Spring Remains the Same - Chapter 49

The old Chancellor was a pillar of the Zhou Dynasty, dedicating his entire life’s effort to the House of Zhou. Unfortunately, the Zhou Emperor was incompetent, and a single pillar could not support the falling structure. After the old Chancellor’s passing, the Xiao clan’s ambition grew, and they acted without restraint. Only Grand Marshal Zhong Rong, stationed at the border with a massive army, could offer some resistance.

In the final years of the previous dynasty, the Grand Marshal received an imperial edict to return to the capital. He was ambushed by mountain bandits on his journey, and his entire family perished. A few days later, as if inspired by this event, the Zhou Emperor’s uncle, the Prince of Jiaodong, raised troops in the capital to intercept and assassinate Xiao Yi. Unfortunately, he could only muster two or three hundred men at most. The rebellion was quickly crushed, but a group of people used the chaos to rush into the Grand Marshal’s residence, slaughtering Zhong Rong’s mother, brothers, sons, and nephews. Not even the servants were spared. Afterward, the court explained that this was the work of the Prince of Jiaodong’s rebellious soldiers.

But how could mere mountain bandits defeat the elite soldiers and skilled generals protecting the Grand Marshal? The Prince of Jiaodong had only two or three hundred men in total; how could he have spared troops to massacre an entire household? And what deep-seated hatred would compel him to annihilate a whole family?

The high officials in the court knew the truth in their hearts. But how many dared to speak of it?

Chen Du dared. He was proud and upright, his character forthright and unyielding. But at the time, he was merely a youth of fifteen or sixteen. What could he have accomplished?

Now, nearly twenty years later, the proud and outspoken young man had been worn down by the world. He remained behind closed doors all day, guarding a loyalty that was gradually being forgotten by the world.

But Wei Xiu remembered him. She remembered the sight of him in armor, holding a long spear. She remembered him riding alongside his elder brother, as if he were born to gallop on the battlefield. He had inherited his grandfather’s aspirations, diligently studying military texts and fighting on the front lines, all for the day he could lead a great army south to unify the nine provinces.

His bl00d was hot, unchilled by the years. He did not belong in a dark room, in desolate silence.

Wei Xiu glanced around. On a desk not far away lay a book, face down. The host must have been reading it before her arrival and casually set it down to receive his guest. The cover bore the four characters “Six Secret Teachings on Military Strategy.” When they met Wei Xiu’s eyes, she felt a long-absent warmth.

Some people never change.

Chen Du noticed her gaze fixed on a certain spot. He followed her line of sight, saw the book, and made no effort to hide it. He stood, walked over, and picked it up. “Does Sir Wei read military texts?”

“I do,” Wei Xiu replied. “This very book, the《Six Secret Teachings on Military Strategy》, was my first introduction to the subject. However, I have only dabbled, whereas Master Chen has likely committed it to heart.”

His fondness for military affairs was widely known. Chen Du did not deny it. He closed the book, his broad palm resting on the cover. “From your discourse on relocating the Rong, I can tell it is more than a mere dalliance. You are very familiar with the Liangzhou region.”

“Without personal experience, how could one write an article with any substance?”

Chen Du sized her up, his gaze lingering on her legs before slowly moving up to meet her eyes. “That region is difficult to traverse. To have a thorough grasp of the local customs, traditions, terrain, and strategic points must have taken a great deal of time. Your will is truly firm. It must have been arduous. However, there is one thing I do not understand. The world is vast, its mountains and rivers magnificent, and not just in Liangzhou. The court’s military concerns are not focused on Liangzhou either. Why did you fixate on that particular place and produce your treatise at just the right moment to move the sovereign and win fame throughout the land?”

Chen Du smiled, a sound that could have been either a sigh or a sneer. “Master Wei is truly a master of calculation, having foreseen today’s events years ago. I imagine that if it hadn’t been the Princess, it would have been someone else. You had long prepared this discourse as your stepping stone to power.”

Though he lived in a humble dwelling, he saw the state of the world with perfect clarity. It was hard to say whether one should praise his sharp insight or lament that he had exiled himself from the court while still carrying the world in his heart.

“In this life, one must do something to make it worthwhile,” Wei Xiu said, not denying his accusation. “One cannot be like you, sir, clearly possessing the ability to bring clarity to the world, yet hiding away and wasting all you have learned.”

Chen Du chuckled. “You are not wrong. One who is blessed with talent should indeed use it to benefit the common people.”

The Wei Dynasty’s claim to power was illegitimate; he was ashamed to associate with such a ruler and his ministers. But he did not impose his standards on others. Over the years, he had learned to be more temperate, at least on the surface. He appeared much more tolerant and easygoing.

“Your discourse on relocating the Rong is well-written. Your perspective is unique and cuts straight to the point. I hope this time, the Qiang and Rong can be properly settled, ceasing hostilities, preventing disaster, and sparing the people from suffering.”

Wei Xiu then asked with a smile, “If you carry the people in your heart, why bury yourself in this humble room?”

“The moral climate of the world is poor. I have a sharp tongue and fear I might offend people,” Chen Du said evasively, turning his face away, unwilling to elaborate.

Wei Xiu hadn’t expected to persuade him in a single visit. She wasn’t anxious. She poured him tea, her demeanor leisurely and composed. “The person on the throne has changed, but the world is still the same world, and the people are still the same people. If you can see past it, all is well. If you cannot, you will be consumed by frustration and resentment.”

“It has been many years since I’ve heard such words,” Chen Du said with a laugh.

In the past, people often tried to persuade him with similar arguments. Now, either he had cut ties with them, or they had cut ties with him. In any case, they no longer associated with one another.

Chen Du felt a sense of affinity for Wei Xiu because of her appearance and a sense of appreciation for her talent. He thus asked, “You say the people are still the same people. When you were traveling through Liangzhou and writing that masterpiece, were you thinking of the people, or were you thinking of using it to advance your career and seek fame and fortune?”

Wei Xiu said, “Neither.” She had no mind for the common people, nor for fame and fortune. In her eyes, both were as nothing.

Chen Du was taken aback. “Then was it to realize your ambitions?”

Wei Xiu smiled but said nothing.

Chen Du hesitated, looking at her in contemplation for a moment. He then rose, went to his desk, and found the copy of the 《Discourse on Relocating the Rong Tribes》 that he had studied for days. He brought it before Wei Xiu, pointed at the text, and analyzed it word by word. “I have read this many times. It seems to have been polished by someone.”

“It was,” Wei Xiu admitted freely. The Princess had revised a few places for her.

“A perfect complement,” Chen Du commented. He stroked his beard. “But it still cannot change the cold indifference between your lines.”

Wei Xiu frowned slightly and looked up at him. Chen Du’s expression was serious. “A work that discusses matters on their own merit is indeed bound to lack sentimentality. But an essay reveals one’s aspirations; the author’s emotions are contained within. In your heart, there are no common people. You didn’t even write a single sentence about how the chaos of the Qiang and Rong brings disaster upon the populace. If, as you say, it was not for fame, fortune, or ambition, then I truly cannot imagine what it was for.”

Unlike the Emperor or the Princess, Chen Du was closer to the common folk. He understood the hardships of the people better and was more sentimental. This was likely why he had been unable to come to terms with things all these years and refused to serve the Wei.

Wei Xiu had come with the intention of moving him, but she hadn’t expected to be lectured by him instead. For a moment, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “As for my reasons, once we know each other better, you will naturally understand, sir. I came here because you and I share the same ideals.”

Perhaps because he had been persuaded too many times and had heard every possible argument, Chen Du showed no reaction to the phrase “share the same ideals.” He continued to advise Wei Xiu, “If you keep some benevolence and compassion in your heart, life will not be so bitter. Do you know why I am unwilling to serve Wei, yet do not defect to Qi or Song?”

Defecting to Qi or Song might not guarantee the unification of the nine provinces, but it was certainly better than languishing in obscurity in this humble room.

Wei Xiu said, “For the sake of the people you speak of?”

“Correct. This is my homeland, and the people here are my countrymen. I could defect to Qi or Song, but then I would have to turn around and plot against my native land. Bl00d would flow like rivers, and my heart would not be at peace. So, could I raise an army within the country?” Chen Du proposed a second scenario, not waiting for Wei Xiu’s answer as he continued on his own. “My ancestor was the Chancellor. His students and former subordinates are scattered across the realm. There must be others like me. If not, I could entice them with profit. If Xiao Yi could transform from a subject into a sovereign, why can’t others? Looking at his governance these years, isn’t he also guarding against this very thing? Even if I could not succeed, even if I could not drag him from the throne, I could at least, with this pent-up frustration, throw the country into chaos. By giving my all, I could at least awaken the old officials of Zhou. It has been less than twenty years since the fall of the dynasty; the old ministers are not all dead yet, and the Prince of Runan is still alive. Don’t you agree? In your view, acting in such a way would be, at the very least, noble and heroic, far better than this current existence that is no different from being dead. Am I right?”

Wei Xiu frowned. She did indeed think so. What was the use of hiding in a dark room, complaining that the world was unjust and that people were not what they used to be? Only by taking action was there hope for change. Complaining changed nothing.

Seeing her expression, Chen Du gave a slight smile. “And what then? What happens after raising an army? The fortune of the House of Zhou is exhausted. Even if the Prince of Runan were restored, imperial power would likely fall into other hands. One Wei is gone, only to be replaced by another. What is the benefit of this endless cycle? It is still the people who suffer, still the people who bleed. The Wei Dynasty has been established for over a decade, and the people of the north have had over a decade of peace. It was not easily won. How can I, simply because I cannot stand the sight of it, sacrifice their lives? In that, how would I be any different from Xiao Yi? How would I be any different from the high officials at court who betrayed their former lord?”

And what of those who had died? The loyal and heroic souls who died for Zhou, had they shed their bl00d in vain? The main culprit sat high on the throne, occupying the land, his descendants enjoying power and glory for generations. Did the bl00d staining their hands not need to be repaid?

Others could righteously proclaim the hardships of the people, but Wei Xiu could not. She had witnessed it with her own eyes—in a single night, both her parents were gone. She dared not forget for a single moment her brother’s last words: “Avenge us.” The lives of the common people were lives, but were the lives of nobles and generals not? Just because they held high positions, were they to die in vain?

Wei Xiu’s smile grew ever more gentle. Her character was resilient, her manner elegant and ethereal. After listening to Chen Du’s long speech, she said lightly, “You have already accepted an official post. You are already a minister of Wei. How can you say you are unwilling to serve Wei?”

“I am not.”

Wei Xiu looked at him. “How are you not? Compiler in the Chongwen Institute—a prestigious and scholarly position. Is that not an official post of the Wei state?”

Chen Du closed his eyes, turned his head away, and repeated, “I am not!”

“You speak constantly of serving the people and the country, yet you cower here, offering no strategies to strengthen the nation, doing nothing to benefit the people. Your words and actions contradict each other. You eat the grain of Wei yet deny being a minister of Wei. Do you truly know what you want?” Wei Xiu pressed again.

Willingly or not, he had accepted the post. Whether he used the salary himself or not, the court had given it.

“You are unwilling to drift with the current, yet you have become a two-faced hypocrite. Your words are noble and righteous, your actions weak and escapist. Who are you trying to convince?”

Chen Du’s eyes snapped open. His gaze toward Wei Xiu was like a shot arrow, a cutting blade. Wei Xiu continued, “The old Chancellor named you Du. Now, I do not expect Master Chen to ferry across the river, I only hope Master Chen can deliver himself, and stop deceiving yourself.”

Chen Du shouted, “I have never deceived myself!” As if rousing the pride in his heart, he stared at Wei Xiu, enunciating each word through gritted teeth, “I cannot bear to see the people suffer, nor am I willing to be a running dog for Wei! I have no way to satisfy both, so I can only cower here. At least, my conscience is clear! And you? I do not know what you strive for if not for fame or fortune, but you have no benevolence or compassion in your heart. In the end, you will gain nothing and be filled with regret!”

They parted on bad terms.

When Wei Xiu emerged from the dark room, the sunlight outside was blinding. As it hit her, she suddenly felt dizzy.

After leaving the Chen residence, the group walked back in silence. They had only taken two steps when A Rong called out, “Sir.”

Wei Xiu looked up at her and saw she was looking behind them. Wei Xiu followed her gaze.

A wild-looking scholar spat toward Chen Du’s gate and cursed loudly, “Seeking fame and praise through false pretenses!” Then he flung his sleeves and stormed off.

Wei Xiu gave a cold laugh. “Ah, people. Their favorite thing is to demand that others do what they themselves cannot.”

A Rong was silent.

The group continued onward. After a long while, Wei Xiu sighed and said, “We will not come here again.”

A Rong was puzzled. She had heard the entire conversation. Although Chen Du was insistent, he was not without his vulnerabilities. The more one’s resolve wavers, the more one shouts. The more steadfast one is, the more one handles things with ease. Chen Du had been shouting to bolster his courage; he was not immovable. Why give up now? “Sir, you were clearly able to awaken him. Why stop halfway?”

Wei Xiu looked up at the sky. It was clear and cloudless for ten thousand miles. Her gaze was distant, and a faint smile gradually appeared on her lips. “He has always been awake.”

The one who refused to wake up was her.

Upon returning to the small courtyard, Wei Xiu sat alone in her bedchamber.

Before her lay a bronze mirror, face down on the desk. The doors and windows were shut tight, blocking out the glaring sunlight, but it still stubbornly pierced through the window paper, giving the dark room a little light.

Wei Xiu reached out and touched the bronze mirror. She gripped its edge and flipped it over. Her hand trembled uncontrollably, and the mirror in her hand suddenly felt as heavy as a mountain. She saw herself in the mirror. Both she and her brother resembled their mother. When she was young, people often said she looked like her brother. Wei Xiu twitched her brow. Her long eyebrows arched, making her appear even more handsome and bright. If only she were a bit more spirited, with the vigor of a young man, she would probably be almost identical to her brother.

If he were still alive, what would he look like now? He shouldn’t have remained forever fifteen, full of youthful vigor, forever frozen in that spring day no matter how many years passed. He should have grown up, weathered storms, endured trials, and step by step become a great man, steady and responsible, sheltering his wife and children, charging into battle for his family and country.

But all of this had become an extravagant hope. He hadn’t even left behind a complete corpse!

Grief and sorrow seeped from Wei Xiu’s heart, strand by strand, gnawing at it like insects. Chen Du’s words echoed in her ears, every single one. But the hatred from the annihilation of her family… who could let it go?

Wei Xiu’s heart was filled with sorrow. She was holding on all by herself, not knowing how much farther the road ahead was, nor whether she could succeed. But she had no path of retreat.

She lowered her head and saw her own legs, neatly covered by the hem of her robe, looking no different from a normal person’s. But she could never walk.

Suddenly, as if possessed, she tossed the bronze mirror aside, planted her hands on the desk, and gritted her teeth. She strained with all her might, trying to use her legs, trying to stand up, trying to taste the feeling of walking on her own two feet.

The entire weight of her body poured into her arms. Her legs had no strength at all. Her body slowly lifted, leaving the wheelchair. Still, there was no strength in her legs. Wei Xiu grabbed a nearby cane to support her body. Then she took a step, just a tiny one, and then let her body’s weight lean forward, mimicking the motion of walking. Slowly, she let go of the cane. Wei Xiu held her breath. Her head was covered in sweat, her focus entirely on her feet. But in the next instant, her body pitched forward, and she tumbled to the ground with a heavy thud.

The sound of the door opening rang out abruptly, and someone walked in with hurried steps.

Wei Xiu panicked. She turned her head quickly, desperately trying to get up, not wanting anyone to see her in this wretched state. But she couldn’t stand up. It was simply impossible for her to stand up.

The wheelchair was not far away, just within arm’s reach. She crawled toward it, but she couldn’t reach it no matter how she tried.

The footsteps drew nearer. Wei Xiu wanted to compose herself, but how could she be composed?

Someone behind her sighed.

Wei Xiu closed her eyes, her heart sinking into an abyss. The one person she least wanted to see at this moment had just arrived by her side.

A pair of hands encircled her body, lifting her with ease.