Chapter Eighty-Nine: Live Out the Rest of My Life for Me

The winter sun hung high overhead, and Little River Village stretched out in languid repose. Everything here moved slowly, as though the world beyond had nothing to do with it.

“Hongchou, this is no small matter. As for whether you are willing, that is for you alone to decide. No one can force you,” Yang Yuhuan said, suddenly feeling a pang of pity for the girl who bore three parts resemblance to herself.

Hongchou lowered her head, toying with the embroidered handkerchief in her hands. “This matter is very important to the young master, isn’t it?”

Yang Yuhuan nodded. “Yes. One might say it concerns life and death.”

Yu Lang stood in silence, leaning against an old tree.

Hongchou gathered her courage and walked up before him, lifting her face. “Young master, I only want one sentence from you. You hope that from now on Hongchou will become Sister Yuhuan and go to the capital to serve His Majesty the Emperor, do you not?”

Yu Lang’s heart churned like a stormy sea. He forced himself to calm down and said, “Hongchou, I know this is very difficult for you. To walk beside a ruler is to walk beside a tiger; the struggles and intrigues within the imperial inner court are perilous beyond measure. But please believe me, what you sacrifice can save the lives of millions of common people...”

Hongchou shook her head. “Young master, Hongchou doesn’t understand anything about the great duty of family or country, nor do I wish to do anything for people who have nothing to do with me. I only want to hear you say it: you want Hongchou to do this, don’t you?”

Yu Lang hardened his heart and nodded.

Hongchou lowered her head again. Her face, caught in backlight and shadow, made her expression impossible to read, but her voice was unwavering. “Sister Yuhuan, Hongchou is willing.”

Though Hongchou was only a frail young woman, she was true to her word. With that promise secured, Yu Lang finally set his mind at ease.

Forcing a woman to live as someone else is cruel, and helplessly so.

Yang Yuhuan was skilled in cosmetics and adornment. Hongchou already bore a three-part likeness to her, and after careful refinement her features came to resemble Yang Yuhuan’s by seven or eight parts. With further adjustments to her bearing and posture, the two women standing together were almost impossible to tell apart.

What proved truly difficult, however, was not the outward imitation. To avoid being exposed, Hongchou studied dance under Yang Yuhuan. Fortunately, she had considerable talent in that art as well. Though fifteen days was not enough to make her a master, she had at least achieved a modest accomplishment—something an ordinary woman would truly have been unable to do.

Yang Yuhuan was exceedingly satisfied with Hongchou. At first she had only intended to help Yu Lang, but later she became more and more invested. She truly wanted to carve this blank-sheet girl completely into her own image, so that Hongchou might live on in her stead. With that change of heart, Yang Yuhuan’s training of Hongchou grew nearly severe. She not only required her to become familiar with the rules of the palace, but also to sort out the tangled web of relationships among the many figures there, and to learn how to respond in emergencies.

The eagle watched from the side with arms folded as Yang Yuhuan painstakingly instructed Hongchou. His back was solitary and sorrowful. Though he had been assigned by the Emperor Xuanzong as a hidden guard at Yang Yuhuan’s side, his heart had long since taken Yang Yuhuan’s side. He had never once thought of possessing this celestial beauty; he only wanted to protect her. Sadly, even that much he had failed to do.

Half a month passed in the blink of an eye. That evening, Yang Yuhuan and Hongchou personally prepared a sumptuous dinner together.

This meal was also a farewell banquet held by everyone for Yang Yuhuan. Yu Lang even made a special trip to Tangzhou City to bring back some wine.

Yang Yuhuan and Hongchou sat at the head of the table, while the others took their seats along both sides. Yang Yuhuan personally placed chopsticks before each person, and when she reached the end she found one pair left in her hands. She called softly, “Eagle, come out for dinner. Where is Eagle?”

Yet the eagle, who was usually at her beck and call, did not appear.

Perhaps he could not bear to see Yang Yuhuan in her final haggard state, and only wanted to keep her beauty and grace locked away in his heart.

Yang Yuhuan’s expression dimmed slightly. She had never loved the eagle; she had merely grown accustomed to his companionship. Like a spoiled child suddenly deprived of the privilege of having her wishes answered at once, she felt a deep sense of loss.

A draught swept through the hall and pushed open the wooden door. The dust-covered eagle entered, holding a fresh, dewy cluster of lychees. He knew these were Yang Yuhuan’s favorite fruit, and on this final banquet he was determined that she should eat the thing she loved most.

When Yang Yuhuan saw the lychees, a little light returned to her dim eyes, and she was deeply moved. It was still early spring; these lychees must have been stored from last summer in an ice cellar, and even now each one was full of juice. It was truly no easy matter.

Although Yu Lang did his best to lighten the atmosphere by deliberately bringing up happy topics, the meal remained shrouded in an inescapable gloom.

Before even the lychees had been finished, the seal of life and death within Yang Yuhuan could no longer suppress the rapidly fading vitality in her body. She sent everyone out the door and endured the loneliness and pain of her final moments alone.

The peerless beauty of bygone days could only rest in the mass grave of Little River Village, where a crude, nameless stone was planted above her mound.

Yang Yuhuan’s final wish before death was only one: she asked Yu Lang not to harm her elder brother, Yang Zhao, also known as Yang Guozhong.

In the turmoil of the Middle Tang, Yang Guozhong at least bore some share of responsibility.

It was a request Yu Lang most ought to refuse, yet could not refuse. Yang Yuhuan had done so much for him; if Yu Lang could not even grant her this one wish, he would never find peace in his heart.

Hongchou changed into Yang Yuhuan’s robes and wore the makeup Yang Yuhuan usually liked best.

“Eagle, will you still follow me in the future?”

The eagle stared fixedly at this face before him, at once incomparably familiar and incomparably strange, then clasped his hands and knelt on one knee. “Eagle pledges to follow you unto death.”

As long as Hongchou remained, Yang Yuhuan had not died.

Besides Yu Lang, there were six people who knew the full story: Hongchou, Xie Zhiqian, Xue Wenyang, Ababa, Eagle, and Guo Lusheng. If one day this matter were to be pried open from a crack in Little River Village, only one of these six could have betrayed it.

During those fifteen days, with Guo Lusheng’s help, Yu Lang tried dozens of methods to refine the power within his body, yet none of them worked. Instead, the yin-yang fish formed by the seal of life and death had completely and firmly locked down his sea of qi. Fortunately, Yu Lang found another path: by using the power of the Northern Darkness from the Nine-Layered Exquisite Pagoda as a bridge, he could draw out a small portion of power for use. Though it still fell far short of the might of the upper realm of profound enlightenment, it was enough to barely maintain the aura of the peak of shattering emptiness.

After leaving Little River Village, six more days passed, and the group arrived leisurely at the foot of the great city of Chang'an.

Guo Lusheng also bade farewell to the others outside the city. “I once promised someone that I would never set foot in Chang'an in this lifetime. Now that I’ve escorted you this far, it’s time for me to go back.”

Xie Zhiqian hurriedly saluted him. “Many thanks for your care along the way, Master Guo.”

Guo Lusheng frowned repeatedly upon hearing this. “Just call me Old Guo. Those three words, ‘Master Guo,’ make me feel uncomfortable all over. Chang'an is not like Yangzhou. If you toss a brick, you can hit seven or eight princes, imperial grandsons, and high officials. Besides, Yu Lang’s cultivation still hasn’t recovered. You must all keep a low profile and not act rashly. Especially you, Yu Lang. Chen Wuning warned me in no uncertain terms that you’re a walking disaster in Yangzhou City.”

Yu Lang straightened his legs and laughed. “Don’t worry, Old Guo. In Chang'an, I’ll keep my tail between my legs and behave myself.”

Guo Lusheng nodded with satisfaction, then drove his cart slowly after the setting sun toward the far end of the imperial road.

Yu Lang lifted his head and gazed at the towering walls of Chang'an, the greatest stronghold under heaven, and his heart was stirred with countless feelings.