Chapter 29: Is he Brother Yun, the university student?

In the vast, ethereal Underworld, the imperial dynasties and the realm of ghosts and gods are separated by a great river of primordial energy. Under normal circumstances, peace prevails.

However, with the Liang Dynasty now on the brink of collapse, this period of dynastic transition has brought true "bustle" to the void. The ghosts and gods are busy stirring up trouble, devising ways to extract more sacrificial blood and offerings from the mortal realm. Meanwhile, the various dynasties of history are either appearing in the dreams of their descendants or exhausting their remaining strength to manifest auspicious signs, desperately trying to signal to their heirs that the Liang Dynasty is failing and that they must rise up and seize their destiny.

In the City of Zhou, the departed Li emperors had regained their composure. While it was a blessing for the Li clan to produce a descendant endowed with the mandate of a sovereign, they were all men who had sat upon the throne; they understood the intricacies of power and the weight of imperial fortune.

To put it plainly: this descendant with the sovereign's mandate had appeared too early.

Generally, those who emerge before a time of chaos has fully taken hold are merely precursors—harbingers of the coming turmoil. In simple terms, their efforts only pave the way for others; they are merely heroes of a moment. Every founding emperor understood this truth better than anyone.

Li Zhe, the fourth emperor of the Li-Zhou Dynasty, was the first to sigh, only to be met with a glare from Li Hongwu. Recalling how he had been soundly thrashed upon his own arrival in the Underworld, Li Zhe immediately ducked his head, content to remain a quiet, handsome figure. Indeed, while Li Hongwu’s own appearance was quite average, his descendants had grown increasingly refined—a result of generations of emperors marrying beautiful women, which had steadily improved the bloodline. As the lineage progressed, the men became better looking, though they also became more decadent, each with their own unique flaws.

Li Hongwu glowered at the sight. "Enough! Do we, the Li clan, have any other choice now? We have finally produced a descendant with the mandate of a sovereign, one capable of feeding back so much fortune to us. Whether he ends up as a mere pawn or a conqueror who claims the world, we must support him with everything we have!

"All of you, get to the realm of the ghosts and gods, capture them, and use their powers to manifest in the dreams of our descendants in the mortal world! Tell them to find the Qilin child of the Li clan and assist him with all their might! If I find out any of you have failed, do not force me to hang you from the city gates and beat you!"

They were already dead, existing only as souls protected by dragon qi. They could not die a second time, but being hung from the city gates was both painful and humiliating. They had all been emperors in their time, after all. Furthermore, many of the high-ranking officials from their respective reigns were present as well; the sheer loss of face would be unbearable.

While the mortal world and the ethereal Underworld were roiling with change, in Long County, Hanyang Prefecture, such grand events remained distant. Long County was simply too small and too remote.

Compared to those monumental affairs, Li Fu, the magistrate of Long County, was far more concerned with the condition of his second son, Yun-ge'er. During the ancestral rites that day, the boy had suddenly fainted. Although Li Bo possessed some knowledge of medicine, it was merely superficial, and unable to diagnose the problem, Li Fu carried Yun-ge'er directly to Xin Niang, while simultaneously ordering his household to fetch a physician.

The moment Li Fu arrived, breathless and carrying the boy, Xin Niang’s heart skipped a beat. Perhaps it was the primal bond between a mother and her child, but she knew something was wrong before a word was spoken. In that moment, she did not collapse; she simply rushed forward to take the boy into her arms.

***

"How is he?"

Xin Niang disregarded all social conventions. If anything happened to Yun-ge'er, she felt she would rather die; there was nothing else to care about.

The physician was an elderly man whose skills were widely respected in Long County, though he was hard of hearing and brought a young apprentice along to act as his "translator." After the apprentice shouted into his ear a second time, the physician said slowly, "Do not worry. The child is well-nourished and his complexion is good. He is fine."

Li Fu had been so anxious that he had practically dragged the man there. Upon arrival, however, the physician saw the boy dressed in festive clothes, looking plump, sturdy, and remarkably healthy. Once he felt the pulse and confirmed there was nothing wrong, his own heart settled.

The physician knew the reputation of the Li household and understood that a man of Li Fu’s age would cherish his two children dearly. He did not think they were making a fuss; he had seen enough children die from trivial ailments outside the county to know better. He hoped that in this world, more children could be loved by their parents and grow up happily—it provided some small comfort to an old man near the end of his own life. Having seen too much tragedy, he preferred to witness a little happiness to balance his spirit.

"But..." Xin Niang interrupted, unable to stop herself. "Then why did Yun-ge'er faint?"

The old physician pondered for a moment before saying, "Perhaps he was startled. He is still very young, and the environment of his first ancestral ritual was perhaps too solemn. While honoring ancestors is important, the living are what matter most. He is a delicate child; he likely could not handle the fright. I will write a prescription for a mild sedative. Let him take it for two days, and he will be fine. Do not overdo it, though—he is not truly ill, and such medicine is not good for a child if taken in excess."

After the doctor left to write the prescription, Xin Niang returned to the bedside. Yun-ge'er was fast asleep, occasionally twitching as if dreaming, even raising his small hands as if to embrace something, while letting out soft, babbling noises and giggles. Seeing this, Li Fu let out a sigh of relief and gently tucked the boy’s hands back under the covers.

Only then did Xin Niang’s tension snap, and she burst into quiet sobs. Li Fu patted her shoulder to comfort her before leaving to collect the medicine and inform Li Bo, who was waiting anxiously in the front hall.

Once Li Fu had left, Madam Bu stepped in to comfort Xin Niang. She had left her own son, Yi-ge'er, with a maid in her room, fearing that if Yun-ge'er’s condition were contagious, she might inadvertently pass it to him.

Yun-ge'er slept for a long time, not waking until noon the following day. As he drowsily opened his eyes and moved his hands, Xin Niang, who had been sitting by the bed all night, immediately stirred. Although he seemed fine, the length of his slumber was abnormal, and Xin Niang had not dared to sleep a wink.

"Yun-ge'er, are you alright?"

Yun-ge'er had enjoyed a wonderful sleep. Upon waking, he felt hungry and eager to move, though his mother seemed strangely anxious. She had always been attentive, but never this cautious. The room was quite warm from the charcoal fire, and having slept for over a day, he felt quite sweaty. He wiggled out from under the covers and looked at Xin Niang, puzzled. "I’m fine, Mother. I just had a very, very long dream."

Xin Niang’s heart finally settled. "What did you dream about?"

"Huh?" Yun-ge'er frowned, unsure how to explain. He had always felt strange; his young mind, which had only been in use for a year, would often be flooded with odd memories. If someone as stubborn as Yi-ge'er had such a mind, he might have been driven mad, but Yun-ge'er was different—he let the thoughts come and go, taking it all in stride. This dream, however, had been so long that he finally understood where those strange memories came from: they belonged to a "university student" version of himself.

He wondered if he was that student. But then he felt he wasn't; he was his mother’s Yun-ge'er, the little teacher to Gouzi and Bu Hong, the referee for Zheng Zuosheng and Meng Fu. Still, he didn't mind the memories of the student.

*Forget it,* he thought, *why overthink it?*

Yun-ge'er smiled, turning his head. "I dreamt of a square box called a 'television.' There were tiny people performing inside, just like the opera stage Auntie Guo told me about."

Xin Niang took it as the babbling of a child and laughed. "Do you want to see an opera, Yun-ge'er? You haven't seen one yet. Grow up quickly; when spring comes, Mother will take you to see one."

"Okay!" Yun-ge'er agreed instantly.

Seeing that he was truly fine, Xin Niang dressed him in warm clothes and hung a pouch around his neck. Yun-ge'er suddenly remembered the many pouches he had received for the New Year and asked where they were, eager to see what was inside.

"Aren't you hungry, Yun-ge'er?"

At her words, he realized his stomach was rumbling. After he had eaten his fill, he noticed that not only was Xin Niang hovering, but the maids and Gouzi were also following him everywhere. Gouzi’s eyes were red and swollen, as if he hadn't slept at all.

The pouches were laid out before him. Just as he reached for one, he looked at Gouzi and said earnestly, "Gouzi, go get some sleep. You look too tired."

Gouzi refused, wiping his eyes as he handed a pouch to Yun-ge'er. "I'm not tired, Yun-ge'er. You open them."