Chapter 38: A Sudden Downpour
Rumors and gossip quietly spread throughout Bianjing City surrounding the newly minted "Bat," yet were precisely controlled by an invisible hand, remaining in a delicate state just before boiling over. Lei Sun was quite capable; under his manipulation, the unsubstantiated connection between Yuan Suiyun and the "Bat" lingered in teahouses and taverns, enough to make those with ulterior motives uneasy, yet not enough to unleash a monstrous storm that would instantly destroy the reputation of Wuzheng Manor, accumulated over three hundred years.
However, the conclusive evidence only exists in rumors. Even the truth about the "bat" is only based on the words of others. More powerful forces will not pay attention, but it is enough to keep Yuan Dongyuan awake at night and tossing and turning.
Xie Huailing waited for several days, but nothing else happened in the building. After the last commotion, Su Mengzhen didn't seem to have made any plans for her; aside from showing concern for her new injury, he hadn't come to see her. She calmly waited for the rumors to spread widely enough. Liufenbantang believed everything was under control, choosing when to throw the boulder at Jinfeng Xiyu Tower. The surface of the water, turbulent beneath the surface, should be suddenly and unexpectedly churned into a giant wave. Why not let it boil over more dramatically than slowly boiling a frog?
When the red marks on her neck finally faded and she could remove her veil, the time was just right.
This was her second visit to the former East Garden.
The Wuzheng Manor in Bianjing deliberately maintains a simple and secluded atmosphere, incongruous with the city's prosperity, a tradition passed down from their ancestors. In contrast, the gatekeeper recognized the young lady from the Jinfeng Xiyu Tower and greeted her with exceptional speed and attentiveness, presumably after the East Garden had already made arrangements.
This time, Xie Huailing was led directly to his study. The study was small, but the furnishings were elegant, and the scholarly atmosphere far outweighed the rough and tumble of the martial arts world, which was enough to show that Yuan Dongyuan had been living in seclusion for a long time. The bookshelves against the wall were neatly stacked with classic books, and a large rosewood desk occupied the center, on which lay an unfinished calligraphy scroll. The ink and brushstrokes lacked elegance, and faintly revealed a sense of sluggishness and restlessness. The calligraphy, like the man himself, depicted Yuan Dongyuan's state of mind at this moment.
Yuan Dongyuan sat at his desk, still looking very kind, with a friendly smile on his face, every wrinkle appearing warm. However, due to exertion, his smile became a mask on his face, revealing a weariness and worry several times stronger than when they last met, even his deliberately straightened back showing signs of weakness and hunching.
In just a few days, this elderly man, who was already in his twilight years, did something wrong and became afraid of ghosts knocking on his door, and his energy and spirit withered away.
But he couldn't show it. Yuan Dongyuan personally brewed a cup of hot tea for Xie Huailing and said, "Miss Xie, you've arrived. Please have some tea first. Since we last met, I've been wondering when you would come to discuss books again. You've finally come."
Xie Huailing accepted the teacup with both hands, displaying the humility and politeness of a junior, and replied, "Thank you for your concern, Master Yuan. I have been studying 'The Wandering Chronicle' repeatedly in the building these past few days, and there are indeed many things I don't understand. I am also angered by the rumors in Bianjing. After thinking it over, I still have to come and bother you, Master Yuan."
At this point, she seemed to casually change the subject, her expression showing a hint of mockery and bewilderment at the state of affairs: "These past few days, Bianjing City has been quite unsettled. I don't often go out, but when I do, I always hear idle people in the city making up sensational rumors and gossip, defaming people's reputations and disturbing their peace."
Xie Huailing looked at Yuan Dongyuan with clear eyes, like a mirror reflecting his true nature. Yuan Dongyuan subconsciously looked away, then realized his mistake and turned back to meet her gaze. She said, "Especially those who dragged Wuzheng Manor and Young Master Yuan into it, it's utterly absurd. When I heard it, I felt that those storytellers would dare to spew out any filth for a few copper coins, it's despicable."
Yuan Dongyuan's hand holding the teacup paused slightly, the tea ripples spreading across his face. An undisguised panic overwhelmed him, which he masked with a forced air of composure: "The world of martial arts is always turbulent, filled with rumors and gossip. The innocent remain innocent, the guilty remain guilty. Wuzheng Manor has stood for three hundred years, relying on the virtue of our ancestors. We act uprightly and sit honestly; why fear these demons' idle chatter? A righteous person naturally has nothing to fear."
He wouldn't even believe what he said, but that was exactly what Xie Huailing wanted to hear.
He tried to defend himself and cover up the misdeeds of Wuzheng Manor, but at this point, his reputation and his filth became one, and everything was like an arrow shot from a bow, with no turning back.
She seemed completely oblivious to his pretense, and, following his words, revealed an innocent agreement: "Master's insight is profound; I was merely ignorant."
Xie Huailing naturally steered the conversation back to "The Wandering Chronicles," her fingertip tapping on the withered yellow cover, which made Yuan Dongyuan breathe a sigh of relief, allowing her to resume her lively discussion of poetry and prose: "Let's talk about this book again. I've been reading it these past few days, and what I'm most confused about is the protagonist. I still don't quite understand the scenes after his first wife's death."
Yuan Dongyuan assumed she truly had no doubts about Wuzheng Manor and replied, "Tell me, which chapters are they?"
"It's the three acts after his wife's death. He seemed to have lost his soul, wavering between the illusion of fame and fortune gained through crooked means and the vows he made in his youth. He was hesitant and indecisive, which I really couldn't understand," Xie Huailing said.
"Thinking about what happened next, I realized that he was not a strong-willed person. He was far from being good, yet he was also bad because he kept thinking about the past, his deceased wife's expectations, and his parents' teachings. This limbo, this black and white, dragged him into an even deeper quagmire, ultimately leading to his utter ruin. So I wondered, why was he so reluctant to let go in the first place, and why was he caught in such a dilemma?"
Yuan Dongyuan sighed deeply and said, "Miss Xie is still young and inexperienced in the ways of the world. She doesn't know what people want, and it's all very complicated. If she completely abandons her past vows, it would be tantamount to erasing her deceased wife's expectations of her and denying her parents' painstaking upbringing. How could she accept that? But how easy is it to completely give up her official career? In the play, she sang about ten years of hard study, studying diligently and painstakingly, putting in her heart and soul, and seeing that she was only one step away from passing the imperial examination. Her resentment was indescribable."
Xie Huailing shook her head, seemingly disagreeing. Yuan Dongyuan hadn't convinced the girl in front of her; instead, he made her frown: "I don't think so... Shouldn't all that hard work and study be considered part of the accumulation for fulfilling the vow, unrelated to fame and fortune? To distort the efforts made for wealth and fame is putting the cart before the horse. What he can't let go of is the desire that arose in his heart from the very beginning."
"What I don't understand is this: not only is he unwilling to make a choice, but he also confuses his vows with his desires. He tries to balance both, but in doing so, he tramples on other things. In the end, it's because he wasn't firm in the first place."
She was still rambling on, her mannerisms and tone learned from Zhu Qiqi, but Yuan Dongyuan was lost in thought and couldn't hear anything. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over him again, as if they were talking not only about the characters in the book, but also about him, and that the predicament of the book's pages was the karmic obstacle of his entire life. This realization filled him with waves of revulsion and helplessness.
He wanted to end the conversation, but Xie Huailing didn't give him the chance. She continued, "If it were me, I would definitely make a choice. A vow is always more important than anything else. I might as well give up fame and fortune completely. The world is so vast, where can't we practice what we believe in? Even as a commoner, I can still speak out for the people. Rather than getting deeper and deeper into the quagmire of trying to please everyone, wavering in my heart, and making one mistake after another, it's better to just leave like this. It doesn't matter if I have regrets."
She said, "'I lament the brevity of my life, and entrust my lingering voice to the mournful wind.' All living beings will have regrets, as long as we don't leave the biggest regret."
Yuan Dongyuan fell silent.
The flowers outside the window have faded, leaving only a withered tree, its branches bare and its petals nowhere to be seen. Even the few rays of sunlight cannot revive the nearly dead tree. When winter comes, and then next year, not even a god could save it. Yuan Dongyuan sat sipping tea by the tree's shadow, wanting to pour himself some, but ultimately didn't pick up the teapot amidst the dappled sunlight.
He spoke somewhat hoarsely, scrutinizing Xie Huailing carefully. Xie Huailing left him no openings, so he could only look her over again and again: "Miss Xie, do you think the scholar in the book should choose his old vow?"
Xie Huailing nodded: "Actually, I think that if he chooses, this is the only choice he can make."
Yuan Dongyuan forced a smile and asked her, "Oh?"
Xie Huailing explained, “My cousin often tells me that when a person makes a decision, he often represents more than just himself. Since the scholar carries the hopes of his wife and the expectations of his parents, and was raised by his relatives and the people who accompanied him through his twenties, how could he not consider them when making his choices? He who has benefited from the kindness of the masses can never forget their kindness, so how could he let them down?”
"But in the end, it's just a play," Xie Huailing added. "The fact that it can make people think so deeply shows how captivating traditional opera is."
Yuan Dongyuan echoed twice. However, there was something stuck in his throat, and after a couple of times, he couldn't laugh anymore. The rest of his voice was blocked, and he stood there pale. Soon, perhaps his paleness couldn't be suppressed, or perhaps he was shrewd enough not to want to talk to Xie Huailing anymore, he stood up and coughed.
Yuan Dongyuan clutched his chest with one hand, avoiding the table, and coughed several times. He covered his mouth and said, "I'm not feeling well today, so I'm afraid I can't talk with Miss Xie for long."
Xie Huailing offered him a few words of concern, then coldly observed his still-forming body. Yuan Dongyuan suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, a bone-chilling sensation as if he were being dissected from head to toe, splitting him in two, exposing his very core. He looked again, and the young woman was still sitting there gracefully. She bid him farewell: "Then I'll head back now. I'll visit again another day. Please take good care of yourself, Master Yuan."
Yuan Dongyuan didn't know what he was afraid of. He was probably overthinking it; she was just a girl who had just returned from beyond the Great Wall.
It would be impolite to decline a guest's request in advance, so he still escorted Xie Huailing to the gate of the Yuan residence. The vermilion wooden door creaked open, revealing the ordinary alleyway scene outside. Just as they were saying goodbye, an unusual commotion arose from afar, unlike the tranquility he usually experienced when living in the Yuan East Garden.
A wave of panic surged through him, his eyelids twitched uncontrollably, as if he were about to fall into an abyss, as if a fire was burning within him. Yuan Dongyuan tried to control himself and not pay attention to it; he didn't want to hear what was going on. Only a bad premonition lingered in his chest.
Xie Huailing's face displayed just the right amount of surprise and confusion. She asked the maid standing by the door, who also looked surprised and puzzled, "What's all the commotion outside?"
Like a chess piece being placed, the maid had been waiting. She delivered her prepared lines and pushed open the door that had sheltered her from the wind and rain:
“Miss, it’s about another street. There’s a girl whose eyes have been gouged out, and it looks like they’ve been sewn shut. She’s kneeling in the street, crying and shouting to everyone she meets that her whole family was killed by ‘Bat’ and ‘Bat Prince.’ She herself had her eyes gouged out by them, and she only got here because of the help of a benefactor. She’s heard that there are many chivalrous people in Bianjing, and she’s begging for a hero to avenge her family and get justice for her.”
Another maid chimed in, "Others ignored her and threw things at her; it was awful. Luckily, I heard that the girl encountered the ruthless chief constable's sedan chair. How often do people run into the chief constable? As soon as she heard it was him, she immediately knelt down and kowtowed several times, her head covered in blood. And because she couldn't see where the chief constable was, she kowtowed in every direction..."
Xie Huailing was extremely surprised and indignant. She said, "Such a thing is true! That 'Bat' is really outrageous. I wonder what the Ruthless Chief Constable thinks about this?"
She looked again at Yuan Dongyuan, the old man who had just barely maintained his composure and dignity. Now, however, his face was completely drained of color, as pale as paper. He swayed violently, gripping the doorframe tightly to steady himself. The sunlight and shadows divided him in two: one half, bathed in light, was filled with sorrow, as if grieving for the tragedy, yet trembling uncontrollably; the other half, hidden in the shadows, trembled incessantly, as if he had already found his way to death.
A sudden downpour flooded Bianjing city without warning.
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