Chapter 79: Two Stories

After making some preparations, Yang Lian headed to the Xiaoxiang Pavilion alone. What exactly was Zeng Yiling up to?

He boarded a boat on the Qinhuai River. The boatman, who looked like an honest man, propelled the vessel with a bamboo pole. Inside the boat's canopy, his wife was busy cooking rice, with a few fish that had not yet fully expired laid out beside her, appearing as if they were preparing a meal.

The summer heat was intense, and the number of boats on the Qinhuai River grew. Many were filled with music and revelry, from which the laughter of men and women frequently drifted. The small boat weaved quickly through the crowd and soon arrived at the outskirts of the Xiaoxiang Pavilion.

When paying the fare, Yang Lian intentionally added five extra coins. The boatman was deeply grateful; in these times, money was hard to come by and spent quickly, with taxes levied on everything—it was as if they were even taxing the air they breathed, making life unbearable. The boatman thanked him repeatedly, and his wife came over to offer her thanks as well.

Watching this weather-beaten couple, Yang Lian waved his hand and walked away. A thought crossed his mind: it is truly good to be wealthy, or perhaps, it is truly good to have power. After walking another hundred paces to the entrance of the Xiaoxiang Pavilion, he looked up at the building he had not visited for several months, feeling a sense of nostalgia.

The pavilion was as bustling as ever, evidently filled with ordinary patrons. Yang Lian walked in with a swagger and surveyed his surroundings. Couples were whispering sweet nothings to one another, appearing utterly devoted. Yang Lian gave a faint smile and was about to head upstairs when the same woman wearing a veiled hat approached him and asked, "Are you Young Master Yang Lian?"

"I am," Yang Lian replied. The voice sounded somewhat familiar, but with the high veil, he could not see her face.

The woman said nothing more; she turned and led Yang Lian forward, up the stairs, and around three corners, stopping outside a room deep within the building. Before Yang Lian could steady himself, he looked up in surprise.

"So it is the Duke of Dongping. I never imagined we would meet again," Yang Lian said with a faint smile, bowing to him.

Li Hongji narrowed his eyes and asked instead, "What, are you here to see Zeng Yiling, too?"

"She is the one who wanted to see me, not the other way around," Yang Lian said with a smile, sensing something from Li Hongji's sullen expression. Indeed, upon hearing this, Li Hongji was stunned for a moment before looking rather resentful.

"Why, does the Duke of Dongping also wish to see Zeng Yiling? If you don't mind, why not come in with me?" Yang Lian suggested with a laugh.

Li Hongji was delighted and was about to agree when the woman spoke in a clear, loud voice, "Young Master Yang, my master invited you, not anyone else. If you insist on bringing someone along, there is no need to meet her."

Yang Lian shrugged at Li Hongji, looking helpless. Li Hongji shook his head, sighed, and strode away.

"Young Master Yang, please come in," the woman said.

Yang Lian nodded and pushed the door open; the woman closed it behind him. The room was lit by several red candles, with wax covering the holders. It was a two-room suite, and the potted plants inside gave the space a vibrant, spring-like feel.

The layout was cozy and minimalist. As Yang Lian looked around, a voice as soft as silk drifted over: "Young Master Yang, please come in."

It was Zeng Yiling's voice; Yang Lian remembered it well. He strolled inside to find Zeng Yiling sitting before a zither, her hands moving slowly over the strings. Seeing Yang Lian, she stood up and bowed. "Since our parting last year, Young Master seems to have forgotten me."

Yang Lian laughed. "Zeng, you are as beautiful as a flower; even Xi Shi would sigh in inferiority. How could I ever forget you?"

"Is that true?" Zeng Yiling leaned in, her breath fragrant as orchids, yet her eyes were filled with sorrow. "And yet, you haven't visited in half a year. You have truly broken my heart."

A sweet scent wafted toward him, and Yang Lian felt momentarily intoxicated. Was she trying to seduce him? Yet, he could not fathom her purpose; he possessed nothing that would attract her. He smiled slightly and said, "Though my person has been away, my heart has been with you every moment."

"You truly speak without sincerity," Zeng Yiling said with a hint of resentment.

Yang Lian studied her. He had not seen her face last time, and he still couldn't see it now. Judging by her voice, she must be a woman of peerless beauty. Why, then, was she content to make a living in a brothel?

Zeng Yiling frowned slightly. "The hairpin I gave you last time—do you still have it?"

Yang Lian was taken aback. He had kept it in a box. He had examined it repeatedly at the time, trying to find a secret within, but had found nothing. He had assumed it was an ordinary hairpin, but since she mentioned it again, it clearly held some significance.

Ever since then, however, he had carried it with him. He took it out and smiled. "Is this the one?"

Zeng Yiling pursed her lips and smiled. "It sounds like you have quite a collection of hairpins."

"I have a few, but this one is the most precious," Yang Lian replied, tucking it back into his robes.

Zeng Yiling did not stop him. She smiled, bowed slightly, and asked, "Have you unraveled the secret of the jade hairpin, Young Master?" Her question was so direct that Yang Lian was momentarily stunned. He scrutinized her and asked, "A secret? What secret could this jade hairpin have?"

Zeng Yiling fell silent, sat down, and frowned. "If you do not know, perhaps you should look more closely."

Yang Lian dropped his smile. "You invited me here, surely not just to discuss a hairpin."

Zeng Yiling's slender fingers plucked the strings, producing a sound of warfare that sounded remarkably like "Ambush from Ten Sides." Yang Lian was surprised. He had heard of the piece, but he did not know this specific melody.

After playing for a while, she stopped and asked, "Young Master, this piece, 'Chu and Han,' was something I came across by chance. Does it please your ears?"

Yang Lian nodded and smiled. "Your musical skill is naturally superb."

"Since you are well-versed in melody, can you discern the meaning of this piece?" she asked, standing up to pour him tea with her delicate hands.

Yang Lian knew the story of Chu and Han; "Ambush from Ten Sides" was based on the story of Xiang Yu, and "Chu and Han" was its predecessor. He simply did not know when this version had appeared, as it differed greatly from the later piece.

"The Overlord of Chu was courageous, yet after the battle of Gaixia, he was like a tiger trapped on the plains, ultimately meeting his end by suicide at the Wu River. It is truly lamentable," Yang Lian said calmly.

Zeng Yiling looked at him with a mysterious expression. "How do you think you compare to the Overlord of Chu?"

Yang Lian's heart skipped a beat. Her expression and words felt unsettling. What did she mean? He kept his expression neutral. "The Overlord of Chu was a hero of his age. What virtue or ability do I have to compare myself to him?"

"Though the ancients were great, those of the present need not belittle themselves," Zeng Yiling said, then added, "Young Master, I have a story. Would you care to hear it?"

"I am all ears," Yang Lian replied, knowing she was finally getting to the point.

"Once, there was an orphan who lost his parents to war. When he was seven, a hero saved him and adopted him. The hero treated him very well, but the hero's own son was unhappy. With no choice, the hero gave the orphan to a close friend to be adopted. That friend treated the orphan even better than his own son, teaching him to read and fight. As he grew, the orphan gained power and began to covet his foster father's wealth."

"To seize that wealth, he killed his foster father's son—his own brother—and nearly exterminated his brother's family. With such riches, his ambition grew, and he sought to take the hero's foundation as well. In fact, he succeeded, and even passed that legacy to his own son."

Zeng Yiling's story was concise, but the meaning was clear. Yang Lian was stunned; the story was all too familiar. The hero was like Yang Xingmi, the founder of Yang Wu; the friend was like Xu Wen. Although Xu Wen seized the foundation of Yang Wu, his own descendants failed to hold it, and power fell to Xu Zhigao, also known as Li Bian. He founded the state of Qi, later restored the name Li, claimed to be a descendant of the Tang dynasty, and renamed the country Tang.

The story forced Yang Lian to associate it with the history of Southern Tang, yet he was chilled. Why would she tell such an insinuating story?

"Do you think this orphan was a good man or a bad one?" Zeng Yiling asked, watching him.

Yang Lian looked at her. Through the tassels of her veil, he could not see her face, but he was certain she was no simple person. He smiled. "I have a story, too."

He told the story of the Zhongshan Wolf and Master Dongguo. It was a popular tale in his previous life, but unknown in this era. Yang Lian was eloquent, and Zeng Yiling listened with interest, despising the wolf's ingratitude and greed, while pitying Master Dongguo's foolishness.

After finishing, Yang Lian laughed. "Throughout history, the story of the Zhongshan Wolf has been common. Do you think the wolf was a good wolf, Miss Zeng?"

"That... a wolf has nothing to do with people, does it?" she asked.

"How could it not? The wolf is cold-blooded and duplicitous by nature; Master Dongguo should never have saved it. Some people are the same—they should never be saved. But since the fact is before us, regret is useless. One must simply find a way to kill the Zhongshan Wolf," Yang Lian said firmly.

Zeng Yiling seemed thoughtful. "Indeed, that is exactly right."

"However," Yang Lian added, "from another perspective, it is the wolf's nature, and Master Dongguo's poor judgment in saving it was his own tragedy."

Zeng Yiling nodded. "Your words are profound, Young Master. I have learned much." She bowed to him with great sincerity.