Chapter 565: Matters of Family, State, and the World

In the spring, after the first rain in Tai’an City, the entire capital seemed to become fresh and clean overnight. The political turmoil of the court was the business of officials, while common people continued their lives, eating and sleeping as usual. Most still lived honest lives, working from dawn to dusk. However, there were also idlers, those looked down upon as idle playboys, who were ranked in classes. Those who could afford courtesans were first class; those who played with famous horses or ancient treasures were second class. Those of lower status played with bracelets and walnuts, while the lowest tried to maintain appearances with fish and insects.

Yet, a young man living in the slums of Xieyan Street in the southwest corner of the city was completely beneath notice. Naturally, living among the common folk, it was strange for him to afford fine things. If he had been born into a better family, things would be different, right? Like the many citizens of Tai’an named Zhang, he shared the surname of one of the most prominent families of Liyang, but he had achieved nothing great. He was never seen doing anything useful, only borrowing money to drink and gallivanting around with a whistle for pigeons, though he couldn’t even afford a decent pigeon. In Tai’an, this was called pretending to be rich while being poor, a behavior even the poorest people looked down upon. Zhang Bianguan was such a good-for-nothing, despised by everyone. Fortunately, he had married a wife of decent appearance, a blessing from past lives, according to neighbors. Yet Zhang never stayed home with his wife, preferring to wander outside day and night, returning empty-handed each time. As time passed, even the kindest neighbors gradually stopped paying attention to him. Not long ago, he was even beaten, his face swollen and bruised, though the swelling had finally subsided. He still laughed and joked, greeting everyone with smiles, calling out “Uncle” and “Auntie” enthusiastically, regardless of whether anyone responded.

As the weather grew hotter, people dressed more lightly, and Zhang spent even more time away from home. After all, with such a large city, how could there be a shortage of young women on the streets? One evening near dusk, Zhang wandered near Xieyan Street when he heard the soaring coo of pigeons overhead. Instinctively, he looked up with a smile, revealing an old pigeon bell wrapped in green silk on his wrist, worn smooth from years of handling. He gazed dreamily at the sky. For years, he had been mocked as someone who couldn’t even manage leftovers or avoid dog excrement. No one knew what he was thinking, nor did anyone care. Those who understood his nature knew he was still interested in having fun, but he lacked the courage to join the wealthy in their luxurious pursuits. Instead, he found pleasure in free sights: the colorful eaves of pavilions, the shadowy unknown alleys, the Chongwu Gate for soldiers, the Chaoyang Gate for grain, the Dingshan Gate for wine, and the stone qilin on the Drum Tower, which had crouched there since the founding of Liyang.

The cooing of the pigeons rose and fell, and Zhang reluctantly turned his gaze away, feeling it was still too early to return home. He decided to squat by the only notable landmark on Xieyan Street—the Suolong Well. This ancient well had always been dry, and beside it stood a clay statue of a judge made from yellow bricks. According to local legend, the statue symbolized Liyang’s suppression of water with fire. The statue was as tall as a man, sitting with a bare chest and belly, laughing with an open mouth. During the Mid-Autumn Festival, people would feed it firewood and let smoke pour from its nose and mouth.

Zhang sat by the well as usual, occasionally wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Not long ago, he had been severely beaten by a group of people who mistakenly thought his father was finally losing power and that it was time to punish this disgrace to the aristocracy of Tai’an. But just as they were enjoying themselves, the next day they found that the sky of Liyang remained unchanged. Zhang’s father, for once, had struck back fiercely, leaving many groups crying for mercy. Those who had beaten him quickly hid, too frightened to even apologize. After half a month of nervous waiting without any retaliation, they finally relaxed and gathered together, mocking Zhang as a useless fool who wasted the advantages of having a father they could only dream of, failing to take advantage of his father’s power and reputation. They thought he deserved to be treated like filth that even stained shoes.

Zhang’s only talent was his ability to daydream. When he suddenly noticed a refined young man beside him, he glanced over but said nothing. After waiting a while, he finally chuckled and asked, “You’re not here to beat me up, are you?”

The scholar-like young man smiled and shook his head. “How dare I beat the son of the Prime Minister? Besides, even if I did, I wouldn’t be your match. Why should I humiliate myself? Even if you let me hit and scold you without fighting back, you’d just think I’m a fool trying to amuse you.”

Zhang raised an eyebrow. “So you’re actually a sensible person? You’re not from Tai’an, are you? Locals with your insight wouldn’t bother coming to see me.”

The scholar asked, “Does that mean you admit to being clever?”

Zhang snorted, mocking himself. “If I’m clever, what does that make my father?”

The scholar nodded. “That’s true.”

Zhang leaned over the well, staring into the dark, bottomless depths, no longer paying attention to the now uninteresting scholar.

The scholar leaned against the well’s edge and calmly said, “I know you enjoy watching the intricate eaves of palaces because they complement each other harmoniously, far more lovable than the mutual harm among people. I also know that when you left the Zhang household to establish your own, you planted a peach tree in the courtyard. People in Tai’an like having trees in their courtyards—pomegranates for many children and good fortune, jujubes for early success, and persimmon or toona trees are common. Peach trees are rare because the word ‘peach’ sounds like ‘escape,’ which is considered unlucky. Tai’an is the root of Liyang; if people leave, where can they escape to? You, Zhang Bianguan, are not stupid; you planted it for your father. But your father, our Prime Minister of Liyang, chose to ignore it. He won’t escape, so you, as his son, can only stay in Tai’an, wasting your days away, hoping to at least attend his funeral and pour a libation at his grave someday.”

Zhang responded with a flat “Oh,” continuing to stare into the well.

The scholar smiled. “You must have guessed that I am Sun Yin, the one who came from Beiliang to seek a position from Tantai Weng.”

Zhang turned his head. “Sun Yin, huh? Then tell me, what has the stone qilin on the Drum Tower been silently watching for centuries?”

Sun Yin, now quietly entering the Zhongshu Province and successfully attaching himself to Tantai Weng’s towering presence, though only a minor official, had already caught the attention of Huan Lao Ye. His rise was inevitable. Those few who understood this already knew it, and even the many who didn’t would eventually realize. Sun Yin met the gaze of this young man with blue eyes and shook his head. “How would I know what a stone qilin is waiting for? Anyway, it’s not waiting for a great wind to rise, blowing up smoke signals and causing chaos. If it only results in different people wearing dragon robes, is that fun?”

Zhang smiled, stroking his stubbled chin. “Yeah, it’s not fun.”

Zhang and Sun Yin sat side by side, Zhang shaking his neck, exhaling and inhaling deeply before grinning and showing Sun Yin the plain pigeon bell on his wrist. “I once received a pigeon as a gift, a top-tier specimen, black with a hint of purple, worth almost as much as the falcon owned by Xu Fengnian, the Prince of Beiliang. Back then, my father wasn’t the Prime Minister yet, only a third-rank official. He came to me without scolding me. You know my father—he considers scolding someone an honor. Except for Huan Lao Ye, he’s hardly ever scolded anyone in his life. He just asked me, ‘This pigeon is worth your father’s current status. What are you, Zhang Bianguan, worth this price? Are you stupid, or really stupid?’ I was fourteen then, and in a fit of anger, I returned the pigeon. The man, right in front of me, smiled and said he had no habit of taking back gifts, then crushed the pigeon to death with his hand. That man was the current Crown Prince, Zhao Zhuan. From that day on, I vowed never to associate with those people again. I’d rather listen to the creaking of small household doors than hear their flattery. I’d rather look at those neglected objects than watch those noble brats who can sell their farts as gold and silver. Eventually, no one wanted to play with me anymore, and I was happy to be alone.”

Thinking of his father, Zhang Bianguan involuntarily fell into thought.

He remembered how his grandparents moved to the city after his father rose from the Hanlin Academy. During the hot summers, the elderly couple especially enjoyed lying on bamboo chairs in the shade, fanning their grandchildren. Year after year, they fanned until only his grandmother remained, and then she was gone too. Their father didn’t even observe mourning; the court was too eager, issuing an edict to resume his duties immediately. None of the children saw any change in their father’s expression. Zhang clearly remembered the rumors in Tai’an at the time, saying their father had abandoned his humanity for his official career. But as their father’s position grew, the voices faded until they were completely forgotten. Zhang’s years of idleness allowed him to stay later than his older brothers and see family matters more clearly. When did the Zhang family’s affairs become equivalent to the city’s and the nation’s? Zhang’s expression was somber as he leaned his head against the well, gazing at the gray sky at dusk. In his childhood, not far from the mansion was a stone bridge. Once, the family went out for a rare outing, and his father asked them to count the number of stone lions on the bridge. His eldest brother, most like their father, counted carefully and methodically. His second brother was a bookworm, always following their father’s orders and imitating his elder brother. Zhang, only two years older than his sister Zhang Gaoxia, was closest to her. While their parents returned home, he took his sister to play on the frozen river under the bridge. When they were tired, he saw his brothers still counting. Zhang went directly to Huan Wen, the all-knowing uncle, to get the answer. When his brothers returned late at night, they found their younger brother kneeling on the ground. From then on, Zhang learned that small cleverness wasn’t real wisdom. But afterward, his mother secretly brought him a bowl of hot rice. His father saw it but didn’t get angry, only patting his head and saying words he only understood years later, “You’re much smarter than your two brothers, but since you share the Zhang surname with me, it’s not a good thing.”

Zhang gently sniffed, covering his face with a sleeve.

Sun Yin was about to speak when he heard a series of unhidden footsteps and fell silent.

A tall woman with a sword approached slowly. Zhang, recognizing the familiar footsteps, hastily wiped his face and smiled brightly. “Rare guest! Zhang the Female Hero, how about showing some mercy and giving me some silver?”

Zhang Gaoxia glared. “In the martial world, we help in emergencies, not poverty. Do you think I’ll give you a bag of silver, you penniless bum? We share the same surname!”

Zhang rolled his eyes. “We do share the same surname.”

Zhang Gaoxia smiled slightly, saying “Exactly,” and tossed a heavy bag of silver. Zhang caught it without surprise, laughing heartily. “This female hero truly has a compassionate heart! You’ll surely find a perfect husband—handsome, talented, powerful, and loving! Before that, how about you adopt me and take me home? Just feed me, meat is best, and wine is even better…”

Zhang Gaoxia ignored her brother’s teasing, coldly glancing at Sun Yin, the minor official from the Zhongshu Province whom she knew well.

Sun Yin stood up alone, leaving Zhang sitting, and faced Zhang Gaoxia, the beloved daughter of the Prime Minister. Ignoring her icy gaze that could strip a soul, he asked, “Miss Zhang, may I ask a question?”

Zhang Gaoxia coldly replied, “Then keep quiet.”

Zhang slowly stood, tossing the silver bag with a mischievous grin, adding fuel to the fire. “Sun Yin, Sun Yin, Master Yao praised you as a top scholar, but my sister has always disliked literary types. Don’t expect her to look at you differently. If we’re talking about principles, your talent is your talent, and my sister’s preference is her own. But if you’re determined to marry her, I don’t mind, but you must first defeat her and gain her approval, and my father must recognize you as the ideal son-in-law. Such a rare young man is hard to find, and you, who came knocking yourself, certainly don’t count.”

Sun Yin, slightly helpless, said, “What should I do with a woman who has already given her heart to another?”

Zhang Gaoxia sneered, “Sun Yin, you certainly know a lot.”

Sun Yin was unfazed and calmly replied, “I was destined to speak only half a sentence to the Chancellor in my lifetime. To exchange words with the Chancellor’s son is already making up for regrets. As for you, Lady Zhang Gaoxia, your presence is an unexpected delight. Rest assured, the one you love, I also love, but I won’t fight you for it.”

Zhang Gaoxia jeered, “You like men?”

Sun Yin smiled, “I do like him, but not in the way a woman likes a man. To admire someone deeply is also a kind of love. For instance, I greatly appreciate that the Chancellor couldn’t compose verses like ‘How I wish for mansions ten thousand wide, To shelter all the poor and freezing souls,’ yet he actually achieved this unprecedented feat. The six ministries built a total of four thousand rooms. In the future, the number of noble offspring will decrease, while the number of humble-born will increase. This is no less than when the elder Li Chungan opened heaven’s gate with his sword in the martial world, paving the way for the next generation.”

Sun Yin turned to leave, saying leisurely, “To assume what others might like and give it to them, thinking that is giving, without ever asking if they truly want it or are willing to accept it. Such people, no matter how sincere, are merely being self-righteous, pretending to be magnanimous and guiltless, yet they are still selfish. Whether it’s about romantic love or brotherhood, it’s all the same. It’s not hard to be kind to others, but it’s difficult to truly respect others by putting yourself in their shoes. The ancients used ‘bosom friend’ to describe their closest companions, so the question of what constitutes a ‘bosom friend’ is a great matter indeed. I, Sun Yin, am a fool. I don’t know what the world will be like in the next thousand years, but in our current age, I can still see clearly enough. There are many foolish people, but there are still those who do not value profit, fame, swords, posthumous titles, their friends’ goodwill, dying honorably, or the continuity of their family line, and even those who do not value their own empire or Rivers and mountains…”

Zhang Gaoxia furrowed her long, delicate eyebrows and asked, “What is he babbling about? Is he criticizing our father for fulfilling loyalty and righteousness at the expense of Uncle Huan? But later on, it seems like he’s praising him. Isn’t that contradictory?”

Zhang Bianguan replied carelessly, “He’s probably confused himself. People who are too clever like to oppose themselves, going back and forth, ending up with nothing.”

Zhang Gaoxia glared, “I might not know what nonsense Sun Yin is spouting, but I can tell when you’re criticizing our father!”

Zhang Bianguan unfastened the pigeon bell and casually tossed it into the Lock-Dragon Well, making a cynical face, “Father is too lazy to scold me, so I sneakily criticize him. You won’t tell on me, so what do I have to fear?”

Zhang Gaoxia’s tone grew heavier, “You really won’t follow Father’s wish and enlist in the army in Liaodong?”

Zhang Bianguan gently shook his head, “As a son, if I can’t help much, I should at least see him off. The purpose of having children is simply to support parents in old age and see them through to the end. As his son, I should at least accomplish one of these duties.”

Zhang Gaoxia sat on the edge of the well.

Zhang Bianguan looked surprised, “You don’t even cry hearing all this?”

Zhang Gaoxia replied calmly, “I’m not that kind of woman.”

Zhang Bianguan nodded, “Actually, neither of us is as much like Father as you are.”

As if recalling something, Zhang Bianguan added, “You’re about to leave the capital to travel the martial world. Listen to your brother’s advice—when Father says he doesn’t want you to go somewhere, it’s actually the place he most wishes you to visit.”

Zhang Gaoxia lowered her head, “Don’t say more, or I really will cry.”

Zhang Bianguan slapped his cheeks hard with both palms, “Damn it! You, a woman, haven’t even cried yet, and I, a grown man, am already giving in. There’s someone whose words are absolutely true! I’ve never heard a more reasonable statement in my life, not even the Sage Zhang himself could argue against it!”

Zhang Gaoxia lifted her head.

Zhang Bianguan winked, “He said that a real man isn’t a hero just because he bleeds without crying—women bleed every month without shedding a tear!”

Zhang Gaoxia took a deep breath, then another, finally calming the urge to kill someone.

Zhang Bianguan said gently, “Go then. When the world falls into chaos, heroes, tyrants, and cowards will all rise together. Don’t miss it. Think of it as giving our father a few more glimpses.”

Zhang Gaoxia neither agreed nor refused.

On that day, the sword-bearing Lady Zhang was never seen again in the city of Taian.

Zhang Bianguan returned to Xieyan Street as usual, the yard glowing with a warm yellow light, waiting for him. That not-so-pretty, simple wife of his, even when furious at his drinking escapades, still waited like this, day after day, perhaps thinking her life had no hope or end.

Other women, even if they didn’t marry into a prestigious family like the Zhangs of the entire Liyang Dynasty, but into the family of an official of the third or fourth rank, would live in splendor. Not only would they enjoy fine clothes and food, but their children would also live comfortably. When they grew up, they could ride proudly in fine attire, govern the nation, or live idly without ambition.

Zhang Bianguan was about to push open the courtyard gate as he always did, shouting for his wife to serve him wine and delicacies, when he suddenly crouched without reason, then quickly stood again upon hearing footsteps, and hurriedly entered the house.

The woman, as always, silently served warm, suitable food. She ate quietly with small bites, occasionally glancing at the man who had one leg propped on the bench, wolfing down food without sparing a word for her. That was her husband.

Yet she never showed her sorrow or resentment on her delicate face.

Zhang Bianguan often claimed that her good temper was due to fear of his family status. Even a dying camel is bigger than a horse; even if he was the least accomplished son of Zhang Julu, she still had to serve him carefully. But every time he mentioned this, Zhang Bianguan would slap himself hard, saying only birds, fish, and insects deserved the word “serve.” Then she would secretly smile until he glared at her, when she’d turn her head away, though the faint smile on her lips never faded.

Late that night, after she had fallen asleep, Zhang Bianguan quietly sobbed.

“I’m afraid of loving you more, and even more afraid that you might love me.”

“How could I not want a obedient and understanding child, a son or daughter would both be fine.”

“But I am the son of Zhang Julu. The more I do, the more mistakes I make. If I told you the truth, would you run away? But where could you go? If you don’t run, would life be any easier? Eventually, you’d realize the truth beside me in death, but I’d rather you hate me only then. I’d rather you resent me now, confused and blaming me for being useless and undistinguished, not managing the household. Wife, in this life, I owe you. If there truly is a next life, I will repay you…”

With tears streaming down his face, Zhang Bianguan wiped them roughly and gradually drifted into a hazy sleep.

The gentle woman lying with her back to him, motionless all night, slowly opened her eyes only after hearing her husband’s snoring. Her gaze remained as tender as the day she stepped out of the bridal sedan and he lifted her red veil.

The next morning, Zhang Bianguan cheerfully ate breakfast and strode out of the house.

After leaving home, Zhang Bianguan walked down Xieyan Street, gazing northwest, softly saying, “Gaoxia, you must go to Beiliang. Only there will the chaos last for a time, not forever.”

The Chancellor’s youngest son remained, as always, the most deserving of mockery among the aristocrats of Taian City, even of the entire world.

But what of that woman?

She quietly went about each mundane chore, and when she had nothing to do, she would sit sideways on the inner courtyard threshold, gazing at the gate, waiting for him to return.