Chapter 35: Then Let’s Start a Rebellion

Chapter 35: Then Let Us Rebel

The butterfly’s wings fluttered gently as it floated upward. Those behind stopped in their tracks; warmth spread across their backs, yet their hair stood on end all the more.

Yang Xuan moved his head slightly. “This is truly troublesome.”

The woman stepped out from behind him, set the bowl in front of him, and smiled with narrowed eyes. “Try it.”

The meat broth steamed, somewhat murky. Yang Xuan glanced at it and sniffed. “Pork can be soaked in well water for a while first. When boiled, remember to skim off the foam.”

The woman forced a smile. “Yes!”

“I smell mutton. That clay pot over there—did you just cook lamb in it?”

She chuckled. “Once in a while, we have a meal.”

Yang Xuan felt the time was ripe. “I remember your house doesn’t have a well, does it?”

She nodded. “Yes! We have to go to another alley to fetch water.”

Yang Xuan spoke softly. “But that day, the cup your husband brought out had beads of condensate—cold water. Where did the ice come from?”

Suddenly, the woman looked behind Yang Xuan and shrieked, “No… no!”

With a whistling sound, a wooden club swung down straight at Yang Xuan’s head. Yang Xuan raised his hand above his head; the club landed in his palm and, no matter how the man behind tried to pull, it wouldn’t budge. The man released it and lunged. Yang Xuan reversed the club in his hand.

Bang!

The man of the house fell to the ground.

“No!” The woman collapsed in despair.

“Yang Xuan!”

Tang Xiaonian burst in with his men.

“Seize them!”

Wen Xinshu asked, “Yang Xuan, how did you find this place?”

“The day he brought out the water, every cup had beads of water on the outside.”

Wen Xinshu was surprised. “Condensation… isn’t that normal?”

“Of course not,” Yang Xuan said. “Only ice can cause that.”

The three were stunned. Zhao Guolin nodded. “That’s right. My family used to freeze water with ice, and beads would form on the rim.”

“Good for you, Yang Xuan! Ha ha ha!” Tang Xiaonian scratched his head in delight.

“Mother!”

A little girl’s voice came, footsteps hopping.

In near despair, the woman pleaded to Yang Xuan, “I beg you, please…”

Yang Xuan stood before the fallen man, his voice low. “Smile, all of you.”

The crowd was puzzled but smiled nonetheless.

The little girl arrived, leaning against the door, curious. “Mother, where are you going?”

Her mother smiled. “Mother and Father will go out later. Why don’t you go to your sister’s house with Second Mother?”

“Okay!” The girl hopped out.

The woman bowed her head. “Thank you, thank you…”

Later, returning home, Cao Ying and Yi Niang were absent. Yang Xuan entered his own room.

He pulled out a scroll, opened it, and operated it on the screen.

The scroll unfurled silently, gradually forming a screen.

Yang Xuan tapped books, choosing Natural Knowledge.

He looked at the phonetic spellings and whispered, “Thank you, Vermilion Bird.”

Green lights flickered.

Clumsily, Yang Xuan typed: Why does condensation form on the rim of a cup?

Words appeared on the screen.

— Water vapor in the air condenses into droplets when it meets cold.

Yang Xuan recalled the scene: the woman’s husband brought out a tray, four coarse porcelain cups, each with beads of water on the outside.

He tapped the screen again.

Film… History.

He selected History.

Lines of words surged forth like endless waves crashing toward him.

He typed the word: rebellion.

Line by line, figures appeared…

Steel, warhorses, intrigue!

Yang Xuan rested his chin on his hand. “I really don’t want to rebel!”

“But in these days, Cao Ying and Yi Niang are restless, clearly impatient.”

…

“Master!”

Yang Xuan put away the screen, unhurried.

Outside, Yi Niang and Cao Ying waited five paces away, not daring to approach his room.

Yang Xuan nodded. “Come in and speak.”

The two entered.

“Close the door,” Yang Xuan gestured.

Yi Niang shut the door, and both saluted.

“Greetings, Master.”

Yang Xuan knelt upright on the mat, back straight.

Yi Niang and Cao Ying were startled.

“You say I am the son of a great scholar. Very well, the son of a great scholar… but Yi Niang comes from the palace, while you are a self-assured literatus. So, why do you two serve the son of a scholar?”

Cao Ying looked up, smiling slightly. “A snake cannot live without a head. We need a leader.”

“I am merely the son of a great scholar. Great scholars abound on every street, and their sons are even less valuable…” Yang Xuan’s gaze was calm. “Yang Lue even endured untold hardship, risking death many times, guarding me in Yuan Prefecture for ten years. Why?”

Cao Ying’s eyelid twitched. “Master, that is loyalty. A man’s promise is worth a thousand gold. Since Yang Lue promised the lord, naturally…”

Yang Xuan interrupted with no courtesy, “Then why has the Mirror Stand hunted him for fifteen years? Don’t tell me he could overthrow the Tang Dynasty. He cannot!”

Cao Ying was shaken, glancing at Yang Xuan.

Yi Niang bowed her head and murmured, “I told you not to treat Master as some country bumpkin. He could go up the mountain at ten to earn his keep—he’s not easy to fool.”

“I’ve investigated much.” Yang Xuan smiled, feeling like a tiger lurking in its den, while these two clowns thought him a naive little rabbit. “The Honored Emperor had three sons. The eldest died suddenly not long after Li Yuan’s ascension, circumstances suspicious. The second, Prince Zhen, and the third, Prince Yong, are both in Chang’an now.”

“Recall when Yang Lue was ambushed—one attacker asked if he was in Southern Zhou. Anyone who could make the Mirror Stand, that is, Li Bi, so wary—who could he be?”

“The Honored Emperor was deposed, then poisoned. Who benefited? Li Yuan and his son. To this day, some still question what happened. The Honored Emperor has been gone for years, but Li Yuan and his son, upon ascending, immediately purged his people…”

Yang Xuan narrowed his eyes at them, voice soft. “Do you think I can’t guess whose son I am?”

The words exploded like a thunderclap in the ears of Cao Ying and Yi Niang. Instinctively, they knelt, tears streaming as they looked up once more.

“Master!”

Yi Niang trembled all over. “Master…”

She struggled to keep her voice down, nearly silent with choking sobs. “Your Majesty…”

Cao Ying covered his face, tears dripping through his fingers, voice low and muffled. “Your Majesty…”

Yang Xuan lifted his head slightly, gazing at the ceiling.

Is it truly so?

But I really don’t want to rebel!

They sobbed for a while. Cao Ying spoke at length…

“…That year in the palace, the Emperor and Empress both fell, supposedly poisoned; the poisoner was someone from the Crown Prince’s retinue. In their struggle, someone incited, and His Majesty ordered poison wine…”

To be honest, Yang Xuan felt little for the Honored Emperor, posthumously named, whom death had taken. In his heart, Yang Lue was more a father figure.

Yi Niang recounted, “When the Crown Prince was deposed, he seemed calm, but when a concubine became pregnant, he had me quietly take Master from the palace to Yang Lue’s home…”

The Left Minister is not my maternal grandfather? The rest Yang Xuan could piece together himself. He asked, “And my mother?”

Palace matters Yi Niang knew better. She hesitated. “Master…”

“Ah!” Yang Xuan smiled bitterly. “Speak.”

Yi Niang bowed. “When the prince was imprisoned, sending you out cost six loyal guards. Your mother… when the palace poison arrived, the prince had her drink a cup.”

“Was that father’s mercy, or a man’s cruelty?” Yang Xuan could not tell. “Why don’t you seek out Prince Zhen and Prince Yong instead?”

Cao Ying smiled wryly. “Prince Zhen and Prince Yong are in the open, cannot act. Besides, their talents… forgive me, Master, but they’d make passable wealthy lords—if they grew ambitious, they’d die quickly and drag many down with them. Last time, Yang Lue sent a message by swift falcon to Yi Niang, mentioning how Master went hunting at ten, and that after learning his origins, left most of his savings for the Yang Ding couple…”

Yi Niang looked up. “Master went hunting at ten—that’s courage; leaving most of his savings for Yang Ding—that’s mercy, just like the Honored Emperor, true dragon’s blood.”

Cao Ying raised his right hand; Yi Niang did the same.

“Heaven above, we swear our loyalty to Master. If we betray him, let us die without burial, our descendants slaves for generations!”

Yang Xuan stared at the ceiling. “But I don’t want to rebel.”

Cao Ying said, “If Master does not rebel, sooner or later his identity will be discovered, and there’ll be nowhere left in the world for Master. Moreover, if Master does not rebel, how could we face the Honored Emperor…”

Yi Niang drew a pair of scissors from her sleeve, turned them toward her chest, and in a voice low but nearly blood-soaked, “Then I will go first, to see the Honored Emperor!”

The scissors plunged toward her chest.

This must be a trick, still trying to fool me!

Having watched over a dozen films and dramas, Yang Xuan hesitated, but when the scissors reached her chest, he waved his hand.

Bang!

The cup struck Yi Niang’s hand; the scissors fell, but still pierced slightly, blood flowing.

Yi Niang slammed her head against the corner of the desk.

Her face was fierce and resolute.

Yang Xuan covered his forehead. “Enough!”

Cao Ying pulled Yi Niang back.

“I’m going to sleep. Don’t disturb me.”

Yang Xuan lay down and slept.

When he woke, it was already the hour of the tiger. He opened the door; Cao Ying and Yi Niang stood outside, soaked with dew.

They looked up.

Yang Xuan yawned. “Then let us rebel.”