The Precocious Prodigy and the Doomed Tongue

In the bustling streets of Henei, one often caught snippets of gossip about the Sima family. That was only natural. After all, the most powerful house in Henei belonged to the Simas. In the past and now, whatever a powerful family did tended to become major news in the neighborhood, and major news always made for the best stories. Thus, the Sima clan—the strongest house in Henei—naturally became the one with the most tales swirling around it.

Among the many members of the Sima family who kept Henei in constant uproar, there was one girl whose name had been on everyone’s lips lately. That little brat was none other than the child prodigy born to the Sima house—Sima Liang.

Once her fame spread through Henei under nicknames like the Sima family’s genius, the new hope of the Sima clan, and the little old lady Sima Liang, some people laughed and wondered why everyone was making such a fuss over a child who hadn’t even reached adulthood. Yet those who actually met Sima Liang immediately switched sides and joined the chorus of praise. It was easy to see just how extraordinary the girl was.

Becoming famous in Henei before even reaching adulthood could be attributed to her sharp mind, her prestigious family background, and her promising, handsome features. But above all else, everyone who met her agreed on one thing: her calm speech and conduct were utterly unlike a child’s. Her mature behavior—something rarely expected from someone her age—made people think from the very first meeting, Ah, this one is going to become someone important. In modern terms, it was like acing the attitude score with a perfect ten the instant an interview began. The ultimate model student.

Yet even Henei’s perfect student, the precocious child of the Sima clan known as Sima Liang, had one problem child who made her sigh every single time they met. That problem child was her three-years-younger sister—Sima Yi. Sima Zhongda.

Sima Yi didn’t go around bullying others, picking fights every day, or stealing snacks from kids in the alley. If anything, she was the timid sort who made people worry she might come home covered in bruises or crying after having her shoes and everything else stolen. Nevertheless, in Sima Liang’s mind, Sima Yi was marked as the most serious problem child for one simple reason…

"Zhongda… what on earth are you saying…"

It was because of that catastrophic mouth that kept spitting out words no sane person could possibly imagine coming from a child.

"The rebels who rose up in Jizhou could have been crushed right away… but the central army only moved after they had already run wild ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠across the entire country… It’s because His Majesty appointed that butcher as Grand General, that’s why…"

"…Can you, just for once, watch what you—haaa…"

Sima Liang already felt as if her head might fly off at any moment from the sheer power of Sima Yi’s single sentence that managed to insult both the Emperor and the Grand General at once. Speechless with disbelief, she could only let out another long, heavy sigh.

"Zhongda, the Grand General is the one who finally allowed Father to set foot in Luoyang again after fifteen long years…"

"…And that’s exactly the problem."

"What?"

Everyone in the Sima family of Henei knew that after Sima Fang had been driven from office at a young age and settled in Henei, he had spent every day lamenting about Luoyang like a man who had lost his mind. And now that he had finally returned to Luoyang, what was this daughter of his saying? Was she indirectly calling herself unfilial?

Sima Liang had known for a long time that the girl was no filial daughter, but she had never expected her to openly spout such unfilial nonsense.

"All the people that butcher recommended are famous members of the Qingliu faction…"

"Zhongda, please stop calling him a butcher…"

"He deliberately let the rebellion grow so he could create a force to check the Ten Eunuchs… That butcher is trying to use Father as a blade to kill people…"

"Sima Yi."

"It’s obvious he doesn’t know his place and that the butcher and his younger sister coaxed the Emperor together…"

"You blasphemous little wretch!"

CLANG!

"Gwaaaak!"

Unable to endure any longer the endless stream of blasphemous words pouring from Sima Yi’s mouth, Sima Liang brought her ladle down hard on her sister’s head.

"It’s because of you that I keep losing my temper, seriously!"

"Kyaaaang! You always only do this to me, Sister! Kyaaaaang!"

"You’re the only one who keeps saying things like that!"

"Everyone except me is stupid! Sister, Dad—everyone’s an idiot! Kyaaaaang!"

Even while crying, Sima Yi kept spitting venom. She clutched her head and let out another long wail. Sima Liang tried her best to ignore the bizarre crying sound she could never get used to and stared out the window, attempting to calm her mind. Perhaps it was because of Sima Yi’s nonsense, but dark storm clouds were slowly gathering at the edge of what had been a perfectly clear sky.

At a certain graveyard in Runan County, Yuzhou, beneath a sky heavy with clouds. Despite weather that looked ready to pour rain at any moment, the stream of visitors never ceased. One might think the deceased must have been a very famous person to draw such crowds, yet it had already been nearly six years since the deceased was buried here. It was truly strange.

Of course, since the departed had come from such a distinguished family, there were naturally some who came occasionally to pay respects. But most visitors were here to see a certain insane filial daughter who had been performing mourning rites at the tomb for six whole years.

The woman who had just seen off the latest group of mourners and was returning to the grave was the one who had completed three years of mourning for her deceased mother—not even her birth mother—and then another three years for her father, mercilessly exhausting her own body in the process. In a society where the Han valued filial piety above all else, spending six years like that was by no means common. It was only natural that the graveside had become as crowded as a marketplace on a festival day.

"Then we shall take our leave here, Lady Boncho."

"…Thank you truly for coming from so far away."

Even while forcing her exhausted body to keep moving without rest, she maintained her grace and dignity. The scholars felt deep respect for the younger woman and departed from the graveyard.

"To think such a filial daughter could be born into a Taliu family. The ways of the world ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠are truly beyond comprehension."

"Indeed. A stepdaughter performing three years of mourning in place of the real daughter… Or perhaps it’s because the Taliu blood in her is so thin that someone like her could appear…"

"Ahem! Even so, let us not speak ill of the dead at their own grave."

"Khmm… Well, she may not be the birth daughter, but since such a deeply filial girl is serving her, I’m sure the late Madam is smiling down from the afterlife."

As their conversation revealed, most of the scholars who had come to offer condolences belonged to the Qingliu faction and held no goodwill toward the Taliu-aligned Yuan family. In other words, they were not the sort of people who would flock to mourn the death of some old hag from a family that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had joined hands with the Ten Eunuchs.

The real reason they had come was simply to attend a fan meeting with the greatest filial daughter of the age, the mutant of the Yuan family, the idol of the Qingliu faction—Yuan Shao.

To the eyes of the Yuan family members, both Yuan Shao—who held fan signings on top of someone else’s grave—and the Qingliu fools who traveled great distances just to attend an idol handshake event were utter scoundrels. Of course, Yuan Shao herself was well aware of this fact. Yet every time she saw her clan members seething with rage, she would simply hide a faint, bitter smile.

The overcast sky finally began to pour down in a torrential rain. The rain mercilessly soaked everyone, and even Yuan Shao—whose body had been ruined by six years of self-abuse—was no exception. Yet while everyone else watched in awe as she forced her broken body to rise and return once more to the grave, Yuan Shao herself was secretly looking down on them with contempt and ridicule.

Yuan Shao despised the Yuan family. She did not particularly like the Qingliu faction either; in fact, she held them in just as much contempt as her own relatives. She also despised the Ten Eunuchs, and even He Jin, who had recently approached her offering to treat her as a key figure in the Grand General’s faction. Yes—she despised everything in the Han Dynasty except herself. Or perhaps she even despised herself as well.

She hated the Taliu faction that gnawed away at the country. She hated the hypocritical Qingliu faction. She hated her clan that had oppressed her as a stepdaughter. She even hated herself for using them. Having come to hate everything like this, Yuan Shao felt no lingering attachment to the Han at all. Because of that, she sometimes felt a loneliness so terrible it was almost unbearable.

While everyone else dreamed of wealth and glory beneath the sky of the Liu clan, she alone dreamed of a different sky. On days when the rain poured down like this, for some reason, Yuan Shao felt that crushing loneliness more than ever.

After the long downpour, the night sky had cleared. Beneath that sky, in Zhuo County of Youzhou, at the butcher shop run by the Zhang family, the youngest son Zhang Fei was the beloved baby of a household that might not be quite golden-spoon rich, but could certainly be called silver-spoon.

He was big, strong, and surprisingly bright. For that reason, the Zhang family’s butcher shop doted on their youngest son more than anyone else. The youngest knew full well how loved he was and had grown up obediently, listening well and behaving properly. But lately, the boy had started hanging around with some strange fellow and kept spouting bizarre nonsense. It was highly suspicious.

What had he said again? That the older sister he had recently met was a descendant of the imperial family, and that she was no ordinary person. That he had to pour all the family’s wealth into investing in her. That sort of thing. After raising him with private tutors despite their modest means, for the boy to suddenly start talking like an idiot—it was ridiculous. After being scolded and chased out, he had withdrawn obediently enough, but Zhang Fei’s father still found his youngest son extremely suspicious.

It looked like the boy had been thoroughly charmed by some flower snake of a woman. Tomorrow, he would have to tail the lad and see exactly which wench had ensnared him so completely. Then he would beat her with a club until she never dared show her face in front of his son again. With that firm resolution, the father lay down to sleep—completely unaware that his beloved youngest son, Zhang Fei, was staring at the family safe containing the land deeds with the eyes of a hawk.

That night, while everyone hid their own schemes and held their breath, a certain man was leading a group of strong young fellows as he wandered aimlessly along the mountain path between Jizhou and Youzhou. Whether it was night or day, he no longer seemed to know. With bloodshot eyes, he walked without purpose—the very image of a madman. He was searching for the Yellow Turbans who had killed his parents.

People who had known him before called him Fang Lie, the tenth son of the Fang family. But now, Fang Lie’s face was twisted so viciously that no one from his village would have recognized him.