A special thank you to my patrons:
—Cain, Jacob Mooe, kevin Williams, ZaberZ, Jose Sierra, Salim, Archer, Acedia, kurtis newman, Nithin Samuel, Little Sand, Angel Rodriguez, Dradin Hebrhal, Andrew Bryant, Luca August.
You can read 50 chapters ahead of everyone on p@treon.
P@TREON - [email protected]/lessaservantofcosmos
(just replace the "@" with "a")
ps: Please support me on P@treon. I can really use your help!
————————————————————
The spring scenery in Linfen County town was delightful; the peach tree before Lord Wei's hall was fresh and new.
Within the rear courtyard of the Wei residence, though not as lush as trees in the wild, several had been planted. Under the influence of spring, the dense green foliage combined with the bright peach blossoms created a charming sight.
Wei Ji sat within the rear courtyard pavilion. A low table was placed before him. On the table was a ceramic vase—narrow neck, broad belly. The celadon glaze on its surface was finely crackled, like the fissures on ice about to melt on a spring river. A peach branch was inserted in the vase.
Wei Ji was carefully, meticulously examining the leaves and twigs of the peach branch from top to bottom. In his hand was a small pair of round-headed shears, with a narrow cutting end but a long handle. Slowly, deliberately, he trimmed the peach branch. After each cut, he would study it for a long while, scrutinizing it repeatedly before continuing to snip.
The spring scenery was beautiful—every blade of grass, every tree, vibrant with life.
The vase was beautiful—its lines smooth, elegant, and quaintly refined.
The peach branch was beautiful—its petals a delicate pink, fresh and dewy, seemingly ready to drip.
Wei Ji's robe was very white, his hands very steady, his expression serene, a slight smile on his face.
When Yang Feng arrived, this was the scene he beheld. For a moment, he was somewhat taken aback. Pingyang had fallen; the situation was now a complete mess. Yet Wei Ji remained so composed. His ability to cultivate inner peace truly was impressive.
"I pay my respects to Lord Wei." Yang Feng bent at the waist, lowering his head.
Wei Ji made a 'snip' sound, cutting off a short twig. His hand paused. Peering through the peach branches, he smiled and said, "Commander Yang need not stand on ceremony. Please, take a seat. Ah, just a few days apart, yet Commander Yang has become so..." Wei Ji's gaze lingered for an instant on the hair at Yang Feng's temples.
Logically, Yang Feng was in the prime of his life. When they had met at the tavern earlier, his hair had been completely black. Yet now, after merely a few days' interval, it was already streaked with considerable gray.
Yang Feng gave a slight nod, as if smiling, but said nothing. He simply walked to a nearby mat and sat upright.
Wei Ji was silent for a moment, then said softly, "Commander Yang, observe this branch. How is it?"
"'The peach tree is young and elegant; brilliant are its flowers.' Naturally, Lord Wei's arrangement is beautiful." Yang Feng watched Wei Ji's graceful, white-robed figure. For some reason, a wave of deep annoyance rose in his heart, and the words slipped out.
Yang Feng had taken advantage of Fei Qian and Yu Fuluo's focus on the camp to disguise himself as a commoner, escaping amidst the chaos of the fleeing masses. He had escaped, yes, but now he had lost virtually all his combat troops, retaining only fifty or sixty personal guards. He was like a stray dog with no home...
In contrast, Wei Ji sat peacefully within Linfen City, leisurely trimming a peach branch!
If before Yang Feng still had some mind to engage in intellectual sparring with Wei Ji, now, reduced to such a state, where did he have any leisure for such things?
Wei Ji was taken aback. His hand stopped moving. His eyelids lowered slightly, as if in thought.
'Heh!'
A cold glint flashed deep in Wei Ji's eyes. Without a word, he slowly set down the round-headed shears in his hand.
The peach. In the writings of the Prince of Huainan, it is recorded that Yi was killed with a peachwood club. Yi was a tribal leader...
The peach. In the 'Book of Changes', it belongs to the Wood of the 'Zhen' trigram. Regarding the 'Zhen' trigram, it says, "When thunder comes, it is severe; one loses a treasure. Climb the nine heights. Do not pursue; in seven days it will be obtained." Moreover, wood in the Five Elements belongs to the East.
Fine. Even if Yang Feng's family learning was not extensive, if he hadn't read the 'Huainanzi' nor the 'Book of Changes', but since he quoted from the 'Book of Songs', it meant he had at least read the 'Songs'.
"The peach tree is young and elegant..." describes a beautiful woman's marriage. Using it in this context somewhat satirized Wei Ji for sitting safely at home, engaged in women's pastimes.
Wei Ji looked at Yang Feng and nodded. He neither grew angry nor continued discussing the peach branch. He simply gently pushed the vase with the peach branch aside and called a servant to prepare tea.
After a while, the tea was served.
Wei Ji extended one hand forward, using the other to pull back his sleeve with graceful deportment, inviting Yang Feng to drink. He said, "The spring air is still chilly; the dew is heavy, the mist dense. I have added some scallion and ginger. Though it carries a slight odor, it dispels cold and strengthens the body. Commander Yang, please drink."
Yang Feng did indeed smell a slightly pungent, spicy aroma of scallion and ginger. Naturally, he knew drinking such ginger tea to induce sweating helped dispel cold. Moreover, he was truly exhausted, both mentally and physically, from his journey. Having a bowl of such tea to drive out the chill and refresh himself was excellent. Without much thought, he picked up the tea bowl and drank it.
Wei Ji signaled for the servant to refill Yang Feng's bowl, then said leisurely, "I wonder where Commander Yang intends to go?"
"I have failed Lord Wei's entrustment; I am truly ashamed. But now that matters have come to this, my spirit is willing, but my strength is lacking. Therefore, I wish to go to Hongnong, seeking a place with mountains and waters to spend my remaining years—that would suffice." Though Yang Feng had spoken impulsively earlier, he had gradually calmed down. Speaking now of moving matters, his eyes even reddened slightly. The events of these years seemed to float before his eyes at this moment.
The shock upon learning he was a discarded branch of the Hongnong Yang clan...
The helplessness when his hometown elders were swept up and coerced by the Yellow Turbans...
The frustration of using his knowledge to gain status to save his fellow villagers' lives...
The fear that jolted him awake in the dead of night after committing those evils—arson, murder...
The rekindled hope when the Yang clan secretly sent someone to contact him...
At one time, Yang Feng even thought that through the power he commanded, he could rise from a marginal scion of a scholar-official family to a proper member of the gentry, obtain an official position in the court, formally return to the Hongnong Yang clan genealogy, and be able to kowtow once in the Yang clan ancestral hall, offer a stick of incense...
But his dream, his wish, his power, his reliance—all of it—had turned to bubbles, become nothingness beneath the walls of Pingyang City. Like a pleasant dream while sleeping in a drafty, dilapidated hut, awakening to find the bitter cold still piercing his bones.
Yang Feng hated Fei Qian, hated Yu Fuluo, even hated Wei Ji, hated the Hongnong Yang clan. But this hatred was meaningless now, for without power, even if he vented his full fury, what good would it do?
Like an ant, frantically waving its pincers—how much harm could it cause?
Yang Feng's heart grew cold with disappointment; his hair turned white overnight.
Though he still had fifty or sixty men with him, having escaped from Pingyang, what could he do? No money, no provisions. Go to the Yanshan Mountains to join the Black Mountain Army, continue the life of a Yellow Turban bandit?
Yang Feng felt tired. He didn't want to continue this life. That's why he had come to Wei Ji—first, to give some account to the Wei clan; second, to seek some provisions, enough to supply himself and his men on their way to Hongnong.
Wei Ji pondered for a moment, then said, "Victory and defeat are common in warfare. Why is Commander Yang so disheartened? The floating bridge at Shanjin is broken. The journey to Hongnong is somewhat inconvenient. Might the Commander consider changing course to the east?"
Wei Ji's words now were very plain—
What was to the east? The Taihang Mountains. And in the Taihang Mountains lay the stronghold of the Black Mountain Army!
Going east meant joining the Black Mountain troops, then continuing to exert his force and role as a pawn in the hands of the Wei clan, or perhaps the Yang clan...
But Yang Feng no longer much desired to continue the life of a Yellow Turban bandit. After thinking it over, he said, "After I return to Hongnong, I shall make plans then."
Wei Ji remained silent for a long while. Finally, he raised his tea bowl and said, "In that case, each to his own aspiration. Let this soup see Commander Yang off on his journey..."