Chapter 51: Old Dreams "I want to be buried on the highest mountain in the world."...

When Xie Ju was five years old, he could not chop wood yet. He could only help his parents carry a few pieces of firewood from Yanming Mountain to his home. From time to time, he would also help wealthy families run errands and deliver messages.

The first time Xie Ju met that man was when he was about to go to Beijing to take up his post.

Young Xie Ju delivered the letter to a high-class house in Nanxiang and exchanged it for a few copper coins, which he used to buy candy figures at Ningtangfang.

As soon as he looked up, he saw two young men lying on their backs on the eaves of the sugar shop.

Song Lang was wearing a bamboo green robe with cloud patterns, and a jade belt that outlined his strong waist. Although he was lying down, it was not difficult to tell from his extraordinary height.

Xie Ju squatted under the low wall and sucked the sugar man.

Suddenly, I heard a young man ask gloomily, "Brother, you are going to the capital. When will you return home?"

Song Lang held a piece of weed in his mouth, resting his head on his arm. "I'm not sure when I'll be back, but... it shouldn't be too long. Min Yu, I'll have to leave my mother in your care."

"You don't need my advice, brother. Min Yu will protect Mother well. But brother, have you heard the slanders the people of Huai are saying about you? The city lord passed away long ago, and your uncle has been in charge of Huai City for nearly ten years. Now that you are seventeen, you possess both civil and military talents. The people of Huai hope that you will carry on your father's legacy and bring blessings to the people. Where is Yingdu? He has abandoned the ancestral land of the Huai people! As the city lord's only son, you should shoulder the responsibility of this city. It is inappropriate for you to serve in Yingdu, pay homage to the enemy king, and aid their prosperity."

At that time, Xie Ju still didn't understand what it meant. He walked out from the shadow of the low wall, holding the unmeltable sugar man in his hand and looking at the young man with weeds in his mouth, who was unrestrained and willful.

"Min Yu has grown up and can even teach his brother." Song Lang stood up, his half-tied black hair flowing in the wind as he stood on the eaves. "Carrying on my father's will? How could you all know that everything I do is also carrying on my father's will? Moreover, why does Min Yu regard Ying as an enemy?"

He gazed north, as if he were crossing Yanming Mountain to gaze down at the Dara tribe shrouded in dust and smoke. "Huaicheng was born in a crack, facing the Dara tribes to the north, Daqing to the east, and Yingdu to the west. If Qing were to attack Yingdu, Huaicheng would be the first to take it. The scars left by the falling star and plague a hundred years ago in Huaicheng are gradually healing. My father has opened up the fields and promoted trade, trading with merchants from various countries. Now that the dead land has seen spring again, all tribes and countries are eyeing Huaicheng covetously. The people of Huaicheng are mostly women and children, and people's livelihood is just beginning to improve. We have few soldiers and generals. What are you doing, Min Yu, closing the door and working hard? How can this city survive?"

"I, Song Lang, am worthy of Heaven, worthy of my father, and worthy of the people of Huai. How the world views me, how they slander me, is as nothing to me as passing clouds and smoke. My name is for future generations to write and to blame. I only need to maintain my integrity. I believe that there will always be one or two people in the future who can understand me. A hundred years from now, if anyone is willing to argue for me, I will thank them in my grave." The young man suddenly smiled. "Ying has not yet clearly banned Huai people from serving in the court. Besides, Min Yu, the salary of Ying officials is not low."

Xie Ju tilted his head and pointed at the man, "What is the salary?"

Song Lang replied: "So that you can have endless sugar figures to eat every day."

"What is an official?"

"Establish a mind for the world, establish a destiny for the people, carry on the lost knowledge of the ancient sages, and bring peace to the world for all eternity."

Little Xie Ju's eyes sparkled, "For the sake of endless sugar figurines, I want to be an official too!"

Wen Minyu suddenly leaped up, "Brother! Don't teach this kid a bad lesson! Being an official—how easy is that? Throughout history, who can guarantee that they can stick to their original intentions in the treacherous court? Anyway, it's definitely not something a greedy little kid can handle! Only those who plead for the people and show loyalty and trust can be called officials!"

Song Lang: "...Min Yu, my brother was also a candy lover when he was little."

“…”

After returning home, Xie Ju pestered his parents and the next day he was able to go to the private school with his school box on his back as he wished.

When he was eight years old, his parents saw that their son was obsessed with books and asked the teacher about Xie Ju's qualifications.

Xie Ju hid in the tree, waiting for the teacher's praise with great anticipation.

But he saw through the branches and leaves that his master said with embarrassment: "If you don't carve a rotten tree, it will remain a rotten tree."

Xie's mother gently tugged at her father's rolled-up sleeves, "Dad, how about Aju..."

The rain in Huaicheng was pounding down. Xie Ju was running down Huai Street when he ran head-on into a jade sedan chair pulled by four fine horses. The lantern in front of the sedan was dim, and the ceremonial bells at the four corners rang like broken jade in the wind.

"Young Master, he's just a little brat."

A hand with distinct muscles lifted the curtain of the carriage. The guards on both sides wore weapons on their waists. Seeing that the person in the sedan was about to get off, they hurriedly held up umbrellas to protect him.

The noble man is like a pine or a bamboo, standing in a dark robe in the rainy night, with an indelible cloud of sorrow between his brows.

Xie Ju had seen this person before. He was the carefree young man who was lying on the eaves with a weed in his mouth three years ago.

The young man of the past is no longer unrestrained, he almost melts into the night rain in a cool and clear way.

"Where is your home? Why are you rushing on this rainy night?"

Xie Ju said stubbornly: "I am homeless, I am an orphan."

The nobleman's silk umbrella was enough to protect him, but because he had fallen to the ground, his lower body was already soaked, and he sneezed and his stomach gurgled at the same time.

Song Lang glanced at Xie Ju's patched trouser leg. His mother, who had been threading and sewing for him, must have been traversing the rainy night in search of her child. Rubbing his fingertips between his eyebrows, he sighed, "Give him the birthday cake."

"Isn't the young master going to visit the lady?"

Song Lang sneered when he heard this, "Why? Didn't you hear the imperial edict just now?"

Xie Ju was so hungry that he picked up the birthday cake handed to him by the guard and took a deep sip. While swallowing, he took the opportunity to look at the person in front of him, but saw that the man had dark circles under his eyes and looked tired.

The nobleman's gaze stopped at the ground, and he said suddenly, "The handwriting is good."

Afterwards, he took the silk umbrella from the guard's hand, leaned over and placed the umbrella handle on Xie Ju's side, and said, "Fill your stomach and go home."

After saying this, Song Lang turned around and got into the sedan chair.

Xie Ju dropped the birthday cake and hurriedly grabbed the poetry theory that had fallen to the ground where he had fallen. He wailed, "What's the point of having good handwriting? My teacher compared me to rotten wood! If I don't carve it, I'll be even more rotten wood! I'm a poor material! My mother won't let me study anymore!"

"How can a mere essay on poetry be used to distinguish between different materials? Ultimately, it's simply because you two hold different opinions and viewpoints. It's like Bole selecting horses. If the master isn't your good sword, then he can't carve them."

The man had already entered the sedan chair, the wheels rolling. His calm voice pierced the rain and landed clearly in Xie Ju's ears. "However, what your master said is not entirely unreasonable. For example, stools, tables, and cabinets all need to be carved from wood. Without carving, even the best wood is just a piece of empty wood. Even jade needs to be carved before it can be made into a useful object. There are good woods and there are bad jades. The quality of the wood depends on how you wield the carving knife."

Xie Ju scratched his nose and asked, "What official position do you hold in Yingdu?"

A light laugh came from inside the sedan chair, "Just a straw dog."

It was a long time later that Xie Ju realized that this person was none other than Song Lang, the son of the city lord who was highly regarded. That day was his mother Wen's birthday, and it was also the first time he had returned home after three years away from home. However, just as Song Lang entered Huai City, an imperial edict from the Ying Palace arrived, saying that the Emperor of Ying was in critical condition and ordering the Prince's tutor to return to Ying immediately to support the Crown Prince Jiang Zhi to succeed to the throne.

When Song Lang resigned from the position of imperial tutor and returned home, Xie Ju was already eleven years old.

The people of Huai held a banquet outside the city just to welcome the young prince - the future ruler of the city.

Who would have thought that two months had passed and Song Lang still had not inherited his father's position.

When the first snow fell in Huai City, Song Lang finally succeeded to the position of city lord in accordance with the people's wishes. When everyone thought that Song Lang was about to protect the city and bless the people, he ordered the city gates to be opened to welcome the King of Qing's army into the city to pass through to attack Ying.

Long-simmering public anger erupted, and children often descended on Song Lang's villa, throwing eggs and vegetable leaves. Rumor had it that Song Lang had assumed the position of city lord precisely to welcome the Qing army into the city, and presumably resigned his position as imperial tutor to align himself with the corrupt practices of a neighboring nation! How was the Qing Emperor any different from Daying's young ruler, who had reigned for three years? He was just as incompetent and tyrannical!

Song Lang had once been the teacher of Emperor Ying, and now he was allying with Qing. Isn't that treason? Perhaps he had been secretly colluding with Daqing while he was the imperial teacher in Daying! How could such a beastly person be worthy of being the ruler of a city?

Xie Ju would often follow the group of trouble-making children to Song Lang's villa, Songheju, for no other reason than to pick up some barely usable vegetables and melon pulps.

The people's abuse of the new owner of the city has never stopped. However, except for the military advisor, the founding emperor of Dacheng, and a few thousand elite soldiers stationed in the city, the remaining 300,000 soldiers were all stationed twenty miles west of the city. The Qing army entered the city for nearly a month, but they never burned, killed or looted in the city. Occasionally, they even helped the old woman chop firewood and plow the fields... Therefore, apart from satisfying their desire to talk, everyone never rebelled.

In the same month, Xie Ju's parents went to Yanming Mountain to collect firewood and did not return for three days. Xie Ju went to Yanming Mountain alone to look for his parents, but was stopped by soldiers at the foot of the mountain.

Xie Ju knelt barefoot on the frosted blue bricks. The day was almost over when the door of Songheju was finally opened.

The young man who used to lean on the eaves with high spirits had long since lost his edges due to the severe frost, and there was no trace of wildness between his brows. Standing in front of Xie Ju was the thin lord of a city with a sickly pale face, and beside him stood Huanzhen, who was about to become the founding emperor and would also be Xie Ju's future monarch.

Song Lang glanced at Huanzhen coldly and asked, "Why didn't anyone tell him to kneel outside the house?"

He had a glaring red mole between his eyebrows. He had a feminine look, but his eyes held a thousand sharp blades. He teased the snow fox in his arms and said jokingly, "Ah Lang, are you blaming me? Or are you trying to make things difficult for me? You slept all day, never waking up to ask if anyone was kneeling outside the door. Ah Lang was sleeping so soundly, how could I tell you?"

When Xie Ju found his parents in Yanming Mountain, the couple were already dead.

The fatal wounds on the coroner Chen Yan and the other man were caused by weapons with arc blades and barbed hooks.

Xie Ju cried and said to Song Lang, "I really have become an orphan."

He used the same old trick, knelt down outside the house, and went into Songheju to become a little boy who made fire and started cooking.

One day, Xie Ju found a sum of silver coins wrapped in hemp paper under the rice jar at home. There was a line of words written crookedly on the paper - for Aju to use for studying.

The brown rice in the jar had been drenched by countless salty rains, and it began to mold and rot, just like him who lost his family at a young age and became increasingly corrupt.

He never slacked off in his calligraphy practice, and Xie Ju became even more diligent, sometimes even receiving some pointers from that person.

Xie Ju sincerely regarded him as his teacher, but he knew too well that he, a mediocre person with mediocre talent, was not worthy of being his student. Moreover, he was the teacher of only one person, the young emperor who sat high in the imperial court. How could Xie Ju compare to him?

In the first month of the new year, the wind blew snow into Huaicheng, and thin ice formed on the ground tiles. Tens of thousands of cavalrymen broke the tranquility of the city at night and shattered the ice in the Huaihe River.

The cavalry looted and slaughtered the people of Huai.

Huaicheng was in chaos, the voices rising higher and higher, with the people shouting in unison: "The Qing army is taking action! The Qing army is killing people! The city lord doesn't want us anymore! Song Lang is supplying food and wages to the Qing army while slaughtering us to reduce food and fodder expenses!"

The defenders fought with their lives, but the enemy's surprise attack without any warning still caused the people of Huaicheng to suffer.

The people of Huai wanted to eat Song Lang's flesh and blood.

The ground was covered with corpses, forming a bloody path. It was said that the city lord's biological mother also died in the riot that night.

Xie Ju saw clearly that the knife marks on Huai Min who died in the disaster were the same as those on the bodies of his parents.

Among the citizens of the city, only Xie Ju who lived in Songheju knew that it was not the Qing army that broke into the city of Huaicheng, but the Dara tribe north of Yanming Mountain. They raised the flag of the Qing army, pretended to be the Qing army, and suddenly attacked the city for abundant food and fodder.

The real Qing army fell into Dara's trap of luring the tiger away from the mountain. The Yanming Mountain where the battle was originally scheduled was empty. Only the Qing army was stationed waiting for battle, but no enemy appeared.

Xie Ju huddled under a pomegranate tree. Outside the main house knelt the city lord's brother. Although he covered his ears, the sound of the argument between Hao Zhen and Song Lang in the room still drilled into his inner ears word for word. At Wen Minyu's feet rolled a bloody head. The owner was none other than the Qing army general Zhan Ai.

The door suddenly opened wide, and Song Lang held a sword in one hand and cut the ropes that bound Wen Minyu one by one.

"Brother, if you kill me, Min Yu will have no complaints, but I still have to say this! They deserved to die! Mother didn't die in the riots at all! How could you not know this, brother? Mother... was forced to death by them, by your people! And yet, brother, you still protected them?!"

"Wen Minyu." Song Lang carefully wiped the blade of his sword with a snowy handkerchief. "How can you be sure that those killed and looted by Dara were all the same people who put my mother to death? Are you absolutely certain that the person who put my mother to death was not a spy sent by Dara to instigate us? Do you know that the nations are in turmoil, and the world is in turmoil? And because of your own selfish interests, you conspired with Dara and Qing General Zhan'ai, sabotaging this city's defenses and food supplies. If a neighboring country invades in the future, how will this city be saved?"

His tone was eerily calm, yet every word struck their hearts like icicles. "You helped Dara kill 120 people, injured 210, and looted 700 households. Do you acknowledge the death penalty?"

Wen Minyu didn't even frown, "I admit it."

Even when the sword pierced his chest, he still said that he had no regrets.

Song Lang could no longer hold his sword, his knuckles trembling uncontrollably. He held onto Wen Minyu's body, his entire body drained of strength as he knelt heavily on the ground. The warm blood flowing from his brother's chest burned his chest like fire. "With your style, it's impossible that you wouldn't have your own soldiers stationed at the city gates while the Huai Army is stationed here. I was unconscious while you were here, and even if this person was my brother, you wouldn't let anyone get even an inch near me. Really—are you planning this on purpose so you can legitimately eliminate Zhan Ai?"

If the Qing army was already outside, how could they not be aware of the Dara attack? The implication was that he was blaming him for feigning ignorance. Even so, the over a hundred casualties were far fewer than Huanzhen had anticipated. These days, Song Lang had been comatose due to illness, yet he was able to calmly deploy his troops when Dara invaded. Even with his mother's recent death and his brother's defection, Song Lang had already quelled the battle before his personal troops could enter the city to assist.

Sure enough, Song Lang was the person he was looking for.

Therefore, he patiently persuaded them: "Only through fighting can the people unite. Look, in just one night, the people have accused you and me of this, and they have become an army. Song Lang, you have protected them so well that they don't realize how weak they are. If they don't understand their own situation, how can they willingly submit to the country one day? These fools think that they can rest easy by staying at home and having nothing to worry about?"

"Do they know that Dara has coveted this city for a long time? Do they know that this city has been required to pay annual tribute since the new emperor ascended the throne three years ago? Do they know that for three years, you have been using your own salary and private property to support them? In fact, the reason you and I are working together is just to help them return home."

"Build a great nation for the people of Huai, with a strong army, so that they no longer have to wander and migrate, or be attacked from all sides or squeezed between the cracks."

Zhenzhen said this, picking up the blood-soaked sword that Song Lang had thrown on the ground. He stared at the bloodstains on the blade and suddenly smiled, "Or do you want to kill me? Just like I killed Zhan'ai and you killed Wen Minyu? Yes, I know that Wen Minyu took advantage of your unconsciousness to sneak into the inner room and steal the jade token, and I do know that he has 30,000 elite soldiers buried outside the city. Hiss, so what?"

"Forgive me for being blunt, but if you hadn't blindly trusted your kin, the people of this city wouldn't have suffered this. Your stubbornness stems from your inability to be cruel. Just like now, you wouldn't have killed me. Similarly, if I were you, I would have prioritized protecting the food and fodder from the Dala plundering, rather than just the elderly, the weak, the women, and the children. Only in this way can this city survive in the long term. If a neighboring country were to attack again, we would be able to better protect the people, rather than just temporarily. Ah Lang, you're still too impulsive."

Zhenzhen pointed at the sword tip and said, "You and I have the same goal. Dara killed 120 of your people. How about I raze Dara to the ground for you? As you and I agreed, we will join forces to kill Dara and then destroy Ying."

"As for Zhan'ai, he only serves the Daqing royal family and doesn't understand the current situation of the world. This royal family dog ​​is afraid of ruining my plan. Moreover, he is dissatisfied with our long-term conspiracy. However, I never plotted against him. It was his weak heart that conspired with your brother."

"Take your Qing army and get out of Huaicheng tonight. I have my own plan for Dara." Song Lang's brows were sharp, and the blood in his throat made his voice hoarse. "Jiang Zhishi must have believed that you stationed troops here to help me resist Dara. Huaicheng was built on the edge of Ying, so they will only think that you are crossing the Huai area and heading straight for Daying. In fact... of the 300,000 Qing troops stationed 20 miles west of the city, 200,000 have already bypassed Xiayang Pass and are preparing for a surprise attack?"

"The people of Xiayang have suffered under the tyranny for too long. If we adopt a policy of appeasement, we can not only reduce the casualties among our troops, but also counter Jiang Zhi's tyranny and win the hearts of the people. Xiayang is close to the Pushui River. If Xiayang is defeated, they will surely dispatch troops and generals from the Pushui River. The two Pushui generals are loyal to their country and will swear to die rather than surrender. If they die for their country, please bury them with respect and honor their integrity. If we collect food from the Ying people during the march, we must exchange it for money and silk. This is also the policy you promised me when we formed our alliance."

"Cangping Marquis Li Qingrang is pretending to be pursuing his wife, General Yun Wei, who escaped from marriage, with 5,000 elite soldiers. In reality, he's supporting Yun Wei in rehabilitating the Xiayang rebels. If you catch up, I hope you can lend a hand. Although Mei Lianjun is a woman, her military command and formation skills are no less than those of the veteran generals of the Ying Dynasty. She must be a virtuous person."

"Really, one last thing. I hope you will treat the people of Huai well."

Zhenzhen didn't answer directly, but said something else, "Song Lang, since you can't let go of Minsheng and your old friends, why don't you join me? Otherwise, I'll be waiting for you in Yingdu, if you're willing..."

Song Lang raised his eyes, "If you say anything nonsense again, I will kill you."

“…”

No one knew how Song Lang, a mere civil official, could massacre all of Dara within a month with only 10,000 soldiers.

Not long after, Song Lang cut his wrists, wrote an acknowledgment of his guilt in blood, and committed suicide under a pomegranate tree in his villa. Song Lang's biological mother was a gardener, and this tree was planted by his mother and his father Song Ling when he was born.

Xie Ju couldn't help but savor the so-called "people's hearts". Song Lang used his own life to appease the public anger. Huaicheng was leaderless, and various forces were eyeing it covetously. Moreover, the new emperor Chengdi promised that Huaicheng would not have to pay taxes for ten years. Since this was the case, Song Lang had already committed suicide. What else could the people of Huai do except to rely on the new dynasty?

Of all the Huai River residents, Xie Ju was the only one who collected and buried Song Lang's body. Yet, they took up hoes and dug up his grave, dismembering his still-warm remains and scattering them across the wilderness. Xie Ju wept as he collected them. What crime had he committed? Xie Ju often cried while defending Song Lang, and for this, the vegetable leaves and eggs that once pelted Songheju fell upon him. Now, he no longer had to stoop to pick them up himself.

Over the past hundred years, although the trunk of the durian tree has grown longer, the branches and leaves are no longer there.

Xie Ju's lifelong ambition was to be a historian, but he was ultimately a piece of useless wood.

At the age of a hundred, he had already wept tears until his clothes soaked. In his hazy state, he seemed to see the person walking towards him on a floating light. Xie Ju called out with difficulty, "Teacher..."

It's not like he hadn't called him that when he was a child, but that person always turned a deaf ear to him. After all, the only person worthy of being his student was the Emperor.

Xie Ju saw a little girl with tearful eyes standing in front of the bed, clutching the man's sleeve tightly.

His figure became clearer and clearer in Xie Ju's eyes, and Xie Ju called out "Teacher" again in a hoarse voice.

A faint light filtered through the clouds and filled the room. The man nodded in response, even though he was hundreds of years away.

…

Ever since Song Xieqing brought Zhu Hao home, the rain in Huaicheng has never stopped.

If she couldn't fall asleep, she would pull Song Xieqing's sleeve and say she wanted to go watch the fireworks.

At first, Song Xieqing was puzzled. Why would they be looking for fireworks in the rainy season? Could it be that Zhu really wanted to see the fireworks, so she indirectly taught him to use magic to show them to her?

The young lady sat under the eaves, her fingers rippled as she said, "Song Xieqing, please watch the water fireworks."

Occasionally, she would turn her head and ask him, "Does it look good?"

"Yeah." Song Xieqing responded stiffly at first, then peeked at her through the reflection of the stagnant water. Song Xieqing's eyes were soft and light, "Very beautiful."

The spring rain had been falling for several days, and at night, when the sound of rain had finally stopped disturbing us, the silence was broken by the sound of sorrow and joy.

There was a funeral in the Xie family, but it was a happy funeral. After all, a hundred years is a natural lifespan.

Zhu Hao didn't even have time to put on her shoes and socks. She was eager to run out of the inner room to see what was going on, but Song Xieqing pulled her back halfway with one hand. He put shoes and socks on Zhu Hao and then let her out of the room.

The white spirit flag just happened to fly to the door of the house, and the paper money fell along with the flying flowers in the yard.

"Song Xieqing."

He glanced sideways, "You say."

"When I die, I want to be buried on the highest mountain in the world."

He was visibly stunned for a moment, then teased, "How old are you? You're already planning something that will happen a hundred years from now?"

"Why do you need to coax me? I know my own body. Besides... I can still see wandering spirits and hear their words clearly."

"Song Xieqing." Zhu Hao stared at the paper money drifting in from outside her house. She suppressed her grief and spoke softly, "Elder Xie told me he wasn't afraid of dying, but he was afraid that if he were gone, no one in the world would remember your kindness. He said... well, now I know. He held on to his last breath just to tell more people about your kindness, but no one wanted to listen. Elder Xie waited for so long, and finally, he got me."

"If I die, who will remember your kindness for me and Elder Xie?" Her voice trembled. "I have so much to do. For example, I want to open clothing shops all over Dacheng, not just in Huaicheng. I want the young ladies of Dacheng to wear dresses I personally tailor. I want to become the female shopkeeper with the best embroidery skills in this city. I even want to try to teach everyone to recognize the real you, to clear your name and make you clean."

"But these things can't be accomplished overnight. I...coughed up blood again last night. Of course, I can't rush these things. There's only one thing..."

He held Zhu Hao's arm with his backhand and said in a deep voice, "Zhu Hao, please listen to me."

"Song Xieqing, please listen to me first, and then I will listen to you carefully."

The moonlight broke through the clouds, spreading across the garden. She staggered towards him, "Among the things I want to do, there's one about you. I can do it right now with just a word. I want to tell you because I'm afraid I'll die and you'll never know."

Zhu Hao looked up at him, "Song Xieqing... I'm only telling you, do you want to know?"

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The author said: "Establish a mind for heaven and earth, establish a destiny for the people, carry on the lost knowledge of the ancient sages, and bring peace to the world for all eternity." - Zhang Zai, Song Dynasty, "Hengqu Qulu"