After Bi Jianian’s blow, Qiu Xinran closed herself in her official quarters for another three days of medical leave, as if she hadn’t been the one to divine that hexagram. Later, she heard from Yuan Zhou that the commotion at court that day had spread like wildfire even before dismissal—by now all of Chang’an knew about the hexagram she’d cast.
“Don’t blame Minister Bi,” Yuan Zhou consoled her that afternoon as they sat in the courtyard cracking walnuts together. “Minister Bi was one of General Xia’s former subordinates and received great kindness from General Xia. When you publicly pushed the Marquis’s heir toward the frontlines to his death before the full court, of course he’d jump up and strike you.”
Hearing this made the gauze-wrapped corner of Qiu Xinran’s forehead throb with phantom pain. She said in a small voice, “But that doesn’t justify using violence…”
Yuan Zhou glanced at her. “He’s always had a violent temper. Last time he got into such a fierce brawl with Minister Wang over military affairs right in court that no one could pull them apart—that’s when His Majesty demoted him, and he only recently got promoted again. After this latest incident, he’ll probably be going back down.”
Qiu Xinran sighed. “What are people saying outside recently?”
Yuan Zhou replied casually, “All sorts of things. Your reputation for divination precedes you, so quite a few people believe what you said is Heaven’s mandate. But there are many opponents in court—some say you’re taking private revenge, that if His Majesty truly listens to you, he’d be heeding slanderous counsel and wrongfully killing a loyal subject.”
“Who has such audacity?” Qiu Xinran was dumbstruck.
“Minister Bi.”
“…”
“However, when the Marquis’s heir heard about this yesterday, he voluntarily entered the palace to request the assignment, kneeling to petition for deployment. His Majesty ultimately approved, so an edict commanding him to lead troops to Luzhou should be issued any day now.” Yuan Zhou sighed. “Now everyone outside is praising the Marquis’s heir for his perfect loyalty and filial piety, saying the entire Xia family are loyal martyrs. I imagine the theater will soon produce a new play where you’re the scheming villain in white-face makeup flattering your superiors, and he’s the heroic, unyielding young military lead.”
“…”
Qiu Xinran looked at the half-cracked walnut in her hand, instantly losing her appetite. She brushed off the debris from her hands irritably. “So I’ve actually done him a favor—shouldn’t he thank me?”
Yuan Zhou looked at her as if she were simpleminded. After a while, he asked tentatively, “I heard the Marquis’s heir departs in three days. Will you go outside the city to see him off?” The girl who’d been slightly defiant a moment ago immediately wilted, her gaze evasive. “Ahem… my head aches terribly. I’m afraid I need to rest and recuperate.”
The day Xia Xiuyan left was a spring morning when the dew had not yet evaporated.
He stood on the city tower looking at the troops arrayed and waiting outside the city, remembering long, long ago when they were still in Luzhou, how Xia Hongying would take him to the military camp every time. From atop Luzhou’s city walls looking outward, one could see ten thousand li of plains. Back then, his father would ask him, “What does Yan’er want to do in the future?”
“Fight in battles,” he’d say, standing behind the city wall holding the man’s hand, looking up. “Drive those Diyue people back.” Whenever he said this, Xia Hongying would laugh. He’d bend down to hold him in his arms so he could see farther, and tell him, “Your father won’t let you have that opportunity.”
When he grew a bit older, Xia Hongying stopped asking such questions. He began to seem worried and preoccupied. When father and son rode back from outside the city, Xia Hongying would ask him, “Does Yan’er want to stay in Luzhou in the future or return to Chang’an?” It was dusk then, the frontier sunset half-hanging in the sky, and he could almost hear the sound of wind sweeping across the grass tips. The half-grown youth sat on his horse, withdrawing his gaze from the distance, thought for a moment and said, “Luzhou.”
The man paused, as if casually saying, “Your mother might wish for you to return to Chang’an.”
The youth kicked his horse’s belly and tossed out, “If you knew what Mother wanted, you wouldn’t be in this situation today.” Having said that, he left only his retreating figure as he galloped toward the city gate.
Later still, the day he left Luzhou, he sat in a carriage. The attending servant boy stood far away, watching father and son stand locked like adversaries inside and outside the carriage for a long while. Xia Hongying finally conceded defeat and had just begun, “After you return to Chang’an…”
“What ‘after’—either way it’s just taking one day at a time,” the youth in the carriage interrupted him coldly, as if in a fit of pique. Xia Hongying stiffened, then sighed. “Sometimes I think, if you weren’t the son of Mingyang and me, perhaps you’d be happier.” The youth in the carriage bristled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, staring at him incredulously. “You—” He was quite angry but couldn’t bring himself to say anything harsh. After a long moment, he dropped the carriage curtain and shouted to the distant servant, “We’re leaving!”
When the carriage started moving, Xia Hongying called out to him once more. The driver hastily stopped the carriage. Xia Xiuyan sat inside without moving. After a long while, he finally heard the man outside say, “Father will wait here for your return.” He never did hear a response from inside the carriage.
The carriage traveled across yellow sand and desert, plains and gorges, all the way to the flower-adorned Chang’an. Now he was finally going back? But the person who said he’d wait for his return had uncertain fate between life and death.
Xia Xiuyan thought to himself: that man had always broken his word, but if he could just keep his promise this once, all past grievances in his heart could be wiped clean.
“Marquis’s heir.”
As Xia Xiuyan descended from the city wall, he suddenly heard someone call out to him. Turning his head to see the Daoist-robed youth standing behind him, he was slightly startled. “Yuan the Assistant Administrator?”
“I heard the Marquis’s heir was leaving today and wanted to see you off.” As he spoke, he turned to look around, only then realizing he was the only one there, and immediately felt somewhat bewildered. Xia Xiuyan seemed to see through his thoughts. “The palace held a farewell banquet yesterday. Today’s departure from the capital isn’t meant to disturb others.”
“I see.” Yuan Zhou gave an awkward dry laugh. He didn’t normally deal with Xia Xiuyan, so naturally didn’t know about this. He’d originally assumed today’s scene would be like when Shi Meng left—then he could inconspicuously step forward from the crowd to say farewell. Now this was truly rather deliberate…
Xia Xiuyan glanced at him, noting the youth’s wooden hairpin, his snow-blue Daoist robe—very familiar, likely his sect’s uniform. He paused, then helped resolve the awkwardness. “The troops are outside. Since Yuan the Assistant Administrator has come, why not see me there?”
Yuan Zhou was startled, then quickly smiled. “Naturally.”
The two walked toward the city outskirts in silence. Yuan Zhou usually wasn’t tongue-tied, but now with just the two of them, he momentarily didn’t know what to say.
When they reached outside the city, Xia Xiuyan came to his senses and took his leave. “Thank you, Yuan the Assistant Administrator. You can see me off to here.”
Yuan Zhou clasped his hands. “May the Marquis’s heir be careful in all things on this journey, and may you return triumphant in all matters.”
“I accept your auspicious words.”
Yuan Zhou slowly added, “Before departure, I didn’t prepare anything, so let me give the Marquis’s heir a peace talisman.” He drew from his sleeve a yellow Daoist talisman folded into a triangle and handed it over. Xia Xiuyan accepted it and looked, then quirked his lips. “I have these peace talismans at my residence too.”
This was unexpected. Yuan Zhou asked curiously, “This is a talisman drawn by my sect. Where did the Marquis’s heir get one?”
“An old servant in the residence couldn’t sleep well at night for a time and received two as gifts from Qiu the Astronomer.”
Yuan Zhou hadn’t expected him to voluntarily mention Qiu Xinran. After a moment of surprise, he quickly said, “I see. Hearing the Marquis’s heir was leaving the capital today, my senior sect sister also wanted to come see you off, but the physician advised her to rest more before her injury heals, so she had to forgo it.”
“Is that so?” Xia Xiuyan said flatly, his face showing no expression. “How is Qiu the Astronomer’s injury?”
Hearing his tone didn’t seem resentful, Yuan Zhou quickly seized the opportunity to gain sympathy for Qiu Xinran. “It’s no longer serious, though the physician says it may leave a scar. Women value beauty—scarring is never a good thing…” He gave a few awkward laughs and stole a glance at the other’s expression. Seeing no reaction, he awkwardly trailed off. “Ahem… in any case, I hope the Marquis’s heir takes care on this journey.”
“Thank you, Yuan the Assistant Administrator.”
Xia Xiuyan returned the courtesy, then turned and walked toward the army outside the city.
Gao Yang sat mounted on his horse, having waited outside since early morning. Naturally he’d seen someone accompanying Xia Xiuyan out from the city gate. When Xia Xiuyan approached and mounted his horse, he asked, “Who was that?”
“Yuan Zhou from the Bureau of Astronomy.”
Gao Yang was startled. “Why did he come?”
“To see me off.”
Xia Xiuyan swung onto his horse. He still held the peace talisman he’d just received. Gao Yang naturally saw it too. After a long while, he couldn’t help asking, “Didn’t Qiu the Astronomer come with him?”
The man on horseback paused, then looked over. Gao Yang knew he’d misspoken and quickly said, “The Marquis’s heir mentioned before that Qiu the Astronomer already knows about your years of feigning to take medicine. If after we leave the capital she reveals this matter…”
Xia Xiuyan said coolly, “If I die on this Luzhou campaign, there’s no need for her to mention it. If I’m fortunate enough not to die, whether she speaks of it poses no threat to me.”
Gao Yang thought this made sense but still couldn’t help frowning. “But I truly can’t understand—what was her intention this time?”
Xia Xiuyan was silent for a long while before saying, “Whatever her intention, just focus on fighting the battle before us.”
Gao Yang wanted to speak but hesitated. “But anyone with eyes can see His Majesty is sending you to your death…”
Xia Xiuyan looked at him. “Even if it’s death, would you rather die in Chang’an or die in Luzhou?”
Gao Yang’s whole body shook. His gaze determined, he gritted his teeth. “Luzhou! If I can kill even one Diyue person, this life of mine will have been worth it!”
Xia Xiuyan lowered his eyes and gave a brief laugh. “Form ranks—we’re not going to die on this campaign!”
Gao Yang spurred his horse forward. Xia Xiuyan remained in place, the yellow peace talisman turning over and over between his fingernails as he pondered something.
After a while, he suddenly moved to unfold the talisman. The folding method was special, so he opened it slowly. After unfolding it, he turned the talisman paper over and discovered someone had written four small characters on the back: life opportunity lies south.
He was traveling west on this journey, yet the paper said life opportunity lay south?
Xia Xiuyan looked down, then refolded the talisman back to its original shape.
In the distance stretched endless wind and sand with no road home. The man on horseback finally tightened the reins and looked back once at the magnificent Chang’an city behind him, then turned his horse’s head and galloped westward. Behind him the morning sun rose, radiant light ten thousand beams strong, enveloping the youth’s westbound figure, piercing through the dust raised by swirling wind and sand.