Chapter 31: The Most Difficult Loneliness Is the Absence of Kindness (Part Two)

Zhang Chi was still somewhat angry, but upon hearing Miss Wang speak so sincerely, he felt a pang of pity. He tried to hate her, yet somehow, when faced with such a woman, he found it impossible to harbor any resentment in his heart.

“Miss, since you know that the great dragon in your endgame has lost all hope, why not concede early and seek a retreat? When the edifice is about to collapse, a single beam cannot hold it up. If the realm is destined for chaos, why do you persist so painstakingly in propping it up?”

“When the edifice is about to collapse, a single beam cannot hold it up. Your words are indeed brilliant,” Miss Wang replied with a faint smile. “But everyone has their responsibilities. There are things one must do, even knowing they are impossible, simply because they are your duty.”

“Is it truly your responsibility to preserve the stability of the realm?” Zhang Chi found it hard to understand—how could the fate of the empire weigh upon a frail woman?

“Xie Gong of Mount Dongshan is actually my maternal grandfather,” Miss Wang suddenly said.

Zhang Chi was startled, but then recalled the words of the old Taoist who had recently divined his fate for him, and understood: Dongshan Xie Gong must be Xie An, and Miss Wang was indeed Xie An’s granddaughter. As expected, Miss Wang continued, “Among the noble families in court today, aside from the Xie family, which one does not secretly harbor rebellious intentions? Only my grandfather, in his day, always placed the greater good above all else, never forming factions or seeking personal gain, able to refuse the powerful and yet willingly support the state. Thus, the legendary tale arose of him repelling Fu Jian’s million-strong army—‘On Mount Bagong, even the grass and trees are soldiers.’ After retiring, he was honored by the world as a paragon of purity.”

Hearing her words, Zhang Chi couldn’t help but nod in respect. He held Xie An in high esteem. He could be ignorant of the Wei and Jin dynasties, but not of Xie An, whose brilliance alone could illuminate a century of history.

“But now,” Miss Wang continued, “the Xie family’s loyalty in supporting the Jin dynasty has instead become a source of disaster. Whether noble families or the Way of Five Pecks of Rice, those who rebel will first bring calamity to the Xie clan. Whenever chaos erupts, the descendants of Xie will surely be slaughtered. Though I lack the power to change the world, how can I stand idly by?”

After hearing this, Zhang Chi found himself completely unable to hate Miss Wang. Instead, a wave of emotion washed over him—the truth of prosperity turning to decline was undeniable. In their heyday, the Xie family was unrivaled in talent and elegance, but now, their fate had fallen so low as to depend on the tireless efforts of a woman from outside the family.

“The swallows that once graced the halls of Wang and Xie, now fly into the homes of ordinary folk,” Zhang Chi murmured.

“The swallows that once graced the halls of Wang and Xie, now fly into the homes of ordinary folk. The splendor of noble families will eventually disperse after centuries, and among the common people, heroes will arise. I now increasingly believe, sir, that you may be the legendary ‘Heaven’s Secret’ born from humble origins,” Miss Wang said.

The Wang and Xie families were already in decline; now, the rise of commoners and the soon-to-be-dominant masses marked the era. Zhang Chi, though unfamiliar with Eastern Jin history, knew that the man who ended its chapter did indeed come from humble origins—not named Zhang Chi, but Liu Yu.

He had crossed time and space, so he knew, but for Miss Wang, living in her own era, to possess such foresight, Zhang Chi could not help but admire her vision.

While Zhang Chi admired Miss Wang, in truth, Miss Wang was also admiring Zhang Chi.

What she admired most was the phrase, “The swallows that once graced the halls of Wang and Xie, now fly into the homes of ordinary folk.” Beyond its profound meaning about the decline of noble clans and the rise of the masses, its poetic elegance was enough to move her to prolonged reflection.

The brilliance of the Wang and Xie families was fading, no wonder Zhang Chi could be mentioned alongside Cao Zhi and Wang Xizhi as part of the “Three Eternal Wonders.” With such talent, who else could claim poetic mastery?

“The swallows that once graced the halls of Wang and Xie, now fly into the homes of ordinary folk.” Miss Wang softly recited the line, then slowly said, “The splendor of noble families will eventually disperse after centuries, and among the common people, heroes will arise. I now increasingly believe, sir, that you may be the legendary ‘Heaven’s Secret’ born from humble origins.”

Her words were spoken from the heart, but Zhang Chi felt a bit embarrassed. He knew he had merely borrowed them. Still, he was somewhat uneasy about being used by Miss Wang, and he forced a bitter smile. “Even if I am ‘Heaven’s Secret,’ what does it matter? I am still but a piece in your game.”

Miss Wang could hear the teasing in his tone; her cheeks flushed slightly, and after a moment, she smiled. “Sir, your talent is truly admirable. I have always sincerely respected you. Yet there are many things I must do because of my position. In truth, I envy the women of ordinary families. If I were not Miss Wang and you not ‘Heaven’s Secret,’ I would gladly accompany you in wandering mountains and rivers, drinking wine and reciting poetry, living freely beyond the world. That would be the most delightful life.”

The decline of ritual propriety in the Wei and Jin era meant there was little taboo between men and women, and customs were among the most open in China’s history. Still, after speaking, Miss Wang’s cheeks were as rosy as peach blossoms. From the moment she first saw Zhang Chi, she had felt an inexplicable fondness for him.

“Sadly, I was born tangled in the affairs of the Wang and Xie clans, and you are ‘Heaven’s Secret,’” Miss Wang said meaningfully.

“I’ve never admitted to being ‘Heaven’s Secret,’” Zhang Chi still found it hard to believe he truly was, shaking his head.

Miss Wang knew well his carefree nature and smiled. “I’m afraid it’s difficult for you not to be ‘Heaven’s Secret.’ Everyone already believes you are. Whether it’s the Way of Five Pecks of Rice, Wang Xun, or Huan Xuan, all those with rebellious intentions wish to kill you first, to secure their own ambitions. Those who rebel all claim to be ‘Heaven’s Secret,’ so how could they allow a second to exist? If you do not die, you will inevitably rise amidst these competing powers, and even if you are not ‘Heaven’s Secret’ now, you will become so in the end.”

Zhang Chi was stunned, realizing he’d come to such a crossroads. Reflecting on Miss Wang’s words, he saw that under the current circumstances, he truly had only one path—if he survived, he would inevitably become “Heaven’s Secret.”

He sighed, and upon further thought, suspected that this situation had been orchestrated by Miss Wang all along; perhaps he was being pushed into his role as ‘Heaven’s Secret’ by her schemes. Shaking his head, Zhang Chi said with resignation, “Miss, your strategy is indeed far-reaching. I only fear I am not ‘Heaven’s Secret,’ and that you have raised me too high—if I fall, it will hurt. With the chaos in Jiankang, being elevated as ‘Heaven’s Secret’ puts me in such danger that a single misstep could mean my complete destruction.”

Miss Wang listened to his words of pity and smiled. “You are mistaken, sir.”

Zhang Chi, hearing her say he was mistaken, breathed a long sigh of relief, thinking perhaps it was not as dire as he imagined, but still asked, “Oh? In what way am I mistaken?”

“The Way of Five Pecks of Rice has already raised its banner in rebellion, plotting to seize Jiankang. Gao Yazhi of the Northern Army has led eight thousand vanguard troops to the city. No matter who captures Jiankang, your destruction is certain, not just possible.”

Zhang Chi nearly coughed up blood at her wordplay.

Miss Wang, seeing his expression, laughed and said, “Actually, there’s no need to worry too much. I have no intention of putting you in harm’s way. Rather, I hope you seize this opportunity during the upheaval in Jiankang to make your name known throughout the realm. With your talents, would it not be a waste if you did not accomplish something great?”

A strong-willed woman. Zhang Chi felt helpless—he wanted to hate Miss Wang, but couldn’t; wanted to blame her, but had no grounds; his only thought was that the ancients were right: the hardest favor to bear is that of a beautiful woman.

“What should I do now?” Zhang Chi asked.

“Gao Yazhi of the Northern Army is approaching Jiankang,” Miss Wang analyzed. “When General Canghuai besieged you, Du Ximing and Young Master Ding led their troops and broke out; they are now camped thirty li north of the city. You should go to command the three armies and confront Gao Yazhi. If you break the undefeated reputation of the Northern Army, you’ll be famed throughout the realm for this victory.”

“But the Northern Army is undefeated—I fear I might not win,” Zhang Chi never overestimated himself.

Miss Wang smiled at his response. “You once compared the world to a cooking pot—now, Jiankang is also a pot. The soup boils only because the fire beneath burns hot, and Wang Xun and the Way of Five Pecks of Rice are fueling that fire. The key isn’t whether you defeat the Northern Army; as long as you make a show of force, I will remove the fuel from under the pot, and the soup will cease boiling. Without Wang Xun as an accomplice in the city, Gao Yazhi, with only eight thousand men, will be isolated and will have no choice but to retreat. You can win without fighting.”

Zhang Chi considered her words and found them sensible—a feat gained without risk. He nodded, and Miss Wang smiled. “If you quell the chaos in Jiankang before the pear blossoms bloom, I hope you’ll join me to drink wine, recite poetry, and enjoy the pear blossoms together.”

Zhang Chi laughed and said, “Why admire pear blossoms? In my hometown, the word ‘pear’ is synonymous with ‘parting,’ so it’s better not to admire them.”

Hearing this, Miss Wang suddenly stopped smiling, her face flushed slightly, and she softly murmured to herself, “If people do not part, then do not admire pear blossoms.”

But this quiet murmur was unheard by Zhang Chi.

Knowing that Miss Wang had arranged everything for him, Zhang Chi could only smile, though he felt helpless; he simply couldn’t be angry with her, which was unlike his usual temperament. The thought suddenly struck him—was it possible that, having traveled through a millennium, he had fallen for this woman of unparalleled intellect and beauty?

Absolutely not. He quickly dismissed the idea, but upon further thought, it didn’t seem entirely untrue.

Even he couldn’t say what was truly in his heart. Fortunately, Zhang Chi was easygoing and never dwelled on things. With a wry smile and a shake of his head, he set the matter aside.