Whether in ancient times or later generations, China always preferred to discuss matters at the dinner table. Two low tables were set up in the Zhuifeng Pavilion atop the mountain, laden with various delicacies from Chang’an—all kinds of roasted meats, as well as Yun family dishes specially ordered from the Cheng family restaurant. Black ceramic jars contained the Yun family’s high-proof liquor. Outside the pavilion, a burly man turned a roasting rack, grilling a whole sheep, filling the entire mountain with the pungent aroma of spices. Yun Ye intensely disliked this smell, but Dan Ying thoroughly enjoyed it.
Ever since the fleet from Lingnan returned to Chang’an, the price of spices had plummeted. Now even common folk could afford to buy some to season their meat. If a household didn’t emit the scent of spices, people assumed that family was struggling financially. As more people consumed spices, the prices seemed to rise again. Everyone waited for the Lingnan fleet’s next arrival to stockpile spices when prices dropped, lest they eat fish and meat at every meal without spices to accompany them, resulting in neighbors giving their household strange looks.
Fine cuisine was being ruined by spices—Yun Ye had always thought so. Dishes had a hundred flavors, but adding spices made everything taste the same. They smelled pleasant but were unpleasant to eat. At home, Xinyue had tried for two days to act like a wealthy person, but several young sisters-in-law wailed and refused to eat, leaving no choice but for the Yun family to return to the era of simple tea and plain meals.
Seeing the young Daoist priest standing before the pavilion, his whisk draped over his arm as he bowed in greeting, Yun Ye hadn’t yet spoken when Huang Gou behind him barked at the priest twice. A layer of dark, gloomy mist clouded the Daoist’s eyes, which then quickly dissipated. He smiled and said, “I have long heard of Marquis Yun’s great name, yet you and I have never had a proper conversation, resulting in today’s misunderstanding. It truly is fate playing tricks. So be it—since matters have come to this, I won’t say more. Since there’s still time today, please allow this poor Daoist to savor these delicacies I’ve never enjoyed before, so that in the years to come I won’t be without memories.”
“As long as you can resurrect those children, Yun Ye will personally cook one hundred dishes for you, let you taste all the flavors of the mortal world, and kowtow to you in apology.”
Handsome men were never good people—at least the ones Yun Ye had encountered were either perverts or deviants. Li Ke, still young, already had over ten concubines. Li Tai, a few months younger than him, had only one wife. Chengxin needn’t be mentioned. Gou Zi had taken a eunuch as his master and now had become strange and affected, actually knowing to ask Yun Ye for soap to bathe with—he used to scrub himself with sand in the river. Now the Daoist priest before him, if stripped of his robe, would be the very picture of a refined gentleman of these turbulent times, extremely deceptive.
Cheng Xuanying made no further defense but solemnly gestured for Yun Ye to be seated. Dan Ying sat beside Yun Ye, sniffed, and said to him, “The food is fine.”
He spoke loudly enough that Cheng Xuanying also heard and said with a bitter smile, “Marquis Yun may rest assured. Today’s dishes were all prepared by famous chefs from Chang’an that this poor Daoist commissioned. I trust they wouldn’t dare tamper with them.”
“I trust the cooks, but I don’t trust you. A person who can be cruel enough to throw innocent young children into the sea wouldn’t find poisoning someone surprising.”
“Marquis Yun, based merely on hearsay you assign me this crime—I’m afraid that’s hardly convincing.”
“Cheng Xuanying, don’t make me look down on you. The government’s intelligence reports all confirm you did this, and moreover, I have corroborating evidence. You wanted to use Dongyu’s child to sacrifice to the Sea Dragon King. Dongyu refused, shouting that you were an evil Daoist. As a result, his tongue was gone, and you were right there at the scene. Don’t tell me that incident was also false.”
Cheng Xuanying closed his eyes in pain, nodded and said, “That’s right. That man was called Dongyu? Didn’t I spare his child? Why does he still hate me so?”
“You left home as a child and don’t understand what family affection means. If someone treated my child that way, even if I had to ascend to heaven or descend to earth, I would tear them to pieces. Dongyu saw you in Chang’an. If he hadn’t spoken up and I hadn’t reviewed the government’s intelligence reports, I really wouldn’t have known your heart was so venomously cruel, Cheng Xuanying.”
Cheng Xuanying suddenly laughed, raised the wine bowl before him and said to Yun Ye, “Worldly affairs are complex—who can clearly distinguish right from wrong? Marquis Yun, let us drink to victory. When we’re full of food and wine, that will be the day to cut out my tongue and feed it to the dogs. You, for the sake of a singing girl, didn’t hesitate to reduce the Dou family to ashes in a single day. Now, for innocent young children, you want Cheng Xuanying’s tongue—this is already a light sentence. How can I not be satisfied?”
Yun Ye raised his wine bowl and toasted Cheng Xuanying from afar. After all, he was still someone who dared to take responsibility for his actions—showing him some respect wasn’t excessive.
The liquor was strong, a line of fire sliding from his throat all the way to his stomach. The slight chill brought by the mountain breeze instantly dissipated completely. The three people in the pavilion said nothing, eating a few bites of food before raising their wine bowls to toast each other. Anyone who didn’t know the reason and came here would surely think three old friends who hadn’t seen each other in many days were drinking heartily together.
Halfway through drinking, Cheng Xuanying retrieved his treasured sword from behind him, laid it across his lap, drew it partway out, lovingly ran his finger along the blade’s edge, and said to Yun Ye, “This sword is not merely decorative. In my youth, I practiced swordsmanship with my master. After fifteen years, I achieved some success. When I traveled the world with my sword, this blade also drank deeply of the hot blood from villains’ necks and severed the heads of shameless scoundrels. Marquis Yun, this sword has never dishonored my master’s teachings. Do you believe me or not?”
Yun Ye tossed aside the lamb chop in his hand, nodded sincerely and said, “I believe you, because I’ve discovered that aside from your fondness for throwing children into the sea, you can indeed serve as a model in all other respects. If you say this sword has been used for chivalrous deeds, that certainly won’t be wrong.”
Cheng Xuanying nodded in thanks to Yun Ye, then said, “The Daoist school has never had the custom of sacrificing living people. Not only would righteous men like Marquis Yun hunt down anyone discovered doing so, but even the Daoist school itself wouldn’t tolerate it. Purging traitors from our ranks is a common occurrence.”
Yun Ye scratched his head. He too found it strange how someone with a history of human sacrifice could become the Great Master Xihua. Initially, Yun Ye’s fury toward Yuan Tiangang stemmed from this, believing they were protecting a vicious murderer. Now it seemed there might be hidden circumstances? No, regardless of what hidden circumstances he had, the children were dead, and he was the cause. Even if he was mentally unstable at the time, he was still the killer. Moreover, children would still be thrown into the sea next year. Once a terrible habit formed, it would develop its own momentum, eventually reaching a state where he’d feel uncomfortable if he didn’t throw children into the sea every year. Stopping him then would be difficult. Demanding Cheng Xuanying’s tongue now wasn’t excessive.
Seeing the cold glint in Yun Ye’s eyes, Cheng Xuanying’s last hope shattered. He sighed, pulled out a delicate small knife from his bosom—gleaming coldly, looking extremely sharp. He pinched a bit of granulated sugar from the sugar bowl on the table, put it in his mouth, and savored it with enjoyment for a moment. After finishing the sugar, he said to Yun Ye, “When I first cut myself off from the five flavors, I made a small discovery—the tip of the tongue is most sensitive to sweet tastes. So I compensate the first dead child with sweetness. No matter what, this is my sin.” Saying this, he picked up the knife and carefully cut off the tip of his tongue, placed it on a plate, and despite blood dripping steadily from his mouth, took up a brush and wrote on paper: “I compensate the second dead child with saltiness.” After letting Yun Ye read it, he again picked up the knife and carefully cut off the edge of his tongue, placing it on a second plate.
He spat out a large mouthful of fresh blood, dipped in the blood and wrote a third sentence: “I compensate the third dead child with sourness.” He set down the paper and cut off the back portion of his tongue, placing it on a third plate.
Yun Ye watched Cheng Xuanying’s actions with cold eyes, not even blinking. If he thought this little bit of gore could frighten him away, that was too naive. Dan Ying beside him cared even less. Having heard new knowledge, he diligently dipped chopsticks in various seasonings and put them on his tongue, testing whether Cheng Xuanying’s words were actually correct.
Swaying and about to collapse, Cheng Xuanying struggled to stick out what remained of his tongue, swung the knife and severed it. Yun Ye saw very clearly—he cut very thoroughly, much shorter than Dongyu’s tongue.
At this moment, Cheng Xuanying was like a Japanese person—even after disembowelment, he still maintained his dignity, trying his best not to let his hand tremble at all. The characters showed not the slightest disorder, reading: “I compensate the fourth dead child with bitterness. Marquis Yun, are you satisfied?”
Yun Ye nodded, picked up half a lamb leg from the table and stuffed it to the earth dog that had been waiting behind him for delicacies. Watching the earth dog contentedly gnaw the lamb leg, he clapped his hands and said, “You’re a real man. I won’t feed your tongue to the dog—let that lamb leg substitute. This matter ends here. Some things aren’t convenient to discuss here. Have Yuan Tiangang come find me at my home, and I’ll tell him exactly what’s going on. Your tongue was well lost. If you hadn’t come today, I would have been smiling as I waited for the turning point of the Daoist school’s decline to arrive.”
Cheng Xuanying spat out another mouthful of blood, grabbed a handful of prepared plant ash and stuffed it in his mouth to stop the bleeding. Though his face twisted and contorted in pain, he still tried to smile. After two unsuccessful attempts, he had to give up and made a gesture of seeing his guest out. This bastard maintained proper etiquette from beginning to end.
Just as they left the pavilion, they heard Cheng Xuanying banging his head against a pillar in pain. Yun Ye said to Dan Ying beside him, who had just tasted some bitter herb and now had his face twitching from the bitterness, “Can’t you learn from him? So polite—his tongue is gone but his manners remain intact. Stop climbing over my family’s wall. I know you like Daya, and I haven’t stopped you, have I? Can’t you just come and go through the front gate? You have to make perfectly fine business look like an affair.”
Dan Ying couldn’t speak. Opening his mouth just made him drool. He only tugged on Yun Ye’s sleeve, gesturing for him to look ahead. On the open ground below the pavilion sat eight old Daoists, each with a sword on their back, looking at Yun Ye with unfriendly eyes. Yuan Tiangang, sitting on the side, spoke up: “Marquis Yun, Cheng Xuanying has done everything you demanded. If you don’t have a concrete explanation, stay on Yushan today. We won’t ask for much—you just compensate Cheng Xuanying with one of your tongues.”
“Old Yuan, are you certain you want my tongue and don’t want to know what the Buddhist school is doing? Let me tell you, five days ago the monk Yulin came to my home and already knows my secret. Right now he’s probably making countermeasures. You’re already four days late. Are you certain you want the tongue and don’t want to know the secret?”
Yuan Tiangang’s hair nearly stood on end. Yun Ye’s nonchalant expression, combined with the yellow dog behind him constantly licking its chops, completely drove him into a rage.