Chapter 118: The Pain of Parting from You
“No!”
The long spear, raised high, came to an abrupt halt at Diaoxiu’er’s voice.
“General, let them go…”
Lü Bu looked down on the few before him as if they were insignificant ants, his voice thunderous: “Leave.”
The few household guards, as if granted a great pardon, scrambled away from the Situ Mansion without daring to look back.
“If the general kills them, it will surely provoke Tutor Dong’s wrath,” Diaoxiu’er whispered.
“Alas, Xiu’er is still too kind-hearted. Once these men return, they will surely exaggerate and report to the Tutor. Then General Lü’s situation will become even more perilous,” Wang Yun sighed.
“What should we do then?” Diaoxiu’er’s face changed; she did not know why she cared so much about Lü Bu.
It wasn’t exactly infatuation; perhaps something he said that day touched her deeply. Could it be that she had known him long ago? But where had those childhood memories gone?
“Lü Bu has come to seek guidance from the Situ.”
“General, please!”
Two cups of clear tea filled the reception room with a lingering fragrance.
“…The Tutor has summoned me to a banquet at his residence,” Lü Bu informed Wang Yun of the earlier events.
“No banquet is ever truly good, General… You are now at the brink of despair.”
“Why?” Lü Bu trusted Wang Yun’s words implicitly.
“Do you know what happened yesterday?”
“What happened?”
“The Tutor invited Zhang Yu, Marquis Wuji, to a banquet at Meiwu.”
Wang Yun emphasized the words “invited” and “banquet” heavily.
“I had heard about this as well. Previously, Zhang Yu attempted to assassinate my foster father, yet my foster father still holds no grudge—”
“Ridiculous! Are you really so naive, General?” Wang Yun snapped. “Even the common folk know this is a trap akin to the Hongmen Banquet! Yulang left behind the verse, ‘I draw my sword and laugh to the heavens; whether I live or die, my heart remains as vast as Kunlun.’ Do you truly believe he is going to a feast?”
Lü Bu was momentarily speechless.
“To be frank, I have received news that the Tutor served poisoned wine at the banquet. I fear Yulang’s fate is grim.”
After speaking, Wang Yun rose and said, “General Lü, think carefully. Is this method not familiar? Another banquet, another poisoned cup—what would you do? Drink or refuse?”
“But he is my foster father, and he has treated me well…”
“But he wants you dead!”
“But he wants you dead!”
The words of Li Su and Wang Yun merged into a deafening roar in Lü Bu’s mind, driving him nearly mad.
“Why!”
“Because of Xiu’er.”
“Li Wenyou is so clever. I suspect he persuaded Dong Zhuo to give Xiu’er to you, General. If Dong Zhuo refused, he would insist that Dong Zhuo kill you to eliminate future trouble!”
Wang Yun, once a fiery youth, now slammed the table and bellowed, “General, in Dong Zhuo’s eyes, you are worth less than a woman. Why continue to serve him? Moreover, can you bear to watch Xiu’er suffer his violation?”
---
“No, impossible! Situ, what should I do?”
“General, for now, the only way is to strike first—”
“But he is my foster father.”
“General! Your surname is Lü, his is Dong. What kind of father-son relationship is that? When he first drew his spear and then unsheathed his sword to strike at you without hesitation, did he care for a moment about filial bonds?”
The scene stirred a strange sense of déjà vu in Lü Bu.
“If I did not pity Xiu’er from his harm, nor could I bear to see a hero like you fall victim to his treachery, I would never have spoken these words! Saying this, my Wang family… alas!”
“Great thanks, Situ. Lü Bu will remember this forever. I vow that Xiu’er shall never suffer a single injustice in my life!” Lü Bu bowed deeply to Wang Yun.
Seeing the gravity of the moment, Wang Yun added fuel to the fire: “At this point, I will no longer conceal the truth. If you support the Han dynasty, you are a loyal minister, your name will be recorded in history, and your fame will last a thousand years. If you aid Dong Zhuo, you become a traitor, forever infamous!”
“I, Lü Bu, am willing to eliminate Dong Zhuo.”
“The continuation of our great Han relies entirely on your merits!” The white-haired old Situ knelt before Lü Bu, tears streaming down his face.
…
In the bamboo forest, a sorrowful melody lingered.
A graceful and delicate woman, dressed in white, blended seamlessly with the verdant bamboo stalks and leaves as if made for each other.
Her slender fingers curved and relaxed gently, a soft, clear stream of music flowing throughout the grove.
Within the melody lay sadness, longing, grievances, and countless subtle emotions that only a young woman could feel but not fully explain.
As she played, two crystal-clear tears slipped from her eyes, landing on the strings before being quickly shaken off.
Though the tears fell, the threads of emotion remained.
Suddenly, a flute sounded from within the forest.
Its notes came and went, near and far, bright and dim.
Suppressing the urge to turn, Cai Yan continued to play.
The flute and zither intertwined, resonating together as harmoniously and beautifully as that day’s “When Will the Moon Be Clear?”
When the song ended, her tears had vanished. Turning around, she saw a young man dressed in white, smiling gently behind her.
“You… came?”
“Yes.”
“Rumor has it you are already…”
“Almost, but luckily I’m handsome. They were so captivated by me they couldn’t bring themselves to harm me.”
“Ha, you’re shameless!”
“Alright, farewell said, I must go now.”
“Go? Where to?”
“Back to Hebei… home.”
Cai Yan’s expression changed rapidly, suddenly returning to the aloof demeanor she wore when she had swept away that day. Zhang Yu thought silently, “Not good, she’s still a stubborn tsundere.”
---
“Forgive me, Cai Yan, I will not see you off.”
Saying this, Cai Yan picked up her zither and prepared to leave.
“Miss Cai.”
“What is it?” She didn’t look back.
“Wait for me.”
“Wait for what?”
“I will speak with your father.”
“Ah?” Cai Yan was startled, turning sharply. “Who agreed to that? Your household already has a wife and concubines. Why trouble yourself with a poor woman like me?”
Zhang Yu was at a loss for words, breaking into a cold sweat.
He had intended to speak with Cai Yong to see if he would agree to bring his family to Hebei with him. Who better than a time traveler like himself to understand the undercurrents in Chang’an? If Cai Yong, the great scholar, were to fall afoul of Dong Zhuo for mere sighs, it would be a loss for the world and intolerable to Zhang Yu, who had received so much kindness and favor from Cai Zhonglang.
Yet, with Cai Yan’s words, how could he explain himself without losing face?
His hesitation was clear to Cai Yan, who, with tearful eyes, clutched her zither and started to run. But before she took two steps, she slipped.
A scream escaped her lips as she fell backward, the zither flying high from her arms.
At the moment she was about to hit the ground, Zhang Yu rushed forward like the wind, catching her in his arms with one hand.
“Thud!”
Using the top of his foot, Zhang Yu steadied the falling instrument, then gently cradled the zither’s player with outstretched arms.
Left hand on the zither, right arm around Cai Yan—such a scene was the epitome of a refined scholar in love. How enchanting!
Cai Yan stared at him blankly. Suddenly, the air grew quiet, so silent that only their breathing and heartbeat could be heard.
“I will talk to Cai Zhonglang and ask that you come with me to Hebei.”
“No… impossible. Father has labored for years and finally won Dong Zhuo’s favor, settling in the capital. How could he leave again? Besides, I… I—”
“Even if impossible, I will try my best. Just wait.”
“Wait for what?”
Zhang Yu said nothing, instead supporting her gently and heading toward Cai Yong’s residence.
Cai Yong was relieved to see him safe but reluctant to leave for Hebei. Zhang Yu, helpless, mentioned the looming chaos in Chang’an, but Cai Yong only smiled and said they would plan carefully when the time came.
Returning empty-handed, Zhang Yu bade farewell. Cai Yong personally escorted him outside the mansion, but Zhang Yu looked around and saw no sign of Cai Yan.
---
At the Cai Residence, the music room.
Rain drummed on banana leaves, clear and gentle.
The melody was lingering and plaintive, entwined with passion and sorrow.
Only two people in the world knew this tune.
It was called “Myth.”