DAI SHENGYAN HADN'T ABANDONED his youngest disciple. As soon as he received the servant's message, he left the old friend he was visiting and rushed back, so anxious that he plucked several strands from his beard along the way.
"This child…" Dai Shengyan said to himself. Gazing at Xie Jinglan's stubborn expression, he told the boy, "I thought you were a sensible prodigy who'd know better than to clash head-on with his father. Then again, you're only twelve. It's hard to escape the impulsiveness of youth."
"There are things that can't be tolerated," Xie Jinglan replied indifferently.
Dai Shengyan heaved a long sigh, pondered for a moment, and then said, "Jinglan, would you be willing to leave your home to follow an old man like me? To live a life of wandering and hardship, with no fixed home?"
Xie Jinglan raised his head suddenly, looking at the old man in disbelief. He'd long known that Dai Shengyan was a restless man, who always tired of staying in one place, and was unwilling to settle in Jinling even in his twilight years. He'd thought that Dai Shengyan, appreciating Xie Jinglan's talent, was merely willing to guide the boy while staying in Jinling, giving Xie Jinglan the prestigious title of "Dai Shengyan's final disciple" to make his life a bit easier. He had never expected that Dai Shengyan might actually be willing to take him along.
"If you won't abandon me, Xiansheng, this disciple is willing to serve as your loyal companion, like Zilu and Yan Hui served Confucius!"
"Ha ha ha! Well, this old man has neither money nor power. So as long as you don't mind hardship, that's enough."
"To live like a carefree cloud or a wild crane hidden in the mountains—how could any mundane comforts compare to that?"
Dai Shengyan's beard twitched almost imperceptibly. "That's a shame, a shame. Though I've abandoned the secular world, I'm still known to it. You can't exactly call this seclusion—it's more aimless wandering while I neglect my duties." He lifted his eyes and glanced at the well-behaved young disciple sitting beside him. Clearing his throat, he added, "Today, I won't be teaching you the classics, Jinglan. Instead, let's discuss the Dao."
Xie Jinglan straightened up. "Please speak."
"Tell me, what do the words of the sages comprise?"
That question stumped Xie Jinglan. The answer was so vast. How many characters total did the words of the sages, the Four Books and Five Classics, contain? Was he supposed to recite them all?
He thought for a while, then tentatively said, "Ethics and moral principles?"
"Oh? Then why don't the 'words of the sages' include the crude precepts of villagers? 'When hungry, one must eat; when cold, one must don clothing.' Aren't those also ethics and moral principles?"
"Those principles are common sense," Xie Jinglan replied. "The sages speak of what others cannot."
"Anyone can spout grand principles. In truth, there is no such thing as the 'words of sages,'" Dai Shengyan said gently. "However, Jinglan, a sage can do what others cannot, endure what others cannot, and tolerate what others cannot."
He spoke with profound gravity, his drooping eyes fixed on his introspective youngest disciple. Xie Jinglan lowered his gaze, staring at the intricate patterns carved along the edge of the table.
"I'm taking you away for two reasons," Dai Shengyan continued. "First, so that you can broaden your horizons and focus on your studies. Second, so that when you look back on these events, you'll realize there's nothing you can't let go of. By the time you reach my age, you won't have the strength to hold on to anything, even if you want to. The sky is vast, and the clouds roam wide—why confine yourself to a tiny courtyard?"
But Xie Jinglan wasn't yet Dai Shengyan's age. At twelve years old, he was at the height of his youthful vigor. Though more composed than most children his age, he couldn't escape the impulses of his heart. He'd painstakingly crafted a refined facade of gentleness, kindness, respect, frugality, and humility. However, the accumulated resentments he couldn't voice nor show on his face were all stored in his heart, waiting for the day they would coalesce into a powerful demon.
Enduring fits of rage could make one a hero, but what if Xie Jinglan was willing to become a petty, narrow-minded scoundrel?
"You have treated me well, Xiansheng, so I do not wish to deceive you," Xie Jinglan said, lowering his eyes. "I am narrow-minded, and I hold grudges. If you dislike those traits, it's best that you leave me behind."
Dai Shengyan shook his head helplessly. "You're such a difficult child. If you're being truthful, then this old man really must bring you with him. If I don't keep you in check, the name 'Xie Jinglan' might one day be written in the Book of Treacherous Officials."
"Xiansheng worries too much. I would never do anything to harm the country or its people," Xie Jinglan said with a faint smile, bowing slightly. "However, since you are willing to take me in, I'll have to saddle you with looking after me."
Xie Jinglan brought news of Dai Shengyan's decision back to Qiuwu Courtyard, and everyone was overjoyed. Xiahou Lian crossed his arms and leaned against the door, eyes glimmering, a faint smile on his face. When Xie Jinglan saw him, the joy in his heart faded at once. He suddenly remembered that the other boy couldn't follow him; Xiahou Lian had to stay in Jinling and await his mother.
In other words, the day Xie Jinglan and Dai Shengyan set off would be the day he and Xiahou Lian parted.
"Shaoye, you must study hard," Xiahou Lian said with a laugh. "When you're a high-ranking official someday, don't forget about me. This humble servant will be counting on you then!"
Xie Jinglan responded with a low grunt, then asked, "After you return to the mountain, will you ever have a chance to come back down?"
Xiahou Lian scratched his head. "If I follow in my mother's footsteps, then I'll definitely have to come down."
"You mean, if you don't take up her profession, you won't be able to come back?"
Xiahou Lian fell silent for a moment. "That's right. I'd be a farmer and spend the rest of my life on the mountain, planting rice and flowers."
To protect the temple, Qiye Garden forbade anyone who wasn't an assassin from visiting or leaving the mountain. Those who accidentally wandered onto the mountain never returned alive. Outsiders thought that was because the mountain was so vast; they assumed people got lost or were eaten by wild beasts. No one knew that the most ferocious beasts on the mountain were the Garden's assassins. Similarly, those from the mountain temple couldn't leave unless they became assassins. The assassins' descendants became either new assassins or prisoners of the mountain forests.
Xiahou Lian would soon make his choice. He'd always been determined to become an assassin, for freedom's sake. But now, he'd abruptly realized that killing wasn't as easy as he'd imagined. He remembered the steward's corpse slowly cooling on the floor, and recalled his own terror as the claw sank into his shoulder in the great locust tree, as if the King of Hell himself had seized him by the throat. Assassins walked hand in hand with death, and he wasn't yet strong enough to face that without fear.
"Where is the mountain? Wait for me there. I'll come save you," Xie Jinglan said.
Xiahou Lian shook his head with a bitter smile. "I can't tell you."
"Fine," Xie Jinglan said. "I'll find out for myself."
"I'll probably take up my mother's mantle," Xiahou Lian said, blinking at Xie Jinglan. "But if you really are capable of challenging us by then, I'll follow you, and I hope that the future Lord Xie Jinglan will then give me a job. I can't really write essays, but my martial arts skills pass muster. I can be your gatekeeper and guard your home for you."
"Deal. I'll pay you two taels of silver a month and cover your room and board—but I won't provide a wife."
"Ha ha ha! That's very generous of you."
They looked at one another and laughed, their eyes filled with sparkling starlight.
Lanterns had been hung outside, and Xie Jinglan and Xiahou Lian left the study. Xiahou Lian headed for the kitchen to fetch food, while Xie Jinglan lifted the curtain to the main room and entered. Aunt Lan had already set the table, and she beckoned Xie Jinglan to sit.
Xie Jinglan looked around and noticed that all the servants were present but for one. He asked, "Where's Lianxiang?"
"I don't know," Aunt Lan said. "She's been missing since this afternoon. She probably went to play with maids from another courtyard. I'm sure she'll be back soon."
Xie Jinglan nodded, shrugging it off.
Meanwhile, Xiahou Lian squatted on a walkway, quickly finishing his meal. After returning his bowl and chopsticks to the kitchen, he lifted the curtain and bumped into Lianxiang.
"Are you blind, Xiahou Lian?!" Lianxiang said angrily, rubbing her head.
"Is your head made of iron? That hurt!" Xiahou Lian pouted, then noticed the pouch she held. "Hey—isn't that the pouch I keep my itching flowers in? How come you have it? You stole my stuff!"
"Ugh! Who'd steal something of yours? I don't want your stupid pouch!" Lianxiang rolled her eyes and lobbed the pouch at Xiahou Lian.
Xiahou Lian was baffled. Opening the pouch, he saw that the itching flowers were gone.
He picked itching flowers at the manor. They were beautiful, with pink petals tipped with purple. However, they couldn't be handled carelessly—the slightest contact with them caused red rashes and intense itches.
Xiahou Lian had a habit of collecting strange things, and the itching flowers were prized possessions of his. Lianxiang must've taken them to play a prank on someone. Xiahou Lian decided to check his bedding thoroughly. The two of them had always been at odds; the little minx was trying to mess with him.
Dai Shengyan went to Xie Bingfeng to discuss Xie Jinglan's departure. As expected, Xie Bingfeng was more than happy for Xie Jinglan to leave, preferably never to return. They settled the matter amicably, and Dai Shengyan told Xie Jinglan that, once the weather warmed up, they would depart for their next destination—most likely Shuobei.
Outside attending morning lectures, Xie Jinglan spent his days in the library. As always, Xiahou Lian joined him once he'd finished the laundry, bringing him tea and water. After the recent trouble, and with Xie Jinglan preparing to leave, Xiahou Lian no longer wandered around aimlessly. Instead, he obediently followed Xie Jinglan and was never far from his side.
One day, while Xiahou Lian was idly picking flowers in the garden, Aunt Lan stumbled into the library. "Something awful has happened!" she shouted. "Something awful!"
"What's wrong?" Xiahou Lian asked, supporting Aunt Lan. Xie Jinglan came over to join them.
"Lianxiang…Lianxiang..."
"What happened to Lianxiang?" Xie Jinglan prompted.
"Lianxiang… The mistress said Lianxiang tried to poison her and ordered that she be…beaten to death. Please hurry to the main courtyard, Shaoye. They've already dragged Lianxiang there!"
Xiahou Lian and Xie Jinglan exchanged glances and immediately raced toward the main courtyard, hoping those already there were taking their time.
The path suddenly seemed endless. The enormous Xie residence's sprawling walkways twisted and turned as if conspiring to delay their arrival at the courtyard. Artificial mountains and rocks loomed before them and blocked their way, and the once-elegant garden scenery now appeared sinister.
The setting sun hung red in the sky, the horizon ablaze. Every now and then, birds darted toward the clouds as if diving into an endless sea of flame.
Panting heavily, they reached the main courtyard's entrance. Two servants were carrying out a body draped in cloth.
As the servants turned, a hand slipped from under the sheet. It was well maintained, pale and slender, with fingers like peeled scallions and not a hangnail in sight. Xiahou Lian broke down at the sight of that hand; tears streamed down his face as he rushed forward to grab it.
Lianxiang had always prided herself on her hands. She never did laundry or washed dishes, sticking to needlework. She said her hands were meant to weave knots and embroider patterns for Xie Jinglan and must not be ruined. Each morning, she rubbed her hands with scented cream, and she trimmed her nails every few days. Now wooden splinters were embedded between the fingers of those cherished hands, which had clutched the wooden bench while Lianxiang was beaten.
Xiahou Lian remembered her spoiled, willful nature, but also the time she'd secretly brought him steamed buns and water in the woodshed. Her lively smile was still vivid in his mind, but now she was cold and lifeless.
Several servants rushed forward and grabbed Xiahou Lian, pinning him to the ground. He struggled fiercely, watching helplessly as they carried Lianxiang away.
Lady Xiao stood on the steps, wearing a translucent gauze veil. She looked indifferently at Xie Jinglan and Xiahou Lian. Through her veil, they spotted small red spots on her face.
"This maid tried to poison me. I had Steward Liu administer her punishment. What do you have to say about it, Xie Jinglan?" Lady Xiao's voice carried across the courtyard.
Steward Liu? How could that be? Didn't Qiu-dage kill him long ago? Confused, Xiahou Lian turned his head and saw the man, who should've been long dead. He stood in the courtyard, wearing a familiar smile—the smile of Qiu Ye.
A chill ran through Xiahou Lian's chest, his back prickling with goosebumps. Wherever Qiye Garden assassins went, blood flowed like a river. He remembered the deal Qiu Ye had struck with the Eastern Depot agents. If Qiu Ye had disguised himself as Steward Liu, was he here to kill Xie Bingfeng?
Xie Jinglan pushed the servants aside and helped Xiahou Lian stand up. "I wouldn't dare to say anything. I merely came to bid farewell to my former servant. Please, Lady, won't you grant me that one small courtesy?"
"You might've orchestrated this attempted poisoning yourself!"
"Oh, so what if I did? Would you have me killed as well, Lady?" Xie Jinglan asked coldly.
"You—"
Xie Jinglan turned to Xiahou Lian. "Go back and stay with Auntie. I'll see Lianxiang off."
Both boys' eyes were full of deep sorrow.
Xiahou Lian grabbed Xie Jinglan's wrist. "Shaoye."
Xie Jinglan shook his head. "I'm fine," he said softly.
Xiahou Lian nodded, then glanced at Qiu Ye. Qiu Ye bowed to Lady Xiao from a distance, then began following Xiahou Lian out from afar.
When Xiahou Lian reached the garden, Qiu Ye caught up with him.
"Qiu-dage, how come you're disguised as—"
Qiu Ye pressed a finger to Xiahou Lian's lips. "Shh. Don't ask questions."
Xiahou Lian turned to leave, but Qiu Ye grabbed him. "The girl is still alive."
Xiahou Lian froze. "What did you say?"
Qiu Ye blinked. "I know she's your playmate. I left a little life in her, though I can't say whether her legs will fully recover."
Gratitude overwhelmed Xiahou Lian. "Qiu-dage, thank you!"
Qiu Ye patted his head. "Do you still want to be an assassin, Xiao-Lian?"
"I..."
"You know, there's nothing wrong with the mountain. It's only a bit small. And the world itself is just a giant prison."
"Qiu-dage, how come none of you want me to be an assassin? Uncle Duan once said something like that, and you're the same way. Am I really not suited to it?"
"Whether you're suited to it is something only you can determine. How would I know?" Smiling, Qiu Ye pushed Xiahou Lian. "All right. Go pack your things. Your uncle's here to take you home."
Xiahou Lian was stunned. "What? So soon?!"