Chapter 81: All the Hu and Di Are Wolves of Zhongshan

The courtyard of the third branch of the Ye family had only two buildings, front and back. Originally, the land was allotted for four buildings, but the dominant eldest branch had claimed it a few years ago. Now, with the decline of the eldest branch and the downfall of the Liu family, the land had returned to the third branch.

Standing at the doorway, Ye Chang glanced across the alley directly opposite the entrance. That was the residence of the third branch as well, but it now stood cold and deserted—since He Zhizhang’s visit, Ye Si and Lady Lu had experienced firsthand the network of connections Ye Chang possessed, and dared not make any more noise. Having received twenty ingots of silver, which was a considerable gain for them, they were planning to return to Bianzhou to regroup. The family kept to themselves, seldom appearing, and the village gossip about Lady Fang had subsided.

Ye Chang could now visit the second branch openly and without fear.

He knocked, and the door was opened by Xiang’er. At the sight of Ye Chang, her eyes curved into crescent moons.

“Good morning, sir! Sir, you’ve finally come, you must have been busy these days, right? Are you here to see Lady Fang? Sir…”

The sweet, syrupy term “sir” tumbled from her lips in a rapid stream, sending a warm, pleasant thrill through Ye Chang’s heart. Unable to resist, he took her hand.

“Sigh, I’ve been tied up for days by those uninvited guests. Today, having sent them off, I finally have time to pay my respects to sister-in-law, and to see Xiang’er. How have you been these days?”

“That’s a silly question, sir! When you travelled to Chang’an for nearly three months, Xiang’er and Chunming both stayed with Lady Fang and lived well.” Xiang’er replied with a sweet smile.

Ye Chang chuckled, realizing he had asked a foolish question. Lady Fang was far too clever to treat Xiang’er poorly.

He Zhizhang had stayed in Wolong Valley for ten days, spending each day roaming the mountains with Ye Chang. Though old and frail, his zest for exploration was high, giving Ye Chang no small measure of anxiety. Of course, scholars never traveled without their servants; He Zhizhang brought several household attendants, who carried him through difficult terrain.

After ten days, the five jars of wine Ye Chang had prepared were empty, and He Zhizhang could not be persuaded to stay longer. He departed without regret. Both knew, given He Zhizhang’s age, it was unlikely he would ever return north—this farewell might well be forever.

Du Fu also left; unlike He Zhizhang, Du Fu was more fascinated by the mechanical devices and architecture in Wolong Valley—whether waterwheels or rainbow aqueducts, he observed them with keen interest.

Once bustling, the valley was quiet again.

“I heard you’ve been cooking for those distinguished guests every day, but I never got a taste. You really favor outsiders!” Xiang’er complained softly, then cheerfully added, “Yesterday, Chunming and I went to gather chestnuts. We picked many large ones, and Chunming snuck quite a few to eat!”

As the girl chattered away, Ye Chang passed through the front courtyard and entered the rear. He cleared his throat and called loudly, “Sister-in-law, sister-in-law.”

“Come in.”

Lady Fang’s slightly languid voice drifted to him. Ye Chang whispered to Xiang’er, “Stay here, Xiang’er, and make sure no one eavesdrops.”

Xiang’er nodded, utterly trusting Ye Chang and knowing he had urgent matters to discuss with Lady Fang. She took up some embroidery, settled herself with a needle at the courtyard gate.

She had begun learning embroidery from Lady Fang, though Ye Chang knew Lady Fang’s own skills were rather average, only acquired after marrying Ye Shu.

“Sister-in-law.” Entering, he saw Lady Fang cradling the babbling little Lianghao, leaning lazily against the wall. Cinu rose to greet him, “Uncle.”

After sending Cinu out to play, Ye Chang bowed deeply to Lady Fang. “Thank you, sister-in-law.”

“Why thank me?”

“If you hadn’t intervened that day, I would have made a terrible fool of myself. To lose face before Master He and the others would have ruined my reputation. You preserved my good name—this kindness cannot go unacknowledged.”

“I did it not just for you, but for my own reputation. They engage in shameful schemes behind closed doors, hoping to sow discord between us, thinking I know nothing. If I’d done nothing, wouldn’t people see me as easy prey? For a widow and orphan, survival in this village would be impossible.”

“Since you had such plans, why didn’t you tell me in advance?” Ye Chang scratched his head, recalling the risky situation that day. He’d never considered Lady Lu’s ambiguous identity.

A faint flush colored Lady Fang’s fair face, a hint of pride in her tone. “You’re allowed to keep secrets from me, but I can’t plot against you even once?”

“When have I ever hidden anything from you?”

“Really?”

Seeing Lady Fang’s narrowed eyes, Ye Chang could only raise his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, from now on, I’ll never keep anything from you.”

Lady Fang smiled triumphantly. Born of noble stock, she had been forced by events to leave the high circles of Tang politics, and found a measure of balance in Ye Chang, making her quite content.

This renowned younger uncle, and yet she still got the better of him.

“Xiang’er and Chunming’s matters are settled. What puzzles me is why you gave them twenty ingots of silver. Given their actions, even if not as bad as the eldest branch, they certainly didn’t deserve any benefits!”

“After all, we spent four years as father and son. I was raised in the third branch for four years.”

Lady Fang expected such an answer, but her beautiful eyes narrowed, an unusual gleam flashing within.

“Eleventh Brother, you truly are kind-hearted.”

“Heh.”

“But being too kind isn’t always good… Well, that’s your affair.”

Though she said so, Lady Fang was deeply pleased. Both Ye Chang and Ye Shu were kind souls, but Ye Chang was cleverer and more responsible.

If he weren’t so kind, why would he go to such lengths for his brother—transporting Ye Shu’s coffin across a thousand miles, risking his life to kill Yang Fu and avenge Ye Shu?

“All is resolved now, we only wait for the clan leader to open the ancestral hall and announce it, then the matter will end. Eleventh Brother, from here on, the world is wide and your future boundless,” Lady Fang said.

“Thank you for your blessing, sister-in-law, but I already have a troublesome issue at hand and don’t know how to deal with it.”

Ye Chang was used to plotting his future alone. Things had gone smoothly, making him underestimate the intelligence of people in this era. Yet he had suffered losses at Han Chaozong’s hands, and been gently rebuffed by He Zhizhang, realizing these great figures were not famous by accident. Lady Fang’s masterful performance that day convinced him he could rely more on her wisdom.

“Tell me about it.”

Ye Chang explained his plan to use He Zhizhang’s reputation to promote printing, only for He Zhizhang to refuse.

“Eleventh Brother, how foolish you’ve been! Thank heavens for Master He, or who knows what disaster you might have caused!” At hearing the reason, Lady Fang’s face tightened, and she couldn’t help but scold Ye Chang.

“Uh… Is it really that serious?”

“Your method of punctuation is crucial, even determining the authoritative interpretation of Confucian classics. What is your status now, to meddle in such things? When Kong Yingda debated scholars in the Sui era, he became famous, yet the outcome was an assassination attempt by rival scholars! If not for Yang Xuangan’s protection, he’d have died without a trace!”

Ye Chang knew the anecdote vaguely, but not as thoroughly as Lady Fang. Hearing her recite it so casually, he was amazed—scholarly disputes weren’t mere words; they often turned bloody.

“Your punctuation method clearly aims to control the interpretation of Confucian and Taoist texts. Master He saw through it at once. Such a thing would offend the imperial court above and arouse the jealousy of scholars below. How could someone as smart as you take such a reckless path!” Lady Fang grumbled, “Even if Master He gave you the wrong advice, you could become the leader of all scholars, but you’d never control the interpretation of the classics—it would cut off livelihoods!”

“Sister-in-law!”

Ye Chang’s face flushed with embarrassment, unable to restrain himself. Lady Fang realized she was almost lecturing him like a child.

She covered her mouth and laughed softly. “Don’t be angry, Eleventh Brother.”

“I know my mistake now. The question is, I must promote this method… Do you have any clever ideas?”

Lady Fang gasped, “You still want to push it?”

Ye Chang nodded. From his gaze, Lady Fang saw his resolve and hesitated.

She knew him well—gentle in nature but stubborn. Once he decided, nothing could deter him. Even if she didn’t help, he would find a way.

“That’s difficult… I really don’t know what to do,” Lady Fang murmured. “Eleventh Brother, I can only advise you. You want to print Confucian and Taoist classics with horizontal layout and punctuation?”

“I did, but now I dare not. I want to promote my method, but I don’t want to be assassinated.”

“What about Buddhist scriptures?”

“Confucian and Taoist forces are too strong, and so are the Buddhists. If I print Buddhist texts, even Shanzhi might come after me.”

At this, Ye Chang drooped with frustration. These historical figures were real people, each with their own interests and agendas. To have them act entirely as he wished was impossible.

“Master He refused to let you print his poems with this method, so other literati, if sensible, won’t allow it either. If you print against their will, you’ll be attacked. If poetry can’t be printed, prose is even less likely. Truly a dilemma.”

Lady Fang rose to ponder, unconsciously placing the little girl into Ye Chang’s arms. The child was affectionate, climbing all over him and trying to pinch his face. Ye Chang was patient and let her play. Lady Fang turned to see this, and suddenly inspiration struck.

“If you can’t print those, why not start with something else?” She smiled. “I remember the tales you told to Cinu, Xiang’er, and the others—stories!”

Cinu, Xiang’er, Chunming, and the six new boys adored Ye Chang largely because he was full of stories, both native to Tang and brought from ‘One Thousand and One Nights,’ Aesop, Andersen, and others.

“Exactly—stories!”

Ye Chang slapped his thigh. In the Tang dynasty, the genre of short stories—‘chuanqi’—had emerged from Jin-era anecdotes. It was still in its infancy, but would flourish during the Niu-Li faction struggles. This new genre perfectly suited his purpose!

Moreover, these stories were ideal for performers in taverns and city streets. Some of these entertainers could read, but their literacy was limited; punctuation would help them understand the stories.

Beyond short stories, Ye Chang could write longer ones. He had plenty of material—if he had enough free time, he could recreate ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms’ and ‘Dream of the Red Chamber.’ ‘Three Kingdoms’ would be wildly popular in this romantic age, though ‘Dream of the Red Chamber’ might not.

“But there’s no one to write these stories,” Ye Chang soon realized, troubled.

He could tell them, but turning oral tales into literary stories was difficult. It wasn’t impossible, but his literary style was lacking, which diminished their charm, and it would require too much time and effort.

“If you trust me, I could write them for you.”

“Sister-in-law?”

“In the past, Lady Shangguan was renowned for her writing. I’m not her equal, but I can manage.”

At this, Lady Fang’s expression showed eager anticipation. Ye Chang was delighted. “Excellent!”

They discussed the details for a while, finally deciding on the title ‘New World Tales,’ borrowing from ‘Shishuo Xinyu.’ The first volume would contain twenty stories, selected from those Ye Chang narrated and Lady Fang edited and compiled.

Both were decisive by nature, so Ye Chang immediately began considering the opening story. After thinking for some time, he recalled the assassination attempt he had suffered in Chang’an—though the perpetrators were never confirmed, clues from the arrows led him to suspect the group of Hu people who had followed him. After the attack, they disappeared, making them highly suspect.

This led him to reflect on the An Lushan Rebellion, the turning point from the height to the decline of the Tang dynasty. Suddenly, Ye Chang found inspiration for a story.

“In the Spring and Autumn period, Lord Jian of Zhao went hunting in Zhongshan…”

Lady Fang had been smiling, but as he finished the story of the ‘Wolf of Zhongshan,’ her smile faded, her gaze sharp and intent on Ye Chang.

“What’s wrong, sister-in-law? Is the story unsuitable?”

“No, it’s very suitable… But, Eleventh Brother, are you equating An Lushan and the Hu barbarians with the wolf?”

Her question left Ye Chang dumbfounded, stunned.

He had thought his subtle meaning was well hidden in the tale, but not only did Lady Fang see through it at once, she even named An Lushan!

Could it be that Tang-era women were all so formidable and perceptive?