Evident Truth
The Bai estate ushered Xiao Rongyan into the inner courtyard and served tea. He had only just lifted his cup when Cui Shi'an and Guan Yongchong, the two most venerable scholars of the age, arrived to pay their condolences.
The two old masters had been the closest of friends to Bai Weiting, Duke of Zhenguo. With Bai Weiting having passed so suddenly, it was only fitting that his dearest friends should come to mourn.
Both men were well advanced in years — Cui Shi'an especially, who was on the very threshold of seventy. Supported by a servant and by Guan Yongchong's arm, he laboriously lifted his trembling legs over the threshold.
"Buyu!"
The cry burst from him the moment he crossed the door, tears already spilling down his face.
"Buyu… I am seven years your senior, and even I have not yet gone. Why did you have to leave first…?"
Buyu — "Unswerving" — had been the courtesy name of Bai Jingyan's grandfather, Bai Weiting. It was a name that captured the man's very soul: a vow held without faltering, loyalty that would end only in death — a man who had spent his life striving to protect the peace of the common people.
Bai Jingyan clenched her fists and bowed deeply in gratitude. The tears brimming in her eyes could no longer be held back; they spilled down her cheeks, and something seemed to lodge itself in her throat so that not a single sound escaped her.
The mourning hall, silent as death until that moment, dissolved into a sea of grief at the old scholar's wailing. Even the common folk standing outside the gates wept aloud.
Xiao Rongyan rose and stepped beneath the eaves. The two pillars of the literary world — the towering luminaries of the age — had come to pay respects to the Bai family's survivors. And when Bai Jingyan returned their greeting, she performed not an ordinary bow, but the full rite reserved for a master by a disciple.
Xiao Rongyan's eyes narrowed. So the Eldest Young Lady of the Bai family counts these two great scholars as her teachers?
Guan Yongchong raised Bai Jingyan to her feet. His eyes rimmed red, he nodded at her again and again. News of what Bai Jingyan had accomplished had reached even him, and a thousand thoughts flashed through his mind at once.
He remembered Bai Jingyan at four years old — a darling, endearing little girl. His dearest friend Bai Weiting had come to the small house in the bamboo grove where Guan Yongchong lodged, holding his granddaughter by the hand, and begged him to teach the child.
"A woman's virtue lies in having no learning and no talent. What use is there in filling her head with books, only to give her headaches?"
Morning sunlight had poured down through the dense canopy of leaves, and the wind had swept across them with a dry, crackling rustle.
His old friend had smiled and stroked the little girl's head, answering slowly.
"With learning, one comes to know propriety, and virtue, and righteousness, and shame. I do not wish for my granddaughter to possess brilliant scholarship. I wish only that she know propriety and virtue, righteousness and shame — and that she live her life standing tall."
Uprightly. Boldly. A child who protected and cherished the people, who knew honor and virtue, shame and righteousness. Bai Jingyan had grown up to be everything he could have hoped.
Cui Shi'an nodded, tears brimming, and spoke at last — words that were half consolation, half regret.
"Your grandfather saw you clearly. You have grown up exactly as he wished… and so very well."
Bai Jingyan, choking on her tears, bowed to the two elders once more.
"Poor child. See that you look after your grandmother, your mother, and your younger siblings well."
Sorrow saturated Guan Yongchong's voice.
Bai Jingyan nodded and promised that she would.
Word that the two pillars of the literary world had come to mourn spread quickly, and members of the capital's most powerful families began arriving one after another. The Zhenguo Duke Estate, which had lain as silent as the dead, now rang with wailing loud enough to shake the heavens, and mourning carriages streamed through its gates without pause.
The aged Marquis Zhengyong arrived with his entire household. He had barely cried out, "Brother Buyu!" before his tears broke loose.
Bai Jingyan exchanged mourning bows with him. She had only just risen when Chun Tao seized the hem of her skirt, hurriedly shouldered her way through the crowd, and drew close behind her. Panting hard, she forced her voice as low as it would go.
"Eldest Young Lady, Guard Nuo Ping has brought word. Qi Zhengyu has returned!"
Qi Zhengyu!
Bai Jingyan's head throbbed. She clutched Chun Tao's hand and lifted her gaze. Watching the Zheng family still bent in their bows, she waited for the moment when no one was looking, forced strength into her numb, leaden legs, and rose — all but toppling over in the effort.
Bai Jindong rushed to steady her and murmured in a small voice, "Eldest sister?"
Bai Jingyan gripped Chun Tao's hand tight.
"Let's go."
Chun Tao lowered her head, supported her mistress, and slipped with her out through the crowd, unnoticed.
Bai Jindong sensed something was terribly wrong. She turned and whispered to Bai Jinxiu, "Second sister, please look after the younger ones. I'm going with eldest sister!"
Bai Jinxiu, who had been worrying all along that Bai Jingyan might not hold up and collapse, nodded at once. Bai Jindong rose and quietly followed.
Bai Jingyan staggered down the steps, her legs so numb they felt near to failing her entirely. Nuo Ping came toward her, his face grim. He opened his mouth to speak — then caught sight of Bai Jindong following behind her, straightened his posture, and performed a fist-palm salute instead.
"Eldest Young Lady. Third Young Lady."
"Where is he?"
It felt as though waves were crashing violently through her chest; even her voice shook. She was terrified the news Qi Zhengyu carried might be bad — terrified of hearing that something had happened to Shen Qingzhu — and yet at the same time, a fragile hope flickered within her: that perhaps he had brought word of Bai family survivors still alive on the Southern Border battlefield.
"The rear garden. Yin Shuang found him. Physician Hong is stopping the bleeding now," Nuo Ping answered.
"Let's go."
Bai Jingyan ran as fast as her legs would carry her, regretting only that she had no wings.
She had guessed, more or less, what awaited her — but the moment she set foot in the rear garden, her heart plummeted. She could hear Qi Zhengyu's groans, muffled as he bit down on a wooden block to strangle his own cries of pain.
She pushed open the door. Inside, Physician Hong was just pressing a blade heated over the fire against the raw stump of Qi Zhengyu's severed arm, searing the wound shut. Qi Zhengyu gripped the edge of the table with his one remaining hand, the wooden block clenched between his teeth. His face had flushed beyond crimson, the veins at his temples standing out, and great beads of sweat mingled with blood, streaming down him without cease.
"Nearly done! There — it's done! It's done…"
Physician Hong set the blade aside and wiped his brow with a handkerchief already soaked in blood.
The smell of searing flesh stung the nose; gooseflesh raced across every arm in the room.
Fortunately, Bai Jingyan had been to war. Such a scene was not entirely foreign to her — though the sight was one that would have buckled the knees of even a seasoned man, let alone a woman's.
Bai Jindong, on the other hand, stood rooted, her eyes gone round as saucers. What on earth had Qi Zhengyu gone out to do, to come back with an arm cut clean off?
"Eldest Young Lady!"
Qi Zhengyu's eyes burned bloodshot, his whole body drenched in blood — he had not even had time to change his clothes. He knelt on one knee, and whether from the loss of his arm or not, even that posture left him swaying. Choking back tears, he went on.
"Eldest Young Lady, while Lady Shen and I were escorting Weiguo toward the Southern Border, we met Yue Zhizhou on the road — the personal guard who serves at the Third Young Master's side. General Yue was carrying three bamboo slips of campaign records under escort… and I failed in my mission. I did everything in my power to hide them and bring them safely home, but I could protect only one. Eldest Young Lady — I beg you, punish me as you see fit!"
When he finished, Qi Zhengyu hastily undid the blood-soaked bundle strapped to his back. Inside lay a single bamboo slip, bound fast.
Bai Jingyan's eyes ached dully. She helped him to his feet and answered with grave solemnity.
"You came back alive. That is enough."
Only then did Bai Jindong grasp the situation. Eldest sister had sent people to the Southern Border long ago.
Bai Jindong stepped forward, took the bamboo slip from Qi Zhengyu's hand, and unfurled it — reading through it once, then again, and again.
"In the fifteenth year of the late Emperor's reign, on the twelfth day of the twelfth lunar month, General Jiyong Bai Qingming destroyed a small Xiliang cavalry force and led a thousand men back to camp to give aid. The camp stood on open ground, and General Jiyong rescued ten stragglers from the field… According to those stragglers, the day before, King Xin had glimpsed the advance of Southern Yan's army of fifty thousand, abandoned the camp, and fled with three thousand soldiers. General Jifeng Bai Qingyou, who held the camp, dispatched five hundred men to escort the people of the rear to safety, then led fifteen hundred men in a desperate stand. General Jifeng died — and his body was burned."
"In the fifteenth year of the late Emperor's reign, on the thirteenth day of the twelfth lunar month, General Jiyong held Fengxian, turning back Southern Yan's great army at its siege. General Jiyong Bai Qingming declared: 'Millions upon millions of our people stand behind us. The Bai family shall make its stand with its back to the water. We will not retreat — on our very lives — until the last soldier remains!'"
Bai Jindong's face had gone ashen. She looked at Bai Jingyan, still supporting Qi Zhengyu, and her eyes reddened. But she read on.
"To shake the morale of the Great Jin army, Yun Paxing, supreme commander of the Xiliang–Southern Yan allied forces, put the corpse of Deputy Marshal Bai Qishan on display before the army, and cut off the head of the Bai family's seventeenth son, Bai Qingdong, and—"
The instant she read the final line, Bai Jindong's eyes flew wide as if they would tear apart. Tears streamed down her face; her blood surged up into her head in a rush, draining her complexion to bone-white. It felt as though a blade had pierced clean through her chest — even breathing became a struggle. A murderous aura seemed to stab at the heavens themselves.
Bai Jingyan snatched the slip away, clenched her teeth, and read through it to the end. The handwriting was crude, hastily done.
It felt as if thousands upon thousands of nails were being driven into her chest. A bitter taste, laced with the sting of blood, rose from her chest up into her throat. The pain was harder to bear than death itself. Bai Jingyan trembled from head to toe — and all but collapsed to the floor.
"Eldest Young Lady!"
Chun Tao rushed to catch her, tears falling in fat drops.
Bai Jingyan had seen Bai Qingdong's gruesome corpse with her own two eyes — yet never once had she imagined he had been put to death so horribly.
She squeezed her bloodshot eyes shut and bit down hard on the tip of her tongue. She had to keep her wits. This was no time to drown in boundless grief. The world had to see the Bai family's wounds — had to see the depths of their desperation. She had to tear King Xin's face — the face of the Emperor's own legitimate son — to shreds before the eyes of all the realm. She had to press the Emperor upon his high throne with the fury of the people, until King Xin was put to death!
The Bai family's vengeance — I will repay it with my own hands.
Ever since the two old masters had come to pay their respects, the powerful houses of Dadu had begun arriving at the estate as well. The timing could not have been more perfect.
Bai Jingyan looked with reddened eyes at Qi Zhengyu, his body a ruin of wounds.
"Qi Zhengyu. There is something that must be done. Can you… endure it?"
"Eldest Young Lady, only give the order! Even if it costs my life, I will see it through!"
Qi Zhengyu answered through gritted teeth.
"Chun Tao — go to my room and bring back the five bamboo slips Wu Che brought!"
"Yes!"
Chun Tao threw open the door and ran.
The moment she confirmed Chun Tao was beyond the door, Bai Jingyan gave Qi Zhengyu his instructions, her bearing formal and precise.
"You will carry six bamboo slips and enter through the main gate of our estate — straight toward the mourning hall. And in this wretched state of yours, you will present those slips to us. Your story is this: before the festival, you set out on my orders to bring winter clothing to grandfather, to father, to our uncles and younger brothers on the Southern Border. At Chongluan Ridge, you came upon Fang Yan, commander of the Menghu Battalion of the Bai Family Army, being hunted down by assassins — and only after losing every single guard who had traveled with you did you barely manage to save General Fang's life. General Fang then told you that You Huanzhang had committed treason, conspiring with Southern Yan and King Xin.
"Tell them that King Xin, coveting the glory of military victory, pressured grandfather into taking the field and drove hundreds of thousands of soldiers to their deaths. Tell them the front line had already collapsed — that General Jifeng Bai Qingyou shielded the fleeing people with his life, holding the enemy at bay. Tell them King Xin abandoned the people outright and fled, dragging a great host of troops away by force! And tell them that on your journey home, you were hunted the whole way, hiding and running, and barely managed to preserve these six bamboo slips — so that the fallen spirits of our Bai family might have their honor restored to them."
Bai Jingyan laid it all out, point by methodical point. Nine parts of her words were truth. One part was a lie — and that one part of falsehood made the origin of these six bamboo slips perfectly, unimpeachably clear.