On the seventh day of the seventh month thirteen years after the signing of the Treaty of Shangzi, war broke out once more between Chen and Xiliang.
The battle on the night of Seventh of Seventh was like a flash of lightning crossing a night sky — it lasted less than one day.
Before news of the battle reached the courts of Liao, Yuan, and Chen, the Xiliang army had already been recalled, running away with its tail between its legs.
On the seventh day of the seventh month, at the Battle of Tongguan, counting those in Qinling and those who entered the city, a total of seventeen thousand Xiliang soldiers died, and thirteen thousand were captured.
Next day, Xiliang’s Helian Da sent an urgent missive to recall their regular army and cavalry disguised as mounted bandits, and gathered up his scattered and wounded forces, retreating thirty miles.
On that night, Bian Lingbai died from severe illness.
In the wee hours of the next morning, a newly appointed Imperial Envoy arrived in Tongguan to reorganise the army and to take over Bian Lingbai’s military leadership.
“Before I even set out on my journey, Chancellor Mu already told me that you possess superior clarity of thought and work in an extremely orderly fashion — that you’re able to consider your actions from all aspects. Now that I’ve met you, that does seem to be the case. It’s hard not to exclaim how the rising generation is something to be reckoned with.”
Zheng Li is already over sixty, and he keeps a white beard. When Duan Ling’s grandfather was still alive, this old man used to lead the Southern Chen army through one battle after another beyond their borders. Getting him to come out of retirement to keep watch over Tongguan is the best choice they could have made.
Feeling rather embarrassed by the praise, Duan Ling says, “You flatter me. It was fortunate that Master Fei and Wu Du were here.”
Standing in front of Zheng Li, Duan Ling really has no choice but to be humble. Even though he was the one who facilitated the current situation in Tongguan, he made a plethora of mistakes while carrying out his mission, and twice he nearly died. If he didn’t have Wu Du, he couldn’t have gotten anything done at all.
Zheng Li briefly reorganised Tongguan’s military structure, keeping Vice Generals Wang and Xie in their places. Duan Ling can tell Zheng Li is going to make use of Xie Hao soon enough, and knows that he won’t have to remind him which one of those men are up to the task.
Though his role in Tongguan has ended, Duan Ling still has a huge mess he has to clean up. He says his farewells to Zheng Li and immediately sets off on his journey back to Xichuan.
“I’ve seen you before. Seven years ago, in an apothecary in Shangjing.”
Wu Du has finally remembered.
The other night, on the Seventh of Seventh, Duan Ling finally told him, “Yes, it was me. You even scared me with the Gold Crow.”
“But you …” Wu Du really can’t figure it out. Scenes of the past rush into his head all at once in an overlapping stream.
After the autumnal rainstorms, Tongguan’s skies are a freshly washed blue. Their carriage sets out once more, this time on its journey south, driven again by their deafmute coachman. Wu Du and Duan Ling are sitting in the carriage.
As they’re entering Mount Ba and leaving the Qinling Mountains behind, Duan Ling tells the coachman to stop the carriage on the side of the road, with maples to their left and right. Duan Ling helps Wu Du off the carriage to take a break in the maple forest for a little while, and he draws a bucket of water so he can put fresh ointment on Wu Du.
Their backdrop is a flaming-red maple forest. Wu Du’s palm had been injured in the battle, and he also sprained his ankle. He gets out of the carriage, sits down on a great big rock, and rests his bare right foot on a short folding stool.
Duan Ling mixes the ointment and helps him into fresh dressings, bringing down the swelling of the foot first, then untying the bandages of Wu Du’s left hand to apply ointment for stanching bleeding and to help skin regrow.
“The wound on your hand will be all healed up in about a month.” Duan Ling says to Wu Du, “as long as it doesn’t get infected. The ankle on the other hand is going to take more time. Tendons and bones take a hundred days to heal. Be a bit more careful over the next several days.”
Wu Du stares at Duan Ling unblinkingly. “It’s nothing.”
“Your lightness arts are so good. We have to make sure you don’t end up with a permanent injury.”
“What were you going to tell me before? You kept dragging your feet, but now that there’s no one around you can finally tell me, right?”
Duan Ling gives him a smile. “When we were in the cave that day you also told me you have something to tell me. What is it?”
On the night of the battle, before they managed to speak more, they were interrupted by the Tangut withdrawal of their troops, and then it was just one thing after another. Wu Du has been racking his brains over the past two days as to why Duan Ling would appear in a Shangjing apothecary seven years ago on that snowy night to no avail.
But Duan Ling also once told him that his father was a medicine merchant — so maybe he was the shopkeeper at the apothecary?
“Let me ask you first. Why did I ever see you there at the time?” Wu Du asks with a frown. “Weren’t you from Xunbei?”
“It’s destiny, you know?” Duan Ling replies, “The circumstances of our eventual meeting were set in motion even then.”
Duan Ling carefully applies ointment over Wu Du’s hand.
Wu Du awkwardly glances towards the sea of maple trees that cover the hills; red leaves are drifting to earth all around them.
“Destiny? I … I’ve made a vow with my sect. I can never marry, and I cannot ever have a family. I’m not even supposed to have a career.”
“How come?”
“All assassins are like that. If you have a family or a lover then you’d have a weakness. You kill an enemy, and if their descendents want revenge, they’ll kill your wife and children and set fire to your house. Someone who kills for a living … what prospects can they have?”
“But what about your master and his wife? Didn’t they get married anyway?”
“They didn’t get married officially. She had no actual status, but to me, she was my master’s wife. When Shangzi fell and my master died in battle, she committed suicide so she could leave with him. That’s when the Shining Armour you’re now wearing went missing. Even the Sword Manual of the Realm fell into Zhao Kui’s hands when he arrived as reinforcements.”
“So you only worked for Zhao Kui because you wanted to find it, was that it?”
Wu Du nods. “Zhao Kui knew I’d leave if I ever found it, and that’s why he hid it.”
“And what were you going to do once you found it? Were you going to restore your martial arts sect?”
“The sect has been derelict for ages, the initial ideals that were passed down have long been at odds with what we actually are, and the Zhenshanhe is gone too. But the White Tiger Hall still has one last obligation — to protect the ruler in troubled times.
"But … the ruler has no need for my protection. The crown prince intends to recruit me, but I know what he wants is an obedient assassin, and not a disciple of the White Tiger. When it’s all said and done, he still doesn’t need me.”
But I need you, Duan Ling thinks. I need you.
Wu Du says, “Whether it’s Zhao Kui, Chancellor Mu, or even the crown prince … aside from the late emperor, everyone just wants a butcher’s blade. Not that anyone’s to blame, really; everyone goes around killing each other when the world’s not at peace anyway.”
Duan Ling repeatedly hesitates to speak, and Wu Du misunderstands that Duan Ling is trying to find words to comfort him. He pats Duan Ling on the shoulder instead. “What about you, Shan’er? What are your plans? I know you want to make a name for yourself. You’re going to be sixteen this year. If you stay with me all the time it’s only going to hold you back.”
“Wha—what?” Duan Ling suddenly finds it funny to hear that, but he also feels his heart warming over.
“It’s just like what you said. I went to Shangjing seven years ago intending to carry out a mission, and meeting you then was destiny. The heavens brought you to my side so perhaps this same destiny is still moving fate’s strings.”
When Duan LIng hears him say this, he can’t keep down the rush of emotions that rises in his heart, either; Is it destiny? Maybe from the very moment he was born, everything has been meant to be — he’s meant to be the crown prince of Southern Chen, Li Jianhong’s son, and that one day he would be brought to Shangjing, and he’s meant to meet Wu Du on that particular day.
“I’m not going to marry, but you’re different. You can’t possibly just stay with me for the rest of your life. When we get home, take some time to think about it. You’re only sixteen, you’re going to have great prospects in the future …”
“Of course I’m going to stay with you for the rest of my life.” Duan Ling finishes wrapping the bandage around Wu Du’s hand and ties it neatly. “I don’t want to get married either, but a career should be fine.”
“If you …” as though he’s anticipated such an answer from Duan Ling, he adds, “stay with me without any official status or anything, what will you be? Are you going to be my servant for the rest of your life? What about your ranking on the exams? Didn’t you want to get ahead?”
“I mean like your master and his wife.”
Wu Du’s entire face suddenly blushes right red; Duan Ling also just realises that what he said seems a bit off.
A maple leaf flutters down and quietly lands on a pile of leaves, producing a light rustling sound.
Wu Du stares at Duan Ling. “Then … why don’t you just … simply …”
“Simply what?” Duan Ling says vacantly.
Wu Du waves a hand after some thinking. “Never mind, never mind — I was just saying.”
Duan Ling is utterly befuddled.
Wu Du adds, “You’re lucky you didn’t end up with Zheng Yan. Well then … let’s leave it at that for now.”
“Zheng Yan? What does Zheng Yan have to do with it?”
“Nothing much.” Wu Du waves his hand again dismissively. “Let’s head back.”
“Wait. I have something else to tell you.”
Wu Du looks at him questioningly.
Holding Wu Du’s hand, Duan Ling sits quietly and dwells in his thoughts for a while, and he suddenly comes to understand what Wu Du said earlier. They’ve never once talked about this issue before — even though to Mu Kuangda and everyone else, this young man who appeared out of nowhere is the son of a friend of Wu Du’s, they two are quite aware of what they are. Wu Du knows that Duan Ling is only taking shelter under his protection temporarily, and maybe he’ll leave; that’s why they just had that conversation.
Hearing Duan Ling say what he said has made Wu Du very happy; his kindness has been repaid in kind.
“My dad’s passing is the saddest thing that’s ever happened to me,” Duan Ling says, and he sits down on the same rock, taking Wu Du’s hand in his.
But meanwhile Wu Du has shifted their grip to slot their fingers together, showing no sign of letting go. Looking somewhat embarrassed he says to Duan Ling, “I will treat you well.”
“Do you remember the day we first met?” Duan Ling says.
Wu Du smiles. “Was your dad the shopkeep at Prosperity Hall? I remember that you were holding a ginseng root. It was to keep a pregnant woman from dying.”
“It was for Wuluohou Mu. He got run through on your sword and nearly died.”
Wu Du goes very quiet; in an instant, his smile fades away, and he stares at Duan Ling incredulously.
"‘Zhu’ was the first person I ever killed. Under my dad’s orders, Wuluohou Mu picked me up from Shangzi, and once he found me, he hid me in Shangjing. You led the Chen Shadow Guard on a long-range, force march raid north to search for my whereabouts. The day after Zhu died, you even came to the schoolhouse to look for me, but you got the wrong person and grabbed Cai Yan.
“And then … I grew up in Shangjing. Two years ago, in spring, dad returned to my side. He taught me all the things you thought I ought not to know, such as how to lead troops, how to plan a battle, lightness arts, leaping onto high places … he trained me in archery, and he even taught me the Sword of the Realm.”
Duan Ling lets go of Wu Du’s hand and gets to his feet. “Watch.”
Duan Ling focuses his mind and recalls the Palm of the Realm. With a quick step forward he sets a sky of maple leaves adrift. Wu Du is still caught in an extreme state of shock as Duan Ling crisscrosses through a sea of blood red maple, stepping through each move with ease before he draws his palms to himself, then turning to his side to push them downwards. He’s gone through the entire set from the beginning to the end.
“Some parts were wrong,” Duan Ling says, a bit nervously, “but on the whole it was mostly right.”
For a while, Wu Du simply stares in front of him, unable to get any words out. Duan Ling sits back down next to him and gives him a shake. “Hey, Wu Du, are you listening?”
“And … and then what?” Wu Du’s voice is shaking. His mind has gone entirely blank.
Duan Ling picks up Wu Du’s hand, and slots their fingers together as before. “And then Shangjing fell, dad never came, and I escaped from the city with Cai Yan.”
Wu Du is only now staring at Duan Ling, dazed and absolutely stunned. His mind seemingly wandering, Duan Ling says, "I don’t know what happened afterwards, but at any rate by the time I returned to Xichuan, things were the way they are now. I don’t know who impersonated me, but I’ve lost everything. Lang Junxia … Wuluohou Mu poisoned me and threw me into the river. Maybe I drifted with the current and that’s where you saved me.
“I’m sorry, Wu Du. I lied to you about a lot of things. I didn’t dare say anything … I was worried that you were loyal to Chancellor Mu …”
Wu Du stumbles off the rock and steps onto the ground.
Duan Ling seems baffled.
“You’re … I knew it … I thought something didn’t feel right …” Wu Du’s voice quakes as he says, “It’s not him, but you, that’s the real crown prince … you’re … you’re …”
Injured still, Wu Du falls on his knees in front of Duan Ling.
“Get up!” Duan Ling says immediately.
“Your Highness,” Wu Du says as he gasps for breath, “It is all because of my incompetence that I failed to keep the late emperor safe …”
Duan Ling gets down on his knees in front of Wu Du as well. “Get up already!”
“You get up …” Wu Du tries to make Duan Ling get up.
“You get up!” Duan Ling sounds panicked.
They stare blankly at each other for a beat before Wu Du suddenly wraps his arms tight around Duan Ling, so overcome with emotions that he can’t find words for what he’s feeling; everything that he couldn’t figure out before can now be explained.
“I don’t blame you. I really don’t blame you. You were never at fault to begin with, and if you believe that you are at fault then I’ll forgive your wrongs on behalf of my late father. From this moment on, you don’t have to hold that against yourself anymore.”
Wu Du has his arms wrapped around Duan Ling so tightly, and with so much strength, that Duan Ling almost finds it painful.
“Rise, Wu Du.” Duan Ling makes Wu Du stand up, and they gaze into each other’s eyes for a long time, so many emotions have bubbled up to the fore, but neither know where to begin.
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. ↩︎
On the seventh day of the seventh month thirteen years after the signing of the Treaty of Shangzi, war broke out once more between Chen and Xiliang.
The battle on the night of Seventh of Seventh was like a flash of lightning crossing a night sky — it lasted less than one day.
Before news of the battle reached the courts of Liao, Yuan, and Chen, the Xiliang army had already been recalled, running away with its tail between its legs.
On the seventh day of the seventh month, at the Battle of Tongguan, counting those in Qinling and those who entered the city, a total of seventeen thousand Xiliang soldiers died, and thirteen thousand were captured.
Next day, Xiliang’s Helian Da sent an urgent missive to recall their regular army and cavalry disguised as mounted bandits, and gathered up his scattered and wounded forces, retreating thirty miles.
On that night, Bian Lingbai died from severe illness.
In the wee hours of the next morning, a newly appointed Imperial Envoy arrived in Tongguan to reorganise the army and to take over Bian Lingbai’s military leadership.
“Before I even set out on my journey, Chancellor Mu already told me that you possess superior clarity of thought and work in an extremely orderly fashion — that you’re able to consider your actions from all aspects. Now that I’ve met you, that does seem to be the case. It’s hard not to exclaim how the rising generation is something to be reckoned with.”
Zheng Li is already over sixty, and he keeps a white beard. When Duan Ling’s grandfather was still alive, this old man used to lead the Southern Chen army through one battle after another beyond their borders. Getting him to come out of retirement to keep watch over Tongguan is the best choice they could have made.
Feeling rather embarrassed by the praise, Duan Ling says, “You flatter me. It was fortunate that Master Fei and Wu Du were here.”
Standing in front of Zheng Li, Duan Ling really has no choice but to be humble. Even though he was the one who facilitated the current situation in Tongguan, he made a plethora of mistakes while carrying out his mission, and twice he nearly died. If he didn’t have Wu Du, he couldn’t have gotten anything done at all.
Zheng Li briefly reorganised Tongguan’s military structure, keeping Vice Generals Wang and Xie in their places. Duan Ling can tell Zheng Li is going to make use of Xie Hao soon enough, and knows that he won’t have to remind him which one of those men are up to the task.
Though his role in Tongguan has ended, Duan Ling still has a huge mess he has to clean up. He says his farewells to Zheng Li and immediately sets off on his journey back to Xichuan.
“I’ve seen you before. Seven years ago, in an apothecary in Shangjing.”
Wu Du has finally remembered.
The other night, on the Seventh of Seventh, Duan Ling finally told him, “Yes, it was me. You even scared me with the Gold Crow.”
“But you …” Wu Du really can’t figure it out. Scenes of the past rush into his head all at once in an overlapping stream.
After the autumnal rainstorms, Tongguan’s skies are a freshly washed blue. Their carriage sets out once more, this time on its journey south, driven again by their deafmute coachman. Wu Du and Duan Ling are sitting in the carriage.
As they’re entering Mount Ba and leaving the Qinling Mountains behind, Duan Ling tells the coachman to stop the carriage on the side of the road, with maples to their left and right. Duan Ling helps Wu Du off the carriage to take a break in the maple forest for a little while, and he draws a bucket of water so he can put fresh ointment on Wu Du.
Their backdrop is a flaming-red maple forest. Wu Du’s palm had been injured in the battle, and he also sprained his ankle. He gets out of the carriage, sits down on a great big rock, and rests his bare right foot on a short folding stool.
Duan Ling mixes the ointment and helps him into fresh dressings, bringing down the swelling of the foot first, then untying the bandages of Wu Du’s left hand to apply ointment for stanching bleeding and to help skin regrow.
“The wound on your hand will be all healed up in about a month.” Duan Ling says to Wu Du, “as long as it doesn’t get infected. The ankle on the other hand is going to take more time. Tendons and bones take a hundred days to heal. Be a bit more careful over the next several days.”
Wu Du stares at Duan Ling unblinkingly. “It’s nothing.”
“Your lightness arts are so good. We have to make sure you don’t end up with a permanent injury.”
“What were you going to tell me before? You kept dragging your feet, but now that there’s no one around you can finally tell me, right?”
Duan Ling gives him a smile. “When we were in the cave that day you also told me you have something to tell me. What is it?”
On the night of the battle, before they managed to speak more, they were interrupted by the Tangut withdrawal of their troops, and then it was just one thing after another. Wu Du has been racking his brains over the past two days as to why Duan Ling would appear in a Shangjing apothecary seven years ago on that snowy night to no avail.
But Duan Ling also once told him that his father was a medicine merchant — so maybe he was the shopkeeper at the apothecary?
“Let me ask you first. Why did I ever see you there at the time?” Wu Du asks with a frown. “Weren’t you from Xunbei?”
“It’s destiny, you know?” Duan Ling replies, “The circumstances of our eventual meeting were set in motion even then.”
Duan Ling carefully applies ointment over Wu Du’s hand.
Wu Du awkwardly glances towards the sea of maple trees that cover the hills; red leaves are drifting to earth all around them.
“Destiny? I … I’ve made a vow with my sect. I can never marry, and I cannot ever have a family. I’m not even supposed to have a career.”
“How come?”
“All assassins are like that. If you have a family or a lover then you’d have a weakness. You kill an enemy, and if their descendents want revenge, they’ll kill your wife and children and set fire to your house. Someone who kills for a living … what prospects can they have?”
“But what about your master and his wife? Didn’t they get married anyway?”
“They didn’t get married officially. She had no actual status, but to me, she was my master’s wife. When Shangzi fell and my master died in battle, she committed suicide so she could leave with him. That’s when the Shining Armour you’re now wearing went missing. Even the Sword Manual of the Realm fell into Zhao Kui’s hands when he arrived as reinforcements.”
“So you only worked for Zhao Kui because you wanted to find it, was that it?”
Wu Du nods. “Zhao Kui knew I’d leave if I ever found it, and that’s why he hid it.”
“And what were you going to do once you found it? Were you going to restore your martial arts sect?”
“The sect has been derelict for ages, the initial ideals that were passed down have long been at odds with what we actually are, and the Zhenshanhe is gone too. But the White Tiger Hall still has one last obligation — to protect the ruler in troubled times.
"But … the ruler has no need for my protection. The crown prince intends to recruit me, but I know what he wants is an obedient assassin, and not a disciple of the White Tiger. When it’s all said and done, he still doesn’t need me.”
But I need you, Duan Ling thinks. I need you.
Wu Du says, “Whether it’s Zhao Kui, Chancellor Mu, or even the crown prince … aside from the late emperor, everyone just wants a butcher’s blade. Not that anyone’s to blame, really; everyone goes around killing each other when the world’s not at peace anyway.”
Duan Ling repeatedly hesitates to speak, and Wu Du misunderstands that Duan Ling is trying to find words to comfort him. He pats Duan Ling on the shoulder instead. “What about you, Shan’er? What are your plans? I know you want to make a name for yourself. You’re going to be sixteen this year. If you stay with me all the time it’s only going to hold you back.”
“Wha—what?” Duan Ling suddenly finds it funny to hear that, but he also feels his heart warming over.
“It’s just like what you said. I went to Shangjing seven years ago intending to carry out a mission, and meeting you then was destiny. The heavens brought you to my side so perhaps this same destiny is still moving fate’s strings.”
When Duan LIng hears him say this, he can’t keep down the rush of emotions that rises in his heart, either; Is it destiny? Maybe from the very moment he was born, everything has been meant to be — he’s meant to be the crown prince of Southern Chen, Li Jianhong’s son, and that one day he would be brought to Shangjing, and he’s meant to meet Wu Du on that particular day.
“I’m not going to marry, but you’re different. You can’t possibly just stay with me for the rest of your life. When we get home, take some time to think about it. You’re only sixteen, you’re going to have great prospects in the future …”
“Of course I’m going to stay with you for the rest of my life.” Duan Ling finishes wrapping the bandage around Wu Du’s hand and ties it neatly. “I don’t want to get married either, but a career should be fine.”
“If you …” as though he’s anticipated such an answer from Duan Ling, he adds, “stay with me without any official status or anything, what will you be? Are you going to be my servant for the rest of your life? What about your ranking on the exams? Didn’t you want to get ahead?”
“I mean like your master and his wife.”
Wu Du’s entire face suddenly blushes right red; Duan Ling also just realises that what he said seems a bit off.
A maple leaf flutters down and quietly lands on a pile of leaves, producing a light rustling sound.
Wu Du stares at Duan Ling. “Then … why don’t you just … simply …”
“Simply what?” Duan Ling says vacantly.
Wu Du waves a hand after some thinking. “Never mind, never mind — I was just saying.”
Duan Ling is utterly befuddled.
Wu Du adds, “You’re lucky you didn’t end up with Zheng Yan. Well then … let’s leave it at that for now.”
“Zheng Yan? What does Zheng Yan have to do with it?”
“Nothing much.” Wu Du waves his hand again dismissively. “Let’s head back.”
“Wait. I have something else to tell you.”
Wu Du looks at him questioningly.
Holding Wu Du’s hand, Duan Ling sits quietly and dwells in his thoughts for a while, and he suddenly comes to understand what Wu Du said earlier. They’ve never once talked about this issue before — even though to Mu Kuangda and everyone else, this young man who appeared out of nowhere is the son of a friend of Wu Du’s, they two are quite aware of what they are. Wu Du knows that Duan Ling is only taking shelter under his protection temporarily, and maybe he’ll leave; that’s why they just had that conversation.
Hearing Duan Ling say what he said has made Wu Du very happy; his kindness has been repaid in kind.
“My dad’s passing is the saddest thing that’s ever happened to me,” Duan Ling says, and he sits down on the same rock, taking Wu Du’s hand in his.
But meanwhile Wu Du has shifted their grip to slot their fingers together, showing no sign of letting go. Looking somewhat embarrassed he says to Duan Ling, “I will treat you well.”
“Do you remember the day we first met?” Duan Ling says.
Wu Du smiles. “Was your dad the shopkeep at Prosperity Hall? I remember that you were holding a ginseng root. It was to keep a pregnant woman from dying.”
“It was for Wuluohou Mu. He got run through on your sword and nearly died.”
Wu Du goes very quiet; in an instant, his smile fades away, and he stares at Duan Ling incredulously.
"‘Zhu’ was the first person I ever killed. Under my dad’s orders, Wuluohou Mu picked me up from Shangzi, and once he found me, he hid me in Shangjing. You led the Chen Shadow Guard on a long-range, force march raid north to search for my whereabouts. The day after Zhu died, you even came to the schoolhouse to look for me, but you got the wrong person and grabbed Cai Yan.
“And then … I grew up in Shangjing. Two years ago, in spring, dad returned to my side. He taught me all the things you thought I ought not to know, such as how to lead troops, how to plan a battle, lightness arts, leaping onto high places … he trained me in archery, and he even taught me the Sword of the Realm.”
Duan Ling lets go of Wu Du’s hand and gets to his feet. “Watch.”
Duan Ling focuses his mind and recalls the Palm of the Realm. With a quick step forward he sets a sky of maple leaves adrift. Wu Du is still caught in an extreme state of shock as Duan Ling crisscrosses through a sea of blood red maple, stepping through each move with ease before he draws his palms to himself, then turning to his side to push them downwards. He’s gone through the entire set from the beginning to the end.
“Some parts were wrong,” Duan Ling says, a bit nervously, “but on the whole it was mostly right.”
For a while, Wu Du simply stares in front of him, unable to get any words out. Duan Ling sits back down next to him and gives him a shake. “Hey, Wu Du, are you listening?”
“And … and then what?” Wu Du’s voice is shaking. His mind has gone entirely blank.
Duan Ling picks up Wu Du’s hand, and slots their fingers together as before. “And then Shangjing fell, dad never came, and I escaped from the city with Cai Yan.”
Wu Du is only now staring at Duan Ling, dazed and absolutely stunned. His mind seemingly wandering, Duan Ling says, "I don’t know what happened afterwards, but at any rate by the time I returned to Xichuan, things were the way they are now. I don’t know who impersonated me, but I’ve lost everything. Lang Junxia … Wuluohou Mu poisoned me and threw me into the river. Maybe I drifted with the current and that’s where you saved me.
“I’m sorry, Wu Du. I lied to you about a lot of things. I didn’t dare say anything … I was worried that you were loyal to Chancellor Mu …”
Wu Du stumbles off the rock and steps onto the ground.
Duan Ling seems baffled.
“You’re … I knew it … I thought something didn’t feel right …” Wu Du’s voice quakes as he says, “It’s not him, but you, that’s the real crown prince … you’re … you’re …”
Injured still, Wu Du falls on his knees in front of Duan Ling.
“Get up!” Duan Ling says immediately.
“Your Highness,” Wu Du says as he gasps for breath, “It is all because of my incompetence that I failed to keep the late emperor safe …”
Duan Ling gets down on his knees in front of Wu Du as well. “Get up already!”
“You get up …” Wu Du tries to make Duan Ling get up.
“You get up!” Duan Ling sounds panicked.
They stare blankly at each other for a beat before Wu Du suddenly wraps his arms tight around Duan Ling, so overcome with emotions that he can’t find words for what he’s feeling; everything that he couldn’t figure out before can now be explained.
“I don’t blame you. I really don’t blame you. You were never at fault to begin with, and if you believe that you are at fault then I’ll forgive your wrongs on behalf of my late father. From this moment on, you don’t have to hold that against yourself anymore.”
Wu Du has his arms wrapped around Duan Ling so tightly, and with so much strength, that Duan Ling almost finds it painful.
“Rise, Wu Du.” Duan Ling makes Wu Du stand up, and they gaze into each other’s eyes for a long time, so many emotions have bubbled up to the fore, but neither know where to begin.
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. ↩︎
