Bai Jiu’s words were cold. One moment there had been a trace of warmth; the next, he was biting and severe. Xin Yi’s lashes trembled. “Then I suppose he died in the right place,” he said. “At least he has a place to rest.”
Bai Jiu did not answer. Instead, he rolled onto his side, propping his head up as he stared at the large porcelain vase in the corner of the couch. “That is his lot in life.”
Xin Yi quickly pulled his robes closed and murmured his agreement. The flush on his face had not yet faded. As he lay prone on the soft cushions, smiling quietly, a few stray locks of hair slid down to veil his bright, rounded eyes, yet they could not hide the innate innocence between his brows.
He was still young, and very green.
Bai Jiu shifted his long legs, turning his gaze back to him. “There is a banquet in the palace for the Duanyang Festival. The Emperor has called for you by name. Do you wish to go with me?”
Xin Yi only smiled. “I doubt I have a choice.”
“No one would dare bark if you did not go,” Bai Jiu said indifferently. “I am asking you.”
Xin Yi thought of his imperial grandfather’s face. The last time they had met was likely when he was invested as the Prince’s Heir, some eight or nine years ago. Aside from the twelve ornaments of the dragon robe he had glimpsed while kneeling, he remembered nothing else. What did the Emperor look like? Xin Yi did not care, but there was one thing he had to do. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “I want to go…”
Bai Jiu looked at the locks of hair before the boy’s eyes. His fingers twitched with an urge to move them. He had guessed most of what was on Xin Yi’s mind but chose not to pry. After a long silence, he suddenly asked, “How did you used to spend this festival at home?”
Xin Yi pulled the soft bolster back into his arms. “We spent it like any ordinary family.”
“And how does an ordinary family spend it?”
Xin Yi looked up at him. Seeing that his expression was normal, he began to reminisce. “Mother would lead us in hanging mugwort and burning angelica. Father would give my brothers realgar wine to drink. Since only Shangjin in Beiyang holds dragon boat races, Father didn’t care much for that. Every year, as soon as we woke up, Mother would gather us and Father together to wrap *jiaoshu*. My second brother was skillful; his were always beautiful. But Father—even after wrapping them for years, he was still clumsy.” He paused, his expression softening. “Perhaps he had learned long ago and simply wanted Mother to keep teaching him hand-in-hand.”
Bai Jiu listened, his fingers lightly tapping against his leg.
“My brothers’ sachets were all hand-embroidered by Mother. I was small, so I could only wear the five-colored threads. Once the *jiaoshu* were steamed, I would use the meat-filled ones to trade for my eldest brother’s sachet. I did that for years before I realized that everyone in the family except Father actually preferred the ones with honeyed dates.” Xin Yi’s tone grew lighter as he spoke. He rolled over, still clutching the bolster, his gaze drifting through the window lattice toward the darkening sky. “Once night fell, the lanterns in the manor would be lit one by one. We would sit under Mother’s favorite grape arbor to watch the stars and chat, each finding our own amusement. It was like that for Duanyang, for the Mid-Autumn Festival, and on ordinary days too.”
They were never apart.
Even when they reached the end of the road, his father and mother had never abandoned a single son.
“It was just that ordinary.” Xin Yi turned his eyes toward Bai Jiu and smiled. “It isn’t very interesting to hear about.”
“You are being quite immodest,” Bai Jiu said, narrowing his eyes as if recalling something. “I thought everyone just sat together in a civilized front, putting on a show.”
“That is the custom in the capital.” Xin Yi continued to smile. “I suppose your lordship has always spent it in the palace?”
Bai Jiu looked regretful. “Putting on a show.”
This time, Xin Yi truly laughed. Relaxing, he said, “It surely isn’t that bad.”
“Even if one is called a beast in human clothing, it is thanks to this skin. If not for that, I would likely be a ghost or a demon. Compared to that, putting on a show is a rather fitting description.” Bai Jiu pressed a finger to the bridge of his nose. “These days, rabid dogs rule the path. Even a human skin cannot hide the ferocity of the beasts surrounding us.”
“Your lordship… is not one of them,” Xin Yi said softly. “Though the rumors about you are unkind, you are a candid person.”
Bai Jiu laughed at that. He suddenly leaned down, his face hovering just above Xin Yi’s eyes, his gaze cold. “What a grand delusion.”
“It is not a delusion,” Xin Yi insisted. “At the very least, your lordship is no hypocrite.”
Bai Jiu looked at him for a long time—until the boy’s cheeks flushed, until he grew restless, until… Bai Jiu felt an itch in his own heart. His fingertips finally brushed the hair before Xin Yi’s eyes. He should have brushed it aside immediately, yet his fingers lingered, tracing the soft strands with meticulous care.
The atmosphere, which had finally settled, grew warm once more. This time, Xin Yi bolted upright. “Oh no.”
Bai Jiu withdrew his hand and sat up as well, his gaze questioning.
Under that gaze, Xin Yi hid his clenched fist beneath his nose and said slowly, “Did we… forget to eat?”
Bai Jiu gave a casual hum of affirmation. Avoiding Xin Yi’s expression, he stepped off the couch and called for Old Qu. He turned back and said, “You still need to apply the ointment after eating. Call someone to notify me after you have bathed.” With that, he walked out without looking back.
Xin Yi felt that Bai Jiu’s pace was even faster than it had been yesterday. Even when Old Qu brought the meal, Xin Yi’s ears were still burning. He reached up to touch them, unable to describe the feeling. Just as he was about to get up, his hand brushed against the unpolished jade Bai Jiu had left on the couch. He flipped it over to look.
His face flared up again instantly.
After bathing, he did not send for Bai Jiu. He applied the ointment haphazardly and tossed and turned in bed before finally falling into a messy sleep. He slept until the next day, waking with a slight headache, perhaps from overthinking. He had someone bring cold water and splashed his face before he felt somewhat refreshed.
Learning that Bai Jiu was not in the manor, Xin Yi finally left his room. The sky was grey today, looking as though it might rain, but a gentle breeze was blowing. It felt particularly comfortable standing beneath the trees.
“The Duanyang Festival is approaching. How did his lordship use to spend it in the manor?” Xin Yi reached up to catch a leaf falling on his head, twirling it between his fingers. “I hear the capital is very different from Beiyang.”
“His lordship does not celebrate festivals.” Old Qu stood with his hands behind his back, smiling at Xin Yi with a touch of sentimentality. “In the past, when he served in the Brocade Guard, he had no time. Now, even when the festivals arrive, his lordship likely doesn't even realize it. There are no female kin in the manor, and no one dares to remind him. His lordship has simply drifted through these past few years.”
“These past few years?”
Old Qu stroked his beard and merely smiled. “The wind is good today. It would be comfortable to go for a ride.”
Xin Yi stopped asking. He chatted with Old Qu about other things as they walked toward the stables. Perhaps because of the cool breeze, Chiye was exceptionally active. Seeing Xin Yi from afar, it reared its hooves restlessly, appearing impatient to leave the stall. Xin Yi let it out, and Chiye frolicked around the paddock before returning to his side, nudging him repeatedly with its head. Xin Yi chuckled and stroked it back.
Before long, someone bowed and whispered into Old Qu’s ear that an invitation had arrived. Old Qu glanced at the card and knew it wasn't for his lordship, but for Xin Yi.
Xin Yi took the invitation and looked at it. He smiled. “I do not know this Vice Grand Councilor, Lord He. Does Old Qu know him?”
“This Lord He is named Anchang, courtesy name Ruxu. People in the capital call him the ‘Pillar of the Pure Stream.’ He is a man of upright integrity. Though he does not serve in the Censorate, he holds imperial authority to supervise and investigate. He is the ‘Fair-faced Executioner’ whom corrupt officials fear most. Lord He came from the Hanlin Academy and is the prized disciple of the Left Prime Minister, Lord Zhang. He is a prominent figure in the capital.” Old Qu sighed. “He is a good man, but he follows Lord Zhang’s lead in everything. He has never shown a kind face to our master.”
Since he was a student of the Left Prime Minister, Zhang Taiyan, he belonged to the faction most at odds with Bai Jiu. Naturally, he would not be friendly toward him.
Xin Yi looked at the name ‘He Anchang’ repeatedly. He truly could not fathom what such an upright figure wanted with him. His only current value lay in the inheritance of the Beiyang Three Prefectures' military. What could a court official, who wasn't a lightning rod for controversy like Bai Jiu, have to say to him?
After weighing his options, Xin Yi tucked the invitation away. “Regardless, I shall go and see.”
He Anchang had not invited him to a private residence, but rather to the Buer Tea House, a place of refined elegance in the capital. This tea house was no ordinary place; it stood in direct opposition to the Xiaoxiao Building that Bai Jiu frequented. It was the favorite spot of the Left Prime Minister, Zhang Taiyan, for listening to stories and drinking tea. Xin Yi thought the choice of location was excellent—it showed that He Anchang had no intention of privately plotting for the Beiyang military, allowed Xin Yi to make his first appearance before the members of the Leftist faction, and could serve as a warning to Bai Jiu.
As for whether Bai Jiu would actually take it as a warning, Xin Yi could not guess. One could say Bai Jiu brought him to the capital and kept him safe for the sake of the Beiyang military, yet the man had never once mentioned those words to him. One could say it was for personal friendship, but before Posuo City, he had never had any dealings with Bai Jiu, nor had the Yan Prince’s Manor ever been connected to a man by that name.
The carriage stopped outside the Buer Tea House. Xin Yi lifted the curtain and stepped down. He saw a few other carriages nearby, all of them plain and ordinary. With a smile, he lifted his robes and stepped inside.
There were no clean officials in the capital. Brothers mixing in the same giant dye vat might maintain a simple exterior, but their hands were more or less stained with grey. In this regard, Bai Jiu was always true to his whims. Compared to a hypocrite, he didn't mind being a true scoundrel.
The moment he crossed the threshold, Xin Yi felt gazes from all sides. He looked around, his smile appearing very peaceful. Standing on the stairs to the second floor was a cold, elegant young man dressed in the simple robes of a scholar.
Xin Yi nodded with a smile and ascended the stairs. He Anchang did not waste time with pleasantries, leading the way. “This way, Heir Xin.”
Before they even reached the top, the rhythmic cadence of a storyteller could be heard. Xin Yi noted the name ‘Wang Zang.’ Wang Zang was a eunuch from the previous dynasty, the foremost powerful official who had led the dynasty into decline, a man cursed for eternity. To mention a man who had dominated the court in such a way while Bai Jiu was in power seemed pointedly intentional.
Upon reaching the second floor, the uniqueness of the Buer Tea House became apparent. The balcony was wide and open. When one sat in the center, there was a storyteller in front, striking his wood and speaking loudly, while behind a screen sat a refined beauty brewing tea with jade-like hands. Looking out from the balcony, one could see the orderly layers of the capital’s scenery. Most marvelous of all, the royal palace was within sight; the glazed tiles of the Hall of Supreme Harmony shimmered with a treasure-like light, adding to its majestic aura. With the cool breeze blowing, drinking tea here was a true delight.
The central seat was already occupied by an old man with snowy hair and bright, piercing eyes. With just one look, Xin Yi could guess who he was. It wasn't that Xin Yi had exceptional insight, but rather that this man possessed a transcendent aura. Only someone of that position and reputation could carry it.
The Left Prime Minister, Zhang Taiyan.
He Anchang said to Xin Yi, “Heir, please be seated.”
Xin Yi cupped his hands to him first, signaling for him to sit. Zhang Taiyan, who was rotating two thin-shelled walnuts in his hand, laughed at the sight. “Heir Xin, there is no need to be so polite with Ruxu. Just sit. Today, there are only the three of us here. Forget our titles; let us simply be tea companions.”
Xin Yi laughed, his expression a mix of innocence and approachability, as if he had discarded all formality and wariness. He took his seat. He Anchang sat as well, and a young attendant brought tea from behind the screen. Xin Yi took a small sip, his warm smile unchanging, though he truly could not taste anything.
Zhang Taiyan blew on his tea repeatedly, a deliberate display that he performed with the air of a great scholar. Xin Yi sighed inwardly, looking down with a smile at the tea leaves rising and falling in his cup, appearing for all the world like an innocent youth truly focused on the tea.
“The Heir has been in the capital for several days now.” Zhang Taiyan’s walnuts began to rotate again. He smiled. “It has been over a decade since this old man last visited Beiyang. The scenery of the Three Prefectures remains fresh in my mind, often returning to me. Back then, the Prince of Yan was in his prime, and he raised your eldest brother to be exceptionally steady. This old man once thought that with such a worthy descendant of the Prince, Beiyang would surely prosper for generations.” At this point, his gaze became increasingly affectionate, looking at Xin Yi as if he were his own grandson. “Your second brother was the junior I most hoped would enter the Censorate. I only regret that my position was low and my voice quiet back then; I could not take Young Master Jingbiao as my student. Thinking of it now still brings a pang to my heart. A pity, a true pity.”
The fingertip Xin Yi had resting on the side of his teacup trembled slightly. Beneath his lowered lids, a storm was raging.
Yes, back then.
Back then, who among the imperial princes could compete with the Yan Prince’s Manor? Back then, his father was the king who had stabilized the borders through three campaigns against the Dayuan. Back then, his eldest brother was a steady and talented military leader. Back then, his second brother was a brilliant scholar whose refined conversations moved the empire. Back then, his third brother was an unstoppable force in surprise attacks. So much of that past glory had turned to dust, now buried in his heart, too painful to reconstruct. All that admiration and veneration had not saved a single person in the Yan Prince’s Manor who shouldn't have died; it had only left behind the most useless, mute waste. And now, no one had the right to speak words of sentimental grief to him, for it was precisely that worldly veneration that had forged the countless blades in the Hall of Supreme Harmony—blades that had come from all directions to hunt them all down.
There was truly no need to pretend to miss the glory of the past. He only wanted to hold onto the ordinary memories of his family.
Zhang Taiyan took a sip of tea and was about to continue when, unexpectedly, the hot tea opposite him flipped over, drenching Xin Yi’s hand in scalding liquid. Xin Yi’s mouth fell open, and he looked up with a dazed, helpless expression that would make anyone’s heart soften.
“Heir, be careful.” He Anchang, sitting to the side, pulled a cotton handkerchief from his sleeve and quickly wiped the scalding tea from the back of Xin Yi’s hand, though he could not stop the red burn marks from becoming increasingly visible.
Xin Yi immediately waved his hands to show he was fine. He gave Zhang Taiyan an apologetic smile and then looked at He Anchang with great gratitude. His actions revealed nothing to He Anchang, but the smile on Zhang Taiyan’s face, who had remained seated opposite him, faded slightly.
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| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 端阳节 | Duanyang Festival | Another name for the Dragon Boat Festival. |
| 角黍 | Jiaoshu | An ancient name for Zongzi (sticky rice dumplings). |
| 参知政事 | Vice Grand Councilor | A high-ranking government position (Participant in Deliberations of State). |
| 贺安常 | He Anchang | A character name. |
| 如许 | Ruxu | He Anchang's courtesy name. |
| 清流朝柱 | Pillar of the Pure Stream | A title referring to his integrity and status in the "Pure Stream" faction. |
| 章太炎 | Zhang Taiyan | The Left Prime Minister. |
| 不贰茶楼 | Buer Tea House | A tea house favored by the scholar-official faction. |
| 笑笑楼 | Xiaoxiao Building | A place frequented by Bai Jiu. |
| 汪藏 | Wang Zang | A fictional or historical eunuch official mentioned as a cautionary tale. |
| 敬公子 | Young Master Jing | Referring to Xin Yi's second brother (Jingbiao). |
| 景表 | Jingbiao | The courtesy name of Xin Yi's second brother. |
