Chapter 670: The Dead Can Speak

Because of Grand Tutor Sun's sudden death, Marquis Zheng, who had originally intended to bypass Yingdu, had no choice but to turn into the city after all.

This time, however, things were different from his previous visit. Last time, he had deliberately slowed his pace. To a certain extent, one might say he had entered under the weight of "popular expectation" and amid everyone "craning their necks in anticipation." This time, he brought only the Sword Saint and Hero Chen with him. He did not even bring his personal guards, nor did he ride his Pixiu. He simply entered the city together with Xu Wenzu, who rode a Pi Beast, and Xu Wenzu's escort.

Zheng Fan knew the Sun family residence well. Servants with white cloth wrapped around their waists and black bands tied around their shoulders were already hanging white lanterns on either side of the main gate. Outside, stewards from quite a few major households had also arrived to sound out the situation. The formal mourning period had not truly begun yet, so only people with extremely close relations would normally come over at a time like this, under the pretext of "family friends" helping the household prepare and arrange the funeral.

Xu Wenzu swung down from his Pi Beast. His build was too distinctive and too conspicuous. The servants at the entrance immediately dropped to their knees. One steward knelt directly before Xu Wenzu. Just as he prepared to speak, he saw the man standing behind the Prefect, dressed not in black armor but in a black brocade robe, and his mouth opened again. He recognized Marquis Pingxi. The arrival had simply caught him completely off guard.

"Move, move, move!"

Xu Wenzu pushed the steward aside and strode in, with Zheng Fan following close behind. Inside the residence, the servants were all preparing for the funeral. Xu Wenzu and Zheng Fan went directly toward the rear residence, and before they even entered it, they heard crying from within.

It was Sun Liang.

"Father... Father..."

The calls were not eloquent. They could barely even be called moving. There was no richness of language, no rise and fall of dramatic cadence, but anyone listening could feel the grief inside them.

The Sun family's second son was, in truth, only moderately capable. His post as Transport Commissioner of Yingdu had depended heavily on his father's support from behind. Without that, during the campaign against Chu, some logistics delay might easily have led the Prince of Jingnan to cut off his head as a warning to the rest. But Sun Liang had one virtue: he was steady. Among the countless masses beneath Heaven, people who believed themselves clever were innumerable. People who knew their own shortcomings were rare. Sun Liang belonged to the latter group.

Xu Wenzu approached. The Sun family relatives around them looked startled, some even frightened, but once someone took the lead, all of them dropped to their knees and saluted Xu Wenzu. Sun Liang turned his head. Tears and snot were mixed across his face.

"Prefect Xu... Prefect Xu..."

Sun Liang staggered upright, preparing to salute, but Xu Wenzu forcibly supported him before he could kneel.

Inside, the mourning hall had only just been roughly arranged, and a coffin stood within it. Given the Sun family's status, Sun Youdao had naturally prepared all of this for himself long ago. Once the man was gone, he could lie straight down inside without delaying his move to a new home.

"Restrain your grief," Xu Wenzu said.

Sun Liang nodded, both hands gripping Xu Wenzu tightly. Then he looked at the man standing behind the Prefect. His body trembled slightly, and at once he dropped to his knees again and saluted Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan reached down and helped him up. "The incense table hasn't even been set yet. There is no rush for incense or reciprocal mourning rites. It's too noisy here. Have these people withdraw for now. This Marquis would like to spend a little time alone with you, and with the Grand Tutor."

It was an extremely inconsiderate request. The beginning of a funeral was naturally chaotic. Who would dare openly complain that the mourning household was too noisy? But Marquis Pingxi's status was different. To a certain extent, his words were the rules. And after Sun Youdao's death, the Sun family's standing had fallen by far too much. They no longer possessed the qualifications to argue over details.

Put another way, even after Grand Tutor Sun retired and stopped involving himself much in court affairs, as long as he remained alive, even if he lay unconscious on a sickbed, the Sun family's face and weight still remained. The old ties attached to Sun Youdao alone, ties with the Great Yan court, with Jin's common people, and with Yingdu's officials and powerful families, all remained.

But once a man died, the tea cooled. One could not say everything vanished in a single instant, but things were no longer the same.

Sun Liang immediately ordered his relatives and the inner-residence servants to withdraw. Very soon, the area around the mourning hall quieted. Even Sun Liang himself left first to compose and clean himself up. That too was proper etiquette. Before, his father had only just died and the formal mourning had not begun, so as a son he could openly reveal his grief and wail as he pleased. But once mourners began arriving, as the host family and as the dutiful son, he had to receive them solemnly and return their rites.

At this point, only Xu Wenzu, Zheng Fan, and the Sword Saint standing somewhat farther away remained before the mourning hall.

Xu Wenzu drew a deep breath. There were tears at the corners of his eyes, and at the same time his body staggered slightly. Zheng Fan reached out and caught Xu Wenzu's hand. Xu Wenzu's gaze sharpened. He glanced once toward the mourning hall and twice tightened his grip on Zheng Fan's hand.

Was this your arrangement?

Did you have Sun Youdao killed?

One had to admit that Fatty Xu had developed the same illness that had afflicted the previous Prefect of Yingdu, Mao Mingcai: a lingering side effect of believing everything lay within Marquis Pingxi's calculations.

Otherwise, this affair was difficult to explain. Zheng Fan was passing Yingdu today, and Sun Youdao had suddenly become too happy and died?

Zheng Fan shook his head very slightly. This matter truly had not a copper coin's worth of connection to him or the Marquis Residence.

Xu Wenzu stared carefully into Zheng Fan's eyes. At last, he let out a long breath.

After a while, Sun Liang returned. Xu Wenzu took the initiative to walk over.

"I will submit a memorial to the court. Also, I will personally head the funeral arrangements."

This was both favor and honor. Normally, only when a truly venerable elder minister died would the court specially appoint a senior official to preside over the funeral arrangements. Yingdu was too far from Yanjing. If they waited for a memorial to travel there, receive approval, and return, it would already be too late.

Xu Wenzu was acting first and reporting afterward, but in truth he was also allowing the court to acknowledge Sun Youdao's lifetime achievements in advance. Within all Yingdu, the highest-ranking official was Prefect Xu Wenzu. For him to head the funeral arrangements was the highest possible standard available locally.

Later, honors and favor would come down from the court. Grand Tutor Sun would be granted a dignified posthumous send-off, and Sun Liang would receive some promotion in rank or title.

Of course, because Sun Youdao had served two dynasties, what the Sun family feared most was how posterity would judge him. And Sun Liang, the next generation, did not have the ability to hold the family banner aloft. The dignity and honor surrounding their father's death could only be fought for with help from outsiders.

"Thank you, Prefect!"

Sun Liang stepped back three paces, then, with exceptional solemnity, kowtowed three times to Xu Wenzu. As a son, he naturally ought to do so.

Xu Wenzu shifted half a step aside, accepting only half the rite. Then he patted Sun Liang's shoulder and left first for the Prefectural Yamen. He would come again properly the next day.

At the entrance to the mourning hall, only Zheng Fan and Sun Liang remained.

"Liang thanks the Marquis on behalf of my father."

After rising, Sun Liang kowtowed to Zheng Fan again. Everyone knew the Marquis was traveling under imperial summons and rushing toward Yanjing. Everyone also knew he had previously decided not to enter Yingdu. Yet now he had come. Naturally, he had come for Sun Youdao. That too was a favor.

"Get up."

Zheng Fan raised a hand, then walked into the mourning hall on his own. Sun Liang rose and followed.

Sun Youdao's body lay inside the coffin. It had already been cleaned and arranged. He wore the official robes bestowed by the Great Yan court after he had been invested as Grand Tutor.

"The clothes can be changed," Zheng Fan said. "Dress him in the official robes of Great Cheng. When I was at Stone Mountain before, I saw that a place had deliberately been left empty beside the late Emperor's mausoleum. I was told it was reserved specifically for the Grand Tutor. That is a fine tale between sovereign and minister. It should be completed."

Joy immediately appeared across Sun Liang's face, and he once again saluted Zheng Fan with great solemnity.

Only Zheng Fan could say this. Only Zheng Fan could give such an instruction. He was one of Great Yan's military-service Marquises, an existence beyond the normal rank hierarchy. Even Xu Wenzu could not issue a request like this and force everyone else to accept it.

Zheng Fan did not look at Sun Liang. Instead, he moved closer to the coffin and rested one hand on its edge.

When he had seen Sun Youdao the previous winter, the old man had still seemed energetic. Now that he was gone, it was as though all his vitality and spirit had departed with him. He had become shockingly thin, almost skin and bones.

"Do you have wine?" Zheng Fan asked. "I'd like to drink one more cup with the Grand Tutor."

"Please wait a moment, Marquis."

Sun Liang turned and left again.

Zheng Fan leaned against the coffin and continued looking at the old man lying within it. At this moment, he had a strange feeling, as though the old man might sit up again in the next instant and make some joke with him.

In truth, Zheng Fan and Sun Youdao had never shared some life-and-death friendship. But sometimes, heroes recognized heroes. More than that, the old man's departure also marked the final coffin nail hammered into the old Great Cheng.

Sun Youdao had become famous very late in life, but he had encountered Situ Lei at precisely the right time. From Situ Lei's princely household to Zhennan Pass, Sun Youdao had supported him step by step until Situ Lei built an imperial enterprise.

Back during the Three-State War, Zheng Fan had been one of the participants in the army. He himself had marched south into Qian rather than invaded Jin, but even so, he had very clearly sensed the completely different attitude held by Great Yan's upper ranks, or more specifically Old Tian, toward the Situ family compared with the Helian and Wenren clans.

Toward the Helian and Wenren clans, it had been genuine contempt. Since those families had dared take the initiative to provoke Yan, fine, then crush them and destroy them.

Toward the Situ family, however, one could argue that Great Yan had already suffered heavy losses after a major war and needed time to recover. But once one remembered the later campaign against Chu, which had been forced through under conditions where the state was exhausted and the people impoverished, it became obvious that Great Yan's upper ranks had not truly believed they were incapable of continuing the war back then.

It was simply because, under Situ Lei, the Situ family had been different from the other two houses of the Three Jin. Trying to carry the momentum from destroying two Jin houses directly into eliminating the Situ family as well would have been extremely difficult.

In the end, the only thing that earned an enemy's respect was your own strength.

And in the wars that followed, the Yingdu region had provided staggering amounts of logistical support to the armies of Great Yan. That was accumulated foundation.

Back then, Sun Youdao had helped Situ Lei build the strongest Cheng State in history. Unfortunately, it had collapsed far too suddenly. Fortune made fools of men. Perhaps Heaven had willed it so.

But that was not why Zheng Fan respected the old man. After all, he had indirectly or directly cut down two Pillars of State from Chu already. Once you had seen enough pillars of the realm, once you had killed enough of them, the novelty wore off.

What Zheng Fan admired, what resonated most deeply with him, was the way Sun Youdao had stepped away. He had truly waved his sleeves, let go of his obsessions, chosen the most rational ending, and closed his life without shame.

To some extent, it fit perfectly with Marquis Zheng's own fantasy that if everything ever became unbearable, he could squander the household fortune and go open an inn.

A person's life was like that. The more one had once held, the harder it became to let go at the end.

A short while later, crying sounded outside again. A servant entered carrying a wine pot and cups. His eyes were red, and he was desperately holding back tears.

"What happened?" Zheng Fan asked. "Where is Sun Liang?"

"To answer the Marquis, the Old Madam followed the Master in death. Young Master went to see her."

The Old Madam referred to Sun Youdao's aged concubine.

After Sun Youdao died, she helped prepare his body. Then she swallowed gold. Before dying, she said one sentence to the family members beside her:

"The Master cannot manage alone down below. I have to go serve him."

She had followed him in death, and it had not been forced. She had gone willingly. The reason was simple. Sun Liang did not possess the ruthlessness or courage to force a woman into accompanying burial.

Not long afterward, Sun Liang returned. He had been crying again, but when he entered the mourning hall and looked at Zheng Fan, he forced a smile onto his face.

By the customs of the age, for a wife to voluntarily follow her husband into death was considered an honor. It meant the household had excellent family discipline, a family that understood propriety.

But Sun Liang smiled for only a moment before covering his eyes and breaking down again. His birth mother had died early. That old concubine had effectively been his mother.

"Marquis, forgive me."

"It's fine. Cry."

Sun Liang simply sat down on the floor and began wailing again. Two close family members had died within a single day, his closest kin. He truly could not bear it. Only this kind of crying could release even a small fraction of the grief crushing his heart.

Zheng Fan poured one cup of wine and set it on the coffin lid. Then he poured another for himself.

"You were a clever man. Gou Moli even said you were exceptionally clever. Heh."

Zheng Fan drained the cup. He did not pour another. He simply remained silent, while Sun Liang continued wailing.

The Sword Saint had stood outside for a long time. Eventually, he came in. After glancing once at Sun Youdao's body, he held his sword before him and saluted. Then he withdrew again.

Seeing this, Sun Liang hurriedly straightened his kneeling posture and returned the Sword Saint's salute with proper solemnity.

At that moment, someone called in from outside. Sun Liang rose and left once more. He was the dutiful son, and Marquis Pingxi was here. He was truly busy, but he had no choice except to be busy.

A short while later, Sun Liang returned and said to Zheng Fan, "Marquis, someone from the Prince Residence requests an audience."

"With this Marquis?"

"Yes. Prince Cheng wishes to ask the Marquis to lift the order confining him to his residence, so that he may come pay respects to my father."

After the repeated left and right slaps dealt to Prince Cheng Residence during the last affair, the household really had become completely docile.

Zheng Fan nodded.

"Thank you, Marquis."

Sun Liang rose again and went out to pass on the message. Then he returned yet again. Sweat had already appeared across his forehead, cold, exhausted sweat. The shock to his spirit combined with the repeated rushing back and forth through the residence was genuinely becoming too much for him.

Sun Liang knelt there again. Zheng Fan remained leaning against the coffin. The Sword Saint had already gone back outside.

And so, inside the mourning hall, one man stood, one man knelt, and one man lay down.

Zheng Fan did not speak. Sun Liang did not speak. The man lying inside the coffin naturally could not speak.

Yet beside Zheng Fan's ear, it felt as though Sun Youdao would not stop talking, nagging endlessly.

"Your father is really annoying," Zheng Fan said.

"Ah..." Sun Liang replied.

"I've never met anyone as annoying as your father. Truly."

"Uh..." Sun Liang.

There was absolutely no way Sun Liang dared answer that. Refute him? He did not dare. Yes, Sun Liang was timid. He knew perfectly well that he was timid. So he did not dare respond to Marquis Pingxi's "mad ravings" in front of his father's mourning hall.

But Marquis Zheng kept digging at his own ear with one finger, his face full of impatience.

This was not Zheng Fan putting on some performance of ghosts and spirits. He truly could hear Grand Tutor Sun talking.

That was what it meant to be truly clever.

Silence spoke louder than words.

"Enough, enough. This Marquis knows. I know."

"..." Sun Liang.

Sun Liang's heart trembled.

Could Marquis Zheng truly communicate with ghosts and spirits?

Perhaps because he had just lost both his parents and his mind was dazed. Perhaps because he had once been frightened half to death when Marquis Zheng led soldiers into his home. Perhaps because his own brain truly was not especially quick.

He actually asked:

"Marquis... what did my father say?"

Marquis Zheng sighed. "Where's your elder brother?"

"To answer the Marquis, Elder Brother has always been confined inside the family's inner residence. Father gave a death order that he is never to leave for the rest of his life."

That order had been given in Marquis Zheng's presence.

Zheng Fan nodded. "The old man is gone now. Let your elder brother come out and kowtow to him. Let him fulfill a son's duty."

"This..."

Sun Liang's face immediately lit up. He kowtowed to Zheng Fan again.

"Thank you for your mercy, Marquis! Thank you for your mercy! Liang will go call Elder Brother right now!"

Sun Liang had always known that his elder brother, Sun Ying, was the truly intelligent one, the one capable of inheriting their father's mantle. Sun Liang himself was only an extra. But he had never been jealous, never dissatisfied.

Now, he was genuinely happy for his brother.

Their father had issued the order. No one in the Sun family dared violate it.

But Marquis Pingxi's order could.

Not long afterward, Sun Liang returned carrying Sun Ying on his back. Both brothers were dressed in mourning hemp. Because Zheng Fan had said he wanted quiet earlier, they had not allowed servants to carry Sun Ying in.

After lowering his brother to the floor, Sun Liang simply dropped onto his backside as well. He gulped for air. His lips were dry, and his face had gone pale.

"Father... Father..."

Sun Ying stretched both hands forward, staring at the coffin inside the mourning hall as he wept and shouted.

He had never resented his father for confining him. He understood even more clearly what his father had paid because of his affairs.

A lifetime's good name.

His father could have completely withdrawn from the whirlpool. He could have lived out his remaining years as an old surviving minister of Great Cheng. But for his son's sake, he had climbed aboard Marquis Pingxi's ship.

Zheng Fan smiled. He turned his head and looked at Sun Youdao inside the coffin. At the same time, he pointed toward Sun Ying kneeling below.

"Satisfied now? I let your son out for you."

Sun Liang stared dumbfounded.

Sun Ying, meanwhile, continued crying, pounding his chest again and again. Clearly, he had already understood.

"Sun Ying," Zheng Fan called.

Sun Ying suddenly bit down hard on his own lip and forced himself silent. Blood appeared along the lip. Then he lowered his head and pressed his forehead against the green bricks.

"Ying... is here."

"Can this Marquis trust you?"

Sun Ying immediately raised his head and looked directly at Zheng Fan.

"Ying will never betray the Marquis in this lifetime."

Because this life of his, this future that should already have been sealed shut, had been bought by his father with death.

Sun Youdao had not died earlier. He had not died later. He had waited until the very day Zheng Fan was passing Yingdu before dying.

Coincidence?

Only a ghost would believe that was coincidence.

If Sun Youdao had truly been so weak he could not move an inch, already hovering on the edge of death, why had he asked Xu Wenzu to leave one chair empty for him inside the pavilion?

So when Marquis Zheng stood beside the coffin, what filled his ears was the dead Sun Youdao nagging without pause.

He said: My second son is dull. He cannot hold up this household.

He said: My eldest son is crippled. His life has already been unfortunate enough. I cannot bear to see him confined for the rest of it.

He said: Among my sons, this eldest one is the only one truly like me. He has strategy. He has schemes. He can be used.

He also said: In this whole world, other than you, Marquis Zheng, no one dares use him anymore.

Marquis, just use him. Use him.

If you refuse, this old man will die right here for you to see!

Ah, I nearly forgot.

I'm already dead.

I already died first as a gesture of sincerity!

What did it mean to be a truly clever man?

In the first half of his life, he assisted a sovereign in building an empire. In his twilight years, he helped his second son keep the family standing. And at the very end of his life, already unlikely to survive the coming winter, he could still use death itself to seek a future for his eldest son.

If he did not have much longer to live anyway, then better to make that death valuable.

He died, and by dying he forced Zheng Fan to put Sun Ying back to use. More than that, he also helped Zheng Fan confirm Sun Ying's loyalty.

If Sun Ying ever became disloyal, then his father would have died for nothing.

With that shackle around him, Marquis Pingxi could use the eldest son without fear, and Sun Ying could display his talents to the fullest extent.

Heh.

There was only one thing left to sigh.

How pitiful the hearts of parents beneath Heaven.

Zheng Fan extended a hand.

"Incense."

Sun Liang, already dazed and barely present, came back to himself as though waking from a dream. He hurriedly rose and placed incense in Zheng Fan's hand. Then he set an incense burner on the offering table before him.

Zheng Fan lit the incense from a candle and walked directly before the offering table, facing the coffin.

Smoke curled slowly upward.

For a moment, it seemed as though Sun Youdao were standing beside the coffin, smiling at him like an old fox.

Marquis Zheng shook his head. He placed the incense into the burner and smiled too.

Turning away, he stepped down from the platform and waved one hand behind him.

Cursing in reply, he said:

"You old bastard."

[End of Chapter 670]