Chapter 19: Peach Blossom Immortal

The man who had shouted that the carriage was stolen had already collapsed to the ground in terror, trembling uncontrollably, his face pale as though he were a lamb waiting for slaughter. The gate commander swallowed hard and glanced left and right at the soldiers who had already retreated behind him. He wanted to retreat too, but he knew someone was watching from the city tower. If he let himself be frightened back, there would be no good end waiting for him afterward.

"Burn it!" Shang Chaozong said as he jumped down from the carriage, punctuating the order with a hand signal.

Someone immediately tossed him a Saber. Shang Chaozong caught it, twisted at the waist, and slashed. Blood sprayed in a bright arc, splattering across his face and clothes. The gate commander's eyes went wide. Never even in his dreams had he imagined that Shang Chaozong would dare kill him beneath the Son of Heaven's very nose. Caught utterly unprepared, he could do nothing as his fine head flew into the air, struck the ground, and rolled. His body collapsed beside it, twitching.

"Ah..."

The soldiers outside the city recoiled several more steps in fright. Lan Ruoting, now out of the carriage, watched the scene in utter speechlessness. Shang Chaozong had openly killed a commander of the capital's gate guards right beneath the emperor's feet! Tao Xin cut through the carriage traces with his saber, jumped onto the back of one of the horses, and charged straight toward the city gate. The defenders scattered before him. Not one dared block his path. They watched helplessly as he rode to the gate, snatched down a torch, and came galloping back.

Tao Xin lit it and threw it through the carriage window. The fire quickly caught. Thick smoke began pouring from inside. Shang Chaozong mounted a warhorse and abruptly looked back. His face was streaked with blood as his gaze rose toward the two open windows high in the city tower. He saw Ga Miaoshui and Song Jiuming standing there.

Then he turned his horse around and shouted, "Move!"

He rode off at the head of the column. The cavalry wheeled in formation and thundered after him.

"A tiger father has no dog for a son," Ga Miaoshui said mildly, gloom in his eyes.

Watching the riders grow smaller in the distance, Song Jiuming sighed. "What worries me is that Prince Ning's power to rally men may still remain. I only hope we haven't released a tiger back into the mountains."

Not long afterward, the deputy commander of the city guards rushed into the tower chamber. He cupped his hands and cried mournfully, "Eunuch, Shang Chaozong killed General Li! I beg you to uphold justice for the general!"

"He is imperial kin, blood of the House of Shang. Was the heavenly clan's dignity something just anyone could humiliate? He's dead, so let him be dead." Ga Miaoshui's tone was indifferent.

His black cloak swept around as he turned from the window. When he neared the deputy commander, an invisible surge of force rolled outward and knocked the man staggering backward. The deputy commander fell hard on his backside, clearing the way. Ga Miaoshui continued past him with a cold snort.

"Several thousand men frightened into submission by five hundred riders. A pack of useless trash!"

Song Jiuming glanced at the dazed deputy commander lying on the floor but said nothing. He too left at an unhurried pace, unwilling to add another word. He understood perfectly well that once news of what had happened at the eastern gate reached the palace, the man inside would be furious.

Every excuse and justification would be meaningless. These were the troops entrusted with guarding the eastern gate of the imperial capital, yet a few hundred cavalrymen had frightened them into this state. If a real enemy army attacked one day, what then? Could anyone still rely on such men to defend the capital?

The deputy commander's head would probably be difficult to keep attached to his neck. And among the gate troops, a great many others would likely be implicated as well... The fragrance of peach blossoms drifted faintly through the bright spring day. A gentle breeze moved across the mountain.

Beneath the peach tree, Niu Youdao lay on his reclining chair with an illustrated herbal compendium open in his hands, reading with obvious enjoyment. From time to time, a mischievous petal floated down to bother him. Then the faint clatter of hooves rose from somewhere below the mountain.

Niu Youdao closed the book against his chest and turned his head. He could dimly make out several riders stopping below the opposite cliff. They did not look like people of the Shangqing Sect. Someone came down to receive them and led the visitors up the winding stone stairs. He watched only briefly.

Over the years, he had learned something from experience: no matter how many people arrived, it usually had nothing to do with him. So he went back to his book. Reading in surroundings like these was a pleasure in itself, the sort of reading environment he had never enjoyed in his previous life.

Before long, drowsiness came over him again. He had no idea how long he slept. When he woke in a haze, he lazily rolled onto his side and, still half asleep, let the indolence buried in his bones spill from his mouth:

"In Peach Blossom Vale stands Peach Blossom Hermitage;
Beneath Peach Blossom Hermitage dwells a Peach Blossom Immortal.
The Peach Blossom Immortal plants peach trees,
And plucks peach blossoms to trade for wine.
Sober, he sits only before the flowers;
Drunk, he comes again to sleep beneath them.
Half sober, half drunk, day after day;
Flowers fall, flowers bloom, year after year.
I only wish to grow old and die amid flowers and wine,
Never to bow before carriages and horses.
The dust of wheels and horses' hooves marks the power of the eminent;
Wine cups and flowering branches are the lot of the recluse.
If the eminent are compared with recluses,
One is on level ground, the other in Heaven.
If flowers and wine are compared with carriages and horses,
How they toil and bustle; how idle am I.
Others laugh that I am far too mad;
I laugh that others cannot see through.
Where now are the tombs of Wuling's heroes?
No flowers, no wine—only fields beneath the hoe..."

His voice had been slow and languid from beginning to end. Once the recitation was finished, he felt thoroughly comfortable. He stretched, opened his eyes blearily, tilted his head— Then his eyes snapped wide. He froze. Three people were standing beside him. The one in front looked at once unfamiliar and familiar, and she was very beautiful.

It was none other than his wife, Tang Yi.

He did not find her beautiful merely because she happened to be his wife. He knew perfectly well what kind of "marriage" theirs was.

She simply was beautiful. Her bearing was dignified and cool. Her skin was fair and delicate as fine porcelain, her bosom full, her figure graceful beneath a long black gauze robe. With her hands lightly folded before her waist, she carried an air of otherworldly refinement, almost like an immortal. Merely standing there, she was pleasing enough to look at as part of the scenery.

Behind her stood the one-eyed Tu Han on his crutch. Beside him was another woman, slender and graceful, dressed like a warrior in a short green jacket. Niu Youdao truly did not know her. He knew few people in the Shangqing Sect to begin with, and the woman was wearing a gauze-veiled hat that concealed her face.

Tang Yi normally came only once at the end of every year.

Why had she appeared now?

Niu Youdao almost wondered whether he was still asleep. He rubbed his eyes, confirmed that the scene was real, and hurriedly sat up.

With an easy flick of one hand, he tossed the ponytail that had fallen crookedly across his shoulder back into place and smiled. "What brings you here?"

He could not bring himself to call her "wife."

Aside from politely addressing him as her husband on the day of their wedding, she had never called him that again. He could only blame himself for having no authority as a husband. Unlucky him. At the same time, a bead of cold sweat almost appeared in his heart. These past few years truly had been too quiet and comfortable. He had actually lost even the most basic vigilance. Three living people had come right up to him without his noticing, and he had slept like a dead pig through all of it.

If he were still in the jianghu and someone wanted him dead, he probably would not even know how he had died. The three standing nearby, however, did not react for a long moment. Tu Han was looking at him very strangely, almost as if Niu Youdao were some rare monster. Every so often, he glanced up at the peach tree as well.

Tang Yi's expression was more complicated. Her thoughts were still immersed in the mood of the poem Niu Youdao had just recited so lazily, without the slightest self-consciousness.

A poem he had casually spoken himself?

And those endless poems and lyrics Song Yanqing used to produce? She could not help looking again at the thousand-year-old peach tree, whose crown spread wide as a splendid canopy. She had long suspected that Song Yanqing's poetry had something to do with this man. What she had never believed was that someone of Niu Youdao's age could have written so many love poems.

But the poem he had just recited fit the scene so perfectly. It felt almost as though it had been written precisely for his present circumstances. She truly found it hard to believe that a poor boy from a remote mountain village could compose verse of such quality. She knew Niu Youdao's background very clearly.

Dong Guo Haoran had provided ironclad proof of the master-disciple relationship, but from the circumstances it was obvious he had accepted Niu Youdao hastily. The Shangqing Sect could not blindly admit someone without investigation. The moment Niu Youdao explained his origins, the sect had sent people to that mountain village to verify them. His identity had been confirmed beyond doubt.

Yet from the first moment they saw him, many people—including Tang Yi herself—had sensed that this village boy was not ordinary. His clothes had been ragged, his shoes so torn that his toes stuck out, yet the mature intelligence in his eyes had been difficult to conceal. The way he spoke did not resemble a mountain boy either.

Perhaps that could be explained by the saying that children of poor families learned responsibility early. But claiming that he could compose poetry of this level was something else. Tang Yi still found it difficult to believe completely. It was true that their investigation had uncovered a down-and-out scholar who once taught Niu Youdao in Small Temple Village. But no one knew how much the scholar had actually taught him.

Hardly anyone in the village could even recognize many written characters. How could they judge the level of a scholar's learning? They naturally praised one of their own villagers and said he had been taught well. But press them on exactly how well, and none of them could explain.

"Sober, he sits only before the flowers; drunk, he comes again to sleep beneath them. A fine poem indeed. What a Peach Blossom Immortal!"

Tang Yi had not yet spoken when the woman in the veiled hat gave an involuntary sigh of genuine admiration. Her voice was gentle, refined, and melodious. From the measured way she spoke, one could immediately tell that she had received excellent upbringing from childhood. Judging by the angle of her veiled hat as she lifted her head, she too seemed to be admiring the peach blossoms blazing overhead like rosy clouds.

"Uh..." Niu Youdao scratched his head.

He had recited the poem in such a sleepy haze that he had barely realized what he was saying. Only when the woman repeated the line did he react.

He chuckled to cover himself. "Just something I tossed off in jest. Hardly worth mentioning, hardly worth mentioning."

He had plainly presented it as his own work.

Tang Yi tested him. "You wrote this poem yourself?"

"..."

Niu Youdao paused.

Had he said something wrong?

Could this poem somehow exist in this world too? If so, that would be embarrassing.

He chuckled again. "I was idle and spouting nonsense. Is there a problem?"

Tang Yi stared at him.

Niu Youdao immediately changed the subject and looked toward the veiled woman. "And this honored guest is...?"

The woman inclined her head politely. "Shang Shuqing. Greetings, Peach Blossom Immortal."

"Peach Blossom Immortal? Heh..." Niu Youdao laughed and waved both hands, looking as though the title was far too grand for him.

Tang Yi shifted half a step aside and extended a hand in formal introduction. "Commandery Princess Shang is the daughter of Prince Ning, Shang Jianbo. Prince Ning and Martial Uncle Dong Guo were old friends."

Niu Youdao was somewhat surprised. So the woman beneath the veiled hat was actually a member of the State of Yan's imperial clan. He did not know the details of the outside world, but over the years Chen Guishuo and a drunken Tu Han had told him enough to give him a rough idea of the larger political situation.

After the Wu Dynasty collapsed, the feudal lords fought endlessly for supremacy. Hundreds of states had been reduced through war until only seven great powers remained: Jin, Han, Zhao, Song, Wei, Yan, and Qi. To Niu Youdao, it bore a certain resemblance to the Seven Warring States from the history of his own world. The broad idea was similar.

The scale, however, was not. These seven states did not merely contend over one continent. Together, they had divided the entire world. The ruling house of Yan bore the surname Shang and was said to descend from Shang Song, emperor of the former Wu Dynasty.

Prince Ning, Shang Jianbo, had apparently been the present emperor's own younger brother. He had ranked among the Three Excellencies as Grand Marshal, an office roughly comparable to supreme commander of the armed forces in Niu Youdao's old world. He had controlled the military power of the State of Yan and had been a figure of genuine authority.

With a background like that, how could Niu Youdao not be surprised to find the Grand Marshal's daughter suddenly standing before him?

[End of Chapter 19]