In mid-April, the streets of the capital were still abuzz with the chaotic and thrilling disputes involving Lady Cheng, Young Master Gao, and the tangled affairs of cousins and relatives. Yet on this day, an even greater excitement erupted.
People crowded the streets, all frantically rushing in one direction, their hurried movements unsettling to those who saw them.
“What’s happening?”
Everyone was asking.
“Nothing, nothing.”
Strangely, those who were questioned didn’t share what they knew with their usual enthusiasm and excitement. Instead, they shook their heads in unison, insisting that nothing was going on.
But their behavior suggested otherwise!
They continued running at top speed – no, even faster than before they were stopped -as if afraid someone else might get ahead of them.
What was even more peculiar was that some of them were carrying pots of all sizes.
Seeing the pots and noticing the direction everyone was running in, it finally dawned on someone what was really going on.
“Today is Maoyuan Mountain Sacrifice Day!”
The shout snapped everyone out of their daze. Instantly, with exclamations of realization, they joined the rush.
Of course, many still had no idea what was happening.
“What does Maoyuan Mountain Sacrifice Day matter?” they asked in bewilderment. “It’s just a family ceremony – why is everyone going to watch?”
“They’re giving out liquor! It’s the only day you can taste Maoyuan Mountain,” someone finally couldn’t resist shouting.
But this outburst drew angry curses and reproaches from those around him.
“There’s only so much Maoyuan Mountain to go around – the more people, the less each gets, you fool!”
Maoyuan Mountain!
The world’s most potent liquor, Maoyuan Mountain!
But the curses came too late. The crowd finally understood: Maoyuan Mountain, available only once a year – no wonder everyone was sprinting, no wonder they were all carrying containers.
More and more people flooded the streets, surging like a torrent toward the city gates.
The guards stationed at the city gate watched from their elevated position, witnessing the terrifying human tide with perfect clarity.
“It’s even more crowded than the funeral procession back then,” one guard remarked with a sigh.
“Who would have thought that even after all this time, someone could still draw such an impressive crowd?” Another guard couldn’t help leaning against the wall to get a better look. “A spectacle like this makes a life well worth living.”
Of course, not everyone was impressed.
“That’s only because of Maoyuan Mountain liquor.”
But his comment found little agreement.
“What does the reason matter? When this liquor is recorded in history, the story of the Maoyuan Mountain brothers will inevitably be part of it.”
“Exactly. If I could achieve something like this, I wouldn’t care whether it was because of liquor or plain water.”
“You? You’d better start by figuring out how to find a sister like theirs first.”
The city wall erupted in laughter.
“What’s going on here!”
The officer’s voice cut through from nearby.
The guards immediately stifled their laughter, forming up into their posts to resume their duties. Yet, their gazes still drifted unconsciously toward the distant Maoyuan Mountain tomb. A massive crowd had already gathered there, and it seemed the liquor distribution had begun, stirring waves of commotion.
However, the noise and chaos did not disturb the ceremony taking place at the tomb.
Under Fan Jianglin’s guidance, Cheng Jiao-niang and Lady Huang performed the rituals, then helped Xiao Bao’er offer wine to Xu Bangchui and the others before kowtowing.
Xiao Bao’er, growing impatient from being restrained, started playing by the tombstone instead. Lady Huang quickly scolded him to stop.
“Let him play,” Fan Jianglin said. “In a way, it’s like keeping his father company.”
Lady Huang couldn’t bear these words. She turned away to wipe her tears.
Fan Jianglin handed a stack of joss paper to Cheng Jiao-niang, watching as she tossed it into the burning basin.
“Sister, what are your thoughts on the marriage proposal?” he suddenly asked.
With the Gao family seeking an imperial marriage decree from the Empress Dowager, and the Zhou family’s sixth son swearing to avenge the theft of his betrothed, the question of whether Cheng Jiao-niang would yield to authority and marry into the Gao family or reunite with her childhood sweetheart – her cousin – had become the talk of the capital. Betting houses were taking heavy wagers on the outcome.
Here in the cemetery, speaking of such everyday matters felt like letting the brothers who cared for her listen in.
“What childhood sweetheart?” Cheng Jiao-niang laughed.
In her youth, what accompanied her was the dim light of a lone lamp – not a playmate.
Fan Jianglin laughed too.
“Just gossip from the streets. It sounds more captivating that way,” he said with a smile.
“The young master has learned to jest,” Ban Qin chimed in from behind.
The atmosphere at the graveside lightened, as if even the cold tombstone had softened.
“And what are your thoughts?” Fan Jianglin asked.
“I haven’t given it any thought,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Just as expected…
Ban Qin lowered her head with a slight smile as she tossed a stack of joss paper into the burning basin.
“Then… which one will you marry?” Fan Jianglin pressed.
“Either is fine,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “I haven’t thought about it.”
Either is fine!
Fan Jianglin felt a surge of frustration. What kind of answer was that? He should have let Lady Huang ask instead, but she was too timid to bring it up.
“Then have you ever considered what kind of person you’d like to marry?” he asked.
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled and shook her head.
“Why would I need to think about that?” she said.
“Nothing to think about?” Fan Jianglin gave a light cough. “What woman doesn’t think about marriage? It’s a major event that affects your entire life. How can you not give it any thought?”
Cheng Jiao-niang laughed heartily.
“Brother, how is this a major life event?” she replied with a smile.
“Sister,” Lady Huang couldn’t stay silent any longer.
This sister, it was said, had lived in a Taoist temple since childhood, growing up with a dulled mind. No one had taught her, no one had spoken to her about matters of womanhood, and her understanding of human relationships had always been peculiar. So, perhaps she simply didn’t grasp the significance of it all.
“A woman’s marriage is the affair of a lifetime, a matter that determines her lifelong happiness,” she explained. “You can’t just marry anyone carelessly, nor can you marry just anyone. It requires careful and deliberate selection.”
“Just like how you chose my brother?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked with a slight smile.
Lady Huang’s face flushed, and she glanced at Fan Jianglin.
“Yes,” she nodded. “By choosing your brother, I have been blessed in this life.”
Fan Jianglin also looked somewhat uncomfortable.
“We’re talking about you. Why bring this up?” he said, feigning displeasure.
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled faintly.
“Sister-in-law was just fortunate,” she said.
“It wasn’t just fortune – I chose well. That’s why you must choose carefully too. You can’t marry just anyone,” Lady Huang insisted.
No, anyone would do. They’re all the same.
Cheng Jiao-niang shook her head.
Even if it were an enemy who had destroyed her family and brought ruin upon them, her father could still force her to marry them – so what kind of person couldn’t she marry? What makes marriage such a significant matter?
“Brother, Sister-in-law, who do you want me to marry?” she asked.
Fan Jianglin and Lady Huang exchanged a glance. Asking us?
“What we want doesn’t matter. It’s about what you want,” Lady Huang said.
“Me?” Cheng Jiao-niang replied. “I truly haven’t thought about it. To me, aside from one thing, everything else is trivial – so trivial it’s not even worth thinking about.”
So, the young lady does have something on her mind, something she desires.
Ban Qin felt both excited and curious.
“What is it?” she couldn’t help asking.
“Staying alive,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
“Staying alive?”
Fan Jianglin and Lady Huang looked somewhat surprised.
“Miss, is staying alive that difficult?” Ban Qin asked.
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded.
“Very difficult,” she said.
Ensuring the bloodline of the Cheng family endures three hundred years later, ensuring their survival – is exceedingly difficult.
She turned toward the tombstone, tossed a stack of joss paper into the burning basin, and watched as thick smoke billowed upward.
Fan Jianglin also looked at the tombstone and fell silent.
Yes, staying alive is not easy. One moment, full of life; the next, a cold tombstone – and that person is gone from this world forever.
Death is death. Gone is gone.
He lowered his head and said no more, silently adding his own joss paper to the flames.
…
What a formidable mountain.
Duke Jin’an reined in his horse as he gazed at the mountain before him.
“Indeed, it’s easily defensible and hard to assault,” he remarked. The mountain wind whistled fiercely, whipping his cloak around him.
“Your Highness,” several officials behind him caught up, their faces etched with worry as they urged anxiously, “Please, let’s not go any further. It’s too dangerous.”
Duke Jin’an gave a faint smile.
“It’s fine. If the Shi Tang Fortress dares to propose this, it shows their sincerity. I trust their good faith,” he said, reaching down to touch the sachet hanging at his waist. Then, he spurred his horse forward at a gallop.
“Hurry, keep up! Keep up!”
The officials hastily urged their own group onward. A dozen or so guards galloped after the duke, stirring up clouds of dust along the mountain path.
The group waited with growing anxiety when, before long, they saw the party that had ridden out now returning.
“Sir, His Highness took only four men into the stronghold and ordered us to turn back,” the leader reported.
At these words, the faces of those present shifted once again.
“This is utterly reckless!”
“How could this be allowed?”
“If something goes wrong, what are we to do?”
Amid the anxious discussions, one official snorted coldly.
“What are we to do?” he said sternly, his expression dark. “The Duke ignored our advice and stubbornly charged ahead for the sake of merit. If something really happens, what can you or I possibly do about it?”
Well, that was true…
The officials exchanged glances.
They hadn’t forced him to go. If anything went wrong, it would be his own fault. Trying to drag them down with him? Not so easily.
“Deploy troops to surround Shi Tang Fortress and await further orders.”
The night was deep and heavy. At the foot of the mountain, torches flickered restlessly. Inside the erected tents, no one was resting. Not only had Duke Jin’an not returned, but he had also sent word that he intended to stay overnight in the stronghold.
“Has he been detained, or is it truly as the messenger said – that he’s getting along so well with the two leaders of Shi Tang that he decided to stay the night?”
“Does he think he’s Zhuge Liang and the other side is Sima Yi? Such contrived mystery -this isn’t an opera!” [1]
“This is sheer recklessness!”
“Even if we wanted to storm the stronghold, it’s impossible to launch an attack so late at night.”
“This Duke Jin’an truly has no sense of proportion…”
Everyone frowned, anxious and debating, yet utterly helpless.
“Let’s wait until dawn. No matter what happens by then,” one official interjected solemnly, cutting through the discussion, “we must assault the stronghold.”
The others nodded in agreement.
If the duke came to harm, they would have to attack the stronghold. If he remained unharmed, they would still have to storm it. Regardless of the outcome, they were all resolved to demonstrate their unwavering loyalty.
The official stood outside the tent, stroking his beard as he gazed at the pitch-black mountain, a faint, almost imperceptible cold smile playing on his lips.
Besides, by that time, the matters that needed to be dealt with would already be finished.
Thud. Another dull sound echoed, and one more of his men collapsed before him.
Though everything was shrouded in complete darkness, Duke Jin’an could still sense that the attendants he had brought with him had all fallen.
Footsteps slowly approached him.
“Your Highness, do you have any last words?” a man’s voice asked, cold and sinister.
“So the two masters of Shi Qang are this cowardly after all,” Duke Jin’an replied. His voice was calm, even carrying a faint hint of a smile, as though he were still seated at the banquet earlier – not trapped inside a room, his attendants slain, with arrows aimed at him from the windows and doorway, moments from death.
“Your Highness is mistaken,” the man’s voice replied coolly. “If we were truly cowardly, this situation would never have occurred. Consider this a lesson for you, Your Highness. In the future, it would be wiser to act with a bit more caution.”
Duke Jin’an gave a soft laugh.
“Thank you for the advice,” he said. “However, since you are not cowardly, why don’t we light a lamp? You should at least let me see the face of my killer before I die. I am, after all, a duke – it would be too pitiful to die without even that.”
The man burst into laughter.
“Your Highness, do you really think seeing my face will make your death any less pitiful?” he jeered, his tone dripping with mockery.
Someone stepped forward and whispered into the man’s ear.
“…We searched him on his way up the mountain. His guards hid concealed weapons, but they’re all dead now. This duke carries no weapons on him.”
Hearing this, the man’s smile widened.
“Very well. Not only will we let you have a look, but we’ll even grant you the chance to speak your last words…” he said.
“My thanks,” Duke Jin’an replied. The rustle of clothing could be heard as he stood up. The men, now accustomed to the darkness, could clearly make out the tall outline of his figure rising.
“Truly, you are a pitiable excuse for a duke…” the man sneered.
Before his words fully faded, a spark flared in the darkness – a firestarter had been struck.
The sudden brightness made the man instinctively narrow his eyes, but the flame died almost instantly, leaving only a faint, glowing ember.
The ember pulsed with a faint light, accompanied by a faint hissing sound, as if something were burning.
“Hey, Your Highness, what kind of firestarter are you using? It went out before it could even light anything. Seems it’s just your fate to die without seeing our faces. Time to send you on your final journey…” the man said with a cold laugh, raising his crossbow and aiming it at the dark silhouette.
Just as the words “final journey” left his lips, a deafening boom erupted beside him, and a blinding flash of light burst forth.
A blood-curdling scream followed.
The blast, powerful enough to shake the entire room, stunned everyone present.
What had happened?
The other men standing by the door, still gripping their crossbows, stared in shock at their comrade collapsed beside them. The air was thick with the smell of blood and the choking scent of smoke and gunpowder.
Before their eyes, the glowing ember sparked to life again, hissing ominously.
What was that thing?
“…This is called a ‘zike.’ It contains gunpowder inside… You load it into the tube… This is the fuse… You ignite it like this…”
“This way, if you ever find yourself face-to-face with a murderer, you might stand a fighting chance.”
Duke Jin’an aimed the fire tube at the stunned men frozen in the doorway, who still had no idea what was happening.
“Time for your final journey,” he said.
Another deafening BOOM erupted.
The entire stronghold shook violently. Everyone rushed over in a panic.
“Chief! Chief!”
Amid the chaos, two men who had come running skidded to a halt. They stared at the sudden blaze rising before them. In the firelight, figures wailed and fell. And in the flickering glow, the young man standing solemnly outside the house, his hands at his sides, looked as though an immortal had descended to earth.
“What was that?”
“How did a fireball shoot out with just a loud blast?”
“He was clearly empty-handed!”
“What is that thing?”
Screams and shouts filled the air. The deafening roar, the fireball appearing out of nowhere, the fallen men, and the young man strolling out calmly to stand composed – all delivered an indescribable shock to everyone in the darkness.
“That’s… that’s divine protection!” the two fortress chiefs stammered, dropping to their knees with a thud and kowtowing repeatedly.
“It’s divine protection! He’s shielded by the gods!”
The thunderous noise from the mountain alarmed those below. People rushed out in panic, staring upward. The clamor from the night sky drifted down on the wind.
“What happened?”
Terrified and unsettled, they hesitated no longer.
“Up the mountain!”
Following the command, torches snaked up the mountainside like a long, fiery dragon.
The official stood before his tent, the torches on either side illuminating his livid face and stunned expression.
Damn it, what just happened?
Translator’s Notes:
[1] Zhuge Liang and Sima Yi were two brilliant military strategists and statesmen during the Three Kingdoms period (c. 220-280 AD). Their rivalry is one of the most famous in Chinese history, immortalized in the classic novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Think of their relationship as a legendary, high-stakes game of chess between two geniuses, where the fate of nations hung in the balance.
