Chapter 209: Parting the Clouds and Mists to See the Blue Sky (6K Seeking Monthly Tickets)

Chapter 209: Parting the Clouds to See the Blue Sky (6K Request for Monthly Votes)

Ten thousand miles away, the province of Shuzhou was shrouded in dark clouds, the rain drizzling down.

Yet in the skies above the northern Imperial Capital, it was clear for thousands of miles.

At the hour of noon following the onset of autumn, the bright sun blazed, shining upon this "Tower of Wind and Rain" that had stood south of the imperial city for two hundred years, making it look as fresh as new.

Strands of haloed light spilled down through the colored glass of the latticed windows.

This caused the spacious room deep within the third floor to seem as though it were suffused with a golden sheen.

A man wearing a white tiger-patterned mask stood before the desk, the white jade wolf-hair brush in his hand thick at its tip.

Dipping it in Huizhou ink, he wielded the brush with broad strokes on the soft Yanshui paper to write four characters: "Reflections After Rain."

Then came four lines of poetry: "At dawn I leave Baidi amidst the radiant clouds; a thousand miles to Jiangling, returned in a single day."

"While apes on either bank gibber without cease, the light boat has already passed ten thousand mountains."

—It was, shockingly, the very "Reflections After Rain" composed by Chen Yi.

Only, Chen Yi had written it in running script, his lines manifesting an easy elegance.

But this man wearing the white tiger-patterned mask wrote it in the Weiqing style.

Every stroke and line was square and straight, rugged and heroic.

Even if it flowed like moving clouds and water, it did not match the artistic conception of "crossing ten thousand mountains to find the light" that exuded from this poem.

Thus, after the man in the white tiger-patterned mask finished writing, he looked at the artistic conception emerging upon the Yanshui paper, remaining silent for a long time.

Even the white tiger guard dressed in a red robe kneeling before him had a strange look in his eyes.

—The Pavilion Master was actually also a master of the perfect realm of calligraphy?!

Not waiting for him to think further, he heard the one he called "Pavilion Master" ask: "How did the secret letter describe that poem, 'Reflections After Rain'?"

Bowing in salutation, he replied: "Indifferent and untrammeled, riding upon the wind."

The Pavilion Master nodded slightly, casting aside the white jade wolf-hair brush, and gazed at the artistic conception materializing before him—

A stretch of majestic mountains and ridges, towering high, a thousand chang loftier than the white clouds.

A city loomed amidst the clouds, spanning across two mountain peaks.

Within it were magnificent palaces, heavy city walls, thousands of heavily armored soldiers on guard, and heavy crossbows and other weapons exuding a piercing coldness.

The "boat" beneath the mountains could no longer be described as a "light boat," but rather as a fleet of warships.

Forming columns, they moved in a grand and formidable array.

And he, dressed as a "general" in a white robe with silver-glinting armor beneath it, a white tiger-patterned mask upon his face, stood at the prow.

With a wave of his hand, the warships sped along the mountain river channels.

Cleaving mountains where they met them, slaying enemies where they encountered them, covering ten thousand miles in an instant.

Until at last, flags and banners stood thick, planted upon a land illuminated by the sun.

Looking upon that scene, the white-robed Pavilion Master laughed enigmatically a few times, "The light boat has already passed ten thousand mountains, indeed. Not bad."

The white-robed Pavilion Master praised in a calm tone, his eyes, cold as ice, subsequently falling upon the red-robed white tiger guard before him.

"Ji Qing, how do you view this line?"

The red-robed white tiger guard, Ji Qing, reflected for a moment and answered: "There is a sense of 'breaking through the dark clouds to see the light again' within this line of poetry."

"Your subordinate believes that the fledgling is far more open-minded compared to before."

The white-robed Pavilion Master said indifferently: "It seems he has already glimpsed a glimmer of dawn... Not bad."

Ji Qing's body trembled slightly; this was the second "not bad" he had heard from the Pavilion Master's mouth.

As the person who had followed the "Pavilion Master" the longest, he understood—the Pavilion Master was truly incensed.

Thinking this, Ji Qing said carefully: "Perhaps it is because his calligraphy has reached the perfect realm?"

The white-robed Pavilion Master said noncommittally: "The perfect realm of calligraphy may allow him to win fame across the Nine Provinces and Three Prefectures; it indeed possesses the power to 'part the clouds to see the blue sky'."

Then his tone shifted, "I do not think so."

"Though the words 'light boat' happen to echo his name, looking at everything that has occurred in Shuzhou recently, how has it not also echoed upon the Xiao family?"

Ji Qing was slightly stunned, raising his head just a fraction to steal a glance, and said hesitantly: "Is the Pavilion Master saying the fledgling knew in advance that someone intended to burn the summer grain of the three towns?"

"But according to the sparrowhawk, the fledgling has always lived in seclusion and seldom gone out."

"Aside from occasionally going to the Guiyun Academy to teach calligraphy, his few excursions were all on behalf of Xiao Wan'er to negotiate the expansion of the Baichao Tang."

"From where could he have learned about the matter of the Mingyue Lou, the Liu family, and the Grey Wolf dealing with the Xiao family?"

"And how could he have foreseen in advance that the Xiao family would be able to turn danger into safety?"

"Unless..."

Before he could finish, the white-robed Pavilion Master raised his hand slightly, interrupting him: "I want to know the truth, not conjectures and inferences."

"Forgive me, Pavilion Master. Your subordinate shall immediately command the Tigress, ordering her to investigate the fledgling thoroughly."

The white-robed figure glanced at him, reminding him in a cold tone: "Ask where the fledgling was on the night the three towns were attacked."

Ji Qing hurriedly bowed his head in assent.

Just as he was about to rise and leave, he heard the white-robed Pavilion Master continue to command:

"Send word to the General Star, tell him that I agree to his plan; initiate it as soon as possible."

"Furthermore, since Luanfeng wishes to stay in Shuzhou, let her stay there."

"As for the Liu family of Jingzhou... internal strife has already arisen, they court their own destruction; there is no need to pay them any heed."

Right at this moment, two raps on the door sounded from outside, and the white-robed figure paused, "What is it?"

"Reporting to the Pavilion Master, a message has come from the palace; His Majesty commands you to enter the palace immediately."

"Prepare the carriage."

"Yes."

Once the person outside the door had departed, the white-robed figure waved his hand at Ji Qing, who was kneeling before him, and said:

"Go down and rewrite the secret letter regarding Liu Wen's death. I wish to bring it into the palace to present to His Majesty."

"Remember, state clearly that the Liu family of Jingzhou is suspected of treason. The Xiao family knew of it but concealed it, harboring malicious intent."

Hearing this, Ji Qing paused, then struck his forehead against the floor, "Your subordinate obeys the command!"

Afterward, he rose, stepped back a few paces, turned, and left.

Standing silently for a brief moment.

The white-robed Pavilion Master glanced at the illusory image floating upon the table, a touch of contemplation appearing in his cold and indifferent eyes.

"The light boat has grown."

"Pity that scholars who toy with the penholder all their lives remain, in the end, nothing but ants."

Saying this, the white-robed Pavilion Master gently picked up that piece of Yanshui paper with its magnificent imagery.

He gave it a gentle shake.

The delicate sheet of paper instantly dissolved into fluttering fragments, drifting out the window.

The master of the White Robe watched the scraps vanish into the distance, a chill flickering in his eyes.

In an instant, he brushed his sleeve.

His figure vanished abruptly, dissolving into a pale, ghostly shadow that slid into the northern city wall’s fortress within the imperial capital.

In the hushed stillness of that empty chamber, a faint, oppressive whisper echoed:

“How could a mere handful of shallow ambitions ever grow into a majestic crane that blots out the sky?”

Far away, in Shu Zhou.

After three days of relentless rain, the heavens finally relented as Mid-Autumn approached.

Though clouds still clung to the sky, the sun pierced through them.

Like a furnace’s glow, it warmed the lands of Shu Zhou, coaxing life from the damp earth.

The air grew thick and sweltering.

Uncomfortable, yet Chen Yì barely noticed.

He had grown accustomed to concealment.

These ordinary bodily reactions—he could summon them at will.

After lunch, he let Xiao Dié prepare iced tea, then settled by the pond with Xiao Wúgōu, fishing rods in hand.

The three of them sipped their chilled drinks, idly chatting.

Mostly, Xiao Dié spoke, while Chen Yì nodded occasionally.

Xiao Wúgōu said little, merely cheering now and then:

“Brother, I’ve caught one!”

“Brother, a big one!”

“Brother, I’ve evened the score—this fish nearly soaked me to the bone!”

Who was he trying to even the score with?

Chen Yì muttered to himself, thinking of the idle fishing tales from the Air Force.

So whenever such moments came, he’d let out a half-hearted “hmm,” pretending to respond to Xiao Wúgōu.

Then he’d feign interest, asking Xiao Dié:

“Has anything exciting happened in the city lately?”

Or, “Which part of town is busier for the Mid-Autumn Festival?”

Xiao Dié, ever the gossip, would reply with trivialities:

“Master, the busiest place these days is Kangning Street.”

“And after your poem *‘Moved by Rain’* spread, scholars keep flocking to Fei Yun Academy to see it.”

She’d beam at the memory.

“They say Master Yue had guards stationed at the gate, fearing intruders.”

“Indeed, many scholars with reputations to protect have found ways in.”

“So Master Yue had no choice but to post a notice, opening the exhibition early today.”

“Though if you want to view your calligraphy, you still need to request an autograph first. Otherwise, you’ll only see his completed works.”

Chen Yì feigned interest.

The perfectly executed cursive script of a master calligrapher naturally drew crowds.

But he hadn’t anticipated that visitors to the Xiao family’s courtyard would grow, not dwindle.

There were old acquaintances like Mrs. Tang and Miss Wan, plus newcomers who’d come upon hearing the news.

All seeking favor, hoping to gain an audience with this “Master of the Light Boat.”

Add to that the recent news of the Iron Wall Town’s grain stores being burned, and many came to pay respects to the old patriarch.

Together, their combined presence made Xiao’s gatekeepers work from dawn till dusk.

The old patriarch, fed up, first limited visitors to one per day, then feigned illness, closing the door entirely.

But Xiao Wǎn'ér was different.

She was soft-hearted, always eager to accommodate.

So she accepted every invitation and autograph, chatting with guests until dusk.

The gardens of Fei Xing were never still.

Even Xiao Wúgōu, usually so busy teaching, found himself with two days of rare free time.

“Why make such a fuss?”

“It’d be easier to just turn everyone away.”

Chen Yì agreed, knowing Xiao Wǎn'ér’s nature.

No one could sway her.

Xiao Dié noticed his disinterest and shifted the subject:

“They say, because of your poem *‘Moved by Rain,’* several scholars from the Mid-Autumn gathering plan to challenge your reputation.”

“Challenge me? Good, let them try. Better yet, bury me in the mud.”

Seeing his indifference, Xiao Dié pressed on:

“They can’t do it, Master.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re unskilled and unlearned.”

“…Xiao Dié, who exactly is skilled enough to teach them?”

“The beauties from the Palace Court, of course.”

“The Court beauties say we common folk need to be sweet-tongued to win the favor of the nobles and their daughters.”

Chen Yì rolled his eyes.

“Stop learning that nonsense. I don’t want any of it.”

Xiao Dié hummed, smiling.

“Understood,” she said, then recounted the city’s Mid-Autumn festivities:

The bustling street performances of the East Market, the opera troupes of the West Market, the poetry contests on Kangning Street, and the lantern displays in the southern gardens.

All told, the city buzzed with celebration.

“Where would you like to wander, Master?”

“I’ll go anywhere.”

Anywhere was no good either.

Chen Yì would rather sleep the whole day away in the Lotus Garden.

He knew, too, that during the Mid-Autumn Festival, the halls of Hou’s mansion would be alive with splendor and ceremony. Ancestral rites, welcoming guests, feasts—all would unfold in due measure. If Xiao Jinghong failed to return, he might find some reprieve. Yet whenever Xiao Jinghong came back, he would be expected to mingle and network, to present festive gifts to the elders. Such was the way of things after a marriage.

Xiao Die heard this and hesitated, for as a maid, she dared not offer suggestions so freely. How could she, in her station, decide matters for the master’s household? So she spoke slowly, carefully: “I’ve heard the north of the city will be especially lively this Mid-Autumn.”

“The lantern displays by the flower beds, yes, and the matchmaking, and—ah—there are also lanterns hung on the Curve Pool for making wishes…”

Chen Yi caught her meaning and chuckled: “Would you like to go?”

Xiao Die nodded eagerly, then shook her head so hard her twin buns swayed. “Sir, you decide. I’ll follow your lead.”

“If I say no, then we won’t go.”

“Oh…”

“Just kidding, haha.”

“Wait until the mistress returns—ask her where she’d like to go, or if she doesn’t return, see what the eldest lady wants to do with the lanterns.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed Xiao Die’s face, then vanished, replaced by a spark of hope. “I’ll go find Yuan’er and Cuier to ask them,” she said, already making her way toward the courtyard.

Chen Yi said nothing more. After all, he had been here so long without properly exploring, let alone venturing out for pleasure. Most days, his outings were for business, and his spirits never quite relaxed. If the chance arose, he wouldn’t mind a stroll.

He set down the empty fishing rod and headed back to his chambers.

Just then, Wang Lixing emerged from the garden, bowing politely: “Second Young Master, there are visitors at the gate.”

Chen Yi paused, puzzled. “Who are they?”

“Deputy Minister Chen Yunfan of the Civil Affairs Office, and Deputy Censor Li Huaiyu—they wish to speak with you.”

“…Both of them?”

If it had been only Li Huaiyu, Chen Yi might have believed them. But with Chen Yunfan added, he doubted either had any real “business.”

“Send them in.”

As he spoke, he instructed Xiao Die to escort Xiao Wang back to his chambers for a nap, then began boiling water for tea.

Not long after, in came the two men in their plain robes. When they saw Chen Yi’s figure in the distance, Chen Yunfan bowed with a smile: “The junior scholar Chen Yunfan has the honor to greet you, Master Qingzhou.”

Li Huaiyu hesitated, about to return the bow, when Chen Yi called out from the pavilion: “Brother, have you come to make me look foolish?”

Chen Yunfan rolled his eyes and pulled the stunned Li Huaiyu forward. “Your reputation has spread throughout Shuzhou these past few days, and it’s made my brother proud.”

“Nonsense. My brother earned the title of first-place graduate by chance. I only managed to scrape together a reasonable score for the flower-prince contest.”

Li Huaiyu, seeing their easy rapport, realized Chen Yunfan was joking. He relaxed, chuckling: “If my brother’s ‘chance’ placed him first, then my own ‘chance’ at the flower-prince title isn’t so far off either.”

Chen Yunfan glanced at him and feigned surprise: “Did you think you’d actually passed the examinations, Huaiyu?”

“…No.”

Seeing the honest Li Huaiyu stumped by the jab, Chen Yi shook his head: “Brother, he’s always been jovial.”

He gestured for them to take their seats.

As they sipped tea, Chen Yi inquired about their purpose.

“The Civil Affairs Office has been idle these days—did you let them accompany you?”

Chen Yunfan took a sip, then scoffed: “Those two old men wouldn’t grant us such a favor.”

“So you…?”

“Sneaked out.”

Chen Yi let out a hollow laugh, thinking, *This is exactly the kind of thing Chen Yunfan would do.*

Then he turned to Li Huaiyu: “Huaiyu, how about you?”

Li Huaiyu shook his head: “I returned to Shuzhou just last night. This morning I went to the Office to inform Director Yang of my absence, and was granted leave.”

He couldn’t quite bring himself to agree with Chen Yunfan’s disregard for the Civil Affairs Office, but as a clerk who’d spent years in bowing and scraping, he dared not speak freely.

Chen Yi, however, was blunt: “Brother, you should learn from Huaiyu.”

Chen Yunfan glanced at Li Huaiyu and said: “Learn from him? He’s already exhausted enough—I won’t.”

“Nonsense, Yunfan.”

“If I’m too tired to handle the three prefectures’ grain taxes, how can I manage the rest?”

Li Huaiyu had no rebuttal. Then his gaze fell on Chen Yi, and with quiet gratitude: “Though it’s all thanks to you, Qingzhou, for your advice—I’ve managed to avoid a disaster.”

Chen Yunfan blinked, then looked at Chen Yi: “Did you teach him to take so long to reach Iron Hill Town?”

Chen Yi was about to nod, then paused. “Ten days to reach Iron Hill Town?”

Indeed, the speed was far beyond his expectations. That night, he had raced to Iron Hill Town with a group of ruffians, and the journey had taken only two hours by horseback. Yet Li Huaiyu had taken over ten days…

Sighing, he thought, *This fellow has always been straightforward.*

As for Li Huaiyu, facing their strange stares, he muttered a bitter smile: “Lord Liu has been sending letters every three days.”

“Once demanding ten taxes, again ten more, then ten without leaving a single one—until the latest letter saying they’d all been forgiven.”

It was making my head spin, so I might as well slow down the pace a bit…

Hearing this, Chen Yi hadn’t said much when Chen Yunfan beside him was muttering and cursing: “They’re bullying the honest folk outright.”

“Liu Hong is shameless, quicker than the officials who change orders from dawn to dusk.”

“Yunfan, brother, be careful with your words.”

“What’s the worry? There’s no one else here.”

Chen Yunfan glanced at Chen Yi, “You agree, right, younger brother?”

Chen Yi smiled faintly, not quite smiling: “If you, the brother, are displeased with the Department of Colonial Affairs, just discard the seal outright.”

“I’ve actually had that thought…”

After some idle chatter, Chen Yunfan couldn’t help but let out a low whistle.

He had thought Li Huigu was dragging his feet, perhaps guided by Master Yue Ming, but in truth it was Chen Yi’s idea.

Though that was nearly a fortnight ago.

“Hmph, Yi, you’re still Yi.”

“Even without leaving his quarters, he could deduce Liu’s family would retreat through some clues.”

“Yet he failed to realize my earlier warnings were all in vain…”

An hour passed in a flash.

Though the three of them had indulged in some idle, unproductive talk, the atmosphere grew warmer instead.

As evening approached, Chen Yunfan and Li Huigu finally explained their purpose.

Chen Yunfan placed a letter of invitation on the table, speaking solemnly: “The Mid-Autumn Festival is a day for family reunions.”

“Pity me, stranded in Shu with no relatives nearby. Only Yi here counts as family, so…”

Before he could finish, Chen Yi interrupted with irritation: “Let’s skip the formalities.”

“A son-in-law, who am I to decide?”

Chen Yunfan chuckled, “No need for you to decide. Wherever you go, I’ll follow you.”

“Oh, right. If General Surpassing Wild Geese is there too, I could introduce him to Cui Qingwu.”

Chen Yi knew exactly what he meant. Just as he was about to refuse, Li Huigu also produced an invitation, smiling awkwardly:

“Master asked me to deliver an invitation to the Cloud Scholar’s Mid-Autumn Poetry Gathering.”

“…I already declined the Dean’s offer the other day.”

“Declined what?”

Chen Yunfan took the invitation, glanced at it, and his interest piqued:

“Huigu, this time the gathering should draw many guests, right?”

Li Huigu nodded: “Master mentioned some who came to visit the school might attend.”

“People like Zhang Ping from Julu Academy, Zi Qian from Jinling Academy, and others.”

To his surprise, Chen Yunfan shook his head: “I was talking about the Flower Emblem.”

“This… I’m not sure.”

“A poetry gathering, after all, must have the Flower Emblem performing songs and dances.”

“Yi, show some favor?”

Chen Yi glared at him slyly: “No, I won’t go.”

Chen Yunfan’s face fell, muttering under his breath: “Where you go, I’ll go.”

The same applied to him.

He had made up his mind to spend the Mid-Autumn Festival with Chen Yi and Cui Qingwu.

Li Huigu looked at the two, hesitating: “If Brother Light-boat is free, you should see the gathering—it’s bound to be grand.”

Chen Yunfan paused upon hearing this, then fixed his gaze on Chen Yi’s serious expression: “We’ll go.”

Seeing no change in Chen Yi, he frowned: “Afterward, I’ll have to pay a visit to Master Hou.”

Chen Yi, seeing their earnestness, relented: “Tomorrow I’ll ask Master Yue Ming first, then decide.”

This brother was not at all like the meritocratic scholar, nor like a person of his own identity.

He was as if he’d never been a true descendant of the Chen family in Fu, nor a scholar at all.

Chen Yunfan paid him no mind, and upon his consent, smiled: “When we go, I’ll show you my poetry.”

“You?”

“My poetry?”

“The brother, who’s labored ten years under the harsh lights for the saints’ teachings, could compose a fitting poem on the spot.”

“…”

After some idle talk, Chen Yi finally escorted them from the mansion.

Only when they had walked far away did he let out a bitter smile.

Now, he couldn’t even go out for the Mid-Autumn Festival.

Though he wondered whether Surpassing Wild Geese could return in time.

…

The city of Wushan.

Surpassing Wild Geese returned quietly, unnoticed, swapping identities with Su Zhiyue without disturbing the busy mountain people and laborers of the city.

Even though news of the summer grain theft by the three towns had spread across Shu, in this remote market of Wushan, no one knew.

Surpassing Wild Geese herself wouldn’t speak of it.

After donning a white robe, she scanned the area and asked: “Where’s Pei Yunlu?”

Su Zhiyue flushed with embarrassment: “She’s gone with her brother.”

Surpassing Wild Geese furrowed her brow slightly, but said nothing reproachfully:

“The more she tries to hide, the more it shows the messenger’s identity is uncertain.”

“‘Blade Madman’ Liu Liang is fond and loyal, and would spare me from killing him, but he couldn’t possibly have ties with the mountain people.”

Su Zhiyue nodded, hesitating: “Shall I go to the mountain people and fetch her?”

“She won’t help. The mountain woman won’t bargain. It’s better I go myself.”

“You personally? But the Mid-Autumn Festival is near. Aren’t you staying home?”

Under her half-mask, Surpassing Wild Geese’s lips pressed thin:

“This time, the summer grain theft by the three towns has made it clear—Grandfather doesn’t want me staying here.”

“Th-this is why? How could Lord Hou—”

“Let’s take precautions.”

Xiao Honghong said no more, then softly instructed, “I’ll go to the mountain tribe; you write a letter to the Lord for me.”

“Have him quickly frame those poems and hang them in my chamber.”

Su Zhimeng hesitated, her lips trembling slightly. “My handwriting differs from yours; if Master sees it, he might not be pleased.”

“He’ll understand.”

As Xiao Honghong spoke, her eyes—soft as flowing water—drifted toward the capital city of Shuzhou, as if a scholar’s silhouette flickered across them.

In a daze.

That figure approached, smiling gently. “My lord, when might you return?”

My lord, forgive me.

Once all was settled, Honghong would return to her duties…

Marriage and child-rearing?

Xiao Honghong blinked, snapped back to herself, and bent her head back to the desk. She picked up a scroll, glancing at it while asking,

“Tell me, what’s the progress of the recent trade missions?”

Su Zhimeng studied her, paused a moment, and replied, “The days have been rainy, delaying things a bit…”

Should she remind my lord that the scroll is upside down?

(Chapter End)