A Single Tie Of Long Hair Seals A Lifelong Commitment - Chapter 13

It was late at night, the moon was bright, the stars were sparse, and the wind lanterns reflecting the snow made the Marquis Estate exceptionally bright.

A furtive figure was bustling quietly near Chen Linjun’s residence in the Xuanping Marquis Estate.

After circumventing the side chamber in Chen Linjun’s courtyard, the dark figure scanned the surroundings one last time, ensuring no one saw her, and silently slipped into a room where a lamp was lit.

“Jingming, I’m here to bring you medicine,” Chen Liangyu whispered.

After closing the door, four pairs of eyes stared directly at her: two pairs were stern, and two pairs were sympathetic.

Jingming was lying prone on the couch, while Chen Linjun sat on a folding chair by Jingming’s bed, looking at her with an unsmiling expression as she sneaked in like a thief. Jingming’s pitiful expression seemed to say: Miss, you’ll be sleeping in the ancestral hall tonight.

Chen Liangyu was very perceptive and lowered her head: “Big Brother, I was wrong.”

Chen Linjun hooked his long leg, pulling a chair over for her: “Do you know why I’m so angry with you?”

Chen Liangyu knew she had done wrong and dared not sit, so she stood answering: “I know. I shouldn’t have resorted to violence just because I was angry.”

Chen Linjun knocked twice on the edge of the couch where Jingming lay, his knuckles tapping loudly. He sighed: “You haven’t grasped the crux of the matter! Beating a scoundrel like that is fine; you grew up in the military camp, and a little friction ending in a few punches is no big deal. But you had to be clever and have Jingming meet Qiu Renshan in private. The Northern Territory army is about to be disbanded. Jingming meeting with a court official at this time suggests our family is forming a faction!”

He turned to scold Jingming, “She acts recklessly, and you follow suit, both behaving foolishly and without a sense of propriety!”

Jingming’s face was full of shame. He rose to apologize, but the movement aggravated his whip injuries, staining his inner clothes crimson again.

Chen Linjun was genuinely furious. He did not stop Jingming, letting him kneel on the couch, enduring the pain of his recent lashing.

“Liangyu has never been to Yongdu, so she may not understand the complicated ties between Yongdu and the North Territory, but shouldn’t you? Qiu Renshan’s discipline of his family’s son is a small matter. The major issue is the court suspecting the Marquis Estate of colluding with the North Territory to consolidate power and form a clique!”

Jingming was hunched over, not daring to straighten his shoulders, perhaps because the searing pain from the lash prevented him.

Chen Linjun reprimanded him for a good while, then turned back to Chen Liangyu, “Qiu Renshan appears to have no backing, but in fact, he has Consort Xian from the palace behind him. Consort Xian is Prince Shen’s birth mother. Your earlier attempt to request an imperial marriage, added to today’s incident—if the Emperor and the Crown Prince become suspicious of these various signs, believing our family intends to support Prince Shen, how will you clearly explain yourselves?”

Chen Linjun laid out the gains and losses, and his anger subsided, “Leave the medicine and go back to sleep! Yongdu is not the North Territory; you must be more circumspect in your words and actions. If this happens again, the military law will punish you!”

Chen Liangyu said: “Yes, Big Brother.”

Jingming said: “Yes, Young Marshal!”

Chen Liangyu placed the small jade jar she held on the edge of Jingming’s couch and quickly made her exit. Once she was under the eaves of the corridor, she took a deep breath.

“Miss, Miss.”

Chen Liangyu looked left and right but couldn’t find anyone.

“Miss, I’m here.” A square head poked out from beneath the railing, grinning. “Is Jingming dead?”

“No, he’s not.”

“That’s good.”

Jinghe and Jingming were both Chen Linjun’s left and right-hand men. Jinghe was physically strong but simple-minded and only knew how to follow orders. His only requirement for people was that they be alive.

Chen Liangyu pondered, feeling something was amiss. How did Big Brother manage to catch her and Jingming so coincidentally? She muttered, “How did Big Brother just happen to go to that place?”

Jinghe shook his head and was about to leave: “I don’t know. I didn’t tell him.”

Chen Liangyu took a light step onto the long bench under the corridor, grabbed the collar at the back of his neck, and pulled him back: “I knew it! You tattled on me again, Jinghe, are you looking for a beating?”

Jinghe violently shook his head, making the flesh on his cheeks jiggle rhythmically: “I didn’t! I didn’t tattle! The Young Marshal asked me, he asked me where you and Jingming went.”

Chen Liangyu gritted her teeth: “Couldn’t you have said you didn’t know?”

Jinghe shrank his neck. “The Young Marshal is not that easy to fool. Miss, you know I’m clumsy; I’d definitely be found out if I lied to the Young Marshal. Besides, if I tell the truth, you and Jingming get punished. If I conceal the truth from the Young Marshal, I’ll be the one punished.”

Chen Liangyu scoffed, giving him a flick on the forehead: “You’re quite good at self-preservation. I don’t think you’re clumsy at all.”

Jinghe rubbed his forehead and said, “Miss, what are you saying? I’m only clumsy in the head; I’m not stupid.”

Chen Liangyu sat down on the long bench, leaning against the railing with one arm casually resting behind her and crossing her legs. “When did Big Brother go?”

“Right after you two, I guess.”

Chen Liangyu reviewed the timeline and said, “Then it means Big Brother didn’t intend to stop me.”

Jinghe said, “He didn’t intend to stop you. The Young Marshal saw everything from upstairs, and I saw it too. Jingming threw a cup, and the Young Marshal and I went downstairs, just in time to bump into that little scoundrel scrambling away.”

“And then?”

“Then the Young Marshal kicked that brat. Nothing else happened. But with the Young Marshal’s leg power, I’d say that kick was quite something.”

No wonder there was such a large snow pit on the ground.

Chen Liangyu thought for a moment and said, “That’s not right. Why didn’t I see you when Jingming and I came out?”

“I was afraid you two would find out I leaked the secret to the Young Marshal, so I ran away first.” Jinghe grinned foolishly.

The back door corridor of Guanju Tower leads to the Xuanping Marquis Estate’s library. A pond was dug in front of the pavilion, and four large water tanks were placed inside to store water for fire suppression.

The craftsmen who built the library seemed to have a strong liking for the supernatural. The internal structure, with wooden shelves spiraling to the ceiling and divided into six levels, looked, at first glance, exactly like the pagoda that locks up demons in the opera plays.

It was eerily silent.

The library was filled with books, many of which were rare and unique editions, and access was generally restricted. Xie Wenjun climbed the ladder onto the narrow walkway, hooked her jade finger, and pulled a scroll from the forest of books into her palm. The cover was inscribed with the characters “Zongheng” (Vertical and Horizontal), but when she opened it, all the pages were blank, and a piece of paper, folded several times, dropped out.

Xie Wenjun picked it up and slowly unfolded it. It was a blueprint, depicting a place similar to the State Academy.

“Where is this place?” she asked.

Chen Liangyu took it, glanced at it—it was a terrain map of an academy she had drawn casually before.

“An academy,” Chen Liangyu replied.

“An academy where? I haven’t heard of it.”

Although there were places where people could study and learn characters among the common folk, they were generally private schools that hadn’t amounted to much, setting up a few benches in a courtyard and calling themselves a school. The teacher taught casually, and the students were lax, coming to class as they pleased. The only places considered proper for study were the Imperial State Academy and the Hanhong Academy in Cangnan. Besides these two, was there another place with such a magnificent academy?

“It’s an academy for women,” Chen Liangyu gently refolded the paper along the creases, placing it back inside the blank book. “It hasn’t been built yet, so of course, the Princess hasn’t heard of it.”

Xie Wenjun’s eyes brightened upon hearing ‘academy for women.’ She took the blueprint again and examined it carefully, looking at it silently for a long time before refolding the paper and returning it to its original place. Soon, her attention was drawn to the blank book. “Why are there no words in this book? Is this the one left by Marquis He?”

Chen Liangyu leapt to a high spot, sitting with one leg bent and leaning against the high pavilion. An ancient book was spread open on her lap. She glanced down.

The one below looked weak and fragile but had a stubborn temperament. No matter what military training methods Chen Liangyu used on her, she could maintain a calm expression and follow the rules to achieve her best within her limits.

After a period of time had passed, although she didn’t possess the innate talent, she was shaping up quite well.

Chen Liangyu acquired a taste for being a teacher and became increasingly strict. Perhaps out of curiosity, she wanted to see what extent this delicate and noble Princess Jiangning could endure. Day by day, Xie Wenjun was worn out and lost her temper. She secretly sought a moment of leisure when Chen Liangyu was briefly absent. When she was discovered, she finally softened and begged for a day of rest.

Xie Wenjun’s limbs were sore; even a thin, blank booklet required both hands to support it.

Chen Liangyu’s lips curved slightly upward; she wanted to laugh but held back. First, she answered her second question, “It’s the one left by my maternal grandfather.” Then she explained why the book was blank, “It’s a decoy. The real scrolls aren’t on paper.”

Zongheng (Vertical and Horizontal) was precisely the first three volumes of He’s Six Volumes. At the beginning of the Xuanyuan era, Chen Yuanqing relied on the three volumes of Zongheng to lead his armies to victory, with few defeats.

Xie Wenjun rubbed her shoulders and looked up at the high pavilion, “Where are the real scrolls?”

The building was magnificent, like being in a mountain gorge. The person was small. The clear, cold voice circled the stone rafters, echoing in the empty hall.

Chen Liangyu tapped her temple with her fingers. “Here. Those who study He’s Art of War must know every word and sentence by heart. No matter who it is taught to, it is never committed to writing. The scrolls circulated among the common folk are all used by street charlatans for deception.”

Xie Wenjun pondered for a moment and said, “If there is no physical record, wouldn’t the Art of War be lost forever if the last person to learn it unfortunately died before passing it on?”

“There are exceptions. If a person is in their twilight years with limited time left, and they happen to encounter a suitable successor, they will copy it and present it, telling the person to memorize it and figure it out for themselves, but it must be burned after memorization.”

Speaking of loss, Chen Liangyu was indeed regretful. “He’s Art of War originally had six volumes. Zongheng is only the first three volumes. The latter three volumes are called Yinyang Techniques (Yin-Yang Arts), which, along with the Bai Gui Dao (Hundred Tricks/Devious Ways), have been lost to the world.”

The Great Lin military deity He Niangong passed away in the mountains. Among his four great disciples, only Chen Yuanqing and Yan Baizhang remained.

Lin Jianshu, who possessed the three volumes of Yinyang, suddenly defected after helping Emperor Xuanyuan ascend the throne, leading three hundred elite troops away, disappearing without a trace. Jiang Bojin, who possessed Biaogui Dao, disappeared even earlier, rumored to have been cut down by random blades during the Rebellion of the Five Princes in the Yingtong era, and the Bai Gui Dao had no successor, thus vanishing.

All that remained in the world were Chen Yuanqing’s three volumes of Zongheng and Yan Baizhang’s Zhongzheng Techniques (Moderate and Upright Techniques).

“That’s truly a pity,” Xie Wenjun returned the blank booklet to its original place, and indeed saw a cover labeled ‘Bai Gui’ nearby, also with blank inner pages. “A-Li, what did you learn?”

“Zongheng and Zhongzheng.”

She was taught by her father and Uncle Yan. She excelled in either discipline individually, but she could never grasp the key to true integration. The two arts were like two intersecting but incompatible rivers: the Jing River was the Jing, the Wei River was the Wei, with clear distinctions between the muddy and the clear.

Perhaps her maternal grandfather, He Niangong, discovered this underlying principle, which is why he taught the four arts separately to four individuals, preventing them from understanding each other’s specialized techniques.

Xie Wenjun exhaled cold air, “Is this what allowed three thousand remnants to repel one hundred thousand enemy soldiers?” She waved the blank pages at the book.

Chen Liangyu immediately clenched the pages of the ancient book in her hand, creating several creases.

The library did not use ice in the summer or charcoal in the winter to prevent the books from becoming damp or catching fire. In the deep winter, the pavilion was dry and cold, and the chill caused people to shiver.

The air around her seemed to freeze. After a long time, she said, “Not entirely.”

The cold, rustling sound of arrowheads scraping against sand and stone echoed in her ears again. Warm throat-blood splashed onto her face, and raging fire burned the life out of people’s hearts into ashes, burying the wails.

Thick smoke accumulated in the sky, overwhelming everything, spreading despair.

The sound of beating bronze drums and gongs was the signal of a great victory, but she stood under the pale moonlight, unable to distinguish whether the piles beneath her feet were the corpses of the enemy or her own troops.

The garrison of Dingbei City Camp in Suzhou was almost entirely wiped out.

When the remnants retreated towards Qilian Pass, they had no time to collect the remains of their fallen comrades, leaving them awkwardly on the city walls and alleys like slaughtered animals. When the military flag was planted back on the walls of Dingbei City, the North Yong cavalry had trampled them beyond recognition, the steel blades tearing their flesh, leaving no final dignity intact.

It is said that one general’s success is built upon ten thousand withered bones—this is absolutely true!

When the war finally ended, all the cruelty, slaughter, and bloodshed were cloaked in a magnificent outer garment, transforming into dramatic and wonderful legends.

And the heroes created by the war, like Chen Liangyu, were that magnificent outer garment.

It concealed the truth of the war, minimized people’s fear, and inflamed the young men’s blood, making them brave and fearless, eager to try, hoping to become the next ‘hero’ when charging into battle with their own flesh and blood next time.

“I’ve made my choice.”

The ethereal voice dragged her back from the chaotic blood marsh to reality. Xie Wenjun was holding a few ancient books and had descended the ladder, waiting below.

In a momentary daze, she finally remembered that she was accompanying Princess Jiangning to the library to select a few books to alleviate boredom. Considering the coldness of the library, she had agreed to lend her own study for her use.

Chen Liangyu closed the book, tapped her toes on the ground, and leapt down from the high perch.