YNRHPCYC Chapter 99

Normally, Liang Yanbei would never hit a woman, let alone Situ Zhoulan.

Wen Chan had once looked into this deeply, and he had asked Liang Yanbei such a question, “If a woman who killed your whole family and had a blood feud with you was now standing in front of you, could you resist hitting her?”

At that time, Liang Yanbei replied, “If she makes me so angry, I will do it.”

Wen Chan asked, “Under what circumstances can one make you angry enough to do it?”

“I don’t know. I have such a good temper. I will hit a woman only when I am really angry.” He said.

Liang Yanbei’s temper was actually not very good, but Wen Chan had never seen him beat a woman. At that time, he thought that maybe Liang Yanbei himself was more tolerant of women and kept his anger very low with them.

But this slap was loud and without any mercy, just because of an old flute.

Liang Yanbei looked so nervous, and he obviously loved the flute given by Wen Chan. But if that was the case, how could he hide it for several years and never take it out even once?

A sound of thunder descended from the sky, awakening all things sleeping in the night and interrupting Wen Chan’s thoughts.

It was raining heavily, and there was a pattering sound in his ears.

Wen Chan looked at the scene passing in front of him, thinking in his heart: Where did this bird fly to this time?

Soon, the bird stopped and landed on a branch with tender buds, enduring the wind and rain.

At first glance, it was a wilderness, with only a slightly dilapidated house that seemed to be windproof and rainproof and unusually strong in sight.

The candlelight scattered from it, reflecting the shadows of the two people on the wall.

He took a closer look and saw that the two of them were Liang Yanbei and Wen Yuan.

Wen Yuan was the son of Wen Chan’s younger brother. After Wen Chan’s younger brother was born, he was taken away by an old monk on the grounds of resolving the natural disasters in Xi Liang. For decades, there was no news of him.

When Wen Chan seized the throne, he appeared to block a fatal attack for Wen Chan. When he was dying, he was taken away by the old monk for treatment. After Wen Chan became emperor, he sent people to search for his traces throughout Xi Liang but found nothing. It was not until Liang Shaojing was five years old that he appeared with his son, Wen Yuan.

Wen Chan once wanted him to ascend the throne. But all the officials in the court strongly opposed it, and he himself was unwilling. So Wen Chan had no choice but to grant him a title and a house and let him settle down in the Yuan city, vowing to protect him for the rest of his life.

But in the end, this younger brother had the idea of colluding with a foreign country and planning to seize the throne.

Apart from him, his son Wen Yuan was also very much liked by Wen Chan. At least in the last days of his life, Wen Yuan gave Wen Chan great peace of mind. He was smart and calm. No matter what he was thinking, he never showed it on his face, and it was difficult for anyone to guess his thoughts easily.

This was too similar to Liang Yanbei. Maybe this was a common trait of smart people?

At the moment, Wen Yuan sat silently opposite Liang Yanbei, stroking a short dry branch with his fingers, and whispered, “Uncle Liang, after I find Jinzhi, I want to take Jinzhi away from the capital.”

Wen Chan was stunned momentarily, and then he saw Liang Yanbei turn his head. His face was even more haggard than before, and the spirit on his face was almost gone, revealing an old and tired look, which was distressing.

He said, “No, you must come back to the capital.”

Wen Yuan’s expression did not change at all, “Jinzhi has already died once, and I can’t let him suffer these injuries again.”

Wen Chan knew what time it was at once.

This was the year when Liang Shaojing died. Wen Chan had personally told Wen Yuan that if he brought something with Liang Shaojing’s aura, he could call back his soul within a year.

Liang Shaojing’s death caused a lot of turmoil in the city. Liang Yanbei was also hit hard as a result and was bedridden.

It was the year Wen Chan least wanted to remember. He spent almost every day in nightmares. He tried every means to find the murderer of Liang Shaojing, but he only found out when he was on his deathbed.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Liang Yanbei sighed, “I also understand your feelings for Jin’er, but you have to think more about it. In life, it’s impossible to just think about yourself. You have no close relatives now and can wander around, but Jin’er is different. I’m still here, and he will definitely come back to find me.”

“Besides.” Liang Yanbei paused, his voice slowly lowered, and said slowly, “I’m old, and the Wen clan’s kingdom still needs you young people to guard it. There are so many ambitious wild wolves[footnote]people with rapacious designs[/footnote] in the city now, eyeing the throne like a tiger watching its prey[footnote]fig. to eye covetously[/footnote]. If you leave, who can protect the Wen family?”

Wen Yuan raised his eyes slightly when he heard this and looked at Liang Yanbei, “Uncle Liang, actually, you don’t have to be so roundabout. I know your intention, but the king’s reign will continue to change. You have been guarding the emperor for a lifetime, and it’s time to rest.”

Liang Yanbei asked Wen Yuan to come back to guard the country, and Wen Yuan persuaded Liang Yanbei to rest.

Wen Chan didn’t expect that the two had a serious discussion in this shabby little house back then.

But what he didn’t expect, even more, was still to come.

After listening to Wen Yuan’s words, Liang Yanbei’s eyes darkened, and he shook his head gently, “As long as the Holy One is still there, I can’t stop in this life, but my time in this world is running out. If I leave him alone in the world, I will be worried. You are so smart and know how to protect the Wen family and him.”

“Consider it a final comfort before I die. If not, I won’t find peace even if I go to the underworld.” He said.

There was a sense of begging in Liang Yanbei’s tone and expression.

Wen Chan laughed all of a sudden. I never thought you, Liang Yanbei, would see the day!

While laughing, he wanted to cry. Liang Yanbei was really old.

Liang Yanbei had never begged anyone. Even when he was captured by Zhong Guoyi, even when he experienced various threats, Liang Yanbei always fought against the evil enemy with a sharp sword. Even if he was covered in blood, he never lowered his head.

But Liang Yanbei, who was so proud, actually showed a begging look to someone of the younger generation in this small dilapidated house.

Wen Chan felt a pain in his heart and wanted to run to him, grab his collar, lift him up, and shout to him, “I don’t want the protection you are seeking for!”

According to the final analysis, it was because he was too stupid and weak in his previous life that Liang Yanbei broke his heart.

Wen Yuan was also surprised but nodded and agreed, “After Jinzhi returns, I will rush back to the capital immediately. Before that, everything in the capital will be handled by Uncle Liang.”

The two made an agreement that others didn’t know about and then parted ways.

At the same time, in the same city, too many secrets that Wen Chan didn’t know were hidden.

As darkness fell before his eyes once more, a sudden fear and a desire to retreat appeared in his heart, making him resistant to the next scene.

But he couldn’t help it.

This time the switch was very fast, and in the blink of an eye, the scene changed in front of him, and there was no noisy wind and rain.

It was in a room. From his position, the bird seemed to be perched by a window. The furnishings in the room were simple, with faint candle lights on, and there was a person lying on the bed. But he could not see clearly through the curtains.

There was only the sound of breathing around, and it was eerily quiet.

Then the door of the room was pushed open, and Wen Chan saw Situ Zhoulan walking in slowly with a strange smile on her face. When she opened her mouth, her voice was hoarse and unpleasant, “Liang Heng, he is about to die.”

The person on the bed moved, struggling to sit up from the bed, and his voice was filled with powerless anger and shock, “What did you say?!”

“Wen Chan is dying.” Situ Zhoulan laughed like crazy, and her once beautiful face was twisted and hideous, “His concubines and sons, all the civil and military officials in the court are kneeling in front of the palace waiting for him to breathe his last. But he is still thinking of you, and he sent someone to pass the imperial edict to let you into the palace. Don’t you think it’s ridiculous?”

Liang Yanbei lifted the bed curtain and got off the bed. His skinny fingers went to get his shoes, and his weak movements revealed anxiety.

His face was much thinner, and there were wrinkles on his face, neck, and hands. He showed a sickly paleness.

Wen Chan’s heart tightened, and he stared at Situ Zhoulan, wishing he could jump down and kill her with a knife.

Before he passed away back then, he did summon Liang Yanbei, the civil and military officials, and the concubines in the harem. But he wanted to see only Liang Yanbei.

At that time, Liang Yanbei also entered the palace as ordered, but Wen Chan didn’t know that Liang Yanbei’s health had been so bad at that time.

He stood up, tremblingly, and shouted loudly, “Someone come!”

“Don’t worry; I have readied everything for you. Go see him for the last time.” Situ Zhoulan smiled from the side, “From now on, that person named Wen Chan will no longer exist.”

Liang Yanbei clenched his fists and trembled all over. He looked at Situ Zhoulan with hatred, said nothing, and walked out anxiously.

Then the horses immediately entered the palace. After Liang Yanbei got off the carriage, he strode into the hall with unsteady steps, passing by the people kneeling on the ground, not glancing sideways.

He entered the inner hall and saw the person lying quietly on the dragon bed. He slowed down his pace and looked stunned.

Wen Chan saw himself. His old, dying self.

In order to call back Liang Shaojing’s soul, Wen Chan used the ancient sorcery given to him by Lou Muge — — Wanxiang Tai Chi[footnote]”万象太极” refers to the idea that all phenomena in the universe originate from and are encompassed within the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate).

太极 (Tàijí): This is the Supreme Ultimate. In Chinese cosmology, Taiji represents the primordial undifferentiated unity from which all existence arises. It is often visualized as the well-known Yin-Yang symbol, illustrating the duality of complementary forces (Yin and Yang) that are interconnected and interdependent, constantly in flux, and give rise to everything.

[/footnote].

The moment Liang Shaojing’s soul returned to the world, Wen Chan vomited a large mouthful of blood. As he got closer and closer to the capital, Wen Chan’s body became weaker and weaker. It was not until Liang Shaojing became a real living person that Wen Chan’s life came to an end.

It was a pity that Wen Chan was not familiar with the Wanxiang Tai Chi formation, and there was a problem with Liang Shaojing’s soul that was called back, causing him to be reborn as a woman.

But he was still very satisfied with the final result. At least he called the person back, didn’t he?

Only he and Wen Yuan knew this secret.

The section of the path he was currently walking on was obviously not long, but Liang Yanbei walked for a long time. When he stopped in front of the dragon bed, Wen Chan saw him clearly. A tear then slid down from his eyes, slid across his delicate face, and fell on the bed.

At that time, Wen Chan’s body was almost eaten away by the spell. His eyes could not see anything, most of his body was paralysed, and he was completely unconscious. Only his ears could still be used.

He opened his mouth and called in a low and hoarse voice, “Liang Heng?”

Liang Yanbei sat down in front of his bed, and when he spoke, there was no cry or weakness in his voice. It was as tough and steady as before, “Your Majesty, I’m here.”

Wen Chan saw that his expression was relaxed, and a faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. Then he stopped talking, and his breathing became steady and slow. Each sound was weaker than the last.

Liang Yanbei kept staring at him with tearful eyes. Although he was also old and wrinkled and not as handsome as he was in the past, Liang Yanbei’s eyes were very focused, not tired or bored, and he looked at every detail very seriously.

But he, who was blind in both eyes, had no idea.

Wen Chan heard himself say, “Liang Heng, I really regret it……”

Liang Yanbei blinked, tears fell again, and he didn’t say a word.

Wen Chan almost laughed out loud when he saw him like this. When he felt the passage of his life, he was quite calm. He thought a lot, but he didn’t shed tears. On the contrary, disappointingly, Liang Yanbei cried.

Such thoughts can help him suppress the pain in his heart to some extent. Although these things have passed and everything has started over again, when he sees these things again, he still feels heartbroken.

This was the first time he had seen Liang Yanbei cry.

Then came the real farewell. Liang Yanbei watched him lose his life little by little, and all the signs of life were gone. Then he slowly reached out his hand, pulled Wen Chan’s hand over, and held it tightly, tears pouring down his cheeks.

“Ah Chan, I regret it too.” He gritted his teeth and sobbed, burying his head in Wen Chan’s hand, and didn’t get up for a long time.

The bird circled in the hall for a while and let out a low cry before calling Liang Yanbei’s consciousness back. He wiped away his tears and gently put Wen Chan’s hand back into the brocade quilt, wiping away all the fragility, and the whole person suddenly seemed to be full of energy.

At that time, after Wen Chan died, he met the man who claimed to be Lou Muge, and he was followed by the little girl named Sheng Sheng.

Lou Muge said to him, “Calling that child back did not exhaust all your energy. If you still want to live, I can help you stay in the world for a while longer.”

Wen Chan thought for a while and said, “No, I’m tired of life there. Can you transfer the rest of my energy to Liang Heng? Let him live well. Jinzhi has just returned. If he dies of any illness, it will be a big loss.”

Lou Muge said nothing and complied with his request.

Liang Yanbei, who was standing outside the palace, looked very majestic. Even if he was standing in the dark, the aura he exuded was enough for everyone present to feel his presence. He was completely different from himself before entering the palace.

That was the last time Wen Chan saw him then.

The country’s territory was completely there, the rebels were eliminated, Liang Yanbei was also well, and Wen Chan left with peace of mind.

Seeing this, Wen Chan thought it was over; after all, he had left the stage. But what he didn’t expect was that the protagonist of this story was not him but Liang Yanbei.

In a flash, it changed from that night of foul wind and bloody rain to a sunny day.

Before him was a stretch of green mountains and winding rivers, with fine clouds looming in front of his eyes, extending to the extreme of his line of sight.

The crowing of birds and the sound of water merged together. The geese walked across the deer, and the wind left no trace.

Just when Wen Chan was still wondering where this place was, the bird tilted its body and flew towards the ground until it passed through the tree canopy and then slowly stopped. Wen Chan saw a person walking in front of him.

The bird slowed down and flew over, circled in front of the person, and then flew beside him at a distance, keeping the same speed as the person.

“You are here again.” He had a faint smile on his face.

Only then did Wen Chan discover that this person was Liang Yanbei. He was the same as before but also a little different from before.

He was no longer wearing brocade and jade robes but was wearing a light-coloured coarse linen shirt. His long hair was cut short and tied up, and he was wearing a pair of muddy cloth shoes.

The only bright and exquisite luxury item on his body was the flute pinned to his waist, made of high-quality wood, wrapped with gold silk, and with a golden tassel.

That was the one that Wen Chan had given to him.

He didn’t know how long it had been since he passed away, but Liang Yanbei’s body had become calmer, and his black eyes were full of calmness.

Why did he become like this? Where was this place? Where were Situ Zhoulan and Liang Shaojing?

A series of questions popped up in Wen Chan’s mind, but unfortunately, he couldn’t get the answers.

Liang Yanbei kept walking, neither slow nor unhurried, and he didn’t pant. He stopped only when he reached the top of the mountain.

As far as the eye could see, the mountains and rivers were far away, and the heavens and the earth were fused together, suffused with a blue-green hue.

Only when you stand on a high place can you personally experience your own insignificance. Amidst a thousand miles of scenery, everything was simply breathtaking.

Liang Yanbei untied the wine pot tied around his waist, raised his head, and drank two sips, then put it at his feet, and then took out the flute and gently put it against his mouth.

The next moment, the clear and long flute sound came, spreading out layer by layer, echoing melodiously among the mountains and rivers, like waves slowly spreading on the lake, blending with the grass, flowers and rivers under the warm sun, and blending with this tranquillity that no one has set foot on.

Liang Yanbei’s flute sound actually gave him a feeling that he hadn’t had for many years, a sense of familiarity long sealed in his heart, and it was now awakened by the sound of the flute.

A little tenderness appeared on his face, and a faint smile appeared at the corners of his eyes. He seemed to have thought of something interesting. The sound of the flute he played was always soft and slow, which made people involuntarily immersed and peaceful.

After the song was over, Liang Yanbei put down his flute and looked into the distance for a while, then whispered, “Ah Chan, look at this place. Do you like it?”

Wen Chan was stunned.

He watched Liang Yanbei sit down on the spot, pick up the wine pot, and drink it sip by sip, looking at the scenery in front of him again and again. He then murmured to himself, as if someone was sitting next to him, “Look at this mountain, look at this river, look at this road. Is it what you want?”

Wen Chan looked at him like this, watching him rubbing the flute, drinking all the wine in the pot, and finally getting up and carving a mark with a dagger on a stone that was ten feet high by the side.

When Liang Yanbei put down the last stroke, he saw the word clearly — — Chan.

Thousands of words[footnote]having a lot of things to say[/footnote], all melted into one.

Then Liang Yanbei left, and it switched to the next scene quickly. Through the eyes of the bird, he saw Liang Yanbei passing through the wilderness of flying sand and rolling pebbles, accompanied by the howling cold wind, and climbing a snow-capped mountain.

With the same pot of wine, flute, and word that left his footprints as before.

He came to the endless desert again, braving the scorching sun during the day and the cold frost at night, wandered for several days, found a small oasis, sat in front of an ordinary flower, and did the same thing as before.

Finally, he travelled through many places and covered great distances, eventually stopping in a peaceful town. There, he bought a simple hut, lived there, chopped wood, and hunted every day. In exchange for silver, he bought a set of pens, ink, paper, and an inkstone.

He washed his hands and painted a picture. There was a group of snow-white pear trees in the picture, and a young man in yellow brocade stood under the tree, looking up at something.

The moment was frozen, peaceful, and beautiful.

Liang Yanbei’s painting skills had regressed a little, and he could not achieve the level of vividness as before, but Wen Chan still saw at a glance that the young man in yellow was him.

Looking at the young appearance, it seemed that it had happened many years ago, so long ago that Wen Chan himself had no memory of it, but Liang Yanbei painted every detail clearly.

He hung the painting next to the simple bed, which became the cleanest and most beautiful place in the whole room.

After doing this, he moved to the only broken chair in the room, which he had made by himself, sat on it, looked up at the painting, and stared at it for a long time.

After looking at it for a long time, Liang Yanbei held the wine pot again and whispered to himself, “I haven’t done it for so long, and I didn’t paint you handsome either. But it’s okay. You will always be the best-looking in my heart.”

Wen Chan suddenly remembered that he had once said such words to Liang Yanbei.

“The most beautiful river should be seen in the mountains; the most beautiful snow should be seen in Outer Mongolia[footnote]lit. north of the Gobi Desert[/footnote]; the most beautiful flowers should be seen in the desert; and the most beautiful people can only be seen in the heart.”

He walked through the mountains, Outer Mongolia, and the desert and engraved the word ‘Chan’ in every place.

A pot, a flute, and a dagger. Wherever he passed by were the places Wen Chan wanted to go most but couldn’t go.

Liang Yanbei drank up all the wine and went out with the jug. He first went to the wine shop and filled the jug, then went to buy a hoe and a shovel, carried the two things, and entered the barren forest behind the town.

Liang Yanbei walked around for a while, stopped at the foot of a mountain, moved the shovel to the side, took a sip of wine, and started digging the ground.

Was he going to clear the wild area for cultivation? Wen Chan thought.

He would never have thought that Liang Yanbei would farm the land himself one day and become a farmer. He used to be a favoured child of heaven, second only to one man and above ten thousand people. His hands had held writing brushes, painting brushes, and swords to defend the country.

This must be the first time he had held a hoe for farming.

Liang Yanbei hoed with his head down. When he was hungry, he would hunt some wild animals or birds in the forest and roast them. And after eating, he would continue to work. He was very silent during the whole process and didn’t say a word.

No one came there, so he worked from when the sunlight was bright to when the moon was bright and stars were few, wiped the sweat from his face, and went back with his things.

The next day, he got up early and did the same thing. When the soil was almost loose, he started to dig with a shovel.

Only then did Wen Chan feel that something was wrong. If he were farming, he shouldn’t have dug such a deep pit. What the hell was he doing? Did he want to dig a pit to bury the painting and flute and start a new life in this place?

Afterwards, Wen Chan realised that he was thinking wrong. He really wanted to bury things, but not those, but himself.

He spent several days from morning to night digging two deep pits and spent several more days making two stone tablets by hand and carefully engraving words on them, sitting in front of the pits.

After doing all this, he ordered two coffins in the town and transported them to the forest, which caused a lot of criticism. Many people thought that this outsider was a weirdo, but he didn’t care about those rumours.

Liang Yanbei put the painting he drew in one of the coffins, pushed the coffin into the pit by himself, and said to the coffin, “I don’t know Feng Shui[footnote]geomancy[/footnote], nor do I understand Qimen Basuan. I just think this place has good air and is quiet. I may have wronged you. But don’t be angry.”

Wen Chan suddenly felt that a hole was torn in his heart, and all the heartache and pain gushed out together, strangling him in an instant, and the pain was so severe that he suffocated.

He always thought that he had suffered enough pain and that he was strong enough to hold it in, never showing it in front of others so that no one could notice it.

However, Liang Yanbei was even stronger. No matter if he was in front of others or behind others, he always had this calm appearance. Even if he was alone all day and all night, he was either busy with work or drinking and lost in thought. He couldn’t discern anything, just like a fool who doesn’t know how to think.

But only Wen Chan knew that this was the manifestation of his true sadness to the extreme. In the past, Liang Yanbei was a person who smiled every day, smiling lightly and calmly. When he was happy, those beautiful eyes were all smiles, and when he was angry, there was a sneer hanging from the corner of his mouth.

On the handsome face, there were always expressions that were vivid, and there were various expressions that made people unable to move their eyes.

But now he didn’t have that kind of anger. When he was in a daze, his eyes were absent-minded. Only when he occasionally remembered something were there some changes on his face, which made Wen Chan’s whole heart tighten and hurt like it was pricked by a needle.

This was not his Liang Yanbei, not the Liang Yanbei who made people feel joyful with just a raised eyebrow or a glare. No matter what he did now, Wen Chan’s heart would ache.

Liang Yanbei shovelled the soil briefly and buried the coffin, flattened the pit, and erected the stone tablet in front of the coffin.

After doing this, he was so tired that he collapsed on the ground and drank as he panted.

Then, Lou Muge appeared. He stood not far away and looked at Liang Yanbei, “He has already left. It’s not worth it for you.”

Liang Yanbei seemed to have seen him before and was not even surprised by his appearance. He looked up at him. A breeze blew by, making the leaves rustle. He said calmly, “No.”

“He didn’t leave; he’s always here.” He pointed to his heart, “No matter how chaotic and dangerous the world is, I’ll leave a piece of pure land for him here, put him in it, and protect him forever. No one can hurt him.”

His tone was calm and firm, and Lou Muge didn’t say anything else.

“You came just in time; there is one thing I wanted to ask you.” Liang Yanbei picked up the flute from the side and said, “When I die, bury me in this pit, together with this flute.”

“I want to stay here forever, with him.” His gaze turned and fell on the upright stone tablet.

The howling wind melted all the sounds, and the scenery in front of him became smaller and smaller. Liang Yanbei, sitting on the ground, and Lou Muge, standing, were getting farther and farther away, and then the whole wasteland was tightened in sight.

The scenery passed by quickly through the white fog in the mountains and made a big circle. When it came back again, there was no one in the forest, only two neat tombstones, close together.

Wen Chan saw that the words on the tombstone were outlined with a layer of gold, shining in the mottled sunlight.

On the left was Ah Chan, and on the right was Yanbei.

It was as if a sharp knife pierced straight into Wen Chan’s heart, and the pain made him tremble all over, and he wanted to cry out loud.

He never knew these.

He thought that Liang Yanbei had married his beloved wife and given birth to a beloved son. And after some twists and turns, the rest of his life would be peaceful and beautiful, with a full house of children and grandchildren.

But he took the little he had and walked through the prosperous and desolate scenes with his feet, carrying pain and longing, and he was alone until his death.

What Liang Yanbei had experienced, he could not see it completely through his bird’s eyes.

But Wen Chan really felt his love.

He finally couldn’t help it and burst out with a sob.

“Your Highness! Your Highness! You wake up!” Liang Yanbei’s voice came to his ears, and he suddenly opened his eyes, and all he saw was a blurry scene.

Liang Yanbei sat beside him, pulled him up, and held him in his arms, gently wiped away the tears from his eyes with his soft fingers, and asked softly, “Have you had a nightmare? Why have you been crying?”

Only then did Wen Chan realise that his eyes and face were full of tears.

His sluggish gaze focused the moment he saw Liang Yanbei, who was worried, and he hugged Liang Yanbei’s waist tightly while crying and asking loudly, “Why! Why?”

Why did you do this to yourself?

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