Chapter Eleven: My Heart Mirrors Yours (Part One)

Sitting in the room, he watched as the candlelight finally burned out. The dawn's glow filtered through the window, illuminating the small chamber and dispelling some of its gloom.

Zheng Yanqing leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the pale window paper, his mind awash with thoughts.

After a night spent in contemplation, he seemed to have grasped the subtle truth within. The King of Han’s efforts to recruit the aristocratic clans of the east stemmed from a deep-seated fear of the future.

Yang Jian had five sons: the crown prince had been deposed, the Prince of Shu, Yang Xiu, imprisoned. All of this, merely to pave the way for Yang Guang’s ascension. Who could say if Yang Liang would be next, especially now that Empress Dugu was gone, making Yang Liang’s apprehension grow ever deeper.

This, Yang Jian may not fully comprehend.

But Yang Jian’s ignorance did not mean Yang Guang or Yang Su did not understand. Yang Jian’s health was failing; Yang Guang’s accession was only a matter of time. Once enthroned, he would need to demonstrate his competence to the world—not only in military affairs, but above all, the aura of imperial authority. Yang Liang’s approach at this moment was a perfect opportunity for Yang Guang. Surely, Yang Guang knew the tale of Duke Zhuang defeating Duan at Yan.

In the Spring and Autumn period, Duke Zhuang of Zheng had a brother, Gongshu Duan, who coveted the throne. Duke Zhuang, aware of Duan’s ambition, did not curb him, but rather indulged him, allowing Duan’s desires to grow unchecked. If, at first, Gongshu Duan merely harbored a notion, Duke Zhuang's indulgence made it clearer, his ambition fiercer, until at last Duan took up arms to seize the throne—only to be crushed in a single stroke.

Zheng Yanqing found Yang Guang and Yang Liang uncannily similar to Duke Zhuang and Gongshu Duan.

Now, Yang Guang was likely seeking to emulate Duke Zhuang, biding his time to deal with Yang Liang. In history, Yang Liang commanded the elite troops of Bingzhou, surrounded by formidable generals and brilliant strategists. Such power, yet Yang Guang defeated him in mere days.

Was it incompetence on Yang Liang’s part?

One must remember that Yang Liang was no novice to war. During the Renshou years, Sui forces campaigned repeatedly against the Turks, and Yang Liang was involved, even serving as Bingzhou’s chief military commander. Command of armies required tactical acumen—no place for the inept.

Thus, the only explanation was that from the day Yang Liang petitioned to strengthen Taiyuan’s defenses, he had already become a piece on Yang Guang’s board.

Such deep calculation, such ruthless stratagem...

Yanqing, though he had yet to meet Yang Guang, could already sense the man’s methods.

It was precisely Yang Guang whom Master Zheng served; knowing Zheng Chang’s true purpose, yet turning a blind eye, likely at Yang Guang’s instruction. Yanqing’s rash action had nearly ruined Yang Guang’s plans. If so, when Yang Guang ascended the throne, he would not spare Master Zheng’s family. Yanqing’s well-meaning intent had nearly caused grave trouble.

Understanding this, Zheng Yanqing felt secretly relieved.

Yet, a trace of sorrow lingered within him, and he found himself missing Duoduo, who had already departed.

In truth, Yanqing and Duoduo were not so distant in age. But within his young body, he bore the soul of four decades—how could he find himself attached to a little girl? The thought struck him as odd.

Could it be he was some strange uncle from legend, with a penchant for young girls?

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In his previous life, he had never shown such inclinations.

Could it be that being reborn had changed even his tastes?

With these thoughts, Zheng Yanqing felt a headache coming on. He threw himself onto the bed, pulled the quilt over his head, and fell into a deep sleep.

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The days passed, one after another.

Zheng Yanqing knew well that Master Zheng’s order to confine him was hardly a punishment. Though the laws since the founding of Sui had grown stricter, the status of servants had not improved much. Yang Jian had tried to change this, even sending Gao Ying to repeatedly survey the population, registering the hidden numbers within noble clans. Yet, after three hundred years of Wei-Jin legacy, even with registration, the position of servants had not risen.

If Master Zheng truly wished to punish Yanqing, there were countless ways—taking his life would not be out of the question.

Yanqing had rashly exposed the Prince of Han, Yang Liang’s secret, which could have disrupted Master Zheng’s plans, or those of his patrons. So, Master Zheng would surely seek remedy, and confining Yanqing was likely to keep him from causing further trouble.

Yanqing did not mind, though he regretted missing the festivities of New Year’s Eve and Spring Festival.

By the post-Wei-Jin era, New Year’s Eve traditions were well established.

Expelling evil, staying up late, and gathering for meals were essential parts of the occasion. Especially the ritual of warding off evil, which was most elaborate.

At this time, people had not yet invented firecrackers; instead, they burned medicinal incense and spices to substitute for fireworks.

Families like the Zhengs, noble and wealthy, would pile firewood high before the hall, placing large quantities of fragrant agarwood roots within. In the courtyard, gigantic candles as thick as a child’s arm would be set up, and when the time came, the firewood and candles would be lit, filling the night with swirling clouds of color, a spectacular sight. Sadly, Yanqing would not be able to witness it...

After New Year’s Eve came the new year.

Ancestral rites were required, and this time, it was not Master Zheng who presided, but Zheng Shanyuan of the Scripture Hall, who opened the ancestral temple for the grand ceremony. All Zheng clan members in Xingyang for the holiday were obliged to attend.

To miss the ancestral rites was, for a Zheng clansman, tantamount to expulsion from the family.

Thus, on that day, everyone in the Zheng household wore splendid broad-collared robes to participate.

At dawn, Zheng Yanqing set out with Zheng Shian, leaving Xingyang behind.

Zheng Renji had sent word that he could not attend the ancestral ceremony, urging Zheng Shian to depart immediately, and arrive early in Luoyang. He would leave Chang’an after the Lantern Festival, but before his arrival, all affairs in Luoyang had to be prepared.

So, Master Zheng excused Zheng Shian from the ancestral ceremony as well.

After New Year’s Eve ended, Zheng Shian, with Zheng Yanqing, departed Xingzhou at dawn, along with the carriage convoy.

Twenty Zheng family warriors and a dozen carriages accompanied them.

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Sitting in the carriage, Zheng Yanqing looked back through the window. The ancient city of Xingyang, bathed in the dawn’s glow, became smaller and smaller, until it faded into a blur. A strange sense of melancholy welled up in his heart. Who knew when he might return again?

In his memory, once chaos began, Xingyang would be the first to suffer.

"Yanqing, what are you thinking about?"

Yanqing had intended to remind Zheng Shian of something, but as the words reached his lips, they changed.

"Grandfather, will I ever see Duoduo again?"

Better to hold back than to be bold.

After the incident with Zheng Chang, Yanqing realized these ancients were not ignorant, but thoughtful and farsighted.

Some things were beyond a child’s power to change.

Rather than always taking the lead, it was better to stay in the middle and hide one’s abilities. If the sky fell, Master Zheng would bear the brunt—it was not Yanqing’s concern. Yet, as soon as he spoke, he felt something was amiss. Why, without reason, was he so attached to Duoduo?

Zheng Shian smiled, "If fate allows, you will meet again. But Duoduo’s background is unusual; next time you meet, recognition may not come so easily."

Yanqing knew that Xu Mama and her daughter’s origins were extraordinary, but not exactly how.

He could not help but ask, "Grandfather, what is Duoduo’s background?"

Zheng Shian shook his head, "I don’t know for certain. You saw it yourself; when the master finished reading the letter that day, he burned it. Such caution only proves that Duoduo’s origins are extraordinary. Yanqing, better to forget than to meet... Perhaps not seeing Duoduo is best for you, for her, and for the Zheng family."

Yanqing fell silent.

He understood Zheng Shian’s meaning, yet in his mind, Duoduo’s radiant smile kept appearing, unbidden.

Better to forget than to meet?

If he were truly an ignorant child, perhaps he could let go. But, given his circumstances... how could he ever truly forget?

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First chapter, asking for your recommendations and bookmarks!

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