Rebirth of a Star General 125.2
Moon (1) (Part 2)
Xiao Jue raised his eyebrows. “I’ve done everything you told me to do. Since only the results matter, then here they are. Father, what do you find so disagreeable?”
The smile by the corner of the youth’s lips was cynical. For a moment, Xiao Zhong Wu was unable to strike down the whip he was holding by the handle. Xiao Jue chuckled before turning around and leaving.
That was the last time he saw Xiao Zhong Wu alive.
The next day, Xiao Zhong Wu led his army to the Southern Barbarians. Not long after, he died bitterly in the Battle of Mingshui.
His coffin was transported back to the Capital. When the news came, Madam Xiao was in the kitchen making osmanthus candy for Xiao Jue. When she received the news, the entire plate of osmanthus candy was knocked over, causing them to fall to the ground and become stained with dust.
Xiao Zhong Wu’s trusted aide, who survived by chance, knelt before Madam Xiao. He choked out, “We initially planned to pass Mingshui a few days in advance, but General said that the nearby Fu Guan is abundant in ironware, so he wanted to make a sword for Second Young Master. Before leaving, he argued with Second Young Master and hurt his feelings, so he was hoping the sword would allow him to understand his painstaking efforts. We never thought… We never expected…”
Madam Xiao’s heart-wrenching wail pierced through the air.
She threw herself onto Xiao Jue and began hitting him erratically. She cursed as she sobbed, “Why did you get angry at him? Why?! If you weren’t angry at him, he wouldn’t have stayed at Mingshui, he wouldn’t have been ambushed; he wouldn’t have died!”
Silently, he endured those terrifying accusations and allowed her weak fists to land on him.
How could this be? How could this happen to his stern and resolute father who’d brandish a whip without showing even a hint of consideration? How could the man who never visited the young son he left on an unfamiliar mountain just die? He was cold and heartless, with a mind that only entertained the cardinal principles of righteousness, so how could he be dead?
The frightening denouncements continued.
“You killed him! You killed your father!”
This was more than he could bear. He pushed away his mother. “I didn’t! It wasn’t me!”
The woman who’d been pushed back looked at him blankly. Unable to stand her look of despair, Xiao Jue turned and ran away.
He didn’t know where he should go and didn’t know who to talk to. It’d only been less than a year since he left the mountain and returned to Shuojing. He still couldn’t recognise everyone at the Xiao Residence nor had he learnt how to naturally get along with his family.
And… that was it.
When people are in extreme pain, they won’t shed any tears. At that moment, he felt no pain but confusion. It was as if he’d just heard someone tell a ridiculous joke and wasn’t sure how to react. He could only comprehend the heaviness of his feet and his inability to step forward to face his mother’s bitter and despairing eyes.
Many years later, Xiao Jue wondered if things would’ve gone differently if he hadn’t been so cowardly and stepped back into the kitchen.
But there was no ‘if’.
By the time he returned, it was nighttime. Xiao Jing and Bai Rong Wei had also come back, their eyes reddened as if they’d been crying. The typically gentle and courteous Xiao Jing rushed over and punched him; he grabbed him by the collar and shouted with bloodshot eyes, “Where were you? Why weren’t you at the residence? Why weren’t you by our mother’s side?!”
He suddenly felt a burst of loathing and self-mockery. A corner of his lips curled up. “We’re both her sons. Instead of asking me, why don’t you ask yourself?”
“You-!”
“Huai Jin,” Bai Rong Wei sobbed, “Mother is gone.”
His smile froze.
“Mother… is gone.” Xiao Jing’s hands loosened. He staggered back and covered his face, choking with sobs.
Madam Xiao was like a weak blossom that’d never encountered wind or rain. When Xiao Zhong Wu was still alive, she always felt a great deal of dissatisfaction towards him. Every now and then, they’d get into an argument like an unhappy couple. Once Xiao Zhong Wu died, the blossom lost its nutrient and wilted, following him to the grave.
She left with such a resolution that she didn’t even consider what would happen to the two sons she left behind at Shuojing. And what of the Xiao Family? The moment she lost Xiao Zhong Wu was the moment her life lost all meaning, hence she used a long piece of white silk to end her own life.
Before she died, the last thing she said to Xiao Jue was, “You killed him! You killed your father!”
Her words became an eternal nightmare. Years later, Xiao Jue still found himself frequently waking in the depths of the night, unable to sleep as he tossed and turned.
He could never escape.
Xiao Zhong Wu and Madame Xiao were buried together. The lanterns and canvases that were hung in preparation for the Mid-Autumn Festival were taken down and replaced with lanterns of snow-white.
When a wall is falling, everybody gives it a push – Xiao Zhong Wu’s death gave way to heavier blows upon the Xiao Family. In court, Xiao Jing suffered from countless attacks through both overt and covert means; Xiao Jue, too, shouldered the same burdens. What of the Southern Army? What of the Xiao Family? What of the groundless accusations from the Battle of Mingshui?
And yet, he still shed not a single tear. He proceeded numbly and concentrated on making arrangements. The duration of his sleep became shorter and the time he came back to residence became later.
One time, Xiao Jue came back to the residence extremely late. After Xiao Zhong Wu’s death, many of their servants were dismissed; he didn’t need anyone but his personal bodyguard. Only when the pangs of hunger hit him did he realise he hadn’t eaten the entire day.
It was late and he didn’t want to trouble Bai Rong Wei, so Xiao Jue walked into the kitchen to see if there were any leftovers.
The hearth was cold and there wasn’t much food – everyone had been too busy lately, leaving no time for meals. He found two mantou and a bowl of pickles.
The candle flame flickered feebly as if it was about to go out. There was no seat in the kitchen, so the weary youth chose a random corner and sat against the wall before raising his bowl. Suddenly, in the corner by the other end of the long table, he caught a glimpse of an osmanthus candy.
When the grievous news of Xiao Zhong Wu’s death came, Madam Xiao had been making osmanthus candy for Xiao Jue. Upon hearing the news, the entire plate was knocked over. Later, a servant cleaned them up, leaving none remaining.
Yet, here was a fish that escaped the net, silently laying there as it collected dust.
He crawled over and carefully picked up the osmanthus candy, brushing away the layer of dust upon it. From the candy wafted the faint fragrance of osmanthus, as sweet and cloying as it’d always been.
Madam Xiao liked to make her osmanthus candy extremely sweet, to the point they tasted salty, so he never had an inclination for them.
But this was the last piece of candy he’d ever receive from her.
There was still a wrapper in his sachet, so he used it to wrap the candy before placing it inside the bag. He raised his bowl and picked up the mantou.
The noble Second Young Master Xiao who always paid close attention to cleanliness now disregarded such learning as he ate on the floor. It’d been two days since he last changed clothes or consumed even a grain of rice. Not a trace of the beautiful and graceful boy wearing brocade garments and a fox-fur cloak remained.
The youth sat against the wall with his head raised as he slowly chewed the mantou. As he ate, a smile of self-mockery grew. A faint glimmer seemed to shine within his long, limpid eyes, reminiscent of a fading starlight on a night sky.
It soon disappeared.
…..
Time was fleeting, leaving not a single trace of the past; such memories almost seemed to belong to a previous life. The complex emotions intertwined before finally becoming a nonchalant smile by the corner of his lips.
This wasn’t a setback he couldn’t overcome.
He looked blankly at the sachet in his hand. It was unclear what he was thinking. A moment later, he let go and continued forward.
“Young Master.” Fei Nu walked out from behind. He took the umbrella and held it up in Xiao Jue’s stead before asking, “Are you returning to the temple?”
“Let’s keep walking,” Xiao Jue responded, “And enjoy the air.”
The last ray of light dispersed, plunging Lianxue Mountain into complete darkness. Dense fog filled the air, transforming the mountain into a fairyland. On such a night, not many people would be out walking.
The rain dripped down the umbrella’s eaves. Although it wasn’t heavy, it was constant and unceasing. It was as if a layer of cold gauze was draped over the mountain, wrapping it within its embrace.
“I wonder when the rain will stop,” Fei Nu murmured.
Nights on the Mid-Autumn Festival were usually cloudless, so this was a rare occurrence. Xiao Jue raised his head and looked into the dark, heavy night, unable to see the end.
He said, “There’s no moon tonight.”
Without the moon, reunions cannot be shone upon.
The mountain forest path was unbearably muddy; other than the rain, no other sounds could be heard. The further one walked to the side, the more abundant the trees grew. Suddenly, a rustle sounded from ahead. Fei Nu paused. Alert, he said, “Young Master.”
Xiao Jue shook his head, indicating he already heard it.
It was late – moreover, it was also raining – so who could it be?
Fei Nu inched his lantern closer as the rain continued falling densely around them. A figure stood under the tree. At first, they could only see a blurry outline of what was most likely a woman, though it was unclear what she was fiddling with. They took a few steps forward and realised that the woman was standing on a stone, her hands pulling down on something long.
A piece of white fabric was tied to the tree.
It was a woman seeking death.
