AT THE SOUND of the zither's name, Feng Xiao sneezed. "No, no. That can't be right at all." He rubbed his nose.
Beside him, Cui Buqu was in a good mood. "You've been saying 'that can't be right' since last night. What's not right?"
Feng Xiao snorted. "Nothing is right."
Cui Buqu let it drop. "I didn't expect Cui Yong would offer Yuyin as the prize. Tell me, will you steal it openly, or in secret?"
Feng Xiao looked over at the zither. His vision was sharp; despite the distance, he could see the instrument clearly. Cui Yong plucked a few strings. The notes of the zither rippled out, striking hearts throughout the crowd.
It was indeed a beautiful zither. In the hands of a proficient musician, a zither like this could produce heavenly music. In the hands of a martial artist with profound internal energy, the results it might produce were unfathomable.
Yuyin wasn't the finest zither in the world, and obtaining it wasn't an absolute necessity for Feng Xiao. But now that he'd seen it, and it was within his reach, allowing it to slip through his fingers would be too great a pity.
He had already been considering how to obtain the zither when Cui Buqu asked his question. He raised a brow. "What do you mean? I'll simply dazzle them with my poetry. Then won't Cui Yong have to give it to me?"
"I didn't expect Deputy Chief Feng to be a greater poet than anyone else present," Cui Buqu said in surprise. "Why not let me hear your poem first?"
Feng Xiao snorted. "My poem has a value equal to Yuyin. What will you offer me if I let you hear it first?"
Cui Buqu remained silent for a moment, then said, "Alas, this Cui's sleeves are completely empty. You must save it to surprise the audience."
Around them, Cui Yong's declaration had made quite the splash. The vast majority of those present didn't know martial arts, but they'd heard of Yuyin. Even if they hadn't, they knew any zither Cui Yong was willing to offer as a prize had to be a famous one. Some of those who'd only come to watch the excitement now began trying to compose the most brilliant poems they could think of.
Cui Yong smiled and stroked his beard as he chatted with the commandery governor. Whether intentionally or not, his gaze strayed to Cui Buqu.
Feng Xiao marked it even before Cui Buqu did. "Look how you've frightened him. He's like a bird startled at the twang of a bow. How long until you put him out of his misery?" Feng Xiao jibed.
"Wait a moment." Cui Buqu's gaze fell on the man beside Cui Yong. He took a step forward before Feng Xiao grabbed his wrist, forcing Cui Buqu to turn back to him. "The new commandery governor is also an old acquaintance from those days," he confessed.
There weren't many left in the Yu family, and they'd already met all the relevant members of the Cui clan. Feng Xiao thought back to the story Cui Buqu had told. "Lady Yu's shixiong?"
Cui Buqu nodded. "Yuan Sheng lost his parents at a young age. Patriarch Yu recognized his aptitude and took him as a disciple, teaching him with great care. But one day, he vanished. Though Yuan Sheng left behind a letter, his exact whereabouts were a mystery. In truth, he went traveling across both the north and south, and was later recommended as an official. They gave him the name Yuan Sansi, which he began using. His first position was as a county magistrate in Huo County, and it seems he's now been promoted to the governor of Boling Commandery. You might say he's earned himself quite a bit of glory."
Perhaps Yuan Sheng had been transferred here by chance, or perhaps, at some point, he'd quietly returned to visit his family and became angry upon learning their sorry fate. If that was the case, there was a chance that he, too, was plotting revenge. Whatever the truth, it didn't change Cui Buqu's plans—he was a man who always finished what he started. Still, a long-lost acquaintance had resurfaced. It made sense to go and speak to him about his mother.
Feng Xiao released his wrist and shooed him off as one might a puppy or a kitten. "Go, go. Very soon now my venerable self will start displaying my poetic talents."
Cui Buqu gave him a long, skeptical look before leaving.
Waving his fan, Feng Xiao slipped into the crowd with a smile.
"During the fifth month, the pomegranate flowers bloom…" recited a young scholar in a white robe and a black sash. Another scholar beside him was writing with incredible speed, transcribing everyone's poems.
Several locally famous scholars had been selected to judge. One was an elderly man who'd served as a high-ranking official in the imperial court of the previous dynasty, and was currently one of the leaders of the northern literary world.
Although the theme of the festival was pomegranates, the poems themselves could be about anything. It was a gathering of talents, a delicious feast. Any topic was allowed. If someone wanted to experiment, they could perform a tragic quatrain. As long as the poem was outstanding, the poet was certain to become famous.
Everyone was wracking their brains for the perfect composition. Some had come with their masterpieces already written and perfectly memorized in hopes of drawing the eye of the famous scholars present. As for those who'd already made names for themselves, an exceptional performance was a must, lest they fail to live up to their own reputations.
The young scholar finished reciting his poem and nervously awaited his assessment. The old judges didn't embarrass him; they only smiled. "A charming piece. An above-average entry."
The scholar knew they meant his poem was mediocre and unremarkable. Forget ranking in the top three; he'd be lucky to make the top ten. The young man was crestfallen but dared not show it. He politely cupped his hands and sat down, vacating the stage for the next participant.
When it came to poetry, only talent mattered. Anyone could memorize a few books and copy some flowery prose; even if they didn't capture the essence of the work, simple mimicry wasn't difficult. But masterpieces that could draw applause from the audience weren't composed through willpower alone. Since the Wei and Jin dynasties, only a few geniuses capable of such work had emerged, such as the three Caos and Xie Lingyun.8
Amid this grand gathering of scholars, one man stepped out of the crowd, his voice ringing out across the garden for everyone to hear. "I, a man of some talent, have fallen in love with Yuyin at first sight. I am here to present some poems. If they meet the conditions proposed by Duke Cui, I ask him to be generous."
The speaker was, of course, Feng Xiao. As the crowd turned their heads, many saw only a blinding radiance: This man's face was as resplendent as a phoenix diving into a painting, like the spring sun shining down, bathing the entire garden in its glow.
Cui Yong frowned slightly. He'd just seen Cui Buqu approach the new commandery governor. He couldn't stop him without making a scene, so he'd sent Cui-dalang to keep an eye on him. If Cui Buqu said something he oughtn't, he'd drag him away. If worse came to worst, he'd apologize to the governor for his wayward guests. But he hadn't expected Feng Xiao to appear at just that moment.
Still, they were only two men; what could they do? Even if they shouted the entire story in front of everyone, Cui Yong had ways of dealing with it. The trouble was, as long as they followed every rule, there was little Cui Yong could do.
People were naturally inclined to indulge a beautiful face. The white-haired old judge had once been a lofty official at the head of the Six Ministries, but he was no exception. He joked, "If this young friend has truly composed a masterpiece, I'll steal the zither myself and present it to you if Duke Cui regrets his generosity."
Feng Xiao smiled. "Thank you very much. I have composed a short quatrain."
The old man nodded. "Whenever you're ready."
The crowd pricked up their ears, waiting to hear what kind of earth-shaking masterpiece this handsome young man had composed. Feng Xiao's thin lips parted as he recited: "In the fifth month, the pomegranate blooms; Boling holds a grand celebration. The wise pursue fame and fortune, but I am here for Yuyin."
Silence.
Awkward silence.
A silence in which even the spring warblers forgot to chirp. Everyone remained unmoving, their smiles frozen on their faces.
Dear gods! In all the literary festivals ever held by the Cui family, they'd never heard such a terrible poem! It couldn't even be called one. At most it was free verse, and exceedingly mediocre verse at that.
The crowd was certainly moved, but it wasn't with wonder. Where did this dunce come from? Why would anyone embarrass themselves by bringing such shameful stuff to the literary festival?
Even the white-haired old man who'd been charmed by Feng Xiao struggled to force a smile. "My young friend, this poem isn't up to par. You have much room to improve; please spend more time practicing."
Cui Yong nearly laughed his head off. Just what kind of ally had Cui Buqu brought with him? He was as useful as a glass hammer!
Feng Xiao didn't appear remotely embarrassed. "Didn't Duke Cui say the most outstanding poet would receive Yuyin as a gift? I've done my part. Will you go back on your word?"
"If I give you Yuyin for this…piece that can't even be called a poem, I fear everyone will speculate that you're my long-lost grandson," said Cui Yong coolly.
The crowd burst out laughing at Duke Cui's quip.
Feng Xiao was unfazed. "As the saying goes, there's no first place among literary scholars and no second place among martial artists. Everyone has their own opinions on what makes good poetry; this is a matter of personal taste. It's bad poetry anyone can recognize. You said the most exceptional poet would receive Yuyin, but you didn't specify whether it had to be exceptionally good. If the poem was exceptionally bad, I'd say it meets the requirements."
Cui Yong's lips twitched. "Young man, that's enough of your nonsense. You may go."
Everyone stared perplexedly at Feng Xiao. Either something was wrong with this man's head, or he was purposely acting the boor to get attention.
Feng Xiao took not a whit of it to heart but continued smiling brightly. Since Cui Yong had told him to leave, he obediently sauntered off, waving his fan. Several ladies who didn't care whether his poetry was good or bad flocked to him and began to ask questions, earning him jealous looks from the other men.
The newly appointed commandery governor, Yuan Sansi, gazed at the wan young man who'd approached him during the commotion. He waved a hand and sent his attendants away. "Can I help you?"
Normally it was impossible for a commoner to have a face-to-face conversation with the commandery governor. But this was a literary festival, and many of the attendees were rising talents. The commandery governor was here to enjoy the festivities with the people; it wouldn't do to put on airs.
But more significantly, when he saw Cui Buqu, he inexplicably felt as though he'd seen this young man's face before.
Cui Buqu nodded. "There's about to be a lot of excitement. The commandery governor need not intervene; merely watch from the sidelines. Afterward, there's something I'd like to discuss with you. Please don't leave too quickly."
Yuan Sansi was puzzled enough to let Cui Buqu's lack of etiquette slide. "What excitement?"
Cui Buqu glanced at the approaching Cui-dalang and smiled. "The Cui family is in bed with the Southern dynasty. That kind of excitement."
Cui-dalang had been watching Cui Buqu speak to the commandery governor. There was something strange about Cui Buqu—an indescribable dissonance in his attitude and demeanor. Cui Buqu was not an official, and he had no family behind him. Yet he was neither haughty nor humble as he spoke to the commandery governor. Rather, he had the air of a superior speaking to a subordinate. Truly, Cui-dalang thought, this man had a bloated opinion of himself.
Yet just as he got within earshot, he heard those words—the Cui family is in bed with the Southern dynasty—and his face went white. "What slander is this?!" he shouted on instinct.
Yuan Sansi's eyes widened in surprise. His gaze moved between the two of them, but he was a wise man. He remained quiet, waiting to see what came of this. Cui-dalang had none of Yuan Sansi's composure. He was panicked.
Cui Buqu gave him a small smile. "Is it slander? You should ask yourself. Tell me, did you do it of your own initiative, or was it on Cui Yong's orders? Are the other members of the Cui family involved? If you come clean now, you might still have a chance to save them. But not for much longer."
Cui-dalang steadied his voice with great effort. "A-Jie, I know you hold a grudge against the Cui family for your childhood. But the Cui family was merely trying to preserve your mother's reputation and protect you. If the circumstances of your birth were made public, could you withstand the rumors and judgment?"
Yuan Sansi could no longer remain silent. "What are you talking about? What reputation? What circumstances?"
The corner of Cui Buqu's lips curled up as he spoke, his tone uncommonly gentle. "Perhaps you don't yet know the new commandery governor's original name. He was once called Yuan Sheng, and he was my grandfather's pupil. He was also Lady Yu's shixiong, who left home as a young man and was thought to have vanished."
Cui Buqu wasn't surprised to see both of them staring at him in shock and bewilderment—Yuan Sansi because he'd mentioned Lady Yu, and Cui-dalang because of Yuan Sansi's background. These were old events, thought to have been buried in yellow soil, never to see the sun again. Who'd have thought that one day, old acquaintances would reunite and those presumed dead would still walk the world, or that those who'd disappeared would return with a new identity?
The moment stretched. Cui-dalang's face remained calm, but a storm was brewing in his heart.
Cui Buqu didn't give him the chance to stop and think. "Since you've foregone your last chance to come clean, don't blame me for being ruthless."
Before Cui-dalang could digest these words, Cui Buqu raised his voice. "Come forward!"
Who should come forward? And from where?
Cui-dalang was still half a step behind as he turned to look over the heads of the crowd. Black-clad guards had suddenly appeared throughout the garden. They silently streamed toward Cui Buqu and went down on one knee before him.
"How did it go?" asked Cui Buqu coldly.
"Everything has been settled, Lord Chief." The leader bowed his head. Two days prior, he'd received a secret order from Cui Buqu instructing him to bring a large number of Zuoyue guards from Yecheng. They had been waiting for this moment to capture the entire Cui family in one fell swoop.
Cui Buqu had brought two Zuoyue guards with him. One to gather the men, and the other to infiltrate the Cui manor and search for evidence. After Cui Buqu had revealed his identity, the Cui family had been thrown into chaos; they'd been too busy to pay attention to comings and goings in the manor. The guard had completed his task with ease.
"Surround the garden and arrest Cui-da. He can take you to his study and bedroom so you may search them," Cui Buqu said, greatly satisfied.
Cui-dalang was still wondering if he was dreaming when his arms were twisted up behind his back. "Let go of me! Let go of me! Cui Jie, you traitor! You bastard!"
The appearance of the Zuoyue guards combined with Cui-dalang's shouting caught everyone's attention. Cui Yong hurried over, stunned. "You there, let him go! What's the meaning of this?!"
Cui Buqu casually produced a token, spinning it a few times between his fingers before throwing it to the Zuoyue guard. The man caught it and held it aloft.
"Our lord is the chief of the Zuoyue Bureau, personally appointed by His Majesty. Under orders from the throne, he has investigated the Cui family's collusion with the Southern dynasty. For the past four years, Cui Xu, the eldest son of the Cui family, has been secretly aiding the Southern dynasty's Linchuan Academy. Three years ago, a disciple of Linchuan Academy, Yue Gu, tried and failed to assassinate our emperor of Sui. As he fled, he passed through Boling, where Cui Xu helped him hide for several days.
"One year ago, the north suffered severe drought and famine. The court opened the granaries to distribute grain, appointing officials to provide aid. But Cui Xu secretly conspired with Yue Gu. He spread rumors that the court was unwilling to give aid and that the victims would be left to fend for themselves. Yue Gu's outlaw friends then took the grain for themselves and sent it south, leaving the refugees to starve and driving them to revolt."
Cui-dalang's face grew paler with every word.
Cui Yong stared at his eldest son in disbelief. The Cui family had stood tall for generations; the change of dynasties hadn't shaken their foundations. No matter the dynasty or generation, all emperors sorely needed talent—and the Cui family had produced many talented people. It was this that supported their noble status.
The division of the Central Plains into north and south had caused great turmoil. Countless heroes had emerged, all hoping to make their mark on history, while the aristocratic families had guarded their own interests. Cui Yong had seen that the emperor of Sui was skilled and wise, so he'd become partial to the northern dynasty. But of all his sons, only Cui Pei possessed the potential to become an official in the emperor's government, and so he'd focused his remaining attention on his eldest grandson, Cui Fei. He couldn't possibly have imagined his eldest son would do something like this behind his back.
Cui-dalang's reaction made his guilt abundantly clear.
The crowd watched in shock, intimidated into silence by the Zuoyue guards. Surrounded by those black-clad figures, the sickly young man's authority seemed to settle over him like a bright cloak. No one dared to look him in the eye.
Cui Pei had seen his eldest brother head toward Cui Buqu. Worried Cui-dalang would confront him, he'd followed to help, but had instead been treated to the sight of his brother arrested. He stood frozen in place.
Cui-jiuniang had been standing beside Feng Xiao, chatting with him. Now, she turned to look at him in confusion. "If he's the chief of the Zuoyue Bureau, then who are you?"