Gradually, the snow melts. Duan Ling has a new home; this excites him far more than anything he’s ever experienced before. At first Lang Junxia questioned for quite a while whether he should hire some servants for the house, but Duan Ling doesn’t care about any of that at all. That day, he runs all over the house as though he has limitless energy, hanging a lantern at the door with the name “Duan” written on it, sweeping the snow in the main courtyard to the edges. He’s like a puppy who’s just been taken home, every location in the house the target of his curiosity, his footsteps reach every single inch of his new home, exploring it as though it’s an uncharted paradise.
Lang Junxia hasn’t recovered from his injuries yet, so after putting ointment on Duan Ling’s left eye, he lets him roam freely around the house.
“Can I plant something here?” Duan Ling asks, crouching in front of a small garden patch in the courtyard.
“Of course. This home is yours. It’s too late today though. I’ll go buy you some seeds at the market another day.”
Crouching, Duan Ling earnestly turns over soil, and Lang Junxia watches him, leaning on a wooden walking stick by the front door, and he stays there watching him for nearly an hour. Only when the sun begins to set does he say, “Come inside. It’s too cold in Shangjing and that makes it really hard to keep flowers alive here.”
Duan Ling grudgingly goes inside and finds Lang Junxia sitting in front of the stove, lighting a fire.
“I’m going to test you. What did you learn at the Illustrious Hall?”
“Black sky yellow earth, vast universe all chaos —” Duan Ling begins reciting the Thousand Character Classic. His brief holiday is going to end soon. Tomorrow, he’ll have to go back to school.
Lang Junxia takes a bowl and puts some pigskin in it. He puts it on the fire and lets it steam, adding water and then some brown sugar.
Duan Ling finishes reciting the entire Thousand Character Classic. Lang Junxia is quite surprised. “You’ve memorised it all.”
He got a few characters wrong in the middle, but Lang Junxia doesn’t point that out. He says seriously, “Very good, you really are scholar material after all. I’m injured so I can’t take you out today, and it’s too cold outside so there’s not many fun things to do anyway so I’ll owe you this time. Next month when spring is here I’ll take you out to see the sights.”
“It’s okay, you take your time and recuperate. What are you steaming? I saw sugar. Is it yummy?”
“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Lang Junxia answers thus.
Duan Ling has realised that no matter what question he asks, he almost never gets an answer from Lang Junxia, but he’s slowly gotten used to it.
In the night, Lang Junxia puts a bunch of plum blossoms in the bowls and leaves them outside.
Next day, when Lang Junxia brings him to the Illustrious Hall, he doesn’t leave first, and instead he watches Duan Ling, waiting for him to go. Duan Ling is already willing to accept this arrangement. Even though he doesn’t really want to part from Lang Junxia, he appears rather cheerful, and he’s the one to say to Lang Junxia, “Go home.”
A moment after, Lang Junxia leans on his crutch with one arm and extends the other, and Duan Ling wraps his arms around Lang Junxia’s waist, pressing his face against Lang Junxia’s chest.
“Do not casually tell anyone about us and our home when you’re at school.” Lang Junxia notices the gatekeeper watching them curiously, and with one arm around Duan Ling, he leans in close to tell him quietly by his ear, “Don’t say anything. You cannot judge a book by its cover. Be sure to keep that in mind.”
“This is for you,” Lang Junxia hands Duan Ling a food box. “Eat it as soon as possible. When I was little, my mom made this for me often.”
Duan Ling nods, and takes his leave of Lang Junxia.
Ever since he has been in Lang Junxia’s company, the two phrases Duan Ling has heard most often are don’t ask anything and don’t say anything. Lang Junxia is extremely cautious; it causes Duan Ling to also feel a sense of danger, which he doesn’t know what to do with. He doesn’t even know where to begin to ask.
Fortunately, children have a vivid imagination and Duan Ling has already fabricated an endless series of stories in his head; they rush at him like a tide, convoluted and innumerable. New theories replace old ones before they have a chance to make themselves coherent, and Lang Junxia’s vocation has gone through countless iterations from monster to vagrant to rich merchant and finally settling on swordsman.
He’s still thinking about their uninvited guest from the night before last — the shadow guards are after Lang Junxia, they were in incredible danger, but they’re safe now. Otherwise, Lang Junxia would have taken him and moved houses lest they be discovered.
They’re after him for the sake of finding someone else’s whereabouts — who can it be? Could it be my dad?
Duan Ling feels all of his blood has ignited in his veins at this thought. Maybe his dad is someone supremely important, and he’s asked Lang Junxia to come get him, take care of him, and once they meet all that’s obscure will come to light.
Duan Ling runs with the food box Lang Junxia has given him and nearly runs right into someone outside the side courtyard — who but Batu, trying to see what’s outside.
“What happened?” Batu asks, surprised. “Who hit your eye?”
Duan Ling answers, “It’s … it’s nothing.”
Duan Ling wants to go back to his room, but Batu’s actually come to talk to him. He wants to help Duan Ling carry his things, but Duan Ling won’t let go, thinking Batu wants to grab this stuff to look at it, and says in a panic, “What are you doing?!”
“Is he abusing you?” Batu asks.
“It’s nothing really …”
“Borjigin!” A stern voice rings out from behind them — it’s Cai Yan. Cai Yan stares at Batu with a threatening, frosty look on his face, and approaches them on slow steps. Batu has no choice but to let go of Duan Ling with a sneering hmph.
“Come over to my room in a bit,” Cai Yan says to Duan Ling, “I want to ask you about something.”
Duan Ling nods. Batu looks at Cai Yan and then at Duan Ling. Cai Yan doesn’t say anything at all, he expects that if Batu knows what’s good for him he wouldn’t keep bothering Duan Ling. Once Cai Yan leaves, Duan Ling explains to Batu, “It’s my own fault, I banged it on the corner of a table because I wasn’t being careful.”
“Someone punched you. Right in the corner of your eye. I can tell.”
Duan Ling is momentarily speechless, but Batu is already blurting out, “Forget it, all you Han are in your own little clique. I’m a Yuan dog, I should stay out of your business. Fine, I’ll leave.”
“Batu!”
Batu doesn’t even bother to look back at him before leaving. Duan Ling returns to his room to discover that the bedding he left in the library has already been moved back to his room, and his bed is neatly made.
Duan Ling opens the box. Inside are the sweets Lang Junxia gave him — glistening, translucent, coloured with brown sugar, with blooming plum blossoms jellied inside, cut into small pieces and neatly lined up next to each other. The more Duan Ling looks at them the less he can bear to simply eat them. After some thinking he leaves himself a portion and wraps the rest to give one each to Batu and Cai Yan.
It’s the first day back at school so there are no morning classes. It’s noisy and lively in the courtyard, all the kids are trading food with each other. Cai Yan is standing in the back courtyard of the Illustrious Hall with a few other youths, listening to the teacher’s lecture.
“Raise your hands high.” The teacher says, stern-faced. “Bow only at the waist.”
Cai Yan and the other four half-grown young men all put their clasped hands above their heads. The teacher checks them one by one and says, sounding annoyed, “No! You mustn’t bend at the knee! When you bow you cannot ever use your knees — the term ‘bending and scraping’ refers to exactly that!”
The young men emulate their teacher, bowing over and over. The teacher reminds them again, “A gentleman is cautious with words and decisive with action. When the Northern Prince2 is here, you must speak less and do more.”
“Yes, teacher.”
Watching the young men learn proper salutations, Duan Ling just finds Cai Yan very graceful and handsome when he does it, that’s why Duan Ling does it too — raising his hands above him and bowing to the wall in mimicry. The teacher lets them rest for a while, and when Cai Yan notices Duan Ling outside, he comes over to see him. Duan Ling hands him the pudding he’s been holding onto. “For you to eat.”
Cai Yan takes it without asking what it is, and he gets right to the point. “When my brother was searching the city two days past he went to your house. Are you okay?”
Duan Ling shakes his head at once and points at his eye, explaining without Cai Yan having to ask, “I banged it by accident.”
Cai Yan watches Duan Ling with a slight frown. “Isn’t your family running a business?”
Duan Ling has ‘clueless’ written all over his face, but he just nods. According to what Cai Yan heard from his brother that night, the Duans’ house looked really shabby and didn’t even hire any servants. The young master himself came to open the door on bare feet, and he was even beaten before. When he heard this, Cai Yan felt concerned for him.
“Who do you live with?” Cai Yan asks, “Your dad?”
“I …” Duan Ling doesn’t know how to describe Lang Junxia, and suddenly a phrase jumped to the forefront of his mind; he doesn’t even remember where he heard it from. “Child-kept husband.”
Cai Yan is struck dumb. He drops his forehead into his hand in disbelief. “Where did you hear that from? You can’t go around saying something like that. He must be a servant your family hired to keep you company.”
Duan Ling nods. Cai Yan asks another question, “Where’s your dad?”
“Doing business in the south,” Duan Ling answers as Lang Junxia taught him.
Cai Yan considers Duan Ling for a long time, and he’s come to realise that no matter who Duan Ling is talking to, he’s very well-behaved; he doesn’t get mad, and he gives an answer for every question he’s given. He can’t help saying a bit awkwardly, “Well, you’re obedient at least. Never mind. I actually asked you to come here to remind you to hang out more with other Han. If you need anything, look to the Han around you. Have you had schooling before?”
Duan Ling hasn’t found out yet that Han in Shangjing flock together and have their own clique. The non-Han have their own little societies as well. As for whatever Cai Yan’s asking him, he merely nods.
“Do you know Ding Zhi from the Viburnum?” Cai Yan changes the subject and asks.
Duan Ling doesn’t know how to answer that. Judging by his expression, Cai Yan can sort of guess that Duan Ling probably knows her.
“Ding Zhi is mad at my brother,” Cai Yan says. “Next time if you happen to see her please tell her to take it easy on him. But you don’t have to go out of your way to see her about this or anything.”
Duan Ling nods. Back in the inner courtyard, the headmaster coughs and Cai Yan hurries back for fear of getting beaten. Before he goes he adds, “If there’s anything you don’t understand, come see me.”
Duan Ling sneaks peeks at them from a distance and learns salutations for a while. Soon, he feels a chilliness near his belly and recalls that he still has a piece of cold pudding on the verge of melting from his warmth, and runs off to find Batu.
He finds Batu surrounded by a crowd of heckling children, wrestling with a tall youth. Batu’s face is red from straining; he’s bare to the waist, his upper body already exhibiting signs of the musculature of a young man. The way he crashes, trips, and flips his opponent is utterly ruthless. Suddenly noticing Duan Ling’s arrival, he loses his focus for a split second and gets flipped upside down by surprise.
The crowd breaks out in riotous laughter. Batu is so mad that both his cheeks and his ears go bright red. Duan Ling rushes forward to help him up, but Batu gets up on his own and moves away.
The children watch Duan Ling curiously. Batu turns around, and heads inside.
“Borjigin.” Duan Ling chases after him. “I brought you something.”
“Don’t call me by my last name!” Batu turns around angrily and pushes Duan Ling. The plum blossom pudding in Duan Ling’s hands falls onto the ground, and the door slams shut with a huge bang, startling him.
Everyone is laughing again; Duan Ling looks all embarrassed, unaware how he managed to make Batu mad. The young man who was wrestling with Batu earlier is walking towards him now, as though he’s going to say something, but Duan Ling feels a sense of dread from being in an unfamiliar environment, and for fear that someone would get him in trouble again, he quickly leaves the area.
The tall young man opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He watches as Duan Ling disappears behind the corridor.
Han congregates with other Han; non-Han congregates with other non-Han — that’s the unofficial rule in the Illustrious Hall. But in the eyes of these half-grown children there isn’t much of a sense of national enmity, and they don’t look at things with the xenophobic lens of those not of my tribe must not be of my heart3, either. It’s just that the Han resents the Yuan, Lian, and Xiqiang because they don’t bathe, have body odor, and because their conduct is barbarous, a disgrace to the educated class.
The non-Han on the other hand looks down on the Han because they’re pedantic and pretentious.
Duan Ling really was mistaken about them. That young man earlier too, just wanted to say a few things to comfort him, and teach him how to wrestle.
Of course, even if Duan Ling did understand his kind intentions he’d have politely declined. During lunch time, he’s surprised to find that the Illustrious Hall has been cleaned up very well today; the snow from the day before has been swept cleanly away, and even the garden’s fallen leaves have been collected. The headmaster and all the teachers have put on their formal best, and everyone is standing in neat lines, waiting for someone outside the gates.
What is the special occasion today? After lunch, Duan Ling peers out from the forecourt curiously, looking vacantly puzzled.
“Go back! All of you, go back!” The teacher says, “Classes start after lunch, be on your best behaviour today!”
From far away the first bell of the day rings, and the children quickly hurry back to their rooms to get ready before heading to their respective classes. The afternoon is routinely filled with basic education, reciting the Thousand Character Classic followed by copying characters out of the copybooks. Duan Ling picks up his brush, dips it in the ink on the ink slab, and barely gets a few characters written before there’s talking outside the primary school.
“They read in the morning and write in the afternoon,” a teacher’s voice says.
“Benevolence, righteousness, manners, wisdom, trustworthiness.” A full bodied voice says, “One ought to know how to write these five words.”
“Yes,” the teacher answers. “We’ve taught all of those already. Please come this way, my lord.”
“Let’s see the primary school first,” the voice says, then ignoring the teacher he comes in from the back door without asking.
A tall, strong middle-age man in his forties steps into the primary school. The teacher did not anticipate this, and hasten to tell the schoolchildren, “The Northern Prince has come to see you, come on, get up and greet him properly.”
The children put their brushes down and get to their feet, and with all kinds of salutation they greet the Northern Prince: some bowing with hands to their side, some to the front, some put a right fist in front of the left breast and half rise, and there are even some that kneel — one knee, both knees, their salutes vary depending on each tribe’s etiquette, truly in every way under the sun. On seeing this, the middle-age man breaks out in riotous laughter, nodding at them.
“You’re all going to be pillars of the empire in the future. Yeah. Not bad.”
Their visitor is the very northern prince chieftain of the Liao northern administration, Yelü Dashi. The emperor of Liao has changed the title of chieftain into “prince”; he controls all five circuits of the Khitan military, and save for the emperor, no one stands above him. Today, on nothing more than a whim, he first went to Biyong College and in the afternoon he came to the Illustrious Hall in order to encourage the students in Shangjing.
Lang Junxia hasn’t really taught Duan Ling any kind of salutations either, so he puts what he learned this morning to good use, raising both hands above his head and bowing solemnly.
“Good, good.” Yelü Dashi walks by Duan Ling’s side and gives him a smile.
The children finish their greetings and Yelü Dashi casually asks them some things before he turns and leaves with the teacher. Duan Ling sneaks a peek at the “prince” — he has a full beard, and he looks big and strong, but he seems to be really nice. Soon, the children start talking among themselves and the room boils over with noise all of a sudden, causing quite the commotion, but soon enough the room goes all quiet again. It turns out the teacher has returned.
“Put down your brushes, line up and go to the front courtyard,” the teacher instructs. “Short ones go in the front. Come on, line up, and then follow me.”
Yelü Dashi makes his rounds once, then he’s going to call out the children one by one, ready to hand out gifts. The students from all three levels come out to stand in line in the corridor, waiting for a teacher to call their names. Duan Ling looks this way and that but doesn’t see Batu.
The youth who was wrestling with Batu earlier in the day is at the end of the line in the group next to his. He sees Duan Ling looking around and realises what he’s thinking, so he says to Duan Ling, “Didn’t come.”
“Why didn’t he come?” Duan Ling asks.
The youth shakes his head and points at the east wing, then he spreads his hands to sign there’s nothing I can do. Duan Ling asks, “Is he ill?”
“No … no, he, he says he, doesn’t, doesn’t want to come.” It turns out the youth actually stutters. The kids hear him speaking, and both classes start to guffaw. When the teacher looks back at them with displeasure though the lines go quiet again.
While the teacher has turned away, Duan Ling leaves the line and quickly runs down the corridor to look for Batu.
Batu is sitting in the courtyard, the plum blossom pudding Duan Ling gave him earlier is on the table before him. Batu has his back to him, and from afar Duan Ling sees him unwrap the oilcloth around the pudding, folds the cloth neatly and tucks it away under his lapel, and then carefully blows away any dust on top of the pudding. And opening his mouth, he’s about to eat it.
Duan Ling yells, “Batu!”
Caught off-guard, Batu just about choke on the pudding. Duan Ling dashes over to pat his back, and only once he does manage to swallow it does a worn-out Batu go to find some water.
“The prince is here.” Duan Ling says, “He’s handing out things. It’s free — aren’t you going?”
“I’m not a dog. I don’t take gifts from Khitans. You go ahead.”
Batu goes inside the room, and so Duan Ling clings to the outside of the window. “Why?”
Batu says to Duan Ling, “Anyway, I won’t take it, and you shouldn’t take it either. Come into my room, let me talk to you.”
Duan Ling sorts out this quandary in his head for a while; he both wants “the prince”’s gift even though he doesn’t understand what this gift signifies, and he instinctively has a feeling that Batu is right. It’s just the same as how he never picked up those things the maids threw at him back in Runan no matter how much he wanted to eat them. There’s no kind of reasoning to it — just an instinct carved into his heart since the day he was born.
“Then I don’t want it either,” Duan Ling says.
Lying on the bed, Batu moves closer to the wall and pats the pillow, suggesting to Duan Ling that he should come over so they can take a nap together, but Duan Ling just turns, looks around, and runs off.
“Hey! Where’re you going?” Batu gets up and chases after him.
Duan Ling answers, “I’m going to go look.”
He doesn’t want a gift, but he can at least go see what it is, right?
It’s a single weasel tail bristle brush, plus a single tael of silver.
Batu and Duan Ling hide in the back courtyard, and they see some of the workers carrying in baskets filled with brushes. They’re not as nice as the ones Lang Junxia bought him. Batu puts a hand on Duan Ling’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Duan Ling’s attention is suddenly drawn to a thin, tall worker, and right at that moment, he happens to turn around, revealing his features. Duan Ling gets the feeling that he’s seen this man somewhere before.
In an instant, like a thunderbolt flashing across his brain, Duan Ling remembers.
That’s the man with the centipede he saw in the pharmacy evening before last! But the tattoo on his neck is gone! Is it the same person?
“Let’s go.” Batu says, “Do you want that?”
“Wait!” Duan Ling is full of misgivings. Why’s this man here? And why is he moving things in the back courtyard?
Wu Du unloads the brushes outside the courtyard and moves them into the front courtyard. With a deep furrow between his brows, Duan Ling follows him all the way there. Batu is already getting impatient, and he pulls Duan Ling behind the gallery. When Wu Du turns his head a bit he only catches Batu’s face.
Batu has distinct features; a tall nose, deep-set eyes, a hint of blue in his irises, and he’s also dressed in the fashion of the Yuan. One glance and Wu Du figures it’s just some kid inside the courtyard looking around. No longer concerned, he keeps walking towards the lined-up groups at a quick pace, but as he does so his eyes scan over the children in line one by one.
He doesn’t find the person he’s looking for, and so he goes around to a window of the hall, crosses his arms, and listens in on the conversation happening inside.
A bunch of half grown young men are lined up in the front hall, including Cai Yan, all of them greeting Yelü Dashi.
“Very good.” Yelü Dashi is obviously pleased with the youths. The teacher calls out their names and as each name is called, the one who’s called walks forward, kneels, and kowtows to Yelü Dashi. Then Yelü Dashi takes the silver and a brush from the bodyguard next to him and hands them to the youth personally while saying something encouraging.
“Where’s the kid from the Helian house?” Yelü Dashi seems to recall something, and asks the teacher.
“Helian Bo! Helian Bo!” The teacher immediately goes outside to call for him, and the stammering youth who wrestled with Batu earlier hurries in.
Yelü Dashi nods at him. “Are you getting used to Shangjing?”
“Your … your highness,” the youth named Helian Bo says, “Used, used to it, thank you for your favour, your highness.”
Once he finishes speaking, he doesn’t wait for instructions from Yelü Dashi before decisively kneeling, and kowtows three times, loudly. Yelü Dashi feels vastly pleased with this, and his candid laughter can be heard all the way out in the courtyard. He helps Helian Bo up personally, puts the gift into his hand himself and makes Helian Bo close his fingers over it, patting him on the back of the hand quite amicably.
Helian Bo nods, turns away, and goes outside. The moment he’s outside he gets extremely angry — he throws the gift into the garden and stomps on it until it’s broken into pieces. As he’s about to leave, Batu waves at him. Helian Bo frowns, and after looking left and right, he runs toward Batu.
In the hall.
“What about the one from the House of Borjigin?” Yelü Dashi asks.
So the teacher now has to find him too. Batu goes into hiding with Duan Ling at once.
And while all this is going on, Wu Du narrows his eyes behind the window frame, turning his head and scrutinising the youths inside the hall.
The teacher has gone to look for Batu, but some time passes without his return while all the young men are waiting, so Yelü Dashi asks, “What about Han Jieli? He’s here right?”
“Greetings, your highness.” The Han family’s little chubby boy takes a step forward from the line of youths, saluting Yelü Dashi formally, but doesn’t kneel.
“You’ve gained more weight.” Yelü Dashi laughs. “You’re almost like your dad now.”
All the youths begin laughing; Han Jieli’s face goes bright red and he doesn’t say anything. Yelü Dashi encourages him, “Work hard at your studies.”
“That person is very odd,” Duan Ling says.
“What … what person?” Helian Bo asks, confounded.
Duan Ling says, “He has a sword.”
Both Helian Bo and Batu are straightaway shocked. Duan Ling realises that he’s blurted out something he shouldn’t have, and shuts his mouth at once.
Batu asks, “It’s an assassin, and you’ve seen him before?”
Duan Ling corrects himself, “Never seen him before, but don’t you think he looks like someone who’d have a sword?”
Batu and Helian Bo observe him for a moment. Helian Bo says, “That that that … that person, is is is …” He’s so worked up suddenly that he can’t even get his words out right. He slaps at Batu’s hand. “Hand! Hand!”
Batu has noticed as well. “He’s a martial artist. His sword is hidden behind his back — it’s an assassin! Duan Ling, I can’t believe you noticed that!”
Duan Ling has accidentally hit it right on the nose, but he can’t figure out what this man is here for. Maybe his vocation is assassin and he part-times as an odd-jobs worker?
Back inside the hall, Yelü Dashi waits and waits but that bastard from the house of Borjigin never does show up, so he has no choice but to tell the teacher to keep reading down the list. Cai Yan is standing at the back of the line and looks quite nervous, but only because he took the pudding Duan Ling gave him earlier and didn’t think about it much before tucking it away under his clothes. Sadly, plum blossom pudding is a cold dessert, and what with learning etiquette in the courtyard earlier and standing in the front court to greet guests, it didn’t matter outside in the cold weather, but now that he’s gone into a warm hall and have been warming it up all the while with his body, the pudding has melted away. Once melted it’s all just sugar water, seeping through his clothes and dripping down his sleeve.
Cai Yan is quietly saying damn it to himself, but Yelü Dashi is already right in front of him.
“You’re …” Yelü Dashi thinks about it for ages but he can’t recall Cai Yan’s name.
Cai Yan gives his salutations respectfully, and he’s about to answer, but Yelü Dashi has no interest in this Han face at all. Presuming that he isn’t anyone important, Yelü Dashi issues him a gift and sends him on his way.
Outside, the other youths look on as Cai Yan drips a reddish-brown trail of water behind him as he moves rapidly through the corridor.
A slight furrow appears between Wu Du’s brows as if he’s realised something, and he goes after Cai Yan. He sees Cai Yan hide behind the rockery and quickly untie his gown to remove something wrapped in oilcloth, completely soaked through on the outside. He unwraps it to reveal a handful of wet plum blossoms.
Cai Yan nearly goes mad, and as he wipes down his gown, a voice suddenly rings out behind him.
“A plum blossom pudding made for you by a Xianbei man?”
Cai Yan’s about to turn his head, but the man behind him reaches out and puts a hand over his mouth and nose. Before Cai Yan can make a sound, he faints dead away.
“He took the Cai dog!” Batu is flabbergasted. “Is he an enemy of the Cais?”
“Save him?” Helian Bo asks.
The three of them stare at each other, having no idea what to do, entirely unable to guess at Wu Du’s motives. But Duan Ling knows what Wu Du is capable of and runs out there immediately. Helian Bo and Batu quickly follow him. Wu Du runs through the corridor into the back courtyard, and on hearing footsteps approaching of Yelu Dashi’s bodyguards doing their rounds, he sets the unconscious Cai Yan down behind a tree and stands there looking down with his hands at his sides.
“Come with me!” Batu says quietly.
Batu takes Helian Bo and Duan Ling on a detour around the back courtyard. Duan Ling wants to go save Cai Yan, but Helian Bo grabs a hold of him and drags him along. The three of them speak quickly with each other as they run.
Duan Ling asks, “Are we not going to tell the headmaster?”
“Wait for the headmaster to get someone?” Batu says, “The corpse will be cold by the time he comes back!”
“Wait! Wait! He … wants, wants …” Whenever Helian Bo gets nervous he gets inarticulate; Duan Ling and Batu are both on the edge of their seats listening to him, wishing they can turn him upside down and shake his words out all at once. Finally, Helian Bo gives up on talking and points at the inner courtyard.
Duan Ling says, “Does he mean we should go get the prince?”
Helian Bo nods hurriedly. Batu waves that idea off. “The Yelü dog won’t care about Han lives. He only cares about himself.”
“Right!” Helian Bo comes to a complete realisation, and nods.
Duan Ling is anxious beyond anything. “Then what do we do?”
“Helian talks too slow.” Batu directs, “You, go to the guardsman headquarters and find Cai dog’s older brother. Me and Helian will think of some way to save him.”
Duan Ling says, “I don’t know where that is.”
Batu doesn’t know what to say; he gives up. “I’ll go. You two follow him.”
Wu Du has picked up Cai Yan and he’s about to leave.
Thereupon Duan Ling and Helian Bo run out of the corridor to follow Wu Du. Suddenly, Duan Ling’s collar tightens around him as he’s grabbed and dragged behind the corridor.
Duan Ling’s about to yell when a hand covers his mouth. He turns to find a masked man wearing a cloak.
Helian Bo though, is quite cool-headed. He throws himself towards them to get Duan Ling back, but the masked man casually flicks a spot half an inch below his throat and Helian Bo falls right onto the ground, at once unable to say a word or move an inch.
Duan Ling is pulled into the masked man’s arms, where he’s hit with a familiar scent; the masked man moves Duan Ling one step to the side, out of Helian Bo line of sight, and puts a finger in front of his mouth signalling him to be quiet, the corner of his mouth curving up, suggesting that Duan Ling should stay calm.
Duan Ling thinks, oh.
The masked man claps Helian Bo, releasing him from the acupuncture seal. Then, he quickly dashes out of the back courtyard, off to make trouble for Wu Du.
I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
The Liao dynasty, unfortunately, was too short-lived to leave us with English-Khitan dictionary for all their titles, so I’ll have to improvise. 北院大王 directly translates to “Imperial Prince of the Northern Administration”, but he’s really more of a grand commander or marshal. This was a later development in Liao history, the title used to be a Khitan word that meant “chieftain”. ↩︎
A very, very old phrase from the Zhuo zhuan.
Gradually, the snow melts. Duan Ling has a new home; this excites him far more than anything he’s ever experienced before. At first Lang Junxia questioned for quite a while whether he should hire some servants for the house, but Duan Ling doesn’t care about any of that at all. That day, he runs all over the house as though he has limitless energy, hanging a lantern at the door with the name “Duan” written on it, sweeping the snow in the main courtyard to the edges. He’s like a puppy who’s just been taken home, every location in the house the target of his curiosity, his footsteps reach every single inch of his new home, exploring it as though it’s an uncharted paradise.
Lang Junxia hasn’t recovered from his injuries yet, so after putting ointment on Duan Ling’s left eye, he lets him roam freely around the house.
“Can I plant something here?” Duan Ling asks, crouching in front of a small garden patch in the courtyard.
“Of course. This home is yours. It’s too late today though. I’ll go buy you some seeds at the market another day.”
Crouching, Duan Ling earnestly turns over soil, and Lang Junxia watches him, leaning on a wooden walking stick by the front door, and he stays there watching him for nearly an hour. Only when the sun begins to set does he say, “Come inside. It’s too cold in Shangjing and that makes it really hard to keep flowers alive here.”
Duan Ling grudgingly goes inside and finds Lang Junxia sitting in front of the stove, lighting a fire.
“I’m going to test you. What did you learn at the Illustrious Hall?”
“Black sky yellow earth, vast universe all chaos —” Duan Ling begins reciting the Thousand Character Classic. His brief holiday is going to end soon. Tomorrow, he’ll have to go back to school.
Lang Junxia takes a bowl and puts some pigskin in it. He puts it on the fire and lets it steam, adding water and then some brown sugar.
Duan Ling finishes reciting the entire Thousand Character Classic. Lang Junxia is quite surprised. “You’ve memorised it all.”
He got a few characters wrong in the middle, but Lang Junxia doesn’t point that out. He says seriously, “Very good, you really are scholar material after all. I’m injured so I can’t take you out today, and it’s too cold outside so there’s not many fun things to do anyway so I’ll owe you this time. Next month when spring is here I’ll take you out to see the sights.”
“It’s okay, you take your time and recuperate. What are you steaming? I saw sugar. Is it yummy?”
“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Lang Junxia answers thus.
Duan Ling has realised that no matter what question he asks, he almost never gets an answer from Lang Junxia, but he’s slowly gotten used to it.
In the night, Lang Junxia puts a bunch of plum blossoms in the bowls and leaves them outside.
Next day, when Lang Junxia brings him to the Illustrious Hall, he doesn’t leave first, and instead he watches Duan Ling, waiting for him to go. Duan Ling is already willing to accept this arrangement. Even though he doesn’t really want to part from Lang Junxia, he appears rather cheerful, and he’s the one to say to Lang Junxia, “Go home.”
A moment after, Lang Junxia leans on his crutch with one arm and extends the other, and Duan Ling wraps his arms around Lang Junxia’s waist, pressing his face against Lang Junxia’s chest.
“Do not casually tell anyone about us and our home when you’re at school.” Lang Junxia notices the gatekeeper watching them curiously, and with one arm around Duan Ling, he leans in close to tell him quietly by his ear, “Don’t say anything. You cannot judge a book by its cover. Be sure to keep that in mind.”
“This is for you,” Lang Junxia hands Duan Ling a food box. “Eat it as soon as possible. When I was little, my mom made this for me often.”
Duan Ling nods, and takes his leave of Lang Junxia.
Ever since he has been in Lang Junxia’s company, the two phrases Duan Ling has heard most often are don’t ask anything and don’t say anything. Lang Junxia is extremely cautious; it causes Duan Ling to also feel a sense of danger, which he doesn’t know what to do with. He doesn’t even know where to begin to ask.
Fortunately, children have a vivid imagination and Duan Ling has already fabricated an endless series of stories in his head; they rush at him like a tide, convoluted and innumerable. New theories replace old ones before they have a chance to make themselves coherent, and Lang Junxia’s vocation has gone through countless iterations from monster to vagrant to rich merchant and finally settling on swordsman.
He’s still thinking about their uninvited guest from the night before last — the shadow guards are after Lang Junxia, they were in incredible danger, but they’re safe now. Otherwise, Lang Junxia would have taken him and moved houses lest they be discovered.
They’re after him for the sake of finding someone else’s whereabouts — who can it be? Could it be my dad?
Duan Ling feels all of his blood has ignited in his veins at this thought. Maybe his dad is someone supremely important, and he’s asked Lang Junxia to come get him, take care of him, and once they meet all that’s obscure will come to light.
Duan Ling runs with the food box Lang Junxia has given him and nearly runs right into someone outside the side courtyard — who but Batu, trying to see what’s outside.
“What happened?” Batu asks, surprised. “Who hit your eye?”
Duan Ling answers, “It’s … it’s nothing.”
Duan Ling wants to go back to his room, but Batu’s actually come to talk to him. He wants to help Duan Ling carry his things, but Duan Ling won’t let go, thinking Batu wants to grab this stuff to look at it, and says in a panic, “What are you doing?!”
“Is he abusing you?” Batu asks.
“It’s nothing really …”
“Borjigin!” A stern voice rings out from behind them — it’s Cai Yan. Cai Yan stares at Batu with a threatening, frosty look on his face, and approaches them on slow steps. Batu has no choice but to let go of Duan Ling with a sneering hmph.
“Come over to my room in a bit,” Cai Yan says to Duan Ling, “I want to ask you about something.”
Duan Ling nods. Batu looks at Cai Yan and then at Duan Ling. Cai Yan doesn’t say anything at all, he expects that if Batu knows what’s good for him he wouldn’t keep bothering Duan Ling. Once Cai Yan leaves, Duan Ling explains to Batu, “It’s my own fault, I banged it on the corner of a table because I wasn’t being careful.”
“Someone punched you. Right in the corner of your eye. I can tell.”
Duan Ling is momentarily speechless, but Batu is already blurting out, “Forget it, all you Han are in your own little clique. I’m a Yuan dog, I should stay out of your business. Fine, I’ll leave.”
“Batu!”
Batu doesn’t even bother to look back at him before leaving. Duan Ling returns to his room to discover that the bedding he left in the library has already been moved back to his room, and his bed is neatly made.
Duan Ling opens the box. Inside are the sweets Lang Junxia gave him — glistening, translucent, coloured with brown sugar, with blooming plum blossoms jellied inside, cut into small pieces and neatly lined up next to each other. The more Duan Ling looks at them the less he can bear to simply eat them. After some thinking he leaves himself a portion and wraps the rest to give one each to Batu and Cai Yan.
It’s the first day back at school so there are no morning classes. It’s noisy and lively in the courtyard, all the kids are trading food with each other. Cai Yan is standing in the back courtyard of the Illustrious Hall with a few other youths, listening to the teacher’s lecture.
“Raise your hands high.” The teacher says, stern-faced. “Bow only at the waist.”
Cai Yan and the other four half-grown young men all put their clasped hands above their heads. The teacher checks them one by one and says, sounding annoyed, “No! You mustn’t bend at the knee! When you bow you cannot ever use your knees — the term ‘bending and scraping’ refers to exactly that!”
The young men emulate their teacher, bowing over and over. The teacher reminds them again, “A gentleman is cautious with words and decisive with action. When the Northern Prince2 is here, you must speak less and do more.”
“Yes, teacher.”
Watching the young men learn proper salutations, Duan Ling just finds Cai Yan very graceful and handsome when he does it, that’s why Duan Ling does it too — raising his hands above him and bowing to the wall in mimicry. The teacher lets them rest for a while, and when Cai Yan notices Duan Ling outside, he comes over to see him. Duan Ling hands him the pudding he’s been holding onto. “For you to eat.”
Cai Yan takes it without asking what it is, and he gets right to the point. “When my brother was searching the city two days past he went to your house. Are you okay?”
Duan Ling shakes his head at once and points at his eye, explaining without Cai Yan having to ask, “I banged it by accident.”
Cai Yan watches Duan Ling with a slight frown. “Isn’t your family running a business?”
Duan Ling has ‘clueless’ written all over his face, but he just nods. According to what Cai Yan heard from his brother that night, the Duans’ house looked really shabby and didn’t even hire any servants. The young master himself came to open the door on bare feet, and he was even beaten before. When he heard this, Cai Yan felt concerned for him.
“Who do you live with?” Cai Yan asks, “Your dad?”
“I …” Duan Ling doesn’t know how to describe Lang Junxia, and suddenly a phrase jumped to the forefront of his mind; he doesn’t even remember where he heard it from. “Child-kept husband.”
Cai Yan is struck dumb. He drops his forehead into his hand in disbelief. “Where did you hear that from? You can’t go around saying something like that. He must be a servant your family hired to keep you company.”
Duan Ling nods. Cai Yan asks another question, “Where’s your dad?”
“Doing business in the south,” Duan Ling answers as Lang Junxia taught him.
Cai Yan considers Duan Ling for a long time, and he’s come to realise that no matter who Duan Ling is talking to, he’s very well-behaved; he doesn’t get mad, and he gives an answer for every question he’s given. He can’t help saying a bit awkwardly, “Well, you’re obedient at least. Never mind. I actually asked you to come here to remind you to hang out more with other Han. If you need anything, look to the Han around you. Have you had schooling before?”
Duan Ling hasn’t found out yet that Han in Shangjing flock together and have their own clique. The non-Han have their own little societies as well. As for whatever Cai Yan’s asking him, he merely nods.
“Do you know Ding Zhi from the Viburnum?” Cai Yan changes the subject and asks.
Duan Ling doesn’t know how to answer that. Judging by his expression, Cai Yan can sort of guess that Duan Ling probably knows her.
“Ding Zhi is mad at my brother,” Cai Yan says. “Next time if you happen to see her please tell her to take it easy on him. But you don’t have to go out of your way to see her about this or anything.”
Duan Ling nods. Back in the inner courtyard, the headmaster coughs and Cai Yan hurries back for fear of getting beaten. Before he goes he adds, “If there’s anything you don’t understand, come see me.”
Duan Ling sneaks peeks at them from a distance and learns salutations for a while. Soon, he feels a chilliness near his belly and recalls that he still has a piece of cold pudding on the verge of melting from his warmth, and runs off to find Batu.
He finds Batu surrounded by a crowd of heckling children, wrestling with a tall youth. Batu’s face is red from straining; he’s bare to the waist, his upper body already exhibiting signs of the musculature of a young man. The way he crashes, trips, and flips his opponent is utterly ruthless. Suddenly noticing Duan Ling’s arrival, he loses his focus for a split second and gets flipped upside down by surprise.
The crowd breaks out in riotous laughter. Batu is so mad that both his cheeks and his ears go bright red. Duan Ling rushes forward to help him up, but Batu gets up on his own and moves away.
The children watch Duan Ling curiously. Batu turns around, and heads inside.
“Borjigin.” Duan Ling chases after him. “I brought you something.”
“Don’t call me by my last name!” Batu turns around angrily and pushes Duan Ling. The plum blossom pudding in Duan Ling’s hands falls onto the ground, and the door slams shut with a huge bang, startling him.
Everyone is laughing again; Duan Ling looks all embarrassed, unaware how he managed to make Batu mad. The young man who was wrestling with Batu earlier is walking towards him now, as though he’s going to say something, but Duan Ling feels a sense of dread from being in an unfamiliar environment, and for fear that someone would get him in trouble again, he quickly leaves the area.
The tall young man opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He watches as Duan Ling disappears behind the corridor.
Han congregates with other Han; non-Han congregates with other non-Han — that’s the unofficial rule in the Illustrious Hall. But in the eyes of these half-grown children there isn’t much of a sense of national enmity, and they don’t look at things with the xenophobic lens of those not of my tribe must not be of my heart3, either. It’s just that the Han resents the Yuan, Lian, and Xiqiang because they don’t bathe, have body odor, and because their conduct is barbarous, a disgrace to the educated class.
The non-Han on the other hand looks down on the Han because they’re pedantic and pretentious.
Duan Ling really was mistaken about them. That young man earlier too, just wanted to say a few things to comfort him, and teach him how to wrestle.
Of course, even if Duan Ling did understand his kind intentions he’d have politely declined. During lunch time, he’s surprised to find that the Illustrious Hall has been cleaned up very well today; the snow from the day before has been swept cleanly away, and even the garden’s fallen leaves have been collected. The headmaster and all the teachers have put on their formal best, and everyone is standing in neat lines, waiting for someone outside the gates.
What is the special occasion today? After lunch, Duan Ling peers out from the forecourt curiously, looking vacantly puzzled.
“Go back! All of you, go back!” The teacher says, “Classes start after lunch, be on your best behaviour today!”
From far away the first bell of the day rings, and the children quickly hurry back to their rooms to get ready before heading to their respective classes. The afternoon is routinely filled with basic education, reciting the Thousand Character Classic followed by copying characters out of the copybooks. Duan Ling picks up his brush, dips it in the ink on the ink slab, and barely gets a few characters written before there’s talking outside the primary school.
“They read in the morning and write in the afternoon,” a teacher’s voice says.
“Benevolence, righteousness, manners, wisdom, trustworthiness.” A full bodied voice says, “One ought to know how to write these five words.”
“Yes,” the teacher answers. “We’ve taught all of those already. Please come this way, my lord.”
“Let’s see the primary school first,” the voice says, then ignoring the teacher he comes in from the back door without asking.
A tall, strong middle-age man in his forties steps into the primary school. The teacher did not anticipate this, and hasten to tell the schoolchildren, “The Northern Prince has come to see you, come on, get up and greet him properly.”
The children put their brushes down and get to their feet, and with all kinds of salutation they greet the Northern Prince: some bowing with hands to their side, some to the front, some put a right fist in front of the left breast and half rise, and there are even some that kneel — one knee, both knees, their salutes vary depending on each tribe’s etiquette, truly in every way under the sun. On seeing this, the middle-age man breaks out in riotous laughter, nodding at them.
“You’re all going to be pillars of the empire in the future. Yeah. Not bad.”
Their visitor is the very northern prince chieftain of the Liao northern administration, Yelü Dashi. The emperor of Liao has changed the title of chieftain into “prince”; he controls all five circuits of the Khitan military, and save for the emperor, no one stands above him. Today, on nothing more than a whim, he first went to Biyong College and in the afternoon he came to the Illustrious Hall in order to encourage the students in Shangjing.
Lang Junxia hasn’t really taught Duan Ling any kind of salutations either, so he puts what he learned this morning to good use, raising both hands above his head and bowing solemnly.
“Good, good.” Yelü Dashi walks by Duan Ling’s side and gives him a smile.
The children finish their greetings and Yelü Dashi casually asks them some things before he turns and leaves with the teacher. Duan Ling sneaks a peek at the “prince” — he has a full beard, and he looks big and strong, but he seems to be really nice. Soon, the children start talking among themselves and the room boils over with noise all of a sudden, causing quite the commotion, but soon enough the room goes all quiet again. It turns out the teacher has returned.
“Put down your brushes, line up and go to the front courtyard,” the teacher instructs. “Short ones go in the front. Come on, line up, and then follow me.”
Yelü Dashi makes his rounds once, then he’s going to call out the children one by one, ready to hand out gifts. The students from all three levels come out to stand in line in the corridor, waiting for a teacher to call their names. Duan Ling looks this way and that but doesn’t see Batu.
The youth who was wrestling with Batu earlier in the day is at the end of the line in the group next to his. He sees Duan Ling looking around and realises what he’s thinking, so he says to Duan Ling, “Didn’t come.”
“Why didn’t he come?” Duan Ling asks.
The youth shakes his head and points at the east wing, then he spreads his hands to sign there’s nothing I can do. Duan Ling asks, “Is he ill?”
“No … no, he, he says he, doesn’t, doesn’t want to come.” It turns out the youth actually stutters. The kids hear him speaking, and both classes start to guffaw. When the teacher looks back at them with displeasure though the lines go quiet again.
While the teacher has turned away, Duan Ling leaves the line and quickly runs down the corridor to look for Batu.
Batu is sitting in the courtyard, the plum blossom pudding Duan Ling gave him earlier is on the table before him. Batu has his back to him, and from afar Duan Ling sees him unwrap the oilcloth around the pudding, folds the cloth neatly and tucks it away under his lapel, and then carefully blows away any dust on top of the pudding. And opening his mouth, he’s about to eat it.
Duan Ling yells, “Batu!”
Caught off-guard, Batu just about choke on the pudding. Duan Ling dashes over to pat his back, and only once he does manage to swallow it does a worn-out Batu go to find some water.
“The prince is here.” Duan Ling says, “He’s handing out things. It’s free — aren’t you going?”
“I’m not a dog. I don’t take gifts from Khitans. You go ahead.”
Batu goes inside the room, and so Duan Ling clings to the outside of the window. “Why?”
Batu says to Duan Ling, “Anyway, I won’t take it, and you shouldn’t take it either. Come into my room, let me talk to you.”
Duan Ling sorts out this quandary in his head for a while; he both wants “the prince”’s gift even though he doesn’t understand what this gift signifies, and he instinctively has a feeling that Batu is right. It’s just the same as how he never picked up those things the maids threw at him back in Runan no matter how much he wanted to eat them. There’s no kind of reasoning to it — just an instinct carved into his heart since the day he was born.
“Then I don’t want it either,” Duan Ling says.
Lying on the bed, Batu moves closer to the wall and pats the pillow, suggesting to Duan Ling that he should come over so they can take a nap together, but Duan Ling just turns, looks around, and runs off.
“Hey! Where’re you going?” Batu gets up and chases after him.
Duan Ling answers, “I’m going to go look.”
He doesn’t want a gift, but he can at least go see what it is, right?
It’s a single weasel tail bristle brush, plus a single tael of silver.
Batu and Duan Ling hide in the back courtyard, and they see some of the workers carrying in baskets filled with brushes. They’re not as nice as the ones Lang Junxia bought him. Batu puts a hand on Duan Ling’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Duan Ling’s attention is suddenly drawn to a thin, tall worker, and right at that moment, he happens to turn around, revealing his features. Duan Ling gets the feeling that he’s seen this man somewhere before.
In an instant, like a thunderbolt flashing across his brain, Duan Ling remembers.
That’s the man with the centipede he saw in the pharmacy evening before last! But the tattoo on his neck is gone! Is it the same person?
“Let’s go.” Batu says, “Do you want that?”
“Wait!” Duan Ling is full of misgivings. Why’s this man here? And why is he moving things in the back courtyard?
Wu Du unloads the brushes outside the courtyard and moves them into the front courtyard. With a deep furrow between his brows, Duan Ling follows him all the way there. Batu is already getting impatient, and he pulls Duan Ling behind the gallery. When Wu Du turns his head a bit he only catches Batu’s face.
Batu has distinct features; a tall nose, deep-set eyes, a hint of blue in his irises, and he’s also dressed in the fashion of the Yuan. One glance and Wu Du figures it’s just some kid inside the courtyard looking around. No longer concerned, he keeps walking towards the lined-up groups at a quick pace, but as he does so his eyes scan over the children in line one by one.
He doesn’t find the person he’s looking for, and so he goes around to a window of the hall, crosses his arms, and listens in on the conversation happening inside.
A bunch of half grown young men are lined up in the front hall, including Cai Yan, all of them greeting Yelü Dashi.
“Very good.” Yelü Dashi is obviously pleased with the youths. The teacher calls out their names and as each name is called, the one who’s called walks forward, kneels, and kowtows to Yelü Dashi. Then Yelü Dashi takes the silver and a brush from the bodyguard next to him and hands them to the youth personally while saying something encouraging.
“Where’s the kid from the Helian house?” Yelü Dashi seems to recall something, and asks the teacher.
“Helian Bo! Helian Bo!” The teacher immediately goes outside to call for him, and the stammering youth who wrestled with Batu earlier hurries in.
Yelü Dashi nods at him. “Are you getting used to Shangjing?”
“Your … your highness,” the youth named Helian Bo says, “Used, used to it, thank you for your favour, your highness.”
Once he finishes speaking, he doesn’t wait for instructions from Yelü Dashi before decisively kneeling, and kowtows three times, loudly. Yelü Dashi feels vastly pleased with this, and his candid laughter can be heard all the way out in the courtyard. He helps Helian Bo up personally, puts the gift into his hand himself and makes Helian Bo close his fingers over it, patting him on the back of the hand quite amicably.
Helian Bo nods, turns away, and goes outside. The moment he’s outside he gets extremely angry — he throws the gift into the garden and stomps on it until it’s broken into pieces. As he’s about to leave, Batu waves at him. Helian Bo frowns, and after looking left and right, he runs toward Batu.
In the hall.
“What about the one from the House of Borjigin?” Yelü Dashi asks.
So the teacher now has to find him too. Batu goes into hiding with Duan Ling at once.
And while all this is going on, Wu Du narrows his eyes behind the window frame, turning his head and scrutinising the youths inside the hall.
The teacher has gone to look for Batu, but some time passes without his return while all the young men are waiting, so Yelü Dashi asks, “What about Han Jieli? He’s here right?”
“Greetings, your highness.” The Han family’s little chubby boy takes a step forward from the line of youths, saluting Yelü Dashi formally, but doesn’t kneel.
“You’ve gained more weight.” Yelü Dashi laughs. “You’re almost like your dad now.”
All the youths begin laughing; Han Jieli’s face goes bright red and he doesn’t say anything. Yelü Dashi encourages him, “Work hard at your studies.”
“That person is very odd,” Duan Ling says.
“What … what person?” Helian Bo asks, confounded.
Duan Ling says, “He has a sword.”
Both Helian Bo and Batu are straightaway shocked. Duan Ling realises that he’s blurted out something he shouldn’t have, and shuts his mouth at once.
Batu asks, “It’s an assassin, and you’ve seen him before?”
Duan Ling corrects himself, “Never seen him before, but don’t you think he looks like someone who’d have a sword?”
Batu and Helian Bo observe him for a moment. Helian Bo says, “That that that … that person, is is is …” He’s so worked up suddenly that he can’t even get his words out right. He slaps at Batu’s hand. “Hand! Hand!”
Batu has noticed as well. “He’s a martial artist. His sword is hidden behind his back — it’s an assassin! Duan Ling, I can’t believe you noticed that!”
Duan Ling has accidentally hit it right on the nose, but he can’t figure out what this man is here for. Maybe his vocation is assassin and he part-times as an odd-jobs worker?
Back inside the hall, Yelü Dashi waits and waits but that bastard from the house of Borjigin never does show up, so he has no choice but to tell the teacher to keep reading down the list. Cai Yan is standing at the back of the line and looks quite nervous, but only because he took the pudding Duan Ling gave him earlier and didn’t think about it much before tucking it away under his clothes. Sadly, plum blossom pudding is a cold dessert, and what with learning etiquette in the courtyard earlier and standing in the front court to greet guests, it didn’t matter outside in the cold weather, but now that he’s gone into a warm hall and have been warming it up all the while with his body, the pudding has melted away. Once melted it’s all just sugar water, seeping through his clothes and dripping down his sleeve.
Cai Yan is quietly saying damn it to himself, but Yelü Dashi is already right in front of him.
“You’re …” Yelü Dashi thinks about it for ages but he can’t recall Cai Yan’s name.
Cai Yan gives his salutations respectfully, and he’s about to answer, but Yelü Dashi has no interest in this Han face at all. Presuming that he isn’t anyone important, Yelü Dashi issues him a gift and sends him on his way.
Outside, the other youths look on as Cai Yan drips a reddish-brown trail of water behind him as he moves rapidly through the corridor.
A slight furrow appears between Wu Du’s brows as if he’s realised something, and he goes after Cai Yan. He sees Cai Yan hide behind the rockery and quickly untie his gown to remove something wrapped in oilcloth, completely soaked through on the outside. He unwraps it to reveal a handful of wet plum blossoms.
Cai Yan nearly goes mad, and as he wipes down his gown, a voice suddenly rings out behind him.
“A plum blossom pudding made for you by a Xianbei man?”
Cai Yan’s about to turn his head, but the man behind him reaches out and puts a hand over his mouth and nose. Before Cai Yan can make a sound, he faints dead away.
“He took the Cai dog!” Batu is flabbergasted. “Is he an enemy of the Cais?”
“Save him?” Helian Bo asks.
The three of them stare at each other, having no idea what to do, entirely unable to guess at Wu Du’s motives. But Duan Ling knows what Wu Du is capable of and runs out there immediately. Helian Bo and Batu quickly follow him. Wu Du runs through the corridor into the back courtyard, and on hearing footsteps approaching of Yelu Dashi’s bodyguards doing their rounds, he sets the unconscious Cai Yan down behind a tree and stands there looking down with his hands at his sides.
“Come with me!” Batu says quietly.
Batu takes Helian Bo and Duan Ling on a detour around the back courtyard. Duan Ling wants to go save Cai Yan, but Helian Bo grabs a hold of him and drags him along. The three of them speak quickly with each other as they run.
Duan Ling asks, “Are we not going to tell the headmaster?”
“Wait for the headmaster to get someone?” Batu says, “The corpse will be cold by the time he comes back!”
“Wait! Wait! He … wants, wants …” Whenever Helian Bo gets nervous he gets inarticulate; Duan Ling and Batu are both on the edge of their seats listening to him, wishing they can turn him upside down and shake his words out all at once. Finally, Helian Bo gives up on talking and points at the inner courtyard.
Duan Ling says, “Does he mean we should go get the prince?”
Helian Bo nods hurriedly. Batu waves that idea off. “The Yelü dog won’t care about Han lives. He only cares about himself.”
“Right!” Helian Bo comes to a complete realisation, and nods.
Duan Ling is anxious beyond anything. “Then what do we do?”
“Helian talks too slow.” Batu directs, “You, go to the guardsman headquarters and find Cai dog’s older brother. Me and Helian will think of some way to save him.”
Duan Ling says, “I don’t know where that is.”
Batu doesn’t know what to say; he gives up. “I’ll go. You two follow him.”
Wu Du has picked up Cai Yan and he’s about to leave.
Thereupon Duan Ling and Helian Bo run out of the corridor to follow Wu Du. Suddenly, Duan Ling’s collar tightens around him as he’s grabbed and dragged behind the corridor.
Duan Ling’s about to yell when a hand covers his mouth. He turns to find a masked man wearing a cloak.
Helian Bo though, is quite cool-headed. He throws himself towards them to get Duan Ling back, but the masked man casually flicks a spot half an inch below his throat and Helian Bo falls right onto the ground, at once unable to say a word or move an inch.
Duan Ling is pulled into the masked man’s arms, where he’s hit with a familiar scent; the masked man moves Duan Ling one step to the side, out of Helian Bo line of sight, and puts a finger in front of his mouth signalling him to be quiet, the corner of his mouth curving up, suggesting that Duan Ling should stay calm.
Duan Ling thinks, oh.
The masked man claps Helian Bo, releasing him from the acupuncture seal. Then, he quickly dashes out of the back courtyard, off to make trouble for Wu Du.
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The Liao dynasty, unfortunately, was too short-lived to leave us with English-Khitan dictionary for all their titles, so I’ll have to improvise. 北院大王 directly translates to “Imperial Prince of the Northern Administration”, but he’s really more of a grand commander or marshal. This was a later development in Liao history, the title used to be a Khitan word that meant “chieftain”. ↩︎
A very, very old phrase from the Zhuo zhuan.
