Chapter Twenty-Nine: Return to Luoyang

That evening, Liu Xian returned to Dongwu and immediately informed his mother about the marriage proposal from the Duke of Juancheng’s manor.

Pregnant women are often overcome with exhaustion, as if they can never get enough sleep, and Xi Miao was no exception. When Liu Xian came to report the news, Zhang Xi Miao had only just stirred from sleep. Her eyes were clouded with confusion, as if she might drift back into slumber at any moment. But when she heard the news, she was startled, the fog in her eyes instantly dissipating. She sat up and asked in disbelief, "Piji, tell me again?"

"Yes, Mother. My teacher has found a match for me—the daughter of the Duke of Juancheng. He wants me to ask for your and Father's opinions."

So saying, Liu Xian slowly recounted the events of the past few days, the context of the engagement, his teacher’s analysis of the match, and the potential impact it might have on his future. Zhang Xi Miao listened intently, her thoughts racing—pride mingled with apprehension. Yet, by the end, she felt only a sincere sense of joy.

Once Liu Xian finished, all traces of fatigue had vanished from Zhang Xi Miao. She no longer looked like a woman six months into a difficult pregnancy; she seemed visibly younger, filled with a maiden-like yearning for the future. As she pulled Liu Xian toward her, her lips curled into a smile as sweet as honey.

She looked her son up and down, then cupped his cheeks and said with a smile, "Piji, this is a life-altering matter. You do not need to ask me; you must ask yourself. Are you willing?"

For some reason, although Liu Xian appeared extremely decisive in front of others, he always felt a subconscious softness in his mother’s presence. "Mother... I don't know. I just feel like all of this... is still too far away from me."

Xi Miao brushed the dust from Liu Xian’s clothes, tilted her head to look up at his face, and encouraged him, "How can you say that? In my heart, Piji has always been a man of integrity. From childhood to now, you have never caused me worry. Though I sometimes feared that I hadn't provided you with a good environment and that it might weigh on you, causing you to become like your father, you have actually proven far better than I imagined. You are strong, and every time, you only bring me surprises."

"You are my greatest comfort, the courage I have to live. Whatever decision you make, I will support you."

His mother’s joy left Liu Xian at a loss. He clenched his fists, hesitating whether to voice his other concerns.

Zhang Xi Miao sensed her son’s hesitation. She sat up straight, one hand supporting her waist, and asked in a low voice, "Piji, you have other doubts... don't you?"

Liu Xian would not lie to his mother. He thought for a moment and nodded. "Yes."

"What are you worried about?"

"I am worried about Father’s opinion."

At the mention of Liu Xun, Liu Xian’s expression darkened. He pondered his words before saying, "Although I haven't thought it through entirely, I have a premonition that he will not agree."

As he spoke, he observed his mother’s expression and saw that she, too, looked troubled. Clearly, she shared the same premonition.

From every angle, there was no reason to refuse this match. Although both the Duke of Anle’s manor and the Duke of Juancheng’s manor were ducal houses of Western Jin, their influence in the Luoyang political scene was incomparable. The Duke of Juancheng had served as the Libationer of the Imperial Academy for many years, and since most scions of noble families entered officialdom through the Academy, they all owed the Duke a debt of gratitude; it was no exaggeration to say his students were everywhere under heaven. In contrast, the Duke of Anle’s manor had not only failed to integrate into the aristocratic circles of Luoyang but had also been stripped of its enfeoffment the year before. It possessed nothing but a title.

Moreover, Liu Xun’s conduct over the years had thoroughly tarnished the reputation of the Duke of Anle’s manor.

Logically, as the only legitimate heir to the Duke of Anle, Liu Xian should have been a sought-after match long ago. Yet, having reached the age of twelve, he had only secured this engagement through his own wit, which spoke volumes about how dire Liu Xun’s reputation truly was.

As for Cao Zhi, the Duke of Juancheng, as the son of Cao Zhi, he was a master of letters and a man of elegant character—the very "virtuous prince" his father had identified. His selection of Liu Xian as a son-in-law could greatly improve the standing of the Anle manor.

Not to mention the many benefits analyzed by young Master Ruan earlier; from a rational perspective, this was a magnificent match. Yet, from an emotional standpoint, it was highly probable that the Duke of Anle, Liu Xun, would not accept it.

What did his father actually care about? This was a question Liu Xian had harbored since childhood. He had expected to understand as he grew older, but now he was even more bewildered. On the surface, he indulged in pleasure, using material excess to satisfy his physical desires; he abused his slaves, drawing nourishment for his existence from the suffering of others; he threw away gold, transcending worldly troubles amidst the gasps of others.

But in reality, everyone could see that the Duke of Anle did not truly care for these things, nor was he happy. He seemed like a fallen leaf, drifting from one emptiness to another in a life devoid of direction, indifferent to his final destination, as if he had already withered away.

To speak of long-term benefits to a man in such a state was simply irrational. And considering his tendency to isolate himself from the outside world, as if he intended to bolt the gates of his manor shut, the probability of the Duke of Anle agreeing to this marriage was no higher than the probability of him becoming a saintly gentleman while intoxicated.

Zhang Xi Miao naturally knew this, but upon hearing her son’s words, she stared at the ice and snow outside the window, feeling a chill of sorrow in her heart.

When had her husband become such a pathetic figure in their child's eyes? Even more frightening was that, for a split second, she felt her son was right. She quickly denied it: "Piji, after all, he is your father. How could he refuse something that is entirely beneficial? You must not think of him that way..."

"But what if he does refuse?"

"There is no 'what if'," Zhang Xi Miao said firmly. She began to speak in her husband’s defense. "I know that in your eyes, he is not a good father. But he is actually a man who values emotions deeply. It is precisely because he feels so deeply that he cannot let go of certain things, which led him to commit some foolish acts... But he is your father, and he loves you. It needs no reason; he simply does not know how to express it. You must learn to be patient..."

"Really?" Liu Xian was incredulous. The Duke of Anle described by his mother was so vastly different from the father in his memory that he could not merge the two images into one person.

"Of course it is true." With that, Zhang Xi Miao ruffled Liu Xian’s hair, her face reflecting a sense of nostalgia. "You may not believe it, but I have almost forgotten it myself. Back in Chengdu, your father was only sixteen, a man of such talent and appearance, recognized by all as a virtuous prince..."

As her voice trailed off, Liu Xian grew curious, for this was the first time his mother had mentioned their past in Chengdu. Aside from his two teachers, his family rarely mentioned life before the fall of the kingdom. Though Liu Xian now understood the reasons for their silence, he sometimes hoped to learn more about that glorious past from those who had lived it.

Seeing the look in her son’s eyes, Zhang Xi Miao knew his thoughts, but after a moment of reflection, she decided to tease him slightly. "That is a long story, and it cannot be told in a moment... Rest early today. We return to Luoyang tomorrow, and once the marriage is discussed with your father and young Master Ruan, I will tell you slowly."

Her mother’s smile was infectious, and Liu Xian’s tense shoulders relaxed. He thought perhaps he did have a prejudice against his father. His father’s life was so long, and how much time had he truly spent with him? Surely his mother understood him far better than he did.

Besides, people change. The father from before he was five, the father from last year, and the father from this year were indeed different. Hadn't he been much better this year? He was likely overthinking it.

Thinking of returning to Luoyang the next morning, Liu Xian felt a sense of nostalgia. How long had it been since he was last in the capital? It was time to go back and see.

The next morning, before the darkness had fully receded, Zhang Xi Miao and Liu Xian boarded the ox cart to return to Luoyang. Zhu Fu drove, and Liu Xian sat to one side, watching the scenery, while Zhang Xi Miao leaned against the carriage, feigning sleep.

The roads of the first month had not yet been smoothed, causing the carriage to jolt. As Liu Xian felt the vibration of the cart, he felt a strange sense of longing. Since learning to ride, he hadn't traveled by ox cart in a long time, which reminded him of his days studying with Chen Shou.

He looked up at the stars; two years had passed in a blink, yet they remained the same. Was his teacher well in Jiangdong? What changes had occurred in Luoyang? And A-Tian, Zhi Nu—had they, like him, grown into different people? As Liu Xian imagined these faces, they suddenly merged into a stranger—a woman in a vibrant wedding dress. He could not see her face, but he knew this was his imagined Cao Shangrou, his future wife, A-Luo.

He reached out to lift her bridal veil, but just as he caught a glimpse of her smiling lips, everything vanished like smoke. Liu Xian started, suddenly awake. He realized he had been dreaming in the carriage, and the sky had already brightened.

Looking around, the familiar outskirts of Luoyang began to appear in his field of vision.

As Liu Xian expected, Luoyang was much quieter this year than in the past. Patrols of the Imperial Guard were visible on the streets, and most residential doors were tightly shut. Few pedestrians were about, and those who were moved in small, hurried groups, eyes fixed straight ahead. Everyone seemed tense. The only lazy things were the bloated orange cats perched on the courtyard walls, boredly puffing white mist into the air.

Soon, their party was stopped for inspection. Several guards blocked the cart, questioning Zhu Fu about his origins and destination while demanding to search the carriage. Their tone was so harsh that Liu Xian felt quite uneasy, but Zhu Fu quickly offered his name and slipped them a few wuzhu coins, successfully smoothing the way. Fortunately, that was the only trouble they encountered on the road.

After passing through two markets, the cart turned into a small alley, and Liu Xian was struck by a sense of having returned from another world. He knew they were about to arrive at the Duke of Anle’s manor.

He shook his mother awake, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Despite his mother’s reassurances, he could not suppress the tension he felt at the thought of seeing his father.

Upon arriving at the familiar gate, Zhu Fu stepped down to knock. The man who opened it was the lame Lai Fu. He smiled when he saw Zhu Fu, but then froze upon seeing Zhang Xi Miao and Liu Xian alighting from the cart.

"How is it that the Mistress and the Young Master have returned?"

"There are matters to discuss with the head of the house," Zhang Xi Miao said softly, supporting her waist.

Lai Fu quickly called the maid, A-Chun, to welcome the Mistress. But when he heard that she intended to speak with the Duke of Anle, his expression turned awkward. He looked left and right before whispering cautiously, "But his Lordship has not yet risen..."

This meant the Duke had spent another night in debauchery. In the beginning, Zhang Xi Miao would have felt ashamed for her husband, but now she was accustomed to it. She simply smiled and said, "It is fine. It is only a family matter. I will wait for him to rise; you go about your business."

Lai Fu felt as if he had been granted an amnesty, for to all the servants in the manor, the Duke of Anle was an unpredictable and terrifying nightmare. It was best to avoid him whenever possible.

Just as he was about to leave, he heard Zhang Xi Miao say to Liu Xian, "Piji, you go with Lai Fu and walk about for a while."

Liu Xian was stunned. "Am I not to go with Mother to see Father?"

Zhang Xi Miao shook her head and smiled. "This is a matter for parents to discuss first. If you chime in, it would be improper, and he might lose his temper."

Liu Xian recalled the last time his father had raged and how he had talked back, and he realized she had a point. If he didn't have to go, he wouldn't! The thought was a relief. He let go of his mother’s hand and said, "Then I shall await Mother’s good news."

And so, with A-Chun’s support, Zhang Xi Miao walked toward the inner courtyard, while Liu Xian followed Lai Fu to wait in the back.

But as he sat in the side chamber, Liu Xian’s mind grew restless. Even pacing back and forth could not calm him, leading him to mock himself: *Liu Piji, oh Liu Piji, it is a matter of parental orders and the words of matchmakers; whether it succeeds or fails is not for you to decide. Why worry?* Yet he remained anxious, though he could not define why—he only felt a lingering sense of impending doom.

Lai Fu, however, had no such worries. Seeing the young master he had raised grow into a man filled him with gratification. As he brewed tea for Liu Xian, he chatted about the changes of the past two years. When they eventually touched upon the reason for Liu Xian’s return, Lai Fu sighed with sincere emotion:

"How time flies! Even the young master is now discussing marriage. It seems this old servant truly has grown old."