HCAW 55

Chapter 55: A Buried Name, Bones Laid to Rest

My brother is dead?

For a moment, it was as if thunder struck under a clear sky. Fang Jingyu stood frozen in silence, then hurriedly protested, “But… but…”

Ruyi Guard’s eyes were kind, her smile like a spring breeze. “Your Highness, did you not personally see Fang Minsheng’s corpse eight years ago?”

Fang Jingyu’s soul seemed to slip from his body.

His brother was dead—he was merely chasing ghosts. Eight years ago, at the Fang estate, he had seen Xian Moutain officials return with a rotting corpse. Because the face had decayed beyond recognition, he’d held onto a sliver of hope, praying it wasn’t really Fang Minsheng. But then he’d seen the jade thumb ring on the corpse’s hand—and all his hopes had shattered.

That jade ring had been a birthday gift from him to his brother. His brother once promised never to part with it. Imposter corpses often wore fake clothes—but rarely carried such personal trinkets. That Fang Minsheng had still kept the ring even after enduring endless torment showed just how much he valued it. He would never let it go easily.

Yet the ring had been on that corpse. Most likely, Fang Minsheng had truly perished.

“Why… how do you know about this?” Fang Jingyu asked, losing his composure, his face flushed red. Even Zheng Deli at his side was taken aback. Fang Jingyu ground his teeth. “You weren’t even in Penglai at the time! You were in Yingzhou—you couldn’t have seen it yourself, so how could you know? Unless you are—”

The words “spouting lies” nearly escaped his lips. But Fang Jingyu suddenly fell silent.

Ruyi Guard merely smiled. “This old one can hear the voices of the immortals. Nothing that happens in the Xian Mountains escapes my ears. Compared to me, Your Highness is the one who saw Fang Minsheng’s body with your own eyes. Since that’s the case, why won’t you believe he’s dead?”

Can hear the voices of the immortals… Those words sent Fang Jingyu deep into thought. Could Ruyi Guard’s ability to perceive past and future truly stem from the Immortal Elixir, from the divine power of ‘Immortal Yonghe’?

“I…” Fang Jingyu faltered for a long while. “Recently… I met someone who looked just like him.”

“Does Your Highness believe that mere resemblance means the person is your brother? One kind of mushroom is edible, the other deadly poison. Would Your Highness say they’re the same just because they look alike?”

Fang Jingyu’s heart trembled. Though Chu Kuang’s face closely resembled the young Fang Minsheng’s, there was no proof they were the same person. His brother was a master swordsman; Chu Kuang could barely wield a blade. His brother was refined and noble as an orchid or jade; Chu Kuang was coarse and vulgar beyond measure.

“I don’t believe your divination,” Fang Jingyu said, clenching his fists tightly. He wasn’t even sure why he was being so stubborn. He himself didn’t believe Chu Kuang could be his brother.

“Jingyu!” Zheng Deli quickly tugged his sleeve, afraid of offending Ruyi Guard.

But Ruyi Guard merely smiled. “It is no matter. Your Highness, have you ever heard a legend from the Nine Provinces? When King Wu of Zhou fought against King Zhou of Shang, he drew a terrible omen. But Jiang Ziya cast the stalks and burned the tortoise shell, saying: ‘Dead bones and dry grass—what do they know of ill fortune?’¹“Battle of Muye” (牧野之战). Whether you believe this old one’s reading is entirely your own choice.”

She rose and fetched several more bone pieces from the redwood shelf, handing them to Zheng Deli, saying they were historical records left behind in Yingzhou, for them to study. Seeing her treat them so generously, both young men felt a little ashamed and offered their deep thanks. Just as they were about to leave, Zheng Deli turned back.

“There is one more question I’d like to ask. I wonder if Lady Ruyi would be willing to enlighten me?”

The old woman nodded.

“It’s about that ‘Peach Source’ you mentioned earlier. Is it connected to the ‘Taoyuan Stone’ that the former emperor brought back from beyond Penglai to build the gates of the frontier?”

The old woman smiled. “Young Master Zheng is indeed sharp. The Taoyuan Stone is indeed a wondrous stone. The former emperor drained Penglai of all its resources and spent a fortune dredging the Ming Sea, only to obtain a few pieces.”

She slowly closed her eyes. “Let this old one share another tale, then. Returning to the story of the Peach Blossom Source in Wuling: there was a scholar named Tao Qian in the Nine Provinces who wrote this travelogue, making the name ‘Peach Source’ known across the world. In his writing, he said the people of the Peach Source ‘knew not of Han, let alone Wei or Jin.’ Those were the names of dynasties in the Nine Provinces. He meant that the people there lived in the mountains and didn’t know of changes in the world.”

“That makes sense—they were isolated from the world, so of course they didn’t know.”

“No, Young Master Zheng. Have you considered—perhaps they didn’t know the current dynasty because they weren’t part of it?” The old woman smiled. “Because they lived in a previous dynasty.”

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. Thunder rumbled down into the sea, sending waves crashing and frothing. The two young men broke out in goosebumps. Zheng Deli asked, “What… what do you mean?”

“The fisherman in Wuling passed through a cave at the end of the peach grove and entered the Peach Source. But the Peach Source he entered wasn’t part of the Eastern Jin. He crossed time—and arrived in the past. The people of the Peach Source ‘did not know of Han’ because they had never lived through it.”

In the lightning’s pale glow, the old woman’s face looked ghostly white, chilling both of them to the bone. Their minds were tangled in countless racing thoughts. Ruyi Guard sighed softly:

“The stone he passed through—that cave’s rock—is what we now call Taoyuan Stone. Perhaps to pass through it is to pass through time. If gates are forged from Taoyuan Stone… perhaps they can lead to the past, a place untouched by storm and snow. What the former emperor Ji Zhi sought—that was it.”

Utter madness!

Zheng Deli and Fang Jingyu stared at each other in disbelief, nearly dropping their jaws. They had seen the Taoyuan Gate at the frontier themselves—the stone looked no different from any other rock. Passing through it would take one to the past? That was sheer fantasy!

“Impossible!” Zheng Deli exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “We passed through the Taoyuan Gate when we left the frontier, and nothing happened! Beyond the gate wasn’t the past—it was the Ming Sea! We sailed across it and arrived here ourselves!”

“The Nine Provinces, the Wuling Peach Source, the Taoyuan Stone—all of these are just legends. Whether they are true, no one can say. Even one such as myself, who has consumed Immortal Elixir, cannot claim to understand them.” Ruyi Guard shook her head with a smile. “There is one theory, though—that the Taoyuan Stone is the very foundation of the Xian Mountains: the bones of the Ao fish. The ‘Immortal Yonghe’s’ power accumulates within it, endlessly. That is why the late Emperor desired it and ordered it dredged up from the Ming Sea. Yet in doing so, he exhausted the empire’s coffers, sparked immense public resentment, and earned himself the title of tyrant.”

The old woman sighed. “Whether the Taoyuan Stone truly allows one to pass through it and travel through time, whether the gate at the frontier was indeed forged by Emperor Bai from such stone, many have sought the answer. But all met with misfortune—either rejected by the Xian Mountains or vanished without a trace. Today, a Taoyuan Gate still stands atop Qingyu Gao Moutain, guarded heavily. For the common man, it’s become a riddle without a key. And yet, this old one believes the legend must have some foundation.”

She stood and motioned for Fang Jingyu and Zheng Deli to gather around the table. The maid stepped inside as well, closed the door behind her, and stood silently at their side. Her eyes were dark and bottomless, with more black than white—like two ancient, sunless wells. Ruyi Guard took a small box from the wooden shelf, opened it, and withdrew a black stone bracelet—dense and opaque as frozen night.

“This is a bracelet crafted from Taoyuan Stone,” she said, and then took out a three-legged vessel filled with ashes. Tilting the vessel, the ashes spilled through the center of the bracelet.

And something miraculous happened: when she reached her fingers through the bracelet and pinched some ashes, what she pulled out and laid in her palm had become wood shavings. Yet when the bracelet was removed, they remained just ashes. Passing through the stone, their true form was revealed.

The two young men were dumbfounded.

“To pass through the Taoyuan Gate may indeed be to return to the past,” the old woman said softly. “The late Emperor may have been right. Yet for reasons unknown, the records say that after forging the gate, he told his closest ministers that he had used Taoyuan Stone only for its durability. He tested it many times—but never once saw the effects described in legend. Perhaps it was a matter of direction, weather, celestial alignment, timing, size, or weight. This old one still cannot say. I only know that in forging the gate, he stirred heaven and earth—but in the end, it did not stop the storms from breaching Penglai.”

Fang Jingyu and Zheng Deli listened, stunned to the core. Since stepping aboard the Fenglin ship, they had seen many inexplicable things. After a long silence, Zheng Deli asked again, but the old woman shook her head. She no longer had answers.

They both bowed again in thanks, a strange daze washing over them. Just as Zheng Deli was turning to leave, Fang Jingyu suddenly asked:

“If you don’t know… then what of Ruyi Guard herself? Would she know more about the Taoyuan Stone?”

Zheng Deli froze. The old woman was quiet for a moment, then smiled. “Your Highness, I am Ruyi Guard.”

“No, you’re not,” Fang Jingyu replied, shaking his head. “You’re merely her servant, aren’t you?”

He turned his gaze like a drawn arrow to the corner of the room, where the little girl stood. Her face was pale, her pupils inky black, like a deep and ancient pool. Fang Jingyu said:

“During the divination, during your responses to our questions—you were gesturing with your hands. Your shadow reflected in the mirror by the door. This old woman merely watched your cues and repeated them aloud.”

He stared directly at her. “You are Ruyi Guard.”

Silence fell, thick and absolute.

It was as if the wind had stilled and time itself had frozen. Zheng Deli stood dumbstruck, his gaze fixed on the girl. She wore a vivid red Guanyin hood with two pointed tips like tiger ears. Her face was pale as snow, dainty and lovely—anyone would take her for a child just past schooling age. But Fang Jingyu had just said—she was the sixth-ranked of the Xian Mountain Guards, Ruyi Guard!

“T-This is impossible…” Zheng Deli murmured, but quickly fell silent. Why impossible? Today they had already heard of the Nine Provinces and the Taoyuan Stone. The Xian Mountains still harbored countless secrets—perhaps far beyond their imagination.

Suddenly, a cold and eerie laugh rang out. Had Zheng Deli not seen it for himself, he would have thought his ears deceived him. It was the little girl laughing—her voice youthful, yet steeped in the desolate weariness of wind and frost.

When the laughter faded, her eyes grew serene, and she nodded.

“That’s right. I am Ruyi Guard.”

She raised her head and looked at Fang Jingyu. “Your Highness is sharp as frost and snow—able to see through this old one disguise.” She referred to herself as “this old one,” and that aged tone clashed starkly with her young face. The old woman beside them smiled faintly and stood from her chair, bowing with her hands respectfully folded at her side.

Zheng Deli was utterly shocked. “But why… why disguise yourself like this?”

The girl gave a huff. “Because most people in this world are fools! The moment they see this appearance, they underestimate me—throwing New Year coins at me like I’m some beggar! It’s infuriating! I’m older than their great-grandfathers!”

Now that she’d been unmasked, she shed all pretense—sharp-tongued and proud, her arrogance shining through. She swaggered over to the redwood chair, plopped herself down, crossed her legs like a tiny tyrant, and declared:

“Fine. Since you’ve seen through me, I shall show mercy and allow you a few more questions.”

Zheng Deli was still reeling from shock, but Fang Jingyu nudged his elbow, signaling that he should take this rare chance to ask. Zheng Deli nodded and began asking further questions about the ancient script of Yingzhou. This time, the girl answered freely—every question met with a sharp and precise reply. What astonished them both was that, despite her slight frame, her knowledge was vast as an ocean.

At last, Fang Jingyu frowned and asked, “Lady Ruyi Guard, I heard you were the finest archer among the Xian Mountain Guards, but you…”

She was barely as tall as a bean sprout—how could she possibly draw a bow? He swallowed the rest of his words.

The little girl huffed in anger, as though she’d guessed exactly what he meant, and stamped her foot. “Insolent brat!” But remembering he was the son of Emperor Bai, she corrected her tone with a forced politeness. “Br—Your Highness, this old one took Immortal Elixir, which is why I ended up in this stunted form. In my youth, I was fearsome and mighty—able to fight ten thousand men alone!”

She hopped down from the redwood chair and ordered the old woman to bring out a long lacquered box. From it, she took a bow made of fine purple yew, its limbs reinforced with horn and deer glue, inlaid with gold and silver that shimmered with a dazzling glow. She cradled the bow and grinned mischievously. “Don’t let my looks fool you—back then, I had strength like a tiger! If Your Highness can draw this bow, I’ll gift you a few ‘Jin Pugu’ arrows. These divine arrows are coveted even by the Tianfu Guard—one costs a hundred taels of gold to make.”

Fang Jingyu had no intent of bartering arrows for money, but knowing that Chu Kuang loved archery, and curious himself about these famed arrows, he nodded.

The girl then had the old woman bring forth a large enamel box, secured with a strange lock—no keyhole, only a groove. It was smooth and bone-like in texture.

She grinned and said, “This is a ‘Blood-Bait Lock’. You’ve heard of the Bone-Drip Method, haven’t you? This lock is crafted from the owner’s own bone, and only blood of the owner or their kin can open it. After we Xian Mountain Guards receive Immortal Elixir, we often carve bits of bone to let the National Preceptor forge these. They’re rare indeed.”

She bit her fingertip and let a drop of blood fall into the groove. The lock clicked open. The two young men watched in awe, though after today’s parade of oddities, they weren’t quite as shocked anymore.

Inside was a lotus pouch, its contents unknown but fragrant, and a row of golden arrows laid side by side. Forged from fine gold, they gleamed like radiant suns—dazzling and fierce, as if their light alone might scorch the skin.

The little Ruyi Guard stood with hands on her hips and said, “Your Highness, care to try? If you can’t draw this bow, it means even now you’re no match for my younger self! Don’t ever look down on this old one again!”

With her hopping and puffing, she looked as mischievous as she was small. Fang Jingyu and Zheng Deli could barely stifle their laughter. Fang Jingyu nodded. “I’ll try.” He stepped forward and took the massive curved bow.

The moment he held it, his wrist sank under the weight. Though not as heavy as the Vipashiyin Blade, this bow felt like it carried the weight of a mountain. Military war bows typically topped out at five-stone draw weight, but this felt like several eight-stone bows stacked together.

He took a deep breath, planted his feet, and flexed his arms. The bow’s dragon-bone spine groaned and hissed as he pulled. His shoulders, waist, and arms trembled with effort—just like that moment back at Zhenhai Pass, when he drew the Vipashiyin Blade from the stone.

The bow was heavy beyond belief—like one made to measure a man’s strength. He only managed to draw it for a breath before it snapped back like a coiled dragon, erupting with a thunderous crack. When he turned, his palms were trembling, and sweat drenched his back.

The little girl cackled with delight. “See? Your Highness still can’t best the old me!”

She gleefully retrieved the bow and stood with hands on hips again, mock-stern. “It’s nothing to fret over. Just a little setback. If you stay in Yingzhou a few more days and want to try again, I’ll be happy to let you!”

After Fang Jingyu and Zheng Deli left, the little girl collapsed back onto her redwood chair with a long sigh, pounding her legs with tiny fists like an old woman with rheumatism. “Old… I’m really old! Just meeting a few people wore me out!”

The old woman beside her smiled and asked, “Lady Ruyi Guard, I too have something to ask.”

The girl waved her hand. “Speak. This old one’s in a good mood today—I’ll say whatever you want to hear.”

“I’ve heard the name ‘Fang Minsheng’ before. You said someone came to see you eight years ago, claiming to have taken that child in. That boy must go by a different name now, right? Then why did you just tell His Highness that Fang Minsheng is dead?”

The girl let out a long sigh. “You only know half the story. No harm in telling you the rest now. I was entrusted by that person—not to reveal that Fang Minsheng is still alive, lest it bring calamity upon him.”

“But now that His Highness has crossed the Heavenly Pass, surely there’s no harm in telling him?”

“No. Even without our intervention, if that boy is still alive, he would never tell His Highness he is Fang Minsheng.”

“Why not?”

“Because Fang Minsheng is the soft spot of the son of Emperor Bai. And he would never allow himself to become His Highness’s weakness.”

She sighed once more, her pitch-black eyes gazing out the cabin window. Though outside the waves crashed and wind howled, her gaze was calm as buried sand beneath still waters—beyond all worldly noise.

“For that reason, he will bury his name and his bones—never to speak again, even unto death.”

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  “Battle of Muye” (牧野之战).