Fish Meat – Chapter 255

The Tenth Year of Shunde

Like Snapping Dried Twigs and Pulling Up Rotten Wood (22)

“Ah Xin?” Hearing this name, both Wei Tingxu and Zhen Wenjun let out a low cry.

            

“Yes, Ah Xin.” Ah Liao stated with great certainty, “Xie Clan’s Ah Xin.”

Zhen Wenjun immediately looked towards the Xiangyue Sheng, saw the Qingyuan ladies disembarking one after another, but saw no sign of Ah Xin.

Wei Tingxu connected the preceding and subsequent events in her mind. Ah Xin was originally from Dongchun; if she were looking for a place to live in seclusion, the likelihood of her returning to Dongchun was high. However, the Xie clan had previously been entrenched in southern Dongchun, so she couldn’t have gone back there. Living in this small mountain village, on the other hand, seemed like her style.

            

Unable to wait until they returned to speak, Ah Liao insisted on recounting every miraculous event of the past few days to Wei Tingxu and the others right there on the battlefield, still heavy with the scent of blood, from beginning to end.

She absolutely never expected Ah Xin to be here.

Back then, when the Chongjin army broke through Runing and stormed the Forbidden Garden, Ah Xin had risked death, relying solely on her own strength, to snatch Li Yanyi’s corpse, managing to preserve the final dignity of the sovereign of Da Yu.

            

After the fifth year of Zhaowu, Ah Xin and Li Yanyi vanished from the mortal world, and no one knew where they had gone. At the beginning of the Shunde era, countless people searched for their whereabouts; of course, they didn’t care about Ah Xin’s life or death, they only wanted Li Yanyi, dead or alive.

Ten years passed in the blink of an eye. Despite such a large-scale search, no one discovered their location; one could imagine how deeply they had hidden themselves.

Ah Liao had been in the village for so many days without realizing Ah Xin had walked past her countless times; she had no impression whatsoever of this village woman called “Ah Tang.”

            

When she closed her eyes, released the fire starter from the dilapidated attic window, waiting for an earth-shattering conflagration that never came, and puzzled, opened her eyes to see this woman with strange patterns covering her face—Ah Liao, who had prepared herself completely for death, couldn’t quite process it for a moment.

The village woman held firmly in her hand the fire starter that should have been thrown down to ignite everything. This action looked easy and simple, but was actually extremely difficult. Ah Liao didn’t even know when this village woman had appeared or where she had come from; none of the Qingyuan ladies in the attic had noticed either.

“Ah Tang!” Ah Qin recognized her. Wasn’t this the taciturn Ah Tang, shrouded in mystery? “You really know martial arts!”

            

“Ah Tang?” Ah Liao came back to her senses then. Looking again at this deeply hidden village woman, she actually found her somewhat familiar. She stared intently into Ah Tang’s eyes, certain she had seen this person somewhere before. Facial features could be shifted, skin could be changed—this was no difficult feat for a master of disguise—but the unique temperament within the eyes was hard to alter, even after many years.

Ah Liao thought of someone.

Ah Liao didn’t directly say the person’s name: “Accumulated learning, cherishing jade​¹?”

            

Ah Tang’s eyes remained undisturbed: “Zhangsun Ran, it’s been a while.”

“It really is…” Ah Liao’s eyes lit up, and she nearly cried out. Below, Li Man suddenly looked up, and Ah Xin immediately closed the attic window.

“Commandant Zhangsun, are you trying to scare away the barbarians and the nation-selling dogs​² that we went through so much trouble to lure here?”

            

Encountering Ah Xin here, aside from the initial shock, wasn’t actually a good thing. Ah Liao knew everything about the blood feud between Ah Xin and Wei Tingxu; she had even fanned the flames​³ herself. Ah Xin had lived under an assumed name for ten years; Ah Liao didn’t know what her plans were, but she was certain of one thing—Ah Xin would absolutely never help her.

Ah Xin held the fire starter, gently pushed open the window, looked down through a tiny crack, and asked Ah Liao: “How much gunpowder did you plant?”

“Enough to blow the entire mountaintop to pieces.”

            

Ah Xin frowned, clearly unsatisfied with her answer: “How long will it take from ignition to the destruction of the entire village?”

“The snap of a finger.”

Ah Xin already had an answer in mind, but Ah Liao’s words clearly exceeded her expectations.

            

“And the entire mountain?”

“The time it takes for an incense stick to burn​⁴ is sufficient.”

Ah Xin said: “You certainly are a remarkable person.” After speaking, she met the gazes of the Qingyuan ladies and walked over to a crooked, dilapidated painting on one wall of the attic. As she straightened the scroll, the wooden plank at her feet silently slid open to either side, revealing a rectangular secret passage wide enough for one person to pass through.

            

Ah Liao and the others stepped forward to look. Inside the secret passage was a wooden frame attached to ropes. One could sit in the frame and pull the ropes to descend slowly.

Ah Xin: “Commandant Zhangsun probably looks down on such a crude device, but it connects to a tunnel leading out of the mountain, allowing one to leave undetected​⁵. Even if the gunpowder detonates, the tunnel can withstand it for a time. However, the last person to light the fuse must descend quickly, or they might very well be blown to smithereens​⁶ along with the attic.”

Ah Liao’s eyes instantly lit up. She immediately thanked Ah Xin profusely. Ah Xin handed her the fire starter:

            

“No need to thank me; I don’t want to save you. But compared to you, I detest the barbarian thieves and the nation-selling traitors even more. If that Prince were to gain control of the realm, the common people of Da Yu would only suffer more intensely​⁷.”

Ah Xin descended first via the secret passage. Once she reached the bottom, she whistled, and Ah Zheng and Ah He immediately began pulling the wooden frame back up.

Ah Liao, who had already prepared for certain death, now not only had Li Man arriving up the mountain but also a chance at survival; her heart beat even faster.

            

After the other Qingyuan ladies had descended, Ah He went down as well.

Ah Zheng didn’t leave; she told Ah Liao to go first.

“No.” Seeing Ah Zheng reach for the fire starter, Ah Liao immediately hid it behind her back. “The detonation time is too short, it’s too dangerous! Only I can do it!”

            

“Ah Liao, I know martial arts, I run faster than you. Leave it to me.” Ah Zheng held out her hand to her.

Ah Liao shook her head, refusing to hand it over no matter what.

“I know you’ve always wanted to get away from the center of power, to ignore court affairs​⁸, to roam the jianghu​⁹, sleeping by water and lodging in mountains. I’ve always wanted to leave too, always wanted to take you with me, but unfortunately, I never managed it. I’m sorry… Ah Zheng. But this time, I will definitely keep my word. I won’t die. I will come back to see you and fulfill the promises I couldn’t keep.”

            

Ah Zheng didn’t argue with her further. She knew Ah Liao so well; she knew that while Ah Liao usually went along with everyone good-naturedly, once she truly resolved to do something, she absolutely had to see it through—ten bulls couldn’t drag her back​¹⁰.

Moreover, her promise reassured Ah Zheng.

Ah Liao was someone who did what she said. Having been companions for so many years, Ah Liao had never once disappointed her.

            

“I’ll wait for you.” Ah Zheng left these three words before descending into the tunnel.

Death could be heroic, but the hope of survival could make one’s blood boil even hotter, bringing forth immense strength.

The speed and power of the gunpowder explosion were exactly as Ah Liao had anticipated.

            

Just as she leaped into the wooden frame, the earth-shattering, heaven-rending explosion instantly deafened her, even though she had stuffed two balls of cloth into her ears.

The massive tremors nearly deformed the entire descent shaft; Ah Liao felt less like she was descending and more like she was falling.

When she landed, an overwhelming amount of dust and earth poured down from above, nearly burying her on the spot. Fortunately, Ah Zheng and Ah He each grabbed one of her hands and pulled her out.

            

“Why are you two still here!” Ah Liao shouted, her face covered in grime.

Amidst the earth shaking and mountains swaying, they had no time for further conversation. The tunnel was rapidly collapsing; they ran lower and lower, eventually almost crawling through the passage.

Ah Liao had never crawled so fast in her entire life.

            

During the escape, her nerves were stretched taut, and she didn’t feel any injuries at all. It wasn’t until they crawled out at the foot of the mountain, having escaped with their lives, that Ah Liao discovered her back was covered in small bloody holes from the shrapnel and broken tiles ejected by the blast. She couldn’t hear anything in her ears, even her vision was blurry, and her consciousness was unclear. She remained unconscious like this for two days, unable to contact Wei Tingxu in time.

“When I woke up, I found myself in a pavilion at the foot of the mountain,” Ah Liao said. “The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was crabapple blossoms. It was a sea of crabapple blossoms. I had never seen such a vast expanse of flowers. It turned out Ah Xin had always lived at the foot of the mountain, occasionally going uphill to exchange grain and cloth with the villagers. The tunnel was also meant for hiding during emergencies. I knew she lived within the sea of flowers and originally wanted to go find her to express my gratitude, but who knew that after entering and wandering around twice, I ended up back outside, completely unable to get my bearings.”

Zhen Wenjun said: “She laid out a formation​¹¹ in the sea of flowers?”

            

“Yes.” Ah Liao said, “I thought I was already proficient in formations, but the formation Ah Xin laid out wasn’t derived from the principles of the six lines​¹² generating numbers in threes, nor was it related to the Purple Star​¹³. It was incredibly beautiful and captivating, yet impossible to decipher. I wandered in that formation for a long time and finally gave up, fearing I would delay important matters. I must go back and investigate her formation again sometime! After emerging from the sea of flowers, we quietly went to Ming County, spent a day modifying a dilapidated Xiangyue Sheng, and then… well, here we are now.”

Hearing this, the great stone in Zhen Wenjun’s heart finally settled. Over the years, she too had been sending people to search for Ah Xin, wanting to know if she was still among the living. It seemed Ah Xin had intentionally withdrawn from the world, not wanting to be found.

Although she and Ah Xin shared the name of sisters, they lacked the substance of sisterhood. There were too many entanglements of love, hate, calculation, and manipulation between them; it was actually very difficult to clearly define their relationship. One could only say that Ah Xin was more than just a half-sister (sharing the same father but different mothers) to her. She still remembered a fierce argument she had with Ah Xin when she first arrived in the Northern Frontier. Back then, she was still young and viewed everything with fervent passion; thinking back now evoked more complex feelings.

            

Hearing the news that Ah Xin was still alive in the world, Zhen Wenjun felt nothing but joy.

“To think it was Ah Xin who saved you,” Wei Tingxu said. “If that’s the case, she must also know that I am in Dongchun. She has lived in seclusion these years, becoming even more unpredictable and mysterious. I fear I won’t be able to leave Dongchun with my head still on my shoulders.”

Ah Liao shook her head: “I already asked her about this.”

            

“You asked her?”

“Yes, just after escaping the mountain, when I was still disoriented from the explosion, I asked her. I wasn’t clear about what I was saying at the time; in fact, I couldn’t hear anything and don’t remember it at all. It was Ah Qin who told me later.”

Ah Liao couldn’t even stand steadily. Seeing Ah Xin about to leave, she immediately called out to stop her, asking: “Will you kill Tingxu? Will you kill her?”

            

Ah Xin sneered: “If I wanted to kill her, I would have done it ten years ago. Could any of you have blocked my arrow?” As she said this, her pupils sharpened, making Ah Zheng and the others instinctively draw their weapons.

However, she quickly retracted her killing intent with ease.

“But if I killed her, who would be satisfied? Would I be?” Ah Xin said. “Taking vengeance​¹⁴ isn’t truly settling scores with satisfaction; it’s just desperately trying to appease one’s own conscience. The enmity between the Li clan and the Wei clan is about to end. If I kill a Wei, there will surely be another person in this world like me, spending the rest of their life tasting bitterness. I know this bitterness is precisely the greatest suffering on earth. I am not a Wei; I cannot bring myself to do just anything. I witnessed with my own eyes how all the enmities began, how the previous generation’s mistakes destroyed so many people. One strike of my sword might bring temporary relief, but how many bitter fruits would it sow? How many future lives would it ruin? I have walked this path; I don’t want others to walk it again.”

            

Ah Liao couldn’t hear what she was saying; she only saw that the eyes of the ladies around her had all turned red.

“Finally, I asked her one more question, a question the entire world is concerned about.” When Ah Liao said this, she smiled and licked her lips, seeming to savor this particularly interesting and meaningful matter.

“What question!” Xiao Xiao, who had been listening more intently than anyone else nearby, couldn’t stand Ah Liao’s deliberate mystery-mongering​¹⁵ and asked impatiently.

            

Wei Tingxu understood what she had asked: “You asked her about Li Yanyi?”

Ah Liao’s eyes shone brightly as she nodded: “I asked very directly at the time. Ah Zheng said I asked her straight out where Li Yanyi was buried. I thought she would just sneer contemptuously and leave, but her answer couldn’t help but make one think more.

“She said, ‘I will absolutely never let anyone find Huaichen.’”

            

The only ones who heard this sentence, besides Ah Liao and the Qingyuan ladies, were the present Wei-Zhen couple, Xiao Xiao, Zhangsun Wu, and Wei Jing’an.

“Won’t let us find Li Yanyi’s grave?” Zhangsun Wu stroked his chin. “Or… does it have some other meaning?”

Wei Jing’an said: “Is it the grave, or the person?”

            

“Impossible,” Zhen Wenjun said. “I saw her die with my own eyes. Her body was already completely stiff at the time.”

Ah Liao asked: “Did you check her pulse?”

“No, but I’ve seen countless dead people. I wouldn’t mistake it,” Zhen Wenjun stated with deep conviction.

            

“True,” Zhangsun Wu said. “If Li Yanyi were still alive, given her personality, how could she possibly live in seclusion for ten years without making any move? She is the ambitious Eldest Princess, and moreover, a generation’s Female Emperor. She was inherently not someone who could be content in the mountains and wilds or the marketplace.”

Wei Tingxu waved her sleeve nonchalantly​¹⁶ and smiled towards the horizon.

Standing between heaven and earth at this moment, she could clearly feel a force operating in the unseen, destining everything. This was fate.

            

Like a sudden downpour on a clear day, or like the east wind that could never be borrowed​¹⁷.

But she didn’t believe in fate.

It seemed now that besides herself, countless others were unwilling to be ensnared by the net of fate. Everyone was struggling to survive, struggling to live on amidst the chaotic times, standing on their own two feet.

            

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