Chapter Twenty-Four: The Grand Ceremony of the Five Nations Alliance (Part Four)

After hearing the old man’s words, Gu Nanyuan took a deep breath and stood up as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, stepping directly across the seats. But no sooner had he taken his first step than he heard laughter from the crowd; only then did he notice that the other four had carefully skirted around to the back of the seats. His heart flushed with anger and shame, the mortification written plainly across his face and in his eyes.

Of course, this scene did not escape the eyes of the old man and the woman. There’s a saying: caution is the parent of safety. Yet Gu Nanyuan was naturally impatient; no matter how well he masked it before, sooner or later the fox’s tail would show. At that moment, the emperor of Baixi’s face had darkened to charcoal, and the empress looked as though she hated his inability to live up to expectations.

Among the Six Arts, etiquette was the most tedious and dull, but today, those present gained some insight. People gradually dispersed from the training grounds. Bai Cheng walked over to Bai Qingye, puzzled, and asked, “Why did the emperor of Baixi let the second prince take part in the Six Arts? Isn’t that like lifting a stone only to drop it on his own foot? No matter how much he favors him, he can’t make a mockery of the grand ceremony.”

Upon hearing this, Bai Qingye paused, put his finger to his lips, and replied quietly, “Brother, there are many ears about; take care not to invite trouble with careless words. I’ve heard a bit. The princes participating were chosen after a joint discussion between the Five Emperors and the Crown Prince. The second prince is the empress’s only son; his ability to represent the nation must have required her considerable effort.”

Bai Cheng nodded. “Makes sense. Let’s talk while we walk.”

Baixi had eleven princes in all, but the only one of extraordinary talent was Gu Qiuci, who had been sacrificed. The only other with any reputation was Gu Nanyuan. The rest were either young or born of concubines; though they held the title of prince, none were valued.

Thus, sending Gu Nanyuan was only natural.

...

That night, a light rain began to fall. Shen Xinan rested at a post station outside the palace. This post station had been specially built by the emperor of Baixi to welcome the grand alliance of the five nations, to host the princes and generals from each country. Its carved beams and painted pillars were splendid, second only to the palace itself.

The construction of the post station was meant to display Baixi’s wealth and to demonstrate the host’s warmth and sincerity to its guests.

Outside the window, rain pattered against banana leaves with a clear, musical sound. The cool wind rustled gently.

Shen Xinan closed his eyes and stood by the window, listening quietly to the rain tapping in the vast sky above. A sense of loneliness crept into his heart.

The world was vast, the mountains and rivers beautiful; his future was secure. Yet his heart always felt as if something was missing.

Had he overlooked something more important? For example, why had his beloved younger sister suddenly given herself to Zhanghua Pool? What had she seen that night in the Wanxu Pavilion?

And then...

As Shen Xinan was lost in thought, footsteps suddenly echoed in his ears.

He opened his eyes and saw a man approaching his door, holding a sky-blue oilpaper umbrella. Judging by his figure, it was clear this was Mu Chengyan.

Shen Xinan now looked upon him with new respect.

Mu Chengyan walked up to the eaves, leaned his folded umbrella against the wall, and tidied the slightly messy hair at the back of his head. Just as he raised his hand to knock, the door opened from inside.

Seeing Shen Xinan himself open the door, Mu Chengyan scratched his ear and thought to himself, “Could it be a shared sense of understanding?”

He smiled, “Second Prince.”

The ambiguous twilight was neither bright nor dark, but his smile seemed to light it up in an instant.

“Come in,” Shen Xinan said calmly, seeing his cheeky expression.

“Alright.”

Inside, neither sat down; Mu Chengyan joined Shen Xinan at the window, chatting idly as they listened to the rain.

Shen Xinan spoke, “You truly have a knack for predicting things.”

Mu Chengyan, facing the interior and leaning against the windowsill, thought for a moment and shrugged, laughing, “Is the Second Prince referring to today’s examination?”

“What else?” Shen Xinan rolled his eyes without hiding his annoyance.

Mu Chengyan was unconcerned. “Eh, I’m just a scholar from a backwater village. I’ve never really studied these matters in depth.”

His words were casual, but Shen Xinan was struck by them. “Never studied them? Then how did you know the old man’s examination topic today?”

Thinking it over, Shen Xinan realized that thanks to Mu Chengyan’s hints the day before, he had been able to behave appropriately in the assessment, earning the old man’s praise.

If he hadn’t studied, how could he have been so successful?

When the Minister of Rites announced the subject, Shen Xinan was indeed surprised, for it was exactly as Mu Chengyan had said.

That was why he had glanced at Mu Chengyan on the training grounds. At first, he thought this scholar was useless, nothing more than an ornament. Now, he saw him as a rare strategist.

Such a person was truly hard to find, so Shen Xinan’s attitude toward Mu Chengyan improved greatly.

Mu Chengyan laughed nervously, his smile somewhat forced. “It has nothing to do with me. It was that mysterious masked man who told me what to say. I’m just passing on his words. Besides, I can’t accept such high praise for no merit.”

Yet he did not say this aloud. Experience had shown that some things were better left submerged than brought to the surface.

“None of this matters. I just guessed it, guessed it, guessed it,” Mu Chengyan said, mimicking a Taoist’s finger-counting act, while squinting at Shen Xinan when he thought he wasn’t paying attention.

Shen Xinan half believed him; such a simple, misleading explanation coming from Mu Chengyan seemed oddly credible.

Suddenly, a blinding flash of lightning and a deafening thunderclap startled Mu Chengyan into a shriek.

He nimbly darted behind Shen Xinan. “What kind of fiend is crossing the tribulation? The commotion is enormous! Amitabha, Amitabha!”

Seeing him act so absurdly and speak so wildly, Shen Xinan couldn’t help but laugh.

In the next instant, Shen Xinan’s expression darkened. This familiar scene pricked every nerve in his body.

Shen Xi’er had always been terrified of thunder, always hiding behind him or burrowing into his arms, sobbing.

For a fleeting moment, he felt as if the person chanting “Amitabha” behind him was his sister.

His expression tightened. He sat at the table, his hand under his sleeve clenching slightly.

Mu Chengyan followed, sitting down and patting his chest as he solemnly explained his earlier behavior, “Actually, I’m not afraid of thunder and lightning. Truly.”

Seeing Shen Xinan silently pour him a cup of tea, he continued boastfully, “There’s nothing in this world I fear. Just look at who I am…”

“What brings you here?” Shen Xinan looked at him.

“Oh, right. I almost forgot the main thing. Tomorrow…”

Mu Chengyan covered his mouth and whispered.

Outside, the rain continued through the night, and inside, the candlelight burned for several hours.