But Tie Ci fell silent. After a long while she said, “No, I don’t think so. Or rather, I agree with its progressive ideals, but believe this kind of thinking hasn’t reached the point where it should be deliberately promoted. Because under an imperial power cultural system, emphasizing and spreading such thoughts is inherently meaningless. Perhaps in my master’s view, people are indeed born equal. But this is Great Qian, and Great Qian has its own inherited ancestral institutions and regulations—that is the soil in which Great Qian takes root and grows. Thousands of years of civilization, Confucian ethics, rulers and subjects and common people, aristocratic politics… Specific thoughts need mature times and productivity to nurture them. If the times haven’t developed to that stage, if the people and even society as a whole lack an adaptation period, then we shouldn’t force premature growth.”
Across from her, Feiyu’s eyes swirled with countless spirals of confusion.
Wait, I was flirting with you—why are you seriously discussing nation, world, millennia, politics with me…
Though it was quite interesting.
She said sincerely, “I recognize every word you said, but strung together I feel like they know me but I don’t know them.”
“Just rambling.” Tie Ci also realized she’d gotten overly serious, probably because she had things on her mind that she couldn’t help expressing.
She smiled, “Then let’s do an on-the-spot interview. What do you think? Do you think ‘all people are born equal’ is right or wrong?”
“I think that saying is bullshit,” Feiyu said. “All people born equal—sounds nice. But if you have no money, no power, no one values you, who’s going to give you equality? What use is it for you to want equality yourself? Others have to give it to you—all of Great Qian has to give it to you!”
“Crude language, but sound reasoning.” Tie Ci laughed. “That’s exactly the point. If you want equality, take it slowly.”
“No, I don’t want equality,” Feiyu sneered. “If it were me, I’d want absolute inequality—inequality where everyone kneels at my feet.”
“Admirable ambition. You want to be emperor?” Tie Ci asked with a laugh.
“No.” The courtesan coquettishly pointed a finger at Tie Ci’s forehead. “I only want to be Young Master Mao’s heart and soul, precious honey candy.”
“Young Master Mao would be delighted.”
After all, she wasn’t actually Young Master Mao.
The main plot had instantly turned into a third-rate romance.
“Speaking of which, you actually dare question your master’s teachings?”
“Daring to question is also part of my master’s teachings to me.”
“That’s interesting. I like it.” Feiyu smiled as she warmed her hands by the fire. “If your master ever wants to beat you, I’ll help you.”
“My master’s kindness to me is as deep as a mountain.” Mentioning Yun Buci naturally softened Tie Ci’s tone. “That won’t happen.”
The sky gradually brightened. The foot of the mountain returned to quiet. Last night’s bloodshed left no trace like a dream.
“What kind of people might the villagers be?”
Feiyu hesitated, then said, “When I was at Fuchun Tower, I saw all sorts of people and heard a legend. Hidden Dragons—have you heard of them?”
“The legendary ten great hermit masters, collectively called Hidden Dragons.”
“That’s one explanation. There’s another—during the last ten years of the previous emperor’s reign, court politics were chaotic, with imperial family members fighting for power. Princes and nobles were constantly investigated, their homes raided, entire families executed. Among them, several of the most powerful families had those hermit masters as patrons, who also recruited disciples on their behalf. Over decades of management and cultivation, they accumulated considerable influence. Later, for unknown reasons, these princes and royal descendants were all found guilty and their families fell. Though their households were slaughtered clean, those masters and their disciples disappeared without a trace. Because of this, people always suspect those people are still around, hiding somewhere. Everyone is a master’s disciple with exceptional skills—getting one is like getting a thousand troops. Some say that since these people were supported by imperial family members, when those nobles fell into trouble, would they really stand by and watch? Maybe they saved one or two descendants, just waiting for the right time to rise again…”
Tie Ci knew this history. Those fallen nobles included her uncles and great-uncles—in short, those who had been more qualified than her father to be emperor back then. Yet they were all dead.
Some died suddenly, some from long illnesses, some for treason. But the specific reasons and events were sealed in the Imperial Archives, kept strictly secret.
The dead were the defeated, and the defeated didn’t deserve history.
These events naturally contained many suspicious points. The imperial family certainly hadn’t forgotten them—at the very least, Tie Ci knew the Xiao family had a secret army specifically for guarding against and hunting down enemies. Xiao Xueya’s growing military power was certainly preparation for the Xiao family’s usurpation, but also for defense. With the Xiao family now dominating the court, officials flocking to them with almost no opposition, what were they still guarding against?
Was this unknown small village at the foot of the deep mountain really a base for legendary hermit masters’ disciples? And who was that master?
In this mountain village, might there still be hidden imperial family members—had they retired to pastoral life, or were they lying dormant for twenty years waiting for opportunity?
The sky gradually brightened. The two took turns sleeping briefly. After their clothes dried they changed garments. The spring below was the legendary spiritual spring. After drinking a few mouthfuls, Tie Ci felt it was indeed refreshingly sweet and cool. The burning sensation in her throat improved considerably—she could barely speak in a breathy voice. Her eyes, carefully washed, could open to a thin slit. Looking at her reflection in the spring water, Tie Ci suddenly remembered a riddle:
Round head, thin eyes, light as a feather in the wind.
Ah, a cicada.
Feiyu, who had pretended to be a lotus with a broad leaf, leaned against a tree watching Tie Ci, who considered herself a cicada. Seeing that person looking back and forth at the spring water, squinting her eyes this way and that, probably thinking she looked ugly in her blurred vision, quite worried and distressed.
She found it amusing and couldn’t help smiling, but her gaze followed the other’s rounded forehead to her flying eyebrows, jade-pipe-straight nose, and full lips. Touched with spring water, they gleamed with subtle light, reminding one of flower buds touched with night dew. This person’s skin was a warm porcelain white, not cold-looking, smooth and lustrous like a whole piece of finest soft jade.
That person crouched by the water, so a jade statue was reflected in the water. Even the ripples were bright and gentle, hazily spreading outward.
Feiyu stared at Tie Ci’s lips for quite a while before turning her gaze away.
But footsteps came again. The two looked back to see an old man with a basket on his back coming up the mountain—apparently going to chop wood. His face looked somewhat familiar—he was from the village below.
Both involuntarily tensed, but the other was very natural. Seeing them, he said, “Dongde made thin porridge and is looking for you two. Hurry back—the baby should be hungry.”
Neither Tie Ci nor Feiyu were timid people, so they agreed. Feiyu quickly gathered more bird eggs, picked some wild grass, collected spring water, and carried the child down the mountain. Everything in the village was normal—some people nodded, some ignored them. No one reacted to last night’s events or questioned their fleeing from battle.
Tie Ci felt somewhat ashamed, but since the others didn’t mind, she needn’t be affected. Arriving at Dongde’s house, the couple maintained their attitude—neither cold nor warm, yet they invited them to eat. Feiyu matter-of-factly handed the child to Dongde’s wife to nurse, then went into the kitchen herself. After a while, she produced a cold dish—wild bird eggs cooked to perfect soft-boiled consistency, using only the yolks mixed with wild scallions and several fragrant seasonings gathered from the mountains. Tender, fresh, and delicious in the mouth, not only Dongde’s family but even Tie Ci had an extra bowl of thin porridge.
Dongde’s wife cut a plate of radish shreds as a side dish. Tie Ci heard the knife fall like rain, saw the radish shreds fine as hair, and remembered last night in the storm when this woman’s twin blades flashed and two heads fell to the ground.
Tie Ci stared at those radish shreds.
The knife that cut radish shreds? The knife that beheaded people last night?
Dongde’s wife noticed her doubt and said gently, “Don’t worry—I washed it clean.”
…Indeed.
Tie Ci silently put down her chopsticks.
Saying that makes it even harder for me to eat.
Dongde snorted without looking up, “Coward from outside the mountains.” Then got kicked under the table by his wife.
Dongde’s wife smiled at Tie Ci, “You outsiders haven’t seen the world—running was right. Otherwise when we got excited fighting, we might have forgotten about you and accidentally caused you fright and injury.”
The inexperienced Tie Ci fell silent again. After a long while she said, “Do you often… attract bandits?”
From this couple’s tone, they didn’t seem to think these black-clothed men were related to them.
“Many in earlier years—every three to five days. Very few these recent years. This year it’s the first time,” Dongde slurped down a bowl of porridge. “Good that they came—my hands were getting itchy.”
“Were they… all the same group?”
“Who knows? We don’t care about all that.” Dongde waved his hand. “Our village rule: honest and proper people, we respect. Not proper people—kill them and don’t bother burying.”
Tie Ci glanced at Feiyu.
Stealing that auntie’s garlic and oil hardly counts as honest and proper, right?
Dear, may I suggest you start looking at grave sites from now on?
Just asking these few questions made it clear—this matter wasn’t significant to the villagers, so they wouldn’t mind their fleeing from battle. Even so, Tie Ci decided to leave some silver when departing.
Since this place was safe, she settled down peacefully to recover. Feiyu’s cooking skills were widely acclaimed, recently taking turns helping each household cook, and they often brought her some wild game.
This person was clever and unrestrained, approaching cooking with boundless creativity, unconstrained by convention. Her original dishes often amazed people.
She took strongly scented wood unused by mountain people to smoke deer meat, dried and shaved into rolls with unique fragrance. One layer deer meat roll, one layer egg skin, one layer flexible noodle skin soaked in chicken broth—red, yellow, white, three bright beautiful colors. Dipped in homemade spicy sauce, it made Tie Ci, raised on gentle palace cuisine, constantly think of taking concubines.
Tie Ci sometimes walked around the village. Next door lived an old man who kept a yard full of sheep, carrying them out one by one each morning, then cursing loudly across the courtyard wall about who stole his goat milk, provoking hot-tempered Dongde to rush out and argue back. Finally each was dragged away by neighbors and wives.
The garlic-stealing auntie lived alone. She loved gambling but was terrible at it—always lost and always refused to pay. Over time, no one would play cards with her, so sometimes she played with the pigs in her pen.
When Tie Ci and Feiyu arrived, she was delighted, daily calling across the fence for people to play a two-player card game called Swallow Cards. Tie Ci declined due to eye injury. But Feiyu went happily, somehow always winning while the other person lost but wasn’t angry, sending her off cheerfully and calling again next time.
Tie Ci asked about this. Feiyu said, “She likes gambling, but doesn’t like paying out big money after losing. So I gamble seriously with her, but not for money. If I win she punches me once, if I lose I punch her once—she can fight back. It doesn’t matter that she always loses because her fists are always faster than mine, so I’m still the one getting beaten in the end. Of course she’s very happy.”
Tie Ci sensed something wrong. This person was so self-sacrificing, volunteering as a punching bag?
“And then?”
“Then we’ve gambled seventeen or eighteen times these past days.” Feiyu stopped abruptly.
Tie Ci kept staring at her. Just then an early mosquito buzzed over. Feiyu’s fist shot out, flattening the mosquito on the table.
The punch wind was fierce, stirring the hair by Tie Ci’s cheek. The mosquito turned to powder while the table remained perfectly still.
Just like that night when the auntie’s barrage of punches instantly blasted the night visitor from inside the house to outside with amazing momentum, yet nothing inside was damaged.
…Then she’d secretly learned their boxing technique.
Tie Ci cupped her hands, expressing sincere admiration.
Feiyu smoothed her hair with a gentle smile.
…
But the very popular Feiyu sometimes also fled in embarrassment, running through the village like a stray wild dog. This happened when she encountered the big girl who lived next door to next door to the boxing auntie’s next door. That dark-skinned big girl was very interested in Feiyu, always clinging to her. Each time she transformed into a wisp of smoke rolling through the village, there was definitely a Feiyu attached to the front.
Tie Ci had been wandering the village recently. Though deliberately not grooming her hair and always having some soot on her face, her luminous features were hard to hide. Gradually she also had suitors, so that when she and Feiyu slept back-to-back on the grass mat until midnight, they were always awakened by sounds from the rafters. Opening their eyes, they’d either see a young man hanging upside down with a flower in his mouth, or a girl sitting on the beam staring dreamily at those below.
Sometimes opening their eyes, they’d see both the young man and girl simultaneously.
As for the shepherd boy who herded sheep daily but always carried a sheep while running to exercise his legs, the fat widow who made excellent needlework but used embroidery needles to hunt birds and kept inviting Tie Ci to eat fried birds at her house, the eighty-eight-year-old man who leaned on a walking stick fishing daily, nearly falling apart from age yet still wanting to marry Feiyu as his second wife… Walking around, Tie Ci always wondered which of these characters were descendants of imperial families? Which were her great-uncles, uncles, or other relatives?