Chapter 601: Spring and Autumn's End, Beside the Straw Mat

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( ) 1st Floor, 2014-04-22 12:01

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Shoulder the Heavenly Dao 15

Fenghuo Xizhuhou

Once, the states of Chu, Yue, and Tang surged like wolves and boars. Now, their descendants are mere butchers, donkey sellers, slaves, thieves, and bandits. The grand Spring and Autumn period is now but a melancholy reflection. Is this a cause for laughter or sorrow?

It is rumored that Huang Longshi, the instigator of the Divine Land's collapse, merely burst into laughter upon witnessing the desolate scenes of scholars fleeing north. He composed several gleeful tunes for later generations to sing, claiming that not only the martial arts world but also the literary realm should be grateful for his disruptive influence, for a nation's misfortune often brings good fortune to poets.

The northbound exodus of scholars during the endgame of the Spring and Autumn period's great struggle for power is recorded only once in the official history of Liyang, as the "Yonghui Northern Crossing." It is recounted with beautiful words, lavishly praised as "Eight surnames, noble families, crossing Guangling." However, in Beiliang's historical records, there were two such events. Besides the briefly mentioned Yonghui Northern Crossing, more is written about the second northern crossing, which occurred before Xu Xiao became the feudal lord of Beiliang. During this time, Central Plains scholars and literati, completely disillusioned with the Liyang imperial court, began to pour into what is now the Southern Dynasty territory of Beiliang. Most of the so-called powerful clans who now hold high positions in the Southern Dynasty were once prominent families that fled north in disarray like stray dogs. These great clans spared no effort to secretly operate in Tai'an City, hoping that the relatively gentle Gu Jiantang would be appointed King of Beiliang, rather than that butcher named Xu. They firmly believed that whoever was granted the title of a king of a different surname would determine whether Liyang's future national policy would be strict or lenient. The result, however, was greatly disappointing: the cripple was to personally oversee the empire's northwestern gate as a vassal king, not merely a high-ranking border official. Consequently, they hoped to make a move before the gate completely closed, believing that "a tree dies if moved, but a person lives if they move," to leave a legacy for their family members during the Liyang court's impending "settling of scores." They were willing to bear the ignominy of surviving by depending on the "northern barbarians." For these colossal families, which often boasted "three dukes in four generations," a change in the nation's ruling surname was never a catastrophe; thus, "the fall of the nation is a small matter, the ruin of the family is a great one!"

As renowned clans lost their ancestral roots, countless family genealogies and ancestral portraits, cherished for centuries, were scattered across the ground during their flight north.

In the continuous spring rain, a young man crouched by the roadside. He could not pick up or open those precious diagrams and could only stare at a currently open page of a family genealogy. The compiler was clearly a calligraphy master, his writing elegant yet possessing integrity. Every word on this page of the genealogy was a pearl, and a few strokes perfectly depicted the full achievements of an ancestor. Then, a weary mule carrying four gold-lacquered boxes trod past, stepping on and ruining the entire genealogy, sinking it deep into the mud, its characters blurring. The young man stood up, seeing an endless stream of people before his eyes—clan after clan, surname after surname—all moving from south to north. He gently averted his gaze, noticing one of the mule's boxes crashing to the ground after its rope snapped, splashing mud everywhere. The mule driver completely ignored it, instead lashing the mule fiercely. He wasn't pained by the priceless ancient books purchased by generations of the family inside the box but irritated by the mule's slow pace.

After this chaotic procession of mules and horses, the subsequent carriages were much more orderly. There were no cheap animals like mules or donkeys, only tall, grand horses that seemed impractically showy for an escape to the north. The procession was also notably long, estimated to contain no fewer than four hundred people. Those riding in carriages or on horseback, regardless of age, did not appear as frantic as the preceding and following groups. In fact, behind the curtains of several carriages, many white-clad children, both boys and girls, whose clothes were slightly dampened by the spring rain, gathered. They recited verses fluently and pleasantly, without needing to hold books. An elderly man, appearing to be a clan school teacher, sat among the children, eyes closed in concentration, occasionally joining his students in recitation.

Xu Fengnian, who was dreaming and traveling through the Spring and Autumn period, did not follow this convoy. He stood still, listening from "Women aspire to purity, men emulate talent and virtue," to "Maintain elegant conduct, and good positions will naturally follow," and finally to "High officials accompany the emperor's carriage, their chariots shaking their ceremonial tassels," until the sound of reading gradually faded from his ears.

The old teacher, who had been silent throughout, only recited aloud once during this time, and he could not hide the moisture in his eyes: "Even in times of hardship and adversity, integrity, righteousness, honesty, and humility are not lost!"

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Xu Fengnian thought to himself, "They are not the 'north-fleeing stray dogs' scorned by later historians; they are probably the true 'northern-crossing noble families.' And they should one day return to their hometowns to honor their ancestors. But that teacher will surely not live to see the weeping willows, green moss, and fireflies of his home."

Suddenly, a destitute old Confucian scholar emerged from the crowd, staring at Xu Fengnian. It was likely that in the eyes of the living people nearby, his demented behavior was already commonplace. As they traveled north, far too many old people had died from illness, anger, or by drowning.

The old Confucian scholar, with spring rain on his head, stroked his beard and smiled, saying, "I finally found you."

"You predicted this long ago?" Xu Fengnian habitually opened his mouth. Although no sound came out, since this old Confucian scholar, who would one day give him a bun, could see him, he should also be able to "see" him speak.

The old Confucian scholar, who to others appeared to be a deranged man talking to himself, nodded and smiled. "This humble Daoist has said—oh no, rather, one day in Daoma Pass I will tell you—this humble Daoist Yuan Qingshan calculates not heaven and earth in this life, but only people. The Great Dream of Spring and Autumn that Zhao Xituan imparted to your brother Xu Longxiang is a long night road, and that bun is the guiding lantern."

Yuan Qingshan smiled slightly. "Two dynasties suppressed Buddhism, yet only Beiliang sincerely favored it. Since you are willing to bear this heavy responsibility, then you should receive Liu Songtao's destiny, thereby setting up the lantern's framework. Thus, the blood from Monk Longshu should light the wick within the lantern. Alas, this humble Daoist still couldn't witness the other two versions of you with my own eyes."

Xu Fengnian asked, "Aren't you worried about Beiliang being annihilated by Liyang?"

Yuan Qingshan shook his head indifferently and said, "Dynasties may rise and fall, but noble spirit must endure."

Xu Fengnian looked up at the gray sky and murmured, "This 'me' has personally witnessed Qi Xuanzhen sitting on the Demon-Slaying Platform to slay the Celestial Demon. Li Chungang, in a green robe, wielded his sword into Xishu, his sword qi rolling like a dragon on the wall. The Sword Emperor of Xishu defended the nation's gate for the Emperor with a single sword, until his sword broke and he died, trampled into mud by horse hooves. Deng Tai'a rode a donkey and carried a branch into the jianghu. Wang Mingyang, the defender of Xiangfan, committed suicide after the city fell, dying while holding an old jar containing the dry bones of his wife and children, a jar he once used for cooking. I have seen so many people and events, yet I still feel I haven't found what I should be looking for."

Yuan Qingshan spoke of heavenly secrets but did not fully reveal them. "One mind, two uses, three people dreaming of Spring and Autumn entering Spring and Autumn—each seeking something, all stemming from the roots of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism. The latter two are naturally close to you; in fact, you don't need to search for them, as they have already found you, a natural progression. Only the return of the other two needs to happen; you needn't worry too much. As for the noble spirit of Confucianism, if you deliberately search for it, you will most likely not find it. Even if you look for Cao Qingyi, the 'Great Official' Cao Deyi of the Chess Bureau, or Zhang Julu, the Grand Secretary, the 'Green-eyed Boy' of the Palace Gate Bureau, you will probably search all of Spring and Autumn in vain."

Xu Fengnian sighed, "Then how do I block the path?"

Yuan Qingshan closed his eyes and performed a quick calculation with his fingers. Opening his eyes, he slowly said, "This humble Daoist is not a true immortal, after all; before ascending, I am destined not to be able to predict what happens after my departure. However, at this time and place, no matter how hard I calculate, you cannot stop Wang Xianzhi."

Collapse Replies | 7th Floor, 2014-04-22 12:01 AM

Shoulder the Heavenly Dao 15: Xu Fengnian showed no anxiety. Yuan Qingshan continued to scrutinize this "Xu Fengnian's" aura, performing hand seals rapidly, his expression fluctuating between clear and clouded. "How strange, why does the more I calculate, the more certain your death becomes?! If that's the case, why would I exchange buns for copper coins with you later?"

The Beiliang Imperial Advisor, dressed as a Confucian scholar, fell into deep thought. After a long while, he looked up and said, "Perhaps this is a loophole in the Way of Heaven; this humble Daoist cannot calculate certain people and events accurately either. I cannot speak with you too much; I must now escort these scholars into Beiliang. Xu Fengnian, take care of yourself."

Xu Fengnian nodded.

Xu Fengnian remained in place, allowing the muddy procession to pass before following at the very end. He later watched them continue north from the border of Youzhou.

Then, Xu Fengnian involuntarily closed his eyes. He had closed his eyes many times since entering this black-and-white Spring and Autumn period. Each closing and opening was a dream, and he could never predict when or where he would open his eyes next, let alone whom he would encounter.

He opened and closed his eyes several times thereafter.

Xu Fengnian witnessed the entire construction of the Qingliang Mountain Royal Estate and understood why the old man in the sheepskin coat was suppressed by a large pavilion there. It turned out this was the ruins of Fengdu, the hometown of Fengdu Green Robe, one of the Four Grandmasters. Later generations all believed that the most secret sect at the time, "Fengdu," must have been a ghostly underground city, never imagining that the female Grandmaster would choose a place by a green mountain and a clear lake, naming it Fengdu. Perhaps it merely symbolized that the broken-hearted rested in a place where hearts had died, or perhaps there was no particular reason; she simply loved this green bead in the desert sands, liking its color which matched her clothes. The one-armed, swordless old man occupied the mountain alone, repelling hundreds of elite cavalry from the new King of Beiliang, Xu Xiao. Later, Xu Xiao himself went up the mountain several times, carrying fine wine from the Central Plains, which was hard to buy for a thousand gold in the impoverished land of Beiliang. He would sit beside the old man, confiding his deepest thoughts, often getting so thoroughly drunk that he collapsed beside the old man, still babbling in his stupor. Li Yishan would then help him down the mountain. Finally, one day, the old man in the sheepskin coat accepted a pot of new wine from Xu Xiao and, uncharacteristically, asked the mighty King of Beiliang what he thought of the wine. Xu Xiao stated bluntly that this nameless, inferior wine, though far worse in taste than the previous good wines, was cheap and satisfying to drink, and most importantly, it was very potent—that was enough. The old man took a sip and said this wine was actually called Green Ant. Someone had once tried to persuade him to drink it before, but he had disliked its harshness.

Later, his second sister wrote a poem, and it was likely from this incident that Green Ant wine first became known outside Beiliang, gaining popularity throughout the Liyang court and among commoners.

He then closed his eyes and opened them again, during which he saw two girls who first entered the Wutong Courtyard in Qingliang Mountain. One was still called Hong She at the time. Qing Niao was still Qing Niao, but she now had a surname: Wang, Wang Qing Niao.

However, at that time, the temperaments of the two girls were entirely different from their later selves. Hong She carried a strong Beiliang aura, her eyes as cold as knives, harboring hostility towards everyone, even the young master she was meant to serve, His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince of Beiliang, Xu Fengnian. Qing Niao, conversely, was entirely different. Her father was the Spear Immortal, the youngest and latest-dying of the Four Grandmasters. Wang Xiu had a daughter late in life and doted on her especially. Her first entry into the estate on the mountain was not as a maid but as a distinguished young guest. At that time, Wang Xiu's junior brother Liu Yanbing, who had not yet changed his surname, brought the girl into the royal estate, though she did not meet the young Xu Fengnian. Later, a major upheaval occurred when Chen Zhibao committed the treasonous act of assassinating his master. Liu Yanbing once single-handedly challenged the King of Beiliang, who was guarded by five hundred cavalry. He was barely stopped by Sword Nine Huang, who used eight swords. Xu Xiao, who was usually very impolite to martial artists, surprisingly allowed this martial arts genius to leave, granting him three opportunities for revenge. After using all three opportunities, Liu Yanbing neither killed Xu Xiao nor was he able to kill Chen Zhibao, who was then at the height of his power on the border. He became friends with Sword Nine Huang, who had been a stableman for several years, through a fight, and they agreed to drink together. Liu Yanbing then learned that the old swordsman with missing front teeth, whose original name was Huang Zhentu, was actually the junior brother of the Xishu Sword Emperor. He had initially come to Beiliang for revenge, but after many times of fighting, that hatred had dissipated.

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Liu Yanbing casually remarked, "A ruler and his ministers die at the nation's gate; swordsmen die in the jianghu." The Xishu Sword Emperor, he added, died honorably in both respects. Old Huang laughed and replied, "That's true, but I couldn't put it so eloquently."

Old Huang also said he really liked the young prince, who didn't mind his horse smell and truly saw people when he looked at them, unlike many noble descendants he had met in the jianghu who only considered those of matching social status as 'people,' and everyone else as 'dogs.' Of course, most importantly, whenever the boy went to the stables to fetch a horse, he would secretly bring him, the stableman, a pot of wine and would be very happy just watching him drink. Old Huang said the boy always talked about how fun the jianghu was, so the old stableman said that if he ever had the chance, he would definitely take him to experience the true jianghu of the common people, and the boy would surely be disappointed.

At this point, old Huang with the missing front teeth smiled so wide that he accidentally spilled a lot of yellow wine from his mouth.

Not long after, Qing Niao dropped her surname. And Liu Yanbing also changed his surname to Xu, becoming a personal guard and retinue of the old King of Beiliang.

For some reason, this Xu Fengnian knew that this was his last time spiritually wandering through the Spring and Autumn period.

He stood near a small girl's straw-wrapped corpse, watching her being mocked and beaten. Then he saw the young Crown Prince, his younger self, in splendid clothes and riding a spirited horse.

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Collapse Replies | 13th Floor, 2014-04-22 12:01 AM

2014-04-22 12:02: *Wipe*2014-04-22 12:03: Reply to Liangmang Yaonie Chumo: *weiqian*

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