Once, I Was a Legend | Chapter 26 | Echoes of the Past | Novela.app

"Ahem... cough..." Pei Shi'an sat in the warm pavilion, unable to stop a light cough as he held a bowl of ginger soup. He sat in the row on the left, while Wei Xiyang sat on the right, the two sides clearly demarcated. Seeing this, Wei Xiyang couldn't help but speak up. "You insisted on following that brat out there, and now look at you, coughing away." Pei Shi'an cleared his throat. "Weren't you worried as well?" *You only didn't go because you were tied up with business just now.* Pei Shi'an kept the thought to himself, though the understanding was mutual. The others present watched as the imposing Duke of the State choked for a moment before snapping irritably, "What do I have to be worried about? As for you, you were gone so long before coming back—didn't you get enough of the wind? Did you stay out there to keep cooling off?" The crowd felt a lump in their throats. The Duke of the State’s way of speaking... was truly infuriating. Decades had passed; it was a miracle the old Grand Secretary could still put up with him. Pei Shi'an understood the concern hidden in Wei Xiyang’s words and replied calmly, "I took a trip to the Star-Plucking Tower." The room went still. Wei Xiyang frowned. "What did you go there for?" For a long while, no one answered. In the silence, Pei Shi'an merely lowered his eyes in quiet contemplation. Just as the others thought he wouldn't respond, he suddenly spoke. "Wei Xiyang, do you truly believe he is that person's child?" There was no need to name who "he" and "that person" were. This question had been on everyone's minds for months, yet today, Pei Shi'an had asked it point-blank. Wei Xiyang remained silent. He felt it was so, yet he couldn't be certain. In truth, doubt still lingered in his heart. He replied with a face full of irritation, "If not, why else would you have been circling around him for so long?" Pei Shi'an held his cup and said nothing. At that moment, Song He, the Minister of Works, interjected, "This humble official believes he is." *Hmm?* Instantly, everyone’s gaze shifted toward him. Those seated here were all veterans of the old days who had worked together for years. Aside from the deceased former Minister of Justice, the heads of the Six Ministries were all present, even the retired Minister of Personnel. There was no need to hide their words. Minister Song glanced at Grandfather of the State Yin, who was shrinking into a corner and keeping quiet. He smiled and said, "Grandfather Yin likely feels the same way, does he not?" There was a hint of teasing in his voice. One by one, the others realized what he was referring to. Grandfather Yin remained silent for a long time before his face flushed red, and he squeezed out a retort: "What I think is none of your damn business!" They were all far too familiar with one another; there was no need for pretense. If they had been maintaining appearances before, they were now speaking their minds plainly—hatred was simply hatred. Minister Song didn't even stop to think before firing back, "Of course it's none of my business. Otherwise, to borrow Young Master Ye’s words: one day a hundred years from now, though I shall have become a mere grave, I would be quite happy to have entered the soil." The group fell into a collective silence. Grandfather Yin was so choked with rage he couldn't speak. *Are we never going to get past that joke?!* Seeing that the two were about to start bickering again, Wei Xiyang let out a shout that suppressed the tension, dispersing the smoke of conflict to return to the main topic. "Enough! What are you all arguing for? Let’s get to the business at hand!" Minister Song coughed and turned serious. "Between father and son, there is always some resemblance. Setting aside the fact that Ye Zhao’s face is the spitting image of Lord Shu, that folding fan in his hand—I dare say there isn't a second like it in the world. How could it just happen to fall into Ye Zhao’s hands? There must be a connection between them." The others listened without rebuttal, silently agreeing with his point. He continued, "Though Lord Shu was a paragon among men, peerless in his generation, and Ye Zhao is an incompetent, profligate fool... today, we saw Lord Shu’s shadow in him." "That move of his—the Grand Secretary and Old Qian saw it too. It was exactly the same as the one Lord Shu used back then." He looked at the two of them, his expression solemn. The Minister of Rites was unaware of this and asked in confusion, "It was...?" Just as he was about to ask what "move" it was, he saw Minister Song spit out a single word: "The waist." Fine. No more questions were needed; he understood. The Minister of Rites went silent. Back in the day, that had been a topic that made one's scalp tingle. But this didn't seem like something Ye Zhao could do. Wei Xiyang’s thick brows knitted tightly as he asked, cutting straight to the heart of the matter, "But even if they are father and son, one cannot learn such a move without a master, can they?" The scene fell silent once more. A good question! Minister Song’s mind actually went blank for a moment. But soon, he remembered something else. He said, "It is very likely that Lord Shu taught him. Today, when Ye Zhao fainted from a headache, didn't the imperial physician diagnose him with suspected Soul-Departure Syndrome? It is highly probable that he has forgotten the events of his childhood!" *What syndrome?* Wei Xiyang was baffled. Only after someone explained did he understand Song He’s meaning, and they even mentioned what Madam Ye had said. In the end, they all arrived at a common hypothesis: Ye Zhao must have had contact with Tian Shu before the age of six, but he had later lost those memories. As for the Ye couple who raised him—did they know the truth? Ultimately, they leaned toward the idea that Madam Ye surely knew the whole story, but as for Master Ye... that was uncertain. Pei Shi'an... he hadn't spoken for a long time. Watching them discuss with such fervor, he realized that although he had inadvertently started the topic... this wasn't what he had meant to express! Pei Shi'an sighed soundlessly and slowly paced to the window. Watching the snow fluttering in the air, his thoughts seemed to drift back to that year. "Shi'an." A figure in black ceremonial robes turned to call him, a faint smile softening the sharp lines of his face. The ground was covered in white frost, and he stood alone amidst the cold, possessing a grace that surpassed all others. Those two syllables rolled off his tongue with practiced ease, an indescribable smoothness and a light tone that settled deep in Pei Shi'an's heart. Countless times in his dreams at midnight, he heard him call his name like that. On that night outside the palace walls years ago, the sounds of slaughter were constant and the firelight reached the heavens. His own anxious zither music had wandered within the palace walls until it was caught by that man's ears. "Player of the zither, what is your name?" In the hazy moonlight, a black-clad figure stood upon the long stone steps, looking down as he asked. The light from the torches on either side of the steps reflected in his eyes—flickering, swaying, and dancing. The zither music stopped. His heart pounded violently in his chest. He heard himself answer, "...Pei An." The man curled his lips into a smile. "Are you willing to come up and play a piece for me, to celebrate tomorrow's victory together?" In a daze, as if bewitched, he had answered with a single word: "Yes." Step by step, he had climbed the long stairs of the Star-Plucking Tower to stand beside that man. He watched him command the winds and clouds, maneuvering with genius to seize an impossible victory. The sound of the zither echoed atop the tower all through the night. When dawn arrived, the battle was decided. Rain began to fall, extinguishing the fires that had raged through the city all night. The man picked up a red paper umbrella leaning against the door and slowly walked out of the hall. "Ten miles of red finery to grant Xize a grand burial; three feet of timely rain to celebrate Wei’s lasting peace." He laughed and turned back. "Pei An—'An' represents the peace of one person. I shall add another character for you: Pei Shi'an. May you bring peace to the world of Wei. What do you think?" Pei An, who back then was merely an unfavored son of a concubine, looked at that man as if in a dream. Before his mind could clear, his body had already moved, bowing respectfully with his head lowered. "Yes, my Lord." One bowed, one stood; one asked, one answered. From then on, there was a Pei Shi'an in this world, and Pei An was no more. ... When he returned to his senses, he saw the crowd of people kneeling outside the hall under the eaves. Remembering something, he walked to the door and whispered a few words to a small eunuch. A short while later, Ye Zhao was invited into the warm pavilion. "?" A confused and somewhat dazed Ye Zhao had just stepped through the door when the voices of the people gathered there abruptly stopped. They all turned to stare at him in unison. Ye Zhao’s body stiffened. *What... what’s going on?* Their gazes were fixed on him, yet no one spoke. Ye Zhao took the initiative to greet them. "Greetings, my Lords." "Cough, cough..." Suddenly, coughing broke out everywhere. The officials scattered, returning to their seats and sitting quietly. A question mark slowly formed over Ye Zhao’s head. *What is happening?* "Come sit here," Pei Shi'an said to him. "Pay them no mind." Ye Zhao steadied his emotions and walked over to sit beside Pei Shi'an. He saw the older man push a cup toward him. "It’s cold outside. Drink a bowl of ginger soup to ward off the chill. Be careful not to catch a cold." Uh... Ye Zhao sat still, staring at the ginger soup for two seconds. Then, a look of "earnest warmth" rose on his face as he pushed the cup back to Pei Shi'an. "I’m not cold at all; in fact, I’m quite hot! You were just out in the wind with me, so you should drink this ginger soup. You drink it... haha." Ye Zhao, who had been unable to stomach the stuff since childhood, was sincerely returning Pei Shi'an’s kindness, but... his true motive was perhaps a bit too obvious. Pei Shi'an asked him, "You really won't drink it?" Ye Zhao was firm in his refusal. "I won't." Very well. Perhaps sensing Ye Zhao’s resolve, Pei Shi'an did not press him further. The stove in the pavilion was burning brightly, making it very warm. After sitting for a while, Ye Zhao couldn't help but take off the thick cloak wrapped around him. The eyes of the other officials drifted toward Ye Zhao from time to time, their thoughts unknown. Finally, it was Song He, the Minister of Works, who acted first. He walked up to Ye Zhao with a benevolent smile. "Young Master Ye, hello there." Looking at the old man who seemed exceptionally kind and approachable, Ye Zhao was puzzled. "Um? You are...?" Minister Song immediately said with enthusiasm, "I am the Minister of Works, Song He. If Young Master Ye doesn't mind, you can just call me Big Brother Song!" "Pfft—" Grandfather of the State Yin, who was drinking tea, sprayed it out directly, choking and coughing. *Big Brother? He’s old enough to be your father and then some.* *This attempt to cozy up is far too thick-skinned!* Minister Song didn't care about the others' reactions; he focused solely on Ye Zhao. "Little friend, don't mind him. He just has bad luck—he can even choke on tea!" Uh... Ye Zhao stole a glance at the man behind Minister Song and paused for a moment. He quickly recovered and returned the gesture of respect. "Minister Song thinks too highly of Ye Zhao. How could I address you so?" "You must, you must! Given the relationship between your father and us, calling me 'Brother' is much more intimate!" he replied subconsciously. The others felt their teeth ache at the sycophancy, but they knew who he was referring to. Ye Zhao didn't quite understand; he thought the man meant his father, Ye Yuan, and let out a small, surprised "Ah?" *Was his father’s relationship with this Minister Song really that good?* Why hadn't his father ever mentioned it? Then again, his father rarely spoke to him about court affairs because Ye Zhao never cared to listen. Thus, Ye Zhao naturally misunderstood. After a moment's consideration, he called out warmly, "Uncle Song." "Aye~" Minister Song’s response was incredibly exuberant, as if he were drunk on fine wine. *Yikes—* The others looked at Song He with slight disdain, but they couldn't help but think: *How is Lord Shu’s son so easy to fool?* And so, where there was one, there were many. The officials all took turns introducing themselves to Ye Zhao. By the time they were done, Ye Zhao was deeply confused. *When did my father get so well-acquainted with all these big shots?* Of course, Minister Qian of the Revenue Department was the exception. Ye Zhao had heard his father mention his direct superior more than once—a total skinflint and a miser! "?" Perhaps because the expression Ye Zhao gave him was too subtle, Minister Qian felt something and looked back in confusion. *** Glossary Table: Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation --- | --- | --- 离魂症 | Soul-Departure Syndrome | A traditional Chinese medical/supernatural term often used in fiction to describe amnesia or a state where the soul is detached from the body. 工部尚书 | Minister of Works | One of the heads of the Six Ministries in imperial China. 宋和 | Song He | The Minister of Works. 殷国丈 | Grandfather of the State Yin | "Guozhang" is a title for the father of the Empress. 钱尚书 | Minister Qian | The Minister of Revenue (户部尚书). 十里红妆 | Ten miles of red finery | Traditionally refers to a massive wedding dowry; here used metaphorically in a poetic couplet. 西泽 | Xize | Likely a rival state or a specific location mentioned in the poem. 裴安 | Pei An | Pei Shi'an's original name before it was changed.