TO OBTAIN A MOMENT OF JOY, one needed to endure ten times as much suffering. And if one had experienced joy already, suffering was then levied tenfold.
Xie Jinglan had long understood that principle, but he'd never expected the heavens to be so harsh.
Standing at the courtyard entrance, he watched Xiahou Lian carry a bundle on his back, a burly man beside him. That man was tall, with a broad face and dark skin. Despite the cold weather, he'd rolled his sleeves up to reveal two muscular arms. He seemed awkward, unsure of where to place his hands; even Xiahou Lian looked more dignified. The man glanced around; seeing Xie Jinglan, he turned to Aunt Lan and asked, "Who's this?"
Aunt Lan, who had been quietly weeping, quickly wiped her tears and bowed. "Shaoye. Xiahou Lian's father has come to take him home."
The man laughed heartily. "So this is your shaoye."
He pulled from his pocket a packet of pine-nut candies wrapped in oil paper and offered it to Xie Jinglan. "I am Xiahou Lian's father. I apologize for any trouble he might've caused during his stay. I had no choice but to sell him to the manor—our family's harvest failed, and my wife had just given birth to a child. Fortunately, things are better now, so I rushed here to reclaim him. He's a lucky boy. I hear that an official has already repaid you for him, so I'll be taking him away now. Is there anything else the shaoye needs?"
Xiahou Lian and his "father" clearly hadn't coordinated their stories; their explanations were completely different. Xiahou Lian looked somewhat chagrined, but Xie Jinglan ignored the man and just asked Xiahou Lian, "Are you leaving?"
"Yes, I'm leaving."
The man tucked the candies away awkwardly, then stood with his arms crossed, waiting for the pair to finish their conversation.
"Did you pack everything?"
"I did."
"If I write to you, where should I send the letter?"
Xiahou Lian looked at Uncle Duan. This kid's a real pain, thought Uncle Duan, feeling a headache coming on. He forced a smile. "That'll be a bit tricky. Our little corner of the world is too remote to receive mail."
Xie Jinglan had already guessed that this man wouldn't let him stay in touch with Xiahou Lian. Not pressing further, he simply said, "If you want to write to me, send the letter to Lord Su's residence. He'll forward it to Xiansheng."
"All right. Just don't complain about my terrible penmanship."
"Well, you should get going. Safe travels."
Xiahou Lian hesitated for a moment, then said, "About Lianxiang—"
"I saw her mother taking away her body with my own eyes. You don't need to worry."
In the end, Xiahou Lian had decided against telling Xie Jinglan that Lianxiang was alive. After all, if he revealed that Lianxiang had survived, it was sure to implicate Qiu Ye. He fell silent for a while, then said, "Shaoye, your father..." His eyes flickered.
At a glance, Xie Jinglan could tell that something was going on. "There's nothing you need to tell me," he said. "My father has nothing to do with me anymore."
"I understand." Xiahou Lian patted Xie Jinglan's shoulder. "Then I'll be on my way."
"Until we meet again."
"Until we meet again."
Aunt Lan stuffed a few steamed buns into Xiahou Lian's hands, tears streaming down her face. "Take care, Xiao-Lian."
"You take care too, Auntie. Don't be too sad, or you'll make yourself sick." Xiahou Lian took the buns, grabbed Uncle Duan's hand, and turned to leave.
Xie Jinglan and Aunt Lan escorted the pair to the side gate, watching as they slowly walked away. One tall and the other short, the two stumbled down the alley, the distant sunset casting a crimson glow. Step by step, Xiahou Lian walked into the distance, lit by the slanting sunlight. That light turned his figure hazy, as if he might vanish into the sunset at any moment.
Suddenly, Xie Jinglan felt an uncontrollable fear. Would he and Xiahou Lian ever see each other again?
"Xiahou Lian!"
Xie Jinglan suddenly chased after him. At the sound of his voice, Xiahou Lian turned around just in time for Xie Jinglan to pull him into a tight embrace.
Xiahou Lian sniffed lightly. Xie Jinglan smelled of soap.
"Don't forget our talk in the study the other day," Xie Jinglan murmured into his shoulder.
"I won't forget. I took it to heart."
"I'll find you."
"Mm-hmm. I know."
"All right. You can go now."
"Until we meet again."
"Until we meet again."
This time, Xiahou Lian really did leave. Xie Jinglan leaned against the wall and watched. The rough bricks scratched his hand, making it sting. At the entrance of the alley, Xiahou Lian climbed onto an oxcart, then disappeared around the corner.
He didn't actually leave Jinling, though. Uncle Duan had arranged for him to board at Wanxiang Tower. His uncle went out early each morning and returned late at night; Xiahou Lian rarely saw him. And so Xiahou Lian resumed his carefree lifestyle. Fortunately, he was accustomed to being on his own and had long since learned to amuse himself.
He wasn't wrong that Qiye Garden's eyes were on Xie Bingfeng. Assassins had entered Jinling one by one. Wanxiang Tower's front courtyard was brightly lit, a place of revelry and indulgence—a paradise on earth. The back courtyard was where the assassins went to douse their blades with strong liquor, their expressionless white porcelain masks luminous under the orange candlelight. Six of the Garden's Eight Legions had arrived. The remaining two were absent—one was recuperating on the mountain after losing an arm during his last assassination, and the other was Xiahou Lian's mother. She was still in the Western Regions, and there hadn't been any news on her progress.
Xiahou Lian felt a twinge of unease. The assassins of Qiye Garden usually worked independently, lone wolves on a snowy plain. But now, at least twenty assassins had gathered in the back courtyard, and the Garden had no more than thirty assassins total. Still, Xiahou Lian didn't dare ask too many questions. These assassins were desperadoes, more bloodthirsty than a wolf pack. They wouldn't respect him just because he was the Garuda's son. They only respected those who wielded sharper blades than they did.
Who could they be targeting? Each assassin would have to end at least one life, so they were planning to kill no less than twenty people in Jinling. That would be an unprecedented mission for the Garden.
Why had Uncle Duan removed Xiahou Lian from the Xie residence before his mother returned? Just because they were planning to assassinate Xie Bingfeng?
Xiahou Lian couldn't figure it out, so he spent his days running wild around Wanxiang Tower. After just a few days' stay, he'd familiarized himself with its layout. He climbed the pillars to the rafters, then swung from those beams to the third floor to sneak into Lady Liu's room. There, he snatched a pair of gold-and-jade earrings from her dressing table.
Uncle Duan knew that Xiahou Lian couldn't hold on to money, so he'd been particularly stingy lately. The sums of money he gave the boy were leaner than a toothpick—not even enough to buy snacks.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. Xiahou Lian stuffed the earrings into his pocket and stepped onto the windowsill, then clung to the wall outside, the Qinhuai River's quiet waters flowing below.
Lady Liu entered her room and sat at the dressing table, looking at the man reflected in the mirror. "What brings you here today? I thought you'd forgotten all about me."
"I've been busy impeaching that vile eunuch Wei—busy enough to make my head spin. Now that I finally have some free time, I've come to see you." Xie Bingfeng leaned closer to Lady Liu, inhaling a deep breath of her perfume. "So fragrant, my dear. What kind of powder are you using? It smells wonderful."
"Powder? This is my natural scent." Lady Liu snorted. "You've already been demoted to Jinling, yet you're still trying to impeach someone? Do you want to be banished to some godforsaken place? I don't have time to entertain you."
"Don't worry. This time, the six ministries, three judicial offices, and twenty-four agencies have jointly submitted a memorial. We're sure to bring that eunuch down. The day he falls, I'll return to the capital," Xie Bingfeng laughed, his face full of pride.
"The six ministries and three judicial offices? Those are all in the capital. What does a minor Jinling official like you have to do with it? You're just meddling," Lady Liu said dismissively.
"What do you know? My name is on the joint memorial, so when the time comes, I'll get a share of the credit. Besides, I've already announced that every member of the Xie household has memorized the memorial. Even if I die, all 108 members of the Xie family will carry on my cause and appeal directly to the emperor. People everywhere will praise my righteous deed! My official rank may be lower than before, but my reputation will be far greater. What does it matter if I'm just a minor official in Jinling?"
Lady Liu snorted. "Fame chaser."
"You're so shortsighted, woman. This immortal deed will make history for thousands of years. When historians write about it, they'll surely praise me. You really—" Xie Bingfeng was so angry that he was now panting, but when he caught sight of Lady Liu sitting gracefully—face delicate as fine porcelain, eyelashes like crescent moons—he couldn't resist leaning in closer. "Forget it, forget it. There's no point arguing with you. When I'm directed to return to the capital, I'll purchase you and take you with me. Then you'll see the benefits yourself."
Lady Liu laughed. "Fine, I'll wait. You'd better keep your word."
"Of course," Xie Bingfeng said, kissing Lady Liu. "I should go now. That old hag back home keeps a close eye on me lately. I'll come see you again later."
"Go on, go on. Be careful not to get burned." Lady Liu waved her fan, shooing him away.
When the man was finally gone, Lady Liu raised a handkerchief to wipe her face, muttering angrily, "You old fool. You don't even know your life is in danger. You made your entire household memorize the impeachment memorial? That means Wei De is going to exterminate your whole family. Yet you're still crowing to yourself, dreaming about making your mark on history. How ridiculous!"
A chill ran through Xiahou Lian's body as he clung to the window. Once Lady Liu left, he cautiously climbed back into the room.
The word "exterminate" weighed heavily on his chest. He was so overcome with anxiety that he forgot how he even got downstairs.
When would this massacre happen? And when was Xie Jinglan leaving the Xie residence? Would he escape? Xiahou Lian was frantic yet had no plan.
How was he supposed to save Xie Jinglan and Aunt Lan all by himself? What about Guixiang, the girl from the study who always called him "Lian-gege"? How could he save everyone?
A plan, a plan, he kept telling himself. Think of a plan!
"Xiao-Lian!" Uncle Duan smacked the back of the boy's head. "What are you wandering around for? Hurry back to your room and get some rest. The front courtyard is a mess. Get moving."
Xiahou Lian looked up, and Uncle Duan's dark face came into view. "Uncle, haven't you always told me not to become an assassin?"
"Huh? Have you come around?" Uncle Duan ruffled Xiahou Lian's hair. "There's nothing wrong with raising chickens and ducks on our mountain. It's big enough for you to run wild for a lifetime."
I'm already tired of that, Xiahou Lian thought with disdain. "Take me with you on this mission," he said to Uncle Duan. "Let me see for myself what a real battle is like, and then I'll make my decision."
"No." Uncle Duan refused without hesitation.
"Why not?"
"What do you mean, 'why not'?! With those skinny arms and legs of yours, even if I gave you a blade, you couldn't kill a pig, let alone a person. You're better off trimming flowers or chopping wood. And what if something happened to you? How could I explain that to your mother?"
"I won't kill anyone, I'll just watch from the side," Xiahou Lian said. "If you don't let me experience a real battle for myself, how can I make the right choice? You're planning to wipe out the Xie family, right? I'll just keep to one side and observe."
Uncle Duan slapped a hand over Xiahou Lian's mouth, shuddering, then dragged him to a corner. "Where did you hear that, you little rascal?"
"Don't worry about where I heard it. I know."
Uncle Duan knew Xiahou Lian was as quick as a monkey. One of the assassins might have let something slip while Xiahou Lian was eavesdropping. After a moment's consideration, he said, "I suppose that wouldn't be entirely impossible."
Xiahou Lian's eyes lit up. "Uncle, take me with you!" he insisted.
Uncle Duan sighed helplessly. "Fine. Listen carefully. Wear your clothes and mask properly. Don't run around like you usually do while we're at work. And when you hear the sound of the temple block, follow the rest of us and retreat."
Xiahou Lian nodded eagerly.
Uncle Duan took a short knife from his waistband and handed it to Xiahou Lian. It was worn, the sharkskin scabbard covered in scratches. The intricate carvings, stained with deep-red blood, exuded a silent ferocity. Xiahou Lian drew the blade and saw his face shining back from its gleaming surface.
"If you have the skill, you can try killing a few people," Uncle Duan said. "Once you've killed someone, you'll see that being an assassin isn't as fun as it seems. To become Qiye Garden's best assassin, you must first forge yourself into a blade. And to forge yourself into a blade, your heart must first turn to steel."
How could a heart of flesh become steel? Xiahou Lian sheathed the knife and forced a smile. "I understand. Just wait and see!"