In Lord Li’s room. The Marquis of Kangding had arrived before dawn, speaking at length about his son’s murder case. His words were filled with worry and lamentation, with a few tears welling up in his eyes that never quite fell, holding them back several times.
Lord Li felt uncomfortable as well. What should have been a joyful celebration of his birthday, with all the prestigious figures in Yanjing City in attendance, showing him full respect and honor, had been marred by this incident. A happy occasion colliding with a tragedy—and the deceased was none other than the nephew of Minister Wang from the court, while the one accused of murder was his own nephew. Such a situation was truly difficult to handle.
But for the sake of fairness, neither Lord Li nor the Marquis of Kangding could show favoritism, lest they invite criticism. “Elder Brother, though Shiyan is somewhat unruly, he would absolutely never commit murder. This time, as General Su said, he must have been framed. But how is two days enough time? Elder Brother, you must speak up!” The Marquis was anxious, having spent the entire night restless and uneasy. He had wanted to visit his son but worried about inviting gossip, so he could only come to find Lord Li at the crack of dawn and had now stayed for two full hours.
He kept repeating the same few sentences over and over.
Lord Li sat cross-legged on his mat and sighed. He picked up the tea from the tea table, preparing to drink it, but when the tea reached his lips, he set it down again. Deep wrinkles furrowed across his forehead as he looked at the anxious Marquis of Kangding sitting across from him and said, “This time Shiyan has caused trouble that cannot be smoothed over with just a word from me. Small scuffles can usually be resolved, but this is murder—a matter of life and death. Even if His Majesty were here, he couldn’t abuse his power for personal gain, let alone me.”
“But Elder Brother…”
“As his father, you’ve indulged your son in daily life, letting his temperament become lawless. Every time he causes trouble, you’re there to clean up his mess, which is why he’s become like this. If we’re to assign blame, it should go to you as his father for your inaction, which has led to your son becoming this way!” Lord Li’s tone was severe, carrying the authority of an elder brother as he scolded him, though his words still carried some underlying concern.
The Marquis felt ashamed, knowing he had been too lenient with Li Shiyan before, spoiling him into his bad habits. But what could he do… he had only one son under his knee; if he didn’t dote on him, what else could he do? Moreover, he was usually too busy, which led to lax discipline, allowing Li Shiyan to act willfully throughout Yanjing City under the title of heir apparent. Now that he’d caused such trouble, he as the father was filled with regret.
However—
He couldn’t just sit and wait for disaster! So he looked at his elder brother, swallowing his pride to plead, “Yes, I do bear some responsibility in this, but Shiyan would absolutely never kill anyone. Elder Brother, he’s your own nephew—you should believe in him. Though his temperament is somewhat flamboyant, his heart is good. Even if you gave him a hundred times the courage, he wouldn’t dare commit murder!”
“But the current situation is exactly as it is!”
“Go talk to Minister Huang and ask him to extend the deadline by a few days. Two days really isn’t enough!”
Lord Li sighed: “I’m afraid even if Minister Huang agrees, Minister Wang will harbor resentment.”
“Then…” The Marquis scratched his head anxiously, his heart burning like fire.
Lord Li was also helpless. If he were a neutral party, going to speak with Minister Huang wouldn’t be problematic, but Li Shiyan was his nephew, so in this case, his position was rather sensitive. If he truly intervened, Minister Wang would likely make a big issue of it, yet he couldn’t simply ignore the matter.
Now, he could only think of one person—
“The Old Master of Ning’an Manor!”
…
After the time it takes to burn one incense stick, Lord Li immediately sent Uncle Liang, an old subordinate who had followed him for many years, to the Falling Grass Pavilion where the Old Master was in seclusion, intending to ask the Old Master to intervene.
The Falling Grass Pavilion was located in a bamboo grove behind the manor. Unless one ventured deep into the forest, it would be difficult to discover this short tower. The large door of the tower bore the three characters “Falling Grass Pavilion” written prominently. The Old Master and the divine physician Wen Cong were inside in seclusion, and had been for quite some time. Usually, several servants took turns delivering meals and attending to them.
As for the Old Master not attending Lord Li’s birthday celebration due to his seclusion, that was understandable, but the fact that Wen Cong, who usually loved to join in festivities, also hadn’t gone seemed rather strange.
Inside the pavilion was completely tranquil, furnished very elegantly. A Buddha statue stood in the tower, surrounded by many tall candle stands filled with lit candles. Yellow streamers hung beside the red pillars in the tower, rippling in the warm breeze coming through the window, and even the candles on the stands trembled faintly, looking as if they were about to be blown out.
The second floor was filled with bookshelves, packed densely with various books leaving no gaps. Books that couldn’t fit on the shelves were simply piled on the floor.
At this moment, the Old Master and Wen Cong were in seclusion in the warm chamber on the second floor.
To call it seclusion was really just discussing knowledge, playing chess, drinking tea, and occasionally chatting about court affairs or the grudges and grievances of the martial world.
The two sat cross-legged on the floor with a chessboard between them. The Old Master held black pieces, Wen Cong held white pieces. Looking at the situation on the board, clearly there were more black pieces, while the white pieces were in danger. In a few more moves, the white pieces would likely be completely captured and defeated.
Wen Cong, in his mid-forties, held a white piece between his fingers, brows furrowed, eyes blazing as he stared at the board, contemplating where to place his next move.
He didn’t place his piece for a long time.
The Old Master sitting across from him, in his early seventies, wasn’t in a hurry either. He stroked his grizzled beard, his slightly narrowed eyes also fixed on the chess game. He didn’t rush or disturb, and after a while, simply picked up his teacup and took a sip.
Until Wen Cong finally placed the white piece from his fingertips!
The Old Master’s eyes, narrowed to slits, opened slightly as he nodded, “In these few days, your chess skills have improved considerably.”
“Old Master, please don’t tease me. In these past days playing so many games with you, I haven’t won even once.”
“Winning or losing isn’t important—what’s important is what you’ve learned!”
“That’s certainly true, but to master it requires time, and I can’t stay here too long. Otherwise, I would definitely study chess strategy properly with you, Old Master.”
“Everyone has their strengths! I spend all day idle in the manor—besides reading books, drinking tea, I just play chess. Over time, naturally I’ve become skilled. But you’re different—your medical skills are exquisite, you have the ability to save lives and heal the wounded. Everyone praises you as a divine physician. Such talent is far superior to this old man who only knows how to play chess.” The Old Master, advanced in years, spoke unhurriedly and slowly, then picked up a black piece and placed it on the board.
In one move, he captured several of his opponent’s white pieces, picking them up one by one and placing them in the chess bowl.
The Old Master of Ning’an Manor was already seventy-five years old this year, living a life isolated from the world in this manor. But news from the martial world or the court still reached his ears. When he was younger, he would still intervene, but as he grew older, reaching this advanced age, he merely listened, then turned back to his books and chess games, maintaining a detached attitude and not concerning himself with idle matters. He had no children in his lifetime, living alone, yet didn’t feel lonely—rather, he felt free, simply waiting to depart peacefully when his time came.
As for Wen Cong, he had originally come to celebrate Lord Li’s birthday, but suddenly secluded himself in the Falling Grass Pavilion to keep the Old Master company for a few days. Even though such major events had occurred outside these past two days, he hadn’t gone out to look even once, as if his personality had changed.
After one cup of tea, the current game ended.
Needless to say, the Old Master won again!
They gathered their respective pieces, preparing to start another game, when someone knocked on the warm chamber door.
A servant entered carrying an incense burner, placing it beside the chessboard while saying, “Master, Uncle Liang is outside the Falling Grass Pavilion requesting an audience. He says Lord Li sent him to deliver a message.”
The death of Wang Huai had caused an uproar throughout the manor, reaching the Old Master’s ears the very night it happened—he simply hadn’t paid attention to it.
Now that Uncle Liang had come to see him, it was certainly about this matter.
The Old Master showed no reaction, instead starting a new game with Wen Cong, placing his black piece on the bare chessboard.
However, Wen Cong didn’t place his white piece for a long time. Instead, he covered the chess bowl beside him and said, “Old Master, my chess skills are still not refined enough! I’m afraid if I continue playing, I’ll be too ashamed to show my face. Why don’t we end our chess for today?”