Preface:
What is love in this world, that it compels one to pledge life and death?
— Yuan Haowen, “Song of the Wild Geese”
Chapter 1: The Censor-in-Chief’s Gift
It seemed urgent. They were Big Brother’s colleagues. Could it be related to him?
Old Zhang, the doorkeeper, bowed and said, “Please follow me, honored guests.”
Nan Gong Qianrou rose and followed Old Zhang through the front hall to the rear courtyard. In the distance, they saw a child in a small cloth wrap, whose appearance could only be described as cute, being led out by a stunningly beautiful young woman in a long dress.
The child pouted, reluctantly following step by step.
As they crossed paths, the young woman stopped, astonished as she examined the three Night Watchmen.
“These honored guests are here to see the master,” Old Zhang explained.
Xu Lingyue nodded with reserve, averting her gaze and pulling the little one aside.
Xu Ling’yin, one hand held by her sister, raised the other, her short finger pointing at Nan Gong Qianrou, and exclaimed:
“What a beautiful big sister, as beautiful as Mother!”
Beautiful sister?! Nan Gong Qianrou’s expressionless face nearly cracked, incredulously turning to stare at Xu Ling’yin, his eye twitching.
Is this child an idiot? Are her eyes just for show?
He slightly raised his chin, allowing the child to see his Adam’s apple. But the foolish child didn’t grasp his meaning at all, continuing to babble:
“Big sister, you’re as beautiful as my mother.”
She seemed to think that being as beautiful as her mother was high praise.
Nan Gong Qianrou swept away, his sleeves fluttering. If anyone else dared to call him a woman, they’d be in for a world of hurt, if not worse. But as a dignified Gold-badge Night Watchman, he couldn’t be bothered to argue with a child.
Xu Lingyue watched as Nan Gong Qianrou and the other two entered the main hall.
“Big Sister, why did we stop?” Xu Ling’yin raised her small face.
“They’re Big Brother’s colleagues. We’ll go to the school later,” Xu Lingyue said softly, leading her sister back.
In the rear hall, Xu Pingzhi, who had just finished eating, hurriedly stood up to greet them. Confused and apprehensive, he cupped his hands and said, “Gold-badge Officer.”
The presence of a Gold-badge Night Watchman at the Xu residence was something Xu Pingzhi hadn’t anticipated.
Given the lofty status of a Gold-badge officer, even if Xu Qi An was doing well in the Night Watchmen’s office, it wouldn’t warrant such a distinguished visitor to a mere Bronze-badge’s home.
Unless there was an urgent matter.
This Gold-badge officer is quite handsome, from a distance I thought it was a woman, not inferior to the effeminate Second Young Master… Xu Pingzhi thought to himself.
“Beautiful big sister,” the little one called out, following Xu Lingyue back and standing at the threshold, trying to be ingratiating.
This child is really annoying. You’ll have your time to cry soon enough… Nan Gong Qianrou frowned, thinking of Xu Qi An’s death, his heart sinking.
His gaze passed over Xu Pingzhi and landed on the beautiful woman by the dining table. The child wasn’t wrong; she was indeed a stunning woman.
“To what do we owe the honor of your visit, Gold-badge Officer?” Xu Pingzhi asked.
Nan Gong Qianrou withdrew his gaze and, after a moment of silence, said gravely, “Bronze-badge Xu Qi An has fallen in the line of duty in Yunzhou. I’ve come to deliver the bereavement money.”
As he spoke, he opened his palm, and the Bronze-badge officer behind him, with a solemn expression, handed over the silver.
Nan Gong Qianrou then offered the three hundred taels of bereavement silver to Xu Pingzhi, who didn’t take it. He stood there, frozen like a stone statue, motionless.
Even his gaze was fixed.
Xu Qi An has fallen in the line of duty… Nan Gong Qianrou’s words exploded like thunder in Xu Pingzhi’s ears, shattering his soul and breaking his heart.
In an instant, it felt as if the whole world had lost its color. His mind was filled with the terrible news, leaving him utterly devastated.
Xu Qi An was his nephew, his elder brother’s orphan. He had raised him for twenty years, no different from his own son. No, even more beloved than his own son.
Second Uncle Xu had always felt a strong sense of responsibility towards Xu Qi An, as he was the only surviving descendant of his elder brother’s line.
Raising him to adulthood, seeing him marry and have children, continuing the family line for the eldest branch – this had been Xu Pingzhi’s most cherished wish in life.
Now, this nephew was gone, just like that?
In his dazed state, Xu Pingzhi suddenly heard the sound of someone collapsing. He turned to see that his wife had fainted.
“Big Sister, what does ‘fallen in the line of duty’ mean?” Xu Ling’yin didn’t understand. She looked up at Xu Lingyue beside her.
Xu Lingyue didn’t answer. She stood there woodenly, like a lifeless paper flower, beautiful but pale.
Old Zhang, the doorkeeper, began to wail, “Fallen in the line of duty means he’s dead!”
Nan Gong Qianrou sighed inwardly, placed the silver on the table, and said, “In three to five days, the remains will be sent back to the capital. You should prepare for the funeral in advance.”
Naturally, the urgent official document would arrive in the capital before the remains.
Having said this, Nan Gong Qianrou turned to leave.
“You’re lying!”
A roar like that of a little lion came from behind. Xu Ling’yin blocked the path of the three Night Watchmen, glaring fiercely at Nan Gong Qianrou.
At six years old, she already knew what death meant.
Nan Gong Qianrou ignored her and tried to walk around her. But Xu Ling’yin wouldn’t let him go, chasing after him and hitting him while shouting, “You’re lying, you’re lying…”
A child’s thinking is simple. She believed that if she could make the liar take back his words, her big brother would come back. If she could just beat the liar, her big brother would return…
Nan Gong Qianrou had to quicken his pace, leading the two Bronze-badge officers away from the Xu residence. After walking quite far, he looked back, concerned.
The child had persistently followed them out, standing alone at the doorway, crying loudly, her small body trembling.
Like a little abandoned beast.
Nan Gong Qianrou suddenly felt a twinge of regret. He should have waited a bit longer, until this child had gone to school before delivering the news of Xu Qi An’s death.
“Take her back and tell her family to keep a close eye on her,” Nan Gong Qianrou turned his head and instructed the Bronze-badge officer on his left.
“Yes, sir.”
At the Xu residence, after carrying his unconscious wife back to their room, Xu Pingzhi came to the front hall looking for his daughter, intending to offer some words of comfort. But Xu Lingyue sat motionless at the table, her eyes hollow.
Second Uncle Xu let out a slow breath and called for Old Zhang, the doorkeeper. In a heavy voice, he said, “Send someone to the academy to inform Second Young Master of the news. Tell him to return home immediately.”
Old Zhang nodded, wiping his tears as he withdrew.
In truth, there weren’t many in the household who could ride a horse. Considering both the gravity of the situation and the time factor, it would have been more appropriate for Xu Pingzhi to go to Cloud Deer Academy himself.
Old Zhang knew that the master was no longer able to ride a horse.
…
From the capital to Clear Cloud Mountain, it takes two hours round trip, and even longer if one’s horsemanship isn’t proficient.
Xu Xinnian returned to the mansion at noon, alone, having left behind the servant who had delivered the message.
Galloping furiously to the main gate, Xu Xinnian suddenly pulled on the reins. The horse came to an abrupt stop, rearing up on its hind legs.
Before the horse’s front hooves could touch the ground, Xu Xinnian had already dismounted. His face pale, he rushed through the gate, tripping over the threshold and falling hard, splitting his forehead.
He seemed oblivious to the pain, staggering to his feet and stumbling into the mansion. In the rear hall, he saw his family members, his mother weeping, his sister with hollow eyes devoid of life.
Of course, there was also Xu Ling’yin, sitting alone on the steps outside the front hall, scribbling on the ground with a dry twig.
When the terrible news arrived, the adults were so consumed by grief that they overlooked the child’s feelings. Xu Ling’yin didn’t dare to ask or speak, she could only sit alone on the steps, silent.
Xu Pingzhi, his eyes red-rimmed, looked at him and said in a low voice, “Second Young Master, your Big Brother… is gone.”
Xu Xinnian swayed, his vision going dark.
…
Shortly after noon, the sky turned gloomy, and a biting wind raged. Soon after, heavy snow began to fall.
This was the first snowfall after the Spring Festival, falling thick and fast. Before long, snow covered the rooftops, treetops, and paths, draping the entire world in a thin silver garment.
In the Imperial Palace, the Imperial Garden.
The Crown Prince had invited the Second Prince, Fourth Prince, Sixth Prince, and three princesses to enjoy the snow at the Clear Extreme Pavilion.
The charcoal fire blazed, and the table was laden with fine wine and delicacies. The Crown Prince took a sip of wine and said with a smile:
“Last year we only had one snowfall. I thought we wouldn’t see snow again until the end of the year. I didn’t expect it to snow again so soon after the Spring Festival.”
The Third Princess laughed and said, “I heard from the astrologers at the Imperial Observatory who make the calendar that the heavier the snow before spring begins, the better the autumn harvest will be. I wonder if it’s true. Although this snow came after the Spring Festival, it still counts as before spring truly begins.”
The Crown Prince nodded with a smile, then looked towards the Fourth Prince and asked, “What’s going on with Huai Qing recently? She’s been staying in her palace all day and not coming out. When I sent someone to invite her for a drink, she claimed to be unwell.”
The Fourth Prince shook his head silently, “I don’t know.”
Huai Qing hadn’t been seen for a while. She used to occasionally gather with her royal siblings, but recently she had been completely reclusive.
Although the Fourth Prince and Huai Qing were born of the same mother, Huai Qing’s personality made it difficult for even close siblings to be truly close.
Hmph, she must be too ashamed to show her face in the light of my brilliance… Lin’an took a sip of wine, thinking proudly.
With the widespread popularity of Five-in-a-Row, Lin’an’s great name had caused quite a stir in the capital. Under the dazzling light of her fame, the lowly Huai Qing naturally had to hide at home, not daring to come out.
Thinking of this, Lin’an happily took a few more sips. A rosy blush crept up her round cheeks, and her alluring peach blossom eyes became slightly misty.
The princes couldn’t help but steal a few more glances. Having such a talented and beautiful sister was indeed a pleasure to behold.
Well, the “talented” part was still debatable, but her beauty was undeniable.
In Xu Qi An’s mind, apart from fitting the image of a nightclub queen, Lin’an was like those exceptionally beautiful girls from his school days who had terrible grades.
The kind of girl who would furrow her brow and scratch her head repeatedly when doing math problems.
But because of her extreme beauty, she was pursued by all the boys, which made other girls in the class dislike her and privately mutter “seductive hussy” behind her back.
Huai Qing, on the other hand, was the aloof female top student. But because of her excessively arrogant personality, she wasn’t liked by other girls either, who would privately envy her: “Hmph, what’s so great about her?”
The only difference between the aloof top student and the seductive underachiever was this: the top student could outmaneuver all the other girls in class. The underachiever could only pout angrily.
“This snow is an auspicious sign. Did you hear about yesterday’s urgent report?” the Crown Prince changed the subject.
“About Zhang Xingying suppressing the rebellion in Yunzhou?” the Fourth Prince said.
The Crown Prince nodded: “The Minister of Works from the Qi faction colluded with the Witch Cult to cultivate power in Yunzhou. Their intentions were treasonous. Fortunately, Governor Zhang was exceptionally capable, uncovering the plot and eliminating the rebels.”
After a pause, the Crown Prince looked at his sister Lin’an: “Xu Qi An played a crucial role in this case. He’s been posthumously titled as the Viscount of Changle, which is well-deserved.”
“Of course, Xu Qi An is my…”
Initially, Lin’an was pleased to hear her brother praising Xu Qi An and was about to boast, but hearing the latter part of the sentence, she suddenly froze.
“Crown Prince Brother… what did you say?”
That alluring face, with its sweet smile, gradually froze. Her peach blossom eyes widened slightly, but their sparkle became hollow as she stared blankly at the Crown Prince.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” the Fourth Prince sighed:
“That Bronze-badge Xu Qi An fell in the line of duty. It’s a pity, a real pity.”
Bang… the wine cup shattered on the ground.
Everyone turned to look at Lin’an.
Lin’an was oblivious to her own loss of composure. Her delicate, fair hand tightly gripped the Crown Prince’s sleeve, her voice trembling with tears: “Crown Prince Brother, please don’t joke with me…”
Her eyes glistened with tears and a pitiful plea.
The Crown Prince was taken aback, his face suddenly darkening. He brushed off Lin’an’s hand and said sternly: “This is true. Father Emperor has already drafted the edict. When that Bronze-badge’s remains are returned to the capital, the posthumous title will be conferred.”
“Lin’an, mind your status.”
For a princess of the Great Feng to lose composure over the death of a subordinate like this – the Crown Prince attributed it to Lin’an being overly sentimental. He didn’t want to read too deeply into it.
Lin’an silently withdrew her hand and stood up without a word, walking into the vast snowfall.
“Lin’an, Lin’an…” the Crown Prince chased to the edge of the pavilion, calling after her retreating figure.
The red-clad figure walked on silently, snowflakes falling gently on her hair.
The Crown Prince turned and roared at Lin’an’s personal maid: “Hurry and hold an umbrella for the Princess!”
The maid, who had just picked up an umbrella and was about to follow, paused at his words. She curtsied to the Crown Prince, opened the oil-paper umbrella, and hurried after Lin’an.
In the pavilion, the other princes and princesses were still dazed, their expressions bewildered.
Meanwhile, the maid whose bottom Xu Qi An had once patted held the umbrella, carefully observing Lin’an’s profile, not daring to speak.
What a pity, that Bronze-badge has fallen in the line of duty… the maid sighed inwardly.
Suddenly, she heard soft sobbing. Startled, she turned her head to see that Princess Lin’an was already in tears.
“Princess?!”
The maid called out shakily, frantically looking around. Fortunately, the heavy snow meant there was no one around. She lowered her voice: “Why are you crying? Is it… because of him?”
“I… I don’t know…”
Tears slid down one by one. Lin’an raised her hand and pressed it against her chest.
There was an emptiness here.
…
“It’s snowing. I love snowy days. When it stops, I should be able to have snowball fights with my senior brothers, and build snowmen and snow horses.”
In Princess Huai Qing’s quarters, in a warm tea room, Chu Caiwei held a cup of tea, eating pastries and looking out at the heavy snow.
Her dimples showed faintly as she enjoyed the leisurely afternoon, with hot tea, delicious pastries, and the view of snow.
Princess Huai Qing wore a white palace dress. Long immune to heat and cold, she wore summer clothing that accentuated her figure.
She paid no attention to her close friend’s chatter, holding a book in her hand but staring blankly at the snow.
“Princess Huai Qing, what’s wrong with you? You’ve been absent-minded these past few days,” Chu Caiwei felt ignored and was quite annoyed.
Snow reflected in her bright black eyes as Huai Qing said softly: “Caiwei, I’m afraid the letter I wrote on your behalf won’t be delivered to you.”
Chu Caiwei, eating pastries carelessly, asked: “Why not?”
“He has fallen in the line of duty.”
Chu Caiwei’s hand trembled, and the pastry fell to the ground.
…
Star-Observing Tower, Eight Trigrams Platform.
Chu Caiwei climbed the steps dejectedly, reaching the top of the Star-Observing Tower.
Heavy snow was falling, and a thin layer had accumulated on the Eight Trigrams Platform. The Censor-in-Chief sat cross-legged before his desk, not a single snowflake falling within three feet of him.
Chu Caiwei stopped behind the Censor-in-Chief, choking back tears: “Master…”
“Since you were little, every time a senior brother bullied you, you’d come crying to me to complain,” the Censor-in-Chief said without turning around, smiling as he drank a cup of wine.
“No senior brother bullied me,” Chu Caiwei pouted, then burst into tears: “Xu Qi An is dead, Xu Qi An is dead, I’m so sad…”
The Censor-in-Chief was silent for a moment, then turned to look south, as if intently watching something. Suddenly, he chuckled: “Good news.”
Chu Caiwei cried even harder, stomping her foot and cursing between sobs: “You old codger, you nasty old man, my friend is dead and you say it’s good news? Why don’t you go and die?”
“Is that how you speak to your teacher? Your teacher has lived for five hundred years and hasn’t had enough. I want to borrow another five hundred years from heaven,” the Censor-in-Chief said angrily.
“Then, then what you just said, is that something a teacher should say?” Chu Caiwei sobbed.
“When I say it’s good news, it’s good news,” the Censor-in-Chief said. “Two years ago, did you eat the Rebirth Pill I gave you?”
“What Rebirth Pill?” Chu Caiwei wiped her tears.
“The Rebirth Pill, of which only three are refined every sixty years. Even when that little Emperor Yuanjing begged me, I wouldn’t give him one,” the Censor-in-Chief grew angrier.
“Oh, it’s in my bag,” Chu Caiwei said, still sniffling. “I’d forgotten about it until you mentioned it. I don’t need such a thing.”
The Censor-in-Chief nodded and smiled: “Remember, you gave the Rebirth Pill to Xu Qi An.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“But I didn’t, it’s in my bag.”
“Shut up, you did. If anyone asks you in the future, that’s what you’ll say.”
“Oh.” Chu Caiwei cried again: “Master, Xu Qi An is dead.”
She had a habit of coming to cry to the Censor-in-Chief whenever she was sad. Like a child seeking comfort from parents when upset.
“You’ve just entered the sixth rank recently. Don’t go out for a while.”
After Chu Caiwei left, the Censor-in-Chief opened his palm, revealing an orange, translucent pill resting in his hand.
Then, the Censor-in-Chief plucked a strand of his white beard and gently blew out a breath.
That strand of beard floated on the wind, rising higher and higher, suddenly expanding into a large white bird.
The bird’s cry was desolate as it circled in the air for a moment, then dove down and snatched the Rebirth Pill from the Censor-in-Chief’s hand.
Chu Caiwei returned to her room and began rummaging through the small deerskin pouch at her waist.
“Why did Master suddenly mention the Rebirth Pill, and say I gave it to Xu Qi An…” She sniffled as she searched and searched, but couldn’t find the Rebirth Pill anywhere.
…
“Do you trust Wei Yuan that much? Willing to tell him all your secrets?”
In the dim cabin, Yang Qianhuan sat cross-legged, his back to the coffin.
He quickly realized that the story of Xu Qi An being Wei Yuan’s illegitimate son couldn’t be true. Xu Qi An was twenty years old, while Wei Yuan had already been a eunuch in the palace for over twenty years.
“The whole ‘dad’ thing was just a joke, you know? Don’t you understand memes?” Xu Qi An sighed from inside the coffin:
“Of course I trust him. Lord Wei has been good to me, very willing to nurture my talents. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say his kindness is as heavy as a mountain. But actually, I’m a bit reluctant to tell him my secrets.”
“Why?”
“How to put it… Lord Wei’s thoughts are too deep, impenetrable. You never know what he’s thinking. So you don’t know how he’ll react when you tell him a secret.”
“That’s true. Wei Yuan is like my teacher, both with thoughts so deep it’s frightening. Even a man like me, who can pluck the stars from the sky, can’t see through them.” Yang Qianhuan asked, puzzled:
“Then why are you willing to share these inner thoughts with me?”
Xu Qi An smiled: “Because Senior Brother Yang has the heart of a child.”
Aside from his love of showing off, he doesn’t care about anything else.
Yang Qianhuan nodded, then felt something odd about those words, “I feel like that’s not exactly a compliment… Have you thought about leaving the capital? After all, you’re already ‘dead’, the world is vast, you could go anywhere.”
“But my family is all in the capital. If I can go back, of course I want to,” Xu Qi An sighed:
“I’ve dreamed of roaming the world with a sword and blue robes. But no matter where you go, if you have a home you can return to anytime, you won’t feel lost. If I leave the capital, I might never be able to go back in this lifetime.”
After spending some time together, perhaps out of boredom, they started with casual chat and gradually began sharing their inner thoughts.
“That’s true. When I’m away, just knowing that I have senior and junior brothers at the Imperial Observatory, and my teacher, makes me feel secure. It’s not that I’m truly homeless, I’m just traveling,” Yang Qianhuan nodded slightly.
Xu Qi An said he wanted to go back to seek Wei Yuan’s advice, but that was just to appease Yang Qianhuan. In his heart, he was weighing the pros and cons of being honest.
He knew Wei Yuan was good to him. But after revealing the truth, would Wei Yuan choose to seal Shen Shu again, or turn a blind eye? Without a frame of reference, Xu Qi An didn’t dare to risk it.
After all, he wasn’t Wei Yuan’s real son.
But he was also reluctant to leave the capital, caught in a dilemma.
Moreover, Monk Shen Shu had once asked him to keep the secret and not reveal his existence. Xu Qi An wasn’t sure how Shen Shu would react if he told Wei Yuan the secret.
You can’t assume that just because a powerful expert is always smiling, he’s truly a compassionate bodhisattva.
“Ah, Senior Brother Yang, are you married?” Xu Qi An asked.
“No,” Yang Qianhuan shook his head. “Women are a burden. I don’t need them.”
I see, Xu Qi An thought. I was wondering if when you’re intimate with your wife, you don’t let her see your face either. If so, you’d only have two options: one, be like the Second Sage of Cloud Deer Academy, always standing behind your wife. Two, be a man who prefers the back door.
Thinking about this, Xu Qi An couldn’t help but laugh.
At that moment, the cry of an unknown bird came from outside the ship, desolate and lonely, like the mournful cry of an owl.
Yang Qianhuan was startled at first, then greatly shocked, blurting out: “It’s Master’s aura.”