From that point on, the premier establishment of the Twelve Jade Towers in Ye Fang saw no more visitors.
The musician Yue Changsheng ceased his performances, and his fame gradually waned. Yet Ye Fang remained as bustling as ever; new faces replaced the old, and the world turned just as it always had.
At the Zhongli Estate, various letters arrived from Ye Fang from time to time, but they were all consigned to the flames.
In the winter of the twenty-fifth year of the Taoguang era, the Taihang Chasm—a faction under the Heng Lian banner—ambushed the Second Young Master of the Zhongli Estate on the North Mang Mountain highway. The assassination failed, and the attackers were slaughtered to a man.
All seventy-six participants were decapitated, their bodies cast into the Luo River to erase all traces. None survived.
That night, as a blizzard raged, the page boy Yue Chou arrived at the gates of the Zhongli Estate. He delivered an invitation from his master, requesting a meeting over a few drinks.
Such invitations were no longer a novelty. Without a second thought, the Eldest Young Master refused, as he always did.
Accustomed to this response, Yue Chou did not linger. He climbed back into his carriage and began the return journey.
Zhongli Zixu stared at the elegant, forceful brushwork of the invitation for a long time. Finally, he held a corner of the paper to a candle flame, watching as the fire greedily consumed the decorative stationery.
The letter had included several lines of trivial chatter, mentioning the plum blossoms along the riverbank and freshly brewed wine. It lacked the brevity of a typical invitation, as if the sender had anticipated the recipient would not come and chose to say his piece on paper instead.
This futile effort had persisted for an entire year.
As the embers crackled, a casement window was pushed open, letting in a few stray gusts of freezing wind.
"Eldest Master, Lord Night has made his move," a low male voice drifted into the darkened room along with the snow. The report was brief: "It is the Taihang Chasm’s 'One Day After Autumn.' Yue Changsheng will die tomorrow at the Hour of the Monkey."
Zhongli Zixu froze. He stood stunned for a long moment before bolting out the door in a panic.
That year, heavy snow blocked the roads for days on end. Birds and beasts vanished from sight; the sky and clouds lost their luster, and the mountains and waters merged into a single shade of white. Only the thin line of the long causeway remained, snapping at the center of the lake where a solitary pavilion floated amidst the vast, desolate wild.
Wrapped in a heavy fur-lined cloak, Yue Changsheng sat upright within the Zheye Pavilion, watching the snow. Yue Chou stood by his side, tending to a small clay stove. The fire was the only spark of crimson left in the world, its reflection dancing upon the frozen surface of the lake.
As the vintage brew atop the stove began to simmer, the melodious sound of a flute suddenly drifted from the shore. It was the tune of *Qing Ping Yue*.
*The guest cannot be stayed; drunk, he unties the orchid boat to depart.*
*One oar strokes the emerald waves of the spring water path, passing the places where morning orioles cry.*
*The willows at the ferry are lush and green; every branch and leaf carries the sorrow of parting.*
*Henceforth, send no more silken letters; the clouds and rain of the painted tower are without witness.*
The song ended, followed by a heavy silence.
The Eldest Young Master lowered his bamboo flute, his face deathly pale.
Ye Yin did not appear.
This melody was a secret signal he had arranged with Ye Yin. That Ye Yin did not respond meant the Second Young Master’s spies were nearby, and he could not show himself.
Seeing him again after a year, Yue Changsheng merely offered a polite, tranquil smile.
Inside the pavilion, two felt mats were laid out. Upon the wooden table sat two sets of utensils and wine cups. One set was clean and unused, clearly prepared for a guest.
Zixu’s heart stirred. "You were waiting for me?"
Yue Changsheng nodded.
"You knew I would come today?"
"I did not," Yue Changsheng replied. "But it has been thus every day."
Zixu was struck speechless.
Yue Changsheng did not dwell on the matter. He offered no interrogation or blame, nor did he engage in empty pleasantries. He simply invited Zixu to join him for a boat ride on the lake.
Several times, Zixu opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. Suppressing the heavy grief in his chest, he followed him onto the boat.
Yue Changsheng sat at the prow, dressed in white. His skin was like cold dew—translucent and flawless. He looked as though he might catch the wind and vanish, dissolving into the falling snow.
Zixu stared at him blankly. Such a celestial figure would be reduced to withered bones and yellow sand by tomorrow. His heart was a whirlwind of emotions, yet he found no place to begin.
"You are quite well-behaved today," Yue Changsheng remarked as the small boat drifted to the center of the lake. He withdrew his gaze from the ethereal mist and said calmly, "I suppose my life is nearing its end."
Zhongli Zixu gasped in shock.
"You may rest easy, Eldest Master," Yue Changsheng continued. "The lake is empty and offers no place to hide. No matter how miraculous an assassin’s skills may be, they have no way of knowing what you and I say today."
"You... you knew everything?"
"Hardly. I am but a common mortal; how could I be so prescient? But your acting is so poor that one could guess the truth with eighty or ninety percent certainty."
Zixu let out a long, sorrowful sigh and remained silent.
"You truly are the type who won't shed a tear until you see the coffin," Yue Changsheng stood up and pressed the gold-threaded hand warmer from his robes into Zixu's hands. "When I was alive and well and invited you, you refused to see me. You only know to seek me out when I am half-dead."
Zixu was momentarily at a loss for words. He murmured, "...I am sorry. Had I known it would come to this, I..."
Yue Changsheng asked leisurely, "Oh? You know how to regret now?"
Zixu lowered his head, nodding gloomily. "I shouldn't have used you as a shield. I shouldn't have involved you and caused you to lose your life."
"Wrong." Yue Changsheng shook his head. "Think again."
Zixu stared at him blankly, not understanding his meaning. He considered it carefully but still had no clue, eventually shaking his head again.
Yue Changsheng looked down at his reflection in the water and said bitterly, "I must die eventually. If you hadn't avoided me like the plague, I could have had at least one year of happiness."
Zixu felt a massive jolt in his heart.
He had spent years wandering through the world of pleasure. How could the word 'love' ever be weighed against a life?
"You are a secular man through and through; why force yourself to act as if you are above the world?" Yue Changsheng added. "If you find someone you fancy in the future, do not miss your chance as I did."
He sat serenely amidst the goose-feather snow, showing not a hint of the desolation of one facing death.
"I heard your *Qing Ping Yue* just now," he said. "Your flute playing is truly terrible. Why don't I teach you?"
The frost lasted through the night. As the sky began to brighten, Yue Changsheng escorted him back to the shore.
"Keep the umbrella and the cloak."
Zixu had come in a hurry, wearing only thin robes. He was already shivering, his skin turned purple from the cold, yet he still tried to decline.
"I am a dying man. What does it matter if I catch a cold?" Yue Changsheng brooked no argument as he draped the fur cloak over Zixu’s shoulders. He carefully tied the knot at Zixu's chest and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "The dead are gone; the living must strive to live. Who can say for certain which of us is more pitiful?"
Yue Changsheng pressed the umbrella into Zixu's palm, covering Zixu's freezing hands with his own. Warmth transferred through the contact of their skin. Zixu thought dazedly that such a tangible, true warmth could actually exist in this world.
"Go. Do not look back."
Yue Changsheng withdrew his hands. That sliver of warmth vanished instantly, turning to ice.
He turned and stepped into the boundless world, the wind and blizzard pressing down upon him.
The man behind him was left in place, growing more distant until he merged into the vast, hazy landscape.
They would never meet again.
"There is no need for guilt," he said. "If you truly never liked me from beginning to end, then that would be for the best."
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 韬光 | Taoguang | An era name (reign title). |
| 横联 | Heng Lian | A faction or organization. |
| 太行涧 | Taihang Chasm | A sub-group or location (literally Taihang Chasm/Gully). |
| 北茫山 | North Mang Mountain | A geographical location. |
| 洛水 | Luo River | A river name. |
| 月惆 | Yue Chou | Yue Changsheng's page boy/attendant. |
| 夜君 | Lord Night | Likely a title for a leader of secret guards or a specific contact. |
| 一日秋后 | One Day After Autumn | The name of a poison. |
| 申时 | Hour of the Monkey | The period from 3:00 PM to 5:00 PM. |
| 毳衣 | Fur-lined cloak | A garment made of fur or down. |
| 折叶亭 | Zheye Pavilion | Literally "Folded Leaf Pavilion." |
| 晏几道 | Yan Jidao | A famous Song Dynasty poet. |
| 绿蚁新酒 | Green ant wine | Poetic term for freshly brewed, unfiltered wine. |
| 锦书 | Silken letters | Poetic term for letters, often between lovers. |
