Chapter 245: Why Are You Coming, Xianxian?
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
"Don't you wish you'd had more time with her?"
"Too much of a good thing can be a problem too."
"Those toothbrushes you made... I'd like one."
Fan Xian was a little surprised. He hadn't expected such a demand from her. He forced a smile. "As far as I know, they sell them on Xiushui Street."
Haitang smiled. "Not the ones you make."
"You're too kind."
"I never thought that the son of a noble family like you would care about such things." Haitang looked at Fan Xian as if she were trying to see him anew.
Fan Xian slowly closed his eyes. "You clearly don't know much about me."
Haitang was silent for a moment. "But I do know that you're going home after the Empress Dowager's birthday," she said. "What are you going to do about the promise you made to me?"
There was a look of reluctance in Fan Xian's eyes. "Let me sleep on it, and I'll come talk to you later."
Haitang frowned. "Very well."
Fan Xian suddenly opened his eyes. "I don't feel too well today, so I'm not up for talking."
"Farewell." It was the first time Haitang had seen such a cold and indifferent expression on Fan Xian's face, but she made no response, and simply left.
Fan Xian lay down on the large bed, clearly exhausted, and yet he couldn't sleep. He looked calm, but his mind was racing. There wasn't enough time to work through everything he had heard and felt the night before. He opened his bright, clear eyes, and looked at the embroidered veil that hung over the bed. It was as if he wanted to penetrate the roof with his gaze, breaking through the clouds to the Ninth Heaven, shooting up into the distant sky.
Since they had confirmed that Fan Xian was in the diplomatic mission, for Northern Qi, that begged the question - who was it who had tried to save Xiao En on top of the cliff? Suspicions were naturally raised.
Lang Tao, Friar He, and Shen Zhong sat around a table with deep frowns on their faces. Of the three of them, Shen Zhong's position was most senior, but Lang Tao was a disciple of Ku He as well as being the martial tutor of the young Emperor, so his status was highest. Friar He seemed rather taciturn.
Yesterday, after the two of them had forced Xiao En and Fan Xian over that precipice, the Brocade Guard had begun a secret search in the area surrounding Shangjing. To their surprise, a day and a night's worth of effort had not produced any results. Early in the morning, they had given up and asked the palace for assistance in entering the diplomatic mission where, astonishingly, they had found Fan Xian lying in bed!
"Could it be that it wasn't Fan Xian?" Friar He's pale face looked even paler. Although the poison that had entered his leg had been expelled, he had still experienced significant damage to his zhenqi.
"It was definitely Fan Xian," said Lang Tao, his eyes closed. "An expert in the use of poison, and needles, and all those little tricks. Who else could it be?"
Friar He frowned. "But that person didn't look like Fan Xian."
"People can disguise themselves," said Lang Tao, opening his eyes.
Lang Tao had special status, so when he spoke, people rarely doubted him. But the fact was that Fan Xian had been right there in the diplomatic mission. If the person who had thrown himself off that cliff was him, then how could he have escaped without a scratch? Unless he was some kind of demigod.
Shen Zhong couldn't help but doubt Lang Tao's judgment, but he retained his demeanor as an affable old rich man. "It most likely was Fan Xian, because the one who colluded with Shang Shanhu was a southerner, and only a southerner could know so much about the situation. It couldn't have been one of the masters from the City of Dongyi."
Seeing Friar He disagreeably shake his head, Shen Zhong laughed. "Of course, it could have been someone else."
"If not Fan Xian, then who?" asked Lang Tao quietly. He didn't care much for talking with these agents of the state. If this matter hadn't involved Xiao En, then he wouldn't have bothered leaving the palace to assist the Brocade Guard.
Shen Zhong looked at Lang Tao with a broad smile. "Master Lang Tao, there are a great many masters in Qing too. As for the question of methods... I think you once said yourself that Chen Pingping always has an assassin by his side known as the Shadow, but no one has ever seen him, and no one knows of his methods and practices. Since Fan Xian is a commissioner of the Overwatch Council, then he has some connection to that Shadow's methods... In that case, the one who attacked you on that cliff may not have been Fan Xian, but that Shadow."
The Shadow was Chen Pingping's personal bodyguard. Although no one had seen him, as the spymaster of Northern Qi, Shen Zhong naturally knew of his existence.
"It doesn't matter who it was," spat Friar He. "The most important thing right now is that we confirm Xiao En's death."
"Xiao En is dead."
Lang Tao spoke calmly. When Fan Xian, dressed all in black, had made his rescue attempt, he remembered that his curved blade had already struck Xiao En in the chest. He was confident that the force of his blade was enough to cut Xiao En's life short.
Shen Zhong smiled. "Very well. The grandmaster and the Empress Dowager will be very pleased. I wish to express my gratitude to both of you."
The sun was sinking below the western city wall of Shangjing, as it had done for millennia. A slight warm breeze rustled the drooping leaves of the trees, drifting through the houses of the city, whirling around people's bodies, brushing past those silent tree trunks.
After night fell, the breeze cooled. Fan Xian, wearing a simple robe, stood by a tree in the rear courtyard of the diplomatic mission compound. He narrowed his eyes, looking at the first star that had appeared in the sky. In that weather, an unlined garment was fine, but he was still weary, so he felt a little chilly.
He carefully tore apart the letter in his hand. Unlike the way he had done it in the past, he didn't rip it up into a thousand tiny pieces, because the letter wasn't a confidential message from the Council, just a standard letter.
The letter was from Wan'er. Although news from home had flowed steadily from the north, this was the first time he had received a letter from his wife. He presumed she was waiting at home, somewhat worried. The Prime Minister, his father-in-law, had left his position; Dabao had moved into Fan Manor. Ruoruo was as unflappable as ever; it seemed that she wasn't worried by the news of the wedding in the slightest. His father was busy with court politics. All of this was in the letter.
There was no message expressing her yearning at the end of the letter, no urging him to return home. There were simply a few lines of poetry. "The summer night winds have stopped, and I toss and turn in bed, wounded in my dreams. I know that you will return soon, and my fine black hair has grown longer. When will our short absence be ended? I think of you for three days. Why are you coming, Xianxian? To immerse yourself in your books."
By "three days", she meant yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
Fan Xian smiled. He could feel how much she missed him in her letter, and her rare feeling of optimism made him feel comforted. He had been so busy the past few days in matters of espionage that he had barely thought about home. Occasionally, he would think about them and feel guilty.
He met up with Haitang the day after. For some reason, he found himself looking forward to their meeting.
It wasn't anything to do with romance. It was just a kind of pure anticipation. Fan Xian wanted to talk with her. To be more precise, he wanted to tell her everything about what had happened with Xiao En... but there was no way that he could.
There was a strange and remarkable feeling in his heart.
On that rainy night in the Qing capital, after he had opened the box, Fan Xian presumed that he would never be alone in this world again. After all, invisible traces of his mother were everywhere in this world. But now, he still found himself feeling alone, because those traces were still silent and intangible.
"Xiao En was right. I'm empty inside." Fan Xian felt as if he had no friends. He shook his head and walked into a side room.
Inside the room were Fan Xian, Yan Bingyun, and Wang Qinian. This was the last meeting of Overwatch Council members in Shangjing. Yan Bingyun looked calmly at Fan Xian. "Master Fan, did you find out?"
This was the situation that Fan Xian had anticipated. He had used all of the power of the Overwatch Council and Xinyang, and had found out Xiao En's secret, the one that everyone urgently wanted to discover, as he had teetered on the edge of death.
He frowned. "I was too late. Xiao En is dead."
There was a strange look in Yan Bingyun's eye which suddenly disappeared. He shook his head and sighed. "All of that planning for nothing. What a pity."
Fan Xian gave a mocking smile. "That old cripple spent 20 years and couldn't get it out of him. Did you think I'm some kind of god?"
He often called Chen Pingping "that old cripple" in front of Yan Bingyun. It was very rash and even clumsy threat, but in dealing with a man as intelligent as Yan Bingyun, this kind of recklessness was more useful.
He turned his head and spoke to Wang Qinian. "Prepare for the journey home."
"Yes sir," said Wang Qinian quietly. He paused for a moment, and then frowned. "Master," he asked, "what shall we do with the forgery you left in the room yesterday?"
Fan Xian knew he meant killing people to keep them quiet. He felt a little uneasy. "Take it back," he said.
Yan Bingyun shook his head disapprovingly. "And if it were to be discovered by the northerners?"
"If it's discovered, then what?" Fan Xian looked at Yan Bingyun, a hint of mockery in his voice. "It'll be a mess, of course. Even if it were discovered, what could we do? You were imprisoned for a year; this wouldn't take much more courage."
Yan Bingyun and Wang Qinian looked at each other. Seeing that Fan Xian seemed to be in a sour mood, they remained silent. Fan Xian looked at the two of them and suddenly sighed. "Did you think Haitang wouldn't see? She's left me no other choice."
Wang Qinian went off with his order to prepare for the journey home. Fan Xian was silent for a moment. "After the Empress Dowager's birthday feast, we will set out straight away... I'm feeling rather homesick."