Chapter 302: Hello Chang'an
Chapter 302: I Teach My Uncle
Facing this question, Cui Jing looked at Chang Suining. After a brief pause, he lowered his voice and said,
“Your Highness, my thanks.”
Meeting her gaze, he continued,
“I am one caught within the web. Those who are about to be slaughtered are the kin of my late mother—”
Thus, even if he wished to act, though not entirely out of selfish intent, selfishness was inevitably involved.
But she was different. Ever since the rise of the noble clans, the realm had long been divided between aristocrats and common-born scholars. From the standpoint of both the common-born and the Li imperial family, she ought to regard the noble clans as an opposing force.
Yet at this moment, she belonged to neither side. She merely wished to safeguard the thousand-year-old current of culture flowing through this land — to preserve it for the generations yet to come.
Whatever the world became, she truly cherished every river and inch of soil beneath her feet.
Looking at the young lady standing amid the murky night, her robes damp and soiled with mud, a line came unbidden to Cui Jing’s mind:
“A spirit fallen into the mire, yet its light unextinguished.”
At that moment, he heard her say:
“Precisely because you are within the web, you understand better than anyone what the noble clans possess, what they control. If all that were to be burned to ash, it would be a grievous loss. Moreover, even if you harbor selfish intent — that is only human nature.”
“In this world, what conflict has ever been free from selfish intent? The struggle between the throne and the clans — both sides act out of self-interest. Even the Holy Emperor, who ‘tests’ you with such means, does so out of self-interest as well.”
She said with calm indifference,
“Since all are selfish, by what right should anyone demand that you alone be a fool without it?”
Then she added softly,
“Right and wrong are bound to their time and place. With the passing of years, when stances change, what is wrong may become right, and what is right may be wrong. So long as we are without shame in our hearts at this moment, that is enough.”
Cui Jing looked deeply at her and nodded.
“Yes. So it should be.”
“I wonder, Your Highness — how do you intend to test them?”
Chang Suining did not answer directly, but asked instead,
“And you? Since you have returned this time, what are your thoughts?”
Cui Jing said,
“In my eyes, the calamity upon the Central Plains’ noble clans is not one that external forces can save.”
Even setting aside right and wrong, if he led the Xuanzhe Army to forcibly protect the clans led by the Zheng family, those beyond Luoyang and Yingyang would still face punishment. The disaster would quickly spread, implicating even more clans, including the Cui family itself — making the situation only worse.
The downfall of the noble clans of the Central Plains had become inevitable from the moment they chose to side with Xu Zhengye. They had to pay the price for their own deeds.
“If outside forces cannot save them, then only self-rescue remains,” said Chang Suining.
“To seek a way of self-rescue, one must save people — not merely the noble clans.”
“Yes,” said Cui Jing. “At present, only by stepping into the abyss can there be rebirth.”
As their gazes met, both already understood what the other intended.
“If it is to be self-rescue, then we must have figures of influence among them to discuss a course of action,” said Chang Suining. “The Zheng clan of Yingyang stands foremost among the noble families of the Central Plains. Time is pressing — why not secretly send men to Yingyang, and bring here some Zheng clansmen of weight?”
“No need to abduct anyone,” said Cui Jing, turning his head to the side. “This gentleman here bears the surname Zheng — Zheng Chao, courtesy name Guancang.”
“Zheng Chao…?” Chang Suining repeated, somewhat surprised. “Your maternal uncle?”
Cui Jing nodded. He was his mother’s only brother.
“My uncle is unlike the other members of the Zheng clan. His story is rather long.”
Chang Suining had heard a little about Zheng Chao before. He was the legitimate eldest son of the Zheng family’s main branch in Yingyang. In his youth, after his father’s passing, he inherited the position of clan head, but within a few years, the Zheng clansmen deposed him under the pretext of ‘frailty and unfitness for leadership.’
The succession of a great clan’s patriarch was no small matter. Having long been one of suspicion, Chang Suining had sensed something amiss even back then. Now that she encountered the man himself, she could not help but ask,
“...The rumors say your uncle has been long ill — is that true?”
“Half true, half false,” said Cui Jing. “He is indeed ill, but as he himself claims, his ailment lies in the mind.”
“What sort of affliction of the mind?”
Could it be cured by the Huichun Hall?
Cui Jing replied,
“A chronic illness of rejecting the way the noble clans conduct themselves.”
“…” Chang Suining instinctively looked at his head.
She had not expected this ailment to have a hereditary strain within the family.
Cui Jing then told her of his uncle Zheng Chao’s many youthful acts of defiance — how he once sought to reform the system of the noble clans, proposed opening education to the common-born scholars, and even wished to build academies everywhere, sharing the Zheng family’s collection of books with the world, so that all students under Heaven might have texts to study.
He had been filled with passion, his eyes alight as if finally seeing the dawn of his dream — leaving the entire Zheng family dumbstruck. For a moment, they could not tell whether the new patriarch had gone mad or simply lost his wits.
They searched the family genealogy, wondering from which branch such a disastrous deviation had arisen, hired masters to examine the ancestral tombs and geomancy, even performed exorcisms — all to no avail.
After several years, seeing that the young patriarch remained unrepentantly “deranged,” the family reached a consensus: whoever wished for him could have him — they certainly did not.
Thus came the official reason: “Too frail and ill to shoulder the duties of patriarch.”
Hearing all this, Chang Suining felt a newfound respect for this Master Zheng — suddenly realizing that he was in truth the very progenitor of the “rebellious ailment” afflicting the noble clans.
Before long, she and Cui Jing went together to meet this founding rebel.
Yuan Miao was still kneeling on the ground. When she saw them approach, she wiped her tears and was about to withdraw.
But Chang Suining said,
“Stay and listen.”
Yuan Miao stopped, instinctively looking toward her.
“Master Zheng.” Chang Suining raised her hand in greeting.
Zheng Chao, upon hearing, turned to look at his nephew and clicked his tongue.
So little time had passed, and yet the boy had already given him away.
Meeting his uncle’s questioning gaze, Cui Jing feigned ignorance.
“I wonder, Master Zheng,” said Chang Suining frankly, “what plans you might have next?”
Zheng Chao nodded confidently. “I do. I’ve already planned it all.”
Chang Suining’s eyes lit with anticipation.
Cui Jing almost wanted to caution her not to expect too much — for, knowing his uncle…
“Tomorrow,” Zheng Chao declared, “I shall return to Yingyang. Once I’ve eaten my fill, bathed, and changed into clean robes, I will sit at home and await the Imperial Envoy Li Xian’s arrival — when he comes to execute me.”
Chang Suining: “…”
Yuan Miao: “…”
Cui Jing remained utterly calm — he was long used to this.
“Master Zheng has rendered great service in controlling the floods. Moreover, I have just heard from Grand General Cui that Master Zheng was unaware of the Zheng family’s collusion with Xu Zhengye,” said Chang Suining.
“Of course I did not know,” Zheng Chao replied indifferently. “I have never held any voice in the Zheng family’s affairs. Yet whether I knew or not—what difference does it make? Those who perished unjustly in Luoyang, even the women and children—did they all know? They did not, yet they still had to die.”
“This matter is unjust and must not be allowed to continue,” said Chang Suining, meeting his gaze. “If such wrongs are permitted to persist, they will become an unbreakable trend. Then, more innocent people will die in vain. Therefore, it is necessary for you, sir, to step forward and put a stop to it.”
“…Who?” Zheng Chao froze. “Me?”
It was as if he had heard a jest. He laughed once, then said, “I have heard of General Ningyuan’s deeds—she can save others, but I cannot.”
“No,” said Chang Suining, “this matter can be done by no one but you.”
Meeting that steady and resolute gaze, Zheng Chao fell silent for a while before smiling toward Cui Jing. “Ling’an, the persuader you found is far better at speaking than you.”
As he spoke, he rose from the stone mill. Having sat cross-legged for too long, his legs had gone numb. Straightening his robe, he sighed in self-mockery. “Enough, I will find a place to sleep. I must return to Xingyang tomorrow.”
“Master Zheng once tried to save the Zheng family in the past,” came a voice from behind him. “Why not try again this time?”
Zheng Chao halted mid-step.
Cui Jing looked at the man’s back and said, “Uncle, you do not fear death—so why fear to try?”
After a long pause, Zheng Chao slowly turned back to face the two of them and pointed. “Between the two of you—who is truly making the decisions here?”
He suddenly felt that this young lady was not merely a persuader his nephew had brought.
“It is her,” said Cui Jing, turning toward Chang Suining. “Uncle should trust her.”
Only then did Zheng Chao give Chang Suining a look of genuine regard. “General Ningyuan, why do you wish to help the Zheng family?”
Chang Suining shook her head. “This junior does not intend to help the Zheng family. Like you, sir, I wish for the learning of the gentry to have the chance to be passed down throughout the realm, rather than vanish and perish.”
Zheng Chao was taken aback, then glanced toward his nephew—did this boy truly tell her everything?
He laughed at himself. “When I said such things in my youth, everyone thought me mad. Of course, it is still the same now. In the Zheng clan, I am the madman of great repute.”
Chang Suining smiled. “That is a good thing. Only madmen can act freely.”
Zheng Chao looked at her, curious and testing. “Then tell me, General, how should this madman act?”
“Can Master Zheng kill?” asked Chang Suining.
“Kill whom?” Zheng Chao asked blankly.
Kill Li Xian?
If that was what she meant, he truly would rather go sleep.
“Kill the gentry to protect the Zheng family,” said Chang Suining.
Zheng Chao was stunned. “How would I kill them?”
“Of course, with a blade.”
Zheng Chao started. “Truly kill people?”
Not a metaphor?
He waved his hands hastily. “…That will not do. I have never killed anyone!”
Then added, “Not even a chicken!”
Cui Jing spoke in time. “I shall teach my uncle—it is not difficult to learn.”
Zheng Chao’s lips trembled. Looking at his thoughtful, considerate nephew, he found himself unable to refuse.
If his late sister could see from the afterlife that her son was teaching her brother how to kill, who knows what she would think?
During the next two days, elsewhere aside, the people within and around Xingyang City lacked grain and nearly rioted, though the authorities managed to suppress them.
The county magistrate of Xingyang, his hair falling in handfuls from anxiety, had nearly despaired when a savior arrived.
The savior offered an enormous gift—ten thousand shi of grain—but on one condition.
The magistrate bowed repeatedly in gratitude. “Not one, even a hundred conditions, I would agree to all! That is ten thousand shi of grain!”
The other party’s demand was simple: to open the city’s altar and pray for the rain to cease.
Hearing this, the magistrate nearly wept with joy. “What a living Bodhisattva!”
That same day, several porridge sheds were set up throughout Xingyang City. The magistrate publicly declared that the grain had been donated by the Zheng family to relieve the famine victims.
The people, long tormented by hunger, were deeply grateful for the Zheng family’s generosity.
But the Zheng clan head, Zheng Ji, flew into a rage. Busy with pressing affairs, he had known nothing of this so-called donation. Upon investigation, he learned that it had been Zheng Chao’s doing.
“That madman,” Zheng Ji sneered. “Does he truly think that by giving away some grain and currying a bit of favor with the common rabble, he can escape this calamity?”
To preserve the Zheng family through the pity of starving peasants—what folly!
After all these years, his cousin was still the same—naïve, foolish, dreaming wildly.
As the man who had succeeded Zheng Chao as clan head and masterminded the Zhengs’ alliance with Xu Zhengye, Zheng Ji was not one for mercy. He immediately had those involved in the grain donation punished severely and sent men to bring Zheng Chao back. But soon came the report—Zheng Chao was in the city, atop the altar, personally offering prayers.
Zheng Ji laughed coldly. “He has truly disgraced the Zheng family!”
At such a critical juncture, he had not wished to concern himself with the madman’s antics—but he soon learned that Zheng Chao’s act of prayer was far more “mad” than he had imagined.
As the rain eased, many famine victims who had received Zheng’s aid came voluntarily to the altar to express gratitude.
On the high altar, seeing the growing crowd below, Zheng Chao—who had been sitting cross-legged beside a dozen monks—slowly rose to his feet.
Under countless watching eyes, he stepped to the front and called out loudly, “You may not know me. I am Zheng Chao, courtesy name Guancang, former head of the Zheng family’s main branch in Xingyang. Today, I pray here to atone for the Zheng family’s sins and beg Heaven and the Buddhas for forgiveness!”
The crowd stirred in confusion.
“This flood in the Central Plains, this calamity upon Luo River and the land of He, all are the fault of the Zheng family!” cried Zheng Chao, eyes bloodshot, his soaked garments clinging to his frame. “The Zhengs are steeped in sin—colluding with the traitor Xu, offending Heaven itself! Our guilt is beyond pardon!”
The words thundered across the square, and the crowd erupted.
The former head of the Zheng family… had confessed on behalf of the clan!
The affair of the Luoyang gentry had already spread, and some whispered that the next to fall would be the Zhengs of Xingyang. Yet the Zhengs were the foremost gentry of the Central Plains—deep-rooted and powerful—none dared predict their fate.
And now, before their eyes, a Zheng elder had admitted their guilt publicly!
The uproar grew. The news spread like wildfire, and ever more people gathered before the altar.
Zheng Chao’s “mad act” reached the ears of Zheng Ji and the other elders.
In recent years, Zheng Chao had lived as an idle drunk, near useless—none expected such a spectacle.
When word came that he had confessed the Zhengs’ guilt in public, the clan members turned pale. “Why are you not bringing him back immediately!”
But their servants stammered in panic—men with extraordinary martial skill guarded the altar. None could get near.
“It seems my cousin has truly gone mad,” said Zheng Ji coldly. “I will bring him back myself.”
At such a moment, only he, the clan head, could salvage a shred of dignity.
As for the rest—
Word had just arrived that Li Xian had already led his troops into Xingyang. By now, he should have crossed the city gates.
“Uncles, remain here. Proceed with the plan as arranged.”
(End of Chapter)
.png)
No comments: