The Xiliang liaison coming to pick up the bride has arrived earlier than Bian Lingbai expected. It’s hot today, so muggy that everyone is covered in sweat, and seven of the arriving party have come into the room, five standing, two sitting; what they ask about is nothing more than where the young Miss Yao is staying, and when the groom can see her.
Bian Lingbai says, “According to our Han customs, the wedding couple cannot see each other until the bride’s been taken back to the groom’s home.”
The tall man who heads the group would be the son of Xiliang’s Chevalier Attendant-in-ordinary. He says to Bian Lingbai, “I won’t go see her, but can’t you let one of my subordinates meet her just once? This one here is my personal attendant. We’ve been friends since we were little kids.”
As he speaks he introduces the other sitting youth to Bian Lingbai. This young man is in military attire, his clothes quite plain and unadorned, dressed like any ordinary bodyguard, but there is an understated, restrained sort of bearing to his person regardless.
Bian Lingbai looks the young man up and down. He knows that the people of Western Xia2 don’t share the same customs as the Han, so it should be alright to let them take a peek at Yao Jing from a distance. Therefore after a moment’s hesitation, in the end he nods to acquiesce to their request.
Shang Leguan speaks briefly to the young man, and all the young man does is nod and hums something affirmative to indicate he’s heard. The other guards in the room also glance at the young man from time to time as though he’s actually the one in charge.
Bian Lingbai finds this a bit odd as well, but he doesn’t voice his suspicions aloud. “Well, you’ve all travelled a long way to get here and it’s already too late for that today. Why not retire to your rooms in the estate in the meantime and I’ll get everything ready for you tomorrow, Mister Shang?”
Shang Leguan glances at the young man again, and the young man gives him a slight nod. This time, Bian Lingbai is able to tell that he seems to hold a higher status than even Shang Leguan.
“I … I want to ask you, about a … a thing.” The young man begins to speak.
Bian Lingbai can never imagine this man for stammerer, and therefore trying his best to look like he doesn’t find this at all strange, he says, “Please go ahead, sir.”
“His name is He Mo.” Shang Leguan says to Bian Lingbai. “His words carry the same weight as my own. It’s like this: merchant caravans from all over come through Tongguan, so this must be quite the information gathering spot, and you must have your own intelligence … staff, General Bian. In the central plain, or even all the way to Xichuan, the net you cast must be wider than our own.”
Bian Lingbai nods, noticing that the young man seems a bit agitated; his lips are quivering. The others quiet down then, waiting for him to speak first, not a one of them daring to cut in, which makes him think that the young man must be someone quite important in Xiliang.
“I want you to help me … gather information, and within … your borders, find a … person.” The young man named He Mo raises a finger to emphasise “find a person”, and gestures with his palm to encompass everyone in the room, then he says to Bian Lingbai, “Tell all of them to withdraw.”
Shang Leguan remains in the room. And so without knowing why, Bian Lingbai sends all the servants and guards outside, and Shang Leguan closes the main hall’s door. Bian Lingbai has an indistinct feeling that this matter is far more than it seems.
“There’s no harm in speaking your mind,” Bian Lingbai says immediately.
“You need to keep … keep secret.” The young man exhorts once more.
“Naturally.”
“He’s Han … like you … called ‘Duan Ling’, have you … heard of him?” The young man looks solemnly into Bian Lingbai’s eyes.
“Duan Ling?” Bian Lingbai racks his brain for a bit and replies, “No, I haven’t. Why are you looking for this person, Mister He?”
“Once … you find him … there will be three hundred yi of gold as thanks. I … give one hundred yi of gold.”
Bian Lingbai goes quiet.
“And another person, also … give one hundred yi of gold.”
Bian Lingbai is quite silent.
He Mo gives Shang Leguan a glance. Shang Leguan nods at him and He Mo continues, “And another person, will give … one hundred … one hundred yi of gold. Three hundred yi of gold in total.”
What kind of concept is a hundred yi of gold? One yi is twenty-four taels, a hundred yi would be two-thousand four hundred taels of gold, three hundred yi is seven thousand and two hundred — that’s four hundred and fifty catty of shiny yellow solid gold.
Since the fall of Shangzi, the tribute sent by Chen to Liao each year is worth about eight-thousand taels of gold. That is to say, in one throw, He Mo is going to toss out an entire year of Great Chen’s tribute. All at once Bian Lingbai feels as though he’s been hit rather badly in the head and he’s bloody and disoriented.
“Three hundred yi of gold to buy this man’s head.” Bian Lingbai’s got it.
“Buy whose head?!” He Mo snarls at his words and slaps the table. The cups and saucers shudder and tea splashes all over. Shang Leguan immediately asks He Mo to calm down.
Bian Lingbai hastens to say, “Certainly! You want him alive! I misunderstood!”
The young man’s anger is quelled only then. That burst of rage earlier had somehow shown the might of a young lion. Bian Lingbai suddenly has a vague idea of who this young man is now.
“Do you have a portrait of him?”
“I … draw you … one.”
For three hundred yi of gold, even if Bian Lingbai has to dig three feet below the ground and turnover every inch of soil in Great Chen, he must find this person! And so with the two sides reaching an understanding, He Mo agrees to go get a portrait ready, and for now they rest.
Duan Ling and Wu Du have gone out to purchase medicinal ingredients, and they come back just in time to see a bunch of Tangut carrying crates of stuff inside. They stop to watch for a while.
“It’s sure hard to get a wife these days.” Wu Du seems inspired. “You need to send out crates and crates of gifts. A pauper like myself can never afford to get married, naturally.”
“The Tangut are rich. They can live an entire life on selling horses alone. When it’s time for you to get married, I can be the one to save up the bride price for you.” As he says this, Duan Ling keeps looking at Wu Du sidelong, feeling more than a bit jealous. He’s saying these words, sure, but he’s rather reluctant to part with him; it feels as though another person is about to stake ownership over something that’s his.
Wu Du scoffs at that, and they banter on this back and forth some more before he’s off to prepare the medicinal ingredients with Duan Ling for Fei Hongde. Duan Ling sits outside the door with a mortar and pestle listening to the conversation between Wu Du and Fei Hongde going on inside.
“We hardly know each other. I really can’t thank you both enough for looking after me so.”
“People drift and wander like duckweed, wither and fall as easily as autumn leaves. My master always used to say that we shouldn’t need to know each other well or to have a reason when it comes to taking care of each other.”
The two are silent for a while before Wu Du suddenly speaks again. “Are you quite aware of the assassin’s identity, Master Fei?”
Fei Hongde doesn’t answer. When Duan Ling hears this he can’t help but glance over at Fei Hongde, and Fei Hongde just happened to be looking at him as well.
After they returned from the attack, Bian Lingbai did send some men to try to find out the assassin’s origins as well as his whereabouts, but Fei Hongde hasn’t brought up the incident at all. Duan Ling has been wondering about it for a while, but Wu Du’s words have finally set his mind working. For someone like Fei Hongde to not hazard even a guess at all — could it be a personal vendetta?
“Is the assassin Tangut?” Duan Ling asks.
Duan Ling, along with Wu Du, has taken a look at the arrow that struck Fei Hongde once they returned to the estate — it’s the kind of small black pig-iron arrow that mounted bandits favour through Xiyu to Xiliang, with a groove for blood-letting, so perhaps it’s an assassin sent from Xiliang. Maybe Xiliang has sent someone to assassinate Bian Lingbai’s close advisor, or maybe they’re trying to give him a warning; either is possible.
But if it’s really an assassin with meticulous plans who hoped to succeed on the first attempt, of course he wouldn’t be so stupid as to use his own arrows. If that’s the case then anyone is possible. It could even be Helan Jie …
“My guess is that it’s an assassin sent from Xiliang,” Fei Hongde says.
“Could it be the party that’s come to pick up the bride?” Duan Ling asks.
Fei Hongde shakes his head. “Do you remember how you were ambushed by mounted bandits on the way here?”
All at once, Duan Ling seems able to dimly connect these events together.
“General Bian is no more than a pawn in this affair.” Fei Hongde relates slowly. “As for the purpose of Lady Yao marrying far from home … that is a transaction long decided between Xiliang and the Yao family of Huaiyin.”
“What transaction?” Duan Ling brings in the ground up ingredients, closes the door, and hands it to Wu Du. Wu Du begins to simmer a decoction.
“Trade. Military affairs. For one Yao Fu will need warhorses, for two he needs to keep Xichuan in check, and for three — most importantly — Yao Fu wants to ally with Xiliang to oppose the Liao Southern Administration’s Han Weiyong clan. After the battle of Shangjing last year, Xiyu’s trade route which passes through Xiliang’s Shazhou3 and Jincheng has since been sealed. It needs to be reopened before their silk trade with the Jiangnan region can resume.”
“Does Chancellor Mu not know that?” Duan Ling asks.
“He knows.” Fei Hongde looks at Duan Ling impressively, and nods. “But Yao Fu doesn’t want to go through the imperial court, because if he does then there’ll be many added restrictions once the matter is examined and discussed at court.”
“True. Once we form an official alliance with Xiliang, the central government will find some way to take over this trade route.”
“That’s why,” Fei Hongde says ploddingly, “Yao Jing marrying away from home is only the first link in the chain of Yao family’s breach into Xiliang. If all goes as planned she’ll probably marry into the Shang family who has close ties to the queen. Xiliang is currently split into two factions, with the queen of Tuyuhun origin and her relatives in one faction. After the Xiliang King’s death,4 Consort Helian and her son both became dependent on the queen. The Shangs of the Cavalier Attendant-in-ordinary as well as proponents of the Bureau of Military Affairs, which holds sway over the army, are both this faction’s backbone; as for the other faction, that would be the late Xiliang King’s older brother Helian Da and the functionaries he leads. This faction has closer ties to the Southern Administration of Liao.”
Duan LIng nods. “Then, do these factions know about this marriage alliance?”
“What do you think? I suspect that gang of bandits attacked her on purpose, and their purpose was to thwart a marriage alliance between the Yaos and the Shangs. Or more likely … Yao Jing isn’t meant to marry into the Shang family at all, but into the royal family.”
The situation is finally, gradually clearing up for Duan Ling. If that’s the case, then it is possible that Xiliang’s Liao faction wishes to break off this engagement. However this doesn’t seem like it would have a lot to do with the attack on Fei Hongde.
“What do you think?” Duan Ling asks Wu Du.
“I don’t get it,” without pausing to think, Wu Du replies.
Fei Hongde laughs. Wu Du wipes off his hands and tosses the towel aside. “I don’t understand all this stuff that goes on in your literati heads. Take this and apply it on Master Fei’s wound.”
“Master Wu is his own free man, like a lone seagull between heaven and earth,” Fei Hongde says smilingly.
“A single copper confounds even a hero, as they say. I’m not what I used to be,” Wu Du says casually.
Duan Ling thinks, How old are you? You make it sound like you’ve lived through dynasties or something.
Duan Ling applies a poultice for Fei Hongde, and Fei Hongde continues, “I used to know Yao Jing’s mother quite well, and I was going to have a chat with her, but this thing had to happen right when I came back to Tongguan. If you’re not busy, could you perhaps visit her on my behalf?”
Duan Ling is slightly startled at first, then after a moment’s consideration he comes to understand that Fei Hongde is implying more than just a simple visit. Yao Jing is about to marry into the Shang family; that is to say she must have brought some sort of request from Yao Fu. Getting to know her better would be advantageous. He may even be able to get some information out of her.
Duan Ling glances over to Wu Du. Wu Du says, “If you want to go, we’ll go.”
“What do I have to say? Master Fei, do you have something you want to tell her?”
“Tell her …” Fei Hongde contemplates for a bit, then he finally says, “Oh never mind, each of our destiny is mandated by the heavens, so there’s no point in forcing things. But if I’m right, then it’s quite possible that the one Yao Jing will have to marry isn’t Shang Leguan but someone else. For now you can ask her if she knows, and we’ll figure out what to do once you have an answer.”
Duan Ling has realised that the whole time Fei Hongde has remained in Tongguan, he had never taken Bian Lingbai seriously. To him, Bian Lingbai is nothing more than a boorish, reckless man. His main objective may actually have something to do with the marriage alliance between the Yaos and Xiliang.
Duan Ling and Wu Du leave, and now they’re outside Yao Jing’s courtyard house, looking around.
“Is she inside?” Duan Ling says.
“Just call out for her.” Wu Du says, “Why are you dragging your feet?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
In Duan Ling’s concept of the sexes, girls are like a separate tribe of people altogether; his father has managed to teach him nearly everything, but he’s never taught him how to communicate with girls. Perhaps in Li Jianhong’s impression of their meeting, he has no idea how he was able to capture Duan Xiaowan’s heart either.
Wu Du leaps onto the wall and glances inside. “She’s inside, drawing. You go ahead, I’ll stay out here. It’s not proper for me to see her.”
Duan Ling is still feeling a bit shy, but Yao Jing’s middle-aged servant is out in the courtyard sweeping, and when he hears the noise he comes out to take a look. He immediately says to Duan Ling, “Mister Bian! Please do come in!”
Duan Ling hasn’t realised that “Mister Bian” is referring to him at first, but then someone is going eh from behind the walls, so Duan Ling can but brace himself and head inside. Yao Jing gets up to greet him right away, moving to a side seat so she can leave the seat of honour to Duan Ling. Then she orders the middle-aged man put on tea.
“Since you’re General Bian’s family,” Yao Jing says smilingly, “then I’ll simply call you as I would a paternal cousin.”
“Lady Yao, there’s no need to be so polite. Just act as if this is your own home.”
Speaking of blood ties, Duan Ling’s aunt did marry Yao Jing’s uncle, so they really are distantly related cousins on the maternal side. However, before a woman is wed, she can meet with her male cousins on the paternal side, but not ones from the maternal side. Yao Jing is currently living under Bian Lingbai’s roof, so in calling Duan Ling as she would a paternal cousin, she’s both indicating that the relationship between Bian Lingbai and Yao Fu is hardly a shallow one, and it’d avoid attracting rumours of her meeting with a man. That is rather smart of her.
Yao Jing must have had a difficult childhood, Duan Ling thinks, and cannot help but feel sympathetic.
“The groom’s party who’s come to pick you up has arrived from Xiliang today,” Duan Ling drinks a sip of tea as he says to Yao Jing.
“I heard.” Yao Jing gives him a slight smile. “Bianxiong, did you see Mister Shang already?”
“Your future husband, is he?” Duan Ling turns the question on her. “Well, I haven’t, actually. When I have time I should go greet him.”
“Did Mister Shang come personally?”
Duan Ling hums in the affirmative, then he repeats the question, “Is it true that you’re marrying into the Shang family?”
Yao Jing looks a bit confused, then she nods at him. Duan Ling can tell that she must not know anything. Whether she marries into the Shang family or the Xiliang royal family though, what awaits her will never be a simple, harmonious life between husband and wife.
Suddenly Duan LIng has no idea what he can say to comfort her. But it’s Yao Jing who gives him a considerate smile instead. “I hear that everyone in Xiliang likes to drink wine and race their horses along the plains. If Princess Ruiping is here, she’ll love it.”
“Well, noble families aren’t quite like that. I’m sure they won’t be uncultured.”
As they’re speaking, the middle-aged servant comes in and says, “My lady, there’s a bunch of … bunch of Tangut outside, coming this way. I don’t know if you’re …”
His words are still hanging in the air when the hubbub of a crowd grows louder. Yao Jing hasn’t the darnedest idea what’s going on, but Duan Ling can understand Tangut, so he knows that those young men of the groom’s party must be here to make a scene. West of the Great Wall, Tangut, Mongolian, Rouran, and the Xiongnu tribes aren’t like the Han, and the custom of “serenade” in a proposal is widespread. That is, after the engagement and before the bride is escorted to her new husband’s family, the groom-to-be will gather a bunch of good friends and make a visit to his bride-to-be, climb onto the courtyard wall, and serenade the girl from the top of the wall while the girl respond calmly with her own singing voice from her room, generously allowing spectators to look on.
Yet the Han doesn’t have the same customs, and there’s no way the Shang family won’t know that. They can have no other reason to be here making a commotion than to play around, out of the playful nature of young men.
“You can ignore them,” Duan Ling says. “All you have to do is sit here. In a little while, I’ll go send them away for you.”
“So this is a serenade proposal then?” Yao Jing says. Clearly she’s asked about it before she came.
“That’s right. There will be three rounds of singing all together. I’ll sing a couple of lines for you in a bit, and they’ll go away.”
The first round is sung outside the courtyard walls. Wu Du glances over, and knowing that it’s a foreign custom, he ignores it. Holding a grass straw in his mouth, he sits on the eaves, overlooking the scene below.
The general translation of the first round of lyrics is roughly: beautiful girl, why do you ignore me so? Soon we’ll be married, and we’ll see each other both day and night …
Right afterwards, the second round begins, and with a leap all the young men jump onto the top of the wall.
Duan Ling is drinking his tea, and at the first sound of an instrument he cannot help but spit it back out, as to his surprise they’ve even brought their lutes. Duan Ling just finds it all fascinating; he looks outside to find a row of extravagantly dressed young men sitting astride the wall, strumming their lutes, singing as they play.
The second round roughly translates to: if you’ll keep being so shy, when will I ever get to see your beautiful face … According to Xiliang etiquette, the woman being proposed to should walk into the courtyard with a veil over her face now, and stand there quietly. Then the young men are going to jeer and she’s to sing her solo.
“It sounds lovely.” From their singing Yao Jing can feel the passionate vitality of the young men and the idea of a wonderful love.
“It’s written by a Persian poet,” Duan Ling says, “It means: from now on I will only plant the flowers you love in my garden, and I will sing for you, let you soar freely over the skies above.”
Very lightly, and very quietly, Yao Jing lets out a sigh. She’s about to get up, but Duan Ling tells her, “Don’t go outside.”
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. ↩︎
Western Xia was the dynasty name of the Tangut people. The text has been referring to the territory as Xiliang, but historically it was “Xixia”, or Western Xia. Presumably the Xiliang here is the one after Khitan and Mongolian invasions, and its territories are greatly diminished to a narrow band between the fictional Chen and Yuan, north of Tongguan, sandwiched between this universe’s Chen, Liao, and Yuan. ↩︎
Literally means “sand province” and it used to be on the western edge of Xixia (Xiliang). It’s off the edge of our map. Jincheng is near present Lanzhou. ↩︎
While Yuan and Liao were both historically empires, Western Xia was a kingdom. ↩︎
The Xiliang liaison coming to pick up the bride has arrived earlier than Bian Lingbai expected. It’s hot today, so muggy that everyone is covered in sweat, and seven of the arriving party have come into the room, five standing, two sitting; what they ask about is nothing more than where the young Miss Yao is staying, and when the groom can see her.
Bian Lingbai says, “According to our Han customs, the wedding couple cannot see each other until the bride’s been taken back to the groom’s home.”
The tall man who heads the group would be the son of Xiliang’s Chevalier Attendant-in-ordinary. He says to Bian Lingbai, “I won’t go see her, but can’t you let one of my subordinates meet her just once? This one here is my personal attendant. We’ve been friends since we were little kids.”
As he speaks he introduces the other sitting youth to Bian Lingbai. This young man is in military attire, his clothes quite plain and unadorned, dressed like any ordinary bodyguard, but there is an understated, restrained sort of bearing to his person regardless.
Bian Lingbai looks the young man up and down. He knows that the people of Western Xia2 don’t share the same customs as the Han, so it should be alright to let them take a peek at Yao Jing from a distance. Therefore after a moment’s hesitation, in the end he nods to acquiesce to their request.
Shang Leguan speaks briefly to the young man, and all the young man does is nod and hums something affirmative to indicate he’s heard. The other guards in the room also glance at the young man from time to time as though he’s actually the one in charge.
Bian Lingbai finds this a bit odd as well, but he doesn’t voice his suspicions aloud. “Well, you’ve all travelled a long way to get here and it’s already too late for that today. Why not retire to your rooms in the estate in the meantime and I’ll get everything ready for you tomorrow, Mister Shang?”
Shang Leguan glances at the young man again, and the young man gives him a slight nod. This time, Bian Lingbai is able to tell that he seems to hold a higher status than even Shang Leguan.
“I … I want to ask you, about a … a thing.” The young man begins to speak.
Bian Lingbai can never imagine this man for stammerer, and therefore trying his best to look like he doesn’t find this at all strange, he says, “Please go ahead, sir.”
“His name is He Mo.” Shang Leguan says to Bian Lingbai. “His words carry the same weight as my own. It’s like this: merchant caravans from all over come through Tongguan, so this must be quite the information gathering spot, and you must have your own intelligence … staff, General Bian. In the central plain, or even all the way to Xichuan, the net you cast must be wider than our own.”
Bian Lingbai nods, noticing that the young man seems a bit agitated; his lips are quivering. The others quiet down then, waiting for him to speak first, not a one of them daring to cut in, which makes him think that the young man must be someone quite important in Xiliang.
“I want you to help me … gather information, and within … your borders, find a … person.” The young man named He Mo raises a finger to emphasise “find a person”, and gestures with his palm to encompass everyone in the room, then he says to Bian Lingbai, “Tell all of them to withdraw.”
Shang Leguan remains in the room. And so without knowing why, Bian Lingbai sends all the servants and guards outside, and Shang Leguan closes the main hall’s door. Bian Lingbai has an indistinct feeling that this matter is far more than it seems.
“There’s no harm in speaking your mind,” Bian Lingbai says immediately.
“You need to keep … keep secret.” The young man exhorts once more.
“Naturally.”
“He’s Han … like you … called ‘Duan Ling’, have you … heard of him?” The young man looks solemnly into Bian Lingbai’s eyes.
“Duan Ling?” Bian Lingbai racks his brain for a bit and replies, “No, I haven’t. Why are you looking for this person, Mister He?”
“Once … you find him … there will be three hundred yi of gold as thanks. I … give one hundred yi of gold.”
Bian Lingbai goes quiet.
“And another person, also … give one hundred yi of gold.”
Bian Lingbai is quite silent.
He Mo gives Shang Leguan a glance. Shang Leguan nods at him and He Mo continues, “And another person, will give … one hundred … one hundred yi of gold. Three hundred yi of gold in total.”
What kind of concept is a hundred yi of gold? One yi is twenty-four taels, a hundred yi would be two-thousand four hundred taels of gold, three hundred yi is seven thousand and two hundred — that’s four hundred and fifty catty of shiny yellow solid gold.
Since the fall of Shangzi, the tribute sent by Chen to Liao each year is worth about eight-thousand taels of gold. That is to say, in one throw, He Mo is going to toss out an entire year of Great Chen’s tribute. All at once Bian Lingbai feels as though he’s been hit rather badly in the head and he’s bloody and disoriented.
“Three hundred yi of gold to buy this man’s head.” Bian Lingbai’s got it.
“Buy whose head?!” He Mo snarls at his words and slaps the table. The cups and saucers shudder and tea splashes all over. Shang Leguan immediately asks He Mo to calm down.
Bian Lingbai hastens to say, “Certainly! You want him alive! I misunderstood!”
The young man’s anger is quelled only then. That burst of rage earlier had somehow shown the might of a young lion. Bian Lingbai suddenly has a vague idea of who this young man is now.
“Do you have a portrait of him?”
“I … draw you … one.”
For three hundred yi of gold, even if Bian Lingbai has to dig three feet below the ground and turnover every inch of soil in Great Chen, he must find this person! And so with the two sides reaching an understanding, He Mo agrees to go get a portrait ready, and for now they rest.
Duan Ling and Wu Du have gone out to purchase medicinal ingredients, and they come back just in time to see a bunch of Tangut carrying crates of stuff inside. They stop to watch for a while.
“It’s sure hard to get a wife these days.” Wu Du seems inspired. “You need to send out crates and crates of gifts. A pauper like myself can never afford to get married, naturally.”
“The Tangut are rich. They can live an entire life on selling horses alone. When it’s time for you to get married, I can be the one to save up the bride price for you.” As he says this, Duan Ling keeps looking at Wu Du sidelong, feeling more than a bit jealous. He’s saying these words, sure, but he’s rather reluctant to part with him; it feels as though another person is about to stake ownership over something that’s his.
Wu Du scoffs at that, and they banter on this back and forth some more before he’s off to prepare the medicinal ingredients with Duan Ling for Fei Hongde. Duan Ling sits outside the door with a mortar and pestle listening to the conversation between Wu Du and Fei Hongde going on inside.
“We hardly know each other. I really can’t thank you both enough for looking after me so.”
“People drift and wander like duckweed, wither and fall as easily as autumn leaves. My master always used to say that we shouldn’t need to know each other well or to have a reason when it comes to taking care of each other.”
The two are silent for a while before Wu Du suddenly speaks again. “Are you quite aware of the assassin’s identity, Master Fei?”
Fei Hongde doesn’t answer. When Duan Ling hears this he can’t help but glance over at Fei Hongde, and Fei Hongde just happened to be looking at him as well.
After they returned from the attack, Bian Lingbai did send some men to try to find out the assassin’s origins as well as his whereabouts, but Fei Hongde hasn’t brought up the incident at all. Duan Ling has been wondering about it for a while, but Wu Du’s words have finally set his mind working. For someone like Fei Hongde to not hazard even a guess at all — could it be a personal vendetta?
“Is the assassin Tangut?” Duan Ling asks.
Duan Ling, along with Wu Du, has taken a look at the arrow that struck Fei Hongde once they returned to the estate — it’s the kind of small black pig-iron arrow that mounted bandits favour through Xiyu to Xiliang, with a groove for blood-letting, so perhaps it’s an assassin sent from Xiliang. Maybe Xiliang has sent someone to assassinate Bian Lingbai’s close advisor, or maybe they’re trying to give him a warning; either is possible.
But if it’s really an assassin with meticulous plans who hoped to succeed on the first attempt, of course he wouldn’t be so stupid as to use his own arrows. If that’s the case then anyone is possible. It could even be Helan Jie …
“My guess is that it’s an assassin sent from Xiliang,” Fei Hongde says.
“Could it be the party that’s come to pick up the bride?” Duan Ling asks.
Fei Hongde shakes his head. “Do you remember how you were ambushed by mounted bandits on the way here?”
All at once, Duan Ling seems able to dimly connect these events together.
“General Bian is no more than a pawn in this affair.” Fei Hongde relates slowly. “As for the purpose of Lady Yao marrying far from home … that is a transaction long decided between Xiliang and the Yao family of Huaiyin.”
“What transaction?” Duan Ling brings in the ground up ingredients, closes the door, and hands it to Wu Du. Wu Du begins to simmer a decoction.
“Trade. Military affairs. For one Yao Fu will need warhorses, for two he needs to keep Xichuan in check, and for three — most importantly — Yao Fu wants to ally with Xiliang to oppose the Liao Southern Administration’s Han Weiyong clan. After the battle of Shangjing last year, Xiyu’s trade route which passes through Xiliang’s Shazhou3 and Jincheng has since been sealed. It needs to be reopened before their silk trade with the Jiangnan region can resume.”
“Does Chancellor Mu not know that?” Duan Ling asks.
“He knows.” Fei Hongde looks at Duan Ling impressively, and nods. “But Yao Fu doesn’t want to go through the imperial court, because if he does then there’ll be many added restrictions once the matter is examined and discussed at court.”
“True. Once we form an official alliance with Xiliang, the central government will find some way to take over this trade route.”
“That’s why,” Fei Hongde says ploddingly, “Yao Jing marrying away from home is only the first link in the chain of Yao family’s breach into Xiliang. If all goes as planned she’ll probably marry into the Shang family who has close ties to the queen. Xiliang is currently split into two factions, with the queen of Tuyuhun origin and her relatives in one faction. After the Xiliang King’s death,4 Consort Helian and her son both became dependent on the queen. The Shangs of the Cavalier Attendant-in-ordinary as well as proponents of the Bureau of Military Affairs, which holds sway over the army, are both this faction’s backbone; as for the other faction, that would be the late Xiliang King’s older brother Helian Da and the functionaries he leads. This faction has closer ties to the Southern Administration of Liao.”
Duan LIng nods. “Then, do these factions know about this marriage alliance?”
“What do you think? I suspect that gang of bandits attacked her on purpose, and their purpose was to thwart a marriage alliance between the Yaos and the Shangs. Or more likely … Yao Jing isn’t meant to marry into the Shang family at all, but into the royal family.”
The situation is finally, gradually clearing up for Duan Ling. If that’s the case, then it is possible that Xiliang’s Liao faction wishes to break off this engagement. However this doesn’t seem like it would have a lot to do with the attack on Fei Hongde.
“What do you think?” Duan Ling asks Wu Du.
“I don’t get it,” without pausing to think, Wu Du replies.
Fei Hongde laughs. Wu Du wipes off his hands and tosses the towel aside. “I don’t understand all this stuff that goes on in your literati heads. Take this and apply it on Master Fei’s wound.”
“Master Wu is his own free man, like a lone seagull between heaven and earth,” Fei Hongde says smilingly.
“A single copper confounds even a hero, as they say. I’m not what I used to be,” Wu Du says casually.
Duan Ling thinks, How old are you? You make it sound like you’ve lived through dynasties or something.
Duan Ling applies a poultice for Fei Hongde, and Fei Hongde continues, “I used to know Yao Jing’s mother quite well, and I was going to have a chat with her, but this thing had to happen right when I came back to Tongguan. If you’re not busy, could you perhaps visit her on my behalf?”
Duan Ling is slightly startled at first, then after a moment’s consideration he comes to understand that Fei Hongde is implying more than just a simple visit. Yao Jing is about to marry into the Shang family; that is to say she must have brought some sort of request from Yao Fu. Getting to know her better would be advantageous. He may even be able to get some information out of her.
Duan Ling glances over to Wu Du. Wu Du says, “If you want to go, we’ll go.”
“What do I have to say? Master Fei, do you have something you want to tell her?”
“Tell her …” Fei Hongde contemplates for a bit, then he finally says, “Oh never mind, each of our destiny is mandated by the heavens, so there’s no point in forcing things. But if I’m right, then it’s quite possible that the one Yao Jing will have to marry isn’t Shang Leguan but someone else. For now you can ask her if she knows, and we’ll figure out what to do once you have an answer.”
Duan Ling has realised that the whole time Fei Hongde has remained in Tongguan, he had never taken Bian Lingbai seriously. To him, Bian Lingbai is nothing more than a boorish, reckless man. His main objective may actually have something to do with the marriage alliance between the Yaos and Xiliang.
Duan Ling and Wu Du leave, and now they’re outside Yao Jing’s courtyard house, looking around.
“Is she inside?” Duan Ling says.
“Just call out for her.” Wu Du says, “Why are you dragging your feet?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
In Duan Ling’s concept of the sexes, girls are like a separate tribe of people altogether; his father has managed to teach him nearly everything, but he’s never taught him how to communicate with girls. Perhaps in Li Jianhong’s impression of their meeting, he has no idea how he was able to capture Duan Xiaowan’s heart either.
Wu Du leaps onto the wall and glances inside. “She’s inside, drawing. You go ahead, I’ll stay out here. It’s not proper for me to see her.”
Duan Ling is still feeling a bit shy, but Yao Jing’s middle-aged servant is out in the courtyard sweeping, and when he hears the noise he comes out to take a look. He immediately says to Duan Ling, “Mister Bian! Please do come in!”
Duan Ling hasn’t realised that “Mister Bian” is referring to him at first, but then someone is going eh from behind the walls, so Duan Ling can but brace himself and head inside. Yao Jing gets up to greet him right away, moving to a side seat so she can leave the seat of honour to Duan Ling. Then she orders the middle-aged man put on tea.
“Since you’re General Bian’s family,” Yao Jing says smilingly, “then I’ll simply call you as I would a paternal cousin.”
“Lady Yao, there’s no need to be so polite. Just act as if this is your own home.”
Speaking of blood ties, Duan Ling’s aunt did marry Yao Jing’s uncle, so they really are distantly related cousins on the maternal side. However, before a woman is wed, she can meet with her male cousins on the paternal side, but not ones from the maternal side. Yao Jing is currently living under Bian Lingbai’s roof, so in calling Duan Ling as she would a paternal cousin, she’s both indicating that the relationship between Bian Lingbai and Yao Fu is hardly a shallow one, and it’d avoid attracting rumours of her meeting with a man. That is rather smart of her.
Yao Jing must have had a difficult childhood, Duan Ling thinks, and cannot help but feel sympathetic.
“The groom’s party who’s come to pick you up has arrived from Xiliang today,” Duan Ling drinks a sip of tea as he says to Yao Jing.
“I heard.” Yao Jing gives him a slight smile. “Bianxiong, did you see Mister Shang already?”
“Your future husband, is he?” Duan Ling turns the question on her. “Well, I haven’t, actually. When I have time I should go greet him.”
“Did Mister Shang come personally?”
Duan Ling hums in the affirmative, then he repeats the question, “Is it true that you’re marrying into the Shang family?”
Yao Jing looks a bit confused, then she nods at him. Duan Ling can tell that she must not know anything. Whether she marries into the Shang family or the Xiliang royal family though, what awaits her will never be a simple, harmonious life between husband and wife.
Suddenly Duan LIng has no idea what he can say to comfort her. But it’s Yao Jing who gives him a considerate smile instead. “I hear that everyone in Xiliang likes to drink wine and race their horses along the plains. If Princess Ruiping is here, she’ll love it.”
“Well, noble families aren’t quite like that. I’m sure they won’t be uncultured.”
As they’re speaking, the middle-aged servant comes in and says, “My lady, there’s a bunch of … bunch of Tangut outside, coming this way. I don’t know if you’re …”
His words are still hanging in the air when the hubbub of a crowd grows louder. Yao Jing hasn’t the darnedest idea what’s going on, but Duan Ling can understand Tangut, so he knows that those young men of the groom’s party must be here to make a scene. West of the Great Wall, Tangut, Mongolian, Rouran, and the Xiongnu tribes aren’t like the Han, and the custom of “serenade” in a proposal is widespread. That is, after the engagement and before the bride is escorted to her new husband’s family, the groom-to-be will gather a bunch of good friends and make a visit to his bride-to-be, climb onto the courtyard wall, and serenade the girl from the top of the wall while the girl respond calmly with her own singing voice from her room, generously allowing spectators to look on.
Yet the Han doesn’t have the same customs, and there’s no way the Shang family won’t know that. They can have no other reason to be here making a commotion than to play around, out of the playful nature of young men.
“You can ignore them,” Duan Ling says. “All you have to do is sit here. In a little while, I’ll go send them away for you.”
“So this is a serenade proposal then?” Yao Jing says. Clearly she’s asked about it before she came.
“That’s right. There will be three rounds of singing all together. I’ll sing a couple of lines for you in a bit, and they’ll go away.”
The first round is sung outside the courtyard walls. Wu Du glances over, and knowing that it’s a foreign custom, he ignores it. Holding a grass straw in his mouth, he sits on the eaves, overlooking the scene below.
The general translation of the first round of lyrics is roughly: beautiful girl, why do you ignore me so? Soon we’ll be married, and we’ll see each other both day and night …
Right afterwards, the second round begins, and with a leap all the young men jump onto the top of the wall.
Duan Ling is drinking his tea, and at the first sound of an instrument he cannot help but spit it back out, as to his surprise they’ve even brought their lutes. Duan Ling just finds it all fascinating; he looks outside to find a row of extravagantly dressed young men sitting astride the wall, strumming their lutes, singing as they play.
The second round roughly translates to: if you’ll keep being so shy, when will I ever get to see your beautiful face … According to Xiliang etiquette, the woman being proposed to should walk into the courtyard with a veil over her face now, and stand there quietly. Then the young men are going to jeer and she’s to sing her solo.
“It sounds lovely.” From their singing Yao Jing can feel the passionate vitality of the young men and the idea of a wonderful love.
“It’s written by a Persian poet,” Duan Ling says, “It means: from now on I will only plant the flowers you love in my garden, and I will sing for you, let you soar freely over the skies above.”
Very lightly, and very quietly, Yao Jing lets out a sigh. She’s about to get up, but Duan Ling tells her, “Don’t go outside.”
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. ↩︎
Western Xia was the dynasty name of the Tangut people. The text has been referring to the territory as Xiliang, but historically it was “Xixia”, or Western Xia. Presumably the Xiliang here is the one after Khitan and Mongolian invasions, and its territories are greatly diminished to a narrow band between the fictional Chen and Yuan, north of Tongguan, sandwiched between this universe’s Chen, Liao, and Yuan. ↩︎
Literally means “sand province” and it used to be on the western edge of Xixia (Xiliang). It’s off the edge of our map. Jincheng is near present Lanzhou. ↩︎
While Yuan and Liao were both historically empires, Western Xia was a kingdom. ↩︎
