An He Zhuan: Act Thirteen – Chapter 1
Last autumn I grieved here, and this autumn I returned.
…
“Heaven opened up to create Chengdu, where thousands of households enter a painted scroll. Trees, clouds, and mountains form a brocade – can anywhere in Qin compare to this?” Su Changhe declared, arms folded across his chest as he strolled the streets taking in the surroundings. “This was written by your favorite poet-immortal, describing this Brocade City. Now that you’ve entered this city yourself, what are your thoughts?”
Su Muyu rode his horse beside him, shaking his head. “I visited this Brocade City many years ago.”
“Oh? What brought you here?” Su Changhe asked, puzzled.
Su Muyu shook his head with a bitter smile. “Back then, as an Umbrella Ghost of the Dark River, what else could it have been for?”
“I see.” Su Changhe glanced to the side, noticing a teahouse filled with square tables, each occupied by a person. They held bamboo tiles, occasionally picking one up and playing with loud clacks. Su Changhe approached curiously, watching for a while. “What game is this? Su Muyu, do you understand it?”
Su Muyu followed him in. “This is mahjong. It’s very popular in Brocade City. Drinking tea while playing mahjong, or pulling up chairs to gather for a Dragon Gate Formation – this is the life of Brocade City’s people.”
“What’s a Dragon Gate Formation?” Su Changhe frowned. “Is it some powerful tactical formation?”
“Well… you’re not entirely wrong. The way they arrange their chairs in a circle does resemble General Xue’s formation when he surrounded the Tatars in the previous dynasty,” Su Muyu nodded.
“But Brocade City has been peaceful for years, with the Tang Clan inside and Mount Qingcheng protecting from outside. Why would the citizens need battle formations?” Su Changhe asked, confused.
“It’s just called that because the setup looks similar. In reality, they just sit together to discuss…” Su Muyu considered carefully, “recent trivial matters around them.”
“Ah, so they’re just gathering to chat and boast,” Su Changhe waved dismissively. “Hey, Su Muyu, why am I the one asking all the questions today while you explain? Haven’t our roles suddenly reversed? Weren’t you the one usually clueless about daily life?”
Su Muyu remained calm, replying: “Because I lived in Brocade City for three whole months back then to kill that person, so I’m quite familiar with this city.”
“Who did you need to kill that required such long preparation?” The two communicated through mental transmission – though they discussed murder, nearby people heard nothing, remaining absorbed in their mahjong game.
Su Muyu replied: “Liu Yilong, the Sword King of the Southwest.”
“Ah, that hypocrite,” Su Changhe shrugged.
“Hu!” The middle-aged man sitting in front of Su Changhe suddenly slammed a tile down on the table.
The other three players leaned in to examine the tile, their expressions turning peculiar.
“Does ‘hu’ mean winning?” Su Changhe asked curiously.
“Of course, it’s winning! One hundred and twenty-eight points!” The middle-aged man stood up, his large belly pressing against the table as he beamed, “Pay up, pay up.”
The other three dejectedly threw down their silver while the middle-aged man collected it with a grin.
“Another round?” Su Changhe asked softly.
“Who are you to keep talking to me?” The middle-aged man frowned impatiently as he turned around, only to see that smirking face.
Su Changhe stroked his mustache. “Master Mu?”
“Ha ma bi!” The middle-aged man blurted out with a shudder.
“I don’t understand, but did he just insult me?” Su Changhe turned to Su Muyu.
The middle-aged man followed Su Changhe’s gaze and exclaimed again: “Ha ma bi!”
“This is Brocade City dialect, meaning ‘hello,'” Su Muyu bowed slightly, tone friendly. “Ha ma bi.”
“Oh?” Su Changhe patted Master Mu’s shoulder meaningfully. “Is that so?”
In the teahouse’s inner chamber, decorated elegantly with an amber incense burner burning purple incense, the middle-aged man sat in a purple sandalwood official’s chair, pouring tea for his two guests. “Why didn’t the Great Elder and Su Family Head notify me of your visit?”
“Back when my brother stayed here for three months, were you the one hosting him?” Su Changhe asked.
The middle-aged man laughed awkwardly. “Yes, yes.”
“So that ‘ha ma bi’ greeting you taught him…” Su Changhe continued.
Master Mu scratched his head. “I was just joking with the Su Family Head, didn’t expect him to take it seriously… Afterward, I felt too embarrassed to explain.”
Su Muyu’s face darkened. “No wonder Liu Yilong was so enraged when crossing swords with me.”
“Hahaha! Who told you to be such a polite assassin? Greeting people before killing them. When you killed Liu Yilong, that ‘ha ma bi’ probably made him too angry to even hold his sword properly.” Su Changhe found it increasingly amusing, slapping his leg as he couldn’t contain his laughter.
“That’s enough,” Su Muyu said calmly.
“Alright, I’ll stop laughing.” Su Changhe’s expression changed instantly, all humor vanishing as he looked seriously at the middle-aged man. “Master Mu.”
Master Mu was startled: “Great Elder, I’m here!”
“You mentioned earlier that we arrived without notification?” Su Changhe narrowed his eyes.
Master Mu’s eyes darted around as he hurriedly knelt in respect: “I misspoke! What status do the Great Elder and Su Family Head hold? You can come as you please – how could you need to notify someone like me? I spoke out of turn!”
“No. What I mean is…” Su Changhe frowned, “I should have sent people to notify you long ago, and they should be waiting here for us.”
“Who are they?” Master Mu frowned.
“One is Mu Xuewei,” Su Changhe said slowly.
Master Mu froze. “Poison Flower?”
“The other, though you’ve never met him since you’ve been stationed in Brocade City, is now your family head – Mu Qingyang.” Su Changhe stared intently at Master Mu. “You haven’t seen them?”
Master Mu raised his right hand: “I swear, I haven’t seen them! How could I miss the Mu Family Head visiting my small teahouse?”
Su Changhe turned to look at Su Muyu. Su Muyu whispered: “This doesn’t bode well.”
“You could say it’s extremely troubling,” Su Changhe leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. “Really… ha ma bi!”