A person’s ntal state does not grow simply with the passing of ti and years.
It completes its growth in an instant, after a single event.
To make one’s own choice is only to co of age; to make one’s own choice, and then to bear all the responsibilities it brings, and even knowing full well the consequences that choice will entail, yet still never regret it—only then can it be called growing up.
That final thrust of the Great Khan’s spear drove the armor on Ashina’s chest outward to the back.
Yet it seed as though it had pierced straight into his heart as well.
It made that once unruly Seventh Prince Ashina, who had until recently been brimming with high spirits, beco in an instant the Khan of the Turkic remnants upon the steppe; his shoulders broad enough to bear the weight of fate and his people, and so those great nobles who, even now, still harbored murderous intent and unwillingness beca the targets he had to sweep away.
There were nobles under the Khan who were unwilling to submit, harboring thoughts of rebellion, intending to drag along the Turkic folk who had only just found peace and stability to assault the Heavenly Strategy Mansion; once the Seventh Prince Ashina saw through them, he had them bound and made to kneel on the ground. They were still unreconciled, cursing loudly:
"You too are the Great Khan’s son and bloodline, you too are a Khan upon the grasslands."
"You too bear the blood of Longevity Heaven."
"Can it be you are willing to submit under the banner of a re Central Plains man?!"
The Seventh Prince Ashina said, "If it were an ordinary man rampaging across the Central Plains, I would of course be unwilling; I would raise my weapons and compete for the deer of the realm."
The noble Khan said, "Then why should the Prince Qin be any different?!"
The Seventh Prince Ashina was silent for a long ti, thinking of the years from ten years ago until now—neither short nor truly long—and of their mutual acquaintance and contention. At last he sighed and said with emotion:
"If it is Your Majesty, then I shall be the vanguard, leading his horse and holding the stirrup, together seeking the dream of a realm made one."
"If I can behold the rivers and mountains unified, the realm at peace, I shall die without regret."
"You traitors, how dare you thus sow discord between us and Your Majesty?"
The Khan still refused to yield, struggling; but the rope binding him was the very one specially made back then to keep Mr. Wen Qingyu. The more he struggled, the tighter it drew, biting deep into flesh and bone, agony sharp as knives, until he could only roar:
"You and I are both Khans!"
"How can we bow beneath another?!"
The Seventh Prince Ashina shouted sternly, "Your Majesty is the Heavenly Khan!"
"What sort of thing are you, that you dare wag your tongue and compare yourself to Your Majesty!"
"If you dare spew such madness again, Ashina may recognize you, but the blade in Ashina’s hand does not!"
The Turkic nobles and khans all turned pale, held their tongues for a long ti, and in the end could find no rebuttal.
The people of the steppe and the Western Regions all knew the Khan Ashina, yet they also knew that Heavenly Khan, Prince Qin Li Guanyi. With this bond between them, and with life under Prince Qin’s governance being in fact better than it had been under the banners of the forr khans,
Prince Qin did not, like so of the earlier khans upon the grasslands, whip the common folk at his whim; he did not divide the poor into "wild n," nor did he reckon the lives of ordinary people as worth no more than a single grass rope, for which knights and samurai need pay no price when they killed them.
The desire to rebel lessened greatly.
When the four directions were pacified and Prince Qin cast the tripods, after Chen Wenmian had sat in quiet thought for a long ti, he went to the Xue Family. By now he had slaughtered his way across the battlefield more tis than he could count, bold and magnificent, this body having waded through tens of thousands of troops, never once tasting fear or retreat.
Yet when he stood before the Xue Family residence in Guan Yi City, a box of pastries that children would like in his hand, he instead grew sowhat silent, sowhat at a loss as to what he ought to do.
As if he had mislaid that first, reckless courage.
In the end he stepped into the Xue Family ho. Xue Daoyong sighed, pitying this ill-fated Divine General in his heart; his manner was very gentle as he said, "You and Guan Yi are brothers in all but blood. Since that is so, you count as half a junior of mine as well."
"Co, co in."
Chen Wenmian walked together with Xue Daoyong, and as they passed along the corridor of the Xue Family toward Xue Daoyong’s Wind Listening Pavilion, there was a covered gallery, winding in its course. On both sides hung great sheets of white paper, on which characters in black ink were written, fluttering in the wind.
This scene seed as though he had seen it once before, in a dream.
When the wind swept through, those white sheets filled with bold ink characters swayed in the air. Chen Wenmian halted in his tracks, and suddenly he heard laughter and the sound of soone crying out in pain, saw a burly man chasing a child, saying, "Young master, slow down, slow down!"
"Co chase then, co on!"
A small child ran along this gallery, delighted as he slipped past Zhao Dabing ahead of him. As he spun around, he was, after all, still young; though he already possessed superior martial arts, his foundation was still shallow. He failed to dodge in ti and crashed headlong into Chen Wenmian’s leg.
"Ouch!"
The child yelped as he was bounced back by the llow, dense Inner Qi of Chen Wenmian’s body.
He toppled backward.
Just then Zhao Dabing caught up; with a headlong dive forward, he caught the child in both arms and said, "Young master, are you all right?"
The child sat there, dazed and dizzy, yet still said:
"I’m fine, I’m fine!"
He lifted his head and saw Chen Wenmian, who had stopped in front of him.
His eyes shone bright as stars. "Ah, you’re so tall."
Chen Wenmian looked at that tiny child, and the latter looked back at the young man in white robes, gentle in bearing. Xue Daoyong’s expression was complicated; he only sighed and said, "Tianyi, this is a guest. Call him Big Brother..."
Chen Tianyi had forgotten the past; he only bead and said, "Big Brother."
He spread his arms wide.
"Hug!"
Chen Wenmian was silent for a long ti. He looked at his own hands, reeking of blood, then reached out and wrapped them around this "younger brother" he did not know how to face—careful, cautious, conflicted.
User Comments
0 comments from readers