212 BCE

Because of the First Emperor’s thunderous fury, everyone in Xianyang Palace carefully watched their words and actions with trepidation, observing their nose with their eyes and their heart with their nose, afraid of seeing, saying, or doing too much, lest they become collateral damage.

So when a figure flashed by, they all thought they must be seeing things. They just rubbed their eyes and didn’t look carefully again. No one noticed that someone had already leaped onto the eaves of Xianyang Palace’s main hall.

Though so many years had passed, the youth had become a young man, yet still looked barely of age. Initially, his body grew more slowly than others due to the Daoist arts he practiced. Later… it was probably because of that pill he tested for the First Emperor.

The young man relaxed his body, lying directly along the curve of the eaves on the rooftop. The sun-warmed tiles pressed through his clothes, soothing his somewhat weary back. The sun overhead shone on him without any obstruction. Because the sunlight was dazzling, he unconsciously closed his eyes. The warmth made laziness seep from his very bones. No wonder Chiwen loved this feeling of basking in the sun. The young man increasingly enjoyed spending time here, because this had now become his only place where he could rest without any guard.

“Hey, stinking brat, are you really going to Shangjun with your eldest prince as military supervisor? According to Yaoying, that place is so desolate even birds won’t shit there!” Chaofeng had long seen what happened in the palace these days. The eldest prince Fu Su submitted a memorial on behalf of his teacher Chunyu Yue, which provoked the First Emperor’s rage and got him sent to Shangjun to serve as military supervisor for General Meng Tian’s army.

Chaofeng didn’t care where that eldest prince went, but the problem was if the eldest prince went to Shangjun as military supervisor, the young man would follow along too. Chaofeng was unhappy, so unlike usual, it wasn’t chattering away. But when the young man truly didn’t volunteer to say anything, it couldn’t hold back and spoke up.

The young man nodded but didn’t speak. Being together with Chaofeng and the others was the most comfortable thing—he didn’t need to think about how to disguise his feelings or how to word things when telling them what happened.

Anyway, everything that happened in this palace couldn’t be hidden from them.

The young man’s thoughts were in turmoil. There were too many things that needed his arrangement, but he had no more time. The First Emperor probably meant well. The palace situation had been very chaotic lately. Sending the eldest prince to Shangjun as military supervisor appeared to be disdain on the surface but was actually mainly for protection. Shangjun was General Meng Tian’s garrison—no foolish villains would dare attack the eldest prince there. The young man had once thought that if he didn’t follow the eldest prince to Shangjun, perhaps he could do more. But conversely, without the eldest prince around, he would instead become a target. Fu Su would absolutely never allow him to stay in Xianyang alone.

Chaofeng could also sense the young man’s irritation. Though perched atop Xianyang Palace knowing everything, it couldn’t tell the young man every detail, nor could it guess the purposes behind everything people did.

Humans really were the most complex creatures. Each person’s desires were different, and they might change their decisions in the blink of an eye. Possessing short lives, yet wanting to accomplish earth-shaking great deeds.

Perhaps afraid he would fall asleep if he continued lying there, the young man struggled to sit up. Even though he was here during the day, no one would notice because very few people looked up at the sky. The young man quietly gazed at the peaceful and prosperous scene before him, sighing with feeling after a moment, “The scenery here is indeed beautiful. No wonder you like staying here.”

“Watching a city slowly grow, pavilions and towers slowly being built, population slowly increasing, city walls slowly expanding… it’s just like watching a child grow into a youth, then into a young adult…” Yaoying’s voice was deep and resonant. It didn’t use overly flowery language, but its simple, plain words made the young man almost see a fast-forwarding image—what they had seen over these many years since Xianyang Palace’s completion.

This shocking image made the young man forget to breathe. After a long while, he came back to himself and exhaled deeply. The scenery before him returned to tranquility. His eyesight, made extremely good through cultivating the Dao, easily saw merchants bargaining in the distant marketplaces, soldiers hurrying home, children playing… some households had already sent up wisps of cooking smoke—a scene of peace and prosperity.

The young man couldn’t help recalling his childhood dream—he had wanted to sit here viewing these magnificent mountains and rivers. Now he had easily achieved that, so… what next?

“Don’t you find this beautiful? Then protect this scenery.” A lazy voice came from above the young man’s head. Though Chiwen was fond of sleep, it wasn’t always in deep slumber. It woke occasionally. It rarely spoke, just couldn’t be bothered with those two fools Chaofeng and Yaoying.

“Yes.”

The young man didn’t say goodbye, because he knew that no matter where he went, Yaoying could see him. And he would eventually return here.

Watching the young man walk steadily away from them, farther and farther, Chaofeng finally couldn’t help muttering, “Boss Chiwen, just letting him go like that?” Chaofeng was still reluctant to let the young man go. If he left, truly no one would chat with them.

“All things wax and wane.” Chiwen lazily yawned. It had lived too long, so long it had witnessed all human joy, anger, sorrow, happiness, separation, and reunion, so it found it hard to muster interest in worldly events. “Coming and going, living and dying—these are ordinary matters. Why can’t you two see past this?”

Both Yaoying and Chaofeng fell into silence. The gradually setting sun gilded them with a layer of golden radiance. Like every past sunset, it was magnificent, yet still few people noticed.

206 BCE

Xianyang was breached by rebel armies. First Liu Bang established his three rules, then the Western Chu Hegemon led his army in. Chu forces plundered gold, silver, and treasures, killing wantonly. Xianyang, originally the world’s most prosperous capital, became filled with war smoke, with people living in misery.

Finally, when the Western Chu Hegemon left Xianyang, he burned Xianyang Palace to the ground.

The little beggar was fifteen this year. Before becoming a beggar, he too was a carefully raised young master from an aristocratic family. But the past was as illusory as a dream he’d had. He was now just a ragged little beggar.

The little beggar planned to continue searching the ruins for anything that could be sold—for example, gold particles melted by fire. Though they would contain impurities, they could still be exchanged for several days of full meals. Each day he could only search during the darkest time before dawn. During the day, that was other people’s territory.

But tonight when he reached the ruins, someone was already sitting there. The little beggar thought it was someone coming to steal his livelihood, but after observing that person for a long time, he discovered they just sat motionless, as if asleep.

The little beggar waited for a quarter hour, but couldn’t wait any longer because if he didn’t search now, daylight would soon come. So he steeled himself and moved forward a few steps. Finding the other person didn’t react, he grew bolder, treating them as non-existent, and searched as usual by moonlight through the broken walls and ruins for anything that could be sold. He was very focused—so focused that when a ghostly voice came, he didn’t react for quite a while to the fact that it was speaking to him.

“Do you know what place this is?” That person’s voice was hoarse. The clothes on their body were so dirty the original color couldn’t be seen. Their long hair was disheveled, their body covered in wounds—like a lonely ghost just crawled from a mass grave.

The little beggar wasn’t afraid of ghosts. In the past month, enough people had died in Xianyang City to build a new city wall. He looked left and right, finding no one else around, then sniffed and said, “I know. This was originally Xianyang Palace.” He identified the direction again before confirming, “This should be Xianyang Palace’s main hall…” His following words trailed off because he suddenly remembered—last year, his father had brought him to a palace banquet, planning to arrange a marriage for him with a family of equal standing…

“So… someone still knows…” That person grinned silently twice, then fell silent again.

The little beggar tilted his head and waited a while. Finding the other truly had no intention of conversing, he curled his lip and continued searching. His luck was good today. When the eastern sky began to pale slightly, he found two jade pieces with broken corners. Though not worth much, they could at least get him a quilt.

Hiding the jade pieces close to his body, the little beggar straightened up and stretched, pounding his lower back that ached from bending over. By now, the east had already begun turning red, meaning he needed to go home.

That strange person still sat motionless. When passing him, the little beggar couldn’t help turning back for a look.

The first ray of sunlight happened to fall on that person’s face. Though filthy and grimy, those eyes were so profound they seemed to carry millennia of unresolvable grief and sorrow, involuntarily arousing pity.

The little beggar suppressed his heartache and hurriedly turned to leave. Behind him came that person’s ghostly sigh.

“The bright heavens above shine upon the earth below. I journeyed west to the wilderness beyond. In the second month at its beginning, I endured cold and heat. My heart’s worry—its poison most bitter. Thinking of those comrades, tears fall like rain. How could I not long to return? But fear this suffering most!…”

The voice grew more distant until the final words were barely audible. The little beggar vaguely remembered this was a passage from the Book of Songs. As he pondered it, a thought flashed through his mind.

Huh? That person just now looked somewhat familiar…

But impossible—so many years had passed… and besides, wasn’t that person already dead?

The little beggar shook his head, touched the jade pieces in his bosom, and left humming a tune toward the sunrise.

Behind him, on the ruins of Xianyang Palace, some unburned black smoke still rose in the morning light. A lone figure sat there, just as in many years past.

Modern Day

The boss sat in the courtyard, holding the ancient lacquer box in a daze for a while, finally taking a soft cloth to carefully wipe away all the dust on the lacquer box. Afterward, he specially washed his hands before sitting back on the stone stool and slowly opening the lacquer box.

On golden-yellow soft satin lay a stone dragon head carved with ancient simplicity and grandeur.

The boss took a clean soft cloth and gently wiped away the non-existent dust on it.

“Yawn… Found a new place? Did you arrange the best position for me? I need to get sunshine!” A lazy voice sounded, still as carefree as it was over two thousand years ago.

“Found one. It’s just a bit small—don’t hold it against me. This area is the old city district, so there aren’t any tall buildings blocking the sunlight.” The boss smiled slightly. This devouring ridge beast was something he had painstakingly recovered over the long years. But he had only found Chiwen. The other two ridge beasts were gone. Perhaps they were taken away, perhaps burned in the fire…

He had never understood why Xianyang Palace caught fire, because with the devouring ridge beast there, Xianyang Palace couldn’t be destroyed by burning. The devouring ridge beast could swallow all things, including flames and lightning. Later, after finding Chiwen, he learned that in the year he left Xianyang, someone had removed Chiwen from the eaves of Xianyang Palace’s main hall.

As for who did it, Chiwen said it didn’t know—it was sleeping soundly!

“Small is fine. Sigh, actually I quite liked that place you took me to last time—what was it, the Hall of Supreme Harmony in the Forbidden City? Majestic!” Chiwen glanced at the newly renovated double-eaved hip roof beside it and sighed with disdain.

“If I placed you there, at least sixty thousand people would visit daily. The most was once one hundred forty thousand tourists in a single day. Are you sure you could stand it?” The boss smiled faintly.

Chiwen was completely stunned. One hundred forty thousand people?! Had it heard wrong? After a long while, it finally found its voice and said sheepishly, “Well… fine, I’ll stay here. Though small, it’s very quiet! Speaking of which, before I sleep, should I spit out some of the antiques stored in my belly for you?”

“Much obliged.” The boss nodded. This venerable ancestor truly wasn’t easy to wake, and its sleep schedule was extremely irregular. If it could be summoned at will, he wouldn’t have needed to hide so painstakingly during the wars several decades ago.

After sighing with emotion, the boss looked up at the setting sun on the horizon. He had watched this same scenery for many years without tiring of it. Though the shop’s double-eaved hip roof didn’t have the majestic magnificence of Xianyang Palace’s main hall back then, among the surrounding concrete and steel buildings, it still faintly carried some ethereal ancient flavor.

“Unfortunately, I still haven’t found Yaoying and Chaofeng.”

“Tch, without those two, I can sleep more soundly.”

Hearing this, the boss smiled.

Yes, perhaps Yaoying and Chaofeng were on some household’s eaves somewhere, still arguing.