Cold Encounter with a Madman - Chapter 4

On the western side of the capital, there is a mountain with steep terrain that few people visit.

Xun Qi grew up on this mountain, so she was intimately familiar with every inch of it. She walked in front, while Yan Zhi’an followed her, stopping and going. She moved across the steep mountain paths as if she were walking on flat ground.

Now that the young girl’s injuries had healed, her original lively nature began to surface. Yan Zhi’an’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before drifting toward the branches and leaves covering the mountainside.

Xun Qi climbed the mountain as easily as an ordinary person walking on level ground. In contrast, the group of guards following behind were left far behind.

In her childhood, Yan Zhi’an had also traveled through mountains to survey mines. Stopping and starting, she barely managed to keep pace with Xun Qi.

By noon, the group had reached the mountainside. Yan Zhi’an leaned against a tree and could not help but stop. Sweat trickled down her back; despite it being the depths of winter, she had managed to work up a sweat. When the wind blew, she suddenly felt cold.

She looked at Xun Qi. Xun Qi stopped and handed her the water flask she was carrying.

Yan Zhi’an took the flask, her eyes sweeping over those small hands, which appeared incredibly delicate. She took a sip of water, caught her breath, and said, “Continue.”

Deep in the wild, only their group moved through the landscape, let alone any signs of birds or beasts.

After another hour of climbing, they reached a flat area. Amidst the snow, a bamboo hut suddenly appeared. Just looking at it from a distance, one could feel its chilling coldness, a testament to the fact that Xun Qi had not lived an easy life over these years.

A flicker of pity entered Yan Zhi’an’s eyes as she looked at Xun Qi.

Xun Qi stopped, waited for Yan Zhi’an to approach, and pointed to a small hill behind the bamboo hut. “That is the Madman’s grave.”

“Hmm,” Yan Zhi’an responded, the fatigue in her eyes dissipating. Xun Qi felt a bit of fear toward her. Standing two steps away, she peeked at her, but for a moment, she could not discern any emotion; she seemed like a wooden puppet, showing neither joy nor anger.

The winter wilderness was exceptionally cold. Upon entering the bamboo hut, a biting chill struck them, a cold even Yan Zhi’an found difficult to endure.

“I will go pack my things,” Xun Qi said before heading into the inner room.

The small bamboo hut was divided into three sections: the kitchen on the left, a main area with a table, chairs, and a reclining chair in the middle, and the bedroom on the far right.

There were two bamboo beds in the bedroom. Xun Qi walked over to her small bed and began fumbling around. Yan Zhi’an followed her in and scanned the room, noticing a row of small wooden figures on a bamboo cabinet.

The wooden figures were arranged by size, from a toddler learning to walk to a graceful young maiden, all carved with vivid, lifelike detail.

“Do you want to take these with you?” Yan Zhi’an reached out to touch the smallest wooden doll, her fingertips gently brushing its brows and eyes. She found herself smiling for no reason. She looked back at Xun Qi, who was kneeling on the bed, her waist hunched as she reached under it.

After digging for a while, she pulled out a wooden box. When she opened it, there were some copper coins inside, with papers layered beneath them.

Xun Qi said, “The Madman left these for me. The Madman said that if a woman wants to establish herself in this world, be it through needlework, calligraphy, painting, or cooking, she must have a trade to survive. She cannot rely solely on others.”

Hearing this, Yan Zhi’an felt it was true. Though women are soft, they should possess the ability to survive.

Xun Qi hugged the box and lifted her head again. Her small face was as pink and tender as an infant’s, as flawless as jade. Her solemn, serious expression made her look even more like the Empress.

Yan Zhi’an’s heart skipped a beat. The Empress, Sima Shenrong’s concern, was correct; if she grew any older, the members of the imperial clan would surely discover the truth.

“Take everything. Come back to pay your respects next spring.” Yan Zhi’an suppressed the worry in her eyes and looked up at the wooden figures on the cabinet. This “Madman” was indeed an extraordinary woman. However, what exactly happened back then? Was it the Empress or the Bright Emperor who arranged for Xun Qi to leave the palace?

The Empress had never spoken of it, and it was not her place to ask.

Xun Qi packed her belongings, took the wooden figures along, and then locked the bamboo hut with a single padlock.

By the time the group descended the mountain and returned to the Prime Minister’s residence, the moon was already climbing over the willow branches.

Yan Zhi’an took Xun Qi back to her room. Xun Qi would be staying in her quarters for the time being. After returning, she placed the wooden figures on the multi-tiered display shelf, clearing away the rare, precious antiques that the head of the house had placed there.

A maid stood by, quietly watching the crude movements. Several times, she wanted to remind her: “Young Master, these items are priceless treasures. The fact that the Master placed them here means they are rare wonders of the world.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but the Master stopped her, ordering instead, “Send these items to my room.”

The maid carefully moved the treasures out of the room. Once she left, Xun Qi placed her box under the bed. Seeing the box under the bed, she curiously pulled it out and opened it. Her eyes lit up. “So many pearls!”

“Do you like them?” Yan Zhi’an leaned over on the daybed, resting against a soft pillow, looking at her with a lazy posture.

Xun Qi picked up one of the fist-sized pearls and held it up to the lamplight. “It is so bright. I like it.”

“If you like it, take it. It is a gift for you.” Yan Zhi’an stretched her body, looking down to toy with a jade rabbit ornament on the small table. Her indifferent tone sounded somewhat cold. “If you do not want to light a lamp at night, just take this out.”

Xun Qi sat cross-legged and took out the pearls one by one, not forgetting to glance at her mother. The woman was languid and relaxed, which only accentuated her beauty—a skin like ice and flesh like jade.

It had to be said that this mother of hers was incredibly beautiful, as beautiful as a jade statue; it felt like a sacrilege for anyone to touch her.

She squinted and smiled, her heart fluttering. She lowered her head and continued to fiddle with the night-luminescent pearls.

After playing for a while, Yan Zhi’an stood up, her dress trailing on the floor. Xun Qi looked up.

The Left Prime Minister stood under the lamplight, her features cold and clear like the deep, misty fog of the mountains. When the sunlight hit her, the clouds dissipated, revealing a beauty as transparent and flawless as fine jade.

Xun Qi thought to herself: When beauty, power, and wealth are all tied together, what is left to be interesting? Because you hold the advantages of heaven and earth, you stand at the peak of the mountain, looking down upon the world with no rivals.

“Alright, play by yourself. We go to Jinling in three days. Prepare yourself early.”

After leaving that sentence behind, Yan Zhi’an turned and walked away. Xun Qi reached out and hugged the box. “So many night pearls.”

The Madman had said that the clearest things in heaven and earth are the most precious.

Three days later, the winter sun was bright and clear. Dozens of carriages were lined up at the gate of the Yan residence, stretching as far as the eye could see. The carriage in the center was extremely extravagant: a phoenix roof, pearl-adorned curtains, and jade screens.

Xun Qi blinked. Her mother was truly extravagant.

Her limbs felt stiff. Chen Qingrong walked out and approached her daughter. A sliver of sunlight fell upon Yan Zhi’an’s brows, making her face look dazzlingly radiant.

“I am telling you, do not argue with your grandfather. I know he cannot win an argument against you, but he is old, and this matter was your fault to begin with. Be patient. Zhi’an, when you go back, do not provoke them. You are all family; give them money if they want money, and only fall out if they want power.”

“And another thing, Xun Qi is timid. When you lose your temper, push her away; do not let her see it. You two have just met; you should pretend to be gentle for now.”

Xun Qi leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, tilting her head to watch this mother-daughter act.

Chen Qingrong offered earnest advice, but the moment she turned her head and saw the little girl standing there, she instinctively hid behind Yan Zhi’s. “She heard it.”

“It does not matter. She will have to pretend in the future as well, because those who do not pretend will die.” Yan Zhi’an was very calm and did not mind. Instead, she reached out to signal her to come closer. “Time to go.”

Xun Qi looked at her beautiful mother, let go of her arms, and trotted forward. Yan Zhi’an suddenly said, “I forgot to teach you how to bow. I will teach you tonight.”

Mother and daughter boarded the carriage. Chen Qingrong waved, smiling very happily. Xun Qi was puzzled. “Mother, why is that lady so happy?”

Mother? Yan Zhi’an’s gaze fell upon her small face, and she instinctively rubbed her own ears. Mother?

She suppressed her emotions and replied with her eyes closed: “Because she loves freedom.”

Her mother was the youngest daughter of the Chen family, doted upon by everyone, and later married into the Yan family. Her father was incredibly unreliable, a man of leisure who paid no mind to family affairs, playing and roaming with her mother daily for over a decade until a common cold took his life.

Later, her mother was widowed. Concerned for her, and unable to bear seeing her mother subjected to the tedious rules of the Yan family, Yan Zhi’an had personally brought her to the capital.

Her mother loved to eat, play, and have fun, but she hated managing affairs and even complained that Yan Zhi’an was too controlling. As soon as she left the capital, her mother became even freer.

Xun Qi was stunned and asked bluntly, “What is freedom?”

The wheels began to turn, and the carriage started to move. The interior began to sway. Yan Zhi’an slowly opened her eyes to look at her, considered her words carefully, and said, “Do not count on having that in this life.”

Xun Qi did not understand the meaning of these words. The Madman had not taught her; she did not know what freedom was.

“Mother, what is freedom?”

Yan Zhi’an withdrew her gaze, remained silent for two seconds, then smiled. Her tone was light and shallow: “It means doing whatever you want, walking wherever you please between heaven and earth.”

“Oh, will I not have it in the future?” Xun Qi wondered. With as much money as the Yan family had, could they not even buy freedom?

Yan Zhi’an reached out and tapped her smooth, full forehead. She remained silent, but her eyes held a hint of pity.

Power and freedom are inherently contradictory.

Xun Qi was tapped, feeling nothing odd, and asked, “Cannot money buy it?”

“I cannot answer that question for you. When you grow up, you will understand for yourself.” Yan Zhi’an could not answer this. Seeing that her hands were empty, she handed her own hand-warmer to her. “Hold this, do not catch a cold.”

Her voice was soft and her face looked like moonlight over the mountains, so much so that Xun Qi felt she was just being mysterious.

Money makes the mare go.

The carriage bumped along the road. After noon, Xun Qi yawned. Yan Zhi’an put down the book in her hand, opened a hidden compartment, and took out another book. “I will read to you.”

The book had been prepared days ago. She guessed Xun Qi would get drowsy, so she had prepared reading material to recite for her.

She flipped through the pages and began to read aloud in a clear voice.

In the quiet afternoon, Yan Zhi’an’s diction was precise. She was reading history books. Xun Qi rolled her eyes and yawned. “Can I sleep?”

Yan Zhi’an: “…”

“No.”

“What if I insist?”

Yan Zhi’an handed the book to her. “You read it to me. That way, you will not be sleepy anymore.”

Xun Qi looked at her in despair. “I do not see any maternal love in your eyes. Only the pity that flashes every now and then.” She felt that her mother treated her with a faint sense of detachment, treating her like a guest. She seemed approachable, but in reality, she was polite and distant.

“Hmm?” Yan Zhi’an reached out to touch her own eyes. It was her first time being a mother; she did not know what kind of look constituted “maternal love.”

For a moment, she was stumped.

What should I do?

Yan Zhi’an pondered for a moment, then silently reached out, pulled the little girl into her arms, and patted her back gently. “How about this?”