker technique is too powerful. I could not defend against it and so I deflected it towards that chancellor's table. Please forgive me!"
Fan Xian acted in a self-deprecating manner also, saying "Even graceful horses stumble on occasion!"
Empress Dowager loved Haitang, so she did not harbor any animosity towards her. And since it was her birthday, a little bit of goofing about to lighten the atmosphere was a good thing. She didn't say a word to Fan Xian, but in response to his post-performance humility, she gave a smile of appreciation.
The emperor was beaming with joy, and all the officers of the room began laughing at the antics that had just unraveled before them. Only the real fighters could acknowledge the great care and deliberation that went into the performance Haitang and Fan Xian had put on for them. The execution of the Coffin-Breaker technique was made to look extremely clumsy, but the lethality of the move was still there in full display. Haitang's sword-finger technique looked gentle, but that too possessed tremendous force. And though it was done as if it were a merry dance, it was made to look as if Fan Xian lost.
When the fight ended, sunlight was still coming in through the skylights of the ceiling. Fan Xian and Haitang stood in a particular sunbeam, and both of them looked beautiful and gloriously incandescent. In the water, the sunbeam was reflected, giving the image of a bright lamp.
That fight had been a humorous one, indeed.
But now the day was fading, and the night now sought to shroud the palace in darkness. The moon was half-risen, but it was enough to shine through and illuminate the northern Qi's palace grounds. The long black eaves and the grey and white walls of the palace looked ever more beautiful during the nighttime.
During this time, the officers began to take leave of the hall. Around the palace, garrisons of officers decorated the walls in absolute protection of the monarchy's abode. Many eunuchs lined up along the road leading out of the palace and it wasn't long before everyone had left, leaving the palace quiet once more. In the plaza, there was nary a soul in sight. In the time it would take to burn through a single incense stick, everyone had departed.
Following the big banquet, the Empress Dowager was rubbing her temples as she returned to her chamber. Fan Xian, however, was requested to remain and wait in Huaying Palace by the Emperor himself. The palace was extremely quiet, and numerous scented candles tintilated his nostrils as Fan Xian waited. It crossed his mind to think that the Emperor should have been with his mother now, so he was perplexed as to why he was asked to wait around here.
The chambermaids brought him tea and fruit to ease the wait, to which Fan Xian smiled and thanked them all. He thought they were strikingly charming. They looked shy, and this made Fan Xian's heart pound.
But when Fan Xian thought of the Emperor making him wait all alone in the palace at night, and thinking of the Emperor's tendency to not really care much for the building of relationships with other women, Fan Xian quivered.
"The Emperor has matters that need to be dealt with; those that could benefit from your aid." There was a lady beside Fan Xian, and it appeared as if she shared the same concerns that he did. What she had just spoken of, however, was said calmly. It was Haitang who was speaking. Fan Xian stayed in the palace as a guest, so it was only natural for her to be somewhat of a host. She was reflecting upon what they did together in the hall earlier that day, and thought it was tremendously funny. It seemed as if whenever they were together, the two would always become involved in a series of absurd events.
Fan Xian smiled, but did not respond.
A eunuch began shouting something outside the palace, and a hurried chorus of footsteps could be heard quickly approaching Huaying Palace. Fan Xian wondered what was happening. What could the emperor possibly desire of me? He is the emperor; aside from ruling the whole world, is there anything he could not do without my aid?
As Fan Xian continued to question himself, the emperor arrived and stepped into the palace. As he approached, he signaled to Haitang and Fan Xian that there was no need for formal greetings, and he then used his right hand to throw his coat into the arms of a eunuch. The emperor was now only wearing a thin layer of clothing. The emperor reclined upon a sofa, lifting his legs to allow a eunuch to remove his boots; to which the eunuch carefully did. Only thin socks remained on his feet.
Perhaps Haitang was used to seeing this private, informal side of the Emperor, for she did not look concerned. Fan Xian, however, did. The Qing Kingdom's emperor would never reveal this side of himself to anyone else; but there was the Qi Kingdom's emperor getting uncomfortably comfortable on the couch. Fan Xian looked upon his chest and feet twice.
Neither big, nor small.
His chest was not big and his feet were not small.
Chapter 251: Even the Emperor Gossips
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
"Mother enjoys quiet." The young emperor leaned against his cushion. A eunuch brought some swallow's nest soup, which the emperor drank. The emperor then frowned slightly and dismissed all the eunuchs and palace girls. For the moment, the entire hall was silent.
Fan Xian gave a light bow. "What are your orders, Your Majesty?"
Seeing this official from the south being so polite, a hint of amusement flashed in the emperor's eyes. "Minister Fan, you will be returning in a few days. You must treat the Great Princess well on the journey."
Fan Xian was slightly shocked; only now did he remember the recent major event which he hadn't been paying attention to. Taking the princess back to Qing for her marriage was a huge responsibility; there was absolutely no room for error. In the past few days, Fan Xian had learned about the background of this Great Princess from Yan Bingyun. She was the half-sister of the emperor, born from a different mother, and resided deep within the palace. Her mother was most likely dead long ago. Because she wasn't liked by the empress dowager, she ended up being the "sacrifice" for this political marriage.
Fan Xian didn't know why the emperor brought her up; he probably wasn't too close to his half-sister.
Judging by the way the emperor spoke, Fan Xian realized he had guessed wrong. The emperor sighed. "The Great Princess has never ventured outside the palace. Now with her being married far down south, I am unable to offer her more protection, despite my position."
Fan Xian replied humbly, "Rest assured, Your Majesty. The Great Prince is my nation's greatest hero, admired by all. Together they are sure to live a long life of harmony. All civil servants of Qing surely would not dare to show her neglect."
The emperor laughed coldly. "What's the use in that?" He suddenly stared into Fan Xian's eyes. "Minister Fan, I see you as my friend… I hope that you, back in your southern capital, will give plenty of advice to the princess and ensure she lives well."
Fan Xian was shocked again. Friends with the emperor? He and the emperor had only met each other four times in total.
The emperor smiled, knowing what Fan Xian was thinking. "Minister Fan, back when we first met, I told you I enjoy your works, so much so that I treat them as you talking in person. Having 'talked' with you for the past year, it's really not strange to see you as my friend."
At this point, being so favored by the emperor had Fan Xian feeling genuinely overwhelmed. As he was about to express his gratitude, the light voice of the emperor rang out again, this time with a hint of anger.
"But you seem to be keeping your distance. You refusing to visit me aside…" The emperor was looking directly into Fan Xian's eyes. "You are keeping many things from me."
Fan Xian, in great distress, explained, "I have a great number of things to attend to. I was worried coming to the palace would disturb Your Majesty's rest."
The emperor took a glance at Haitang, who had been quiet thus far, and laughed suddenly. "Really? I thought recently you've been busy with Haitang, strolling the streets and… drinking."
With that, even Haitang became unsettled. She said, "I often consulted Sir Fan for his wisdom. I have learned much."
The emperor shook his head and returned his gaze to Fan Xian, "In that case, Minister Fan, how long do you intend on keeping 'that' hidden from me?"
A drop of cold sweat appeared on Fan Xian's head, his first thought being—had that meeting with Si Lili been exposed? If so, even assuming this emperor has no interest in women, Fan Xian probably wouldn't leave Northern Qi alive!
Fan Xian looked out of the corner of his eye and discovered Haitang's face was at ease. So he calmed himself and respectfully asked, "Your Majesty, I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about?"
No one should know about Xiao En, although Haitang might be able to guess parts of what had happened. As long as the emperor wasn't talking about Si Lili, Fan Xian was certain he wouldn't feel any guilt or fear. However, what the emperor said next almost scared Fan Xian out of his seat. Tonight, surprises kept coming one after another!
"Then, let me ask you, how is cousin Lin?" the emperor asked coldly.
Like a clap of thunder, like that young girl shouting to heaven on that stormy night, Fan Xian was dumbfounded, unable to answer—how could this emperor know Wan'er was Fan Xian's cousin?! In other words, this emperor knew Fan Xian's true past!
Impossible! Impossible! No more than five people in this world knew Fan Xian's true past, and none of those five would expose it.
But the problem was, with all the power the emperor commanded, could he really have discovered the truth? Or else why would he ask about… Fan Xian's wife, his cousin?
The emperor coldly stared at the panicking Fan Xian. He slapped down his hand hard and ordered harshly, "Speak!"
Fat chance!
Fan Xian was mostly faking his expression of panic; inside he kept his calm. He hooked his left pinky slightly, but remembered he did not bring his black dagger becaused he feared that Haitang would make a connection to what happened at the cliffs.
Fight? He couldn't win against Haitang. Flee? If Northern Qi exposed his identity, all the Qing princes would be after him like a bunch of starving tigers, let alone those women in the palace…
Fan Xian coughed twice, his smile reappearing on his face. Since the emperor had spoken to him directly, this must be a threat, which was why Fan Xian decided to continue to play dumb, so that he could listen to the emperor's conditions. "Your Majesty, what are you saying?"
The emperor stood up, too lazy to put on his shoes, and walked straight towards Fan Xian. His expression turned from slight anger to slight amusement, mixed with just a hint of excitement and anticipation.
Fan Xian was taken aback by this, further convinced that this young emperor was a little weirdo.
The emperor laughed as he put his hands on Fan Xian's shoulders and shook him, "Minister Fan, oh Minister Fan. You made me suffer so much hiding it from me. You made the people of the world suffer so much hiding it from them."
"What?" Fan Xian had long disregarded any drastic measures and stared stupidly at the face which was only centimeters from his own. He discovered this emperor was good-looking, and he smelled rather fresh from being washed daily. Haitang, looking at His Majesty's feverishness and Fan Xian's stupefied expression, couldn't hold back her laughter.
"Mister Cao!" The emperor shook Fan Xian again, "Mister Cao! Hurry and tell me, did Sister Lin end up with Bao Yu…?"
While he didn't know how the emperor had guessed it, Fan Xian finally understood what was going on. No longer able to withstand the stress, he dropped back into his chair. Before saying anything, he first raised his teacup and drank.
The emperor looked at Fan Xian, "If you don't read the rest of Story of the Stone to me today, I won't allow you to leave the palace."
Fan Xian sighed, "How did Your Majesty know it was I who wrote it?"
The emperor looked at Haitang, who smiled back and said, "The book is only being printed at Danbo Bookstore, while this Mister Cao always keeps himself hidden from the public. Other than the bookstore, no one knows who he is. With how famous the book has become, there are countless number of people guessing Mister Cao's identity. Sir Fan, when we drank together a few days ago, you seemed to have spoken a bit much, so I took a few guesses. His Majesty confronting you today is more of a test. Since you admitted it, then that means I had guessed correctly."
Fan Xian could only smile uneasily. Right now, he didn't exactly need to be known as the author of Story of the Stone. Hearing this emperor call out "Mister Cao" so endearingly almost made Fan Xian mistake him for Guo Jia. As it turned out, the emperor was also a fan of the book.
Having confirmed that Fan Xian was the author, the emperor was greatly pleased, "Hurry and tell me, how many girls did Bao Yu take in by the end?"
The emperor turned out to be a fan of the harem genre. Fan Xian waved his hand and pleaded, "Your Majesty, I only wrote those sixty-or-so chapters on a whim. I haven't figured out how to continue the story." Fan Xian recalled back to his time in Danzhou, when Ruoruo asked him for the story, how he thought about problems regarding the draft, renewal, and eunuchs. It was complicated indeed.
The emperor frowned and took a look at Haitang. Suddenly he leaned in and whispered in Fan Xian's ear, "The Haitang Poem Club in chapter thirty-seven… what does it have to do with Haitang?"
In his peripheral vision Fan Xian could see Haitang was eavesdropping, so he smiled and replied boldly, "Your Majesty, authors shouldn't disclose themselves. I beg your pardon."
The emperor had a look on his face. He then said, "Then you must return quickly to write a new chapter, and also remember to mail a copy here."
Fan Xian accepted the order in fright, daring not to say anything more.
Chapter 252: Carry on the Torch
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
In the woods, two people were walking on the stone-paved path of the palace. In the sky was a full moon. Fan Xian's back was entirely drenched, chilling him despite it being a summer night. He sighed and patted his chest—there was still some residual fear—and complained to Haitang: "You guessed I was the… author. Then why didn't you say something to me? That emperor of yours almost scared me to death."
Haitang laughed. "It's your fault for fooling everyone for so long." She rolled her eyes. "Say, if it wasn't about your identity as the author, what could His Majesty possibly say that would make you so afraid?"
Fan Xian didn't even think about his answer. He smiled warmly and asked, "What do you think?"
The corner of Haitang's lips curled up just so slightly, but she didn't say anything. Fan Xian tilted his head and saw there was a charming silver glow to her long eyelashes, while her eyes, the most striking feature of her face, were exceptionally bright in the night. There was no denying that the moonlight was magical. Its silver haze seemed to be able to turn any ordinary-looking woman into a living fairy.
Fan Xian didn't feel much, however, and simply put his hands behind his back and continued to walk slowly. "You got me this time. But, I'm not looking for payback. You should know why."
"You want me to help you with something." Haitang smiled. "While I don't know what, I suspect it has to do with the south, which is why you want an outsider like me to help you."
"Correct. You and I… are both hypocrites." Fan Xian smiled in a strange way, partly to mock himself. "Which is why we could be more direct when talking with each other. The thing I need your help with might happen, or it might not. Regardless, when the time comes, I'll send someone to inform you."
Haitang looked at him and said suddenly, "I heard you are extremely fond of that Prime Minister's illegitimate daughter, so much that you even refused to take in the maidservant your grandmother sent you from Danzhou."
"I don't like you probing around what happens in my family," Fan Xian turned around and said seriously. "Enough of this."
Haitang smiled and nodded. "Actually, I'm just curious. What kind of man is moved when he meets a woman, but feels uncomfortable when he meets a man? Who believes that an unmarried woman is a pearl, but a married woman is disgusting. Who believes that women are made of water, while men are made of mud. Who thinks women are valuable and men are contemptible…"
A long string of words later, Haitang looked into Fan Xian's eyes and said gently, "I'm very curious. The world has always respected men. Sir Fan, what are your thoughts?"
Fan Xian only smiled in return.
Haitang suddenly put on a serious expression. "Mister Fan, on behalf of all women in the world, I thank you for defending us against injustice."
Fan Xian was silent for a moment. Suddenly, he said, "I am… fundamentally different from most people in this world."
Exiting the palace gate, Haitang, to her surprise, discovered that the grand tutor was still waiting outside. Fan Xian didn't react to seeing the emperor's teacher; he had known beforehand.
Haitang saluted the grand tutor. She then turned around. "Sir, I shall come send you off in two days."
Fan Xian knew what she meant. He nodded to her and got on the grand tutor's carriage.
Watching the three carriages gradually disappear into the night, Haitang's bright gaze suddenly became disturbed for an instant. She thought about what the handsome southern official said before he left. Different from others? Well, in others' eyes, Fan Xian was certainly unique. But Haitang didn't know what Fan Xian considered unique about himself.
The carriage stopped outside a quiet yard. The troops who were assigned to guard the envoy only now realized the young genius from Southern Qing, for his last visitation in Northern Qi, was here to see this master. As everyone thought back about that night's poetry battle, stories of which had been spread across the land, they became uneasy, not knowing what Fan Xian was thinking. But seeing as they were outside a courtyard of such civility, they soon calmed down.
The Tiger Guards got out of the lead carriage and secured the few crucial checkpoints.
Fan Xian and the grand tutor of Northern Qi got out of their carriage together, hand in hand. While they didn't appear to be friendly with each other by any means, there wasn't any malice either. The surrounding company only saw the always-proper grand tutor whisper something to Fan Xian before the two of them entered the courtyard.
Fan Xian signaled his Tiger Guards not to follow.
Having arrived at a house in the yard, the grand tutor bowed deeply toward the inside. He then turned to Fan Xian and said, "Mister Fan, the master hasn't been feeling too well as of late. Please do not talk for too long."
Fan Xian politely saluted this great scholar. He adjusted his clothes and gently pushed open the door. He saw an old man writing something with a little brush.
That old man was the current master scholar, with students all over the world. Northern Qi's grand tutor and Southern Qing's great academician were both his proud disciples. Before Fan Xian came onto the scene, no one could match this old man in scholarly matters. Even after Fan Xian's victory that night, no one believed Fan Xian matched the old man in areas other than poetry.
Because this old man's name was Zhuang Mohan.
There were neither servants nor bookboys inside; only the old man in a loose, long robe writing incessantly. Occasionally he would stop to stare at the paper with a frown and to flip through the books nearby, as if trying to find some seal. Compared to last year, Zhuang Mohan seemed to be in much worse shape. His headful of gray hair was still tied back tightly, but the age spots on his cheeks had grown darker; an ominous sign.
Fan Xian did not want to bother the old man. He approached quietly and peeked over the old man's shoulder. To Fan Xian's surprise, on the old man's desk was Danbo Bookstore's Banxianzhai Poetry Anthology! The blank spaces of the anthology were filled with notes. Could this world-leading scholar be taking notes on the poems Fan Xian memorized?
With his withered finger, Zhuang Mohan pointed to a line of the anthology: "There are no rivers to one who has crossed the ocean, and no clouds to one who has scaled Mount Wu". He kept tapping on the page and said, somewhat painfully, "This doesn't work. The aesthetic of contrasting words is empty; the latter half of the line really doesn't work. Tell me, Fan Xian, what does this mean?"
A moment of silence later, Fan Xian's gentle voice rang out, "Mount Wu is a sacred mountain in the southernmost region, surrounded by clouds yearlong. It rains in the evening and it is cloudy in the morning. All who have beheld this sight will no longer be amazed when seeing clouds in the sky anywhere else. Those two words offset the next two lines. It's about loyalty."
"I see…" Zhuang Mohan smiled bitterly and pointed at a thick book on the corner of his broad desk. "I could have guessed that. It's just that I could not find reference to this 'Mount Wu' surrounded by clouds anywhere. So it turns out it's a sacred mountain to the south. No wonder I didn't know."
Seeing that Zhuang Mohan did not realize he was making things up, Fan Xian knew this old man was a gentle and generous person. Fan Xian smiled and helped Zhuang Mohan grind ink. Fan Xian saw, filling the blank spaces of the pages, Zhuang Mohan's handwriting. Zhuang Mohan was also famous for his calligraphy, which was undisputed in quality. But now the old man's hand was shaky, and his handwriting had waned.
"In olden times, King Chen held a fabulous feast. Ten thousand casks of alcohol were enjoyed… What is that a reference to?" Zhuang Mohan asked without looking at Fan Xian.
Fan Xian felt awkward. When he published the anthology, he had purposely taken out that poem by Li Bai. Why was this old man asking about it again?
Zhuang Mohan sighed. "Since I was a young boy, I never forgot the things I saw and heard. As you can imagine, I took pride in that. On that day, you churned out poems like the rivers and seas. Inevitably, my self-esteem took a hit…" The old man laughed at himself. "But thankfully, because of that, I was able to remember all the poems you said. That was how I noticed a lot of them were missing once the anthology came out. Child, I've no clue what you're thinking."
Hearing Zhuang Mohan call him "child" gave Fan Xian a strange feeling. He tried to explain. "King Chen was a prince, surnamed Cao. Back in the day, he held a grand feast…"
"Prince Cao?" Zhuang Mohan raised his head, there was disbelief in his murky eyes, "But… there have been no dynasties with that name for millenia."
Fan Xian inwardly sighed and said, "It's something I made up. There's no need for you to bother yourself thinking about it."
"That won't do!" In certain areas, Zhuang Mohan could be described as stubborn. He flipped through the pages, pointing to another poem. "'Xiao Xie's fine, black hair'. Who is this Xiao Xie?"
Fan Xian was turning various shades of pale. A while later, he responded, "Xiao Xie was a disappointed lyricist. His works were too vulgar to be well known, but he has some fame among the common folk."
"Then…"
Time passed. Just as Fan Xian was running out of ways to reply, Zhuang Mohan finally sighed and rubbed his eyes. Throwing down his brush on the inkstone, he said, slightly dejected, "The oil lamp is burning out. I can't keep up like I used to."
The two committed themselves to this absurd task before they got the chance to greet each other. Now, Fan Xian rolled down his sleeves and bowed with extreme courtesy. "It is good to see you again, Master Zhuang. Why have I been summoned here today?"
The room became quiet. A while later, Zhuang Mohan abruptly forced his withered body to bow down to Fan Xian.
Fan Xian was so shaken up he forgot to help support the old man. Zhuang Mohan occupied one of the highest positions in the land. How could he bow to Fan Xian?
Zhuang Mohan straightened himself, his wrinkly face bursting into a smile. "It's been a year since my visit to Qing. My whole life, I conducted myself according to morals. Sir Fan, last year I tried to frame you, and my heart has never been at rest. I have called you here today to apologize for my crime."
Fan Xian was silent. Needless to say, he was aware of why Zhuang Mohan would agree to Eldest Princess's request to act so despicably and sacrifice his dignity, which he had built up over decades. It was all because of what Xiao En had explained in the agreement. This kind of brotherly bond was what Fan Xian lacked the most at the moment.
"Xiao En died." Fan Xian looked at the old man who had withered so much in a mere year.
Zhuang Mohan only smiled at Fan Xian without saying anything.
Fan Xian smiled back, knowing that had been unnecessary. Zhuang Mohan had, after all, been through many things over the course of many decades; how could he not know?
"Everybody must die sometime." Zhuang Mohan seemed to be talking to himself and Fan Xian at the same time. "That is why we must live well. My brother lived a meaningless life. He killed so many, only to come to such an end…"
Fan Xian didn't quite agree with that. "In this world, one's fame and accomplishments are built upon the most terrible crimes."
Zhuang Mohan shook his head. "Do not be that kind of person."
Not "can't"; it was a very direct "do not". Any outsider would find the conversation between these two abnormal. Their lives were simply too far apart, and their only previous meeting had been an underhanded plot. Even so, these two could express their thoughts so directly.
Perhaps it was what they call the power of books.
"Why do you say that?" Fan Xian was a bit cold.
"I am very confident." Zhuang Mohan suddenly laughed, but there was a deep sadness hidden within. "I am confident I lived a much happier life than my brother."
Fan Xian looked into the old man's eyes. "But you must be aware that, without Xiao En, you might have never gotten your current position back then."
Zhuang Mohan stared back. "But you are still unaware, when death is approaching, you shall discover that power or position or riches are all simply passing smoke."
Fan Xian was very calm and persistent. "No, when death is approaching, you may regret your whole life, regret that you never experienced anything, never indulged in anything… You are only someone who managed to obtain something ordinary people could never manage. That's the only reason you feel that way."
Zhuang Mohan shook his head helplessly. "You are still young; you have yet to know what it's like to be able to smell death closing in day by day. How would you know what you're going to think about when that time comes?"
"I know," Fan Xian said almost mechanically. "Trust me, I know."
Zhuang Mohan seemed to be getting tired and changed the topic. "I didn't think someone who could write something as deviant as Story of the Stone would still be dirt under my brush."
Fan Xian smiled bitterly. "I also didn't think rumors could spread faster than birds could fly."
Zhuang Mohan's eyes suddenly showed concern, "Sir Fan, you must be careful after you return to Qing. Story of the Stone… touches upon many taboo topics."
Fan Xian was silent. He knew that. In his moment of youth, he didn't want those words to not have a chance to appear in this world, so he wrote them down. Now that he was heavily involved in political affairs, he was very aware of how easy it would be for someone to use the book to target him. Furthermore, there was also the coincidence that even he was shocked by, and which forced him to remain cautious. Unfortunately, the emperor of Northern Qi turned out to be a fanatic; there was no way for Fan Xian to keep a secret anymore.
But Zhuang Mohan shouldn't be this concerned for him. This puzzled Fan Xian.
Zhuang Mohan seemed to have guessed what was troubling Fan Xian and smiled. "Sir Fan, other than my selfish request to confess my crime to console myself, I also want to thank you."
"Thank me?" Fan Xian frowned. Zhuang Mohan shouldn't know that Fan Xian prolonged Xiao En's life by one day.
"I thank you on behalf of all academicians in the world," Zhuang Mohan smiled, "When you first entered the Overwatch Council, you exposed all the cheating that had been occurring during examinations. The ripples stirred up by that event shook the rest of the world. His Majesty has also expressed desires to reform our examinations. Your deed will benefit so many poor students for many years to come. Sir, you may not see me as much, but out of reason, I must thank you."
Fan Xian grinned, laughing at himself. "It's all scholarly business. Is this really needed?"
Zhuang Mohan did not laugh, his murky eyes were spiritless. He hadn't done much regarding Xiao En's return, and more importantly, he didn't want to sink the entire nation into chaos. But he knew that, in this world, there were not only scholars. There were also politicians, schemers, warriors. Sometimes, their ways of doing things were even wilder and more direct.
He looked at Fan Xian, ready to say something, but then decided otherwise, since it involved Northern Qi's inner political affairs.
Much later, Fan Xian left Zhuang Mohan's residence. Fan Xian would never visit him again.
The summer heat was blasting in full force. Judging by the months, the hottest days should have already passed, but with Qi being in the northeast, the weather was still exceptionally hot, even with autumn approaching. The drizzling rain which frequented spring and early summer was nowhere to be seen. There was only the sun shining overhead, forcing people to strip down until they couldn't strip anymore.
Outside Shangjing's southern gate, a bright yellow royal carriage disappeared through it. Once again, the greenish gray city walls became the most noticeable feature to those outside the city.
Fan Xian squinted in that direction, feeling uneasy. For the Qi Emperor to send off the Qing envoy in person was a very improper thing to do. The Qi officials could not stop the emperor no matter what, so they could only gather a lot of the higher-ranking ones to come along. Even the grand tutor came. The Qing envoy was being honored plenty.
Earlier, the emperor was holding Fan Xian's hand while engaging in idle chitchat, unwilling to stop talking about things related to Story of the Stone. They attracted the attention of so many people— after great difficulty, the eccentric emperor was finally persuaded to go back. Now, outside the city, there were only Northern Qi officials. Fan Xian scanned them and saw Wei Hua. However, he did not see Chang Ninghou or Shen Zhong.
Fan Xian felt his back was soaked; he didn't know if it was from his fear of the emperor, or from the sun's heat.
It was not yet time for the envoy to depart. Fan Xian looked at the fanciest carriage at the front. In it was Northern Qi's Great Princess. Fan Xian could faintly see she was a beautiful noblewoman, but he didn't know what her personality was like. But Fan Xian wasn't worried about the journey back. Having interacted with Haitang, he had become more confident in his ability to deal with women.
A cool breeze blew by, and Fan Xian relaxed for the moment. He tugged at his tightly-buttoned shirt, wondering what kind of weird weather would bring about such a breeze. Turning around, he saw Wang Qinian waving a fan nearby with a face full of sadness.
Fan Xian couldn't help but laugh. "It will only be a year. Why are you crying like this? Your wife and children will be under my care. There's nothing to worry about."
Once the envoy departed, Yan Bingyun would go back too, meaning that Qing's Overwatch Council would have no one leading its spy system in Northern Qi for the time being. Therefore, the Council decided, Wang Qinian was to remain in Shangjing until the Council sent someone to take his place half a year later.
As the commissioner, Fan Xian held special status and didn't need to go through the normal procedures to decide on such things. Wang Qinian, however, wasn't expecting to stay behind, and was understandably unsettled and disappointed, even though he knew this experience would benefit his standing greatly.
"Sir, I cannot go a day without your presence." Wang Qinian reluctantly looked at Fan Xian.
Fan Xian grinned, "Don't start conflict with Northern Qi. Act wisely and play safe. I'll be waiting for you back in the capital in a year." He too, had grown used to Wang Qinian's company. But most importantly, Wang Qinian was his only aide in the Council. Unfortunately, there was no other choice than to have Wang Qinian stay behind.
Suddenly, a horse dashed through the city gate. Riding on it didn't appear to be an official, but a servant. All the attention was on him now. How could a civilian have been allowed through?
Fan Xian had sharp eyes and saw the face of the grand tutor darken; there was sadness in his eyes.
The servant rode up to the group and immediately got off his horse. In a crying voice, he said something to the grand tutor and gave him a cloth roll. He then pointed at the city gate.
The grand tutor wobbled, as if having received some shock. Looking at the approaching carriages, he sadly shook his head and looked back at Fan Xian. In his eyes, however, there was surprise.
He took a deep breath and walked towards Fan Xian. Fan Xian, not knowing what was going on, got off his horse to receive what the grand tutor had to give. Unraveling the cloth quickly, he discovered it was a book. On the cover was old and slightly shaky handwriting which read:
Banxianzhai Poetry Anthology: Annotated by Zhuang Mohan
The grand tutor gave Fan Xian a silent look of complex emotions and said, "Sir, Master Zhuang leaves this to you." Having said that, another layer of sadness was added onto his voice.
"Master Zhuang… has passed."
Chapter 253: The Long Pavilion, the Ancient Road, Tossing the Handkerchief
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Fan Xian gripped the tome, not knowing what to say. His meeting with Zhuang Mohan two nights ago turned out to be his last. Although on that night, he had discovered that Zhuang Mohan's health had declined since last year, Fan Xian never thought this leading scholar would depart this world so suddenly.
In his final words, Zhuang Mohan gave his last literary work to Fan Xian, a gesture which contained complex meanings.
Gradually, all the Qi officials learned of the shocking news, and a mournful atmosphere began to spread among the crowd. Most of the officials cast their glances at Fan Xian, glances which were filled with caution, hate, and suspicion.
Fan Xian knew what those Qi officials were thinking: that he was the one responsible for Zhuang Mohan's only downfall. Now that the old man was gone, even Fan Xian felt a bit sad. He intentionally took in the complex emotions behind every single glance aimed at him.
As Fan Xian was still in thought, the carriage finally arrived from the city gate, drawing all the attention to the back of the envoy. This carriage was slightly misshapen and creaking, a sign it was carrying a heavy load. The servant who had originally delivered the news led Fan Xian to that carriage. In a shaking voice, he said, "Sir Fan, in his last wish, the Old Master asks that you bring back this carriage and take good care of the contents."
The crowd had yet to recover from the news of Zhuang Mohan's death, and now they had become even more sorrowful. But at the same time, they couldn't help but be curious; what exactly did Zhuang Mohan give Fan Xian?
Fan Xian was standing, facing the bright sun, which caused him to squint. Even so, he was shaken when he saw what the carriage was carrying.
As was said, through reading one could find beautiful women, houses of gold, and sumptuous feasts.
While the carriage did not contain any beauty or jewelry, it was filled with books—Zhuang Mohan's lifetime collection, most likely. Just based on Zhuang Mohan's status, it was easy to guess that they were all rare books without even flipping through them.
The servant then gave Fan Xian a booklet. "Sir Fan, this is the Old Master's hand-written catalog. It also contains important steps on how to preserve the books."
Fan Xian sighed and closed the carriage. He read through the booklet carefully. In the current age, despite great advancements in printing technology, printing books remained a challenging task. The number of books aside, Zhuang Mohan's act of giving his books alone moved Fan Xian. He then heard the servant say, "The Old Master gave you his books hoping you could preserve them during your life."
Fan Xian knew the servant had said that on his own. Even so, he sincerely gave the servant a solute. "Brother, please rest assured. Even if I, Fan Xian, perish, these books shall continue to be passed down in this world."
The officials of Northern Qi had gathered around and saw all the books in the carriage. As they had all gone through civil examinations, all of them knew the value of those books. Never would they expect Master Zhuang to give his valuable collection to an official from the southern nation. Other than surprise, some of them were also slightly jealous.
The grand tutor knew his master's intentions and sighed.
Book-giving was a formality. In doing so, Zhuan Mohan wanted to show his intentions in a more symbolic manner. No matter how much pride each civil official of Qi had, from this point on, no one should take Fan Xian lightly. At the same time, Fan Xian's place in the eyes of all academicians finally received some sort of proper acknowledgement.
Fan Xian turned to look at the grand tutor. "It is only right that I return to Shangjing so I may pay my respects to Master Zhuang."
The grand tutor could not hide the pain in his eyes. Only the thought of going back to pay his respects to Zhuang Mohan filled his mind. Fan Xian's offer gave him some consolation, and he agreed. However, Minister Wei Hua approached. He gave a salute and said, painfully, "The world weeps at Master's passing. But everything regarding the envoy's departure has already been set. I am afraid you may not go back into the city."
After a moment of silence, Fan Xian gazed towards Shangjing's gray walls, as if he could see a faint purple light floating in the sky above. He tidied up his clothes and bowed deeply towards the city in the manner of a disciple.
The grand tutor was slightly surprised that Fan Xian was bowing in this manner. This showing of extreme respect calmed the grand tutor somewhat, and he returned a salute.
Firecrackers sounded. Nobody knew if it was sending off the envoy or for Zhuang Mohan. Pieces of paper flew in the sky, while the slightly pungent smoke dissipated after a brief moment, showing the world's impermanence.
The envoy began to slowly move west. Seeing that heavy book carriage departing with Southern Qing, the Qi officials sighed. With faces full of sorrow, they returned to put on mourning clothes and then hurry to Master Zhuang's manor. The empress dowager and the emperor should have already arrived, so no one dared be tardy. Meanwhile, the grand tutor and several great scholars taught by Zhuang Mohan almost fainted from weeping.
The envoy continued onward. As Shangjing's grand walls began to disappear behind the mountain forest, the envoy had arrived at the first courier station outside the city. According to the rules, they had to spend a night here and resume their journey back the next day. Fan Xian slowly got off his horse and walked towards the station. As he passed the carriage full of books, he couldn't help but look at it, although he forced back his desire to get in.
He walked to the carriage painted red and gold. Bowing, he said very respectfully, "We have arrived at the courier station. Princess, please rest here."
Some moments later, a faint voice said, "… Sir, please carry on as you deem fit. I wish to sit alone for a moment."
This was Fan Xian's first time hearing the princess speak. Her voice was a bit hoarse, which Fan Xian found strange. The curtain of the carriage entrance then lifted and a palace girl came out, her eyes red. She walked to Fan Xian and said quietly, "Her Highness isn't feeling too well. Please wait a moment."
Fan Xian, showing concern, said, "Her Highness needs much care. It's not surprising she isn't used to long journeys. Frequent rest is needed."
Seeing this southern official's handsome face, the palace girl for some reason developed a strange sense of trust. She told Fan Xian, "The Princess once studied under Master Zhuang. Hearing the news today has saddened her greatly."
Now Fan Xian realized what was happening. His gaze toward the carriage now contained a hint of sympathy. Crying for her teacher's passing, this princess didn't appear to be an arrogant person. As a member of the royalty, being unable to go pay her respects was indeed a sad thing.
Fan Xian sighed. He may or may not be thinking about his own background. He gave some directions to the palace girl and then summoned the Tiger Guards and important envoy members to make some arrangements. After that, he entered the station alone.
The station knew who was passing though. The staff had cleaned the place spotless and conducted themselves according to palace rules. After checking the place, Fan Xian passed through the main room and silently exited through the back door. He disappeared into the tall sorghum field behind the courier station.
Moments later, most of the envoy had entered the station. The officials from the Board of Rites were all busy, and no one noticed where Fan Xian had gone.
Outside the courier station were still two carriages with people inside. The first was occupied by the princess. People knew Her Highness was mourning and dared not to bother her. The other carriage held a handsome devil—no reason for Qi officials to care. Only the Tiger Guards and the Council officials guarded those two carriages under Fan Xian's order.
A hand lifted the window curtain on the second carriage and beckoned. It was a hand so pale it appeared cold. The Overwatch Council official walked to the window and asked, "Sir Yan, what are your orders?"
Yan Bingyun's handsome yet exceptionally chilling face appeared in the window. He asked quietly, "Where did the Commissioner go?"
In this envoy, only he addressed Fan Xian as "the Commissioner". The Council official looked at Yan Bingyun and replied, "I don't know."
Yan Bingyun frowned, as if something was inconvenient to say. He hesitated for a bit before asking, "Along the way, was there a woman dressed in light green following the envoy? She likes to ride on a red horse."
The Council official shook his head. Yan Bingyun showed no expression and put down the curtain. Having made sure Miss Shen did not take the risk to come see him, he relaxed a bit. But for some reason, he also felt a bit gloomy.
Outside the sorghum field, there was a lonely pavilion next to an ancient road that had been abandoned for ages. On the road was a carriage, and two girls stood under the pavilion.
A gust of wind blew past. There was a slight rustle among the sorghum stalks. Fan Xian walked out and slowly approached the pavilion. With warm eyes, he looked at the girls and said quietly, "I didn't think the only time for us to have a proper talk after coming to Shangjing was the time for me to leave."
Si Lili curtsied. Her voice was somewhat shaky as she said, "Sir Fan."
Fan Xian only gave a look to Haitang, who was standing to the side, not saying anything. Haitang smiled and put her hands in her pockets. Dotting the cracked ground with the tips of her feet, she floated off to a distance, leaving the pavilion to this special couple.
Once Haitang left, Fan Xian's warm expression suddenly turned serious. He said, "After you enter the palace, you must be careful. The empress dowager isn't a simple person. Fooling her won't be easy."
Si Lili looked at him, a lingering tenderness in her gaze. She said softly, "Only telling me to be careful; don't you have anything else to say?"
Fan Xian smiled, but he did not embrace her frail shoulders. He said, "Since you are so adamant in remaining in Northern Qi, why try to soften me up now? Do all women find joy in toying with men's feelings?"
Si Lili smiled, no longer as delicate as she had appeared when Haitang was present. She said, "Sir, aren't you the same? Even though I insisted on staying, for you to hurry to say that, are you afraid I would demand you to take me back?"
A sense of teasing flashed in Fan Xian's eyes. "You may one day rule the Northern Qi palace. Why suffer with people such as me?"
Si Lili laughed, "It would be nice if there were a place for me in the palace. I dare not entertain overly extravagant wishes."
Fan Xian shook his head. Suddenly, he said, "Lili, you are different from other women."
"Oh," Si Lili responded calmly. "Perhaps it was because I traveled to many places at a young age. Compared to those women who spend all their days inside doing embroidery and writing poems, I am not as conservative."
Fan Xian was silent. He knew Si Lili was right. In this world, most women stayed in their homes; not many had Si Lili's experience, or Haitang's freedom. Fan Xian looked at where Haitang had disappeared and then said to Si Lili, a bit sternly, "I believe in your abilities, but I still want to warn you: do not underestimate those who appear old and dull."
The atmosphere was becoming stagnant. A long time later, Si Lili curtsied deeply. She then said softly, "Sir, you may not believe it, but I really enjoy talking with you, just like in the carriage on the way to Qi."
Fan Xian stared at her, not knowing how much of what she said was true.
Si Lili smiled faintly, her beauty bright without equal. "Sir, I am very grateful that you cleansed my body of the poison. That… is the truth."
"I am not Chen Pingping," Fan Xian said. "I believe, even when it comes to interests, there could be milder methods. Besides, I do not want the emperor of Qi to be poisoned because of you… Of course, looking at it now, Chen Pingping's plot had no chance of success from the very beginning."
Si Lili blushed slightly. She knew this man, who was closest to her and standing in front of her, had already guessed something.
Fan Xian continued softly, "Living in the palace, you must take care. The Overwatch Council, even with all its reach, cannot control you. Whether or not the agreement between us will work all depends on us."
Si Lili replied seriously, "Please rest assured."
Gazing at this woman's beauty suddenly put Fan Xian in a slight trance. After recollecting himself, he said, "You wait for information. Stay safe. I believe that, pretty soon, someone will help you avenge your family."
Si Lili suddenly raised her head, looking at Fan Xian in slight disbelief. Fan Xian didn't care for the joy in her eyes and took out a slip of paper from his sleeve. "Contact me through this person. Once you memorize the contact information, destroy this slip of paper."
Fan Xian suddenly smiled. "I permit you to abandon our agreement, but I definitely do not accept you selling me out. This contact is one-way; it will do you no good to expose him to Northern Qi, so you better not take the risk."
Seeing this young official's strangely sweet smile made Si Lili a bit afraid for some reason. She hurriedly nodded.
"And, if…" Fan Xian was quiet for a moment before continuing suddenly, "If one day you no longer want to stay in Qi palace, let me know, and I'll take care of it."
"Thank you, Sir." Si Lili finally showed some sincerity and reluctance in her voice. She knew they would part ways after this, and said, "With this goodbye, who knows when we will see each other again? The thought of that hurts me, as if it's cutting into my innards."
After saying that, Si Lili quickly turned around and left the pavilion, leaving behind Fan Xian to frown and ponder about what meanings could be hidden behind "cutting into my innards".
Seeing the carriage depart on the ancient road, Fan Xian didn't show any expression, although he sighed deeply on the inside. He then punched one of the pavilion's pillars. The pavilion was already about to collapse due to not being maintained for so long. Fan Xian's punch made it creak even more loudly.
A shadow floated down from the roof. Who else could it be but Haitang? She landed lightly next to Fan Xian, smiling sheepishly. "I didn't eavesdrop."
"If you were," Fan Xian said, "I'm going to become a mute."
Haitang smiled. "Sir Fan, you are leaving the Great Kingdom of Qi. I don't know when I will see you again."
Fan Xian thought about his sister back home. He sighed. "It won't be too long, I think… Where's that famed teacher of yours?" He changed the subject. "Coming to Northern Qi without visiting that Great Grandmaster was truly a shame."
Haitang thought about it for a moment and decided to not hide anything from Fan Xian. "Three days before you entered Shangjing, Master received a wooden plank and left. No one, including the empress dowager and me, knows where he went."
"During my stay in Shangjing, you hid a lot of things for me." Fan Xian was looking at a single tree near the end of the ancient road. "I have to thank you for that, so… Regarding the goods heading north, I am currently talking with Chang Ninghou and Shen Zhong. If that emperor of yours needs to borrow silver from me, Shen Zhong must be taken care of. Despite him looking ordinary, he is anything but."
After a while, Haitang said, "This is secret between you and I."
Fan Xian stared into her bright eyes and said, emphasizing each word, "In this world, other than my brothers-in-law, I really haven't seen many pure idiots. How many people do you think we can fool? Duoduo, with you helping me so much both in broad daylight and undercover, don't think your senior disciple wouldn't notice."
Haitang frowned. "What are you trying to say?"
Fan Xian smiled, "I'm saying, since you and the emperor want to free yourselves from the empress dowager's shadow, you must not only rely on struggles within the palace, nor must you rely on me, an outsider, to provide much money. After all, Northern Qi is a grand nation. Taking complete control of it would take several years of effort."
Haitang grinned. "I believe you are mistaken about something."
"Oh?" Fan Xian laughed. "What are you worried about?"
Haitang seemed to be talking about a different matter. "I'm a good student. I respect my teachers."
Fan Xian suddenly said, "Zhuang Mohan died."
Zhuang Mohan had students all over the world, and was revered by all. Other than the one incident last year, he was flawless. Even Haitang respected this old man very much. Since she had been waiting in the countryside, she wasn't there to learn of the old man's passing. Hearing it now, she couldn't hold back her shock and sadness. She was speechless.
For the moment, loneliness and sadness filled the pavilion.
A long while later, Fan Xian broke the silence. "Xiao En died. Zhuang Mohan died. All the big-names will eventually die. A good and respectful student you may be, but I believe, you should also have prepared for this day."
Haitang stared into his eyes. "Sir, you seem to be hinting at something."
Fan Xian smiled. "The strong desire of young people to take on a leading role; I understand it very well."
Haitang laughed, and the gloominess of Master Zhuang's death was lifted just so slightly. "How come many grave topics sound much lighter coming out of your mouth? How come many dark topics become so bright after you say them?"
"The dark night gave me black eyes, but I use them to seek the light."[1]
Haitang tilted her head. "I remember you said that you use them to… roll your eyes at the world."
"This world?" Fan Xian said. "This world is theirs, and also ours. But in the end… It's ours."
A thick cloud floated over, covering the sun completely. But the sun was shining too brightly, and its rays still peeked out from the cloud's edges, like the golden borders embroidered by a goddess. A gust of wind blew from the plains, past the ancient road, past the pavilion.
Fan Xian looked at Haitang. "Duoduo, thank you for all your help."
Haitang finally took her hands out of her pockets. A bit unnaturally, she curtsied toward Fan Xian like an ordinary girl. "You're too polite."
Without hesitation, Fan Xian took a step forward and embraced Haitang, who, for some reason, did not avoid it. The hug was over as soon as it began. With an earnest smile, Fan Xian said, "To be honest, if you and I can really become friends, I don't think that would be such a bad thing at all."
Haitang gently brushed her hair. There were no signs of awkwardness on her face. She smiled. "Likewise."
Standing under the tattered pavilion, beside the ancient road, Haitang watched Fan Xian disappear into the distance. She leaned her head to the side, thinking back on the recent days in Shangjing, and smiled. She thought this young gentleman from the south was indeed interesting. His eyes were sharper than others. After he return to Qing, some very subtle changes would occur.
She sighed, clearing away the sadness from Zhuang Mohan's death. Then she realized she had forgotten one thing—the Haitang Poem Club from Story of the Stone; was it related to her or not? Out of habit, she reached up to tighten the handkerchief on her head, only to grab thin air. She immediately knew what happened and felt her cheeks turn hot. Though she kept her face from showing it, that hug earlier still made her nervous—she didn't even notice that thief had taken her handkerchief.
Fan Xian was crossing through the sorghum field, a smile of pure happiness on his face. This trip to Northern Qi finally had a rather wholesome conclusion, and he, since having been reborn, was able to meet some interesting people, like that block of ice named Yan Bingyun, and the flower named Haitang, who appeared bland and unrefined. Other than some conflicts of interest and differences in beliefs, he enjoyed talking with Haitang very much.
The emperor needs to have a son, Ku He needs to eat meat, the cripple Chen needs to go to the bathroom, and Fan Xian needs friends.
He put the handkerchief in his chest pocket and parted the sorghum stalks in front of him. Looking at the smoke rising from the courier station in the distance, he began gently singing, "Toss it, toss it, toss the handkerchief…"
[1] Fan Xian quotes Chinese modernist poet Gu Cheng's poem "A Generation", considered an accurate representation of the younger generation during the Chinese Cultural Revolution seeking knowledge and future.
Chapter 254: Autumn Harvest
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
As autumn began, above the northernmost plains of Qing Kingdom's capital, the clouds boiled and swelled. The field workers didn't raise their heads, for they had no interest in God's play with the sky, its clouds and the sun - they merely wanted to harvest their crops before the rainclouds would arrive.
The volume of rain in this particular year had been high. The people spoke of the big river in the south breaching its banks and overflowing. For those that lived within the northern territories, however, this did not greatly concern them. Instead, it was the worrying prospect of the heavy rainfall delaying their annual harvests.
Occasionally, large, fearless muskrats came to scour the fields for grain, weaving between the farmers' legs as they went. Uncaring for their presence, though, the farmers would continue to go about their harvesting duties, scythes in hand.
There were two well-trodden roads that bordered these far-flung fields. The sound made by a symphony of blades slicing in unison was known to bring about great joy to those who passed by and listened.
With their faces aimed at the soil and their leaf-cut backs aimed up toward the dreary skies, the farmers did not realize the passing of a grand congregation of travelers - a collective which went along the roads as far as the eye could see.
It was an envoy venturing home from the Northern Qi Kingdom, fulfilling their promise of leaving in the spring and returning in the autumn. And here they were, arriving home mid-September. The band was larger coming home than what it was when it first left. This growth had come not only from the swathe of gifts given by Northern Qi, but also the guards of honor and other diplomatic personnel that were now accompanying them.
It was evident by the large host that the marriage of the princess of Northern Qi was something of profound importance; and rightly so, for it was the first marriage between royalty of these two kingdoms. For this land, that had been peaceful for twenty years, what could these changes bring?
Although the princess' luxurious stagecoach was the sort to draw awe, there was another in the company's midst that was bound to elicit attention - but for not the same reasons. In contrast to Northern Qi's painted carriages and Qing's black carriages, this particular vehicle was rather grubby in its appearance. The carriage itself was being pulled by fare and healthy horses, but their pace was almost staggered as they plodded along with their heads lowered, slowly swinging from left to right.
Those within the envoy understood that the horses' fatigue stemmed from the carriage's obscene weight. The carriage contained Zhuang Mohan`s wealth of scriptures, that were given to the envoy`s head diplomat, Fan Xian, before Zhuang Mohan's death. In appearance, the books looked to be of little importance; so it was surprising how such tatty manuscripts outweighed the princess` abundance of jewelry. But its presence there was not an ill one, for members of the envoy would always look upon the carriage with great admiration. Master Fan, the scholar that he was, was appreciated by the members of the envoy for his honorable nature and profound knowledge. Ever since they departed Cangzhou City, however, Master Fan had taken to locking himself inside his carriage to read and study the manuscripts, even foregoing meals and rest.
"I cannot go on like this."
Fan Xian sighed. Returning a collection of poems to the chest behind him, the curtains of the carriage appeared to draw themselves shut by a sudden gust of wind, swiftly engulfing his chamber in complete darkness. Those outside were unable to see the expressions on his face, but hearing the sounds from inside the carriage, it was evident that Master Fan was not willing to continue his charade as a diligent scholar.
The road they were upon, leading south, was utterly unspoiled; it was both smooth and peaceful. The princess of Northern Qi was at last getting over the grief brought on by Zhuang Mohan's passing, becoming once more the reserved and self-respecting noblewoman she was expected to be, and decided not to give him any trouble. Within the garrison at the courier station, Fan Xian would often speak with the beautiful princess and engage her in fairly ordinary conversations in order to relieve himself of his loneliness. Although possible courtiers wouldn't dare to get so close, being with a woman was a far fonder experience than being with the cold, stone-like swordsmen or Yan Bingyun.
But following their departure from Cangzhou, these meetings never occurred again. This wasn't because of their return to Qing, where Fan Xian couldn't dare to speak with the Great Prince's soon-to-be wife, but it was because the envoy suddenly received one additional member. This person's identity was unique. Her origins were shrouded in an unsettling aura of mystery and uncertainty and possessed an unknown connection to someone else within the envoy. That person had been staying in the princess' stagecoach the entire time. It was also due in part to the fact that Fan Xian did not desire to see this enigmatic person weep profusely, and thusly decided to hide himself within his own carriage and leave the delicate situation for Mister Yan Bingyun.
On the road, the Overwatch Council would sometimes receive intelligence, but investigations into the murders occurring in the south were yet to yield any details of worth. That aside, there was nothing notably new to report upon. The most dismaying of all possible news, however, came from the north.
Shen Zhong was reported dead. On a rainy night, under the protection of 13 of the Brocade Guard, Shen Zhong was killed by General Shang Shanhu; taken out with an unexpected joust.
Provost of the Discipline Commission, Shen Zhong was the most renowned agent after Xiao En in Northern Qi. It was difficult to believe this is how he met his end. Although it may seem too outlandish to believe, it was the truth. Fan Xian rubbed his temple and gave a wry smile as he thought about Wang Qinian's report, detailing the events that had transpired. Pondering the details, he almost felt a little scared.
According to the reports, on that rainy night, Shang Shanhu was clad in dark armor, pike in hand, above a lengthy street. As Shen Zhong's horse galloped by, a sudden pike-thrust pierced his head. Then, in one mighty swing, Shang Shanhu sliced the remainder of Shen Zhong's guard. It was at this moment, when he sheathed his weapon, that rain began to fall - concluding the night's frightening turn of events. Shang Shanhu, the high-ranking warrior that he was, made use of this doughty method to bring ruin to the conspiracies. He was now using force to challenge the entire government's authority. It was reckless – even ruthless. Shang Shanhu was never previously thought to be so barbaric. Fan Xian knew he had always underestimated the jagged minds of soldiers during the heat of battle and, pondering these events further, his head began to throb. Yet no matter how much he massaged his temples, the pain would not recede. After all, the people knew he was involved with the freeing of Xiao En; and even when Tan Wu committed suicide, his influence was not made known. Looking forward, he believed Shang Shanhu would lay the blame of Xiao En's death and the defection of the Southern people upon him.
Fan Xian only hoped that Qing and Northern Qi would maintain their peace and stability forevermore, without the need for any further wars and a possible confrontation with Shang Shanhu himself.
Doubts and suspicions continued to surround Shen Zhong's death. After all, he was both a powerful and influential figure in the Brocade Guard. And now, Shang Shanhu's violence and volatility had made him the target of the army. So great was the desire for his arrest, they were willing to kill him in the street. Unfortunately, it was never to be that simple. Following the incident, Northern Qi's response was tame. After a quiet night in the palace, they only put Shang Shanhu under house arrest at his manor and stripped him of his titles. Also, it was only just brought to light that quite shockingly, Shen Zhong had been partaking in numerous illegal deeds for many years. It was hard to believe that they were dirtying the name of a man who had just died.
Because of these revelations, Shen Zhong's relatives had their assets seized and the Brocade Guard underwent significant personnel changes. This news in particular made the kingdom's army quite happy. The young emperor maintained his quiet composition, but it was suspected that even he himself was made joyous at these disclosures. After this, Shang Shanhu's enmity towards the royal family lessened. But someone like Shang Shanhu can be compared to a tiger, in the way he is not easy to control. By keeping him locked within his manor, it was evident that the palace was still unsure of exactly how to deal with him. He couldn't be killed, for the risk of a military revolt was too high. Letting the issue slide, however, would be like releasing an untamed tiger unto the populace - who would know what were to happen then?
Fan Xian shook his head. Haitang overheard Fan Xian talking to himself from within his carriage. The way Shen Zhong was killed was so abrupt and violent, and picturing it in his mind, the fear he possessed gave way to a manner of appreciation. It was a quick death, one that brought no remorse to the murderer. When Shang Shanhu raised his black pike, mounted his steed and prepared to harvest Shen Zhong's life, he must have been completely devoid of a conscience. He even thought the sky agreed with Shang Shanhu's actions, releasing a torrent of rain right after the deed was done.
Opening the curtains of his carriage once again, Fan Xian leapt out without calling for the driver to stop. Standing on the road, Fan Xian raised his arms as a visor against the wind. Looking at the farmers working hard in their fields of grain, ease returned once more to Fan Xian's mind. He was now able to put all of the events that had transpired in the north behind him. With a renewed resolve, he determined that all that had happened would no longer affect him and that dwelling upon it would yield no good.
Looking up, Fan Xian watched the clouds brighten and dim as they traversed the sky. He squinted and, knowing that he was to arrive at the Longquan Station by the end of the day, breathed a sigh of relief. The princess was to marry somewhere so far from home, but the journey's pace seemed to be shorter than what they had initially estimated. Fan Xian was not completely free from worry, but none in the envoy would stop to ask him of his troubles and as such, they traveled with greater speed. Seeing that it would not be long before he reached the capital, he finally stopped thinking about his family. It was possible that he might even see Wan'er the next day and he wondered if her body was recovering. Regarding her sister, if Wu Zhu was in the capital, she would undoubtedly be fine.
Hopping onto the carriage behind him, he saw Yan Bingyun pretending to be asleep, and so Fan Xian scowled. "This is all your fault," Fan Xian said. "You caused all these troubles and you need to sort it out. We are headed into the capital now, are you simply going to allow her to follow the princess? If Northern Qi discovers that we are providing asylum for one of their greatest criminals, how are you going to explain this to the council?"
Yan Bingyun opened his eyes, but didn't even bother to look at Fan Xian. Looking out at the golden fields of grain outside the carriage, he wrestled with whether or not he should tell his boss. Quietly, Yan Bingyung said, "It's just a step for the Northern Qi emperor to take over. I don't think the kingdom will care very much about her life."
Fan Xian looked at him and spoke in a softer tone, "If you do not care whether this woman is dead or alive, allow me to deal with it."
Yan Bingyun slowly turned around to look at Fan Xian and replied, "Killing her is not an ideal solution."
Fan Xian shook his head and stated, "If you cannot let it go, you cannot let it go. I thought you were special. I cannot believe you are deceiving yourself in this way."
Yan Bingyung did not answer. He silently returned his gaze back to the hard-working fieldworkers, harvesting their majestic crops.
Inside the luxurious carriage that was spear-heading the envoy, the princess of Northern Qi sighed. She looked at her best friend, who was sat at the window and did not say anything. Miss Chen had made it out alive from Shangjing city. At that moment, she saw her lying against the window's wooden lattice, looking out upon the same views Yan Bingyun was also engaged in, without any idea whether or not she was thinking about her heartless lover, the tragedy of her family's demise, or even the sadness involved with leaving one's home country.