Chapter Seventy-Five: Seeds of Hatred

Yesterday evening, a gentle rain began to fall, its patter weaving a heavy, oppressive mist across the gloomy sky, enveloping everything like a tightly drawn net.

In the pavilion in the courtyard, Lu Liao cradled the lifeless Emil in her arms, as if her soul had been drained, dissolving into the hollow, ethereal haze. In the corridor, Madam Pei, eyes swollen from crying, stole anxious glances at the pavilion—at Lu Liao, frozen like a clay statue, unmoving with Emil—and then guiltily lowered her head. The child Bai Liangqi, heartbroken and frightened, had cried through the night and now slept deeply in her arms.

The damp air moistened the corners of Zhou Liuzi’s eyes. After half a year apart, seeing Lu Liao again, the young man who once wore a mischievous, proud smile but possessed a kind heart, was utterly changed. His face, darkened and weathered, held only numbness and emptiness. He clung tightly to Emil’s cold body, passing by Zhou Liuzi, who knelt sobbing on the ground, but failed to recognize him.

“Emil didn’t like staying indoors. She loved to watch the glittering stars in the sky at night,” Lu Liao murmured, holding Emil, her head pressed to hers, staring into the gray sky, unmoving.

A whole night and much of the day passed. Zhou Liuzi knew this could not continue, but he was unwilling and afraid to disturb the pair huddled together in the pavilion, as though to do so would be a terrible crime.

Though Lu Liao had severed Zhou Liuzi’s wrist and controlled him with terrifying poison, turning him into a household servant, it was impossible not to feel resentment. Yet, slowly, he grew to enjoy this life, and grew fond of the young man whose conduct was unusual and eccentric, yet deeply kind.

When Lu Liao fled, he left Zhou Liuzi’s antidote unmentioned, and Zhou Liuzi never asked. Half a year passed, and apart from an occasional sneeze, nothing troubled him. Old Hu often itched, but Zhou Liuzi laughed, thinking it was just that rascal’s own nature.

The beautiful and pitiful Emil died so inexplicably. The young master’s unborn son was lost in confusion. An overwhelming sense of sorrow surged from Zhou Liuzi’s heart, and he gripped his hair fiercely, muttering, “It shouldn’t have been like this. It shouldn’t have been like this.”

Lu Jiu emerged from the corridor accompanied by four young maids, her face pale as she glanced at the helpless Zhou Liuzi and Madam Pei. She snorted coldly and strode to Lu Liao.

Lu Liao instinctively shrank back, looking pitifully at the icy-faced Lu Jiu. “What do you want?”

With two hard slaps, Lu Jiu struck Lu Liao: “Wake up, Lu Liao! Emil is dead. Are you planning to let her and your unborn child rot and stink in your arms? Do you want their souls to find no release after death?”

Lu Liao’s tears poured like a spring. She dared not meet Lu Jiu’s gaze, but held Emil’s stiff corpse even tighter.

Lu Jiu’s heart softened. She gently drew Lu Liao’s head to her waist, speaking softly, “You want Emil to leave clean and beautiful, don’t you? Give her to them. They’ll show her most beautiful side for your last farewell. It’s summer—if you wait any longer, it will be too late.”

Lu Liao released her hold, letting the four maids carry Emil away with difficulty, her heart hollow as if her most cherished possession had been taken, and she collapsed helplessly.

“Zhou Liuzi, go to the kitchen and prepare some food. The four of you haven’t eaten in a long time,” Lu Jiu commanded Zhou Liuzi sternly.

Madam Pei carried thin porridge, pulling Bai Liangqi aside, avoiding Lu Liao. She felt, deep down, that Emil’s death was her own failing—her inability to protect Emil—and she couldn’t face her brother’s empty gaze.

“Master, have some porridge. You must pull yourself together for Madam Emil’s funeral. Madam Emil left with a smile; she surely wouldn’t want to see you like this from heaven,” Zhou Liuzi said, offering a bowl of meat porridge, his face full of helplessness.

“Yesterday I thought Emil and I would be fine. People like us are nothing to those nobles—perhaps, after all this time, they’ve forgotten us. Only now do I realize, with a mere flick of a finger, they crush us like ants. The powerful Censor Yang Zhao, Lord Yang, holds sway in court, and I see no hope of revenge. Not to mention Lord Yang—I can’t even find the culprit who poisoned Emil. Zhou Liuzi, am I useless? When I die, what face can I show Emil and our child?”

Lu Liao’s face was full of despair, gazing hopelessly at the gray sky.

“Brother, it’s all my fault. I failed to protect Sister-in-law. But I saw the fruit vendor girl eat several fruits herself. Sister-in-law washed the fruit thoroughly before eating—how could she still have been poisoned?” Madam Pei said, tearfully and aggrieved.

Lu Liao weakly waved her hand. “It’s not your fault. She could have taken the antidote beforehand, so she was unharmed. Poisoning the flesh so it appears normal—I know several methods, let alone those true masters.”

“But the girl looked no more than thirteen or fourteen, hardly fierce. Though her gaze was sharp—I couldn’t withstand her stare,” Madam Pei replied timidly, her usual confidence gone.

Lu Liao gave a bitter smile, swallowed the meat porridge Zhou Liuzi handed her. “Censor Yang Zhao and this poison-wielding girl assassin—this hatred for my wife and child, I’ll remember it. One day, I will avenge them.”

Emil, surrounded by flowers and dressed in her finest tribal gown, wore a gentle smile, lying quietly atop the wooden pyre like a sleeping princess.

Words from past days still echoed in his ears; warmth lingered on his fingertips. But now, she had left him, sleeping deeply, never to wake. Tears streamed down Lu Liao’s face as she lifted the torch, unable to cast it onto the wood beneath Emil.

“Brother Lu, restrain your grief. The sacred fire will purify her, and her pure soul will become the brightest star in the sky, watching over you, loving you,” An Renzhi, accompanied by his beautiful young wife, Wang Ruyu, Lu Jiu’s eighth sister, came to Lu Liao’s side, paid respects to Emil, and gently comforted him.

He touched a small brocade pouch at his chest, containing a lock of Emil’s hair. Lu Liao closed his eyes and threw the torch.

The oil-soaked wood blazed up with a roar, the fierce flames licking hungrily at Emil’s body.

Bai Liangqi, draped in mourning, knelt before the pyre and wailed, heart-rending, causing Madam Pei to break down in sorrow beside him.

Lu Liao kept his eyes tightly shut, unable to stem his tears or block out the sound. His chest ached as if his soul, along with Emil, was being burned by the wild flames.

Within days, Lu Liao and his companions returned to the grasslands of the Kang tribe.

Seeing Bai Liangqi holding the memorial tablet and Lu Liao carrying the urn of ashes, Kang Rizhi wept bitterly and withdrew to his tent. Kang Zhimu’s face was dark, and he struck Lu Liao’s face several times. Lu Liao clung to the urn, secretly wishing his brother-in-law would hit him more.

Yet Kang Zhimu seemed drained of strength, kneeling on the ground, clutching his head and crying.

The sky was still blue, the sheep still white, the grassland still beautiful. But the beautiful young woman beside him had become nothing but a small urn of ashes. Lu Liao shouted with all his strength, letting Black Cloud and Snow run wildly, scattering the ashes from the urn across the beautiful prairie.

With tears in his smile, Lu Liao gazed at the last wisps of ash dancing in the air, choking back his words: “You’ll never again be trapped in a small cage, nor lie alone in the damp, dark earth. This blue sky, these white clouds, this beautiful grassland will forever accompany you.”

He led Black Cloud and Snow to the herd, patting its neck. “Big Black, you are the prince of the prairie, with countless beloved mares. Go—you should never have been forced to leave them.”

Black Cloud and Snow gave a long whinny and galloped toward the herd.

Kang Zhimu, with a face full of grief and anger, rode up to Lu Liao, glancing apologetically at his bruised face. Knowing the circumstances, he understood Lu Liao could not be wholly blamed, but still could not forgive him for failing to protect his sister and unborn nephew.

Two children, dressed in mourning, lingered nearby, speaking softly in farewell. Kang Zhimu glared hatefully toward Chang’an, then looked anxiously at his daughter Kang Tisi.

“May Emil’s tragedy never happen to Kang Tisi.”

Lu Liao gazed blankly at the grassland beside him. Emil had scattered into the wind upon this prairie. Their half-year together now seemed a dream, unreal.

“Emil will always live within us. If you ever get the chance, come back to visit her,” Kang Zhimu said, pointing to his chest, his tone bittersweet.

Lu Liao nodded, his figure lonely as he walked toward Zhou Liuzi and Madam Pei, waiting nearby.

Black Cloud and Snow, like a king surrounded by beautiful mares, began to patrol his kingdom. A breeze stirred, Black Cloud and Snow pricked up his ears, as if listening to whispers in the wind. Suddenly, he gave a long whinny and sped toward Lu Liao, leaving Bai Liangqi far behind.

Lu Liao stroked his head with deep emotion, still unwilling to take him away.

“It must have heard Emil’s call in the wind. Let it follow you—you should take it with you,” Kang Zhimu said, watching the wind ripple the grass into waves.

Lu Liao buried his head against Black Cloud and Snow, tears dripping onto the grass.

Days later, at the Ten Mile Pavilion, An Renzhi gazed regretfully at Lu Liao. “Have you considered? Joining the Prefecture of Fanyang’s military governor would be a way out.”

Lu Liao slowly shook his head. “In Chang’an, I have a grandfather over sixty, and a young wife waiting for me. I appreciate your kindness, Brother An. If you come to Chang’an, I’ll treat you to a drink.”

Bai Liangqi climbed into Lu Jiu’s carriage. Lu Liao glanced back toward the grassland, then followed the caravan toward Chang’an.

At the foot of Cloud Mist Mountain, Lu Liao looked at Madam Pei in surprise.

“I failed to protect Sister-in-law. I’ll pay you with my life—isn’t that fair?” Madam Pei declared boldly.

“What would I do with your life?” Lu Liao replied irritably.

“I don’t care—I want to see Chang’an, eat and drink with you, is that so wrong?” Madam Pei finished and galloped ahead.