The entire Li’er family were master actors, many of their performances even rated for mature audiences. When He Shao said that after Li’er killed his brothers, he had sought Li Yuan’s forgiveness—and that his method of seeking forgiveness was actually to suckle at Li Yuan’s breast—Yun Ye broke out in a cold sweat upon hearing this. He covered He Shao’s mouth, telling him not to continue. Who knew He Shao would pry open Yun Ye’s hand and say: “What are you worried about? These things are all in His Majesty’s daily records. They’ll be compiled into historical texts and passed down to future generations. Sooner or later everyone will know. Why are you covering my mouth?”
“Can these things really be spoken of so casually?” Yun Ye was completely bewildered, looking at the carefree He Shao.
“Monk Falin accused His Majesty to his face of being a barbarian descendant, even saying his ancestors falsely claimed to be Li clan descendants, which led to the so-called rise of the Guanlong Li clan. Although His Majesty was so angry his nostrils smoked, didn’t he still refrain from killing Falin? When has Great Tang started killing people over a few idle words?” He Shao was very puzzled by Yun Ye’s caution.
“That may be so, but saying His Majesty knelt to suckle the Grand Emperor’s breast is going too far.” Yun Ye didn’t believe it—he thought He Shao was drunk and talking nonsense.
“Why would I lie to you? This matter has been praised as an exemplar of filial piety. With your overly cautious nature, where do you resemble a man of Great Tang?” He Shao was truly drunk now. This blended liquor—it drank like alcohol, smelled like alcohol, but once consumed, it ceased being alcohol and became some kind of poison that gave people headaches and discomfort.
Looking at He Shao sleeping soundly on the ground, Yun Ye sighed and dragged him back to bed. He sat by the stove roasting soybeans—a habit he’d developed at some point. Whenever he wanted to think about something, his hands needed to be occupied.
Historical records showed that after this great victory, Li’er and Li Yuan would reconcile. Supposedly the father and son—one playing the pipa, the other dancing—would enjoy harmonious relations. Whether they truly felt this way in their hearts or were deliberately putting on a political show for the stability of the Great Tang realm was unknown.
The soybeans crackled and popped as Yun Ye crunched away at them. This world was actually quite interesting. What kind of scene would it be if their acting were turned into a genuine emotional storm? Yun Ye felt he could try it.
He had arranged with Cheng Chumo to go see Xie Li. Zhang Baoxiang would carry him back today. Why carry him back? It turned out Xie Li was skilled at digging holes, even more formidable than marmots. Zhang Baoxiang had dug Xie Li out of a marmot burrow. They couldn’t let his feet touch the ground—once they did, he might dig a hole and escape on his own.
Listening to the soldiers’ discussions, Yun Ye felt Xie Li was even more impressive than the legendary Earth-Burrowing Sun. Having such abilities yet still being caught by Zhang Baoxiang—this was clearly exaggerated propaganda. Cheng Chumo was extremely dissatisfied that others caught large fish with one net cast while he only netted small shrimp. Yun Ye, however, was quite happy. The credit was divided equally anyway—everyone got a share, except the leaders took a bit more. Since Zhang Baoxiang won first prize, wouldn’t he let them have a few sips of soup?
Important figures existed to entertain the masses. In later generations, hadn’t there been an emperor in the desert whose country was conquered, who hid in a civilian residence, only to be caught and have his mouth pried open to inspect his teeth? Didn’t the whole world exclaim together—so important figures were nothing more than this?
Zhang Baoxiang’s mouth nearly split to the back of his head. He hadn’t slept all night, worried Xie Li might escape. His happy life for the latter half of his years depended entirely on this man. Only when his subordinate who had gone to report to the main camp returned leading Li Ji to the temporary encampment did he breathe a sigh of relief.
His subordinates were good in every way except they liked to exaggerate matters, which made him somewhat embarrassed. But right now he absolutely wouldn’t expose the truth.
Xie Li was strung between two spear shafts, hands and feet bound tightly. The skin on his wrists and ankles had long since disappeared, the rope cutting deep into his flesh as he issued wave after wave of pitiful screams. His face was covered with tears and snot as he cried most miserably.
Not seeing the legendary death-defying hero was disappointing. The person before them was just a worthless wretch. What qualified him to conclude a treaty with Li’er at the Wei River? Weren’t grassland men supposed to be unafraid of death? How did everything change when it came to Xie Li?
Burrowing into a rat hole was actually true. Zhang Baoxiang really had dug him out of a rat hole. If Old Zhang hadn’t noticed the marmot’s abnormality, he would have been stuck in the rat hole and died of thirst, or been eaten by marmots. Did hibernating marmots also eat meat?
Xie Li didn’t even possess the courage of Princess Yicheng. His wife had self-immolated in a great fire, never uttering a single scream until death, not issuing a single lament before dying. Such a woman’s husband was this kind of coward?
“Bah!” Yun Ye spat directly in Xie Li’s face. He didn’t even dodge, directly taking the spit with his own face. Even cutting this bastard a hundred times wouldn’t relieve the hatred. If he had been death-defying, captured by mistake on the battlefield, Yun Ye would never have been so disrespectful. He would have treated him with courtesy and respected him as a hero.
With no outlet for his anger, and Li Jing forbidding everyone from hacking him to pieces, saying he must be escorted back to the capital to be paraded on Vermillion Bird Avenue once more—this way everyone would look better, and the rewards might be more generous too.
Zhang Baoxiang became annoying, endlessly going on about marmots, making Yun Ye furious.
“General Zhang, being so familiar with marmots, you must surely have great expertise in how to catch them. Now many soldiers in the army have injuries. I’ve heard that marmot oil is a sacred remedy for treating wounds. Why don’t you, General Zhang, catch several thousand to render their oil for treating the soldiers’ injuries? What do you think?”
Yun Ye had no favorable impression of this fellow who had saved Xie Li. Wouldn’t it have been better to let him stay properly in the rat hole, keeping company with marmots? Why dig him out and make people nauseous at the sight? Since you like digging holes so much, go dig some more.
Zhang Baoxiang’s official position and noble rank were far inferior to Yun Ye’s. Receiving this directive that wasn’t quite an order and wasn’t quite a request, his face turned as bitter as an eggplant as he looked at Li Ji, hoping Li Ji would plead on his behalf. It was winter now—marmots were all hibernating, hiding in their holes without showing their heads. Where was he supposed to catch several thousand?
“Marquis Yun, it’s now the depths of winter. Marmots don’t have much fat for you to render. Why not wait until next autumn when the marmots are at their plumpest? This old man will send you several large vats then, how about that?” Li Ji interceded for Zhang Baoxiang. Yun Ye could only smile and agree.
Returning to his tent discontentedly, Yun Ye threw himself on the bed and stared blankly at the tent’s ceiling. He admitted that Princess Yicheng’s death had actually affected him, so he hoped her husband would be equally fearless and die like a king. This would satisfy his own understanding of heroes. But as for this—better not to mention it.
Huan Niang removed his boots. Thinking the closed-eyed Yun Ye had fallen asleep, she covered him with a blanket and prepared to tiptoe out.
“Xie Li has been brought back. Do you want to go see him?” Yun Ye asked Huan Niang.
As soon as he asked this, Huan Niang seemed startled. Clutching Yun Ye’s leg, her body trembling, she said: “Don’t make me see that demon. Young Master, please have mercy on me. Don’t make me see that evil spirit.”
Yun Ye asked no more, only comforting her: “I won’t let you see him again. He won’t come to see you either. I’ll go break his legs right now.”
Huan Niang looked at Yun Ye through tears: “These few days with Young Master have been the most peaceful of my thirty years. I like living this way—each day only needing to attend to Young Master’s clothing and meals. The rest of the time I can embroider, make a couple of garments. Such days only appeared in my dreams before.”
“As long as you like it, you can keep living this way. No one will stop you. Stay well in the tent, do whatever you want. I’ll go out for a walk.” Yun Ye put on his shoes, draped on his cloak, took his medical box, and went out.
Coming to Sun Simiao’s tent, he said to Old Sun: “Is there a medicine that can make someone hurt desperately but won’t kill them?”
“Yes, you have it yourself. That chili pepper can achieve the effect. Be careful when applying it—remember to add just a bit to wound medicine. Grind it very fine so no one will notice anything suspicious.” Old Sun seemed unaware of what he was discussing as his hands continued cutting medicinal herbs. The white atractylodes pieces he cut were all exactly the same size.
“You know who I’m targeting?”
“Aside from Xie Li, I can’t think of anyone else who’s provoked you. This afternoon you lost your temper at Zhang Baoxiang. This old Daoist happened to pass by. Your words already contained barely concealed killing intent, yet later you suddenly calmed down. Now, I’m afraid Huan Niang’s suffering has made you unable to control yourself again. Making him suffer is fine, but don’t kill him.”
Once people grow old, they become shrewd. Sun Simiao couldn’t yet be called old—with a full head of black hair and flowing long beard, he was an old handsome man. But his thoughts were truly wicked, actually wanting to use chili peppers to treat Xie Li’s wounds. Yun Ye very much liked this creative idea.
“Here’s some ointment made from datura. Apply a little and a person won’t feel pain, but it only lasts one hour. Do you think it’s useful?” Old Sun humbly consulted Yun Ye in a tone of medical discussion.
“This junior believes that any medicine that hasn’t been experimentally tested cannot be called medicine. Today I’ll conduct a small experiment on a patient. I imagine the patient won’t have any objections. To verify the medicine’s effectiveness, I’ll increase the dosage of another inducing substance to test the actual effects of Daoist Sun’s medicine.” After speaking, he nodded very politely to Sun Simiao and went out.
The disheveled, filthy Xie Li was gnawing on a lamb leg. The distinguished Deputy Commander of the Datong Campaign, Zhang Baoxiang, was also holding a wine jug, continuously filling Xie Li’s cup. He feared Xie Li might die, so in food and drink he was quite generous.
Yun Ye entered the tent carrying his medicine box and instructed Xie Li to expose his wounded areas. He didn’t want to touch a smelly person. Zhang Baoxiang quickly helped Xie Li roll up his sleeves. When Yun Ye saw Xie Li’s skin covered entirely in filth, he wanted to vomit. Forcibly enduring it, he finished applying the medicine and hurriedly left.
“Does the Khan know who that young man just now was?” Zhang Baoxiang said to Xie Li.
“A medical officer in your army? His skill is excellent. My wounds now have no trace of pain.”
“Naturally. He is one of the two most skilled physicians in our Great Tang, and moreover, a marquis.”
“Who is he? In the future I’ll visit to express my thanks.”
“You’ll know each other. He is Marquis Lantian, Yun Ye.”