Chapter 95: The Eve

As night fell, Ning Xiaoling lay on the table, counting copper coins one by one. She rested her head on her arm, looked at Ning Changjiu, and asked, "Brother, are you really not going to see Sister Xiang'er?"

"What's there to see about Zhao Xiang'er?" Ning Changjiu replied. "Now that she's empress, she probably looks down on everyone and no longer cares about poor relatives like us."

Ning Xiaoling chuckled, not believing him in the slightest.

Ning Changjiu was silent for a moment, then conceded, "Tomorrow is New Year's Eve. If tonight is peaceful, we'll go then."

"What could possibly be unpeaceful?" Ning Xiaoling asked.

Ning Changjiu teased, "Your big brother worries about the country and its people. What would a little girl like you understand?"

Ning Xiaoling gave a perfunctory smile. "Yes, yes, Brother is the best."

Ning Changjiu ignored the little girl's dismissiveness and asked, "It's the eve of the New Year today. Shall we go out for a walk?"

Ning Xiaoling still held a grudge about not being able to go to the imperial city immediately and replied listlessly, "Alright, it's better than staying cooped up at home."

"I heard there's a River God Lantern Festival tonight," Ning Changjiu said. "The river lanterns will cover the entire Shasui River; it should be quite beautiful."

Ning Xiaoling nodded. "Yes, it's a pity Master isn't with us. It would have been more interesting."

Ning Changjiu chuckled, "Already so tired of your big brother?"

Ning Xiaoling shook her head. "Not at all. I just thought it's such a lovely day, and it's a real shame that Master is secluded in the mountain gate for cultivation."

"Your Master needs quiet to think about some things," Ning Changjiu explained. "The worldly beauty and prosperity might not be good for her."

"That old fox is truly despicable," Ning Xiaoling fumed.

Ning Changjiu patted her head and said, "So, you must work harder, little sister. When the Four Peaks Sword Tournament comes, you can bring more honor to your Master, right?"

Ning Xiaoling looked up and asked, "Aren't you going, Brother?"

Ning Changjiu's sleeves hung slightly as he replied, "I haven't even entered the Profound Realm. Wouldn't it be embarrassing if I went?"

Ning Xiaoling pouted, a little disheartened.

At night, big red lanterns hanging outside every household lit up. From a bird's-eye view of the city, the lanterns beneath the eaves and in front of the doors seemed to form a giant symbol. However, the light varied in intensity; some areas had only faint glimmering lights, while prosperous areas were as bright as day.

Ning Changjiu and Ning Xiaoling walked through the long street, past the bustling crowd, and leaned against a railing, gazing at the rolling river flowing in the winter.

The banks of the Shasui River were a hive of activity.

In winter, all things wither, blue tiles accumulate snow, and large lakes freeze, but the gurgling Shasui River continues to flow, seemingly unmoved by the winter's chill. Although there were rumors that countless malevolent spirits and ghosts were buried in the river, after all these years, no one had ever truly witnessed water spirits harming people. Even mountain spirits, which plagued many cities, were rare in Linhe City.

The people here believed this was due to the river god's protection, so many families would drink a bowl of raw water from the river during coming-of-age ceremonies.

Ning Changjiu leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the water, idly scratching at the railing with his fingernail.

Ning Xiaoling watched his movements and teased, "Brother, are you trying to carve 'I was here'?"

Ning Changjiu withdrew his hand and gave a helpless smile.

"Brother, is something on your mind?" Ning Xiaoling asked.

"Why do you ask?" Ning Changjiu replied.

Ning Xiaoling pursed her lips, then hesitated before speaking, "I just feel like you're a bit down."

"I'm not unhappy," Ning Changjiu said.

Ning Xiaoling drew out an "Oh" and said, "I don't think it's that great here after all. I still want to go back to the peak and listen to Master's lectures."

Ning Changjiu laughed, "Don't you dare delay your Master's cultivation, then."

Ning Xiaoling scoffed. "I'm Master's favorite inner disciple! Master is overjoyed whenever she sees me. What would an annoying outer disciple like you know?"

"Don't worry," Ning Changjiu chuckled, "I won't compete with Xiaoling for favor."

Ning Xiaoling stood proudly by the bridge, leaning forward against the railing. She reached out and plucked a resilient willow branch, stripped of its leaves, and twirled it around her fingers.

She gazed at the great river flowing through the city. This stretch of the Shasui River was much clearer than the outer river. Now, river lanterns drifted slowly from afar, their bright colors reflected in the water. The tall pavilions along the bank also mirrored in the water, stained with the enchanting glow of the lanterns.

Firecrackers exploded in continuous bursts. A group of children playfully ran by. Ning Xiaoling turned her head and happened to see a sedan chair with dark brown curtains slowly passing through the crowd. When the sedan chair stopped, the crowd surged forward in a frenzy.

An elderly man, past his sixtieth year, stepped out of the sedan chair, assisted by guards. He took a green walking stick from a side attendant and leaned on it as he walked toward the river. The crowd naturally parted to create a path for him.

Ning Changjiu glanced from afar and said, "That must be some great scholar or a local official."

Ning Xiaoling looked at his wrinkled, spotted face. "Everyone seems to respect him very much."

"Today is the River Lantern Festival," Ning Changjiu said. "Distinguished figures from all sides will come to see the lanterns and make wishes. You can also release a lantern and make a wish later, little sister."

Ning Xiaoling pouted, "That won't work, will it?"

With a snap, Ning Xiaoling tore off the willow branch she was holding and twirled it around. Suddenly, a commotion erupted to their right. Ning Xiaoling turned her head and saw the topmost floor of the singing hall lighting up, one lamp after another. From afar, one could see flowing light and shadows within the eight-sided, exquisite pavilion: the graceful figures of women playing the zither, and the enchanting forms of women dancing elegantly.

"What are they doing?" Ning Xiaoling asked, confused.

Ning Xiaoling's voice was drowned out by the roar of the crowd. Passersby, at the moment the lights came on, surged madly towards the singing hall.

Ning Changjiu also cast his gaze in that direction. Inside the pavilion, the lights illuminated lively, dancing shadows, while discussions around them grew loud and noisy.

"They say today is Miss Quan's 'combing' ceremony. Feihua Pavilion has been building up this event for so long, and finally, we'll get to see Miss Quan's true face. They say she's extraordinarily beautiful."

"Why did they choose today of all days?"

"These days are already lively. Everyone has money to spare at the end of the year, and those rich young masters are all ready to spend a fortune. Feihua Pavilion is known as a money pit. If they don't seize this bustling time to make a profit, wouldn't all the hype built around Miss Quan over the past six months have been for nothing?"

"No matter what, Miss Quan is just a singing girl. Could she really be that exaggeratedly beautiful?"

By the Shasui River, the old man remained seemingly indifferent to everything happening around him. He simply watched the colorful river in silence as lanterns drifted past his eyes.

A guard beside him whispered, "Sir, perhaps we should take you somewhere quieter. This place is too garish and might offend your eyes."

The old man shook his head, his gaze fixed on the river. "No need."

Many of the people who had been clustered around them earlier dispersed when the singing hall lit up. In the distance, the faint sounds of a zither and harp drifted over, accompanied by singing that flowed into the desolate river.

Beside the old man, a middle-aged man in plain clothes sighed. "Ah, these people have had a few comfortable months and have forgotten all their past hardships. How much toil and tears have you endured, sir, doing so much over these years? They... they have no idea!"

The old man raised his hand and gently waved it. The cold wind poured into his wide sleeves, but he seemed completely oblivious, standing motionless.

"Peace and prosperity for the nation is a blessing," the old man said calmly. "Whether they know it or not makes little difference. This can also be considered a small accomplishment of Zhao Xiang'er."

The middle-aged man scoffed, lowering his voice. "Zhao Xiang'er... how can a mere sixteen-year-old woman rule the Zhao Kingdom? Have those old fools in the imperial palace gone mad? They finally sent away one plague god, and now they've welcomed her daughter! They're truly spineless cowards afraid of death!"

The old man pressed his hand down. "Do not speak too much of such matters in public."

The middle-aged man continued, "In the past, you endured humiliation, shouldering the burden of the entire city's populace. You painstakingly negotiated many terms with Jin, exchanging them for a few years of peace and stability in Linhe City. Now, all that is ruined, and they even want to strip you of your office... These people are truly blind!"

On a normal day, the old man would surely have cautioned him about speaking carelessly and not discussing court affairs. But today, with the clamor of the crowd, no one could clearly hear what they were saying, and the old man seemed unconcerned about being overheard, maintaining a composed expression throughout.

The old man simply said, "Perhaps Zhao Xiang'er truly has ability. For the past two years, I have toiled inside and out, endured scorn and mockery, and to have exchanged it all for a few years of peace in one city already leaves me content and with a clear conscience. I only regret that I am not an immortal from the mountains, unable to live a hundred more years and secure a century of peace for the people of Linhe City..."

Listening to the soft string music, the middle-aged man's expression grew more irritated. "A mere singing girl putting on such a grand show, does she truly think herself a young lady or princess? Are these people truly worth your painstaking efforts and arduous toil, sir? If the country were truly to fall one day, the daughters of these Zhao royals and nobles would truly become singing girls selling smiles!"

The old man, who had been watching the river all this time, suddenly asked, "Do you think if Jin were to govern Linhe City, people's lives would be better?"

The middle-aged man was greatly alarmed by this question. Although they often openly cursed the monarch as incompetent, the monarch was indeed incapable, and with the emperor being far away, most people merely agreed. But now, the ruthless empress had ascended. Although she was just an immature young girl, she possessed a venomous heart and was absolutely not comparable to the incompetent and weak previous monarch.

The middle-aged man did not know why the old man would ask this. He had originally settled many details with Jin's envoy and set numerous regulations and laws, intending to surrender Linhe City and completely end the threat of war, but everything had been shattered by the chaos in the imperial city.

A few years ago, Linhe City's New Year's Eve was merely a modest River Lantern Festival, nowhere near as bustling as it was now. This ephemeral, temporary peace could tentatively be attributed to the empress's achievements. However, only far-sighted individuals like him understood what lay beneath the surface: it meant that the Zhao and Jin kingdoms would soon embark on a war to the death.

The current peace and joy of the common people were merely a foolishly constructed bubble. The accumulated white bones buried at the bottom of the Shasui River were the true cost of national enmity.

And how could Zhao, impoverished and weak for so many years, possibly contend against the wolf-like strength of Jin?

The old man did not wait for his answer. He simply continued to watch the long, flowing river and said, "I think... it wouldn't be better. No matter who governs Linhe City, it won't be better. Human hearts are always greedy. Although Jin is powerful, its supreme ruler is a famously tyrannical monarch. A tyrannical rule can be stable for a time, but how can it govern for tens of thousands of generations?"

The middle-aged man deeply agreed, recalling that when the old man was a young official, he was known as "Iron-Blooded Yama." But as he aged, while he remained serious, he became much more just and peaceful. This change in his mindset over the years certainly played a part in his current words.

He asked, "Then what does the elder think should be done?"

The old man's scattered gaze finally focused on the river. In the depths of his eyes, the piled white bones beneath the river seemed to be reflected. He propped himself with his staff and walked to the riverbank. On the river surface, the lanterns were growing sparse, faintly reflecting his aged shadow.

He suddenly said in a deep voice, "I am the lord of Linhe City, the father-and-mother official of this city. Twenty years ago, I resisted Jin with a clear conscience. I endured over a decade with the old, weak, women, and children of the city with a clear conscience. Three years ago, I sought peace with Jin for the well-being of the people, also with a clear conscience... For the next hundred, or even thousand years, only if I personally look after this city can my heart be at peace..."

The middle-aged man looked at him, his admiration growing. Yet, he knew in his heart that the old man's ambition was merely a fleeting mirage. He was not an immortal and could not achieve longevity. How could he plan for Linhe City's eternal peace?

The middle-aged man asked, "Does the elder have any plans for the future?"

The old man's emotions calmed somewhat. He leaned on his cane and paced along the riverbank, muttering to himself, "Let's wait until after the New Year tomorrow."

Having a peaceful New Year was the top priority now. After all, this was the first relatively stable New Year in many years. However, after the spring of the coming year, chaos and war would inevitably return.

The middle-aged man walked with him along the river and asked, "How much chance do you think our Zhao Kingdom has of winning?"

The old man sighed deeply. "How much chance? Does it matter? If war truly breaks out, we and Jin are only separated by this Shasui River. Regardless of the final outcome, we're likely to face a desolate scene of nine out of ten homes empty again. We've enjoyed this temporary peace and joy, but we'll soon have to pay it all back."

The middle-aged man looked at the foolish masses and asked, "Then do you dislike them, sir?"

The old man shook his head. "If every common person were wise, what would be left for us to do?"

The middle-aged man nodded. "Indeed. Everything we do now is to secure peace for them and to find a way for them to survive. But they... alas."

The old man suddenly stopped. "How can we ensure eternal peace for the entire city?"

The middle-aged man frowned, puzzled by the old man's question. He had always felt that the old man thought highly of him and intended to entrust him with great responsibilities in the future. So, upon hearing this grand question, he immediately began to contemplate seriously.

After a moment, the middle-aged man tentatively asked, "Eliminate external threats, establish laws, and regulate people's livelihoods?"

As the man spoke, he felt a jolt of alarm, wondering if the old man intended to find a way to make Linhe City independent of both kingdoms. But that was an utterly impossible feat.

The old man, however, still shook his head and uttered a remark that left him standing frozen for a long time: "What if everyone in the city could live forever?"

The middle-aged man's eyebrows nearly met. He thought he had misheard.

Or perhaps the old man... had gone mad.

He didn't have much time to delve into the deeper meaning behind the old man's words, because soon, the entire city would plunge into madness.

On Feihua Pavilion, the remaining snow was illuminated by the lanterns, like scattered blossoms in a courtyard, falling gracefully from a young girl's flower basket.

On the high building, enchanting figures moved, like undulating waves.

Ning Xiaoling, thinking she could watch the singing hall sisters dance without paying, eagerly pulled Ning Changjiu and ran over. The long bridge was already not very wide, and with the current commotion, it was packed with people. Some even fell into the river from the bridge, splashing and crying for help.

Ning Changjiu used his spiritual power to create an invisible hand, gently pushing them to the shore as if going with the flow.

Ning Xiaoling grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the singing hall.

Suddenly, a window on the high building was pushed open. As the window opened, the crowd below, after a brief pause, erupted into enthusiastic cheers.

Ning Xiaoling looked up and saw the pavilion window slowly being opened. Then, paper flowers scattered from the air, all folded into the shape of five-petaled peach blossoms. After the showering paper flowers, a woman with a cloud-like bun knelt gracefully before a black, plum-blossom-tailed guqin. Her figure was elegant and upright, and her appearance was beautiful and noble, but her fair face showed no smile, instead carrying a hint of pitiful sorrow.

The zither music abruptly started, the first note remarkably high, as if mountains were rising from the earth and great waves were splitting rocks, completely unsuited to her gentle and melancholic demeanor.

The maid beside her also changed expression and whispered something, but the woman ignored her, her fingers flying over the strings. After several forceful plucks, she placed one hand on the edge of the strings, propped the instrument with her pinky, and gathered her four fingers, trembling at an extremely rapid frequency. Waves of zither music pressed down, at times even overpowering the clamor of the crowd.

Ning Xiaoling listened, feeling a surge of emotion in her heart. She wondered if this was a young lady from a noble family who had fallen on hard times, her aspirations suppressed, using the zither to vent her frustrations.

Ning Changjiu's expression, however, subtly changed.

The woman's expression suddenly became tinged with pain.

The pain came without warning or reason, as if even she herself was moved by the passionate intensity of the music, and thus wore a mournful expression.

Thump-thump-thump.

Upstairs, a plump woman in gaudy attire ran up quickly, shouting, "You wretched girl, I've raised you for years, and what are you doing? I told you to play the Huai River, what are you playing? A battle drum for war?!"

The plump woman held a piece of red cloth in one hand and had her hands on her hips, running upstairs while cursing.

Before the plump woman could reach the top floor, a string snapped with a clang. The maid's cry of alarm also rang out, and the other dancing women, who had been performing, halted their swaying movements and gasped in surprise.

By the window, the beautiful woman playing the zither suddenly stood up and leapt down.

The crowd's cheers reached an unprecedented height.

Some thought this was a unique promotional stunt by Feihua Pavilion: whoever could catch the falling beauty could spend a wonderful night with her. So, no one worried whether catching someone falling from such a height with bare hands would directly shatter their arm bones.

And before those who caught the woman could even cheer, their shouts turned into screams.

Blood... A man, holding her by the waist, found his hands covered in sticky, fresh blood. The crowd scattered in a panic, and the woman fell to the ground. She lay flat, a dagger, seemingly having appeared out of nowhere, plunged into her lower abdomen. She was already dead, but the gleaming silver blade was like her eye, continuing to gaze coldly at the world for her.

The old man by the Shasui River remained unmoved, for he knew that the chaos of this night had only just begun.