Duan Chengzhang was stunned by Duan Xu’s words. One stood under the eaves, the other knelt in the snow, separated by the vast swirling snowflakes, as if divided by an unfathomably deep, uncrossable chasm.
They looked very much alike, with similarly stubborn and unyielding temperaments. The two at opposite ends of the chasm were inexplicably bound tightly together by the rope of blood ties.
Anger and grief arose in Duan Chengzhang’s heart, and he could only say: “Kneel there! You are not allowed to rise without my permission!”
Snow fell on Duan Xu’s eyelashes. He blinked and smiled gently.
The sunlight gradually dimmed, the wind grew increasingly desolate, and snowflakes drifted between heaven and earth, falling on Duan Xu’s hair, shoulders, and sleeves. His body was gradually covered with a thin layer of snow, his face growing increasingly pale, his gaze falling distantly on the horizon.
Duan Chengzhang sat inside, watching Duan Xu with an ashen face, seemingly waiting for him to take the initiative to say something—apologize, beg for forgiveness, or plead.
But Duan Xu didn’t. He didn’t even look at Duan Chengzhang; his gaze fell on a plum tree in the courtyard. The plum tree had bloomed early, with a few splashes of red blossoming on its branches, flowers containing snow, cold and moving.
Dusk approached, and snow danced wildly, half plum blossoms, half willow catkins.
“He Simu…”
He murmured, his eyes gradually lowering, his body tilting to one side.
Amid the cries of alarm from those in the courtyard, he fell onto someone’s shoulder. This person’s body was cold; she brushed away the fallen snow from him, then reached out and embraced him.
He closed his eyes and said softly against her shoulder: “Simu, I’m so tired.”
He Simu held his shoulders and stood up. Duan Chengzhang reacted, both shocked and fearful, asking: “Who are you?”
He Simu raised her eyes to look at Duan Chengzhang. She contemplated for a moment, then said calmly: “I am the Ghost King.”
Her face was pale, the tendons on her neck were purple-blue, and she had appeared in the courtyard out of thin air in broad daylight, indeed not looking like a living person.
Hearing He Simu’s statement, Duan Chengzhang was even more astonished. He said: “Let go of Xu’er! He is my son!”
“He’s your son?” He Simu smiled, suddenly placing her hand on Duan Xu’s neck, saying: “Then I’ll strangle him right now. Once he becomes a ghost, he’ll no longer be your son.”
Worried she might do it, Duan Chengzhang stepped forward anxiously: “Don’t hurt him!”
He Simu’s hand moved away from Duan Xu’s neck. Then she tilted up Duan Xu’s chin, turned her face, and directly kissed his lips.
The courtyard erupted in commotion. Duan Jingyuan, who had just arrived, halted in her tracks, covering her mouth, so shocked her heart nearly stopped.
It was a deep kiss. Duan Xu, with his eyes closed, very compliantly opened his mouth to accept He Simu, their tongues intertwining, and he even slowly raised his hand to grip her arm. They exchanged a lingering kiss in the courtyard. When they parted, Duan Xu’s breathing was somewhat rapid, and he still rested with his eyes closed on He Simu’s shoulder.
He Simu turned her face, looking at the speechless Duan Chengzhang, and said calmly: “Do you understand now? I won’t hurt him. Duan Xu is in very poor health now. By making him kneel in the snow, it seems you’re the one who wants to hurt him. If you truly care for him, don’t let pride take over and put on an act.”
Duan Chengzhang was nearly choked with anger by her words. Before he could say anything, she and Duan Xu disappeared from the courtyard in broad daylight, leaving the Duan household astonished and speechless.
He Simu didn’t take him very far, directly placing him in the bedroom of Haoyu Residence, changing his clothes, and covering him with a thick blanket.
“The doctor Feng Yi found will be here soon,” He Simu bent down to embrace him, saying softly.
Duan Xu’s body and spirit were too depleted, his consciousness somewhat hazy. He laboriously raised his arm and placed it on He Simu’s back.
“When I was young, I once fell into a pit behind our family’s yard…” his voice was very soft, speaking as if in a dream. “That pit was so dark, the walls slippery, the opening high. I was terrified and cried out for help.”
He Simu patted his shoulder, listening quietly.
“Then I saw my father. He stood at the edge of the pit looking down at me. He said he wouldn’t pull me up, nor would he let anyone come down to save me. I had to learn to climb up myself. If I couldn’t climb up, I would starve to death in the pit…”
“I begged him for a long time, crying, but he left without paying attention to me. Later, I tried to climb many times, falling to the ground countless times, until I finally climbed out of that pit by myself. I thought so I don’t need to beg others for help; I can save myself… No one else would come to save me, not even my father…”
He Simu thought no wonder he had never complained about his father not rescuing him when he was kidnapped to Danzhi. Their estrangement had begun much earlier.
“When I returned at fourteen years old… almost no one remembered this incident,” Duan Xu nuzzled He Simu’s cheek, saying softly. “Once, I mentioned it to the steward, and he remembered. He told me that on that day, my father had been standing guard not far from the pit the whole time, standing under the sun for several hours, only leaving after he saw me climb out of the pit…”
He Simu’s hand patting Duan Xu’s shoulder stopped. Duan Xu sighed long and deep, holding He Simu, saying: “Perhaps he does love me; he should love me, right?”
Compared to his mother who had barely given him any attention, at least during those few hours under the scorching sun, his father had shown genuine care.
“But it’s too late. All the opportunities, they’re too late.”
Between father and son, blood ties connect, and the debt of kindness is as heavy as a mountain, yet their hearts have fissures, seeking different things.
It’s too late.
He Simu kissed his forehead, saying softly: “Get a good sleep, rest well, and don’t think about these things anymore.”
Duan Xu slowly nodded.
While Fang Jian Ya was visiting Master Songyun at Jin’an Temple outside the city, he received a letter from Duan Jingyuan delivered by her maid, saying that Duan Xu had returned but was currently unconscious.
He burned the letter over a candle flame, saying softly: “Disappearing for over a month, causing trouble for everyone.”
Now he finally didn’t have to go to the Duan mansion every few days to impersonate Duan Xu. Fang Jian Ya let out a long sigh of relief. As one matter passed, another rose to mind. The imperial edict he still kept at home stuck in his heart like a fishbone in his throat.
“Master, what should I do?” Fang Jian Ya looked toward Master Songyun and asked.
Although he hadn’t specified what the matter was, Master Songyun understood. This elder, who had remained composed for years, fingered his prayer beads and sighed: “Amitabha Buddha, when the fire burns continuously, and consciousness attacks itself, how can there not be danger? Having no guilt in your heart is what matters.”
“No guilt in heart…” Fang Jian Ya murmured, repeating.
But the human heart is complex; even of one’s own heart, how many people can see through it?
Fang Jian Ya bid farewell to Master Songyun. When he returned to his mansion from Jin’an Temple, he saw his steward running over in panic, telling him: “Master! Something terrible has happened! During the half-day you were out, thieves broke into the house!”
Fang Jian Ya was taken aback, quickly asking: “What was stolen?”
“Master, your study and bedroom were turned upside down. You usually don’t let us tidy them, so we didn’t dare…”
Fang Jian Ya’s gaze intensified. He immediately strode through the hall directly to his bedroom, closed the door, and reached for the hidden box attached to the bottom of his bed. He opened the box, took out the secret imperial edict hidden inside, opened it to confirm it was intact, and only then did his wildly beating heart settle down.
Outside the door, a servant asked if he needed the room tidied.
Fang Jian Ya said no, then put the secret edict back in the hidden box and reattached it to the bottom of the bed.
The room had been ransacked, and many of his collected valuable paintings and porcelain were missing. As Fang Jian Ya arranged everything in the room neatly, he wondered whether this theft was truly just an accidental encounter with thieves.
In the current situation, every accident has to be treated with caution.
He tidied up the bedroom and then went to the study to check for losses. After just looking around the study, his heart tightened as he realized something was wrong. He hurried back to the bedroom and looked under the bed.
The hidden box containing the imperial edict was gone.
This was a trap! Using the theft to provoke his anxiety, making him check his most important secret, thus revealing where his secret was hidden, then carrying out the real theft when he left again.
Fang Jian Ya felt a chill in his heart. He slowly straightened up, leaning on the bed frame. A servant who had followed him asked: “Master? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Fang Jian Ya said coldly.
Who had targeted him? Did that person know about the secret edict beforehand?
Should he…go find Duan Xu? However, according to Duan Jingyuan’s letter, Duan Xu was unconscious. Even if he went to find Duan Xu now, he couldn’t discuss this with him.
Realizing he didn’t have to tell Duan Xu about this, Fang Jian Ya inexplicably felt relieved, then became more anxious because of his avoidance. He sighed, rubbing his temples, and slammed his fist on the table. The teapot on the table collided with a porcelain plate, making a jarring sound, just like his currently troubled mind.
Word spread about Duan Xu’s condition worsening to unconsciousness, saying that a highly skilled doctor had been invited from far away to treat him at Haoyu Residence, and people were not usually allowed to approach. Fang Jian Ya tried to send a message to Duan Xu using the method they had agreed upon before, but there was no response. It seemed he was truly severely ill and had lost consciousness.
After four or five days, news came that General Zhao had committed suicide at the front lines out of guilt for his failures. The court and the public were shocked. However, after Zhao Chun’s suicide, the Da Liang army fought better than before, reclaiming the territory of Fengzhou.
On this day, after the court was dismissed, Lin Jun suddenly stopped Fang Jian Ya, saying the Emperor wanted to see him in secret.
Lin Jun was no longer the restrained person he had been when Fang Jian Ya brought him from the North Shore. He had been appointed as a fourth-rank Grand Master of Remonstrance and Vice Minister of Personnel. When he originally came to Nandu, he was just a minor official who couldn’t attend court, but due to his fondness for flowers and birds, he became friendly with the then Prince Jin, quietly becoming one of his confidants. After Prince Jin seized power and ascended the throne, Lin Jun rose rapidly, now became a favorite of the Emperor, and court officials couldn’t help but curry favor with him.
However, Lin Jun had long intended to distance himself from the officials of Prince Ji and Prince Su’s factions, and Fang Jian Ya had been demoted to an idle position, so the two had not had much interaction over the past year.
Fang Jian Ya glanced at Lin Jun, bowed, and said: “Thank you for guiding the way, Lord Lin.”
He was not a confidant of the Emperor, and the Emperor had previously shown intention to neglect him. Why would he suddenly summon him secretly at this moment?
Lin Jun walked alongside him toward the Emperor’s Ningle Palace, smiling and saying: “Years ago, Lord Fang brought me from the North Shore to Nandu, showing me great kindness. I have no way to repay you, I can only exert my meager efforts. Congratulations, Lord Fang, you’re about to soar in your career.”
Fang Jian Ya turned his head to look at Lin Jun, saying impassively: “What is Lord Lin saying? I don’t understand.”
Lin Jun’s expression was serene, implying something as he said: “Doesn’t Lord Fang have an imperial edict? An edict to support the righteous and punish traitors.”
Fang Jian Ya stopped in his tracks. He stared at Lin Jun, gritting his teeth as he said: “…Was it you?”
“What was me? Now it’s Lord Fang’s words that I don’t understand. Lord Fang has an imperial edict to be handed over to His Majesty through me, to fulfill the late Emperor’s wish. Isn’t that so? Surely Lord Fang wouldn’t privately keep an imperial edict without revealing it?”