◎But Qingwu, what you’re walking isn’t a road, isn’t a way, isn’t even a route—it’s a path.◎

Eastern Palace, late night.

The Grand Grandson’s Consort carried a food box into the study.

The Imperial Grand Grandson was sitting at his desk with closed eyes, resting. Hearing the sound of the door opening, without even opening his eyes, he smiled and said: “Eating midnight snacks like this every day, I’m afraid when I get fat later you’ll despise me.”

The Grand Grandson’s Consort efficiently arranged the dishes one by one: “Come eat!”

The two had grown up together since childhood, childhood sweethearts who later became husband and wife, bore children, and knew each other thoroughly. Seeing he hadn’t returned for so long and was staying alone in this study without coming out, she knew something difficult was troubling him.

But from childhood to now, he had been troubled by too many things—asking about them would be endless. She simply just had him eat, saying: “I had them make bamboo shoot sausage for you. Do you want to dip it in some chili?”

The Imperial Grand Grandson had a gentle temperament and smiled: “Sure.”

The Grand Grandson’s Consort also served herself a bowl of rice and silently ate.

She had eaten a lot since childhood, while the Imperial Grand Grandson ate little because of his weak constitution. What he couldn’t finish, she would take and eat.

Now grown up, ten years of marriage, this habit hadn’t changed. Seeing him dawdling slowly, she picked up the rice in front of him and poured half into her own bowl: “It’s fine, I don’t get fat.”

Then she raised her head: “What’s really wrong with you today? How come I’m here and you’re still frowning?”

The Imperial Grand Grandson picked up a chopstick of pickled radish for her to stimulate her appetite, saying softly: “Yuanniang, do you still remember Great-Uncle?”

The Grand Grandson’s Consort’s eyes widened. She was one who knew the truth back then. She immediately looked around, then lowered her voice to ask: “What’s wrong? Why are you suddenly thinking of Great-Uncle?”

The Imperial Grand Grandson: “Nothing, just suddenly remembered.”

He sighed: “It’s been nearly seventeen years since Father and he passed away.”

He had gone from nine years old to now twenty-six.

Back then, Great-Uncle had lifted him over his head and placed him on a tree, saying: “When our A’Hu grows up, he won’t need Great-Uncle and can climb up himself.”

He was timid and cried out in panic. Father came over, looked and sighed: “What are we to do—he’s like a little girl.”

Great-Uncle: “My Yuanniang may be a girl, but she’s quite capable.”

He stood on the tree going “ah ah ah,” but Father smiled and handed Great-Uncle a precept blade: “Uncle, look, A’Hu made this for you.”

Great-Uncle looked up at him: “A’Hu, you went to forge iron again!”

He blushed and stammered: “Anyway, I made it secretly. Great-Uncle, didn’t you say you were going to become a monk later? Do you like this precept blade?”

Great-Uncle laughed heartily: “I was joking. What monk would I be? How would I drink wine and eat meat? Being a wine-and-meat monk would be disrespectful to Buddha—that would bring even less fortune.”

His face became even redder.

Actually, he had originally wanted to forge a general’s long blade. But forging a long blade was too tiring, so he made it into a small short blade. Then hearing a few days ago that Great-Uncle had been shouting at Father at home about becoming a monk to accumulate blessings, he had a flash of inspiration and made this precept blade.

Because he had taken shortcuts, the patterns on the dagger were also half missing.

To make it look better, he drew some patterns on himself. It ultimately didn’t look ugly, but it had no special characteristics—it looked like what ordinary people used. He originally wasn’t planning to give it away, but Father had found it in his room.

So he said: “How about you give it back to me, and I’ll make you a new general’s war blade.”

Great-Uncle: “No need, this one is good enough. Our A’Hu made it himself and made it so well—I’m delighted.”

He took the opportunity to say: “Great-Uncle, Father, can you change my name?”

The name A’Hu was so vulgar.

He said: “Even tiger has many ways to say it. Shanjun would be very good—”

Great-Uncle scoffed: “Shanjun is a girl’s name. For a man, it should be Fierce Tiger—that sounds good!”

He sat on the tree sadly shouting: “I don’t want to be called Qi Fierce Tiger!”

And now, except for his wife, no one called him by this childhood name anymore.

And now, there was a young lady who had come to Luoyang with the precept blade he had given, named Shanjun.

Shanjun…

He took a deep breath. How could it be such a coincidence?

Officially, Father died of illness, but actually he had taken his own life. Few knew this.

Great-Uncle vomited blood and died upon hearing of Father’s death. Everyone knew this. Even he felt there was no falsehood to it.

But indeed, he had never seen Great-Uncle’s body.

With Father dying so tragically, it was possible Imperial Grandfather couldn’t bear to kill Great-Uncle.

He was uneasy but didn’t dare rashly send people to investigate Huailing, afraid Imperial Grandfather would know. He could only plan gradually.

His face was full of worry, and he couldn’t eat another bite.

If it really was as he thought, then this young lady was raised by Great-Uncle in Huailing.

He needed to protect her somewhat.

After all, she was someone called Shanjun—fundamentally, there was a bond of fate there.

He stared blankly in a daze. The Grand Grandson’s Consort poked him with her hand: “Did something really happen?”

Imperial Grand Grandson: “Nothing.”

But he couldn’t tell anyone about this.

Only he should recognize that blade. She was also from Duke Zhenguo’s mansion. As long as few people knew, for now there should be no problems.

The Grand Grandson’s Consort was carefree and never overthought. If he said nothing was wrong, then nothing was wrong. But she also had something to say: “You’re just too fond of melancholy. Now our son is like you—I’m quite worried. But I can spank our son, yet I can’t spank you.”

The Imperial Grand Grandson could only eat large mouthfuls of rice.

The Grand Grandson’s Consort gathered the bowls and dishes to leave.

When the two were together, they didn’t like servants attending them and did everything themselves. The Imperial Grand Grandson had done things with her since childhood and was now very consciously pouring water for her to drink.

The Grand Grandson’s Consort drank an entire cup of water in one gulp, patted his hand: “A’Hu, don’t think too much. Great-Uncle was an extremely carefree person. If you keep mentioning him from time to time like this, he might feel uncomfortable.”

The Imperial Grand Grandson nodded repeatedly. After seeing off his carefree wife, he couldn’t help but worry again.

Unexpectedly, the door opened again. The Grand Grandson’s Consort came in carrying bedding: “Let’s sleep here tonight.”

Fine.

The Imperial Grand Grandson smiled and lay down with her. She held him: “Do you want to tell me about what’s worrying you? It’ll be better if you say it out loud.”

The Imperial Grand Grandson said: “I’ve taken a liking to someone.”

The Grand Grandson’s Consort slapped his back.

The Imperial Grand Grandson coughed violently and sighed: “I’ve taken a liking to a subject.”

The Grand Grandson’s Consort smiled embarrassedly: “Who?”

The Imperial Grand Grandson leaned on the bed: “Wu Qingchuan’s disciple, Yu Qingwu.”

Grand Grandson’s Consort: “How did you take a liking to him?”

The Imperial Grand Grandson said gently: “He’s suitable to be a blade. Whether cutting toward Wu Qingchuan or cutting toward Uncle Prince Qi, he’s perfectly suited. I’m currently short of manpower.”

The Grand Grandson’s Consort fell silent: “Then you should also treat him well.”

She held her husband: “I’ve heard about his matters. He’s also a pitiful person.”

……

The next day, at Duke Zhenguo’s mansion, Zhu Shi fell ill. Lan Hui rushed over early to accompany her.

Third Young Madam first had to manage the household, and second, she had witnessed yesterday’s scene. With her there, Mother-in-law would probably feel awkward. After paying respects, she left and didn’t stay in the room. Lan Shanjun certainly didn’t come. So in the whole room, only mother and daughter remained, and Zhu Shi cried grievously again.

Lan Hui’s heart was on fire, and today the corner of her mouth had blistered. When Mother cried, she threw up her hands: “Forget it. Sixth Sister is also angry. That’s her master’s relic. You took it before telling her, and even sent someone to the Shou residence to tell her. Even I feel uncomfortable hearing this.”

Zhu Shi: “I was afraid of her. I didn’t dare not tell.”

Lan Hui: “Since you took it without asking, you should have waited for her to return home before speaking. Why run to someone else’s residence? Isn’t it just to let her know you’re afraid of her in your heart? Oh, you took someone’s things and still act afraid of them—isn’t that purely bullying?”

Zhu Shi was stunned: “I didn’t think that way.”

Lan Hui waved her hand: “But that’s what you did.”

She said: “Yesterday Sixth Sister refused to let me sleep in her bed.”

Speaking of this made her worried: “I finally got closer to Sixth Sister. Now we’re distant again.”

And moreover…

She said: “These past few days, Sixth Sister, or rather, since returning to Duke Zhenguo’s mansion, actually hasn’t been happy at all. Hasn’t Mother noticed? Her whole person…”

Lan Hui made a gesture: “Her whole person is wound very tight, like a bowstring. Just the slightest pull and she’ll snap.”

Zhu Shi sighed: “But her temper is too big. This matter didn’t need to become like this.”

Lan Hui: “Third Brother didn’t mention Sixth Sister’s background, did he?”

Zhu Shi: “Could he be that stupid? He only said she had spiritual affinity, a monk was pleased seeing her, and after dying left her his belongings. The precept blade was just one item.”

Lan Hui: “That’s good. Now I finally understand Fourth Uncle’s feelings.”

Zhu Shi gave her an unamused look and said quietly: “I still have worries in my heart.”

Lan Hui: “What worries?”

Zhu Shi: “Looking like this, your Third Brother will certainly hold a grudge in his heart. When I’m around, I can still pressure your Third Brother to help her later. If she’s wronged at her husband’s family, at least Third Brother can back her up.”

“But now she’s so hostile with Zhang’er. What if she’s bullied by her husband’s family later? I’m afraid your Third Brother won’t help her.”

She shed tears: “Both are my flesh and blood. How could I favor just your Third Brother? You’re all the same in my heart.”

She held Huihui’s hand: “You’re close with your Third Brother. Later, if your Sixth Sister needs help, go tell your Third Brother.”

Lan Hui agreed. After Mother fell asleep, she went to see Sixth Sister. She happened to see Nanny Qian from the Shou residence delivering things. She went forward to greet her and heard Sixth Sister say: “Huihui, Lady Shou brought you some food.”

Lan Hui knew Sixth Sister had spoken well of her before Lady Shou. She said gratefully: “Yes, I also made a sachet for the old lady. I’ll trouble Nanny Qian to take it back later.”

Nanny Qian smiled: “Thank you.”

She looked at Lan Shanjun again: “This is the book Miss requested. Now that it’s delivered, I’ll return.”

Lan Shanjun acknowledged and the two sisters personally saw her out.

Lan Hui looked at her eagerly: “Sixth Sister, can I sit here for a while?”

Lan Shanjun looked troubled: “I want to read for a while.”

Nanny Qian was entrusted by Yu Qingwu to deliver articles written by Duan Boyan.

She saw Lan Hui out: “I know you’ve had an extremely difficult time recently. You must look after both Mother and me—at your age, this is truly rare.”

If Huihui in the previous life could have been this close to her, she would certainly be pleased. But for her now, the word “family affection” was somewhat hard to bear.

She didn’t want to hurt Huihui’s feelings and smiled: “Just look after your own matters. You’re only thirteen.”

For a young girl to worry so much wasn’t good either.

Lan Hui stood dumbly at the door for a while before her eyes reddened.

The little maid saw her like this and said sympathetically: “You have such good intentions, yet Sixth Miss is too much.”

Lan Hui glanced at her: “Shut up!”

She returned resentfully, deciding never to pay attention to Third Brother again.

This was simply an undeserved calamity for her.

On this side, after Lan Hui left, Lan Shanjun smiled and said to Nanny Zhao and Nanny Qin: “I like quiet when reading. Unless it’s something important, no need to call me.”

Nanny Zhao acknowledged, looking at her worriedly. After thinking, she had Nanny Qin go to the courtyard to teach the maids to be quieter, while she personally guarded the door to prevent anyone from disturbing.

It was all a matter of heart exchanging for heart. Previously, though Madam had sent them to care for Sixth Miss, their hearts were still on Madam’s side. But day by day, they could also tell that Sixth Miss was truly good to them.

Naturally their hearts shifted toward Miss’s side.

Yesterday’s matter, she had also heard from Nanny Qin. Nanny Qin was always serious, didn’t like joking or gossiping behind backs, but even she said a complaining sentence: “We weren’t there—we were sent away. Otherwise we definitely would have stopped it.”

This didn’t need to be said explicitly—everyone understood each other.

Nanny Zhao sighed. Just as she was about to hold her sewing basket and make Sixth Miss a pair of socks, she suddenly heard the sound of a teacup breaking inside.

Nanny Zhao quickly turned to ask through the door: “Miss?”

After waiting quite a while, she heard Sixth Miss say: “Nothing.”

Nanny Zhao’s heart was in her throat, but she didn’t dare go in. She could only continue guarding the door.

Inside, Lan Shanjun stood among broken porcelain pieces, her face colorless, tightly gripping that paper in her hand, her back ramrod straight.

It was the old monk’s calligraphy.

Even though many years had passed, with just one look, she could still recognize it.

Suddenly, she felt her head getting heavier and heavier. She struggled to reach up and remove all the hairpins from her head, throwing them on the ground one by one. Only when her hair hung loose did she feel she could breathe.

She stood dazed for a moment, then that breath she couldn’t release all along turned into murderous intent again. Her eyes reddened, and she bit down, lowering her voice to curse: “Damn bastard who should go to hell!”

Was this how they gave her A Point of Daylight?

Couldn’t give it to the old monk, so they had to break her bones?

Did they want to see how hard her bones were? Did they want to see how long the person the old monk raised could endure?

She gasped for breath, disheveled, her vision already blurred by tears, yet her back was already ramrod straight.

Not knowing how much time passed, a thread of light suddenly penetrated through the window.

One thread, two threads…

Noon, spring light perfect.

Lan Shanjun stared blankly, spreading open her palm, raising her head and reaching toward the window.

Warm.

Shining on a person very comfortably.

Like the day she died.

She slowly came back to herself, looking down at her surroundings—already a complete mess. She looked blankly for a while, not knowing when she had broken the teacup.

She crouched down, placing the book on her lap, using both hands to pick up the broken porcelain pieces. Then a tear fell onto a porcelain fragment still damp with tea water, splashing ripples.

Lan Shanjun could bear it no longer. For the first time in so many years, she cried silently.

“Master—”

She trembled: “Master, you don’t know how difficult it’s been for me.”

“Why didn’t you also come see me, help me.”

——

After getting off duty, Yu Qingwu went to the Wu residence.

The house Teacher had bought him wasn’t far from the Wu residence. Walking over only took a quarter hour. When he went to the Wu residence, the servants all called him Young Master.

No need to rank by order, no need to add surname. In the Wu residence, he was like Teacher’s son—all the servants knew.

Seeing him come, Teacher was very pleased: “Quickly, I had the kitchen make your favorite stir-fried pork. I also got a pot of good wine. Keep me company and drink some.”

Yu Qingwu hummed acknowledgment. After finishing the meal and wine, he handed Teacher a piece of paper.

Wu Qingchuan received it smiling, but after seeing the words on the paper clearly, his expression suddenly changed. He looked at Yu Qingwu: “How do you have this?”

Yu Qingwu: “Someone sent it to me.”

Wu Qingchuan: “Who?”

Yu Qingwu: “I don’t know. It was just delivered to my door, thrown on the ground.”

He kept his head lowered the whole time, not daring to look up at Wu Qingchuan, asking: “Teacher, the letter says you’ve long had dealings with Marquis Boyuan’s mansion. Is this true?”

Wu Qingchuan stood up, closed the windows tight, pondered for a long time, and looked at Yu Qingwu.

He said: “True or false, does it matter?”

Yu Qingwu slowly exhaled a turbid breath and suddenly laughed bitterly: “Why doesn’t it matter? Yingying’s life, Elder Brother’s life—why do they become unimportant in Teacher’s mouth?”

Wu Qingchuan wasn’t angry. He knew that returning to Luoyang, such a day would come sooner or later.

He sat down: “When you came to ask me, you had probably already believed what was written on the paper.”

He said: “Qingwu, I’m actually quite pleased.”

Yu Qingwu looked up at him, only to see Teacher smiling: “If you never suspected me, always trusted me, that would make me sad.”

“After all, you’re a child I’ve raised for over ten years. I still hope you’ll be clever.”

He slowly folded the paper in his hand: “Your parents both died, and you were bullied in the clan. At age six, you met me. You were extremely intelligent, with photographic memory. After reading an article once you could remember it. At the time I was thinking, you would certainly have great accomplishments in the future.”

“Though I was demoted to Shuzhou then, I still had great ambitions in my heart. I thought even if I died in Shuzhou, there must be someone to inherit the mantle. So I took you as my disciple—to this day, I’ve never been disappointed in you.”

He sighed: “Qingwu, you’re very good—very good. You’re obedient, studious, never self-deprecating, not proud or rash. You’ve truly learned too well. Watching you with a clear and upright face working for the realm and the people, I think of old friends.”

Yu Qingwu asked dazedly: “Who are the old friends?”

Wu Qingchuan: “Grand Tutor Zhe, the former Crown Prince, Duan Boyan.”

A bitterness that hadn’t receded in over ten years rose in his heart. He said softly: “But Qingwu, this world—I spent a lifetime seeing this world clearly. It’s not fair, not clean either.”

“Ministry of Personnel officials are redundant and chaotic, military government is in disorder, the Ministry of Finance has long been depleted, the people suffer unbearably… This is no longer something we can change.”

Yu Qingwu stood up abruptly: “But Teacher, you taught me that even if corrupt officials run rampant—”

Wu Qingchuan cut him off: “It’s not corruption—not corruption.”

He stared quietly at this prized disciple: “Qingwu, it’s not corruption. It’s incompetence.”

Yu Qingwu was shocked into a cold sweat.

But Wu Qingchuan’s expression became increasingly calm: “The character for incompetence far exceeds corruption. Otherwise, why has the world remained like this for so many years?”

Yu Qingwu murmured: “But Teacher, even if you changed your aspirations, you shouldn’t have dealings with Marquis Boyuan’s mansion…”

His voice grew quieter and quieter, his head lower and lower, almost pleading: “Four years ago, you never received Elder Brother’s letter, did you?”

Wu Qingchuan’s head tilted slightly: “No.”

“Last year, you had evidence in hand that Lin Ji killed Elder Brother, but didn’t give it to me?”

Wu Qingchuan turned away: “No.”

Yu Qingwu didn’t respond for a long time.

Wu Qingchuan didn’t know if he believed it or not. Just as he was about to say a few comforting words, he heard him ask: “All these years, Teacher, why didn’t you tell me your will had changed?”

Wu Qingchuan fell silent.

He thought, there had been many opportunities when he could have told Qingwu.

But he couldn’t open his mouth.

This child, from childhood, had listened to him speak of the past, of the realm, of the people. He had grown into the appearance he most desired, grown into a lush parasol tree.

He couldn’t bear to cut off his branches, pull out his roots and make him grow again. He couldn’t bear to say it.

So he kept putting it off, until today.

Even today, he still didn’t want to tell him directly: “Cast aside the past and start over. Follow me in working with those you wanted to eliminate. We’ll definitely be able to establish a firm foothold in Luoyang.”

He couldn’t do it.

He even hoped Qingwu could stand firmly in the past, stand opposite him, and ultimately one day come tell him: “Teacher, you’re wrong.”

But that was too bitter. He had walked that path—he knew how bitter it was.

He couldn’t bear for him to do it.

He walked over and patted his shoulder: “Qingwu, I don’t want to force you. Whether to go or stay, you must decide for yourself.”

Before coming, Yu Qingwu had actually prepared himself, but after arriving, he still couldn’t come to his senses from Teacher’s one sentence.

What did “go or stay” mean, what did “decide for yourself” mean?

He raised his head: “Teacher, you told me that though this path is difficult, with me accompanying you, even if the road ahead is treacherous, you wouldn’t be afraid.”

“Though I never said such words to Teacher, everything I’ve done should have told Teacher that though the road ahead is treacherous, because Teacher is there, I’m not afraid either.”

Hearing this, Wu Qingchuan felt heartache, but still said sternly: “What is a road?”

“Only what can accommodate three carriages side by side is called a road!”

Yu Qingwu stood dazed, raising his eyes to look.

Wu Qingchuan: “What accommodates three carriages side by side is a road, what accommodates two is a way, what allows one carriage is a route—but Qingwu, what you’re walking isn’t a road, isn’t a way, isn’t even a route. It’s a path.”

What couldn’t accommodate carriages was called a path.

He said mournfully: “A thorny small path already covered with the blood of predecessors—will you still walk it?”

His voice lowered, as if speaking to Yu Qingwu but also to himself: “Is their blood not enough? Is their blood not hot enough? Why couldn’t they open a road, yet we must?”

But Yu Qingwu had already come to himself. He stood straight and said heavily: “But Teacher—you taught me that precisely because they couldn’t walk through, we must continue walking.”

He thought of Yingying, thought of Elder Brother, thought of every bit of these years, and said bitterly: “Teacher, whether it’s a road, a way, or a route, there will always be two directions. This is called a fork.”

He straightened his back, his voice trembling: “I fear Teacher and I… already have divergent paths.”

In life’s north and south are many forked roads—you go to Xiaoxiang while I go to Qin.