“Seventh Young Master…”

At dusk, the ugly maid Qing Yun pushed open the door and saw her young master Han Qian still sitting by the window staring at that palm-sized piece of water jade on the desk. He had been like this for half a day now, hadn’t he?

She didn’t know why the young master, just recovered from his chill, had suddenly smashed the water jade bowl used as decoration in the study yesterday morning at dawn, picked up a palm-sized fragment of water jade, and spent day and night fiddling with it on a whetstone—what kind of strange behavior was this?

Right now, Qing Yun didn’t dare shout loudly. She peeked at the desk by the window and saw that water jade fragment placed on the rice paper on the desk, but the sharp edges and corners had already been ground away by the young master Han Qian, polished day and night into a round jade disc.

Han Qian turned his head to glance at Qing Yun. He really had no mood to berate the ugly maid Qing Yun for running in to disturb him at this moment. He waved his hand, telling her to leave and not remain in the study being an eyesore.

Following the experience of the dream figure Zhai Xinping, yesterday Han Qian had smashed his father’s most beloved water jade bowl in the study—in dream terminology it should be called a crystal bowl. He picked up that palm-sized fragment from the bottom of the bowl and spent a day and night grinding it into a convex lens.

The bottom of the water jade bowl was originally thick in the middle and thin at the edges, already somewhat resembling a convex lens. Combined with the water jade’s transparent clarity like water, Han Qian, with extreme patience, spent more than a day and night grinding away the sharp edges and corners of the broken water jade bowl bottom, polishing the previously rough curved surface more finely.

This afternoon, he successfully gathered a beam of sunlight into a spot of light the size of an ant, shining it onto the rice paper.

Han Qian watched with his own eyes as the rice paper where the light spot fell gradually turned yellow and scorched, finally sprouting a small tuft of flame that burned through the rice paper as thick as kudzu hemp!

Han Qian didn’t know if anyone in the current world knew that water jade mirrors could be used to start fires, but before the dream two nights ago, he absolutely had no knowledge of this matter.

The dream from two nights ago was not absurd and false!

Since the afternoon, Han Qian had sat like a withered tree at the desk without speaking or moving, repeatedly recalling that seemingly absurd and false dream from two nights ago, wanting to find more historical fragments about Chu state from it, particularly after the twelfth year of Tianyou.

However, although the dream figure Zhai Xinping enjoyed reading history books, from the late period of the previous dynasty when regional military governors divided territories, the Central Plains had been too chaotic. The dream figure Zhai Xinping’s understanding of that period of history was also quite vague and fragmentary.

Sitting from afternoon until dusk fell all around, Han Qian only knew that later historical records evaluated Emperor Tianyou’s governance in his later years as incompetent, and that he fell gravely ill and died in the seventeenth year of Tianyou, which was the year nine hundred seventeen, after which the debauched and cruel Crown Prince Yang Yuanwo succeeded to the throne.

Yang Yuanwo was already addicted to elixirs while serving as Crown Prince. Less than a year after succeeding to the throne, he died from elixir poisoning. Afterward, Grand Empress Dowager Xu and the ministers enthroned the eleven-year-old Crown Prince’s son Yang Ye, with Empress Dowager Xu ruling from behind a screen, holding power over Chu state.

To eliminate dissidents, Empress Dowager Xu first poisoned Emperor Wu’s third son, Prince Linjiang Yang Yuanpu, who had just come of age at the time. Subsequently, she sent envoys to seize the military power of Emperor Wu’s second son, Prince Xin Yang Yuanyan.

Prince Xin Yang Yuanyan refused to surrender without a fight. He led troops across the river and besieged Jinling for a hundred days, forcing more than a million soldiers and civilians trapped in the city to starve to death. Jinling, the prosperous place of Jiangnan, nearly became a dead city.

Prince Xin failed to conquer Jinling after a long siege and was forced to lift the siege and leave. He then plundered the various prefectures of Jianghuai. The warfare thoroughly devastated the prosperous land of Jiangnan that had finally enjoyed two or three decades of rest and recuperation, leaving nine out of ten households empty.

Meanwhile, the Liang and Jin states that dominated the Central Plains also experienced frequent warfare and mutual attacks. The warfare continued for decades, after which they were invaded by the Mengwu people, a foreign tribe rising from the northern grasslands…

Aside from the few words “went to ancestral land Xuanzhou to raise troops, captured en route by family guards and delivered to authorities, torn apart in the marketplace,” Han Qian did not find more records about himself between the twelfth and seventeenth years of Tianyou from these memory fragments.

In later historical records, he was just an insignificant minor character. It was only because of his father Han Daoxun that such a casual note was left.

Han Qian had lived carelessly and heartlessly for eighteen years. He didn’t care about others’ lives or deaths, much less about the chaos of family and state or the shattering of rivers and mountains after his death. But sitting by the window, repeatedly reviewing the dream figure Zhai Xinping’s memories of this period of history, he could clearly feel the bone-deep, heart-piercing pain contained within these fragments of memory.

This should be the dream figure Zhai Xinping’s genuine feelings when reading history.

Perhaps immersed in the dream’s feelings too realistically, as if he had truly lived a lifetime in the dream world, unconsciously, Han Qian’s state of mind was inevitably infected by this heart-piercing pain. Sitting dazed by the window, for a moment he couldn’t help but feel emotional…

Damn! Damn! Damn!

Before the seventeenth year of Tianyou, he hadn’t yet figured out why he would die so miserably, yet he was already feeling sorrowful for the chaotic world—how truly broad-minded he was!

Han Qian fiercely rubbed his face with his hands, dispelling the dejected, sorrowful emotions. He thought to himself, if he returned to Xuanzhou at this time and never left, would that change the fate of “fleeing to Xuanzhou, captured en route by family guards and delivered to authorities to receive punishment”?

Thinking of this, Han Qian almost jumped up to pack his bags and run.

However, as he supported himself on the desk with both hands, before his body could stand up, a thought flashed through his mind. He realized that even if Fan Xicheng and these family guards didn’t stop him, that little whore Yao Xishui and her lover had failed to poison him two nights ago and he had even exposed their identities—how could they possibly let him go just like that?

Han Qian sat there with ice-cold hands and feet, like a trapped beast in a cage, seeing butcher’s knives all around him ready to pierce into his body and devour his flesh and blood.

That little whore Yao Xishui was clearly the courtesan of the Evening Red Pavilion. Countless men dreamed of stripping her naked and throwing her on a silk couch to tenderly ravage her. What exactly had he done to offend them that they would go through such elaborate schemes to poison him?

No matter how carefree Han Qian’s heart was, he knew this matter wasn’t that simple. He couldn’t escape danger just by fleeing back to Xuanzhou!

Han Qian thought hard without a solution. He couldn’t help but think dejectedly, perhaps he should just accept it. As long as his father Han Daoxun didn’t foolishly submit some damn memorial to admonish Emperor Tianyou at this time, as long as his father Han Daoxun wasn’t beaten to death by Emperor Tianyou before Wenying Hall, he still might be able to live happily for two or three years. Even if the final outcome couldn’t be changed, at worst he could prepare a cup of poisoned wine for himself, drink it down first and die, rather than having to endure that punishment of dismemberment.

Han Qian’s scoundrel nature of muddling through came over him. The severe poison had just been neutralized, and he had endured sitting for another day and night. He was indeed exhausted to the extreme. He ran to the inner room, pulled open the thin quilt, lay down and fell into a deep sleep.

Fan Xicheng, Zhao Kuo and these Han family guards smiled more ferociously than executioners, grinning maliciously as they tied and bound him with ropes stained black with blood…

The hoofbeats of horses galloping on both sides of the main street sounded like death knells, making his soul tremble…

The gradually tightening ropes, his body like a bowstring being pulled tighter and tighter, at a certain instant suddenly snapping apart, intestines, excrement, and urine bursting and splattering in all directions…

All around the long street were countless excited eyes, not avoiding the splattering fresh blood, excrement, and urine at all…

Han Qian suddenly woke with a start. Outside the window it was already faintly growing light. Thinking of that terrifying scene in the dream, his heart throbbed slightly. He stared at the Black Cloud Bow hanging on the east wall, lost in thought.

The Black Cloud Bow couldn’t be called particularly exquisite. Cloud patterns ancient and simple were carved on the bow body, giving it an indescribable rugged beauty. Where the bow was gripped, the inscription “Black Cloud” was carved in two characters.

This Black Cloud Bow was obtained by his father Han Daoxun when suppressing bandits while serving as Staff Officer at the Defense Commissioner’s office in Chuzhou, then brought back by him to Xuanzhou for archery practice.

Han Qian still remembered when he first obtained this Black Cloud Bow, he was not yet twelve years old. At that time, he could already fully draw a two-stone strength bow, but afterward he neglected it. Six or seven years had passed. Although his body had grown taller by a head compared to then, even using all his strength like nursing, he could only draw the Black Cloud Bow halfway.

Han Qian couldn’t help thinking, if he hadn’t neglected these past few years in Xuanzhou and could have persisted in daily diligent practice of riding, archery, and martial arts, at this time at the very least, carrying the Black Cloud Bow and fleeing far away, he wouldn’t fear that little whore Yao Xishui pursuing to kill him!

Why had he neglected these past few years in Xuanzhou?

Facing the terrible fate about to descend, the heartless and careless Han Qian reflected on his own absurdity these past years for the first time!

At this moment, Han Qian still remembered the circumstances of living with his father Han Daoxun in Chuzhou before age twelve. At that time, his father was just an ordinary prefectural Staff Officer under the Defense Commissioner of Chuzhou, the Second Imperial Prince Yang Yuanyan who held the title of Prince Xin, with only the old family retainer Han Laoshan and family guard Fan Xicheng attending him.

However, his mother died from plague, and Chuzhou was often invaded by Liang soldiers. His father Han Daoxun had no choice but to send him back to their ancestral home in Xuanzhou, entrusting him to the care of his second uncle Han Daochang.

When he first arrived in Xuanzhou, his second uncle Han Daochang gave him the servant Jing Niang from his own household to take care of his daily needs.

Jing Niang was voluptuous and beautiful. Han Qian still remembered how dazzlingly radiant she looked when he first saw her. He almost didn’t have the courage to raise his head to look at Jing Niang’s beautiful eyes with their strange brilliance, so that night he tossed and turned unable to sleep, his mind full of thoughts of those beautiful eyes.

At dawn, that delicate body like warm soft jade embraced him from behind.

Even after six years had passed, he still remembered that moment when his heart was so nervous it almost stopped beating, his hands and feet so frightened he didn’t dare move at all. It was his first time, and he passively tasted that ultimate pleasure…

From then on, Han Qian became addicted to that voluptuous and maddening flesh, unable to extricate himself.

Three years later, Han Qian inadvertently saw Jing Niang, her clothing disheveled but her face full of seductive charm, coming out of his cousin Han Jun’s room.

Even though three years had already passed since the incident, he still remembered the pain of his heart and lungs tearing at that time. He seized a blade wanting to cut down his cousin Han Jun, but was kicked to the ground by Han Jun instead.

Afterward, Jing Niang went to serve in his cousin Han Jun’s room.

Although Han Qian’s room was replaced with two maids as beautiful as flowers, never again was there a woman who made Han Qian feel completely infatuated and immersed.

After that, led by the family servant Zhao Zhi, Han Qian began frequenting the large and small brothels and courtesan houses in Xuanzhou city, until early this year when his father Han Daoxun was transferred to serve in the court and also brought him to Jinling to reunite.

Han Qian was suddenly startled at this moment. Only now did he discover that in the six years since returning to Xuanzhou, he had not spent a single day properly rising early to practice riding, archery, and martial arts. Even though each day before noon, according to clan rules, he needed to go to the clan school to listen to the clan’s teaching master transmit lessons, he seemed to have not gone a single day without drowsing off in sleep…