Chapter 39#

Fengbing promptly turned his head away in haste.#

Li Fengyan guessed he didn’t want to hear it, but this matter had been pent up in his chest for far too long. Even if only for his own peace of mind, he had to speak it out.

“I sent people to look for you,” Fengyan said. “By then I was about to depart. The Shence Army was arresting people all over the capital, and my men didn’t dare roam about, so they waited for you at the Wang residence. But you went to Daming Palace instead, didn’t you?”

Yes, he had gone to Daming Palace. Fengbing kept silent.

Most of the servants in the residence had been thrown into prison, and then he heard that his father the Emperor had fallen ill. Unable to make sense of it, he barged straight into Daming Palace. Even if only to visit his father — he knew he was being reckless, but he hadn’t expected that he wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near his father’s Qingsi Hall. He was apprehended by the Shence Army right at the Zichen Gate by the third inner wall of the palace.

A headache came on, a buzzing in his skull. Five years now, and he had never wanted to recall that flash of disaster — the humiliating kowtows, the desperate screams, the sternly shut Zichen Gate. From that day onward he never saw his father again, until his own exile to Langzhou and his father’s death upon the throne.

“My men waited at the Wang residence for two days. You didn’t show up, so they came back,” Li Fengyan said softly. “I… I was a coward. My mother was also at Lishan. Although Pei Dan and I were somewhat friendly, I was afraid, after all. Moreover, at that time, Pei Dan was only a Secretary Director. He had received a secret decree from our father to investigate the treason case — the risk was enormous. To put it bluntly, who knew how many more days he would live? Who knew how many more days I would live? I could only protect myself and leave Chang’an first, always hoping you might have found some other place to go. But who could have guessed that by the time I had settled at Lishan, I heard you’d already been thrown into the imperial prison.”

“This matter has weighed on my heart ever since… I feel very guilty.” Li Fengyan’s voice grew increasingly low and suppressed. “I certainly hoped you would understand me, but I did let down Pei Dan’s trust. And afterward, I couldn’t think of any way to save you. In the end, I was implicated in the disaster…”

“Third Brother is the most filial of sons toward our mother. How could I blame you?” Fengbing said with a faint curl of his lips, his tone calm. His words were from the heart. In those days of chaos in Chang’an, everyone was fighting for their own survival — how could he blame others for not saving him? Li Fengyan looked at him, as though he still wanted to say something, but stopped short.

Fengbing gazed out at the vast sky beyond the pagoda, his face white as glazed glass, snow clouds reflected in his eyes. “You said Pei Dan received a secret decree from our father to investigate the treason case? All I knew was that he once led troops to surround the Shaofu Academy…”

Li Fengyan said, “He led the Shence Army to surround the Shaofu Academy on imperial order. The Crown Prince was committing treason. Pei Dan reacted swiftly enough, but his rank was low and he was young — he nearly couldn’t hold the situation together. It was Second Brother who came out from the Wang residence to help him.”

The Shaofu Academy lay at the edge of the Ten Princes’ Residences, the grandest mansion closest to Daming Palace, traditionally the Crown Prince’s dwelling. When disaster erupted at the Shaofu Academy, the clamor carried into the Ten Princes’ Residences, shattering the sweet dreams of the imperial princes and grandsons. They peered about in every direction, terrified and panic-stricken. Fengbing didn’t have the energy for that, but he listened as Chunshi reported the battle situation outside, sentence after sentence — until eventually, it was no longer Pei Dan commanding, but Second Brother.

Among the thousands of imperial clan members in Chang’an, all cowering at home, only Second Brother — the one who looked closest to the throne — stepped forward, braving the crime of the gravest disloyalty, seizing this opportunity that had fallen from the sky.

“I was too slow to understand,” Fengbing said with a bitter smile. “I didn’t go to Pei Dan to plead until my own household members were being taken away one by one…”

Li Fengyan was surprised. “You went to find Pei Dan?”

Fengbing nodded lightly. “I went to the Secretariat to find Pei Dan. I couldn’t find him, so I waited three days and three nights. In the end, I had no choice but to go to Daming Palace.”

Li Fengyan frowned. At that time, nearly all inner and outer government offices had been paralyzed. Officials feared for their lives from day to day. The Secretariat was probably completely empty.

“The Crown Prince was killed, Chang’an ran with blood, our father fell gravely ill. By that point, Pei Dan couldn’t manage anything anymore,” he said. “The details of why, I’m not entirely clear. It seems he was injured, and Second Brother took over the Shence Army and seized full authority over the investigation — so really, you might as well have gone to Second Brother.”

Fengbing was taken aback, as though only now understanding. Yes, he should have gone to Second Brother — but why had he gone to Pei Dan instead? Perhaps he had believed that Pei Dan would be willing to help him. They had been together for three years; Pei Dan had never once refused him —

Even though they had divorced, it had only been half a month. After waiting three days and three nights outside the Secretariat, he still couldn’t bring himself to believe that Pei Dan had truly abandoned him. Unable to wait for Pei Dan any longer, he finally went to seek his father — only to run into the Shence Army, and to miss the men Fengyan had sent to fetch him.

Fengbing reflected at length, then said softly, “Back then, how were you able to just walk away? I heard our father was ill, and I kept thinking…”

“Not leave? Was I supposed to wait for them to come arrest me?” Li Fengyan’s eyes flew wide, then his voice dropped abruptly low again. “You didn’t go to Second Brother to plead, nor did you hide. You went straight to Daming Palace. Although what I’m about to say might sound like I’m trying to excuse myself… but Fourth Brother, this move of yours, I truly cannot understand. The Shence Army — by then they were already in Second Brother’s hands… Many nobles who had once aligned with the Crown Prince defected to Second Brother overnight. They were so clever. Why couldn’t you see it?”

Fengbing covered his face, and finally let out a bitter laugh. “Yes. Why couldn’t I see it?”

Leaving aside the fact that Second Brother had been ordered to investigate — even if Second Brother did nothing, Fengbing being arrested and tortured would have been exactly what he wished for. Who told him to run straight into Daming Palace? That one action made it seem as though he was certain their father would protect him.

Perhaps he had been spoiled. Perhaps, having spent so long beyond the bounds of court politics, he had never seriously contemplated the scheming within. Perhaps he had simply gone to seek his father on instinct.

Just as Li Fengyan would instinctively seek his mother.

In the course of decades of life, sometimes just a bit of foolishness, a bit of cowardice, or a bit of compassion is enough to turn one’s world upside down.

Seeing Fengbing’s expression, Li Fengyan felt pity again. This youngest brother had been “abandoned” since childhood, unlike the three elder brothers who had gone out to gain experience and held many views on court affairs. Caught up in the great treason case, reduced to a pawn who took blame for every move — he was the one being moved.

Perhaps what had truly tempered him were those five years in Langzhou.

The afternoon sky had lifted a pale sun, its light reflected off the snow on the pagoda’s upturned eaves, cold and crystalline. Li Fengyan tapped the windowsill lightly and said with forced breeziness: “Now that I’ve told you this, I can finally ease my heart a little! When Pei Dan failed to save you back then, the guilt he carried was probably no less than mine.”

Li Fengyan hadn’t thought deeply about what kind of relationship Pei Dan and Fengbing truly had. He merely assumed that even for a divorced couple, one wouldn’t necessarily wish the other dead. Within the bounds of possibility, Pei Dan would surely have been willing to save him.

Though the Pei Dan of those days was, after all, nothing more than a young man of twenty.

Li Fengyan had spoken his fill and felt much better. He slapped Fengbing heartily on the shoulder and headed for the stairs ahead. “Ah, come down, come down — let’s go eat something good.”

Cold wind brushed his face, and Fengbing turned slowly, taking step after step down the stairs. The steps of the Wild Goose Pagoda were narrow and steep — easy going up, hard coming down. Layer after layer, Fengbing felt as though he were being led deeper into a maze of wealth and power, within which forever entrapped the young Pei Zhuangyuan who had inscribed his name on the Wild Goose Pagoda at seventeen, basking in spring’s triumph. Finally he reached the last step, but his foot suddenly twisted. He quickly grabbed the railing beside him.

Li Fengyan had already walked on ahead. Fengbing hurried to catch up, but a little girl in a red padded jacket blocked him at the foot of the pagoda and shoved a long wooden slip into his hand, declaring imperiously, “The master told me to compensate you with this!”

The girl was none other than Pei Dan’s niece, Pei Xiaoju. Fengbing was baffled. He looked down at the wooden slip — it was a fortune-telling stick inscribed with the words “Great Fortune.” He could only say, “Shouldn’t you go have your fortune told? You can’t just take the slip away like this.” His own had been a white one; the monk had apologized and let him keep it.

“Hmph!” Xiaoju tossed her nose skyward. “I picked through the fortune tube for ages. How can I possibly return it? You keep it!”

Fengbing was speechless but had to accept this inexplicable “Great Fortune,” planning to secretly return it to the temple later. Xiaoju beamed with delight, turned around, and bounced off toward a tree nearby.

Knowing that if she was here, Pei Dan must be as well, Fengbing watched her receding figure — and then spotted Pei Dan under the tree. There was also another older woman there. Xiaoju first rushed into the woman’s arms, then went over to talk to Pei Dan, letting him flick her forehead with his finger. All three of them burst into giggles.

Fengbing stared, dazed. He suddenly changed his mind and gripped the wooden slip tighter.

Under the tree, Pei Dan felt the gaze upon him. He looked up and directly met Fengbing’s eyes. Pei Dan’s expression changed at once. He thought Fengbing would surely not want to see him. Feeling mortified, he lowered his head, coughed twice, and turned away in haste.

Xiaoju was still chattering beside him: “What’s so hard about ‘Great Fortune’? I’ve looked at them all. There are only two sticks of ‘Great Calamity’ — if you ask me, that’s the hard one to get!” His sister-in-law hurriedly clapped a hand over her mouth. “Amitabha — we’re still in someone else’s courtyard!”

This time it really was Xiaoju acting on her own. Pei Dan wondered — had he troubled Fengbing again? There were hundreds of famous temples in Chang’an. Why had he come to this one today, of all days?

Seeing him turn away, Fengbing nearly stepped forward to follow, but just then Li Fengyan found him, saying helplessly, “What are you zoning out for?”

In an instant, reason returned. Before Fengbing could react, Pei Dan had already walked off.

“Let’s go.” Fengbing withdrew his gaze.

Incense smoke flickered in and out of visibility, curling into boundless haze. Devout men and women jostled shoulder to shoulder, while they were but two tiny drops in the ocean of humanity. A new year, a new spring — perhaps the same as the past, and perhaps never to be the same again.

Fengbing walked out of Ci’en Temple courtyard by courtyard, arriving in silence at the bustling street. He turned to look back in a daze, then bowed once more toward the temple gate.

Times had changed, and perhaps there was no longer any profit in pursuing old cases. But for Fengbing, it was not merely a story of brothers slaughtering one another and upheaval in court and country — it was also a love that had turned to dead ashes.

Above the ashes, it was as though a bird spread its wings and flew past, leaving an empty echo in its wake. He raised his head. The sky after snow stretched a thousand li of clarity, and the bell of Ci’en Temple pierced through all that was impermanent and transcendent, flying away toward the vast expanse of bygone days.

He let out a long breath, his chest suddenly open and serene.

If one trusts the true words of the Buddha,

Then across three lifetimes, together they hear the bell from a single tower.

Pei Xiaoju (the hero card Fengbing demanded after tearing open all the Little Raccoon packs by force)

The old matters Fengbing and Fengyan discussed follow a chronological sequence. The Crown Prince’s treason, Pei Dan surrounding the Shaofu Academy, Second Brother stepping out and the Crown Prince being killed — all of these events came first. Fengbing going to find Pei Dan and the late Emperor came afterward. Look carefully.

The chapter title “Iron Net and Coral” originates from the allusion of seaside people using iron nets to dredge coral. Here it draws upon Li Shangyin’s “Precious Castle”: “An iron net for coral that has no branches,” and from “Four Songs of the Yan Terrace · Spring”: “In sorrow, cast an iron net to snare the coral — the sea vast, the sky wide, lost and never found.” That is to say: the great sea stretches boundless; even if you lower your iron net and search in every direction, you will never, no matter what, obtain the thing you seek.