Chapter 40 Extra Story II: Hearth Smoke in the Mortal World
"Stop right there, you two children!"
Shiyi was startled, blinking up at her third brother who held her in his arms.
"Don't be afraid, your third brother is here," he reassured her, patting her back gently.
A dozen warhorses approached, their nostrils still flaring softly. These battle-hardened steeds carried an aura of intimidation that was unmistakable.
Clutching her brother's robe tightly, she tilted her head to look at the riders. The man behind them held the reins, his back to the sunlight as he scrutinized the two half-grown children with slight interest.
A pair of dark, clear eyes gazed past the four guards and silently locked onto hers.
Shiyi cautiously returned his gaze. The surroundings were so quiet... so quiet that all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart.
The sharp sound of swords being drawn rang out as the four guards unsheathed their blades, the gleaming steel forming a protective circle around her and her brother. Even facing a dozen warhorses, confronting battle-hardened generals whose intimidating aura could not be washed away, and even standing against the Prince of Nan Chen—whom the Crown Prince himself treated with deference—these four guards were determined to protect their young mistress.
She had never seen such a scene before and buried herself deeper into her brother's embrace, though her eyes still couldn't help but steal glances at him.
Zhou Shengchen finally withdrew his gaze and casually waved the hand holding his whip. "No need to trouble the children. Let's go." With that, he spurred his horse forward and rode off without another word. Though the generals behind him still had doubts, none dared voice them. One by one, they urged their horses onward, quickly following the Prince of Nan Chen, who had already disappeared down the road.
This was her shifu.
Shiyi watched the distant dust kicked up by the horses and that fleeting white figure, her heartbeat gradually slowing. She knew that in three days, she would accompany her father to formally become his disciple. And he—he would be the person she would face from then on...
This unexpected first meeting buried itself in her heart for seven long years.
Seven years ago, she had needed her third brother's help to climb the city wall just to catch a glimpse of Zhou Shengchen. But now, seven years later, she could stand anywhere and see him whenever she wished.
Yet he came and went in haste. Over those seven years, even during festivals, he mostly spent his time at the borders.
Even when he did return, he was often surrounded by senior disciples. It seemed that outside the library, she could only watch him from afar.
A few days before New Year's Eve, the Cui family sent someone to fetch her. But she claimed to have caught a chill and was unfit for travel, choosing on her own to remain at the prince's residence. When her third brother heard the news, he grew genuinely worried and brought an imperial physician from the palace to examine her. The old doctor frowned for a long while but couldn't pinpoint the cause, leaving her brother pacing anxiously.
"Shiyi, where does it hurt? Write it down for me," her brother urged, suspecting she might not want to speak in front of outsiders. After sending the physician out, he leaned close to her bedside and whispered.
Her eyes sparkled, and she suddenly giggled.
"Why are you laughing?" Her brother was baffled, reaching out to feel her forehead. "Are you truly feverish?"
She shook her head and raised a finger, as if to write something in his palm, but hesitated.
Her third brother had doted on her since childhood, even giving up a carefree life to take a nominal post at court, all so he could stay in Chang'an to watch over her. If there was anyone in this world she could be honest with, it was him.
After a long pause, she finally wrote: I want to wait for Shifu to return.
"Wait for the Prince of Nan Chen?"
She nodded slightly. By her count, victory reports had been arriving all year, yet her shifu had not once returned to the residence. She had waited from early summer to late autumn, and now... it was already New Year's Eve.She thought he should be back by now.
Third Brother fell silent for a moment, his eyes filled with unspoken meaning: "All his disciples have returned home early for the New Year. If he doesn't return to the palace, won't you be left alone to keep vigil?"
After a moment's thought, she smiled and nodded silently.
If her master wasn't here, she would keep vigil in the palace on his behalf—it would be peaceful at least.
Third Brother ultimately indulged her. Overjoyed, she saw him out of the palace. Snow had fallen the night before, and now the red plum blossoms in the palace were dusted with white, creating a striking contrast of red and white. After seeing him off, she strolled leisurely with two maidservants when she suddenly stopped beneath a red plum branch. She curled her fingers and flicked the branch.
The slender branch trembled, shaking off the snow and revealing damp petals beneath.
On this very day last year, he had done the same thing.
She smiled, closing her eyes as she imagined him standing beneath the plum blossoms. Zhou Shengchen, the Prince of Nan Chen who carried the weight of the realm and its people on his shoulders, indulging in such a frivolous act beneath a plum tree—it was so carefree, so utterly surprising. Last year, she had followed behind him and, upon seeing this, couldn't help but laugh. He seemed to notice, turning to look at her.
In those gentle, dark eyes, there had been only her and the red plum blossoms.
"Young Mistress? Should we prepare dinner?" A maidservant's soft voice interrupted her thoughts.
Shi Yi snapped out of her reverie, her ears flushing as if her thoughts had been exposed. She shook her head, then shook it again.
Seeing her suddenly so playful, the maidservant felt relieved, thinking the young mistress's illness had improved somewhat. But when Shi Yi refused dinner again, worry crept back in. Even as Shi Yi returned to her room to read, the maidservant still prepared an elaborate dinner. Though it wasn't a reunion feast, New Year's Eve demanded some ceremony.
After all, Shi Yi's status was noble—she couldn't be slighted.
Yet when dinner was ready, Shi Yi remained absorbed in a book, reading from bright daylight until the lamps were lit. Only when hunger gnawed at her did she rise to pick at a plate of pastries before returning to her desk, leisurely setting up a game of chess.
Even as the night deepened, she showed no signs of fatigue.
The black and white pieces before her blurred the passage of time. She rested her chin on her hand, studying the board for long moments before making a move.
Her shadow on the window remained still, as patient as its owner...
"Warm some wine," a voice suddenly broke in. Her head jerked up, her dark, wide eyes locking onto the figure approaching... He stepped closer, glancing down at the chessboard.
A chorus of greetings rose behind him.
Then, as if remembering something, he added casually, "It's New Year's Eve—bring some Sichuan peppercorns too. Are you playing against yourself, Shi Yi?"
She nodded, rising from the divan to pour him a cup of hot tea herself.
The tea was scalding—she had instructed that it be replaced with boiling water the moment it cooled. Because she had known he would return.
Seeing the young mistress finally moving, the maidservant joyfully ordered the dishes reheated for dinner. As Shi Yi looked at the laden table and her master sitting beside her with a smile, hunger suddenly gripped her, and she finally felt like eating.
Zhou Shengchen picked up the warmed wine jug, pouring her a small sip before filling his own cup to the brim. Shi Yi looked at him in surprise—in all these years, this was the first time he'd chosen to drink? As if reading her thoughts, he said gently, "On New Year's Eve, one must share a cup of peppercorn wine with family to properly begin the vigil."
Suddenly, she remembered—Du Fu's poem indeed spoke of this: "Keeping vigil in the house of Arun, peppercorns praised amid the feast."However, the Cui family had no such custom, and in the prince's residence... it seemed this had never been done either. She had actually forgotten about it.
As he spoke, he scooped some peppercorns from the glass jar, adding them to her cup before doing the same for himself. Only the two of them sat at this table, so the cups were naturally a pair. Eleven looked at the pair of emerald-green wine cups, blinked, and smiled.
A reunion meal, a night of staying up late.
This was the first New Year's Eve she had spent with him—just the two of them.
And it was also the last New Year's Eve they would ever spend together.
Three years later, she left the prince's residence and returned to the Cui family to learn the rituals of a grand wedding, while he received an imperial decree to lead an expedition to pacify the border.
On her journey home, she encountered heavy snowfall.
She ended up spending a New Year's Eve in a place she had never been before.
Now, she was about to marry by imperial decree, her status growing ever more noble. The officials along the way treated her with utmost respect, even vacating their residences for her. The one who came to fetch her was Third Brother—it seemed her mother knew that only he could put her at ease. In the vast prince's residence, only the Prince of Xiaonan could make her smile freely. In the vast Cui family, only Third Brother could let her shed tears without restraint.
That night, she asked only for paper, ink, brush, inkstone, a jug of wine, and a dish of peppercorns.
Even Third Brother was not allowed inside.
During her ten years in the prince's residence, she had excelled most at chess and painting.
She loved to paint, yet even when alone, she never dared to depict his features, hiding him instead within landscapes of flowers and plants. Those paintings—she left them all behind in the prince's residence, hanging in the room she had once occupied. She thought to herself, these paintings were not meant for her alone—the person concealed within them would surely understand.
When he returned victorious and saw the room filled with scrolls...
She set down her brush, tears falling like rain, staining both the ink and the figure on the paper.
After two cups of wine, she was already seven parts drunk. Wielding her brush freely, she no longer painted lotuses or flowers but instead filled the blank scroll behind him with mountains, rivers, and the homes of common folk, even adding wisps of chimney smoke stretching for thousands of miles.
The world in his heart.
Not glorious military achievements, not mountains of corpses, but the homes of the people nestled within these rivers and mountains.
The smoke of hearths, the smoke of battlefields.
He lived his life without wife or child, immersed in the smoke of war, all to ensure that the smoke of hearths would never cease, stretching on for thousands of miles.
And she, after ten years of learning to paint, had finally painted a person tonight.
Those brows and eyes, that grace in every gesture—it could only be him.
With one swift scroll, she had at last painted him.
Princess Xinghua, who shared a deep bond with the Emperor of Dongling, later married far to the south of the river.
Three years after the Emperor ascended the throne, he died suddenly, and strife gradually spread across the land. The princess, worried for her homeland, passed away the following year in sorrow.
Elder Brother, the Crown Prince.
South of the river, the climate was pleasant. The only regret was that here... there truly were no snow-dusted red plum blossoms.
If there is another life, I would still wish to walk beside you—admiring lotuses in summer and red plums in winter.
(End of Chapter)
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