After Being Mistakenly Taken for a Fellow Traveler by Emperor Long Aotian - Chapter 151

“Giving me something like this, are you trying to fool me?”

 

He heard the woman’s voice.

 

“I occasionally make things like this to deceive people.”

 

Zhou Xun did not feel tired, nor did he feel relieved. He simply said, “Once you open this letter, you’ll know. After reading it, you’ll understand whether the person who wrote this letter is the head of the Lin family or not.”

 

The sound of rustling came from behind the screen — it was the sound of an envelope being opened. Then, the sound of pages being flipped followed.

 

Zhou Xun sat there, listening to the daughter reading the letter her father left for her. He stared at the ceiling, thinking that he was merely an outsider in this.

 

But he heard the sound of that beam of starlight from over twenty years ago falling to the ground. It pierced through the dust of the archives, through the time buried and stored away for years, and arrived here from the window.

 

The proof of this was the sound of water droplets hitting the ground.

 

They were a woman’s tears.

 

More than twenty years ago, the head of the Lin family had written this letter at the end of his exile. There was no light at night, only a dim oil lamp lent to him by the guard watching over him. He bent his head, holding a pen, and wrote bit by bit. In the freezing winter, after writing a few lines, he would rub his fingers together to keep them nimble. Looking out at the pitch-black sky through the window, he thought about how his daughter must already be married.

 

There was so much he wanted to write, so he could only spare some time each night to write a little. He told his daughter that he was doing well now and that she shouldn’t worry about him. He told her to remember to dress warmly as the weather was cold.

 

He told her about how he had seen things on this journey he had never encountered before in his life. Things he had only glimpsed briefly from behind the curtains of a carriage. For example, he passed through a mountain village populated only by elderly people because the young men, women, and children had been slaughtered during a Northern Wei invasion over a decade ago.

 

He, who had once read countless books and seen many paintings, had thought he understood the world. But in that moment, he realized how small his understanding truly was. He had prided himself on being learned, believing he knew more than anyone else, but he hadn’t even known the stories of the villages just a few hundred miles away. He realized he wasn’t as knowledgeable as he thought — he was narrow-minded.

 

— And he hoped his daughter could see more of the world in the future.

 

He also wrote that the guard escorting him was actually a good man. At first, the guard shouted and cursed at him because of the “truths” that the magistrate Qin told the people. Before he left, some villagers secretly gave him medicinal herbs, which eventually reached the hands of the guard, who then passed them on to him. The guard later came to believe he was a good person and left instructions for the guard in Yunzhou before departing.

 

The guard in Yunzhou treated him well and lent him an oil lamp, allowing him to write many things. Besides this letter, he had much else to write.

 

In the past, he had written countless melancholic and romantic verses. But now, he had more meaningful things to write about. Life was still long, and he would write until it was all finished.

 

He did not regret taking in Qin Liang, only lamented his own narrowness and naivety in the past. Born into a wealthy family, his world had been one of flowers, birds, fish, landscapes, and ancient texts, but it had lacked the lives of the people closest to him.

 

Finally—

 

“My father, he doesn’t hate me.” Zhou Xun heard the woman’s suppressed cries. They were heart-wrenching sobs, as if her soul had been torn apart. “He knows… he knew all along. Nanny was able to enter his study because of me… because of my defiance. I was angry at him and wanted to play a prank. I was the one who accidentally told the Zhou family about his study, told the Ye family about Qin Liang’s whereabouts… And even after the incident, I listened to people blame him for harboring Qin Liang, and in my heart, I blamed him too… He was such a good person… my father… and I ruined him like this… Before he left, I even shouted at him, saying, ‘If only you weren’t so kind-hearted…’

 

“He knew everything. He didn’t hate me. He forgave me. He knew all along, he knew.”

 

— Finally, the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.

 

Why did Lin Yan transform from a kind-hearted young lady into someone so consumed by madness? It wasn’t just because of the betrayal and coldness she had endured.

 

It was because of the profound guilt she felt toward her father.

 

Her innocence and kindness had been weaponized by the Ye family to destroy the Lin family. Over the years, she had countless sleepless nights, endlessly picking at her own wounds, searching for her faults, and turning them into knives that she used to stab herself. Ultimately, in her overwhelming guilt and madness—

 

She trampled her once pure and kind-hearted self into the mud, cutting off any possibility of future happiness.

 

She didn’t leave the Zhou family and allowed herself to remain there, enduring their torment. Wasn’t that a form of self-punishment and exile? With her intelligence, leaving the Zhou family and starting anew elsewhere wouldn’t have been difficult.

 

There was only one reason for all of this—she hated herself and sought to punish herself. She could kneel as punishment, endure the pain of giving birth to the enemy’s child, and see it as her retribution. She could cry in the Zhou family’s torment but never leave because her tears were not for her suffering but for her remorse toward her father. She even chose to name the child “Xun,” meaning “inferior,” showing no care, because to her, this child wasn’t a child at all.

 

It was a source of pain, something she loathed—a tool for atonement.

 

Qin Liang’s appearance finally gave her an outlet—an opportunity to release all her pain and regret.

 

Zhou Xun said nothing. He quietly listened to Lin Yan’s cries and the sound of her tears soaking the paper.

 

He was suddenly reminded of many years ago. Back then, when they were still in the Zhou household, Lin Yan often sat in her room crying. He would lean against the door, knowing that if he went in to comfort her, she would push him away with a cold face. Back then, he felt like his entire world had been drenched.

 

He squatted on the ground, drawing a small house in the dirt with a stick. A small house with green hills and clear waters behind it, and two people in front—himself and his mother. He thought, if only he could lift the roof of the Zhou household and take her away, then it would never rain in that little house.

 

That was the meaning of his childhood. But at this moment, he saw all his childhood fantasies shatter. What he had believed to be the source of his entire world’s rain wasn’t what he thought it was at all.

 

Yet, in this moment, as he heard Lin Yan’s cries again, he no longer felt drenched. Even though the dreams that had defined his childhood and youth turned out to be nothing, he thought—

 

Finally, it’s about to clear up.

 

The crying finally stopped.

 

“The guard who treated him well and later sent the letter back to Jiangzhou, which ended up in the archives—he was from Yunzhou, wasn’t he?” Lin Yan asked.

 

“Yes. But Yunzhou has already fallen into the flames of war. The Northern Wei invaded Yunzhou and killed many of its people.”

 

Silence.

 

A deathly silence.

 

In the midst of all this quiet, Zhou Xun softly said, “I’m not the only clever one. So is Shen Huanju. From the very beginning, he knew you would come for him, and that your real target was him. He deliberately appeared there, intending to die there. For…”

 

“To calm your anger, if possible,” he said.

 

“You have a good master. He did it for you, didn’t he?” Lin Yan said softly.

 

Unknowingly, their conversation had become calm and measured. After a while, Zhou Xun added, “Actually, I’ve always wondered—how did you find his residence to assassinate him?”

 

“At first, I searched for him but couldn’t find him and was ready to give up. Until… I returned to the capital and took a look at you,” the woman said. “Then I saw you walking into that alley and realized that the owner of that house was him.”

 

Zhou Xun closed his eyes. A long time passed before he spoke softly, “Should I thank you for once coming to see me?”

 

“It’s somewhat ironic, isn’t it? I came to see you once—and it nearly led to your master’s death.”

 

Zhou Xun said nothing. After a long silence, he added, “Back then in Yanyun Pavilion, apart from the people of Prince Kang who were following me, the other group shadowing me was yours, wasn’t it?”

 

Lin Yan was silent.

 

She tacitly admitted it.

 

The sacrificial ceremony had ended, and rain began to drizzle outside. She looked out at the rain

 

Zhou Xun straightened his back; otherwise, he wasn’t sure if his body would collapse. He looked at her and thought that this stranger, whose fate had intertwined with his, was finally old. She had inexplicably brought him into this world but had never bestowed upon him the slightest blessing. His life had been a lonely mistake from the very beginning, and only today did he truly understand her and the chaotic life he had lived.

 

“I’m dying soon, perhaps even before you act. The doctor said I won’t live to see this autumn, and summer is about to end.” She smiled with her parched lips. “I should die. I’ve done so many wrong things. If my father could see me from the afterlife, see how I’ve ruined my life, he’d probably slap me across the face.”

 

“He wouldn’t,” Zhou Xun said softly. “You are his child.”

 

“But more innocent people will hate me, isn’t that what you think? My entire life has left nothing behind, just like a joke.”

 

Zhou Xun said nothing.

 

He listened as Lin Yan spoke slowly. Their conversation was so calm and procedural, like an exchange between strangers—an enemy and a captive. He listened to her accounts, her confessions of the spies she had planted within the Northern Wei Empire, her explanation of Prince Kang’s hideout, and her arrangements regarding the loyal agents she had placed with General Li. Finally, he saw her tilt her head and smile faintly: “But, I’ve left you a gift… perhaps the last thing I can do for you all.”

 

“What gift?”

 

“Qin Liang. I switched his travel documents. The checkpoints are strict now; he can’t leave the Great Jing Empire and might still be wandering somewhere. If he returns to Northern Wei, you won’t be able to catch him. The emperor of Northern Wei treats him as a foster father and will go to any lengths to protect him. Over the years, he has done all kinds of dirty and dark deeds. He will be quite the valuable gift, won’t he?” Lin Yan spoke intermittently, coughing heavily between sentences. “And as for the agents I left with General Li, they are loyal to me. I instructed them to assassinate General Li as soon as they learn of my death or that General Li is heading to Qingzhou. After that, some letters will also make their way to the capital…”

 

“Why?” Zhou Xun finally couldn’t understand and asked, “Why kill General Li? Isn’t he not the only war hero of Northern Wei?”

 

Lin Yan finally smiled, her expression showing a hint of slyness. She said softly, “They may capture a few cities and prefectures, but they will never invade Jiangzhou.”

 

“…”

 

The rain gradually stopped.

 

Zhou Xun left the private room. Before he pushed open the door, he heard Lin Yan say, “You now have a good master and people who love you… From now on, I’ll trouble you to clean up this mess for me.”

 

Zhou Xun paused for a moment and said softly, “Perhaps I’m luckier than you in some ways.”

 

He didn’t see Lin Yan’s expression and therefore didn’t know that she shook her head and said, “No, you and I are different. I have a father. He has always loved me and wanted me to grow into the best girl I could be. But even twenty years later, his letters still…”

 

—Even in such a chaotic life, she was blessed in some way.

 

Zhou Xun completely stopped in his tracks.

 

Suddenly, he heard a soft sigh, almost like a laugh.

 

“In fact, I once gave you a name—not Zhou Xun, not such a random… name.”

 

“When I was carrying you, one day I suddenly wanted to die. I looked at my belly and felt like I was a monster, that everything was monstrous. I jumped into the lake, and when I woke up, I was already on the shore. After that, the peach tree beside the courtyard bloomed. I looked at the peach blossoms and had a dream. In the dream, someone told me to live well, said my father didn’t hate me, and asked me to give my child a name and talk to him. Because no matter what, a child will love their mother and long for blessings or something like that. And I believed in his love for me. I thought it would make me happy…” Lin Yan’s voice grew softer and softer. “At the time, I thought I must be crazy to dream such a strange dream. The words in it were all nonsense. But later…”

 

“I looked at that peach tree and suddenly thought, why not give him a name? Otherwise, he never asked to be born, and yet no one would like his birth. No matter how many years passed, he would always remember that he was unwanted at birth. That would be too pitiful.”

 

“Lin Hengtou.”

 

She spoke softly.

 

“Hengtou… A journey full of fragrant grasses. That was the name I gave you.”

 

…

 

Zhou Xun didn’t speak for a long time.

 

He heard his own voice, faint and ethereal, as if in the air. He heard himself say, “… Chancellor Lu, he…”

 

“He loves that kind-hearted young lady, doesn’t he? That young lady he already found, existing in his dreams and memories, pure and beautiful. Since that’s the case, there’s no need for him to know about me now. Because that perfect girl already lives on in his memories.”

 

That perfect girl also lived on in her father’s memories.

 

Zhou Xun walked down from the teahouse. He saw the rain starting to fall—big, heavy drops. He thought about all the things he still had to do: announcing Lin Yan’s death, handling her burial, waiting for General Li’s demise, capturing Qin Liang, relying on the intelligence to pacify Yunzhou, seeking out Old Man Shen, executing the head of the Ye family, and waiting for the war to end…

 

Then, he heard a guard report, “The ‘general’ has passed away.”

 

Her prolonged illness had left her holding on by a thread, and at this moment, that thread had finally snapped.

 

Zhou Xun replied softly, “Understood.”

 

He looked up at the still-cloudy sky. He had so many tasks ahead, and there was still someone he needed to accompany on their journey. Yet, at that moment, he seemed to catch a faint glimmer of light on the horizon.

 

That light wasn’t bright, but for him, it was enough. Just that tiny glimmer was sufficient to give him the strength he needed to carry on through the rest of his life.

 

“Lin Hengtou, a journey full of fragrant grasses,” he murmured softly. “So, I do have a name like that.”

 

His childhood was still devoid of love, of hope. Flowers, candies, and boundless care are luxuries for the fortunate. They rely on such warm childhoods to confirm their existence’s worth and move confidently through life.

 

But for those who once walked in darkness, they need very little—just a faint glimmer of light. A faint glimmer is already enough to be a source of strength, enough to illuminate all the undeserved years of the first half of their life.

 

It turns out he once had such a beautiful name. Not “Xun”—implying inferiority—but a name like Rong Haoyu’s, a name filled with blessings. His birth wasn’t so hated and hopeless after all.

 

His name was Lin Hengtou.

 

That name was the best gift he had ever received as a living being.

 

And he thought, in that moment, that his life was truly fortunate.