Chapter 86:
Send-Off

 

ZHANGSUN SHENG had spoken the truth: the Jade Dew Pills truly were outstandingly effective. Shen Qiao took two, and after he’d waited a few moments and circulated the Zhuyang Strategy’s true qi through his body, he found his meridians cleared up. His blood and qi flowed freely, and the muffled pain in his chest gradually lessened. No longer was it an immense effort to simply say a few words.

He bade farewell to Zhangsun Sheng and Dou Yi, then lifted Yuwen Song with him onto the horse. To help the boy adjust, he deliberately set the pace at a slower trot while turning his head to look back.

The city of Chang’an towered behind them, as majestic as it had always been. Although scoured by the flames of war, it still stood lofty and unshakable. However, over these hundreds and thousands of years, the people had changed, the dynasties replaced. After a couple of years, perhaps even the tragic, unjust death that Yuwen Xian had suffered would be forgotten by most.

Dou Yan held her father’s hand as she watched the two leave, without blinking. Then she raised her voice and yelled, “Take care, esteemed Daoist Master Shen! Take care, Yuwen-qilang!”

Shen Qiao smiled at her, but then he noticed that Yuwen Song, who was sitting in front of him, hadn’t spoken a word. He asked, “Do you wish to take another look at Chang’an? Once we leave, there’s no saying how long it’ll be before we can return.”

Yuwen Song was silent for a moment, then said, “It’s a place of sorrow, so looking at it will only bring me more sorrow. I only hate how powerless I am, that I could do nothing but watch as my parents suffered injustice.”

He was even younger than Shiwu, yet the words from his mouth were mature beyond his age. Shiwu had wept uncontrollably the day he lost his master. As for Yuwen Song, he’d cried back at the Su residence, and at this moment his voice was dull and hoarse. But his words remained clear and articulate. He was many times stronger than Shiwu. Thinking about it now, perhaps all children from the royal family were like this—Dou Yan, too, when Shen Qiao had been carrying her, had neither panicked nor struggled despite the treacherous situation she was in and thus hadn’t hampered Shen Qiao as he’d faced the enemy.

Shen Qiao caressed his head. “Don’t think of it that way. Originally, your father could have fled without issue, but he insisted on staying. First, because he was unwilling to leave your mother and brothers to face danger by themselves, and second, so that he could demonstrate his innocence and loyalty to the emperor and the world. Perhaps some people wouldn’t understand, but as his son, you surely do, don’t you?”

Yuwen Song made a sound of assent. Then, after a long while, he whispered, “In truth, Father had already made some arrangements: he wanted Mother and the rest to leave at the first opportunity, but Mother also didn’t want to leave Father to face the danger alone. My brothers, too—none of them were willing to leave. I was the youngest, so Uncle Yan forcibly brought me away…”

“Yes,” said Shen Qiao. “During our time in this world, everyone has to make their own choices. Some will choose to preserve their lives at all costs, and some will choose to give up their lives for their reputation or to demonstrate their innocence. In all cases, there is nothing to criticize. Only during the darkest hour will one’s true self emerge. So many people were willing to secretly assist the Prince of Qi, and the Su family was even willing to stand up for him against the emperor. Clearly, everyone knew how moral the Prince of Qi was. No amount of slander would be able to change this.

“Since someone has entrusted me with this duty, I must ensure that you arrive somewhere safe. Do you have any relatives you can turn to?”

He’d originally planned to bring Yuwen Song back to Bixia Sect on Mount Tai, but having seen that this child had his own views despite his young age, he decided to ask his opinion instead of making the decision for him.

Yuwen Song shook his head. “The Yuwen family’s relatives are all from the royal family. Even if someone was willing to take me in, if the higher-ups pursue the matter, they’ll eventually end up implicated. Yuwen Yun has already killed my father and three other members of the royal family who were all prestigious and respected, so he’ll have no scruples about killing more to strengthen his authority. I’ll go wherever you go, Daoist Master Shen.”

“All right,” said Shen Qiao. “Then we’ll head to Bixia Sect.”

“Where is Bixia Sect?”

“On Mount Tai.”

Sure enough, Yuwen Song’s interest was piqued. “Mount Tai, as in the first of the Five Sacred Mountains?”

Shen Qiao smiled. “Correct. Mount Tai lies within a mountain range, the finest in all the world. The red clouds at sunrise are peerlessly beautiful. If you see them in person, you’ll never regret it.”

Yuwen Song was still young, after all, so he was easily distracted. Though he was heartbroken, when he heard Shen Qiao’s description, he couldn’t help the look of slight anticipation that tinted his face.

Yuwen Yun had always feared Yuwen Xian’s prestige. Fearing that dragging things out could lead to disadvantageous changes, he first dispatched his men to surround the Prince of Qi’s residence, forcing Yuwen Xian into hiding. Everyone else only took this to mean that Yuwen Yun was still unwilling to kill him, and thus dropped their guard. No one expected that Yuwen Yun would suddenly launch an attack and have Murong Qin kill his own uncle. Unwilling to endure humiliation, the entirety of the Prince of Qi’s residence had committed suicide in front of the messengers. This news had already spread, and the entire city was now in shock. As everyone mourned Yuwen Xian, they also began to send memorial after memorial indicting the emperor’s underlings—Chen Gong and the others. This was an implicit accusation toward the emperor as well, and there were also people secretly doing their utmost to keep the emperor occupied to prevent him from dispatching men outside the city to capture Shen Qiao and Yuwen Song.

As a result, Shen Qiao and Yuwen Song did not see a single pursuing soldier for many days on their journey out of Chang’an.

As for the people of Hehuan Sect, Shen Qiao had killed two of their elders at once, and there was now a deep blood feud between them. Even if this hadn’t happened, there was still the incident where Sang Jingxing had forced Shen Qiao to destroy his martial arts, then been left gravely injured by Shen Qiao’s counterattack. The hatred between them had long been planted. Things were peaceful for now, but there was no guarantee it could continue forever.

Though Shen Qiao was currently injured, he was no longer the same man he’d been before. As long he didn’t have to deal with Sang Jingxing or Yuan Xiuxiu, he’d be able to handle any attacker while protecting Yuwen Song. So, when they arrived in He Province, he slowed their pace, choosing not to take the shortest route to Bixia Sect—instead, he headed south. Not only so he himself could recuperate but also to give Yuwen Song a diversion.

This journey continued for over three months. The two of them traveled and rested, rested and traveled. Whenever they entered a city, they’d seek out a Daoist monastery to recuperate in, then Shen Qiao would take Yuwen Song to broaden his horizons—either by enjoying the local scenery, or wandering through the streets and alleys, observing the town and various happenings.

“The vicissitudes of life each hold their own meaning. Within the happenings of this world also lie many truths—from the great Dao springs forth many thousands of paths, but even if there are millions of variations, they never stray from their source.” The more Shen Qiao saw, the clearer his heart became, and this benefited his sword and martial path as well.

His current self was long changed from the betrayed, downtrodden sect leader on Xuandu Mountain, but even after being mired in the dust of the secular world, not only did he lack even a hint of crass materialism, he actually seemed more transcendent than ever. Dark hair and blue robes, a longsword on his back, his complexion lustrous, bright like a shining moon. He looked like an immortal among humans, subtly giving off a sense of unapproachable, lofty abstinence.

As for Yuwen Song, he was able to mitigate most of his sorrow and melancholy through these sights and sounds. For one so young, if his heart were immersed in gloom for long periods of time, it would shorten his life. Shen Qiao had given this matter much thought, and, accordingly, spoke little of theories or philosophies. Instead, he simply took the boy out to wander around, wanting him to see and consider more of the world. This way, he could open his mind and broaden his horizons.

“I must let this Daoist Master know—the two of you came at the perfect time. Today is Master Huang’s banquet to celebrate his sixtieth birthday. All the city’s officials and famous gentry have come to offer their congratulations. If you’re planning to climb the mountain to sightsee, why not wait until tomorrow to do it? It would be a shame to miss the birthday banquet!”

After they arrived at Runan’s border, Shen Qiao had brought Yuwen Song to an inn. The concierge, having noticed that they weren’t locals, gave them this recommendation.

“Master Huang?” Naturally, Shen Qiao was unable to discern the man’s identity just from this title alone.

“Yes, yes. Master Huang’s real name is Xidao. He’s an illustrious scholar of this city—seems that he’s well-known among both the jianghu and the scholar class. My young self cannot claim to know much, but Master Huang’s reputation within this city is indeed thunderous. His esteemed self is extremely hospitable—anyone can stop by for a drink, no invitation required. I heard that the renowned lute player, Master Du, will be playing a piece in his honor at the banquet, and that many people are going to hear him play. Even if they can’t get inside, just listening outside is enough to cleanse the ears…”

The concierge prattled on and on. Shen Qiao recalled that name, Huang Xidao—Yan Wushi had mentioned him before. The man was from a noble family in Runan, and he was both a master of music and accomplished in martial arts. But due to his family background, he couldn’t count as a full member of the jianghu.

Yan Wushi had no time for martial artists who were the slightest bit lacking. He’d brought up Huang Xidao solely because the man could not only infuse his music with bitter desolation, but also perform sounds so beautiful that birds would flock by the hundreds to listen. He shared some similarities with Fajing Sect Leader Guang Lingsan, but though Huang Xidao couldn’t compare to Guang Lingsan martially, he might surpass him when it came to music. And so, Yan Wushi had briefly mentioned Huang Xidao, while talking about Guang Lingsan.

Yuwen Song’s eyes shone, and he tugged on the corner of Shen Qiao’s robe. When Shen Qiao bent down, he whispered, “I’ve seen the lute player he mentioned. His name is Du Yun. He entered the palace to perform before, and it’s true: he’s so skilled that any piece he plays seems to linger for three days.”

“Do you wish to go listen?” asked Shen Qiao.

Yuwen Song bore a yearning expression. “Can we?”

Shen Qiao gave a small smile. “Of course we can. Since Master Huang is hospitable, I’m sure he won’t mind having the two of us as additional uninvited guests.”

This inn wasn’t far from the Huang residence. When they arrived, a man dressed in a steward’s uniform was standing before the gates, personally welcoming the guests inside.

When he saw Shen Qiao and Yuwen Song approach, he dutifully asked for their names. To avoid trouble, Shen Qiao used an alias. “This one is Shan Qiaozi, a wandering Daoist. I heard that it was Master Huang’s birthday, so I specially came to congratulate him.”

It’d be too rude to come empty-handed, so he’d purchased a small gift on the way, which Yuwen Song now presented with both hands.

The steward thought little of this small gift—many people arriving at the Huang residence today were here for free food and drinks, but the Huang residence was large and well-off, so a couple extra freeloaders wasn’t an issue for them. However, they did separate the banquet-goers based on status, grouping them and assigning them to different areas. There were seats for those from the jianghu, as well as seats for scholars.

The Huang residence’s steward had seen all sorts of people and had thus long developed a keen eye. When he saw the long weapon-shaped cloth bundle slung over Shen Qiao’s back, he grew more cautious. “May I ask if this Daoist Master is from the jianghu?”

Yet Shen Qiao shook his head. “I only know a little martial arts—I can’t be considered a man from the jianghu.”

Seeing how extraordinary his demeanor was, the steward dared not classify him as an ordinary person. He also noticed that while Yuwen Song was young, he was similarly elegant and collected. Hence, he immediately had someone take them to where the scholars were seated.

Shen Qiao wasn’t acquainted with the people at the banquet, but he was gentle and good-natured, as well as amicable to everyone. When the others saw his Daoist dress, they couldn’t resist asking him about Daoist matters. After answering a couple of their questions, Shen Qiao was already friendly with the people around him, and he also knew that they were all illustrious scholars from the city, with some reputation among the scholar class. They too had come for Master Du’s performance—their esteem was evident in their words.

The guests had yet to finish arriving, and the host was greeting them elsewhere. The atmosphere was fervent but a little noisy as the crowd quietly chatted among themselves, and Yuwen Song listened intently to the discussions of music around him. Shen Qiao involuntarily raised his head and caught a familiar silhouette out of the corner of his eye.

So familiar, in fact, that he couldn’t resist making a noise of surprise.