Xie Chichun - Chapter 33

When they returned to the Duke of Heng’s residence, dusk had already fallen. The incident of the fierce tiger attacking Emperor Yuanjing in the temporary palace was no small matter—both Xie Zhen and Xie Yu were anxious and went straight to consult the Old Master Xie upon their return. Lady Yue, naturally, wouldn’t act recklessly during such a critical time. She sent the sisters back to their quarters and headed to Lady Xie’s chambers.

Xie Xuan and Xie Jun returned to the Tangli Courtyard, where Lady Luo was arranging dinner. Apparently, she hadn’t expected the sisters to return so soon and froze in surprise for a moment.

Ever since Lady Luo was released from confinement, she had knelt outside the ancestral hall every noon without fail, rain or shine. She must have pleaded with Xie Zhen, but since he clearly hadn’t relented, her expression had grown increasingly sour.

Now, seeing Xie Jun and Xie Xuan, she was no longer as attentive as she had been when first released.

After the sisters greeted her, Lady Luo asked, “Why are you back so early? Where is your father?”

“Father went to see Grandfather,” Xie Jun replied, looking visibly weary.

Lady Luo’s expression dimmed slightly with disappointment. Glancing around the room, she said, “We thought you’d return in a few days, so we didn’t prepare enough food.” Hesitating, she seemed about to call a servant to have more dishes made for the sisters.

Xie Jun, unwilling to accept such half-hearted hospitality, said, “Please go ahead with your meal, Madam. Xuanxuan and I just want some congee.” She then instructed a maid to inform the kitchen—each of them would have two types of congee and four side dishes.

The sisters, still shaken from the day’s events and exhausted from the journey, retired to their rooms to rest.
That evening, the minced pork and pumpkin congee, along with the side dishes, were quite delicious. Xie Xuan ate a little more than usual and, worried about indigestion, took a slow stroll in the courtyard under the moonlight.

With the Mid-Autumn Festival approaching, the nights were gradually turning colder. Even with an outer robe draped over her shoulders, she still felt a chill. Gazing up at the moon, her thoughts returned to the speculation from earlier that day—

Was there really a connection between Prince Yue and the Daoist priest Qingxu?

Had Prince Yue cultivated his hidden forces through Qingxu’s influence?

In her past life, when the Duke of Heng’s residence fell, Xie Dan had also suffered. If Prince Yue failed to ascend the throne in this lifetime, could many tragedies be avoided?

But beneath such towering ambition and desire was Xie Xuan’s own meager ability—barely enough to withstand even the slightest storm.

She was just a ten-year-old girl in the Duke of Heng’s household, with no one under her command except for her maidservants like Fangzhou. Forget thwarting Prince Yue’s path to the throne—even investigating his ties with Qingxu was beyond her strength. As for others—Xie Zhen was naturally unreliable. Her uncle Tao Congshi was willing to listen to her, but he held only a nominal position in the Court of Judicial Review and was of little use. He likely wouldn’t take a little girl’s speculations seriously.

If it came to uncovering secrets, the Black-Clad Guards would be the best choice—but Han Jie…

Xie Xuan kicked a pebble at her feet. She didn’t want to ask him for help right now!

There were still ten years before Emperor Yuanjing’s death and Prince Yue’s ascension. As long as the emperor didn’t suddenly pass away, she had enough time to prepare. There was no need to rush. Besides, acting rashly might alert the enemy. If she waited for the right moment to reveal her discovery, it might have an unexpected impact—like burning the enemy’s provisions in war. Cutting off Prince Yue’s financial support would be an excellent strategy.

With this thought, her mind cleared, and she hummed a tune as she returned to her room to rest.

However, the atmosphere in the entire capital grew increasingly tense, and the Duke of Heng’s residence was no exception. In his fury, Emperor Yuanjing had devoted all his efforts to investigating the case, even canceling the Mid-Autumn family banquet, focusing solely on capturing the culprit.

Such major cases were usually handled by the Black-Clad Guards, with the Ministry of Justice assisting. Xie Zhen, as a vice-minister, had risen through his literary skills—when it came to actual investigations, he was of little use. In recent days, no one in the capital dared to host lavish literary gatherings or banquets, so after leaving the ministry, Xie Zhen had nowhere to go and could only return home.

Yet, it seemed the couple had some unresolved conflict. Though Lady Luo often fawned over him, Xie Zhen grew increasingly cold. Whenever he entered the Tangli Courtyard, he mostly visited his daughters in the side chambers, sat briefly in the main hall, and then retreated to his study—

He even spent fewer and fewer nights in the main house.

Such unusual behavior naturally caught everyone’s attention, especially since Lady Luo had been kneeling outside the ancestral hall daily. The servants, unaware of the reason for her punishment, whispered speculations among themselves. Lady Luo must have heard some of the gossip, growing increasingly resentful and venting her frustration through sarcastic remarks directed at Xie Xuan.

Xie Jun observed all this coldly. The sisters sat in the western side chamber, slowly shelling walnuts.
Before even finishing one walnut, they had already discussed a great deal. Regarding Xie Zhen’s strange behavior, Xie Jun was also puzzled. “If Father wants Lady Luo to take good care of you, why is he giving her the cold shoulder? When she’s unhappy, you’re the one who suffers.”

Xie Xuan curled her lips in a cold smirk. “He doesn’t think that far ahead. He’s always acted on impulse—when has he ever considered the consequences?”

“Xuanxuan!” Xie Jun chided her softly. Having been raised under the Old Master Xie’s guidance, Xie Jun adhered to the principle that “children should not judge their parents.” Even if she harbored some resentment toward Xie Zhen, she never dared voice it aloud.

Xie Xuan, however, had no such reservations. She blinked mysteriously and leaned in closer. “But if Sister is willing to go somewhere with me, maybe we can find out why he’s acting so strangely.”

“You’re capable of that?” Xie Jun was intrigued. “Where?”

“The Ziling Pavilion.”

Xie Jun’s smile faded. After a long silence, she asked, “Xuanxuan… do you really want her to come back?”

“Not necessarily. Given her temperament, she might not even be willing to.”

Xie Xuan took her sister’s hand, her tone earnest. “But in this household, the only one who can truly destroy Lady Luo is her. Even if she doesn’t return, she could still help us a great deal. Sister, you know Father’s nature—he forgets pain once the wound heals, always too soft-hearted. Right now, he remembers how Lady Luo tried to harm me, but by next year or the year after, he’ll likely forget again and be deceived by her once more. By then, you’ll already be married—who will Dan’er and I have to rely on?”

“Sister—” Xie Xuan lowered her voice, but each word was firm. “As long as Lady Luo remains the lady of the house, Dan’er and I will never have peace. Now that she’s made such a grave mistake, we should strike while the iron is hot.”

Xie Jun’s fingers trembled slightly as she stared at her sister in shock. “You want to… drive Lady Luo out?”

“That would naturally be for the best.”

Xie Jun lowered her head and fell silent for a long time.

Raised under the Old Master Xie’s tutelage, she had adopted many of his principles—filial piety, familial hierarchy, and unshakable moral codes. Even if her father was not a good husband or father, to her, he was still an authority—much like those indifferent noble fathers who, beyond blood ties, barely interacted with their daughters.

Xie Jun had never imagined that children could interfere in their parents’ lives.

She sipped her tea, her heart full of hesitation.

“I also want you and Dan’er to be safe and well, but as children, there are some things we absolutely must not meddle in.”

“Well… are you coming with me or not?”

After a long internal struggle, Xie Jun finally stood. “Fine. Let’s take a walk.”

***

Outside the Ziling Pavilion, everything remained unchanged. However, Xie Jun had avoided this place ever since Tao Shi left. Her sudden visit today startled the maids and servants, who hurriedly welcomed her inside with deference.

Xie Jun’s expression was strained, but she endured it, letting Xie Xuan lead her step by step into the pavilion. Everything here felt both foreign and familiar—like a memory from a past life, something that belonged to her yet felt distant. When her gaze fell on the open door, Xie Jun frowned. “Is someone inside?”

—Hadn’t it been said that the Ziling Pavilion was to remain sealed year-round, with no one allowed inside except for biweekly cleaning?

The servant woman quickly replied, “The master is inside.”

“Him?” Xie Jun was stunned and couldn’t help but glance at Xie Xuan.

Xie Xuan admitted frankly, “I saw him coming here alone a couple of days ago. I guessed that if he wasn’t staying in the Tangli Courtyard, he’d be here killing time. Sister, don’t you want to go in and see?”

“No!” Xie Jun’s voice trembled. Standing under the old eaves, she could still see the scene from ten years ago—Tao Shi leaving with a cold face, ignoring the crying infant in swaddling clothes, ignoring her own pleading at the door.

Even if she was dissatisfied with her husband, how could she just abandon her three children? How could she be so heartless?

Painful memories, long suppressed and forgotten, surged back. Xie Jun’s hands trembled slightly, and she turned to leave.

But Xie Xuan held her back firmly.

The ten-year-old girl’s face was still childlike, but her clear black-and-white eyes held a calmness beyond her years. “Sister, no matter how painful the memory or how deep the grudge, there has to be a time to untangle it, right? If it’s always buried in your heart, it’ll fester like a poisoned wound—every touch will bring pain.”

“But Xuanxuan, you don’t know how heartless she was…” Xie Jun shook her head, as if trying to force the memories away. “When I see this pavilion, these trees, and the things inside… I can’t help it. Xuanxuan, you don’t know how much it hurts!”

The place that had once been the sweetest and warmest had shattered in a single day. The mother who had once held her close and comforted her with soft words had suddenly turned to stone, refusing to look back even when her daughter wept and begged. Couldn’t she see her daughter’s tears? Couldn’t she hear her pleas? Just because she hated Xie Zhen, did she have to abandon her children completely—without a single visit in ten years?

Xie Jun clenched her teeth.

Her palms were slick with sweat, but she resisted the urge to run. Instead, she forced herself to look inside the open door. Everything was just as she remembered—the pine-and-crane painting hanging in the center, the large desk beneath it, the wide chairs beside it.

Only, where there had once been a loving mother and a gentle father, now there was only a lonely man and his orphaned children.

Xie Jun looked down at Xie Xuan and whispered, “Xuanxuan, I can’t do it. How can a grudge be resolved just like that? If it were you, could you do it?”

Seizing the moment of Xie Xuan’s hesitation, Xie Jun quickly walked out of the courtyard.

Xie Xuan stood there, lost in thought—her sister’s resentment toward Tao Shi, born from love, must run far deeper than her own grievances against Han Li. She wanted her sister to free herself from this hatred, but what about herself? Could she let go of her resentment toward Han Li? From the desperate bite on his wrist to the golden hairpin she had driven into his chest outside Xuanguan Temple, the love and hatred buried in her heart—how could they be so easily released? Especially when Xie Jun had carried her pain for ten years, with no attempt at reconciliation from Tao Shi.

No matter why Tao Shi had left, no matter who was right or wrong in the past, to the five-year-old Xie Jun, there was only one truth—her birth mother had abandoned her without a second thought.

Powerless, Xie Xuan crouched on the ground, oblivious to the servants’ attempts to console her. She mindlessly plucked at the grass beside her, gathering it bit by bit until a small pile formed.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder. Looking up dazedly, she saw Xie Jun crouching beside her. Xie Jun’s eyes were slightly red, as if she had been crying, though no tears remained. She helped her sister stand and said softly, “Wasn’t it tiring, squatting there like a fool?”

“Sister.” Xie Xuan’s nose stung, and she buried her face in Xie Jun’s embrace. There were so many things she wanted to say, but the words stuck in her throat. She wrapped her arms around her sister’s slender waist—though it was as delicate as a willow branch, it felt like a steadfast support. Even if everyone else abandoned her, her sister would still be there.

Xie Jun hugged her back and murmured, “Xuanxuan is becoming so mature. It makes my heart ache.”

The sisters stood in silence, clinging to each other as if they were all they had in the world.

Finally, Xie Xuan straightened up, wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, and gave Xie Jun a small smile.

Xie Jun said, “Let’s go in and take a look.” But after taking two steps, she noticed her sister’s pained expression and realized, “Your legs are numb?”

“Mm…” Xie Xuan’s face twisted slightly.

She had crouched for too long, and in her daze, she hadn’t noticed. When she stood, she hadn’t moved, so the numbness hadn’t registered—but now that she tried to walk, the tingling spread rapidly from her soles to her calves, leaving them weak and prickling.

The unbearable sensation made her want to cry, but she couldn’t. She quickly sat on a stool brought by a servant, lifting her feet and patting them for a long time before the numbness faded.

The absurdity of the situation, combined with Xie Xuan’s contorted expression, lightened the sisters’ somber mood. Xie Jun couldn’t help but laugh. “Still as forgetful as ever. Who told you to squat like an idiot?” She then linked arms with Xie Xuan and led her inside.

The interior was achingly familiar—every table, chair, shelf, and cabinet bore traces of the past.

The rustling of leaves outside the window filled the strange silence, broken only by heavy, uneven breathing and the faint scent of alcohol.

The sisters exchanged puzzled glances and followed the sound to the inner chamber, where Xie Zhen lay sprawled on the daybed, surrounded by three or four empty wine jugs. The air was thick with the smell of liquor. His head hung low, and when he heard footsteps, he didn’t even look up before hurling a jug in their direction.

“Get out! Who allowed you in here?”

His voice was slurred, his posture slumped and curled in on itself—nothing like the refined and dignified heir of the Duke of Heng’s residence.

Both sisters were shocked, but Xie Jun was especially stunned. “Father?”

“Get out! All of you, get out!”

Xie Zhen continued to shout incoherently, reaching for another jug to throw, but his drunken legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor without warning. He made no effort to rise, simply tossing the jug toward them, still muttering, “Get out… all of you… Qingqing…”

His voice trailed off, and his shoulders shook slightly. He crawled back onto the daybed, fumbled for another jug, and began guzzling from it. Normally, he drank from delicate little cups, savoring the aroma and even offering commentary.

But now, he was like a crude, common drunkard, gulping straight from the jug. Wine spilled from the corners of his mouth, trickling down his chin and soaking into his collar.

Xie Jun stared at her father’s pitiful state, her fists slowly clenching.

This was her father—the esteemed heir of the Duke of Heng’s residence, the refined and cultured Vice Minister of Justice—now lying drunk on his ex-wife’s bed, reduced to incoherence. Those beautiful, broken, fragmented memories had faded ten years ago. What was the point of him drowning himself here now?

And hadn’t all this destruction been his own doing?

Xie Jun wanted to leave, but remembering Xie Xuan’s hopeful gaze, she forced herself to stay. Xie Zhen was like an ostrich—especially when it came to Tao Shi. If no one pushed him, he would never take the initiative to solve anything, choosing instead to drown in self-pity and wine.

If even she, his daughter, gave up on him, then Xie Xuan would truly be left to shoulder everything alone. Suppressing her disgust, Xie Jun stepped forward and patted Xie Zhen’s shoulder. “Father?”

“Jun’er…” Xie Zhen opened bleary eyes, staring at his daughter blankly before his gaze shifted to Xie Xuan. “Qingqing… you’ve come back?” He reached out to touch her, but Xie Jun intercepted him.

“Father, this is Xuanxuan!”

“Xuanxuan? Oh… Xuanxuan…” Xie Zhen’s voice was thick with bitterness as he stretched out his hand. “I’m useless… I’ve failed you… I was too weak, let you suffer, let you be frightened… Xuanxuan…” He tried to take another swig of wine, but Xie Jun snatched the jug away.

“Is this really how you plan to go on?” Xie Jun’s voice wavered—this was the first time she had ever confronted her father, and her upbringing left her lacking conviction. She knelt beside the daybed, staring into his clouded eyes. “If you feel you’ve wronged Xuanxuan, then find a way to make it right. Don’t just drown yourself in wine.”