Though he misses Lang Junxia, Duan Ling has gradually understood something: perhaps if his father didn’t come, Lang Junxia wouldn’t have left.
Some will come and some will go — it’s just like how Lang Junxia described it himself. You can’t have all the good things that happen in the world; one will always have regrets, one way or another.
A lot of things feel like they were pre-arranged for him by the heavens itself.
Not without astonishment Duan Ling realises that if he ever has questions about any of the books he’s reading, as long as he brings them up to Li Jianhong, he can almost always answer them. On top of that, while his answers are wholly different than those the headmaster comes up with, they do not contradict his other interpretations, leaving Duan Ling little option but to be persuaded.
“Dad, didn’t you tell me that you didn’t get much schooling?”
“Life is limited, knowledge is limitless.2” Li Jianhong answers, “Who can truly say they’re well-read? All one can learn are bits and pieces. The more you know, the less you understand.”
Duan Ling only half understands, but he nods anyway. Today, he has flipped through his books for a while, and now he asks, “Dad, Confucius said that a gentleman reveres three things. What does that mean?”
“First to revere fate, second to revere the ruling class, third to revere the words of sages. A wretch who does not know the inevitability of fate would not know he should revere it..”
“Revere doesn’t mean fear.” Li Jianhong gives an impromptu explanation as he looks out into the courtyard, “It means to respect. Only by honouring one’s fate can one find shelter.”
“And what does fate mean?” Duan Ling asks.
“Everyone has something that they must accomplish in their lives, and that is decided from the very moment they are born. Some are born to farm, some are born to fight in wars, some are born to be the emperor. There are all kinds of fates, endlessly dissimilar.”
“But how am I supposed to find out what my fate is?” Duan Ling asks another question.
“It makes perfect sense for you not to know,” Li Jianhong puts down his bowl and heaves a sigh. “Dad doesn’t know either. Independent at thirty, confident at forty, knows one’s fate at fifty, said Confucius — we’re not supposed to find out until we’re fifty.”
“Isn’t that too long?” Duan Ling doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Yeah. We spend the first half of our lives bumping about in the dark not knowing what we’re supposed to do — it’s truly a waste of time.”
Li Jianhong gets up and walks away, but Duan Ling is still thinking about what his father told him; he finds him far more interesting than his teachers.
But soon Li Jianhong is walking past his door again. It’s drizzling outside, and Li Jianhong has changed into a cloak. He has a bundle in one hand. “Don’t you need to go to the Illustrious Hall today? Want to keep going to school?”
“Oh!” Duan Ling remembers now — today is the day he’s picking up his papers. He’ll be able to pick up the last essay he wrote at the Illustrious Hall and get it stamped by the headmaster so he can hand it in at Biyong College. He’s nearly forgotten, but Li Jianhong somehow still remembers everything, and takes him out on horseback. They plan to go get the papers, then head to the ink room to register for the exams before heading out of the city for a leisure trip.
Shangjing’s Biyong College is situated in the middle of Zhenghe Street, teeming with pedestrians and carriages that come and go in an endless stream. A line has already formed outside, all from noble and high-ranking functionary households. Standing apart from the crowd, Duan Ling and his father look on, both of whom dressed in plain commoners’ clothing.
“Do you envy their show of wealth in their beautiful carriages?” Li Jianhong asks without much thought.
Duan Ling shakes his head. A lot of these people are his fellow alumni from the Illustrious Hall. They’ve spent years studying with each other, but he never imagined that they came from such eminent families. Duan Ling says to Li Jianhong, “The headmaster taught us that one must be content with poverty and be the ruler of one’s own self.”
Li Jianhong nods. “Even though the headmaster talks a lot of nonsense, in this instance he is correct.”
Duan Ling laughs as he goes to get a number for registration on his own, so Li Jianhong pulls his hood down low until it covers half his face, and he stands in the shadows as he scans the faces of the passersby.
“Duan Ling!” Cai Yan calls his name from a distance. “What are you waiting for? Come over here!”
Though Duan Ling has completed his course of study at the Illustrious Hall, he has made few friends; because Lang Junxia made sure he only lived in the secluded side wing, he had little opportunity to meet with his fellow students. The only people he’s relatively close to are Cai Yan and Borjigin, whom he met on the first day, and Helian Bo who was occasionally given the standing punishment along with him.
Cai Yan came with this older brother as always, and he beckons at Duan Ling. So Li Jianhong walks over to greet them, saluting Cai Wen with one hand wrapped over his fist.
“Thank you for looking after him,” Li Jianhong says.
“I hardly did anything. "Cai Wen smiles, returning the gesture.
Cai Yan rests his arm over Duan Ling’s shoulder, letting him line up in front of himself, and the two of them exchange pleasantries. Duan Ling seldom sees Cai Wen, and he cannot help recalling that one winter where Lang Junxia was injured. In the days following that incident, Duan Ling returned to the Illustrious Hall, and Cai Yan came to see him without prompting; noticing his swollen right eye, Cai Yan thought Duan Ling was beaten by the adults at his house, and talked with him for a while to console him.
Ordinarily the two of them were almost never in the same class together. By the time Duan Ling started school, Cai Yan was already in the literature pavilion learning the four books and five classics ahead of time, as well as writing essays, and by the time Duan Ling advanced to the literature pavilion, they were classmates only for a few brief months before Cai Yan was taken back home, where his brother hired someone to teach him. Therefore the two of them did not see each other often at all.
But Duan Ling did have some idea of Cai Yan’s family situation. He knows that even though Cai Wen is Cai Yan’s older brother, the two did not share the same mother, and Cai Yan’s needs to be taken care of by Cai Wen everyday the same way Lang Junxia looks after Duan Ling. It made Cai Yan and Duan Ling intangibly closer still. Aside from this, Cai Yan and his older brother had also run into Duan Ling and Lang Junxia twice outside of school; once at the Mid-Autumn lantern festival, and the other time at the Double Third festival3 on a spring outing by the water.
However, Ding Zhi seems to like Lang Junxia, but not Cai Wen so much, thus when their respective elders happen to run into each other the atmosphere feels a bit awkward.
While the young men stand in line, the adults around them have a friendly chat. Duan Ling has forgotten to introduce Cai Wen to his father; Cai Wen is dressed in sky blue casuals today, looking quite dashing with a fighter’s bearing, like a sharp, newly forged sword. What they talk about is nothing more than the two children’s studies. Compared to the respectful distance Lang Junxia tends to keep, Li Jianhong comes off as far more cordial.
When Lang Junxia is mentioned, Li Jianhong merely brushes off the subject with a simple, “He’s my servant, and I wasn’t going to let him interfere too much in my son’s studies. Once I finished work and came to Shangjing, I sent him back to the south to take care of the business.”
Cai Wen nods. “I’ve been told you’re a merchant, Duanxiong?”
Li jianhong nods. “It’s not going so well. I was just thinking about finding some other way to make a living. Ambition I’ve plenty, but with all this war going on it’s hard to find a foothold anywhere, so what can I do but eat away at my savings while sitting idly on my hands. I’ll worry about that when I’m done watching over my son and he’s grown.”
Cai Wen laughs. “Judging by your bearing, Duanxiong, surely you wouldn’t have to eat away at your savings. You’re just being overly modest.”
Though Li Jianhong’s clothes and ornaments are not extravagant, his every movement and every word carries a particular aura, far from anything like a nouveau riche. In recent years Shangjing is filled with all kinds of folk, rich and poor alike; many nobles have also taken their entire families to shelter beneath the Liao celestial emperor’s feet. Though Cai Wen thinks Li Jianhong is no ordinary man, he has already met Duan Ling, and so he does not think too much of it.
Cai Yan sees a youth walking towards them and says, surprised, “Helian Bo!”
Duan Ling says smilingly, “Helian Bo!”
“You’ve come too!” Cai Yan greets him, “Come over here.”
Helian Bo has grown as well; he often got sent to stand out in the hallway alongside Duan Ling as punishment, and at fourteen he’s already rather tall, with dusky skin. He’s dressed in the Xiqiang fashion, with high brows, deep-set eyes, and chiselled features. Ordinarily he looks rather imposing simply standing there without saying a word, but in fact, he stutters.
Helian Bo is with his steward, so he nods at Duan Ling and Cai Yan, then tells his steward to leave before going to stand behind the two of them silently.
“Did you see Borjigin?” Cai Yan says offhandedly.
Helian Bo shakes his head. He looks at Li Jianhong, obviously the first time he’s ever seen him.
“My dad,” Daun Ling finally remembers to introduce him.
Helian Bo puts one palm on top of another, so Li Jianhong nods at him and returns the salute. Duan Ling looks behind him to find a carriage stopped on the road. Helian Bo points over that way and explains to Duan Ling. “My mom.”
His mother’s the one who brought Helian Bo here to register. Shangjing custom does not allow female family members to appear in public, so Helian Bo has come to line up by himself. He cups a hand over his fist to Cai Wen and the others in an apology.
The young men chat casually with each other for a while, and when it’s their turn, Duan Ling wants to let the others go first, but Helian Bo makes a gesture palm up at Duan Ling, please go ahead, and along with Cai Yan the two let the youngest among them go first.
“Duan Ling can come over whenever he’s free.” Caii Wen says, “I hired a teacher from the south. He can choose some of the easier material to teach him for now.”
“It’s wonderful of you to offer, thank you,” Li Jianhong says.
Cai Wen waves it off, don’t mention it, while Duan Ling has already gone inside with his answers, handed it in, and got it stamped. Li Jianhong says goodbye to Cai Wen, and he steps away with Duan Ling to pay the exam fee.
By the time Duan Ling is done, his friends are already gone. Noticing that Duan Ling is still looking back to search the crowd repeatedly, Li Jianhong asks, “You have friends that didn’t come?”
“Batu didn’t come.” Duan Ling replies, “We said we’d come today to register for the exams.”
Li Jianhong thinks to himself for a little while before asking Duan Ling, “Did you make any other friends?”
“Those are the one that are good to me. But I don’t know why their families are so strict with them.”
“Well, I forgot to ask, actually. Was Lang Junxia strict with you?”
Duan Ling shakes his head. It’s already been a while since he parted from Lang Junxia, but when he thinks about the past, he cherishes the comfortable years he spent with Lang Junxia very much still. Not that he didn’t want to play around, but Duan Ling was terrified of disappointing him. However, he can tell that Cai Yan, Helian Bo, as well as his other fellow classmates seem to have been having a hard time, as though there was a constant gloom pressing down on their heads.
“Helian Bo and the others … I don’t know how to say it, but they always looked like … looked like … um …”
Li Jianhong says, “Like there’s a ghost trailing them, forcing them to study so they can’t even laugh out loud.”
Duan Ling smiles. “That’s it.”
“They’re all mature beyond their years. They’re not like you.”
Duan Ling heaves a sigh.
Li Jianhong says, “They’re all heirs of politcal hostages, so naturally ever since they were little they understood more than those around them.”
“Well, I know that. But is it all that scary?” Duan Ling asks.
Li Jianhong holds Duan Ling’s hand as they walk down the street. “Helian Bo is the son of the Xiqiang royal family’s Helian Luan. Borjigin is a descendent of the Yuan Jiwowen line. As for the brothers Cai Wen and Cai Yan, they’re the offspring of the Cai family who moved north to work as officials in Shangjing. They’re children from mixed marriages with Khitan women.”
“In other words,” Li Jianhong explains, “Their dads are all foreigners, and most of them are royal kin. They’re here as hostages in exchange for peace between their home country and the Liao empire. If war breaks out between them, the Khitans will kill them.”
Duan Ling falls quiet for a moment before he asks, “Who is Southern Chen’s hostage?”
“The Southern Chen imperial family doesn’t have a hostage here — because the Han refuses to yield.”
“A lot of people who went to school with you in the Illustrious Hall are the descendents of the Liao empire’s south-side bureaucrats. If they ever defect, the Liao emperor would kill their sons.” Li Jianhong asks, “Do you know a child with the last name Han?”
“I do!” Duan Ling immediately thinks of that Mister Han.
“He’s actually Khitan. His dad is the imperial tutor of the southern administration.”
Duan Ling nods. He’s standing at the intersection with Li Jianhong; Dayu’er Lane is right next to them. Duan Ling stands there, and peers in for a while. “I want to check Batu’s house.”
And so Li Jianhong steps into Dayu’er Lane with Duan Ling, but they discover that many Khitan soldiers are inside, questioning everyone they see.
“Who’s there?” They’re immediately on guard.
“I’m …” Duan Ling has just started speaking when Li Jianhong’s hand on his shoulder lightly presses down.
“When I was taking my son to register earlier I ran into General Cai outside Biyong College.” Li Jianhong says smoothly, “He noticed that Borjigin was absent so he asked me to come check on him.”
“It has got nothing to do with Cai Wen.” The officer says, “Return and tell him to mind his own business.”
Li Jianhong nods at him and leaves with Duan Ling, a slight furrow between his brows.
“Why are they …”
Li Jianhong puts a finger over Duan Ling’s lips, letting him know not to ask. By the time they get home, Duan Ling has already forgotten all about it, and goes to work in his flowerbed. After a while, Duan Ling finds Li Jianhong getting some sun on the recliner in the courtyard, his eyes narrowed as though lost in thought.
“Dad.” Duan Ling is going to ask him to go sleep inside, but Li Jianhong’s eyes open and he beckons Duan Ling closer.
So Duan Ling goes and sprawls all over Li Jianhong. Li Jianhong holds Duan Ling close to him with one hand, and takes his hand with another.
“What’s this? Your hands are covered in mud, just wiping it on your dad’s face all day long.”
Duan Ling wipes both hands on Li Jianhong’s clothes and says, “I’m hungry.”
“What do you want to eat? Let’s go get something at a restaurant …”
Duan Ling is about to wash his hands, but Li Jianhong doesn’t loosen his hold; he carefully examines Duan Ling’s expression while looking at his eyes. “Tell me this before you go. Are you good friends with Borjigin Batu?”
There’s gravitas in Li Jianhong’s expression, and Duan Ling gets a bit worried, thinking Li Jianhong must disapprove of him making friends with Batu, so he starts thinking about how he should answer. And yet after just this short pause of hesitation, Li Jianhong is saying to him, “If he is then say he is, if he isn’t then say he isn’t. What’d you think I’d do to you?”
Duan Ling answers, “He is.”
“Life is long, and you must have a few friends. Go wash your hands.”
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. ↩︎
It’s by Zhuangzi. The full quote is Life is limited, knowledge is limitless; the pursuit of the limitless with the limited can only end in failure. ↩︎
The double third festival happens on 3-3, on the third day of the third lunar month. ↩︎
Though he misses Lang Junxia, Duan Ling has gradually understood something: perhaps if his father didn’t come, Lang Junxia wouldn’t have left.
Some will come and some will go — it’s just like how Lang Junxia described it himself. You can’t have all the good things that happen in the world; one will always have regrets, one way or another.
A lot of things feel like they were pre-arranged for him by the heavens itself.
Not without astonishment Duan Ling realises that if he ever has questions about any of the books he’s reading, as long as he brings them up to Li Jianhong, he can almost always answer them. On top of that, while his answers are wholly different than those the headmaster comes up with, they do not contradict his other interpretations, leaving Duan Ling little option but to be persuaded.
“Dad, didn’t you tell me that you didn’t get much schooling?”
“Life is limited, knowledge is limitless.2” Li Jianhong answers, “Who can truly say they’re well-read? All one can learn are bits and pieces. The more you know, the less you understand.”
Duan Ling only half understands, but he nods anyway. Today, he has flipped through his books for a while, and now he asks, “Dad, Confucius said that a gentleman reveres three things. What does that mean?”
“First to revere fate, second to revere the ruling class, third to revere the words of sages. A wretch who does not know the inevitability of fate would not know he should revere it..”
“Revere doesn’t mean fear.” Li Jianhong gives an impromptu explanation as he looks out into the courtyard, “It means to respect. Only by honouring one’s fate can one find shelter.”
“And what does fate mean?” Duan Ling asks.
“Everyone has something that they must accomplish in their lives, and that is decided from the very moment they are born. Some are born to farm, some are born to fight in wars, some are born to be the emperor. There are all kinds of fates, endlessly dissimilar.”
“But how am I supposed to find out what my fate is?” Duan Ling asks another question.
“It makes perfect sense for you not to know,” Li Jianhong puts down his bowl and heaves a sigh. “Dad doesn’t know either. Independent at thirty, confident at forty, knows one’s fate at fifty, said Confucius — we’re not supposed to find out until we’re fifty.”
“Isn’t that too long?” Duan Ling doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Yeah. We spend the first half of our lives bumping about in the dark not knowing what we’re supposed to do — it’s truly a waste of time.”
Li Jianhong gets up and walks away, but Duan Ling is still thinking about what his father told him; he finds him far more interesting than his teachers.
But soon Li Jianhong is walking past his door again. It’s drizzling outside, and Li Jianhong has changed into a cloak. He has a bundle in one hand. “Don’t you need to go to the Illustrious Hall today? Want to keep going to school?”
“Oh!” Duan Ling remembers now — today is the day he’s picking up his papers. He’ll be able to pick up the last essay he wrote at the Illustrious Hall and get it stamped by the headmaster so he can hand it in at Biyong College. He’s nearly forgotten, but Li Jianhong somehow still remembers everything, and takes him out on horseback. They plan to go get the papers, then head to the ink room to register for the exams before heading out of the city for a leisure trip.
Shangjing’s Biyong College is situated in the middle of Zhenghe Street, teeming with pedestrians and carriages that come and go in an endless stream. A line has already formed outside, all from noble and high-ranking functionary households. Standing apart from the crowd, Duan Ling and his father look on, both of whom dressed in plain commoners’ clothing.
“Do you envy their show of wealth in their beautiful carriages?” Li Jianhong asks without much thought.
Duan Ling shakes his head. A lot of these people are his fellow alumni from the Illustrious Hall. They’ve spent years studying with each other, but he never imagined that they came from such eminent families. Duan Ling says to Li Jianhong, “The headmaster taught us that one must be content with poverty and be the ruler of one’s own self.”
Li Jianhong nods. “Even though the headmaster talks a lot of nonsense, in this instance he is correct.”
Duan Ling laughs as he goes to get a number for registration on his own, so Li Jianhong pulls his hood down low until it covers half his face, and he stands in the shadows as he scans the faces of the passersby.
“Duan Ling!” Cai Yan calls his name from a distance. “What are you waiting for? Come over here!”
Though Duan Ling has completed his course of study at the Illustrious Hall, he has made few friends; because Lang Junxia made sure he only lived in the secluded side wing, he had little opportunity to meet with his fellow students. The only people he’s relatively close to are Cai Yan and Borjigin, whom he met on the first day, and Helian Bo who was occasionally given the standing punishment along with him.
Cai Yan came with this older brother as always, and he beckons at Duan Ling. So Li Jianhong walks over to greet them, saluting Cai Wen with one hand wrapped over his fist.
“Thank you for looking after him,” Li Jianhong says.
“I hardly did anything. "Cai Wen smiles, returning the gesture.
Cai Yan rests his arm over Duan Ling’s shoulder, letting him line up in front of himself, and the two of them exchange pleasantries. Duan Ling seldom sees Cai Wen, and he cannot help recalling that one winter where Lang Junxia was injured. In the days following that incident, Duan Ling returned to the Illustrious Hall, and Cai Yan came to see him without prompting; noticing his swollen right eye, Cai Yan thought Duan Ling was beaten by the adults at his house, and talked with him for a while to console him.
Ordinarily the two of them were almost never in the same class together. By the time Duan Ling started school, Cai Yan was already in the literature pavilion learning the four books and five classics ahead of time, as well as writing essays, and by the time Duan Ling advanced to the literature pavilion, they were classmates only for a few brief months before Cai Yan was taken back home, where his brother hired someone to teach him. Therefore the two of them did not see each other often at all.
But Duan Ling did have some idea of Cai Yan’s family situation. He knows that even though Cai Wen is Cai Yan’s older brother, the two did not share the same mother, and Cai Yan’s needs to be taken care of by Cai Wen everyday the same way Lang Junxia looks after Duan Ling. It made Cai Yan and Duan Ling intangibly closer still. Aside from this, Cai Yan and his older brother had also run into Duan Ling and Lang Junxia twice outside of school; once at the Mid-Autumn lantern festival, and the other time at the Double Third festival3 on a spring outing by the water.
However, Ding Zhi seems to like Lang Junxia, but not Cai Wen so much, thus when their respective elders happen to run into each other the atmosphere feels a bit awkward.
While the young men stand in line, the adults around them have a friendly chat. Duan Ling has forgotten to introduce Cai Wen to his father; Cai Wen is dressed in sky blue casuals today, looking quite dashing with a fighter’s bearing, like a sharp, newly forged sword. What they talk about is nothing more than the two children’s studies. Compared to the respectful distance Lang Junxia tends to keep, Li Jianhong comes off as far more cordial.
When Lang Junxia is mentioned, Li Jianhong merely brushes off the subject with a simple, “He’s my servant, and I wasn’t going to let him interfere too much in my son’s studies. Once I finished work and came to Shangjing, I sent him back to the south to take care of the business.”
Cai Wen nods. “I’ve been told you’re a merchant, Duanxiong?”
Li jianhong nods. “It’s not going so well. I was just thinking about finding some other way to make a living. Ambition I’ve plenty, but with all this war going on it’s hard to find a foothold anywhere, so what can I do but eat away at my savings while sitting idly on my hands. I’ll worry about that when I’m done watching over my son and he’s grown.”
Cai Wen laughs. “Judging by your bearing, Duanxiong, surely you wouldn’t have to eat away at your savings. You’re just being overly modest.”
Though Li Jianhong’s clothes and ornaments are not extravagant, his every movement and every word carries a particular aura, far from anything like a nouveau riche. In recent years Shangjing is filled with all kinds of folk, rich and poor alike; many nobles have also taken their entire families to shelter beneath the Liao celestial emperor’s feet. Though Cai Wen thinks Li Jianhong is no ordinary man, he has already met Duan Ling, and so he does not think too much of it.
Cai Yan sees a youth walking towards them and says, surprised, “Helian Bo!”
Duan Ling says smilingly, “Helian Bo!”
“You’ve come too!” Cai Yan greets him, “Come over here.”
Helian Bo has grown as well; he often got sent to stand out in the hallway alongside Duan Ling as punishment, and at fourteen he’s already rather tall, with dusky skin. He’s dressed in the Xiqiang fashion, with high brows, deep-set eyes, and chiselled features. Ordinarily he looks rather imposing simply standing there without saying a word, but in fact, he stutters.
Helian Bo is with his steward, so he nods at Duan Ling and Cai Yan, then tells his steward to leave before going to stand behind the two of them silently.
“Did you see Borjigin?” Cai Yan says offhandedly.
Helian Bo shakes his head. He looks at Li Jianhong, obviously the first time he’s ever seen him.
“My dad,” Daun Ling finally remembers to introduce him.
Helian Bo puts one palm on top of another, so Li Jianhong nods at him and returns the salute. Duan Ling looks behind him to find a carriage stopped on the road. Helian Bo points over that way and explains to Duan Ling. “My mom.”
His mother’s the one who brought Helian Bo here to register. Shangjing custom does not allow female family members to appear in public, so Helian Bo has come to line up by himself. He cups a hand over his fist to Cai Wen and the others in an apology.
The young men chat casually with each other for a while, and when it’s their turn, Duan Ling wants to let the others go first, but Helian Bo makes a gesture palm up at Duan Ling, please go ahead, and along with Cai Yan the two let the youngest among them go first.
“Duan Ling can come over whenever he’s free.” Caii Wen says, “I hired a teacher from the south. He can choose some of the easier material to teach him for now.”
“It’s wonderful of you to offer, thank you,” Li Jianhong says.
Cai Wen waves it off, don’t mention it, while Duan Ling has already gone inside with his answers, handed it in, and got it stamped. Li Jianhong says goodbye to Cai Wen, and he steps away with Duan Ling to pay the exam fee.
By the time Duan Ling is done, his friends are already gone. Noticing that Duan Ling is still looking back to search the crowd repeatedly, Li Jianhong asks, “You have friends that didn’t come?”
“Batu didn’t come.” Duan Ling replies, “We said we’d come today to register for the exams.”
Li Jianhong thinks to himself for a little while before asking Duan Ling, “Did you make any other friends?”
“Those are the one that are good to me. But I don’t know why their families are so strict with them.”
“Well, I forgot to ask, actually. Was Lang Junxia strict with you?”
Duan Ling shakes his head. It’s already been a while since he parted from Lang Junxia, but when he thinks about the past, he cherishes the comfortable years he spent with Lang Junxia very much still. Not that he didn’t want to play around, but Duan Ling was terrified of disappointing him. However, he can tell that Cai Yan, Helian Bo, as well as his other fellow classmates seem to have been having a hard time, as though there was a constant gloom pressing down on their heads.
“Helian Bo and the others … I don’t know how to say it, but they always looked like … looked like … um …”
Li Jianhong says, “Like there’s a ghost trailing them, forcing them to study so they can’t even laugh out loud.”
Duan Ling smiles. “That’s it.”
“They’re all mature beyond their years. They’re not like you.”
Duan Ling heaves a sigh.
Li Jianhong says, “They’re all heirs of politcal hostages, so naturally ever since they were little they understood more than those around them.”
“Well, I know that. But is it all that scary?” Duan Ling asks.
Li Jianhong holds Duan Ling’s hand as they walk down the street. “Helian Bo is the son of the Xiqiang royal family’s Helian Luan. Borjigin is a descendent of the Yuan Jiwowen line. As for the brothers Cai Wen and Cai Yan, they’re the offspring of the Cai family who moved north to work as officials in Shangjing. They’re children from mixed marriages with Khitan women.”
“In other words,” Li Jianhong explains, “Their dads are all foreigners, and most of them are royal kin. They’re here as hostages in exchange for peace between their home country and the Liao empire. If war breaks out between them, the Khitans will kill them.”
Duan Ling falls quiet for a moment before he asks, “Who is Southern Chen’s hostage?”
“The Southern Chen imperial family doesn’t have a hostage here — because the Han refuses to yield.”
“A lot of people who went to school with you in the Illustrious Hall are the descendents of the Liao empire’s south-side bureaucrats. If they ever defect, the Liao emperor would kill their sons.” Li Jianhong asks, “Do you know a child with the last name Han?”
“I do!” Duan Ling immediately thinks of that Mister Han.
“He’s actually Khitan. His dad is the imperial tutor of the southern administration.”
Duan Ling nods. He’s standing at the intersection with Li Jianhong; Dayu’er Lane is right next to them. Duan Ling stands there, and peers in for a while. “I want to check Batu’s house.”
And so Li Jianhong steps into Dayu’er Lane with Duan Ling, but they discover that many Khitan soldiers are inside, questioning everyone they see.
“Who’s there?” They’re immediately on guard.
“I’m …” Duan Ling has just started speaking when Li Jianhong’s hand on his shoulder lightly presses down.
“When I was taking my son to register earlier I ran into General Cai outside Biyong College.” Li Jianhong says smoothly, “He noticed that Borjigin was absent so he asked me to come check on him.”
“It has got nothing to do with Cai Wen.” The officer says, “Return and tell him to mind his own business.”
Li Jianhong nods at him and leaves with Duan Ling, a slight furrow between his brows.
“Why are they …”
Li Jianhong puts a finger over Duan Ling’s lips, letting him know not to ask. By the time they get home, Duan Ling has already forgotten all about it, and goes to work in his flowerbed. After a while, Duan Ling finds Li Jianhong getting some sun on the recliner in the courtyard, his eyes narrowed as though lost in thought.
“Dad.” Duan Ling is going to ask him to go sleep inside, but Li Jianhong’s eyes open and he beckons Duan Ling closer.
So Duan Ling goes and sprawls all over Li Jianhong. Li Jianhong holds Duan Ling close to him with one hand, and takes his hand with another.
“What’s this? Your hands are covered in mud, just wiping it on your dad’s face all day long.”
Duan Ling wipes both hands on Li Jianhong’s clothes and says, “I’m hungry.”
“What do you want to eat? Let’s go get something at a restaurant …”
Duan Ling is about to wash his hands, but Li Jianhong doesn’t loosen his hold; he carefully examines Duan Ling’s expression while looking at his eyes. “Tell me this before you go. Are you good friends with Borjigin Batu?”
There’s gravitas in Li Jianhong’s expression, and Duan Ling gets a bit worried, thinking Li Jianhong must disapprove of him making friends with Batu, so he starts thinking about how he should answer. And yet after just this short pause of hesitation, Li Jianhong is saying to him, “If he is then say he is, if he isn’t then say he isn’t. What’d you think I’d do to you?”
Duan Ling answers, “He is.”
“Life is long, and you must have a few friends. Go wash your hands.”
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. ↩︎
It’s by Zhuangzi. The full quote is Life is limited, knowledge is limitless; the pursuit of the limitless with the limited can only end in failure. ↩︎
The double third festival happens on 3-3, on the third day of the third lunar month. ↩︎
