Lighting a Lantern at Your Brow - Chapter 5

Upon returning to the Magistrate’s Office, Yun Xi saw Zhang Huailu escorting Minister Pei and Lord Luo out through the front gates from a distance.

She knew that Minister Pei likely had no desire to see her, his unmarried future daughter-in-law, so she chose to stand quietly at the entrance of the alley, waiting.

She stopped. And so did Cheng Chang’s carriage.

The two servants driving the carriage assumed that some foolhardy commoner had dared to block the Young Prince’s path. Rolling up their sleeves, they immediately went looking for trouble, eager to pick a fight. Yun Xi tried to stop them, but to no avail.

Inside the carriage, Cheng Chang sat alone, listening to the commotion outside. His head throbbed. He shut his eyes in resignation.

Yun Xi lifted her gaze. Standing beside Lord Luo was a young woman, dressed in a flowing pink-and-white gauze gown, her figure graceful and poised—like a delicate pear blossom in spring. Yun Xi stared at her for a long moment before finally recognizing her. It was her distant cousin, Luo Shu.

Minister Pei and the others continued their conversation, suddenly breaking into carefree laughter.

A faint flush of red bloomed on Luo Shu’s cheeks. As if by chance, she turned her head toward the entrance of the alley. The moment she saw Yun Xi, she called out to her.

At the sound of Luo Shu’s voice, the others in the group turned their heads. The smiles on their faces gradually faded.

It was as if her presence had disrupted something.

A moment later, Zhang Huailu hurriedly led Minister Pei and Lord Luo away, leaving without further acknowledgment. But Luo Shu stayed behind. Lifting the hem of her dress, she quickly walked toward Yun Xi, clasping her hand with affectionate familiarity. “Ah Ting.”

Ah Ting was Yun Xi’s courtesy name.

Yun Xi asked, “What brings you to the Magistrate’s Office?”

Luo Shu smiled softly, answering, “Father fell ill this morning and forgot to take his medicine, so I brought him his medicine.” Then, she added gently, “Ah Ting, do you know that Pei Er-Ge will be returning to Jinling in just a few days?”

Yun Xi simply responded with a quiet “Mm.”

Luo Shu’s voice remained soft, coaxing. “It has been years since the three of us have gathered together. When Pei Er-Ge returns, why don’t you speak to him and arrange a day for us to reunite, just like old times?”

Yun Xi fell silent at these words.

She had grown up in the northern frontier, and in her childhood, Pei Lan, Luo Shu, and herself had been inseparable. At the time, Yun Xi’s father, Yun Shuguang, was the Marquis of Zhongyong, stationed at Jialiang Pass, defending the border. Pei Lan’s father was the local prefect, and Luo Shu’s father served under Yun Shuguang as a commander.

The three families had been close, whether through old friendships, political ties, or blood relations. Naturally, the children grew up together.

Yun Xi and Pei Lan’s marriage had been arranged since birth. She had always known that one day, she would become his wife, and so she had trained herself to love him—though not in the way of passionate love, at the very least, it was a bond as deep as siblings.

In their youth, Pei Lan had genuinely cared for her. Among the hundred-odd boys in the military camp, if anyone dared bully little Yun Xi, he would always stand up for her. During the harsh winters, if she craved candied fruit, he would ride through the night to the nearest town just to buy it for her. He was meticulous, diligent, and both talented and kind-hearted. Every year, without fail, he crafted a new handwarmer for her in winter and a bamboo fan for summer. Eventually, Luo Shu had grown envious and once asked, “Pei Er-Ge, could you make one for Shu’er too?”

Yun Xi had always been someone who repaid kindness tenfold. If someone treated her well, she would return it threefold. If someone treated her with five parts kindness, she would want to return ten.

Later, when Pei Lan’s father was promoted to the Ministry of Works, the entire family relocated to Jinling. A young Yun Xi had ridden alone, chasing after their departing convoy for thirty miles before finally watching them disappear into the distance.

It had been three years since Pei Ming entered the Ministry of Works before he secured his position as Minister. Later, recalling Luo Shu’s father’s literary talents, he recommended him for a position in the Secretariat.

All of this had happened before the fall of the Marquis of Zhongyong’s family.

In truth, the downfall happened in less than two years. When the barbarian forces invaded the Tagger Grasslands, Yun Shuguang led the troops into battle and died on the battlefield. When news reached the capital, someone accused him of reckless ambition and seeking undeserved merit. At court, opinions were divided, and the emperor, seated upon the Dragon Throne, was not immune to biased whispers.

According to the law, a marquis’ title should be passed down from father to son. Yet, not only did Emperor Zhaoyuan refuse to allow Yun Luo, who had fought countless battles, to inherit the title, he instead sent him to war as a mere deputy general under General Zhaoyuan.

The result? Zhaoyuan defected. The battle in Tagger Grasslands was a devastating loss. Pei Lan had to lead the troops to their rescue.

The Marquis of Zhongyong’s family had once been granted land for a thousand households, but decades of hardship had left them struggling. Through years of droughts and floods, Yun Xi’s grandfather had long returned those lands to the imperial treasury, believing that the family could survive on their government stipend alone.

But now, Yun Luo was gone too. That stipend, once meant for a marquis, was now just a bitter, burning ember in her hands.

Alone, Yun Xi drove a cart from the northern frontier to Jinling, carrying Yun Luo’s coffin home. On that day, the rain fell ceaselessly over the capital.

A hero had died on the battlefield, returning in death. And yet, aside from Yun Luo’s widow, Madam Fang, not a single soul had come to greet them.

Halfway through the streets, the sound of galloping hooves suddenly rang out. Yun Xi pulled the reins urgently, but there was nowhere to dodge. In an instant, her cart collided head-on with a speeding carriage.

The impact tipped the cart over, knocking Yun Luo’s coffin to the side. Though Yun Xi herself was unscathed, the coffin lid had been thrown open, exposing his charred remains.

The body was burned beyond recognition, leaving only a single arm intact. When Zhaoyuan betrayed them, the barbarians had set fire to the Taggger battlefield, reducing countless Sui soldiers to ash. Pei Lan had only been able to identify Yun Luo’s remains by the birthmark on that surviving arm.

From the opposite carriage, a man stepped down. The first thing he did was wrinkle his nose in disgust, lifting a sleeve to cover it. “What is that stench?”

Yun Xi looked up. It was Cheng Chang.

He was clearly intoxicated, his breath reeked of alcohol, and he staggered forward, squinting at Yun Luo’s remains. Then, with a loud laugh, he sneered, “What kind of monster is this? Hideous! What an eyesore!”

His servants laughed along with him.

The surrounding streets were full of people—even court officials were among them. But who among them dared to offend the Third Young Master of Prince Cong’s Manor?

Besides, rumors had long spread that Zhaoyuan had defected; that Yun Luo had been with him; that the reason the war had been lost was because of Yun Shuguang’s reckless ambition. Who was to say the father and son weren’t traitors alike?

And not a single soul stepped forward to defend them. Not even Pei Ming or Luo Fuyou, who had once called the Marquis of Zhongyong a dear friend. Perhaps they feared being implicated themselves.

As Cheng Chang mocked her brother’s corpse, Yun Xi’s rage surged. She gripped the dagger at her waist, ready to settle the debt then and there. But Madam Fang caught her arm, holding her back.

With tears in her eyes, she shook her head.

And Yun Xi understood. They could not afford to offend Prince Cong’s Manor. And more importantly, if they did, they might not even be able to keep Yun Luo’s body intact.

As Yun Xi slowly, inch by inch, placed Yun Luo’s corpse back into the coffin, she finally understood. Friendships fade. Glory erodes. Day after day, what once stood firm is worn away by time, until all that remains is a wisp of dust in the winds of history—gone with a single breath.

And in the end, the only thing she could truly rely on were her own two hands.

That year, rumors of Yun Luo’s alleged betrayal spread like wildfire through the imperial court. Emperor Zhaoyuan had already decided to conduct a trial, but in the end, it was Prince Cong who advised against it. “Regardless, Zhaoyuan has already defected, and the court has provided the soldiers with an explanation. Yun Luo had gone to war without inheriting the title—if we put him on trial, we would inevitably have to investigate the entire Marquis of Zhongyong’s household. The war in the Tagger Grasslands is far from over; if this case grows too large, it will only unsettle the military’s morale. It’s best to suppress the matter… and wait until General Pei returns victorious before addressing it.”

Perhaps it was because Cheng Chang had overturned Yun Luo’s coffin that Prince Cong decided to show the Marquis of Zhongyong’s family a rare act of mercy. And it was because of those very words that Yun Luo was finally allowed a proper burial.

…

“Ah Ting?” Luo Shu called out softly when Yun Xi remained silent for too long.

Yun Xi snapped back to reality, having long since forgotten what they had been talking about. “What did you say?”

“Look at you.” Luo Shu giggled behind her sleeve, teasing, “Could it be that you’re so overjoyed about Pei Er-Ge’s return that you’ve gone dumb from excitement?” She then studied Yun Xi’s expression carefully, lowering her voice, “Ah Ting, my father told me that once Pei Er-Ge returns to the capital, your wedding will be arranged soon. Is that true?”

Before Yun Xi could respond, the two servants who had gone looking for trouble earlier returned, each holding a sparrow upside-down by the legs. Beaming with self-satisfaction, they turned toward the carriage, announcing, “Young Prince! The alleys near the Magistrate’s Office were empty, save for these two noisy little birds. We feared they might disturb your rest, so we captured their leaders. Would you like us to execute them on the spot?”

The carriage curtain lifted slightly. A dead-eyed Cheng Chang peeked out, his expression utterly drained of life. “…Spare them.”

“Understood!” The servants instantly obeyed, loosening their grip. The two sparrows flapped their wings wildly and shot into the sky.

The servants then grinned eagerly and said, “Young Prince, your generosity knows no bounds! You are truly noble and magnanimous!”

Cheng Chang, meanwhile, had spent the entire journey reflecting on his life choices. He had come to a terrible realization. The original Cheng Chang he had replaced was no mere spoiled aristocrat. By modern standards, the man couldn’t even be considered a person. Everywhere in Jinling, there were trails of his misdeeds. Extortion, picking fights, organizing street brawls… these were just casual hobbies for him. Who knew if he had also committed murder, arson, or even kidnapped innocent women?

Cheng Chang felt like he was walking through a minefield, his body and soul were both suffering severe emotional damage.

The two servants leaned in conspiratorially, their voices lowered in excitement. “Young Prince, before we arrived at Drunken Fragrance Pavilion, we sent word back to the manor. We’ve already had someone bring your things here, to help cleanse you of this morning’s misfortune.”

Cheng Chang felt like he was teetering on the edge of a breakdown. “…What things?”

The servants helped him down from the carriage but dodged his question entirely. “It’s already been placed inside the Magistrate’s Office, waiting for you.”