◎”I once was glad when old friends came to Huaishan.”◎

The next day, having gotten his wish the previous night and regained access to the bed chamber, Yu Qingwu went as usual in the early morning to the inner room to refill Shanjun’s lamp.

But the Zhong Kui demon-dispelling lamp was extinguished.

He froze, then looked anxiously toward the bed in chagrin, only to see Shanjun sleeping peacefully, her brow relaxed, a smile at the corners of her mouth—she clearly hadn’t had nightmares.

Yu Qingwu stared at her for a long while, then broke into a brilliant smile.

It seemed that even with the lamp extinguished, she no longer had nightmares. This was a good thing.

He tiptoed out and went to his study to write in his journal: “Though we did not share the same bed and pillow, I was not driven away. Brother Quilt should be happy—from now on, he need not endure hardship and wandering with me.”

Then, thinking further, he wrote with gentle expression: “The mountain lord has cleared the path through the forest, Zhong Kui has already expelled the demons. Very good, very good.”

After finishing, he solemnly put away his journal, mentally planning to buy some other auspicious lamps for Shanjun when he returned this evening.

Such as phoenixes singing in harmony, flying wing to wing. Such as lovesick red beans, lotus flowers blooming in pairs.

He prepared to buy them all back for Shanjun to replace.

About a quarter-hour later, Lan Shanjun also woke. She left her room to find Nanny Qian calling them for breakfast.

Yu Qingwu asked her: “Did you have a good dream last night?”

Lan Shanjun nodded: “Yes, a good dream.”

She smiled: “I dreamed of the old monk.”

Yu Qingwu was curious: “What did the old man say?”

Lan Shanjun: “He said he was going to Shuzhou.”

Yu Qingwu sat down: “Going to Shuzhou?”

Lan Shanjun also sat and took a pork bun to eat: “Yes.”

In the dream, the old monk had smiled and told her: “Shanjun, I’m going to see Shuzhou.”

This time she wasn’t a small child—she was her current self. Not her appearance from her previous life, but wearing the clothes she had worn yesterday. She asked: “Master, what are you going to Shuzhou for?”

The old monk said nothing more.

He only walked forward, then turned back and waved to her, telling her not to follow.

This time, she also didn’t follow.

She stayed behind.

After hearing this, Yu Qingwu’s heart was warm. After Shanjun went to the study, he said to Nanny Qian: “Shanjun must have stayed for me.”

Nanny Qian: “…As long as you’re happy.”

She asked: “This time… you won’t be coming out holding your quilt again, will you?”

Yu Qingwu: “Rest assured, Brother Quilt won’t suffer anymore.”

Nanny Qian smiled. Seeing him step outside, her heart ached, and she still called out to him: “Young Master Yu.”

Yu Qingwu turned back.

Nanny Qian: “You’re going to the Court of Judicial Review prison to see Wu Qingchuan today, aren’t you?”

Yu Qingwu nodded: “He’s been sentenced to execution. I’m going to see him off.”

Nanny Qian sighed: “That man used to be quite good. How did he become like this? I hated him before, but now I feel somewhat uncomfortable.”

The two had known each other for decades after all.

She said: “I won’t go see him off.”

Yu Qingwu: “Alright.”

Nanny Qian thought for a moment, then added: “Tell him that since he committed evil, I won’t worship him at Qingming Festival in the future. In the future, no one will worship him. Without incense offerings or merit, in his next life, he’ll be a poor ghost.”

She sighed: “At that time, how will he change then?”

She shook her head: “Young Master Yu, there’s another saying I don’t quite understand, but it was said by my master—that is, Wu Qingchuan’s older brother. I remember, several times when Wu Qingchuan did something wrong, Master Wu would use this saying to admonish him.”

She continued: “Take these words to him, so he can reflect properly before he dies.”

Yu Qingwu was curious: “What words?”

Nanny Qian: “When gold and jade fill the hall, none can keep them. Wealth and honor with arrogance bring calamity upon oneself. If it benefits the state and the people, give one’s life to it.”

Yu Qingwu paused upon hearing this, then nodded: “Alright.”

He hesitated, then suddenly smiled at Nanny Qian: “These were also the words he once used to admonish me.”

——

In the Court of Judicial Review prison, Yu Qingwu descended the steps and saw Wu Qingchuan confined alone in a cell.

He was disheveled and filthy, his expression completely invisible, but when Yu Qingwu walked to the wooden bars, the iron chains binding him suddenly rattled.

He must have been tortured. With any movement, his wounds pained him, making him gasp involuntarily as he said: “Congratulations. You set up this grand scheme and can finally kill me.”

Yu Qingwu looked at him quietly for a moment, then sat cross-legged on the ground, saying slowly: “The Elder lured me to death; I lured the Elder to ruin. The victor is king, the vanquished a bandit—it’s quite fair.”

Wu Qingchuan laughed coldly: “What, come to laugh at this defeated bandit? Come to see how wretched and regretful this person who abandoned you is?”

Through the bars, apart from his expression, Yu Qingwu discovered he still couldn’t see his face clearly.

He shook his head: “I wouldn’t say abandoned me. I’m not a child—naturally I know people change.”

He paused, then said: “You were afraid.”

People become afraid; people can change paths.

“—But why use others’ lives as blood sacrifice for your fear, for your change of path?”

Wu Qingchuan instead became expressionless: “Is it still important to discuss this now?”

Yu Qingwu asked as he had years ago: “Why isn’t it important? Is my brother’s life truly worthless in your eyes?”

He said word by word: “This very day, do you dare say before heaven, earth, and the divine spirits how you murdered my brother?”

Wu Qingchuan suddenly laughed: “I’ve already become like this. I’m certain to die. You’ve gotten your revenge. What does it matter whether you know the process or not?”

Yu Qingwu’s expression darkened: “What does it matter?”

He grabbed the bars, suppressing his anger: “The matter is that when a person is murdered, he himself and his relatives have the right to know how he died!”

What didn’t matter to Wu Qingchuan was his nightmare day and night.

Sometimes in his dreams, his brother was pushed into a river, struggling to survive with no one to save him. Other times, someone first covered his mouth to suffocate him, then dumped the body afterward.

He speculated on the details, playing out thousands upon thousands of different murders in his nightmares. Even now, he could not be free.

This was an ailment he could never cure in this lifetime.

Violent energy churned in his eyes: “Wu Qingchuan, I truly hate you. I also hate myself for taking you as my teacher and never doubting you.”

Wu Qingchuan was silent for a while, then smiled: “I see… so that’s why you’re still willing to come find me.”

He said flatly: “If you must hear it, I’ll tell you.”

“Three years ago, in the winter of the forty-seventh year of Yuanshao…”

“I remember it was the eighth day of the twelfth month—just the right day for Laba porridge, so I had you stay at my house. Xingzhou hadn’t planned to come, but when you didn’t return to the Yu residence for a long time, he came looking for you. I told him to stay with you too, and he agreed—I knew then that coming to find you was just an excuse. He must have wanted to take something from me.”

“Sure enough, that evening, he snuck into the small study.”

Wu Qingchuan: “As you know, the large study is where I keep documents—it’s always guarded. But the small study was where you usually read and wrote—easy to enter.”

“I had people watch him. I wondered what could be in the small study for him to take… I was quite curious then, so I didn’t stop him.”

He paused, then sighed: “After he took the thing out, I discovered he had taken a poem I had written before.”

Yu Qingwu frowned tightly: “What poem?”

Wu Qingchuan smiled: “A poem that sounded like sedition… That child was quite clever, knowing what His Majesty hates most.”

Yu Qingwu: “I thought my brother was silenced because he obtained evidence of your private tea trade with Marquis Boyuan.”

Wu Qingchuan sneered: “You later made such a fuss about the private tea trade that Marquis Boyuan died—did anything happen to me?”

Yu Qingwu suddenly understood: “So that’s what you thought…”

Wu Qingchuan: “Xingzhou hated me for not caring about Yingying’s death and instead associating with Marquis Boyuan—I can understand that. He hated Marquis Boyuan and wanted to bring down his household—I can understand that too. So when he discovered my dealings with Marquis Boyuan and wanted to expose it, I could suppress him without killing him—but he absolutely shouldn’t have tried to obtain that poem I wrote in Shuzhou.”

The poem he had written while drunk naturally contained some resentment.

He himself didn’t even remember it.

Wu Qingchuan said sternly: “I knew better than any of you that one word—’foolish’—could prevent this world from ever recovering. Our combined strength would be completely futile. Only if the Great Xia dynasty changed surnames could it start anew!”

His words grew increasingly self-righteous: “Was I wrong to think this? Was the poem I wrote wrong?”

Yu Qingwu couldn’t say the words “not wrong.”

Wu Qingchuan sneered: “But he wanted to take that poem to threaten me into helping him deal with Marquis Boyuan—as if he were worthy.”

Yu Qingwu’s breathing grew heavier. His hands gripped the bars tightly as he said through gritted teeth: “As if he were worthy? Why wasn’t he worthy?”

“He trusted you, respected you, valued you. After learning of your private tea trade with Marquis Boyuan, he didn’t blame or resent you for Yingying’s death. Only when pushed to the brink did he think of using that poem to threaten you—but did he threaten you? If he had threatened you, he wouldn’t have acted that way, wouldn’t have let you take his life!”

Yu Qingwu struck the bars heavily: “He was being considerate, tearing at his own flesh and blood—on one side was Yingying, on the other were you and me. Before you had someone call me away, he said nothing!”

Wu Qingchuan’s eyes were complex. Finally, he closed them: “To him, I am truly guilty.”

“On the tenth day of the twelfth month in the forty-seventh year of Yuanshao, he went to your residence. I was very afraid—afraid he would tell you about Marquis Boyuan’s household. So I chose to strike first, having him meet me at a teahouse… You’ve been speculating about the details, haven’t you? Let me tell you: after arriving at the teahouse, I told him plainly I had to take this path. But he mocked and ridiculed me just as you do now. I didn’t get angry. I even gave him a chance, wanting him to work for me.”

“But that child was just too stubborn. I had no choice but to first trick him into drinking drugged tea, then smother him with a pillow from the teahouse until he stopped breathing. I had people throw him into the river that very night. However, I heard that he wasn’t completely dead then—he still struggled in the river water.”

Yu Qingwu’s hands gradually tightened, his eyes growing redder and redder.

Wu Qingchuan took a deep breath: “Later… when you knelt and begged me to find him, I was so happy. Heaven was truly helping me. This way I could cover the tracks. No matter what you discovered, I wouldn’t tell you and would thoroughly erase all traces… Thus, you would find nothing.”

He sighed: “What a pity—you still suspected me. If only you hadn’t suspected me, how wonderful that would have been. Qingwu, I truly raised you as my son. I killed him because I didn’t want him to become an obstacle between you and me. Otherwise, father and son working together—what would it matter if we turned Luoyang upside down?”

But after he finished speaking, Yu Qingwu slapped the bars and said hatefully: “Put away your pretense—fortunately you have no wife or children in this life. Otherwise, you would have ended up with wife and children scattered!”

Wu Qingchuan was enraged by those last four words. He sneered coldly and shouted angrily: “I’ve wronged others in this life—but have I wronged you?”

He struggled forward, making the chains constantly emit harsh sounds: “The saying goes: a teacher for a day is a father for life. Yu Qingwu, you ungrateful, disloyal, unfilial thing—what face do you have to speak of me?”

But Yu Qingwu began to calm down, then said softly: “If you were a father, even a vicious tiger doesn’t eat its cubs—you’re worse than a beast. If you were a teacher, a teacher transmits the way, imparts knowledge, and resolves doubts—you’re unworthy.”

He stood up. Having learned the truth of his brother’s death, he was unwilling to debate these matters with him further.

But seeing him about to leave, Wu Qingchuan grew agitated again and shouted: “How are you any different from me? Just another sanctimonious hypocrite. If you had integrity, you should go strike the Drum of Complaint to Heaven, should go die for the wronged common people of Shuzhou—”

Yu Qingwu wasn’t provoked. Instead, he shook his head: “Wu Qingchuan, the only thing you and I have in common is that both Wu and Yu have the character for ‘ear’—both have a pair of ears.”

“But your ears, like your heart, are black, are void—you’ve been deceiving yourself all along, thinking you hear from all directions, are perceptive and clear-sighted. In truth, from the moment you returned to Luoyang, you were already covering your ears to steal the bell.”

Wu—black—void.

This was indeed a portrait of Wu Qingchuan’s life.

He said: “Before I came, Nanny Qian asked me to pass along something to you.”

“—When gold and jade fill the hall, none can keep them. Wealth and honor with arrogance bring calamity upon oneself. If it benefits the state and the people, give one’s life to it.”

Wu Qingchuan murmured, chewing over the words: “…If it benefits the state and the people, give one’s life to it.”

His eyes reddened: “Yu Qingwu, what are you striving for?”

“My brother taught me this saying—my brother died in the succession struggle.”

“The former Crown Prince and Duan Boyan taught me this saying—they also died in succession struggles.”

“Now, I’m unwilling to die—what’s wrong with that?”

He struck the ground and cried out: “What’s wrong with that!”

Yu Qingwu didn’t answer him again, only turned and walked toward the prison exit.

Wu Qingchuan watched him walk farther and farther away. In this lifetime, they would never acknowledge each other again. Suddenly, he struggled up and ran toward the prison door, only to be tripped by his chains and fall to the ground. He raised his head with difficulty and shouted: “Qingwu—that girl, Shanjun…”

Yu Qingwu’s steps paused. He turned back to look at him.

Wu Qingchuan, remembering how good Duan Boyan had been to him, cried: “Back then, I went to Shuzhou also for Duan Boyan’s sake. I later stayed at Duancang Mountain because I heard the character ‘Duan’ used to be written as ‘Duan’—that’s why I stayed.”

“I was truly sincere once.”

Yu Qingwu: “Alright.”

Wu Qingchuan murmured: “Tell her—tell her… I, I…”

“I once was glad when old friends came to Huaishan.”

On the eighteenth day of the eighth month in the fiftieth year of Yuanshao, Wu Qingchuan died of illness in prison.