ATEG Chapter 108.2

What he had meant to say was: his father. Ever since he had received that dream by the banks of the Jiuqu River in Zhou Family Village, he had felt that his father was truly no longer in this world — dead in that river, dead at the hands of the malevolent spirit. But without seeing the body, with only a dream to go on, Chang Andu’s heart still harbored a tiny, faint hope. Perhaps — perhaps his father was still alive, just stranded somewhere in the Liang Kingdom without being able to return? Perhaps that dream had only come to him because he had listened to Da Zhou’s words and then let his thoughts carry into his sleep?

Perhaps, as long as he refused to acknowledge it, his father truly was, somewhere in the Liang Kingdom, alive and well?

Just as he was speaking, the server brought their noodle soup to the table, cutting through his grief.

Hot steam rose from a blue-and-white painted white porcelain bowl, with pale yellow clear broth holding a small half-bowl of snow-white fine noodles. The person who had arranged the noodles was a skilled hand — each strand of noodle rested neatly in the bowl. The broth surface was dotted with a few spots of fragrant oil and snow-white, emerald-green scallion threads. One stir of chopsticks scattered the noodle strands open, one by one, distinct and clear, releasing a mouth-filling fresh savory fragrance.

Chang Andu lowered his head, using the white steam rising from the noodle broth to hide his face as he closed his eyes for a moment. When he raised his head again he was smiling at Li Chi once more. “Mister Li, please try some! Their broth base is made from slow-simmered lamb bones. The noodles are springy and the flavor is wonderfully fresh.”

The noodles in the bowl were not many — supple and elastic, the noodle fragrance infused with the savory broth — and finished in a few bites. The remaining large half-bowl of hot broth could be cradled and sipped slowly. The shop’s owners did not worry about customers occupying seats too long; most of the patrons here were exactly this kind — having finished their noodles, they would chat leisurely while slowly sipping the hot broth. In this cold of Frost’s Descent, it was a pleasant way to warm oneself.

Chang Andu continued from where he had left off. “When I first started out, I hadn’t at all planned on making it to Shezhou City — I just wanted to first find a more stable place with some protection where I could survive.” At this he could not help but give a rueful laugh.

His thinking had been simple enough: he was stranded in the Liang Kingdom anyway, and his mother, wife, and children were all in Lu. But he had no way to return there either, so all he could do in the Liang Kingdom was try his best to go on living, so that when the day finally came that he had a chance to return to Lu, he would still have his life.

“But the result…” Chang Andu shook his head.

Because he and his father had traveled back and forth between Lu and Liang a number of times in the past, he had considered himself fairly familiar with the Liang Kingdom. Yet this time… the Liang Kingdom had been turned completely upside down. It was as though what he had traversed before was only the city in daylight, while at night the city had stripped off its disguise.

Indeed — a kingdom where wicked sects thrived and all manner of creatures mixed together, how could it possibly maintain orderly peace? The great calamity had torn away the peace that had been painstakingly maintained, exposing all contradiction and conflict for all to see.

From Zhou Family Village onwards, Chang Andu had been unable to find a single relatively stable place to stay. “Relatively stable” meant having a protector who was willing and able to guard their domain against the demons and malevolent spirits running rampant in this chaotic age, and whose price for extending that protection to those under their shelter was something he could afford to pay.

And such a thing, within the Liang Kingdom, was rarer than flawless jade.

Chang Andu had no choice but to keep drifting from place to place. He had fled from towns that appeared tranquil, and he had sheltered temporarily in cold and fearsome desolate rural temples in the wilderness. He had unfortunately fallen into the clutches of demons and malevolent spirits, and had also been fortunate enough to receive help from others…

“I’ve had my share of turning danger into fortune and meeting benefactors along the way,” Chang Andu said with a smile. “The two most perilous times: once was on the boat on the Jiuqu River, when you saved me. The other was when I was forced to wander out in the wilderness…”

He was a sufficiently cautious person who would calculate distances and timing carefully, doing his best not to be forced to make camp in the open. Though he carried protective talismans and demon-warding objects, against truly troublesome adversaries those things were useless — such as the white-faced malevolent spirit on the Jiuqu River.

But in such an environment, accidents were unavoidable. On that occasion, Chang Andu had originally thought he’d found a good place to stay. The town was small and somewhat bleak — a common enough sight in the Liang Kingdom during the great calamity — but beyond that it was generally stable-looking. He had originally planned to stay there for a while, but at dusk he discovered a problem: all the shadows in that town were falling in the opposite direction from the sunlight.

This discovery made Chang Andu’s hair stand on end. He didn’t need to know the reason behind it — what he needed to do was flee.

He barely managed to escape the town before the last trace of daylight vanished, but was left with no choice but to find a resting spot in the open wilderness. If he was lucky, he might encounter nothing at all and pass the night safely. His luck that night could not be called good — but it wasn’t entirely bad either.

“I encountered some ghosts and monsters…” As Chang Andu said this, his pupils dilated slightly, as though being dragged back into the memory, his body tensing with fear. He did not describe in detail what he had encountered, glossing over it, then continued. “But fortunately, just when I thought I was going to die, I met another person.”

“That person was a valiant and powerful knight-errant — a truly good person. He protected me through the remaining journey and brought me all the way to this Shezhou City. As for that knight-errant…”

A sudden clamor arose outside the shop, drawing everyone’s attention. Some curious and impatient patrons craned their necks to look, but still could not make out what had happened; they called over the server to inquire.

A young errand boy had already run out to find out what was going on, and was now returning just in time to relay the news to the worried customers.

“The garrison troops have retreated up onto the city walls and let the refugees up to the base of the wall. Some refugees, crazed with hunger, have been blocking people and vehicles passing through the city gates to beg for food, and that’s what stirred up the commotion.”

Once this news spread through the shop, the customers immediately erupted into a clamor.

“How could they be allowed this close?” 

“What are the garrison troops thinking?” 

“How are we supposed to leave the city from now on!” 

“The capital is still better — I heard they keep the refugees stopped at thirty li out.” 

“I heard there were horse carriages forcibly blocked by refugees — not just their belongings, the people themselves were gone too. Those refugees are all madmen!”

The people in the shop were either indignant and uneasy or sighing heavily. Chang Andu also felt a creeping unease. The refugees were certainly deserving of sympathy, but people maddened by hunger… were capable of anything.

Many people hastily gulped down the remaining broth in their bowls, paid, and left the shop. Those who could afford to eat out at a time like this all had some means to their name — whether they could safely come and go from the city mattered greatly to them, and the threat that the refugees posed to their safety and the security of their assets required them to make their responses quickly.

The noodle soup was finished. After leaving the shop, the clamor outside was even louder.

Li Chi cast a gaze into the distance. Beneath the city wall, someone was distributing grain, but it was far less professional than what the Lu Kingdom’s royal capital and the Xuanqing Sect had once done in Gannan City. The refugees were packed into a crush, and because each person feared that by the time it was their turn there would be nothing left, they were all fighting and scrambling frantically. Those who got even a little food would desperately stuff it down their throats, and there were even those who choked to death in the process. As for those trampled, jostled, or injured — these were beyond count. The people distributing grain had already disappeared, leaving only a mob of starving, red-eyed, hunger-crazed people. And the soldiers garrisoned atop the city walls in their iron armor only watched all of this in silence, utterly unmoved.

Distributing grain in such a manner was not saving people — it was killing them.

Shezhou City. The prosperous and flourishing Shezhou City, which encircled and protected the Liang capital. The power protecting this place should have been the Liang Kingdom’s own force — that was how it should have been.

……

“You have no right to hate me.”

Xu Yourong huddled in the corner, trembling, her fingernails digging into her flesh. “Xu Huan, after forcing me to watch you kill my father and mother, you can still say such words?”

“I let you see them one last time. Your father also killed my father and mother,” Du Ji said.

“You’re lying to me!” Xu Yourong let out a shrill cry. She had already wept until she had no more tears — only eyes full of bloodshot veins staring at Du Ji.

Xu Chang and Xu Huan shared the same father but had different mothers. Xu Huan killing her parents was killing his own half-brother and sister-in-law. But if Xu Chang had killed Du Ji’s parents, that would mean killing his own biological father!

Xu Yourong had now also heard the rumor that had been rife on everyone’s lips. But if Xu Chang had been capable of harming and killing the old Liang King, how could he have been so suppressed as to be unable to even protect his own position as Crown Prince?

“He really did raise you to be naively innocent,” Du Ji said lightly. “The three city-fortresses of She, Jing, and Hong encircle and protect the Liang capital — they are the most powerful shield of the capital. Even amid the fractious and turbulent forces within the kingdom, these three cities have always been held in the hands of the Xu clan. But ever since your father ascended to the throne, Shezhou City has fallen into the hands of the Luo Sect. Can you guess what transaction your father made with the Luo Sect in exchange for Shezhou City?”

“That’s impossible!” Xu Yourong’s voice was louder than before, yet she trembled even more violently.

The Luo Sect was one of the top two most powerful wicked sects within the Liang Kingdom. They worshipped a deity known as the Laozu Luo Sheng, and their most infamous doctrine was “No Father, No Mother”…

Du Ji continued speaking in an unhurried manner. “The Luo Sect worships No Father, No Mother — all people in the world are children of the Laozu Luo Sheng, and all should revere the Laozu Luo Sheng as their own father and mother, showing the same reverence and support as one would to one’s own biological parents. As for one’s true, actual parents…”

Du Ji let out a mocking laugh.

“Xu Chang and they were perfectly suited to each other.”

Xu Yourong lunged at him like a madwoman. But that person — that person who had driven away her brother, killed her parents, and could still say she had no right to hate him — he merely extended a hand. His thin, pale hand pressed down on top of her head, and she fell helplessly into a dream, beyond her control.

Just before she lost consciousness entirely, she heard his voice:

“I at least let them die quickly. Ah Ci…”

She did not fall to the ground — Du Ji caught her, carrying her back to the bed. The bedding was soft and warm, yet Xu Yourong was extremely restless, brows knitted, curled up tightly. Du Ji stood by the bed and watched quietly for a moment, then said, “Keep watch over her.”

A voice of acknowledgment came from the air.

Du Ji turned and left the palace hall.

Twenty-three years ago, his world had been turned completely upside down in a single day. During the ten years of confinement in the ancestral hall, Ah Ci had not only been the person who kept him alive, but also the only one who spoke with him, who showed any kindness toward him. Even after he had left the ancestral hall by virtue of Xu Kang’s illness, she was still the only one within the royal palace. All those who knew the truth kept their mouths shut, not daring to exchange words with him. Xu Chang would not allow his son to have any contact with him. Xu Kang didn’t even know that the illness he suffered from required a blood exchange for treatment, and only assumed he had a cold-natured, sickly young uncle. Only Ah Ci — she had already come to know of his existence, and Xu Chang had not wanted his daughter to know the truth behind it all, so she had continued naively showing kindness to this frail, frequently-ill young uncle.

Xu Chang had killed his own biological father, yet he was willing to be a good father to his children.

But regardless of what the past held, Du Ji cherished this kindness. And so…

Ah Ci, you had best be able to think it through clearly.

……

Ah Ci sank into a dream.

She felt simultaneously very cold and very hot, her lips cracked and dry, her throat as though it were smoking, her stomach burning with fire, while her body was so cold it shook. There was not a single part of her that did not ache. The cold, hard stone tiles beneath her made her tremble uncontrollably, yet she was too weak to muster even the strength to crawl.

Her head also ached terribly, accompanied by unbearable dizziness. Every tiny sound was amplified in her head into a piercing, grating noise, like the sound of iron nails being drilled into her brain. She even wished she could just die from it, yet another kind of emotion was being torn up from the deepest part of her heart — she wanted to live. She must live on!

And so she forced herself to support her body upright. The pain in her palms where they made contact with the ground was enough to make her want to give up. She was too thin — so thin she seemed to be nothing but a layer of skin wrapped over bones. Her bones collided against the cold, hard floor; her joints were forced to support a weight that, though terrifyingly light, was already more than they could bear.

Ah Ci wanted to give up — just collapse onto the ground like this. Even lying on the ground had to feel better than having to force herself to get up.

Yet this body, as though bones had been dipped twice in wax and then drawn out, still crawled. She could not control it.

This was not her dream. She was only attached to this body, feeling what this body felt… and its emotions.

She was compelled to crawl upright within this suffering, though not to stand or sit, only to crawl — crawling toward the place in her mind where that piercing sound was loudest, then collapsing down again.

Then when that cold thing struck her lips, she finally understood why she had crawled to this place. That sound she heard — it was the sound of rain. Rain water had leaked through the roof to here, freezing her five organs and six viscera until they were on the verge of congealing, yet she had to swallow it down, even though every swallow sent pain tearing through her throat as though she were swallowing rough gravel.

She needed to drink water. Without water, she would die.

And he wanted to live on.

……

Xu Yourong jolted awake. She was slumped over the edge of the bed, retching as though she would bring up her very heart and lungs. Tears streamed down onto her trembling hands, wet and cold.

She had dreamed of being locked in the old ancestral hall, where hunger was not the hardest thing to endure. There was no one to communicate with, no books, no paper, no brush. The doors and windows were perpetually shut; even the noon light that filtered in was dim. She had counted every single brick, had memorized clearly how many cracks ran across each one.

She felt herself going mad.

Later, she no longer counted bricks. She had begun to count her own bones. She had grown thin enough to clearly feel her own bones through touch, and would sit counting them. Yet each time she counted, the number seemed different — sometimes a few fewer came out of the count, sometimes a few more. And sometimes, when a few extra appeared in the count, she would find herself thinking: those bones were extra — could she bite them off and eat them? Would that mean she wouldn’t be so hungry, wouldn’t suffer so much?

Had she already gone mad?

Xu Yourong was slumped over the edge of the bed, retching and weeping.

That was not her dream. That was Du Ji’s dream.

That was what her father had done to Du Ji. Those were Du Ji’s experiences of being locked in the old ancestral hall.

That was Du Ji’s hatred.

……

Shezhou City.

The deity withdrew a gaze from afar, the boundless sea of cause and effect still present in those eyes.