YCY - 11

Chapter 11: Conversations by the Xixin Lake in a Sad Autumn

After the funeral, it was already deep autumn. Standing in the Chasing Clouds Garden where my parents once lived, I touched the straight trunk of the white poplar tree and looked up at the heart-shaped leaves falling with the wind. My heart was filled with sorrow: were they shedding leaves or hearts? The towering trees reaching the sky carried slender shadows under the pale sun, like wandering vagrants hesitating in this desolate garden, alone with the drifting clouds for company. The autumn wind blew, yellow leaves fluttered down, rustling softly. No need for zithers or flutes to harmonize with the weak crickets chirping beneath the wall. Their tune was full of vigor yet bleak, like the cries of apes and foxes; their sound mournful, as if spirits wept and ghosts cried.

A cool layer of moisture covered my face, and I wiped it away with my sleeve: my eyes were wet. Was it because of the loneliness of the white poplar?

“Miss.”

I sighed deeply, releasing the melancholy in my heart. Sniffing, I slowly turned around: “What is it?”

Han Quan’s face was full of anger, his beard trembling with rage: “This morning, three manservants and two maids were taken back by their families.”

Since my parents’ tragic death and the seizure of military power, most of the servants in the mansion had left, leaving only more than ten home-raised servants and maids. I shook my head, held Han Quan’s hand, and consoled him: “It’s good that they’ve gone, saving expenses. Those who want to leave cannot be forced to stay.”

“Yes.” Uncle Steward slightly bowed, matching my small steps, leading me out of the Chasing Clouds Garden, “Miss, Han Quan just can’t accept it. For three generations, the Han family has been generals, our entire household loyal and valiant. Each of the sixteen memorial tablets in the ancestral hall is stained with blood. Why is His Majesty so ruthless, seizing the Han family army’s seal, causing the young master and several commanders to become disheartened and resign from office.”

“Uncle Quan.” I spoke softly, looking up at him calmly, “Since ancient times, emperors have been the most ruthless; loyal ministers and brave generals often lead short lives. Brother’s resignation, I think, is a good thing. In a powerless situation, the sooner we leave this turbulent court, the safer we will be.” Smoothing my brows, I looked firmly at him: “Uncle Quan, the key is to survive, to live on.”

“Mi...ss...” The steward stared at me in shock.

“What?” I looked at him in confusion.

The steward composed himself, smoothing his brows: “Nothing, Han Quan is just surprised by Miss’s insight. Actually, these days, the young master and we servants are most worried about Miss.”

“Eh? Me?” I looked at Han Quan in mild surprise.

“Yes, since General and Madam passed away, Miss has become a different person. At just six years old, you took charge of household affairs, managing accounts and making decisions, losing your childishness. This has made the young master and us start to worry whether the changes in the family have hurt Miss too much. Now it seems, Han Quan overthought it; Miss sees things more clearly and is stronger than any of us.” The steward stopped walking, his face full of relief: “No wonder people say our Miss has a noble appearance, destined to be the mistress of the world. If General and Madam knew in the afterlife, they would surely rest in peace.”

Mistress of the world? I widened my eyes in shock, grabbed his sleeve, and asked urgently: “Did you hear this somewhere?”

Han Quan looked at me in astonishment, stammering: “Now all over Fan Du, it’s said that wasn’t this fortune told by the celestial official for Miss?”

Oh no! My heart sank, and I lifted my skirt, running quickly. Behind me came the steward’s worried calls. Tilting my head, I stepped on the muddy path after the rain, avoiding Zhu Yun’s obstruction, and pushed open the study door with a bang.

“Hah~ Hah~” Breathing heavily, my hair was messy, and my cheeks flushed.

“Qing Qing, what’s wrong?” Brother put down the scroll in his hand, his thick brows furrowed, and he stood up to come over.

I rushed forward, grabbed his hand, and urgently spoke: “Brother, let’s leave Fan Du.”

“Huh? What nonsense are you talking about?” He bent down to pick me up, sat on the pear wood chair, and smoothed my hair.

“Brother!” I shouted, looking at him nervously, “If you know how Mother and I were abducted, then you should understand that this Qianzhou battle was a treacherous scheme plotted by Jing Yong in collusion with the Qian clan of the imperial relatives. Now that our parents have tragically died and military power has been stripped, we are like a lonely boat in a storm, extremely perilous.” Seeing Brother’s eyebrows lightly furrowed as if in thought, I took a breath and continued: “Just now, I heard from Uncle Quan that now all over Fan Du, it’s rumored that I am destined to be the mistress of the world. Think about it, can Chancellor Qian, Empress You, and Consort Shu possibly let us go?”

Brother clenched his fists, narrowed his starry eyes, his gaze cold. After a while, he spoke heavily: “Uncle Quan.”

“Master.” The steward stood at the door, bowing slightly.

“How many maids and servants are left in the house now?” Brother glanced at him.

“There are seven male servants and nine female servants, totaling sixteen people.”

Brother looked at the painting scroll on the wall and said indifferently: “Gather these people and ask about their plans. Those who wish to leave will each be given ten taels of silver, and their indenture contracts will be returned.”

“Master!” Han Quan called out softly, bowing deeply, “Please reconsider.”

“Uncle Quan, no need for more words, just do as I say.”

“Yes.” The steward sighed, took two steps back, and quickly left.

Brother touched my cheek, speaking gently: “Qing Qing, you’ve grown up so fast, is it a blessing or a misfortune?”

I pouted, poking the long scar on his left cheek: “Brother, don’t be so old-fashioned, talking like Father instead of like a brother.”

Brother pinched my little hand, pretending to be angry. But suddenly, Huamei, who was attending to us in the study, hurried forward and knelt abruptly: “Please don’t send Huamei away. Huamei kowtows here to Master and Miss.” With that, she began to bang her head loudly on the blue stone floor.

“Huamei!” Brother set me aside, squatted down, helped her up, his eyes shimmering, “If you don’t want to leave, I absolutely won’t force you.”

“Master.” Huamei’s beautiful eyes were teary, her voice choked, “Huamei was sold to a foreign land since childhood, and at five years old, followed Madam here as part of her dowry. I personally witnessed the birth of both Master and Miss. Now that General and Madam are gone, Huamei wishes only to stay with Master and Miss. Even if I die, I want to die in the Han family!”

“Aunt Mei!” I jumped off the stool, hugging her, my throat aching, “From today onward, you are my Aunt Mei.”

“Miss...” Huamei looked at me in astonishment, her eyes wide.

Brother helped her up, smiling as he spoke: “Aunt Mei, you deserve this title.”

“Master...” She looked at both Brother and me anxiously, grabbing her dress hem, ready to kneel again. I hugged her knees, stopping her action, looked up, and a tear slid down my eye corner: “Aunt Mei, can you love Qing Qing on behalf of my mother?”

“Miss!” Huamei moaned sadly, trembling as she touched my hair, “Miss...” Her tears fell coolly, dropping onto my cheeks.

Brother turned his back, looked up, hiding his expression. After a while, he turned his face, his eyes slightly red, feigning a smile: “Look at you, crying like this will harm your health.” He walked towards the window, deeply inhaling: “Today, the autumn rain has just stopped. I’ll take you out to clear your mind and sweep away the bad luck!”

Huamei took out a handkerchief, wiping my tears dry: “Let’s do as Master says. Miss has been cooped up at home for half a month; it’s time to get some fresh air.”

I blinked, murmuring: “We should tell Nongmo first, otherwise she’ll worry if she can’t find me.”

Huamei held my hand, lowered her head, slightly bending her knees, “Master, Huamei will go change Miss’s clothes now.”

“Mm, go ahead.” Brother nodded, “Meet us at the main gate in half an hour.”

“Yes.” Huamei stood up, holding my hand, a faint smile on her lips, concern in her eyes, lifting her skirt, stepping over the threshold. That gentle lowering of her head, that light step, that graceful turn, somehow deeply imprinted in my heart, leaving me momentarily dazed.

By the time I came back from reflecting on that scene, I was already sitting in the carriage. Jumping down from Huamei’s embrace, I lifted the blue curtain, curiously watching the bustling street outside. Fan Du is located in the south, so even in late autumn, it wasn’t bitterly cold. Most people wore narrow-sleeved cotton robes, dressed simply and conveniently. Looking up, under the high and clear blue sky, towers stood densely, pavilions connected, red tiles and gray bricks arranged neatly. White clouds drifted lazily in the sky, and crowds bustled below, carriages never ceasing.

Fan Du, everywhere brimming with the colors of spring, truly a city unsuitable for autumn.

As I quietly lamented, the carriage suddenly stopped. The curtain was lifted, and Brother smiled at me, extending a hand: “Qing Qing, Aunt Mei, we’re here.” I supported myself with Brother’s hand and carefully jumped out of the carriage.

The street was wide, shops lined up, taverns and inns flying banners. This place bordered the lake, one shore lined with withered willows. On the other side of the green water, reeds swayed endlessly with the wind. As far as the eye could see, the mountain scenery was melancholy, faintly visible amidst the lake’s reflection and cloud shadows.

“Qing Qing.” Brother held my hand, stepping forward, “This is one of the eight scenic spots of Fan Du, Xixin Lake. Today, we will dine and enjoy the view at Wanghu Pavilion by the lakeside.”

Xixin Lake? Xixin, a seemingly lively and auspicious name, but combined it forms a “?”. Alas, sighing repeatedly, what a somber metaphor.

Ascending the high tower, clouds drifted faintly; leaning on the railing, gazing into the distance, the sky and water merged, making the green mountains seem small. Sitting in the exquisitely carved Wanghu Pavilion, propping my face with my hands, I gazed intently, idly admiring the view, seeing nothing but remnants of sighs. Turning my head to look at the bustling surroundings, embroidered clothes, colorful outfits, silks and satins. Listening closely, jingling jade ornaments clinked rhythmically.

Turning back, I saw Huamei standing behind us, not taking a seat. I got off the stool, tugged at her sleeve: “Aunt Mei, sit down.”

“Huamei dares not.” She lowered her head, folding her hands, moving back slightly.

“Aunt Mei.” Brother sighed, “Come sit, don’t feel constrained.”

“Huamei isn’t hungry; I’ll serve Master and Miss first, then eat later.”

“Aunt Mei!” I covered my mouth, holding my face, crouching to the ground, looking up in mock anger, “If Aunt Mei doesn’t sit, Qing Qing won’t sit either!”

“Miss…” Huamei’s voice choked.

“Alright.” Brother lifted me onto his lap, pointing to the chair opposite, “Aunt Mei, please take your seat quickly, or this girl will really go on a hunger strike.”

“Huamei thanks Master for granting me a seat.”

Seeing her lower her head and sit quietly, I finally felt at ease.

“Waiter.”

Brother waved his hand, and the waiter scurried over, bowing deeply: “Honorable guest, may I take your order?”

“Bring a few signature dishes.” Brother stroked my hair, “My sister likes fish, add a steamed fish dish.”

“I recommend our restaurant’s six gold medal dishes: crab roe lion’s head, Yongxi old duck hot pot, glutinous rice crab meat rolls, aloe lily soup, autumn cordyceps pigeon, and steamed fresh shad fish. How does that sound?”

“Mmm, those dishes will do.”

I looked up, frowning at him: “Brother, isn’t this too extravagant?”

Brother’s lips curved slightly, his expression softening: “As a farewell feast, do you think it’s wasteful?”

Farewell? I looked at him joyfully: “Brother is willing to leave Fan Du?”

“Mm.” He nodded, using his fingers to gently pinch my cheek, “Qing Qing is very right. Tomorrow, I’ll discuss with Uncle Qi and Uncle Shuo, decide on a place, and then we’ll go.”

I exhaled deeply, expelling the foul air from my chest. Great! Leaving this place of trouble, bidding farewell to this tumultuous autumn. We will find a safe place, start from scratch, work hard, and someday surely avenge our wrongs.

“Lord Han.” A clear voice broke my reverie; raising my head, I saw Ling Yiran dressed in casual water-colored attire, wearing a silver crown, smiling warmly at me: “Miss Han.”

Brother quickly set me down, stood up, and bowed respectfully: “Your Highness, Yue Xiao is no longer a court official; the title of Lord is unworthy of me.”

“My Lord, there’s no need for such modesty.” Ling Yiran reached out to lift Brother’s arm, his beautiful eyes sparkling, “In my heart, the Han family will always be a distinguished and valiant lineage, unrelated to the officials of the court.”

“Thank... Your Highness.” Brother’s voice was heavy, his eyes bright.

“Since fate brings us together again, why don’t we sit together?” This calamity-bringer’s eyebrows danced with mischief, his black hair cascading over his shoulders, his red lips vibrant. His seductive features left even Huamei speechless.

“Thanks to Your Highness’s kindness, please take the honored seat.” Brother vacated the upper seat, and Huamei hurriedly stood up, standing to one side, bowing slightly.

Ling Yiran smiled, his lips curling childishly: “My Lord, please be seated, Miss please.” He gestured with his hand, and a man in a green robe approached with lowered eyes. “My Lord, this is my attendant Zhang Fang; you met him during the roadside sacrifice.” He gave a subtle wink, and the attendant bowed deeply: “Zhang Fang greets Lord Han and Miss Han.”

“Lord Zhang, the honor is mine.” Brother stood up and solemnly returned the bow, “Please be seated, my lord.”

“Thank you, Young Lord.” Zhang Fang glanced at his master, received permission, and then quietly sat down.

“And who might this be?” Ling Yiran looked towards Huamei.

Unwilling to see Huamei stand alone, I pulled her hand and introduced her first: “This is my Aunt Mei.”

Ling Yiran raised his eyebrows, his flirtatious eyes meeting mine, neither smiling nor frowning. I lifted my chin, staring directly back at him. Suddenly, he burst into laughter, his beauty dazzling, his eyes twinkling playfully: “Dear Aunt Mei, please take a seat.”

Huamei trembled slightly, about to decline. I pulled her down onto the chair, speaking in a youthful tone: “Aunt Mei, this is His Highness’s wish; you must not refuse.” I glanced casually at Ling Yiran, who smoothed his long sideburns, looking at me with interest, his eyes full of curiosity.

“The dishes are served!” The waiter announced, bringing a long tray and neatly placing the six delicacies on the table. “All set, please enjoy!”

“Waiter, bring our orders to this table as well.” Zhang Fang tossed a silver ingot, “Keep the change.”

The waiter caught the ingot, eyes wide with delight: “Certainly, anything else you desire, just command!”

“Your Highness, this is too kind.” Brother stood up anxiously, intending to bow. Ling Yiran grasped his wrist swiftly, his eyes flashing: “My Lord, no need for formalities, it’s just a meal. Fine food is easy to come by, but loyal souls and righteous spirits are rare indeed.”

Brother’s brows furrowed slightly, and he slowly sat down, gazing pensively into the distance, silent for a moment. I scrutinized the calm-faced Ling Yiran. If during the roadside sacrifice he was subtly hinting and advising, then today he was openly recognizing talent and seeking capable individuals. Sensing my gaze, he turned his head, smiling as he stared at me. Those eyes, curved finely, like autumn waters, like cold stars, two flowing waves of azure, captivating and mesmerizing.

Feeling my cheeks flush slightly, I angrily turned my head. Suddenly, I heard a series of frivolous laughter nearby and glanced over in disgust. There stood a man dressed in a multicolored brocade robe, his powdered face oily, his features resembling a rat’s cunning countenance. He stepped onto a red chair, touched his chin, his murky yellow eyes leering lasciviously at Huamei.

That toad-like mouth opened and closed, emitting a vulgar laugh: “Pink cheeks, delicate face, jade-like hands, soft almond eyes. Beauty, oh beauty!”

I squinted my eyes, half-kneeling on the stool, shielding Huamei with my body, glaring fiercely at the toad.

“Damn it!” The man cursed, his mouth crooked, his hat tilted. He waved his hand, and three red-clad servants appeared behind him. He chuckled lasciviously, rubbing his belly, swaggering towards our table.

“Brat, move aside!” He raised his fan, about to strike my face. Suddenly, Ling Yiran moved faster than Brother, pressing down the man’s hand with astonishing speed.

“Damn it! Which bastard dared to block my way?!” The toad cursed, a foul smell emanating from his mouth.

Ling Yiran slowly turned, looking at him indifferently: “Young Master Qian, long time no see.”

“Ah, you! You!” The toad shook off his hand, his face filled with terror, “Ninth Prince, forgive me, forgive me.”

“Young Master Qian, have you forgotten the last lesson?” Ling Yiran smiled sweetly, devastatingly charming.

The toad recoiled two steps in fright: “No, no, ex...cuse me...” he stammered, hastily fleeing in panic.

Ling Yiran turned back, giving me a slight smile: “Miss, you must have been startled.”

I nodded gratefully at him: “Thank you, Yunzhi.”

“Finally willing to call me by my courtesy name.” He smiled like a child who had received candy, utterly innocent, “I thought you didn’t consider me a friend anymore.”

“Thank you, Your Highness, for your assistance.” Brother stood up, performing a deep bow, “Yue Xiao still has one unresolved matter.”

“My Lord, please speak.” Ling Yiran spoke indifferently.

“Who was that man just now?” Brother leaned on the railing, his eyes fierce as he glared downstairs.

“That man is Qian Qun, the only son of Chancellor Qian, and the Empress’s nephew.” Ling Yiran tapped the table lightly, appearing casual, “He is a talentless and virtueless person, a greedy and lustful rogue.” His peach blossom eyes bore a stern look, his lips slightly downturned.

That toad was so lustful; he must have harassed this exquisite youth before. Judging by the toad’s earlier panicked reaction, his fate must have been quite miserable.

Ling Yiran retracted his cold demeanor, picking up his chopsticks with a smile: “My Lord, do not be angered. He probably won’t dare come back today. Come, sit, let us enjoy this fine feast.”

I patted Huamei’s soft hand, giving her a comforting glance. Aunt Mei nodded slightly at me, smiling radiantly.

“Amidst fallen leaves and western winds, standing solitary on a tall building. Reed flowers tilt slightly, fluttering incessantly. A pond of withered lotus, swaying in the wind. Alas, time cannot be detained. Drink a cup of turbid wine, and bid farewell to the azure clouds, mourning the sorrow of autumn.” A lazy recitation of poetry echoed; turning my head, I saw a man in white holding a wine glass, leaning against the railing, feigning melancholy.

“Good! Good!” Across from us, several slightly drunk men with pale faces banged the table, shouting loudly in approval.

I disdainfully glanced at them: Jing Yong’s sinister ambitions have been exposed; You Country is weakening, and these pedantic scholars are here indulging in sentimental musings of spring and autumn. How pitiful, how tragic.

Ling Yiran leaned over, blinking: “Miss Han, it seems you don’t like that gentleman’s verses.”

“Mm, I don’t like them.” I buried my head in eating, unwilling to listen further.

“Why?” His voice was melodious, curious as he looked at me.

Taking a bite of fish, I replied plainly: “They are all pretentious moaning, forcing sorrow for the sake of new poetry.”

“Oh? Forcing sorrow for the sake of new poetry?” Ling Yiran’s lips curled upwards, his gaze intense as he looked at me, “Explain.”

“They only glimpse a sliver of the sky where the wutong leaves have fallen, without seeing the vast sky filled with returning geese. They recognize the imperfect jade pendant at their waist but don’t realize the moon in the sky also waxes and wanes. They lament the absence of snow by the riverbank but forget the battle of Qianzhou was a sea of blood.” Saying this, I coldly glanced at the group of pedantic scholars.

Silence descended, no sound for a long while. Everyone stared at me in shock, their eyes filled with astonishment. Ling Yiran stared intently at me, his eyes shining brightly, his throat moving slightly, his lips curling upward.

That bewitchingly beautiful gaze, penetrating my heart, was inescapable.

My cheeks flushed slightly, and I hastily turned away. Touching the vermilion railing lightly with my fingers, my eyes slightly damp, the Xixin Lake before me gradually blurred, a pool of green water condensing into a thin mist of dark green. My voice quivered: “People say the cicadas cry pitifully in the cold, half-strangled by the wind. But who knows, when the cicadas fall silent, life ends, and they return to the earth to nourish spring.”

“Last year in the west wind, I said spring was near. The reeds laughed at autumn’s departure, the crows carried crimson clouds.” The mist was dense, obscuring the lake’s color, “But now...” Extending my arm beyond the railing, slowly unfurling my fist, I choked back a sob: “Mother, you have lost the next spring.”

“Qing Qing.” Brother’s voice, filled with pain, sounded above me, his arms tightly embracing me, “It’s alright, Qing Qing, it’s alright.”

Tears flowed freely, blurring my vision, shadows overlapped, unclear.

My body went limp, leaning against Brother, feeling the vibrations in his chest: “Your Highness, my younger sister is unwell; Yue Xiao hereby takes our leave.”

My mind felt heavy, allowing Brother to hold me close, letting Huamei carry me onto the carriage. The grief of the past two months overflowed, the sorrow winding through my heart, forming endless loops.

In truth, I am not strong; in truth, my spirit is already wounded.

As the hills in my heart slowly collapsed, as I lamented this ruin, a sudden pain awakened me from my sorrow. Dazedly touching my forehead, I slowly climbed up. Seeing Huamei kneeling in the carriage, her face full of panic: “It’s all Huamei’s carelessness; I let Miss get injured.” She took out a silk handkerchief, carefully wiping the corner of my forehead.

Waving my hand, I blocked her handkerchief, mumbling: “What happened, Aunt Mei?”

“Just now, the carriage suddenly stopped, and Miss bumped into the window frame.”

Stopped suddenly? I lifted the curtain, seeing a crowd of people, vehicles jammed. Soldiers surrounded the roadside, and after half an incense stick’s time, bound men, women, elderly, and children were pushed out by officials in splendid robes from a newly painted vermilion gate. It was a confiscation. Sighing lightly, I was about to lower the curtain when I glimpsed the old man at the front of the line—it was none other than the newly appointed Vice Minister of the Imperial Stud, the originator of the rumors about the mistress of the world, the once illustrious Chu Feng.

Raising the curtain, I quietly gazed at the slightly askew plaque on the vermilion gate: Chu Mansion. So quickly it was the end of autumn, so quickly it had declined.

That frail, emaciated figure suddenly stopped, sharply turning his head, staring directly at me, his eyes filled with reluctance. His dry lips slightly parted, wanting to speak but stopping, giving a bitter smile, closing his eyes and tilting his head back.

“Old scoundrel, hurry up!” A minor soldier behind him pushed him harshly, and Chu Feng stumbled, pulling the family members behind him forward.

“Heaven’s will!” His voice was sorrowful, piercing the clouds. Chu Feng half-turned his body, deeply bowing to me.

Feeling something warm slowly slide down, causing a slight itch on my cheek, I casually wiped the corner of my forehead, spreading my palm. Seeing the tips of my fingers stained with crimson blood, it appeared especially enchanting in the bleak autumn light: winter is approaching, no more leisure to mourn the sickly remnants of the landscape.

Taking a deep breath, I lowered the curtain, rolling the sticky substance between my fingertips, my eyes refocusing: Do not let memories drag the shadow of the past, do not let dreams capture the splendor of yore. Leaving the desolate woods behind, I will use my own hands to cut through thorns and my own feet to carve a path to survival for myself and my family.