Chapter 94 New Year's Letter
Pei Ji's eyes became distant, as if he had penetrated time and saw a long, long time ago: "This body, this identity, are not mine."
He said this earth-shattering sentence calmly, without avoiding his father's suddenly wide eyes.
"When I first came into this world, I was like a rootless duckweed, lost in thought, not knowing where I was or where my heart was." His voice was soft, as if he were recounting a distant dream. "I coldly observed everything around me, including your and Mother's love."
Chang Ningbo's body shook violently, and he staggered and held on to the table beside him to barely stand. He stared at Pei Ji's face, his lips trembling, but he couldn't say a word.
"But over the years, I've received the guidance of my teachers, the support of my best friends, the life-and-death camaraderie of my comrades... and," the bright figure of Luo Zhaohan appeared in his eyes, "I met the person I want to spend my life with. This world, everything that this body carries, has long become my inseparable roots."
He straightened his back, his eyes as bright as torches. "From now on, there will be no barriers. I am Pei Ji, and Pei Ji is me! I will use these hands and this life to protect everything I cherish. I will walk my own path and bear my own responsibilities!"
The last words were very powerful.
With a dull thud, Chang Ningbo could no longer hold on and slid down the edge of the table to sit on the ground.
He was like a child who had been lost for many years and finally found a way out, sobbing in his throat.
He raised his trembling hand and pointed at Pei Ji who was kneeling in front of him:
"My Ji'er... my biological Ji'er... where on earth did he go?!"
Pei Ji knelt in silence.
The light outside the window shifted slightly, and a slanting beam of light fell on Pei Ji's profile, reflecting the redness of his forehead and his calm eyes. He did not answer immediately.
The silence continued, as if to freeze the air.
Chang Ningbo's crying gradually weakened and turned into intermittent sobs. He raised his tear-stained face and looked at his silent son with despair and a hint of hope.
Finally, Pei Ji slowly raised his head.
He didn't look at his father, but instead looked at the sky outside the window.
Dusk began to quietly permeate the sky, dyeing the edges of the clouds gray-blue.
His voice was soft and gentle, yet it sounded like the deepest sigh:
"I don't know where he went. But I sincerely pray that he... can see a peaceful and prosperous era."
"Peaceful...prosperous times..." Earl Changning murmured these four words.
Pei Ji was still kneeling straight, watching his father curled up on the ground. His crying was like a blunt knife, cutting his heart again and again.
He closed his eyes, his Adam's apple rolled with difficulty, and when he opened them again, there was bottomless guilt in his eyes.
"Father," his voice was hoarser than before, with a hint of fatigue, "I'm sorry. For my deception, for my existence."
Chang Ningbo's crying suddenly stopped, as if his neck was strangled.
He raised his head with difficulty, his eyes staring straight at Pei Ji.
"No...no..." Uncle Chang Ning's voice was broken, and every word sounded like it was being rubbed against sandpaper. "Dad is sorry for you...I'm sorry..."
Who was he apologizing for? For his missing biological son? Or for the love he had always felt for the soul that had occupied his son's body?
Or is it because of my incompetence that day, and my weakness at this moment?
Maybe both.
This "sorry" that came too long ago is full of a father's helplessness and remorse.
Pei Ji's heart felt like it was being rubbed hard, and it felt very sore and swollen.
He crawled two steps on his knees, approached his father, stretched out his hands, and firmly supported Chang Ningbo's violently trembling shoulders.
"It's all over, father." Pei Ji's voice was low and powerful, with a power that could calm people's hearts. "From now on, I am your son. Pei Ji."
He held Chang Ningbo's arm, used some strength to support the old man, and slowly stood up.
Lord Changning's legs went weak, and he leaned almost all his weight on Pei Ji's arms.
He raised his heavy eyelids and looked at Pei Ji again.
"Okay... okay..." Chang Ningbo's throat made an incoherent response, and tears welled up again. He grasped his son's hand, as if it was the only driftwood he could rely on in the stormy sea.
The study fell into another silence.
The father and son leaned on each other, with only Chang Ningbo's intermittent sobbing and the sound of the wind rising outside the window.
I don’t know how long it took, but the last ray of sunlight outside the window completely disappeared.
The night fell quietly, and a cold crescent moon was hanging on the eaves at some point, casting silver light that seeped through the window paper and dimly seeped into the study.
Chang Ningbo's chest, which had been heaving violently, finally calmed down a little.
He raised his other hand, but instead of wiping the tears from his face, he gently patted the back of Pei Ji's hand with cautious force.
"It's getting late. It's time for dinner. Your mother must be getting impatient." He paused, his eyes fixed on the red and swollen spot on Pei Ji's forehead, his voice becoming even more hoarse, "Go apply some facial mask first."
Pei Ji tightened his grip on his father's hand slightly, nodded, and softened his voice: "Okay. Father, I'll help you over."
The father and son supported each other, their steps a little unsteady, and slowly walked towards the door of the study.
The moonlight flowed quietly on them like water, and also flowed into the study behind them, leaving a silence like frost all over the ground.
…
On New Year's Eve at Fuyuan General's Mansion, the sky was gloomy and the leaden clouds were hanging low, but they could not stop the New Year atmosphere from steaming up the mansion.
Red lanterns hung from the eaves, swaying gently in the slightly cold air.
The busiest place is in front of the main gate.
Luo Zhaohan was standing on a ladder, brushing the paste on the door frame.
Her movements were quick and her eyes focused.
His younger brother Luo Jince stood below, looking up with both hands holding a brand new red paper couplet sprinkled with gold.
"Sister! The left side can be higher, it's crooked!" Luo Jince shouted while standing on tiptoe.
Luo Zhaohan adjusted the position as he was told, and with a snap, he pasted the upper couplet firmly, and took the other half of the lower couplet from Luo Jince's hand.
She jumped off the ladder, took two steps back, and tilted her head to look at it: "Well, this is right."
The cold wind blew up the scattered dead leaves on the ground, making them swirl.
Luo Jince rubbed his red, frozen hands, blew a breath into his palms, and muttered softly, "In previous years, at this time, Brother Xie would have come earlier, so I wouldn't have had to climb the ladder. He would apply the paste quickly and evenly, and Sister Liu would watch from below, pointing out which side was crooked..."
Luo Zhaohan's hand holding the bowl of paste paused almost imperceptibly.
Yes, at this time of year in previous years, Xie Wuqi would always appear at the door of the general's mansion early, taking over these chores with his usual enthusiasm.
Liu Yueli stood quietly by, smiling gently, and occasionally pointing out "the left side is too high" or "the right side is too slanted."
At that time, there was always noise in front of the door.
This year, she and her brother were the only ones at the ladder.
In the cracks of the newly swept bluestone pavement in front of the door, there was still some thin snow that had not melted completely. It was so white that it was a bit dazzling, making the red couplet look particularly bright and deserted.
The bustling atmosphere that we were once accustomed to seemed to be blown away by the cold wind.
"Put up the horizontal banner!" Luo Jince didn't notice his sister's silence, and excitedly picked up the horizontal banner with "Everything is new" written on it and ran over.
Luo Zhaohan suppressed the slight ripple in his eyes and picked up the brush again: "Okay, hold the ladder steady."
As the brother and sister worked together to stick the banner on the door frame, their maid Chunxi trotted over, holding a letter in her hand. "Miss! A letter has arrived from the Wuwei General's Mansion. It's from Sister Qiuyue in Concubine Zhang's courtyard. It's a New Year's letter from Concubine Zhang to you!"
Luo Zhaohan's eyes lit up and a smile immediately broke out on his face.
She climbed down the ladder nimbly, handed the bowl of paste to Chunxi, washed her hands with cold water in the copper basin beside her, wiped her hands casually on her collar twice, and then took the letter.
The envelope was written on fine rouge-colored floral paper with a faint scent of plum blossoms. One could tell at a glance that it was the work of Aunt Zhang.
Luo Zhaohan walked to the sheltered area under the corridor, carefully opened the wax seal, and shook out the equally exquisite letter paper inside.
The handwriting on the letter is beautiful and neat, and every stroke reveals the writer's care.
She looked carefully, a warm smile on her lips.
The letter contained Aunt Zhang's usual gentle words. She first congratulated her on the New Year and then rambled on about the recent situation in the mansion:
Her daughter, Wu Yu, had learned a few new patterns from the embroiderer and had embroidered a small painting of the Three Friends of Winter. Although immature, it was also carefully crafted. Her son, Wu Chen, had received some praise from his teachers at the Imperial College and seemed to have found his way to school. Aunt Zhang's words were filled with a mother's joy and satisfaction. She also mentioned that the mansion had added several pots of daffodils, which were in full bloom and had a delicate fragrance...
These trivial household matters seemed particularly soothing to Luo Zhaohan.
She and Aunt Zhang, one is the daughter of a general, and the other is a cautious concubine in the general's mansion, with completely different identities and backgrounds.
However, through chance encounters and correspondence, we developed a wonderful sense of mutual understanding between the words we wrote.
Aunt Zhang's tenacity and gentleness made Luo Zhaohan truly regard her as a respectable and amiable elder, and a rare confidant and good friend.
Through the letter paper, she seemed to see Aunt Zhang sitting in the warm room, writing these words with a faint smile in the bright window light. She couldn't help but feel sincerely happy for her friend's stable and happy life.
Turning the page, Aunt Zhang's handwriting seemed a little more hurried at the end, as if she had suddenly remembered something and added hastily:
"There's another matter. After much reflection, I'm afraid it might disturb the young lady's New Year mood, but I also feel I shouldn't conceal it. On the 28th day of the twelfth lunar month, the eldest young master, Xie Wuqi, suddenly returned home with Liu Yueli. The general was furious and wanted to expel them immediately, but upon hearing the news, his wife begged him to leave. Furthermore, with the New Year approaching and the entire household assembled, the general couldn't bear to cause unrest and upheaval at this time.
The eldest young master knelt before the general, his words earnest and humble. The general tacitly allowed him to remain in the palace. Because of this incident, the general temporarily released his wife from house arrest. The palace decided to celebrate New Year's Eve together and have a reunion dinner. I watched from the sidelines. The eldest young master seemed much more restrained since his return, offering soft words and a humble demeanor to the general.
Liu is unusually obedient, silent and taciturn. The atmosphere in the mansion is quite strange. I feel uneasy inside, so I want to inform you, young lady, and hope you will understand and have a healthy New Year.
The smile on Luo Zhaohan's lips froze instantly.
Her eyes were fixed on the newly added lines of words, and her fingers tightened unconsciously.
"Oh……"
A sneer rolled out of Luo Zhaohan's throat without warning.
There was no warmth in the laughter, only sarcasm.
The cold wind in the corridor seemed even more biting, swirling around her feet with the unfinished red paper scraps.
"Sister?" Luo Jince, who had just finished pasting the banner and was about to descend the ladder, was startled by the sneer. He stared blankly at his sister's face, which had suddenly turned cold. "What's wrong? Did the letter say anything bad?"
Luo Zhaohan didn't answer his brother immediately.
She slowly raised her head, her eyes sharp as she looked over the high walls of the General's Mansion and towards the direction of the Wuwei General's Mansion.
"It's nothing serious. Young Master Xie got beaten up outside and finally remembered his last name was 'Xuan'. He went back to his father's house in disgrace, bearing the banner of being the son of General Wuwei."
"His reputation is in shambles, his future is ruined, and he has become a complete laughing stock in the powerful circles of the capital." Luo Zhaohan's fingertips lightly brushed across the three words "Xie Wuqi" on the letter paper, as if brushing across something dirty.
"The only thing he can weigh and sell for a bit is his status as General Xie's son, isn't it?"
Luo Jince seemed to understand, but seeing his sister's cold expression, he knew it was not a good thing. He only asked in a low voice: "So he came back to ask Uncle Xie to forgive him?"
"Forgive?" Luo Zhaohan's lips curved even deeper. "When has Xie Wuqi ever cared about others' forgiveness? What he cares about is the military power in General Xie's hands that still intimidates people, and the reputation of the Wuwei General's Mansion that hasn't completely collapsed. Why is he being so servile and subservient, speaking softly in front of General Xie? "
She paused and looked towards the direction of the imperial city, where the Prince Jin's Mansion was located.
The voice was lowered, but with a chill:
"He simply wants to climb back up to the high position of the King of Jin! If General Xie calms down and acknowledges him as his son, then Xie Wuqi will still be the heir to the Wuwei General's Mansion. With this identity, even if his reputation is tarnished, in the eyes of the King of Jin, he is more valuable than a stray dog and more worthy of being used!"
"Use?" Luo Jince frowned.
Luo Zhaohan did not explain to his brother the deeper infighting in the court.
She looked away, a hint of contempt in her eyes.
Oh, what an illusion of a prodigal son returning home and his family reunited!
How could this be a reunion dinner? It's clearly a Hongmen Banquet, where everyone has their own agenda and wants what they want!
The words in Aunt Zhang’s letter, “I always feel uneasy,” are so apt.
"Sister, are you angry?" Luo Jince looked at his sister's increasingly stern face and pulled her sleeve nervously.
Luo Zhaohan came back to his senses, lowered his head to meet his brother's eyes, and the frost on his face melted slightly.
She raised her hand, wanting to rub her brother's head out of habit, but when she saw that there were still traces of glue on her hand, she retracted her hand and just patted his shoulder lightly.
"No. It's foolish to get angry over people and things that are not worth it. Let's put up our Spring Festival couplets and celebrate our New Year."
"Chunxi," Luo Zhaohan handed the letter to the maid, "Put it away. I have received Aunt Zhang's kindness."
"Yes, Miss." Chunxi took the letter. She could feel the coldness coming from the young lady. She didn't dare to ask more questions and quickly put the letter away.
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