Chapter 19: Shadows of the Pear Garden (Nineteen) Newcomers laugh, old ones weep. …

Following the sound of words, Xie Zhiyan's thoughts drifted far, far away.

That day, the young man was overjoyed, clasping hands as he emerged from the gates of the Zhao Family Pear Garden. Unexpectedly, he ran into someone he hadn't seen in a long time.

Xie Cang, his father.

"Father," the young man said, his smile fading as he walked towards the armored figure a few steps away. "You're back?"

Xie Cang, a sturdy figure with sharp features and a commanding presence, looked at his youngest son and said in a deep voice, "Why aren't you training in the training grounds instead of hanging out in such a filthy place?"

Anger welled up between Xie Zhiyan's brows as he retorted, "This isn't a filthy place! It's better than your father always coming back to visit prostitutes!"

The deputy commander beside him, anxious, quickly said, "Young Master, how can you speak to the general like that?"

"Then what should I say?" Xie Zhiyan looked at the deputy commander. "He was the first to disrespect me!"

Without even glancing at Xie Cang's expression, he turned and stormed off.

The deputy commander tried to chase him, but Xie Cang stopped him.

Xie Cang watched his son's retreating figure, his gaze dark.

Before Xie Zhiyan could even enter his home, his mother, who had been staying inside for a long time, called him back. Xue Ning, wearing elaborate makeup and a splendid silk dress, asked, "Did you go to the opera?"

Xue never questioned him, usually unwilling to even glance at him, but today, contrary to her usual practice, she pressed him. Xie Zhiyan paused, turned, and nodded.

"How was her singing?"

Back then, Xie Zhiyan went to opera mostly to see the performers, unable to discern quality. He nodded muffledly, "She sang very well."

"Zhao Jinyi?"

Xie Zhiyan, not yet aware that Zhao Jinfan had an older sister, shook his head and said, "Not her."

Xue Ning asked again, "Compared to me?"

Before he could finish his words, Xie Zhiyan suddenly looked up and asked, surprised, "You can sing opera?"

Xue Ning smiled, but didn't answer, then stormed off.

That night, someone performed opera in the back garden of the Xie mansion all night.

The servants said, "General Xie advised, but Xue wouldn't listen."

"She's gone mad."

...

A year later, something happened in the Zhao family.

That night, Xue Ning, dressed in a blue opera costume, sang alone in the garden. That was all. It awakened the gravely ill Xie Zhiyan.

In those days, Xie Zhiyan, disinterested in martial arts, had repeatedly sneaked out of the training grounds, spending his days listening to opera and singing, earning him beatings from Xie Cang. He then denied him visits, claiming he was ill, leaving only a few bottles of medicine.

Xie Zhiyan, feverish and sweating, awoke from his sleep. Seeing his mother, dressed in her theatrical costume, standing at the head of his bed, he dazedly asked, "Mother, what's wrong?"

"Your sweetheart is dying," Xue Ning replied, expressionless.

Like a tidal wave, Xie Zhiyan sprang to his feet, panicking, "What's wrong with her?"

Xue, usually reluctant to engage in conversation, patiently recounted the siege on the Zhao family. After hearing his mother's account, Xie Zhiyan, resigned to the pain, rolled out of bed.

Before leaving, Xue's face revealed a tenderness she had never shown him before. She urged him, "Zhiyan, live well and treat her well."

"If you leave, don't come back."

Xie Zhiyan didn't understand at the time that tears had suddenly welled up in his usually cold mother's eyes, nor did he understand why she had said such a thing. Thinking only of Zhao Jinfan, he hurriedly replied and left.

Xue released her son's hand, lowering her brows and whispering, "I'm not a good mother."

A heavy rain fell outside.

Xie Zhiyan didn't hear her parting words clearly. Fortunately, he didn't obey his mother's final instructions. After seeing Zhao off, he returned home, covered in mud. Instead, he

saw a foot-long white silk hanging from the beam, its silken garments fluttering in the wind and rain.

The rain was pouring.

Xie Zhiyan walked towards the locust tree in the courtyard like a zombie, watching as servants lowered his mother from the tree and carried her back into the house.

The surroundings were in chaos, everyone looked flustered, but Xie Zhiyan felt that he was quite idle. He looked around blankly, and heard the wind outside. It seemed that he heard crying again, and it seemed that he heard his mother singing.

With a blank look in his eyes, he slumped to the ground. When he fell, he accidentally knocked the letter off his mother's dressing table.

The yellow page letter fell into her hands. The envelope read: My son Xie Zhiyan, to you personally.

Xie Zhiyan's hand trembled as he opened it and read -

My son Zhiyan:

The rain is drizzling, the leaves of the ancient locust tree are falling, and the cold wind is biting. I write under the lamp, hoping that the letter will convey my thoughts. When you read it, I will be like a wisp of soul, dispersing into clouds and smoke.

What I say now, I want to tell others, but no one listens. They all say that I am crazy and talking nonsense. I hope you will not have such thoughts, just read it.

I am Xue Ning of the Xue family in Sui'an. I was born in the opera garden. I listened to music and watched operas morning and night, and sometimes sang and recited in my dreams. I loved opera since I was young and cherished it as my life. Yet my mother was born in humble circumstances, and my life, like a drifting duckweed

, was a distant memory. After many journeys back and forth, I was fortunate to find a mentor who taught me and a noble friend who assisted me. By the time I reached my teens, I had achieved fame through singing. I had been delighted by the arrival of a vibrant spring, only to find it was the quiet arrival of a withered autumn.

Frivolous individuals, playboys, and reckless individuals, like flies and red worms, constantly disturbed my cultivation. I resisted, and they turned against me, spreading rumors that I was a demon like a fox spirit. I incurred public wrath and were spitted upon.

Unable to bear the worry, I considered fading into the waters, but someone saved me. That person was your father, Xie Cang.

That night, the moon was bright and the autumn wind was chilly. I was utterly utterly miserable. Xie Cang saw me, took off his shirt, and draped it over me. I recognized him as a guest from the audience. He said, "I, too, love the theatre. Would you like to come south with me?"

I nodded, joyfully believing that spring would finally arrive, only to be struck by the sudden onslaught of winter.

At the beginning of my journey south, Xie Cang set up a stage for a play and accompanied me. He also taught me poetry and literature, and I was delighted, considering her my ideal partner. However, mindful of my humble origins, I dared not accept his proposal.

Thank you, Cang, for alleviating my fears. I will marry, but only as a concubine.

I grieve.

In the courtyard, flowers bloom in a hundred colors, vying for splendor. I tire of them, weary of them, and become enchanted by theatrics. I began as a single person, but ultimately became known as the "Shuangsheng."

The new laughs, the old weeps.

I am tired,

my last song.

As an actor, my voice resonated throughout the land; as a concubine, I sacrificed myself physically and mentally; as a mother, I am consumed by guilt.

This letter conveys my feelings. I do not ask for your forgiveness for my mistakes, but only hope that as spring passes and autumn comes, you will always have a smile by your side. Dress warmly in cold weather, cool in the heat, and stay healthy.

This farewell letter, I don't know what to say. One more thing to add:

Your father has lofty ambitions for the heavens, yet he remains confined to this land year after year, frustrated and unable to fulfill his ambitions. Fueled by indignation, he listens to the slander of a scoundrel and contemplates a rebellion. I hope your son will dissuade him and protect our family.

Words cannot express my feelings, so take care.

— Xue Ning's

mother, her father's rebellion...

With one blow after another, Xie Zhiyan felt his heart tremble, fainted, and fell seriously ill.

During his illness, he repeatedly tried, intentionally or unintentionally, to stop his father, Xie Cang, but was confined to his bedroom, falsely told he had contracted an epidemic, and was not allowed to visit. Later, Xie Cang allowed the enemy to invade and marched north, aiming for the capital, but was ambushed in the Jiangbei area. Later, his entire family was executed, and nine generations of his clan were implicated.

He escaped death due to illness.

He was sent to the White Jade Monastery on Yuntai Mountain to "recuperate," known as Zhiyan, and rarely seen. When he returned to Chiyao, his face covered, the city dwellers reported that the young master of the Xie family had died of illness at home before being executed.

He had assumed that with Xie Xu dead, Xie Zhiyan would live.

But still…

Xie Zhiyan regained consciousness from his swirling memories, tears still streaming down his face and a splitting headache. He heard a sound in a trance, gathering his thoughts and searching for its source.

Suddenly, Xie Zhiyan felt something drop from his shoulder, thinking it was a spider. He reached up to pick it up, only to hear a ding, and it was a key. Attached to the key was a rolled-up piece of paper.

Suspicious, Xie Zhiyan gently placed Zhao Jinfan against the wall, stood up, and limped to pick up the key from the ground. He unfolded the paper and took a closer look. It showed a drawing of a fox and a wolf cub.

Just a few simple strokes, but the outline is very vivid. It is the painting method he taught Wen Gu in his spare time when he was teaching Wen Gu to sing opera.

Surprised, Xie Zhiyan glanced left and right outside the cell and inserted the key into the lock.

Click -

the lock opened.

Without thinking, Xie Zhiyan gently helped the unconscious Zhao Jinfan up from the ground, opened the cell door, looked around, and rushed out.

Strangely enough, everyone in the cell was asleep. He walked smoothly all the way and soon left the yamen.

"Brother Xie, come here!" Ye Qingzhan hid behind the stone lion and said to Xie Zhiyan who paused to think.

Xie Zhiyan saw her when he turned sideways, and ran towards her with a lot of surprise and anxiety. He found that Wen Gu and Qinghuai were there.

"Ali, Alang, Huairen, are you all okay?" he asked.

Ye Qingzhan replied, "It's okay, we ran away that day."

Xie Zhiyan wanted to ask again, but heard Wen Gu frown and say, "We can't stay here for long, let's go first."

He nodded, but his eyes were white and his body fell down. Qinghuai hurriedly took Zhao Jinfan from his arms, and Wen Gu supported him.

Qinghuai said without giving any room for argument, "I will hold the leader Jinfan." He looked at Xie Zhiyan who suddenly fainted, and said to Wen Gu, "You carry him."

Wen Gu glanced at him and helped Xie Zhiyan up.

Seeing that both of them had picked up the people, Ye Qingzhan said, "I'm going to set up a barrier."

She recently discovered the wonderful use of barriers, which can be enlarged or reduced, and can also be invisible and concealed, so she gathered several people in the barrier, quickly shuttled through the streets, and headed towards their destination.

People in the illusion have no shadows, which is convenient for them. With the barrier as a protection, they can come and go freely.

They want to reunite Zhao Jinfan, Xie Zhiyan and Ayang. Li Zhixing chased Ah Yang, the surrounding landscape shifting as he raced, from early summer to deep winter, from lush vegetation to withered, snow-covered landscapes. Amidst the icy snow, the young man he had pursued suddenly returned. He was no longer dressed the way he had when he left—dressed in night clothes, a black scarf covering his face, resembling a killer. 

Afraid of being discovered, Li Zhixing cast a spell to shrink himself, climbed a tree, and, as the young man passed, clung to his back. 

Shadows have their advantages. 

As Ah Yang walked, the world shifted from bitter winter to early spring, and the ice thawed. Arriving at the bamboo stream, Ah Yang paused and gazed at himself in the water. He was covered in blood and grime. Without a word, he dove into the stream. 

Li Zhixing, a fast runner, jumped down. 

The spring chill was still chilly, and Li Zhixing shivered with cold. Instead, he dove headfirst into the cold water. 

He was ill. 

He needed treatment. 

Li Zhixing hid behind a rock and shivered, but his brain was cleared by the cold, and he understood: Your hoarseness is caused by yourself! 

Splash - 

Ah Yang emerged from the water and swam towards the shore. 

Perhaps because he was afraid of being close to home, Ah Yang kept wandering around the water after getting ashore, talking to himself.