Nightfall

It always rained during the Qingming Festival.

As time passed, Chang’an had calmed down. The people who had passed away were not forgotten. They had been placed in the depths of people’s hearts. There was an invisible power that had been peacefully accumulating in the streets that was going to burst out at any time.

There were officials fiercely discussing political affairs at the court meeting, then some military officers came forward with a new proposal, which prompted another new round of discussions. Shangguan Yangyu, who had been promoted to Grand Secretary by the prefectural magistrate of Chang’an City a month ago, narrowed his small eyes and stroked his thin beard as he was about to argue with the officers of the Ministry of Revenue.

A little boy was sitting on the throne, listening to their debates. Apparently, he could not totally understand what they were talking about, but he remained calm. His small hands tightly gripping his bright yellow clothes was the only indication that he was nervous and confused.

The ministers were all satisfied with the young Emperor’s composed performance because he would have just been a naughty boy if he lived in a normal family. When they thought of this, they could not help admiring the man in the wheelchair next to the throne.

The wheelchair was very ordinary but unsightly in the solemn palace. However, it became less unsightly because of the scholar who was sitting in it.

He was wearing an old cotton jacket and holding an old book in his hand. He quietly read the book as usual as if he could not hear any noise in the room. However, most of the officers could not help focusing on him and trying to figure out his thoughts even when he just frowned due to fatigue.

So did the little Emperor. He quietly sat on the throne, enduring the boring political affairs, and tried to be focused and calm, just because his teacher was sitting beside him.

That scholar was his teacher.

He was the Eldest Brother of the Academy.

After the meeting, the relevant memorials to the throne and files were all sent to a side hall in the depths of the palace instead of the imperial study, where the little Emperor also went.

This was Li Yu’s residence. When the Empress passed away, the party struggles ended and all the officers concentrated on political affairs and armament. Moreover, the Academy had no interest or ability in state affairs. As the Royal Sister, she was the most suitable candidate for that.

Therefore, she had to review the memorials and files every day, and the most important job for her was teaching the young Emperor how to handle government affairs. Just as the Empress had said before her death, he was her only brother left.

The Academy had not restricted her at all, but for some reason, since she moved back to the palace, she seldom stepped out. And as for the courtiers who were loyal to her, she never saw them.

The spring rain fell on the palace while the officers went out of the main hall. They could not help looking toward the depths of the palace and sighing. Most of them nodded toward the imperial study before they left.

After a long time, the door of the imperial study slowly opened. Ning Que washed his hands in a copper basin carried by a maid before he entered the rain, holding an umbrella.

Although the spring rain at this time was no longer cold, it was continuous. It was so light that no one needed an umbrella, but it felt different this time when they were walking into the rain.

Ning Que could not leave the city, so he had gotten used to walking around it on his feet. He went to the Old Brush Pen Shop and found that its walls had been fixed, but the old cat had gone. Then he went to the house on the bank of Yanming Lake, looking at the willow and lotus. He fell silent for a long time.

The Eldest Brother was staying at the Imperial Palace while the Second Brother was protecting the Academy. The Third Sister had gone but he did not know where to. Master Huang Yang had not yet recovered since being injured by the Abbey Dean, but he had left the day before yesterday. He said he wanted to go to the Xuankong Temple to seek advice from the Buddhist Sect disciples about some questions in his heart.

Many people died or left and there was always someone who would be concerned about or missing them. However, as Ning Que expected, besides the cat in the Old Brush Pen Shop and the lotus in Yanming Lake, few people still remembered Sangsang.

She was easy to forget—yellow-haired, black-skinned, hard-working, frigorific, and plain-looking. She was so inconspicuous, even being Yama’s daughter, the successor of Light, or Haotian. She just vanished.

Ning Que received a letter from the maidservant and opened it. It was a receipt from the post office, in which there were notes that had been rejected. He looked at the notes and was reminded of a lot of things. He closed his eyes. He was feeling like a prisoner in Chang’an who was even unable to breathe.

He thought for a long time before he walked out of the courtyard. Looking at the coachman in front of the black carriage, he said, “What a waste it is for you to be my coachman.”

The coachman was Wang Jinglue.

He had delivered the message of General Xu Shi’s death and worked in the Military Ministry since then. Nobody knew why he had become Ning Que’s coachman.

Wang Jinglue said indifferently, “If you can do as you promised, I will do anything you want.”

Ning Que said, “Of course.”

Wang Jinglue asked, “Where are you going?”

Ning Que replied, “The Southern Gate.”

The black carriage moved forward quietly in the rain.

They reached the Southern Gate in a short time.

They stopped at the gate for a long time until the raindrops on the walls of the carriage had already evaporated. It seemed that the man inside the carriage had no idea of whether he should leave or enter the city.

All the soldiers and peddlers around the gate were already familiar with this carriage because it could frequently be seen stopping at the gate for a long time recently.

Many people focused on it, wondering if it would leave the city today.

Time passed slowly.

Wang Jinglue said, “There are some other places that you can hang out.”

Ning Que did not answer him. He sat inside the carriage, tightly holding the letter in his hand. He was once again reminded of that feeling he had when he saw the Empress jump down in front of him.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Wang Jinglue was going to turn around, and lifting his reins, he asked, “Where shall we go?”

Ning Que said, “Leave the city.”

Wang Jinglue was stunned, then he asked again, “Are you sure?”

Ning Que said, “If I can’t leave the city, how can I kill people out there in the future?”

There was a pavilion to the south of Chang’an. Around it was a large field of weeds with a lot of cemeteries.

Ning Que first went to the joint tombs of the Emperor and Empress, then he went to the public cemetery of the Military Ministry. Many soldiers were buried there. At last, he went to Yan Se and Wei Guangming’s tomb.

“When you leave, you should be able to see much in the future. But why can people only see the future when they are dying? What is the point of that for the people who are living?”

Then he turned to his left. There was a new tomb.

It was small, just as small as Sangsang.

There were only some clothes, half a box of notes, and two boxes of cosmetic powder from the Chenjinji Cosmetics Store in the tomb.

The Zengs were standing in front of it, holding each other’s hand. Mrs. Zeng must have been weeping for a long time because her eyes were red and swollen. Servants were there cleaning the tomb.

Ning Que bowed and stepped forward. He said respectfully, “Father-in-law, you should take my mother-in-law back.”

Zeng Jing had not expected that he would see him outside the city, so he was shocked. Then he understood and cried out, patting him on his shoulders with relief.

Then they all went back home.

Ning Que stood alone at Sangsang’s tomb.

He took the letter out and tore the notes apart. Then he burned one half with the receipt in front of her tomb and carefully put the other half in his pocket.

Then he left.

The black horse carriage approached Chang’an.

Listening to the rain, he sat inside, silent.

Suddenly, a blast of wind came from the north.

Yellow soil came along with the wind, becoming mud after being drenched by the rain.

The rain beat down and flowed down from the walls to the ground like a yellow curtain, which reminded him of the walls in the City of Wei.

The notes were sent to the City of Wei.

Sangsang had been sending notes since they arrived in Chang’an.

On this receipt, it said: “No one was found”.

No one was in the City of Wei.

Neither was Sangsang.

Ning Que cried inconsolably.

He jumped out of the carriage and ran into the rain.

The rain fell on his face and dirtied his tears.

The black carriage followed him.

The people passing by looked at him and asked inquisitively, “Why not get in the carriage? It is not a good time to enjoy the rain. It is too dirty.”

Ning Que wiped the dirty rain off his face. He pointed at the growing willow on both sides of the road and said, “It is spring, isn’t it?”