The envoy moved into the guesthouse. To prevent public disturbances, the newly appointed Jiannan West Sichuan Military Commissioner dispatched a thousand troops to surround the guesthouse. That evening, he sent someone to inquire how long the envoy planned to stay.
Both sides understood the situation clearly. The longer the Nanzhao envoy stayed, the more likely the vengeful Yizhou citizens might do something drastic.
Sheng Fengze was equally direct – the envoy would rest for only one day before departing for Chang’an. The Military Commissioner breathed a slight sigh of relief.
They had entered Yizhou City near dusk. By the time they settled in, night had fallen.
A small sedan chair quietly left through the guesthouse’s side gate.
Unlike the previous night’s raid on the guesthouse, the perimeter was now lined with soldiers – ostensibly for protection, but actually to “confine” the Nanzhao envoy to prevent trouble.
After tonight, at dawn, the Nanzhao delegation would depart. The Military Commissioner had ordered that nothing go wrong. The soldiers stood straight as spears, none daring to slack off.
Despite the heavy guard, angry citizens had still littered the guesthouse entrance with rotten vegetables, poured several buckets of slop, and “accidentally” dropped countless chamber pots, shattering them. The stench nearly brought the soldiers to tears.
More and more people gathered before the guesthouse, dropping directly to their knees at the entrance, beating the ground and wailing. Long cries rose and fell in waves. Students from various Yizhou academies set up writing desks near the main gate, competing to compose satirical poems mocking Nanzhao. Starting from the Emperor’s decree to treat them as honored guests, they dug back to how Nanzhao had depended on the Great Tang to establish their state a hundred years ago. Their verbal and written attacks drew cheers that reached the heavens. Adding to the spectacle, even the owner of Sanhua Tower had people bring several tables of food and two loads of wine to join the festivities.
The Prefecture Chief came personally with other officials to persuade the crowd, but no one left. The commanding officers’ scalps tingled with fear that these scholars might raise a cry after drinking and trigger a popular uprising.
When the Military Commissioner heard this, he finally said after a long pause: “Tonight’s curfew will be delayed by one hour.” Forcibly suppressing and dispersing the citizens would only redirect their anger toward Yizhou’s officials.
“Master, the envoys are anxious and afraid, worried that the Tang Emperor won’t accept Nanzhao’s apology,” Chihu quietly reported the delegation’s状态 to Sheng Fengze.
“Worried the Tang Emperor will execute the envoys under his sword?” Sheng Fengze sneered, “If he were to kill anyone, it would be me, the commander of the three armies – it wouldn’t be their turn. Still, let them remain anxious. When apologizing, one should look the part. The more frightened they appear, the more pleased the Tang Emperor will be.”
“This…”
Isn’t this too humiliating? Chihu felt deeply shamed.
Sheng Fengze said softly: “Think of the Dadu River as our boundary. Think of the benefits brought by the ten thousand captured craftsmen. If His Majesty wishes to slap my left cheek, I will offer my right as well.”
“Master!” Chihu gripped his sword hilt tightly, moved by Sheng Fengze’s willingness to sacrifice for Nanzhao, yet grumbling indignantly, “Master originally didn’t need to come to Great Tang to suffer such humiliation…”
“Pass down the order – eat at dawn watch, depart at morning watch,” Sheng Fengze’s gaze softened, but he wouldn’t say more to Chihu, turning instead to return to his quarters.
The candlelight on the bronze lamp wavered in the wind when the door opened. Sheng Fengze’s body stiffened slightly, but he closed the door as if nothing was wrong. When he turned around, the candlelight illuminated a sword pointed at his throat.
“Each time I see you, you’re different from before,” Sheng Fengze stared at Yang Jingyuan, speaking calmly.
Yang Jingyuan smiled: “I’m not as foolish as last time, rushing into the guesthouse wearing mourning clothes, making myself a living target. This time, I guarantee I can kill you without anyone discovering it.”
His smile brightened the dim room. Sheng Fengze looked at Yang Jingyuan’s smiling face, momentarily dazed. He lowered his eyes and said softly: “If this king leaves Yizhou City safely tomorrow, I will tell you Ji Yingying’s whereabouts. Why not return to the Yang family to wait? I still must present credentials to the Tang Emperor – I cannot die.”
Yang Jingyuan’s heart trembled, but he saw Sheng Fengze had already moved past the sword’s tip and sat on the couch, pouring himself a cup of wine.
“Remember your words.” Otherwise, he would ensure Sheng Fengze never reached Chang’an. Yang Jingyuan turned and leaped out the window.
The wine was premium Jiannanchun. Its sharp taste made Sheng Fengze cough continuously, his dark eyes glazing with faint moisture. But he only wanted to drink himself into unconsciousness, to stay drunk until he awoke having left Yizhou City.
Seeing Yang Jingyuan emerge, Xiangyou waiting in the alley breathed a sigh of relief. He tentatively asked: “Third Young Master, shall we head home?”
Young Master Yang had persuaded Third Young Master into the carriage. Though they had hoped to successfully bring him back, the Nanzhao envoy had disrupted their plans. Yang Jingyuan had Yang Chengyu return to the manor first, taking Xiangyou to drive the carriage to an alley not far from the guesthouse, and waiting in the carriage until dark.
Yang Chengyu had no choice but to return first to report. Xiangyou didn’t know what Yang Jingyuan was thinking, nor whether he would return to the Yang family, and waited pitifully, afraid Yang Jingyuan would abandon him again.
“Let’s go.”
Those two words were like heavenly music. Xiangyou asked again uncertainly: “To Yang Family Lane?”
Yang Jingyuan thought of Sheng Fengze’s words and said irritably: “The city gates are closed – where else would I stay if not home?”
Xiangyou responded loudly and drove the carriage away.
At least Sheng Fengze hadn’t said she was dead again. Hopefully, after the envoy left Yizhou City tomorrow, Sheng Fengze would keep his promise and send her back.
Large red lanterns hung at the Yang family gate. The middle gate stood wide open.
From the moment Yang Jingyuan stepped down from the carriage and entered the manor, every servant and maid he met bowed with smiling faces. Master Yang’s trusted Third Steward personally came to welcome him at the main gate.
“All the young masters and young ladies in the manor are well. The Madame and Masters have been hoping for your return home. Mingyue Residence has been kept clean, with the Madame often going to sit there.” The Third Steward carefully watched Yang Jingyuan’s expression while asking his preference, “Would Third Young Master like to return to Mingyue Residence first, or go to White Egret Hall?”
The path split beneath his feet. The Third Steward’s palm grew sweaty gripping the lantern handle.
Two rows of tall mulberry trees lined the path to White Egret Hall. Light spilling from stone lanterns illuminated the bluestone path brightly. Yang Jingyuan vaguely remembered how in his childhood, the First Madame had held his hand returning from the lakeside of Lefeng Court where his birth mother lived. The lamplight had stretched her shadow long, and he had mischievously hidden behind the lamp posts. The First Madame had pretended not to see him, deliberately playing hide-and-seek.
He hesitated, then stepped onto the bluestone path leading to White Egret Hall.
The Third Steward started, then excitedly hurried after him with trembling steps, bowing to light the path before his feet.
Two rows of maidservants stood outside White Egret Hall, bowing respectfully: “Third Young Master has returned.”
Just like before. Yang Jingyuan nodded uncomfortably and stepped into the great hall.
Past the twelve-panel screen decorated with ten varieties of embroidered peonies, the spacious main hall blazed with light. Madame Yang née Shi sat in the central seat wearing a date-red brocade wide-sleeved robe embroidered with crabapple patterns. The Yang family’s First Master Yang Jingshan and Second Master Yang Jingyan were present with their wives and children – a full family gathering.
“San Lang has returned!” Yang Jingshan rose excitedly.
“Elder Brother.” Yang Jingyuan grasped his arm, saw him standing steadily, and smiled.
“Mother has thought of you day and night, hoping for your return. Go pay your respects to Mother.” Yang Jingshan patted his hand and stepped back.
Though knowing he had chosen to come to White Egret Hall first, Madame Yang’s eyes filled with tears. She turned her face aside, speaking flatly: “It’s good that you’ve come home. Tell the kitchen to serve the meal.”
“I come home and there’s not even a smile? Perhaps I should just leave.”
Hearing these words, Madame Yang quickly looked up: “Third Son…”
Yang Jingyuan had already knelt before her, wearing a lazy smile, teasing her as he had in childhood. Madame Yang froze, then raised her hand to strike him, crying out: “You ungrateful child, you must hate me! Act as if I never raised you!”
Yang Jingyuan cried out in pain, calling to his elder brothers and sisters-in-law for help, but didn’t dodge or evade.
After a few slaps, Madame Yang covered her face with a handkerchief and wept: “Third Son, I thought you would never again acknowledge me as your mother! I was wrong – after you left, my heart shattered with regret!”
Yang Jingyuan gently drew her into his embrace. Though Lady Liu had given birth to him, it was Madame Shi who had raised him. She had valued her sons and the family fortune, yet had also doted on him for eighteen years. In just one year, not a single black hair remained among her gray. He had resented her, yet also craved the warmth she had given him.
“Mother, I told you San Lang would come to White Egret Hall first to kowtow and pay respects to you. Now do you believe me?”
The clear, familiar voice made Yang Jingyuan’s head buzz. He raised his head mechanically, all the blood rushing to his face, his mind blank.
Ji Yingying emerged from behind the screen wearing a pink wide-sleeved shirt and white high-waisted long skirt.
Her hair was done in the spiral bun he had seen countless times, revealing her slender, graceful neck and smooth forehead. Her face gleamed with pearl-like radiance, bright and enchanting.
“San Lang.” Ji Yingying stood before his eyes, calling him again with a smile.
How many times had he heard her call him in his dreams? Yang Jingyuan blinked hard. He foolishly reached out to touch her cheek, then quickly withdrew his hand.
Someone in the hall couldn’t hold back their laughter, triggering a wave of teasing: “Oh my, is this our most clever San Lang?”
“Look how startled San Lang is! Sister-in-law, you’d better watch out for him settling accounts with you!”
“Pay up, pay up, I won the bet with Third Aunt! Third Uncle came to White Egret Hall first!”
Madame Yang burst out laughing, wiped her tears, and pushed Yang Jingyuan: “Silly boy!”
Yang Jingyuan stumbled forward two steps from the push, colliding with Ji Yingying. He instinctively caught her waist, and when she pushed him away with a red face, she said softly: “Let’s eat first. The whole family has been waiting for you.”
Yang Jingshan laughed heartily, inviting everyone to take their seats.
Seeing Yang Jingyuan staring at her unblinkingly, Ji Yingying quickly pinched the back of his hand hard before turning to help Madame Yang to her seat.
“Ouch!” Yang Jingyuan sucked in a breath, finally feeling a sense of reality.
The lights sparkled brilliantly as laughter and chatter drifted through the night. Yang Jingyuan sat with his brothers and nephews, staring fixedly at Ji Yingying as she attended to Madame Yang.
“San Lang, our family is reunited – let’s drink together!”
Yang Jingyuan stayed in his elder brother’s hand, firmly shaking his head: “I won’t drink.”
“No, you must drink this cup!” Yang Jingshan and Yang Jingyan teased him, deliberately blocking his line of sight.
Finally, Yang Jingyuan snatched both their cups, drained them in one gulp, jumped up from his seat, walked straight over, and hurriedly said: “Mother, I’ll come to pay my respects again tomorrow.”
He pulled Ji Yingying away quickly.
The First and Second Young Madames laughed: “Mother, let Sister-in-law go back. If you don’t let him get clear answers, San Lang will suffocate to death.”
Watching their departing figures, tears welled in Madame Yang’s eyes as she murmured: “He called me Mother…”
The autumn wind was quite cool but didn’t dispel the blush on Ji Yingying’s face. She kept her head down, hurrying after Yang Jingyuan as they left White Egret Hall. Seeing him stop, Ji Yingying remembered how when entering the city, after the citizens had rushed the carriage, Sheng Fengze had returned to the sedan saying he thought he’d seen Yang Jingyuan. Afraid he would misunderstand, Ji Yingying stammered an explanation: “I faked my death in Nanzhao. The White King could only use the pretext of going to Chang’an to submit an apology, avoiding Du Yan’s attention, to secretly send me back…”
Her body crashed into his embrace as Yang Jingyuan held her tight: “Sheng Fengze said after he left Yizhou, he would tell me your whereabouts. I was so afraid he was deceiving me again… If I couldn’t find you, what use would killing him be?”
His voice was already choked with emotion.
He would no longer misunderstand her, nor be jealous of Sheng Fengze. He only wanted her safely by his side.
“San Lang. I’ve come back.” Ji Yingying closed her eyes, resting softly against his chest.
Though thousands of words filled their hearts, in the end, they could only say this much.
She had returned. They would never be separated again.