Originally, this would be considered unsuited to proprieties and rituals, yet no one really tried to take care of this matter because Master Jian — Jian Sizong — whose favorite line for his usual lip-service was “What impropriety!” had been in a pitiful plight with “beaten head and scorched brow(1)” for being denounced due to his very unbecoming conduct.
Regarding these matters, Wu Xi who locked himself up and had little contact with the world obviously was not aware, but Jing Qi who was likewise living in seclusion at home knew very well in his heart.
The sorcerer youth had been quiet, yet there were plenty of people who wanted to fish in troubled waters and made use of the old incident to advance their own ideas. If this group of people who feared that all under heaven was not free from chaos were to line up together, they would be able to circle the capital several times.
There were people who went after and seized Jian Sizong by the throat, criticizing him from his manners and lifestyle to his covert, shady affiliation with the wolf-and-tiger-like kind of people whose hearts were not easy to measure. Of course, everyone knew exactly who this “wolf-and-tiger-like kind of people” was, and if the level went up just a tiny bit higher, the topic would be shifted to that fatherless, kingless “certain someone” who was plotting to conspire and so on. Memorials to the emperor that condemned the First Prince faction thus kept on piling up like fallen snowflakes.
There were also cases where they, while supporting Jian Sizong’s complaints for unjust accusation, took advantage of the situation to publicly condemn witchcraft and demonic art. Then, they went from talking about witchcraft and demonic art to discussing about how the imperial court’s important and high-ranking officials had been keeping Taoist priests at their homes, lending a ready ear to slanders, and searching for elixirs to achieve immortality — who wouldn’t know that He Lianqi’s right-hand man was the Taoist priest with surname Li? For a while, severe criticisms of evil deeds, sorcery, misconduct and so on were flying back-and-forth all over the sky, utterly “delightful” — even the emperor’s desk couldn’t bear the heavy load and was on the verge of collapsing.
1
While the royal court’s atmosphere had been heavy and demoralizing, but to the children who had not yet got their share of these worries, time was passing by particularly fast. The physiques of these teenagers became tall and slender like a tree sprouting its branches; if they were not reading books, they would be sitting there in a daze.
Although Wu Xi lived very close to Jing Qi, there was no frequent contact.
Wu Xi seemed to have an instinctive resistance toward this beautiful and elegant young man, and he always felt as if there was something else hidden behind that smiling face.
Since he had not interacted with many people from Central Plains, he didn’t exactly know what the Central Plains people ought to be like. He just felt that the First Prince who clamoured about wanting to kill himself in the court that day while covering the sky with one hand was alright, and the so-called emperor who didn’t know much was also not bad, or that Master Chen whose speech amidst the clouds and fog and made others wonder what he was thinking about was also whatever; but none of them could make his hair stand on end the same way this Nan Ning Wang person did.
15
At the age of four or five, children in South Xinjiang had already learned how to hunt in the woods with the adult males, as well as basic techniques to protect themselves from various kinds of poisons. At the age of seven or eight, they could follow the adults to go out, and when they reached their teenage years, they were already capable of living independently. They could distinguish whether approaching was a small, huntable animal or a fierce, cruel beast, could see through the camouflage of the most cunning fox, and could instinctively tell where the dangers lay.1
At that moment, Wu Xi’s instincts were telling him not to approach this young man called Jing Beiyuan.
Jing Qi was also unruffled — a relationship between two people depended on fate, and he felt that himself and this child who was almost too unreasonably honest would be better off not bothering each other often. It was only for a few occasions where He Lianyi came to drag them out for a stroll; or if Jing Qi came across some uncommon new toys, he would always order Ping An to deliver his share to Wu Xi’s place, regardless of it being a wolf cub or a bunny, asking him to raise them first and save other matters for later.
Three or four years had already passed in the blink of an eye. Within these years, whoever was frequently coming in and out the sorcerer youth’s place, Jing Qi knew exactly in his heart.
The background of South Xinjiang sorcerer youth being set aside, just the trick that he pulled that year to single-handedly ridicule Jian Sizong in front of the entire court alone was already enough to make him a treasure in He Lianqi’s eyes.
Unfortunately, this Wu Xi belonged to the donkey species; even from the front to the back of his manor, everyone was cast in the same mold. Whether their job was to guard the gate or to protect the compound, each and every single one of these South Xinjiang warriors shared the temper of a donkey; if they looked at someone like an eyesore — who cared about where they came from — they would close the door on the person, throw the line “The master is not seeing visitors” directly at him, and let him be.
As the old saying went, even an angry hand would not hit a smiling face; yet this South Xinjiang sorcerer youth was precisely the type that would hit the face with a smile.
Jing Qi secretly ordered Ping An to find a reliable man to help manage a good number of things on Wu Xi’s behalf. He came from a rather affluent household, plus He Lianpei had been awarding him quite generously. However, none of these monetary matters really concerned him; only Ping An would bitterly complain about it every time.
For a long time, Ping An kept following behind Jing Qi to pout and grumble all day long: “Master, although we have money at our residence, that doesn’t mean we should exhaust it. With wealths and possessions, we ought to manage them even more properly. I haven’t heard of anyone who squanders their money like skimming stones from dawn to dusk like this... “
Holding in his hands the texts of anecdotes from the late dynasty, Jing Qi had heard everything yet did not raise his head. He whispered in a low hum: “Did you hear that noise?”
Ping An said indignantly: “Master, you are raising an ungrateful terror.” By the end of last year, the old butler had officially unloaded all the burdens and responsibilities from his shoulders and asked for permission to return to his hometown for retirement. At this moment, every big and small thing at Nan Ning Wang Residence had been taken care of by Ping An himself. At the beginning, things were rather rough and bumpy for him; miscellaneous matters piled up and threw this young man into a messy plight, beating him black and blue. Everyday he wore two huge, dark circles under his eyes, bearing the resemblance of a dead dog.
Originally, this would be considered unsuited to proprieties and rituals, yet no one really tried to take care of this matter because Master Jian — Jian Sizong — whose favorite line for his usual lip-service was “What impropriety!” had been in a pitiful plight with “beaten head and scorched brow(1)” for being denounced due to his very unbecoming conduct.
Regarding these matters, Wu Xi who locked himself up and had little contact with the world obviously was not aware, but Jing Qi who was likewise living in seclusion at home knew very well in his heart.
The sorcerer youth had been quiet, yet there were plenty of people who wanted to fish in troubled waters and made use of the old incident to advance their own ideas. If this group of people who feared that all under heaven was not free from chaos were to line up together, they would be able to circle the capital several times.
There were people who went after and seized Jian Sizong by the throat, criticizing him from his manners and lifestyle to his covert, shady affiliation with the wolf-and-tiger-like kind of people whose hearts were not easy to measure. Of course, everyone knew exactly who this “wolf-and-tiger-like kind of people” was, and if the level went up just a tiny bit higher, the topic would be shifted to that fatherless, kingless “certain someone” who was plotting to conspire and so on. Memorials to the emperor that condemned the First Prince faction thus kept on piling up like fallen snowflakes.
There were also cases where they, while supporting Jian Sizong’s complaints for unjust accusation, took advantage of the situation to publicly condemn witchcraft and demonic art. Then, they went from talking about witchcraft and demonic art to discussing about how the imperial court’s important and high-ranking officials had been keeping Taoist priests at their homes, lending a ready ear to slanders, and searching for elixirs to achieve immortality — who wouldn’t know that He Lianqi’s right-hand man was the Taoist priest with surname Li? For a while, severe criticisms of evil deeds, sorcery, misconduct and so on were flying back-and-forth all over the sky, utterly “delightful” — even the emperor’s desk couldn’t bear the heavy load and was on the verge of collapsing.
1
While the royal court’s atmosphere had been heavy and demoralizing, but to the children who had not yet got their share of these worries, time was passing by particularly fast. The physiques of these teenagers became tall and slender like a tree sprouting its branches; if they were not reading books, they would be sitting there in a daze.
Although Wu Xi lived very close to Jing Qi, there was no frequent contact.
Wu Xi seemed to have an instinctive resistance toward this beautiful and elegant young man, and he always felt as if there was something else hidden behind that smiling face.
Since he had not interacted with many people from Central Plains, he didn’t exactly know what the Central Plains people ought to be like. He just felt that the First Prince who clamoured about wanting to kill himself in the court that day while covering the sky with one hand was alright, and the so-called emperor who didn’t know much was also not bad, or that Master Chen whose speech amidst the clouds and fog and made others wonder what he was thinking about was also whatever; but none of them could make his hair stand on end the same way this Nan Ning Wang person did.
15
At the age of four or five, children in South Xinjiang had already learned how to hunt in the woods with the adult males, as well as basic techniques to protect themselves from various kinds of poisons. At the age of seven or eight, they could follow the adults to go out, and when they reached their teenage years, they were already capable of living independently. They could distinguish whether approaching was a small, huntable animal or a fierce, cruel beast, could see through the camouflage of the most cunning fox, and could instinctively tell where the dangers lay.1
At that moment, Wu Xi’s instincts were telling him not to approach this young man called Jing Beiyuan.
Jing Qi was also unruffled — a relationship between two people depended on fate, and he felt that himself and this child who was almost too unreasonably honest would be better off not bothering each other often. It was only for a few occasions where He Lianyi came to drag them out for a stroll; or if Jing Qi came across some uncommon new toys, he would always order Ping An to deliver his share to Wu Xi’s place, regardless of it being a wolf cub or a bunny, asking him to raise them first and save other matters for later.
Three or four years had already passed in the blink of an eye. Within these years, whoever was frequently coming in and out the sorcerer youth’s place, Jing Qi knew exactly in his heart.
The background of South Xinjiang sorcerer youth being set aside, just the trick that he pulled that year to single-handedly ridicule Jian Sizong in front of the entire court alone was already enough to make him a treasure in He Lianqi’s eyes.
Unfortunately, this Wu Xi belonged to the donkey species; even from the front to the back of his manor, everyone was cast in the same mold. Whether their job was to guard the gate or to protect the compound, each and every single one of these South Xinjiang warriors shared the temper of a donkey; if they looked at someone like an eyesore — who cared about where they came from — they would close the door on the person, throw the line “The master is not seeing visitors” directly at him, and let him be.
As the old saying went, even an angry hand would not hit a smiling face; yet this South Xinjiang sorcerer youth was precisely the type that would hit the face with a smile.
Jing Qi secretly ordered Ping An to find a reliable man to help manage a good number of things on Wu Xi’s behalf. He came from a rather affluent household, plus He Lianpei had been awarding him quite generously. However, none of these monetary matters really concerned him; only Ping An would bitterly complain about it every time.
For a long time, Ping An kept following behind Jing Qi to pout and grumble all day long: “Master, although we have money at our residence, that doesn’t mean we should exhaust it. With wealths and possessions, we ought to manage them even more properly. I haven’t heard of anyone who squanders their money like skimming stones from dawn to dusk like this... “
Holding in his hands the texts of anecdotes from the late dynasty, Jing Qi had heard everything yet did not raise his head. He whispered in a low hum: “Did you hear that noise?”
Ping An said indignantly: “Master, you are raising an ungrateful terror.” By the end of last year, the old butler had officially unloaded all the burdens and responsibilities from his shoulders and asked for permission to return to his hometown for retirement. At this moment, every big and small thing at Nan Ning Wang Residence had been taken care of by Ping An himself. At the beginning, things were rather rough and bumpy for him; miscellaneous matters piled up and threw this young man into a messy plight, beating him black and blue. Everyday he wore two huge, dark circles under his eyes, bearing the resemblance of a dead dog.
