Chapter 29

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The most prosperous place in Song Garden is not Lanyue Pavilion, but it is quiet and located on the small island. If the number of people is estimated to be about the same, Sheng Chengxing will order the suspension of boats so that everyone can have fun without being overcrowded—just the right atmosphere.

The few of them accompanied Su Huaijing to go wash Rong Tang’s hands, strolled around twice, and then sought a peach blossom tree in the open before sitting down below it.

Rong Tang notices that Ke Hongxue is also with them and asks, “Don’t you want to listen to the opera?”

Ke Hongxue waves his fan and casually picks up the wine bottle that is placed at the side. He wiped the spout with his sleeve, poured a glass for himself and Mu Jingxu, and replied prosaically: “I initially thought they were going to perform “Mr. Shen Qing Seeks Justice.” Who would’ve guessed that Sheng Chengxing, having run to such a remote place as Song Garden to have theatre on the water, would be still performing those old-fashioned stories of gifted scholars and beautiful ladies viewing each other from a distance over the wall? Those aren’t interesting at all. If I had known this, I might as well get him some opera notes.”

Rong Tang’s eyebrows twitched when he heard this, and he subconsciously glanced at Su Huaijing, only to see that his eyebrows were slightly raised, as if he were a little interested: “Mr. Shen Qing? Isn’t that the protagonist of the novel whose parents were wronged, his property unjustly confiscated, and he was sent to live in a brothel?”

Rong Tang detected alarm bells ringing in his heart and tensed up all over. He gazed automatically shifted to Ke Hongxue, trying to prevent him from saying something that could bring forth his death at any time.

But evidently, Ke Hongxue didn’t meet his gaze. His eyes lit up, and he straightened, restrained some of his undisciplined libertine energy, and stared at Su Huaijing as if he’d come across a close friend. He even began to speak much faster: “That’s the one. Mr. Su has also read that book?”

It isn’t suitable for Rong Tang to be drinking, so Su Huaijing confiscates the wine glass in front of him, replacing it with a plate of cashew nuts, and says with a warm smile, “Tangtang has told me about it.”

Ke Hongxue’s eyes immediately swung to Rong Tang again, and he couldn’t conceal the excitement on his face. He supported one hand on the blanket he was sitting on, leaned forward, and said with a smile, “Prince, I told you we’re brought together by fate.”

Rong Tang’s anxiousness about the possibility of Su Huaijing questioning further dissipated. But before he could completely relax, he saw Ke Hongxue’s expression, and he said unhappily, “Ill-fated.”

It’s fine to mention anything about the script, let alone whether Sheng Chengxing is far from where some laws cannot reach; there are still many high-born ladies on the island. When there is a script produced such as this and filled with love scenes, even if it is adapted, to what extent can it be adapted into a stage opera?

It’s alright to discuss it in private, but in public, there are those with loose tongues. Does Ke Hongxue bear any slight resemblance to someone that others would look up to?

Rong Tang inwardly curses and glares at him again, but Ke Hongxue is neither angry nor annoyed. What emerges is just tactful discernment. He seems to realise Rong Tang doesn’t want to talk about this in detail. After saying that they were fated, he steps back and doesn’t pursue further.

Su Huaijing’s gaze revolves between the two of them, and ultimately, it lands naturally on Rong Tang’s slightly irate and flushed face. He lowers his head and chuckles twice, then peels a tangerine for him before handing it over. It really comes off as though he’s feeding a small animal, which is most satisfying.

A low table with brushes and ink is prepared under the tree. From beginning to end, Rong Tang’s justification is simple—he’s never attended school and can’t compose poems. Su Huaijing also learned from him. Fortunately, Mu Jingxu had no intention of forcing the two of them to participate in poetry writing.

Strictly speaking, forming a team with them is more about feeling them out.

From Sheng Chengli’s probing to Lu Jiaxi’s, Rong Tang isn’t 100% sure what kind of outcome they wanted to get out of it, but the only thing he is certain of is that Mu Jingxu and Ke Hongxue have no ill intentions.

As for the others, Rong Tangs is too lazy to ask. After all, they are being tested by them, and Su Huaijing is likewise testing them. They are all humans, and advocate that no one should take advantage of anyone either way.

The warm sun rises early during the fourth month, and the clouds are scattered in the sky. Rong Tang sits under the tree for a while, then leans back to squint up at the birds and clouds above.

From time to time, the sounds of opera singing can still be heard from within Lanyue Pavilion. Everywhere, people in groups of two or three are laughing, singing, or drinking together. As the warm wind breezes past, everything is gloriously peaceful in contrast with the human world.

After two cups of wine, Lu Jiaxi’s face is a little flushed. Pieces of cut grass are stuck on his blue scholar’s robe, and the brim of his hat is askew. He murmurs, “Fish tails are found in the turbid water; there are no luxuriant trees in the soil. Political turmoil causes unhappiness among the people. With such spring sights and scenery and the vastness of the country, isn’t it the world of benevolence and righteousness that the teacher speaks of in school…”

His voice is very soft, and his tone bears hints of unnoticeable yearning. Rong Tang frowned slightly and didn’t respond immediately. Mu Jingxu is still writing poems, while Su Huaijing didn’t even raise his eyebrows. There’s only a barely visible smile on his lips, which is distinctly sarcastic.

Ke Hongxue has already abandoned all restraint and is lying on the ground. He laughed out loud after hearing the words, upended the wine up into his mouth, drinking everything in one gulp, and asked with a smile, “What Junior means to say is that being at the flower-picking festival now, you see learned scholars singing and making friends, and you notice officials and academy members chatting while coming and going. You also see a myriad of flowers in bloom, birds and fish are constantly darting here and there. You sense that when politics aren’t a bother, there will be happy people. Dayu is a prosperous setting, and the future is bright?”

Lu Jiaxi prevaricates for a moment, realises his slip of tongue, and says, “Senior, please advise.”

Ke Hongxue chuckles: “I wouldn’t presume.”

His eyes wandered over to Rong Tang and his partner, then he stole a quick glance at Mu Jingxu before retrieving it. He casually picks up a fallen petal from the ground and rubs it gently, letting the essence from the flower dye his fingertips red. As he observes the bright red spot, he says, “With the prosperity you see here, there’s decay elsewhere. With the free and easy music you hear on the high platform here, there are homeless, starving people everywhere… You are in a banquet hosted by the princes and nobles; all around you are children of rich families with high positions associating with each other who do not care about the suffering of the people. Where can you see the hardworking masses from the northwest or southeast who suffer from drought, floods, famine, and bandits every year?”

“It’s merely a banquet held by the Prince to mark his leaving the palace and for him to make friends. In order to show his kindness, His Majesty even approved holidays for some civil servants. What you see are the names you heard in school appearing before you, laughing, chatting, and drinking, hiking hills to write poems. I’m incredibly furious. What I see, once these seven absurd days are over, is an exhausted figure behind the paperwork and an unjust verdict in prison.”

Ke Hongxue pauses for a moment, puts his hand down, and looks sharply at Lu Jiaxi: “Junior, since you have the courage to sue Ding Laibao to the capital’s magistrate office, how can you be fooled by such a layer of superficial appearance? You’d actually say, “Political turmoil causes unhappiness in the people” like this…” He seemed to consider his choice of words and smiled: “More false and empty words?”

Lu Jiaxi is stunned, and his gaze moves from Ke Hongxue’s face back to the island in the middle of the lake.

The almond blossom grove is fragrant, and there are pebbled paths everywhere. Each stone is smooth, round and has clearly been polished. The sounds of opera singing is unparalleled, emanating from the open doors of Lanyue Pavilion, practically allowing everyone on the island to hear the dreams and mirages of this place.

Lu Jiaxi seemed to have sobered up. He stood up upright, straightened his hat, and respectfully thanked Ke Hongxue: “Thank you, Senior, for your advice.”

Ke Hongxue didn’t respond. He casually grabs a pebble and flings it towards the sky.

Rong Tang can tell that he is in a bad mood, but he doesn’t intend to wade into these muddy waters. Su Huaijing suddenly chuckles and says, “This subordinate is unclear on a matter. Could I ask Tutor Ke to clarify it?”

Ke Hongxue panics a little, and the expression on his face instantly changes from indolence to enthusiasm. He pushes up from the ground and looks at Su Huaijing with his pair of bright peach blossom eyes. “Sir, please speak.”

“When I was a child, I stayed with my uncle’s family and never had the opportunity to go to school. However, I’ve listened when my cousins read. I vaguely remember that there seem to be a few more sentences before Mr. Lu’s words just now.” He slowly recites aloud, with a calm and engaging tone, “Born for the myriad people, the ruler stands as their heaven. Just as heaven nurtures all things, the ruler, in turn, governs with the foundation of balancing yin and yang. Guiding the people involves focusing on governance and education. Therefore, if the seasons of cold and heat are not consistent, diseases will arise; if the winds and rains are irregular, there will be famine over the years. Punishments and penalties represent the cold and heat experienced by the people; teachings and regulations signify the winds and rains governing the people. If punishments and penalties are not timely, the people will suffer; if teachings and regulations are not orderly, customs will become corrupt.”

Su Huaijing said: “This article should be about the ruler loving the people and the ruler being the heaven for the people. But as I observe, I have a question about it.”

Rong Tang is stunned for a moment and turns to look at Su Huaijing, inexplicably guessing the question he wants to ask.

Ke Hongxue said, “Please speak.”

Su Huaijing asks: “Does a ruler have to love his people?”

[Oh——Huo——] The system releases a long-awaited sigh.

Rong Tang sighs silently to himself. He isn’t surprised that Su Huaijing would ask this question. He just wonders whether Su Huaijing suddenly thought of this question or whether there was already meaning in Lu Jiaxi’s words earlier that has led him here.

Ke Hongxue is obviously confused in that moment, as if he hadn’t expected that the last question Su Huaijing asked was such a proposition. Even Mu Jingxu’s brush has paused, causing a dot of ink to appear on the Xuan paper.

Ke Hongxue asks back, “What makes Sir ask this?”

Su Huaijing smiles and says, “If the ruler is seen to have abandoned the people, if the people do not believe in their ruler, does the ruler still need to love his people?”

His voice is very soft, and he even picks up a green dumpling for Rong Tang, placing it on a small plate and coaxing him to eat. It seems like he is merely asking casually, having no thought or change with regards to the answer to the question.

Ke Hongxue frowns a little, ponders for a moment, and asks, “If the ruler is seen to have abandoned the people, has a ruler ever abandoned his people?”

Su Huaijing shakes his head. “Never.”

Ke Hongxue asked again: “If the people don’t believe in their ruler, have the people ever listened to rumours?”

Su Huaijing nodded. “Perhaps.”

Ke Hongxue’s brows relax. He picks up the wine cup with a smile, bends down to tap the one Su Huaijing has placed on the blanket, and says with a smile, “If this is the case, believing that the world is vast, those serving the ruler need not be confined and can roam freely.”

“Is that right?” Su Huaijing smiles lightly and lowers his gaze without saying a word.

Rong Tang looks at him, knowing in his heart that he still has one last question he doesn’t wish to ask.

——If there are both, can the ruler betray his people, abandon his people, destroy his people, or even kill his people?

The late emperor’s posthumous title is known as “slayer”.

Brutal and inhumane acts are known as “slaying”, killing innocent people is known as “slaying”.

During the twenty-five years of the late emperor’s reign, Dayu had became increasingly prosperous, with fewer wars and active trade. However, nine years have passed, and now the people of Dayu can only think of the word “slayer” when mentioning the late emperor.

He was said to be muddle-headed and tyrannical, autocratic and domineering, extremely ignorant, and indulging his relatives to control the court, leading to troubles domestically and abroad. Dayu almost became a ruined country, with its people in dire straits.

Fortunately…

Fortunately, the current emperor did his utmost to remedy a desperate crisis and save everything from collapse.

For someone whose every aspect and action had nothing to do with the two words “ren shou”* to be called Emperor Renshou, Rong Tang felt it was extremely ironic.

(*TN: ren: benevolent, shou: life/longevity)

He’s lost his appetite and feels a bit chilled by the breeze from the lake, so he presses his body against Su Huaijing’s side.

Su Huaijing immediately noticed the signs and frowned slightly. “Cold?”

Rong Tang is dazed for a moment and nods honestly, “A little.”

“Then let’s go back and find a storybook for you to read.” Su Huaijing says, standing up. He bends down to pull Rong Tang up, and he bids the three of them a cursory goodbye before heading for the ferry.

Before leaving, Rong Tang looked over to see that Mu Jingxu’s poem wasn’t finished, and he’d stopped writing.

The amusements on the island at the centre of the lake no longer have anything to do with Rong Tang. He and Su Huaijing slowly make their way back to the small courtyard with the red-painted loft. When they passed a corner, Su Huaijing told him to stand there and wait.

Rong Tang waits quietly for him, falling into a long silence with the system.

Truth be told, he has no objective in this life. If he actually wanted to produce an objective, it would only be that he could have interacted with Su Huaijing in his previous two lives and didn’t want him to endure such suffering.

But after spending the past two months together, Rong Tang feels like he’s returned to a good point in time.

The main villain hasn’t completely darkened, and he still doesn’t resemble the tyrant who will plunge the entire Dayu into a raging war many years later.

Rong Tang can’t become the saviour of the world; but he at least wants to save Su Huaijing.

After two failed missions, the system traced the plot to arrive at the conclusion that the male protagonist died and Su Huaijing disappeared.

Rong Tang has never thought about it before, but now he can’t help but be curious.

The main villain, who’s been dormant for more than ten years, finally sits on the throne… What exactly is going through his mind when he sees that the whole world is about to be burned to the ground?

Is it delight or resentment?

Does he hate that the people his father cherished and protected call him “slayer” without asking the cause? Does he hate that the city that his Crown Prince gege protected with his life does not remember his name? Does he hate that his fourteen-year-old jie, who was as beautiful as a flower, jumped off the city wall to die for her country, only for a passing rebel to lift the edge of her skirts with his spear? Does he hate his san ge for giving him a dream of him of never returning before he’d left?

If he is delighted, then there’s nothing to say.

What if, in actual fact, he’s unhappy?

What if, after taking revenge on the whole world, he doesn’t feel happy?

Then what else can he do for him?

Rong Tang is caught up in bewilderment, staring blankly at a purple-white rose that has managed to climb half of the wall before him. It wasn’t until he heard footsteps approaching from behind that he came to his senses.

Rong Tang blinked slightly and turned around.

Su Huaijing walks out from the corner, holding two peonies in his hands. They were in perfect bloom —not subdued and not full blossom. They’re just in time for them to be admired and suitable to be kept in a basin filled with clear water while waiting for them to quietly bloom.

Su Huaijing held the flowers in one hand and came over to hold Rong Tang with his other. As they face the noon sunshine of the fourth month, he walks towards a place with a warm smile: “I thought this flower suited you when I came here before. Tangtang is so lucky. Are you going to reward me by reading storybooks with them today?”

The young man is acting flirty. Rong Tang had previously mentioned the letter, and he responded with a sentence in the letter. For a moment, he can’t tell whether the person who’d written that sentence was more flirty or whether the person who’s holding flowers and looking for an advantage is more… cuter.

The season of spring is passing by, and as a result, Rong Tang suddenly realises that none of the miseries of the world he’d just thought of have ever come to pass.

The author has something to say:

Note: “All people are born under heaven, and a ruler emerges among them. The ruler is the guiding force for the people. The nurturing of all things by heaven is based on the regulation of yin and yang; the ruler’s transformation of the people is centred on governance and education. If the cold and heat are not regular, diseases may arise; if the wind and rain are not timely, there will be famine in the year. The punishments are like the cold and heat for the people; the teachings and commands are like the wind and rain for the people. If punishments are not timely, the people suffer; if teachings and commands are not regulated, rigidity and customs become corrupted. Hence, in muddy waters, there are no fish with clear tails; in fertile soil, there are no flourishing trees with thin branches. In a government burdened with complexities, there are no people enjoying leisure and happiness.” From “Liu Zi·Volume 3·Love the People”. What the author was thinking when he wrote this chapter “be like”: Oops, it seems like I need to use my brain now (I touched it uneasily, ah – it’s still CP brain, I’m relieved~~~OvO).

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