Chapter 885: The Canopy of War: Dispatches from the Boudoir

Rongguo Prefecture, East Road Courtyard, Baoyu Courtyard.

The main chamber was lavishly furnished, with brocade curtains and embroidered hangings of vivid beauty; the canopy bed hung with green silk curtains patterned with insects and birds.

Before the bed stood a richly inlaid blue bronze incense burner shaped like a peony of wealth, its charcoal burning with red Xiaoxiang incense slices, filling the air with thick, sweet, cloying fragrance that made one feel drunk.

The canopy on the canopy bed hung half-drawn; two figures, disheveled and entangled, rolled together, their snowy skin half-revealed, punctuated by laughter and gasps.

The young maid Chunyan carried a copper basin and reached the door, about to knock, when she heard strange sounds from within and immediately froze.

She asked: “Sister Xiren, the hot water is ready—shall I bring it in now?”

From inside came Xiren’s voice, slightly breathless: “Not yet—bring it later.”

Chunyan pouted, annoyed—the copper basin was heavy, and now she’d made a pointless trip—but dared not speak out, so she carried it away.

On the canopy bed, Baoyu was growing eager when suddenly his cheek was struck—he cried out in pain, stopped struggling involuntarily.

Xiren gave a light push, sliding him off her, secretly relieved.

She felt inexplicably weak—since the woman entered the room, Second Master had already taken Cai Xia once.

The rest were all hollow pretenders, empty shells of false dragons and phony phoenixes, yet he never tired of it—how long would he go on like this?

————

Hearing Baoyu cry out in pain, Xiren couldn’t help feeling pity—it had become a habit over the years, almost instinctive.

She saw the bruise still dark on his left cheek, five clear finger marks, and frowned: “It’s been nearly two days—why hasn’t the bruise faded?”

Master’s hand was too cruel—he struck so hard, what if he injured Second Master?”

Baoyu, seeing Xiren’s tender expression and deep concern, felt a surge of pleasure.

Though his full assault had failed to breach the inner citadel, he’d still gained enough from her, and warmth had begun to rise.

He said seriously: “Sister, you know my nature—I never follow the crowd. I must hold fast to my own views.”

Xiren quickly dressed, covering some of her exposed skin; hearing Baoyu speak this way again, she felt a sudden weariness, a heaviness in her chest.

She said: “Second Master, we servants are bound to you for life—if you thrive and prosper, that’s our lifelong fortune.

Think of us, understand our hearts, and heed my advice—it will spare you much trouble and bring you peace.”

Baoyu, moved by her sincerity and still flushed from their intimacy, seized her hand.

Beaming, he spoke sweetly: “Whatever you say, whether ten words or a hundred—I’ll obey every one.”

————

Xiren smiled: “Why so many? Just heed a few of my words—if you change even a little, your life will run smoother.

First: the household situation is no longer what it was. Never again speak of scholars as ‘greedy parasites’—in public or private.

After the fifteenth, you’ll enter the Imperial Academy. Don’t dare utter such words about the Academy—don’t invite more trouble.”

I know you have your own views—but you must realize: if your views displease Master and others, you must be cautious.

Having your own views is good—but keep them inside. Why force them out and anger Master and others? It brings you no benefit.

You’ve always been clever and bright—you understand me. This is the most important point. Trust me—it’s always right.”

Baoyu, once filled with tenderness, felt half his mood drained by Xiren’s earnest words.

But he knew she meant well—even if her views were shallow.

He replied vaguely: “I promise, Sister—I won’t care about others’ obsession with fame. I’ll keep my own purity. I’ll speak less henceforth.”

————

Xiren sighed in relief: “Second: your studies at the Imperial Academy are Master’s top priority.

Never let your studies become entangled with filial duty—it’s too dangerous a topic; others will seize on it.

Master’s anger stems from this—he may be strict, but he truly favors you.

Think carefully: when you study at the Imperial Academy, you won’t be able to attend often at Grandmother’s side—that’s normal.

Just as Third Master goes to war, away for months, unable to serve Grandmother—he’s not the only one.

The household has Master, Lady, and all the young ladies—they fulfill filial duty on your behalf. That’s sufficient.

You and Third Master are occupied with study and office; your absence is understandable. Don’t bring it up again.

Those with black hearts will hear it and twist it—not that you refuse to study, but that you use filial duty as an excuse.

They’ll accuse you of ulterior motives—mocking Third Master as a mere official who knows nothing of family filial rites. That would spark great scandal.”

————

Baoyu grew increasingly irritated—he didn’t care what kind of book he read; Grandmother never cared for books.

If he wasn’t by Grandmother’s side fulfilling filial duty, how would she know his worth? Now that he’d moved to the East Road Courtyard, wouldn’t he grow even more distant from her?

Compared to this, what did those ‘greedy parasites’ at the Imperial Academy matter?

But even to Xiren, he couldn’t voice these thoughts.

He sighed: “My views will never be understood by others. Since no one wants to hear them, I’ll stop speaking.

If I neglect filial duty because of this, let it be on my head.”

Xiren felt uneasy, but at least Baoyu had agreed—she’d let it pass for now, and deal with it later.

She continued: “I know you dislike officialdom and economic matters, and despise the stale doctrines of sages.

But the world loves them—you must understand this.

So don’t voice them aloud—everyone’s face will be saved. Even if you dislike studying, pretend to like it.

Look no further than this East Road Courtyard—it offers a perfect example.

I’ve been watching these days: Huan Brother, guided by Third Young Lady, has grasped this truth.

He used to dislike studying even more than you—now he pretends to never put down his books.

The maids and old women passing by say he hides in his room, swaying his head, mumbling ‘zhi hu zhe ye’—he’s mastered the act perfectly.

Aunt Zhao is delighted—she’s surely whispered sweet nothings to Master. Now Master favors Third Master Huan more, often visiting him to watch him study.

You must take warning, Second Master—learn from Huan’s cleverness. Pretend before Master—it will make father and son more harmonious.

The world works by drops wearing through stone—if you persist like this, the household will keep veering off course, and Master’s heart will belong only to Huan.

If rumors spread that Huan, a mere bastard, is more favored than you, the legitimate heir, won’t you lose face?”

————

Baoyu endured Xiren’s nagging; he’d half-accepted her earlier points—but when he heard the last one, he could bear it no longer.

He snapped: “You’re wrong, Sister. I’m a pure soul—I hate the world’s pretense, its hollow show of virtue.

Huan was once somewhat genuine—now he’s been corrupted, pretending to study hard just to win Master’s favor.

The sages’ words may be outdated, but they must not be trampled on like this.

Huan’s shameless act is utterly revolting—I would never stoop to it.

Even if my actions displease Master, that’s my fate. Even if I die because of these people, I’ll do so willingly!”

————

Xiren saw Baoyu revert to his old ways, spouting useless words again, and felt a wave of discouragement.

She didn’t expect her words to make him awaken overnight.

At least she’d spoken three points—he’d agreed to two. Her effort wasn’t wasted.

With time, continued persuasion would bear fruit.

She added: “You’ve agreed to two—that’s enough to appease for now. But one more thing needs your attention.

The household is full of gossip, and you’ve just moved to the East Road Courtyard. With marriage looming, you mustn’t invite scandal.

The fifteenth is coming—though Third Master’s campaign has reduced feasts and operas, we’ll still visit relatives.

At that time, Auntie Xia of the Osmanthus family and the new Lady will come to pay respects to Grandmother.

When guests gather, you must watch more and speak less—be extra cautious in speech. Don’t invite any mishaps.

The Mongols are growing bolder; rumors say the Nine Gates will close in a few days to block refugees, lest unrest spread in the city.

Third Master is now fighting the Mongols—everyone is watching. Don’t dare discuss this matter before others.

Many things, if unspoken, bring no right or wrong. Remember this well.”

Baoyu, listening to Xiren’s endless chatter, felt the warmth and lust from their intimacy vanish completely.

He grew deeply annoyed, gave her vague replies, then crawled under the covers pretending to sleep, to escape her nagging.

————

East of the Divine Capital, twenty li southward: Wawu Town.

Under the moonlight, the small town reeked of heavy blood; indiscriminate slaughter filled every alley and street.

Dying resistance, pitiful pleas—all useless, crushed instantly beneath iron hooves and curved blades, without distinction.

The killers and the victims were like two species—will and emotion unequal; pity and sympathy worthless; destruction and trampling natural.

On a high ground north of the town, hundreds of iron-clad guards surrounded a young general like stars circling the moon.

The general was in his twenties, clad in armor, wearing a steel helm, broad-shouldered, heavy-faced, radiating fierce strength.

He was Manhai, second son of Andahan. He’d received secret orders from Andahan to lead twenty thousand elite Mongol cavalry along hidden forest paths west of Yunzhi Mountain.

Along the way, he’d encountered several Zhou Army units moving north; to conceal his route, he detoured, arriving at Wawu Town half a day past the three-day deadline.

He gazed coldly down at the town’s bloody massacre, his eyes showing no mercy—as if it were ordinary.

He said: “Seal every exit tightly—leave no living thing. Not a single soul must escape.”

Father Khan’s secret orders specifically warned: secret reports from the Divine Capital indicate the town’s farmers traded grain with the city.

If even one person escapes, within one night our movements will be exposed—Father Khan’s surprise raid strategy will fail completely!”

The deputy commander said: “Prince, rest assured—the town is surrounded in two layers. Scouts patrol three li beyond. Not even a bird can fly out.”

Manhai took the map from his guard and, under the bright moonlight, studied it carefully.

He took another pouch from his bosom and carefully verified the secret orders inside.

He said: “Within twelve li of this location, there are two more Da Zhou villages; according to secret reports from Shenjing, their populations are slightly smaller than Wawu Village.”

Though these two villages are somewhat distant, they maintain close ties with Wawu Village.

Once daylight comes, any movement of people will make it easy for word to leak out.