plumnovel Chapter 27 Lord Xinling
Chapter 27 Lord Xinling
The sun was already setting further west.
Leaving Weifeng Lane, passing through several narrow dirt roads, I returned to Xiniushou Bridge. Beyond the bridge, a completely different world unfolded. The bluestone path became neat and wide again, the locust and willow trees along the roadside grew denser, and the pedestrians' clothes became brighter and more vibrant.
Ji Cheng and Luan Ding followed half a step behind Zhao Heng. Although they were no longer as tense as when they left, their hands still habitually rested on the hilts of their swords, constantly scanning the shadows under the eaves of the street corner where someone might be hiding.
Ahead lies the border between Guili and the Commoner Market. Shops line the area, wine flags flutter in the breeze, and while not as bustling as it was in the morning, there is still a steady stream of people.
In the market town stands the city's largest music hall, "Zuiyuelou," a three-story wooden building with upturned eaves and bracket sets. During the day, unlike at night when it is crowded with carriages and horses, only a few servants lean against the door and doze off. Occasionally, a customer will lift the curtain to enter or leave, bringing out the intermittent sounds of string and wind instruments from inside.
Two maids, dressed in light pink, stood at the doorway, leaning against the door frame and chatting quietly. When they saw Zhao Heng and his two companions walk by, they glanced at them casually, then paused on the hilts of the swords at Ji Cheng and Luan Ding's waists.
Just as Zhao Heng was about to pass through the main gate of the music hall, a man suddenly emerged from the shadows of the side alley and blocked the road.
Ji Cheng and Luan Ding stepped forward almost simultaneously.
Luan Ding took a half step forward, blocking Zhao Heng and the other man. Ji Cheng's thumb was already against the hilt of the sword; with just a push, the sword would be drawn instantly.
Fortunately, the man knew his place and did not approach further, but instead cupped his hands and asked, "Are you Heng, the young master of the Chunping Lord's Mansion?"
Zhao Heng didn't answer, he just looked at him.
The man continued, "My master invites you, young master, to come upstairs for a chat."
Ji Cheng instantly shielded Zhao Heng behind him, his hand already gripping the hilt of his sword. Almost simultaneously, Luan Ding shifted to the side, blocking the other angle, and asked in a deep voice, "Who are you?"
The man ignored them and only looked at Zhao Heng.
Zhao Heng blinked, a childlike look of surprise on his face, and pointed to Zuiyue Tower: "Uncle, you want me to go up? Me, a little kid, going to a place like this?"
Then he laughed and teased, "If I go in, I'm afraid my mother will hit my palms with a ruler when I get back."
"If Madam Han punishes you for this," the man said, his expression unchanged, "my master will explain on your behalf, young master, there is no need to worry."
Ji Cheng raised an eyebrow: "What arrogance! Who is your master? Hiding your face and not even daring to reveal your name, what right do you have to invite my young master!"
Luan Ding held down Ji Cheng's arm, took a half step forward, and slightly turned his body to protect Zhao Heng. He then said to the man, "If you are going to invite someone, you should at least state your name and explain the reason. Blocking the road to invite someone like this is not the way to treat a guest."
The man remained silent, only looking at Zhao Heng: "You'll know when you go up, young master."
Luan Ding turned around and lowered his voice: "Young master, this person's origins are unknown..."
Zhao Heng glanced at the man, then looked up at the eaves of the third floor of Zuiyue Tower. His eyes darted around, and suddenly he grinned, then eagerly said:
"Since someone is willing to take the blame for me, my mother should be fine. I haven't been inside this music hall yet, so this is a good opportunity to broaden my horizons. Come on, let's go upstairs with this uncle."
Ji Cheng was taken aback, and Luan Ding frowned slightly. But seeing that Zhao Heng had already taken a step, the two of them had no choice but to follow, one on the left and one on the right, like two moving doors, protecting Zhao Heng in the middle.
The man turned and led the way, not glancing back even once.
Stepping into Zuiyue Tower, a cacophony of scents hits you: the smell of wine, the fragrance of cosmetics, and an unknown incense, all intertwined in a mingled manner.
The hall was spacious, but during the day there were few guests, with only three or five tables occupied. Some were sipping wine, others were conversing quietly, occasionally glancing at the group of four who had entered before turning away indifferently. Faint piano music drifted from upstairs, scattered and intermittent, as if someone was testing the strings.
The man led them straight up the stairs, while Ji Cheng and Luan Ding cautiously scanned every corner, every half-open door, and every passing servant.
The servants, carrying wine jugs and fruit platters, walked briskly with their heads down, completely ignoring the group.
Zhao Heng looked around curiously.
The second-floor corridor was lined with private rooms, their doors tightly shut. The sound of stringed instruments drifted from behind one of the doors; the piece being played was "Yangchun," played with practiced skill, as if a musician were rehearsing routinely. The man in gray, without glancing to either side, led the three directly up to the third floor.
The third floor was even quieter. The corridor was covered with dark red carpet, and footsteps made almost no sound.
At the end was a carved wooden door, with a sword-wielding guard standing on either side of it. They were tall and had sharp eyes, similar in temperament to the man who had led the way.
Another servant came from the other end of the corridor carrying a lacquered tray with a wine pot and fruit on it. When he saw someone coming, he stood sideways against the wall and waited with his eyes down.
The man walked to the door and gestured for Zhao Heng to come in.
Ji Cheng and Luan Ding followed closely behind Zhao Heng and were about to step inside when two guards at the door suddenly blocked their way.
The man who led the way explained, "My master only invites you, young master, to enter."
Zhao Heng paused, stopping outside the threshold.
He glanced back at Ji Cheng and Luan Ding, who had been stopped, and then at the man who had led the way. The eager smile on his face faded a little, but he wasn't annoyed. He simply tilted his head and said to the man, "I'm just strolling around this music hall. Since your master can vouch for me to my mother, she will probably allow me to be willful this time."
He pointed at Ji Cheng and the other man: "But these two, as guards, are derelict in their duty if they stray from my side. When we return, Mother will punish them for their poor performance. Do you expect your master to vouch for them and ensure they are not punished according to the rules of the household?"
A hint of surprise flashed across the man's face. He looked Zhao Heng over again, lingering for a moment on the still-childish face, then glanced at Ji Chengluanding, who was tense as a bow, and a hint of hesitation crossed his eyes.
Clearly, the instructions he received did not include how to deal with this situation.
"How about this," Zhao Heng said at the opportune moment, "you go in first and ask the master for permission? I'll wait here."
The man glanced at Zhao Heng, nodded, and slipped inside.
The two guards at the door withdrew their arms, stood still, and looked straight ahead, no longer glancing at Zhao Heng and his companions.
But Ji Cheng could sense the fleeting disdain in their eyes when they glanced at the sword at his waist. He bit his cheek, his grip on the sword tightening.
Luan Ding pressed down on his arm and slowly shook his head. He then moved to a half-step in front of Zhao Heng, forming a semi-protective posture, calmly assessing the postures, breathing rhythms, and possible distances from which the two guards might suddenly attack.
Zhao Heng paid no attention to the two guards, but took a small step back and looked at the calligraphy and paintings hanging on both sides of the corridor.
Just then, the sound of a flute drifted up from downstairs.
At first, it was extremely light, like a spring stream breaking through the ice, making a few tentative tinkling sounds. Then it became gentle, like a breeze rustling through a bamboo forest, the tips of the leaves touching. Then, the sound of the flute gradually rose, clear and melodious, spiraling upwards, and even echoing in the third-floor corridor.
The few patrons downstairs stopped drinking and strained to find the source of the sound. But the flute music was strange; it seemed to come from all directions at once, echoing and overlapping among the beams and pillars, making it difficult to pinpoint its origin. Some stood up to look, others whispered among themselves, all quite astonished.
"Where is that flute music coming from?" "Strange, it sounds like it's coming from above, but also like it's coming from under your feet..."
"Could he be a new musician? His skills are truly remarkable!"
Even the two guards at the gate showed slight changes in their expressions and subconsciously began to search for the source of the flute music.
Zhao Heng's heart stirred, and he immediately walked to the railing and looked down.
He listened for a while, then closed his eyes. Suddenly, all the surrounding noise receded like a tide. Only the sound of the flute was amplified infinitely; every tremor, every echo, was clearly audible to him.
As the breath circulated, my senses became exceptionally sharp.
In an instant, it was as if countless voices intertwined and echoed in his mind. After only a moment, Zhao Heng opened his eyes.
Downstairs, the patrons craned their necks, searching for the source of the sound. Zhao Heng, however, looked towards a small room on the southeast corner of the second floor, draped with multiple layers of gauze curtains. The curtains were blue, layered upon layered, swaying slightly in the breeze. From this angle on the third floor, only the swaying curtains could be seen; the figure behind them was invisible.
But Zhao Heng understood.
The true source of the flute's sound lies behind that curtain. The flute player's skill is extraordinary; he can control the sound so exquisitely that the sound waves refract and reverberate within the complex structure of the music hall, creating the illusion that "the sound circles around three times, yet its source remains elusive."
He leaned against the carved wooden railing, lost in thought.
"If young master is so interested, would you like me to invite him up for a look?"
A clear, smiling voice suddenly came from behind me.
Zhao Heng turned around in surprise.
The door opened again at some point, and three people walked out.
The man at the front, around forty years old, wore a dark indigo robe embroidered with silver cloud patterns, over which he wore a light black fur coat, draped casually without a belt. He had a handsome face, a neatly trimmed short beard, and particularly bright eyes that sparkled with life as he looked around.
At this moment, he was looking at Zhao Heng with a smile, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and curiosity, like an elder seeing a junior do something interesting.
He stood slightly behind him, followed by the man who had led the way, now standing respectfully with his hands at his sides.
Inside the doorway, in the shadows, stood another person. This person was exceptionally tall and burly, almost touching the lintel, with broad shoulders and a thick back, stretching his dark, tight-fitting clothes taut.
He remained silent, like an iron mountain. When his eyes swept across the doorway, both Ji Cheng and Luan Ding felt their breath catch slightly, and then they felt as if they were facing a formidable enemy.
Zhao Heng looked at the man in his forties, his mind racing, and then a look of bewilderment appeared on his face.
Seeing Zhao Heng's expression, the man was taken aback at first, then shook his head and chuckled. He stepped closer and pointed at Zhao Heng with his finger, saying, "You little rascal! You don't even recognize me?"
He walked up to Zhao Heng, raised his hand to indicate a height, roughly up to an adult's waist, "When I saw your father off to Xianyang, I carried you outside the city gate. Hmm... you were probably only this tall back then."
Zhao Heng blinked, looking somewhat lost.
Ji Cheng and Luan Ding, who were standing behind him, were filled with shock and excitement when the man walked out.
Upon hearing these words, the two men had no more doubts. They immediately sheathed their swords, clasped their hands in a fist salute, and bowed deeply, unable to contain their excitement and respect, saying, "Ji Cheng/Luan Ding greet Lord Xinling!"
Lord Xinling, Wei Wuji.
Zhao Heng's mind went blank for a moment. It was him?
He stole the tally to rescue Zhao, formed an alliance to defeat Qin, and was the foremost noble among the princes of the land. Now, he resides in Handan, a figure even the King of Zhao treats as an honored guest…
No wonder he dared to say, "I'll explain to your mother for you."
Zhao Heng suddenly understood, and a look of realization and shame immediately appeared on his face. He then took half a step back, tucked his hands into his sleeves, and bowed deeply to the ground, performing a very proper salute: "Junior Zhao Heng pays his respects to Lord Xinling!"
As he straightened up, he scratched the back of his head, revealing a childlike naiveté: "This junior was ignorant, I was young back then, and I really...cannot remember Your Majesty's face. Please forgive me, Your Majesty."
Luan Ding added in a low voice, "Reporting to Lord Xinling, my young master fell into the water and was unconscious for three days. After waking up... his memory of some old events and people is somewhat hazy. He had absolutely no intention of neglecting Your Majesty."
Zhao Heng then bowed again, his tone sincere: "However, my mother often told me the story of how Your Majesty led the armies of the feudal lords to defeat the Qin army and relieve the siege of Handan. Although I do not know Your Majesty's face, I have never forgotten my respect for you."
Wei Wuji laughed heartily at these words, reached out to help him up, and turned to the man leading the way and the giant inside the door, saying with a smile, "Look, who said the young man from the Chunping family is honest and timid? I think he's quite bold, and he speaks very eloquently."
As he spoke, he pointed downstairs again, teasingly asking with a smile, "Well? Shall I call that flute player up so you can meet him?"
Zhao Heng shook his head vigorously, fearfully saying, "Since Your Majesty invited me, my mother certainly won't blame me. But if she finds out that I not only came to the music hall, but also troubled Your Majesty to invite the musicians... then the ruler will surely fall. Your Majesty, please forgive this junior!"
Wei Wuji stopped teasing Zhao Heng, smiled, and stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in and sit down. There are a few other guests inside, so please don't be shy.
Then, he personally waved to Ji Cheng and the other man, saying, "You two come in too. You don't need to take off your swords... As guards, how can you be without your weapons?"
Ji Cheng and Luan Ding blushed slightly with excitement.
Being allowed into Lord Xinling's elegant chamber was already an honor, but to be allowed to bring a sword inside was an extraordinary privilege that made both of them breathe more quickly.
But they only subconsciously looked at Zhao Heng first, and after Zhao Heng nodded, they thanked him in unison. Then they stood on either side of Zhao Heng and followed Wei Wuji inside.
The interior was more spacious and elegant than I had expected.
A row of large windows opened in the north wall, letting in the afternoon sunlight and illuminating the room. A huge banquet table was laid out on the floor, with several low tables arranged in an arc, leaving a space in the center covered with a blue felt carpet.
The decorations on the walls were unlike those of a typical music hall or private room. On the left wall hung three swords of different shapes and styles, their scabbards worn and old, clearly all genuine weapons. On the right wall stood a wooden shelf, filled with either books or rolled-up silk paintings and maps.
The air was filled with a faint scent of ink mixed with the aroma of tea, and there was almost no trace of cosmetics.
The main seat is placed by the window, with several tables on either side. At this moment, there are already two people at the table on the left.
They were two elderly men, both around sixty years old, dressed simply. One of them had gray hair, which was hastily tied up with a wooden hairpin. He was holding a cup and sipping his drink. When he saw the man enter, he only glanced at him briefly before lowering his head again.
The other man was a bit neater and sat much more upright. He was stroking his beard and looking Zhao Heng up and down, nodding slightly.
On the right side, in the second seat after the main seat, there was another person kneeling.
The man was completely shrouded in a wide black robe, with a dark hood pulled low over his head, obscuring his face entirely in shadow. Only his right hand was visible outside his sleeve, resting on the table, while his left hand was tucked into his sleeve. There were no wine vessels on the table, only a cup of water.
Wei Wuji entered, and the two old men merely glanced at him without getting up. As for the man in black robes, he didn't move an inch either.
Wei Wuji didn't seem to mind. Instead, he cupped his hands and smiled at the three of them, saying, "I went to pick up a young master. Please forgive me for keeping you waiting. Let's continue."
He led Zhao Heng to the front of the table, first pointing to the two elders on his left: "This is Master Mao, and this is Master Xue. They are both wise men whom I rely on while I am a guest in Handan."
Zhao Heng bowed respectfully to Lord Mao and Lord Xue, saying, "Junior Zhao Heng greets Lord Mao and Lord Xue."
Chairman Mao waved his hand casually: "Sit down, sit down."
Lord Xue smiled and nodded, his gaze lingering on Zhao Heng's face for a moment longer.
Zhao Heng waited a moment, and seeing that Lord Xinling had no intention of introducing the man in black, he simply bowed politely to him and said, "Greetings, sir."
The man in black robes seemed not to hear him at all, not even nodding.
Wei Wuji seemed used to it and remained noncommittal, gesturing for Zhao Heng to sit in the reserved seat on the right.
Zhao Heng knelt respectfully to the left of the man in black robes as instructed. Ji Cheng and Luan Ding stood behind him with their hands on their swords. They quickly scanned the people in the room, lingering for a moment on the giant man and the man in black robes who had followed Wei Wuji in, before lowering their eyes.
Wei Wuji walked back to the main seat and sat down, waving to the giant standing behind him: "Zhu Hai, you sit down too, what are you standing for?"
Zhu Hai remained silent and walked to the seat next to Wei Wuji, acting as the latter's personal bodyguard. When his massive body sat down, the mat sank slightly.
Zhao Heng kept his eyes down, his posture upright, but in his mind he was memorizing the appearances, positions, and reactions of these people.
He vaguely remembered the names of Mao Gong and Xue Gong; they were hermits whom Wei Wuji had befriended in the State of Zhao, and were said to be quite talented.
As for the man in black robes... his aura was so calm it was almost nonexistent, and his left hand was always tucked into his sleeve. Was it a habit, or was there another reason?