Edict of Peace 75
Chapter 75: Kingship and Hegemony, a Laugh in the Midst
“Auntie, you don’t know martial arts?”
Li Guanyi wanted to retort.
But now that he understood cultivation better, he said, “Auntie, you mean I’m not a crude martial artist?”
“Is your cultivation a different path?”
Murong Qiushui blinked, her palm rubbing the top of the boy’s head. “Don’t interrupt, little rascal. Sit still.”
“You’re growing up. You look a bit like your father.”
“But overall, you take after your mother. You’re much better-looking than your father.”
Li Guanyi rarely heard Murong Qiushui mention his parents. “So, my father wasn’t handsome at all?”
Murong Qiushui frowned, then smiled. “I can’t say he wasn’t handsome. For men, it’s about being valiant. Let’s not talk about this. You resemble both your parents, but when your father fought on all four fronts, he wore a face mask. Ninety-nine percent of the people in the capital wouldn’t recognize him. Those who did, all wished you would disappear.”
Li Guanyi considered this. “Then, disguise?”
Murong Qiushui said, “But there are many ways to identify people in this world. Even if they’re reduced to ashes, one can tell whether it’s the real person or a body double.”
“Perhaps in troubled times, there’s too much killing between people, too much scheming between monarchs.”
“The techniques for identifying a true body have advanced much faster than in the thousand years of peace before.”
“Some call it observing Qi (life force), others call it fate. Actually, it’s related to the ‘spirit’ (Shen). Different people’s Qi can change and be concealed, their bodies can be altered and disguised, but the ‘spirit’ (Shen) is difficult to change. It’s like the soul in many legends, that is the Shen.”
A ripple flashed in Li Guanyi’s eyes. “It really can’t be changed?”
He thought of himself.
Murong Qiushui smiled. “Of course. When I first saw you, you were a wrinkled little thing, not cute at all. Your spirit (Shen) was curled up, like a flower bud. When we were hunted down, it might have stimulated you, and your spirit (Shen) unfolded.”
“And you suddenly became sensible.”
She softly said, “Books say that calamities can hone a person, and it’s truly not false.”
Murong Qiushui didn’t continue, but sometimes she felt that she would rather the boy before her be a little duller, more willful, and live a long, peaceful life, than experience ten years of escape. But she would never say such words in front of her little rascal.
In front of her little rascal, she was always lazy and bright, never showing any sadness.
Li Guanyi sensed something. He deliberately said:
“Such a rare method, where can one find it?”
The young man sighed. “There’s no way. What can I do?”
Then he saw his aunt’s eyebrows rise, Murong Qiushui’s lips curled into a smile. “So, Auntie just happens to know a method, a method that can conceal the spirit (Shen).”
The young man exaggeratedly replied, “Is it such a coincidence?”
Murong Qiushui was amused, laughing uproariously. She pinched the boy’s cheeks from both sides, then rubbed them, complaining, “Alright, I know you’re smart. Don’t give me that dramatic expression.”
“It’s just a little trick.”
“The spirit (Shen) is hard to conceal, but it can be disguised.”
Li Guanyi looked at Murong Qiushui, puzzled. “The spirit (Shen), how do you disguise it?”
Murong Qiushui, with a smile, said casually:
“This is a method that many, many people know.”
“It’s a technique of playing the qin (Chinese zither).”
Li Guanyi was suspicious. “Everyone knows?”
Murong Qiushui widened her eyes. “Of course! Would Auntie lie to her little rascal?”
Li Guanyi hummed and hawed, not knowing how to answer. How could he say that he knew? He couldn’t speak, because as soon as he opened his mouth, the beautiful woman might suddenly lower her head, her eyes downcast, as if she had suffered some terrible hurt. And as soon as Li Guanyi admitted defeat, she would immediately laugh.
It was really like the wind in Jiangnan (Southern China).
Sometimes it brought misty rain, sometimes it was gentle.
Murong Qiushui took out her qin and played. “The qin is the sound of the heart.”
“It can be the battle cries at the borders, the grandeur of the desert, the spring breeze of Jiangnan, the desolation of Central China.”
“Did I really go to those places? Those magnificent sounds of warfare, those fierce and ruthless warriors, was I an old general, a free-spirited warrior? If I was, who was I? If I wasn’t them, why could I convey all this in my qin music?”
“None of that. It’s just my heart that constructs all this, and then it falls onto the qin music.”
“Little rascal, do you remember what Auntie said?”
Li Guanyi listened to his aunt playing the qin. He seemed to see Jiangnan and the north, hear the sounds of the wind. It was because of his aunt’s qin music that he always felt he was still a beginner student. He sat quietly, his back straight, and softly answered:
“Overtones resemble heaven, pressed notes resemble humans, scattered notes resemble the earth.”
Murong Qiushui pressed her hands on the strings, replying, “This sentence needs to be broken down.”
“It’s heaven, earth, and humanity; it’s the three talents (Heaven, Earth, and Humanity), it’s all things.”
“Little rascal, this sentence is for inner cultivation, only used when playing the qin. But if you want to use it to deceive others, you must do it in reverse. This is the difference between ‘cultivating’ and ‘using’. One is for the inside, the other is for the outside.”
“Look—”
Murong Qiushui’s fingers fell on the strings, and she smiled slightly. Her eyes were soft. As she played, Li Guanyi’s eyes widened. He seemed to feel his hair rising slightly, the surrounding environment suddenly changing. He seemed to have arrived in Jiangnan, seeing the willow banks in spring.
He seemed to have arrived in the mountains of Central China, sitting on the highest peak, watching the clouds swirl.
He seemed to have arrived in the north, seeing the clash of swords, the meeting of cavalry. To his left were the low songs of Jiangnan women, to his right were the fast horses galloping across the horizon in the north, the ambition of men, the gentleness of women, the slaughter of swords, the emotions of the world surging like rivers.
He seemed to see the world.
He was lost in thought.
Finally, the qin music ended. Li Guanyi couldn’t recover for a long time.
Until something poked his cheek.
He looked up, Murong Qiushui squatted in front of him with a smile, her finger pointing to Li Guanyi’s brow, softly saying:
“The qin is the sound of the heart, the next sentence is, ‘The heart transforms into the spirit (Shen).’ ”
“Overtones resemble heaven, pressed notes resemble humans, scattered notes resemble the earth.”
“Thus, one can ‘depict the thoughts of human emotion, and reach the principles of the universe’.”
“Thus, the various aspects in my heart fall onto the strings.”
Murong Qiushui stood up, her hands in front of her, a strand of hair slightly raised at her temples, smiling:
“It is heaven and earth, all things.”
………………
When Li Guanyi was stopped.
The Si Ming elder flashed back to his residence. He picked up his pen and wrote letter after letter, briefly describing what had happened here. Then he blew on them, and the letters came alive, fluttering like butterflies, flying into the sky.
The letters flew away by themselves, carried by the wind, faster than a flying eagle.
Yin and Yang Qi closed, invisible to the naked eye.
Those who could see through Si Ming’s methods wouldn’t lower themselves to retrieve the letters.
Si Ming sighed. “There’s the king’s seal, used to refine one’s body.”
“Golden skin and jade bones, dragon tendons and tiger marrow.”
“It requires extremely harsh conditions, often difficult to gather.”
“But coincidentally, this place will become the vortex of the world. In this capital, there are truly old scholars who can calculate the perfect formation, Confucian scholars who can conceal their breakthrough with Qi, and Mohist masters who know how to refine the body. And they will all come to see him.”
“Old friend, I don’t understand.”
The old man closed his eyes, Xuanwu (black tortoise) raised its head.
Si Ming pointed to the sky. “Is it his good luck, that the White Tiger’s destiny swept up the situation?”
“Or are we all here, becoming the situation?”
“Only then is it possible to create a White Tiger Grandmaster who cultivates both internally and externally?”
The long-lived Xuanwu shook its head, slowly saying, “You’ve seen so much, who can say for sure?”
“Before things happen, anything is possible; the world is vast and can be explored. But when you look back later, it’s like there’s only one choice. It’s not really a choice, but just looking back at what has already happened, and there’s no way to change it anymore.”
Si Ming sent out all the letters. He looked at the seal, thought for a moment, put it in his bosom, and went out for a stroll. The old man walked around and went to the tavern, ordered strong liquor. This time he didn’t dilute it, as if he’d forgotten about his previous drinking bout, where he vomited profusely.
Two cups of strong liquor.
The fat shopkeeper, curious, wiped his hands with a rag and chuckled, “Old man, our liquor is quite strong. Would you like some ordinary wine today? I’ll give you a plate of peanuts.”
He was worried that the old man had encountered something.
The elder laughed loudly, “It’s fine. Today, this old man is meeting an old friend.”
“Haven’t seen him in years, I have to have a good drink.”
“Don’t worry, just one cup.”
Seeing the old man say this, the fat shopkeeper agreed, smiling, “Alright then.”
“Meeting an old friend is indeed a good thing.”
Si Ming held a cup of wine, smelled it, and smacked his lips, saying “Good wine,” though it was just liquor made from sweet potatoes. It wasn’t fragrant, only the harshness that burned the throat. People with some money wouldn’t like this kind of wine. Si Ming reached into his bosom and took out the seal.
The old man examined the seal, then suddenly laughed.
He placed the seal in front of him, then put the full cup of liquor in front of the seal.
After a long while, he softly said, “Achai, after all these twists and turns, three hundred years! Your seal is back in my hands.”
“My friend, your ambition, your long dream, is over.”
He raised his cup. His face no longer had its previous ease and arrogance.
Achai.
He was a runaway slave, beaten badly, who encountered a young con artist. Back then, the young slave stared at him like a wolf. The young man looked at feng shui (geomancy) for people, but didn’t even know how to observe Qi. He was beaten black and blue and ended up grabbing a bun.
Back then, the young Si Ming didn’t know what he was thinking. He tore the bun in half and gave half to the young man.
It was as if he had tamed a wolf, but in reality, they became the best of friends.
They traveled across half the world together, but in the end, the dark-skinned boy returned. He started a rebellion in the mines, sweeping across the Western Regions as a slave and unifying the thirty-six tribes.
Now, only remnants of the Tang and Tiele tribes remained of the thirty-six countries.
Si Ming drank the liquor in one gulp.
The liquor was really strong. With just one sip, he was drunk, slumping onto the table.
The wind from Jiangnan blew on his face, as if he was back in his youth, stealing sweet potatoes with that thin boy from the Western Regions.
The wind of his youth came to him again. He was drunk, yet he seemed to wake up in his memories.
He could still see, three hundred years ago, that dark-skinned boy from the Western Regions lying on a haystack, his buttocks and back bleeding from the whiplashes, pointing to the stars, gnashing his teeth:
“I’m going back to the Western Regions. One day, I’ll become the greatest monarch, build a kingdom with my name. You have to come too, brother! I’ll treat you to sweet potatoes. We’ll eat one, throw one away!”
“No one will dare hit me with a whip again!”
“Or you!”
“If anyone hits you, I’ll hit them!”
He picked up the stolen liquor and threw it to the fourteen-year-old con artist next to him.
That boy who made a living conning people with his mouth was still alive after three hundred years.
Si Ming, drunk, raised his cup. He faltered, as if seeing the boy raise his chipped bowl, filled with wine, raising it towards him, grinning, revealing a missing tooth, smiling, “What’s wrong? Aren’t we going to drink?”
“Heh heh, we stole this. It smells good. I’ve never seen this in my hometown. Only the big shots drink this. It’s spicy, it cuts your throat.”
“Hey, Afeng, do heroes like this?”
“If we drink this, can we become heroes?”
Si Ming laughed.
He raised his cup to his friend from his memory.
Then he passed out, the golden seal in his eyes the same as when the elder had personally forged it.
The leaders of the thirty-five tribes were beheaded, their blood falling into the furnace, the flames seeming to be blood-red.
It was he who conducted the forging.
His friend was called Achai, like a jackal on the steppe, despicable, lowly, looked down upon, driven by lions, yet somehow able to survive. He was called Achai, he had his real name, a name that was difficult to pronounce.
Tu Gu Hun.
The greatest hero of the Western Regions in a thousand years.
The fat shopkeeper brought out the peanuts. Seeing the old man lying on the table, already passed out, his white hair dancing in the wind, the fat shopkeeper placed the plate of perfectly cooked peanuts on the table and closed the door for the old man to prevent him from getting a chill. He wondered, “Strange.”
“Didn’t the old man say he was going to drink with a friend?”
“Where’s his friend?”
The old man slept with his eyes closed, muttering in his drunken sleep: “Kingship and hegemony, a laugh in the midst.”
“Life is but a fleeting dream, a single drunken spree.”
The boy in the dream turned his head, his eyes bright.
Too bad.
Of the heroes from three hundred years ago, those who raised their swords for the people, fought against injustice, and tore the world apart, only he remained alive.
……………
It took Li Guanyi a long time to come to his senses. He looked at his aunt and said, “This is…?”
Murong Qiushui smiled gently. “It’s just a little trick. What you learned before was the basics, the first chapter. This is the second to fifth chapters.”
Li Guanyi asked, “How many chapters are there in total?”
Murong Qiushui blinked.
Smiling calmly:
“Before, there were twelve chapters.”
“I’ve been thinking about it for these years.”
“Now, there are fifteen.”
(End of Chapter)
Previous Chapter | TOC | Next Chapter
0 Comments