Chapter 103 [VIP]
"Young master, Lord Song Zhao wishes to see you!" Tengluo said.
Tengluo spotted Song Zhao waiting outside Fangze Palace and stole several glances at him. Song Zhao naturally wouldn't pay her any attention; he probably wouldn't even remember her name. Thinking this, she noticed that Lu Xuejin hadn't gotten up yet and couldn't help but feel a little worried.
The young master had been asleep for a whole day and night after returning from the Emperor's place the day before yesterday. He looked very pale, and she didn't know what had happened. She felt it was better not to ask.
It took several calls from Tengluo before Lu Xuejin finally woke up.
Perhaps due to the bumpy journey, he has been dreaming about the past lately.
The cold wind blowing by the window stirs up the winter sky. Winters in the north are long and cold. Even when the sun appears, it seems to be covered by thick clouds, unable to let out any light.
Song Zhao's figure was faintly visible through the light from the window.
His head was spinning, but he forced himself to stay awake and replied, "Tengluo, tell him to wait for me in the hall."
The conversation outside could be heard faintly.
"Lord Song, the young master hasn't gotten up yet. Please sit for a while, and I'll pour you some tea."
"...After returning the day before yesterday, the young master was unwell. If you hadn't come, he might still be asleep."
He tidied himself up before coming out of the room. Song Zhao was sitting by the desk, and he noticed that Song Zhao was still holding a book in his hand. The old book looked like an ancient book that had never seen the light of day in a library.
Why would he come to see him at this time? The only thing he could think of was that he was to be reinstated. Song Zhao must have already seen those documents, and if anyone least wanted him to be reinstated, it would be Song Zhao.
"Lord Song, what brings you here?" he asked.
Song Zhao noticed him, his gaze lingering on his eyes, and asked, "Are you sick?"
He subconsciously touched the skin beneath his eyelashes; perhaps it had a dark tinge, indicating that his complexion was definitely not good, and he himself felt that his physical condition was not quite normal.
"No, I just had insomnia the other night and didn't sleep well. You came here... just to check on me?"
Song Zhao frowned and said, "I came here regarding the matter of the classics. I have read all those documents from the other day... I did not present those documents to His Majesty. If you are reinstated, this matter will be detrimental to His Majesty."
"..." He was a beat slow to realize what was going on; Song Zhao had actually told him directly.
This left him speechless. His thoughts paused for a moment, and he said to Song Zhao, "I understand... It wouldn't have been so bad if Lord Song hadn't told me. The truth doesn't sound very appealing."
“Whether you like it or not is none of my concern,” Song Zhao said. “I came to find you because of these Hu tribe texts. When you left earlier, I found out about the Siming Society’s texts. Their Hu tribe’s script is too obscure and difficult to understand… I have only recently been able to decipher it.”
He couldn't help but ask, "Lord Song, you came here... just for this matter?"
The scholar had come specifically to explain the classics to him, and looking at Song Zhao's earnest expression, he couldn't help but feel a little dazed. It was as if he had returned to the time when they were in the Zhizhang Hall, where Song Zhao always followed behind him. They would bump into each other when they borrowed books, and he could often sense Song Zhao's gaze when he was reading.
Song Zhao: "This is a prophecy."
He noticed that Song Zhao was watching him. The snow-like desolation in Song Zhao's eyes transformed into a flurry of emotions, which were separated and scattered like snowflakes that flew away one by one.
Song Zhao: "...This is not something worth coming here for. It took me a long time to understand these words. I hope they can give you some inspiration."
After saying that, Song Zhao stood up, leaving only the booklet behind.
He watched the person leave. The book was old and yellowed, as if it had just been dug out of the ground. The Hu script on it looked like a string of scribbled symbols, and it was difficult to make out what was written on it.
The entire booklet showed signs of having been read countless times. He picked it up; large sections were blank with no annotations. He turned to the last page, where he found Song Zhao's handwriting.
—The dynasties on this land collapsed and were rebuilt, until they completely disappeared two thousand years later.
he:"……"
His memory faded away once again.
We've gone back ten years.
The days spent with his brother were incredibly boring. Returning from the library, he saw Murong Xi and Wei Ning. Murong Xi was whispering something to Wei Ning, who seemed quite angry.
He held the books in his arms, looking at this one today and that one tomorrow. The Song family child who had moved from Suzhou to Shengjing always followed behind him, seemingly because Song Zhao cared a lot about his fast reading speed.
It was a drizzly day. He carried his books home and went to see his mother first. His mother's melancholy was said to be hereditary. Legend has it that if you traced her back a few generations in Heluo County, she was once a princess of the previous dynasty. That princess suffered from an incurable disease, which was depression, because of her concern for the country and its people. This disease would bring her misfortune for the rest of her life.
The misfortune did not come from external things, but rather transformed into countless monsters that grew from the depths of one's heart, obscuring light and warmth, and shrouding one in dark clouds every day.
This illness was inherited across generations in my mother's family, like a curse.
He always felt that his mother had borne this misfortune for him, and that if she hadn't given birth to him, she might not have contracted the disease. He was overly intelligent and sensible, and often had many things he wanted to say to his mother, but when his mother saw him, she was only worried about his future because Emperor Liang liked him.
In his mother's view, interacting with others and receiving their praise, the more conspicuous one becomes in a crowd, the more likely one is to be tainted by misfortune. His mother hoped that he would be an ordinary child, free from the praise and admiration of others, and untouched by misfortune and adversity.
He went to his mother's room. In the courtyard, a large area of Ruiyun Palace flowers were planted. The white silk threads fell and curled down, and the white petals wrapped around the bright stamens. A faint fragrance wafted over, the scent of his mother.
"Mother." When he came in, he saw the dim candlelight and his mother was sewing cloaks for him and his brother by the bedside.
His mother had a gentle appearance, but her expression betrayed no gentleness. Her pale face and perpetually furrowed brows, along with her dull, lifeless eyes, made her look like a flower that might wither at any moment. When they met his gaze, his mother would always smile.
"Changyou...how was your schoolwork today?"
“Very good, both the teacher and the emperor praised me. The emperor even named my calligraphy in the Zhizhang Hall,” he said.
He noticed how well his mother had cared for the flowers, and if he and Ruiyundian were both his mother's children, he felt that she favored Ruiyundian more. His teacher and the emperor had both told him that no parent didn't love their child, but he couldn't feel that kind of love for family members, which was shrouded in worldly doctrines, in his mother.
He felt this was forgivable. Just as he cared more for his older brother than for his father and mother, their family didn't have the intense love and hate that most families did. His father and mother treated each other with respect, each playing their respective roles. As the child born of their union, he was never overly attached to his mother, nor did he ever cause his father any trouble.
Everything was perfect. Although they lived together, each had their own illusion. The shadows of each person hung below the Prime Minister's mansion, silent and harmonious, creating the illusion that this was how it should be.
His mother didn't say much to him. Her attention was always on the plants and his brother's health. Unlike other ladies who were always eager to participate in palace banquets, or women who were so dependent on their husbands, his mother even felt that she harbored a certain fear, a fear stemming from the bondage that came from being too intimate with others.
Because he often likes to pry into other people's hearts, he noticed the dark side of his mother's personality. Sometimes he would belatedly realize that his excessive tolerance for everyone might have also made him dark as well.
"Mother, are these sewn for me and my brother?" he asked.
He noticed his mother's features were shrouded in the lamplight. She loved beautiful things; the jade bracelet on her wrist was pale and fragile, creating a delicate beauty. Her deep brown eyes reflected the tiger pattern on her palm. The two robes were identical, each bearing a lively tiger.
"Hmm... Changyou should take good care of Yanli. This is what Yanli told her mother... Changyou likes little tigers."
"Two tigers, one curled up, the other baring its teeth and claws. Don't they look like Changyou and Yanli?" his mother asked him.
He replied, "I don't want jade. Mother, sew me a pair of red eyes. The little tiger must be majestic and dignified."
His mother laughed, a laugh seemingly touched by innocence. He gazed into her eyes, a look he had never truly understood in his youth. Many years later, five years, ten years, after the passage of time, he finally glimpsed the depths of his mother's heart.
Those ancient, beautiful, withered, lifeless, tranquil, perfect yet fragile things.
What the mother longed for was nothing more than that.
— Rather, it is death itself.
His mother died when he was twelve. On the day Ruiyun Palace was in full bloom, a large part of the mansion's courtyard was covered in pure white. His mother's body was discovered by a maid, and she committed suicide by poisoning herself in her room.
Before she passed away, his mother prepared three years' worth of winter clothes for him and Xue Yi.
He didn't remember his father's expression, but his expression should have been exactly the same as his father's. Because they spent every day with their mother, they had a kind of premonition; long ago, much earlier, they had foreseen this day. Both he and his father had fantasized about their mother's death.
Does this fantasy carry a hint of foreboding? Perhaps it was precisely because he and his father often foresaw that his mother walked towards a future that had already been written.
The father must have been quite saddened; he hadn't eaten dried fish for several days and hadn't spoken to him, becoming much more distant. Perhaps for other reasons, Xue Yi was the one among them who cared most about their mother's death. Their mother cared deeply for Xue Yi; to Xue Yi, his mother's presence as a mother was even more significant than his own.
Because of his mother's death, Xue Yi fell seriously ill, and he and his father took turns caring for him. Perhaps it was during that time that he and his father developed some indescribable emotions; they both realized that Xue Yi was their mother's child. Neither his mother's husband nor he, as her child, shed a single tear at the funeral.
He and his father were not bound by any particular form; it was only because of their intelligence and decisiveness, their foresight—the talent to see through someone's destiny—that their lives felt somewhat empty. They continued to live as before; their mother's departure hadn't changed anything, only occasionally, in the dead of night, when they reflected on their lives, did they notice cracks appearing within themselves.
The crack grew larger and larger, and dark shadows grew out of the cracks, the shadows taking their place as people in life.
Xue Yi made friends at Zhizhang Hall. He had always known that Xue Yi was very intelligent and would quickly learn how to get along with people. He was surrounded by many people, but he never became too close to any of them. Xue Yi was always surrounded by figures akin to assassins, like himself. He knew he could never abandon Xue Yi, no matter what.
There were many people like him surrounding Xue Yi. Song Zhao was like that, Xiao Qi was like that, and so were the Shadow Guards. Those former subordinates of the Xie Prince's Mansion wept bitterly upon seeing Xue Yi, willing to give their lives to him.
He thought about this question carefully. If he could exchange his life for Xue Yi being free from illness and worries, he would definitely be willing.
Perhaps he wasn't the only one to discover this talent; intelligent people can always sense problems before misfortune strikes. He saw Xue Yi's exceptional abilities, and so did Emperor Liang. Because his father hadn't expressed his opinion on dealing with Xue Yi in court, their family was caught in a turmoil of being framed.
His father could not abandon Xue Yi, nor could he abandon his elder brother.
When he went to the hunting grounds with his elder brother, Wei Ning, and the Second Prince, Xue Yi was chased by guards sent by Emperor Liang to take his life. Because he liked to wear red, he was always easily caught by the pursuers. After Xue Yi was injured because of him, he gave up wearing red and never wore red clothes again.
It all started with a prophecy by a high-ranking monk.
The monk Jialing, who was leaving the capital, passed through Shengjing City and saw the conjunction of Mars and Antares. He then visited the Prince of Liang and gave him a prophecy, fearing a political upheaval in the future and that the ominous star was in the southwest. The Prince Xie's residence was originally located in the southwest of Shengjing.
Emperor Liang had told him this prophecy, and after hearing it, he didn't know how to respond; he was merely curious.
"Teacher, if someone, after hearing a prophecy, acts in the direction of the prophecy because they believe it too much, wouldn't that be considered the future determining the past?"
Emperor Liang laughed heartily and asked him, "Changyou, you are my confidant. If the prophecy comes true, what will you do? Will you be willing to take care of my son in the future?"
“Naturally, the teacher’s child is my younger brother, and I will take care of him,” he said.
"I think you and Qing'er are a perfect match. Would you be willing to marry her?"
"If this is the teacher's wish, how could I not agree? If the teacher is truly asking for my opinion, I naturally would not want to disrespect the princess."
Emperor Liang asked him, "Oh? What makes you say it's a waste?"
He replied, “His Majesty knows that I am heartless towards the princess. If I act according to virtue, I will naturally not mistreat her. But no matter what, not mistreating her is not the same as not loving her. In that case, it would be no different from disgracing the princess’s heart.”
"Changyou is so intelligent; it was my oversight. You are my true teacher," Emperor Liang laughed.
He and Emperor Liang shared a deep mutual respect. Although there was a significant age difference between them, he was deeply moved by what the Emperor said and couldn't help but say, "Your Majesty should not say such things. I see that everyone envies me for being by Your Majesty's side. It is a blessing I have accumulated over three lifetimes... Your Majesty is the wise ruler I must protect."
Emperor Liang then asked, "If your father and elder brother were to rebel, what would you do?"
How did he answer? He still remembers his voice and expression.
“I am my father’s child and my elder brother’s relative… In addition, I am also my lord’s subject. If my father and elder brother have rebelled, I can only atone with my death. I hope Your Majesty will be lenient towards my father and elder brother. I am willing to take the blame for my father and elder brother.”
A note from the author:
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