CDJMM – Volume 1 – Chapter 3 Writing in the Republic Era (2)

From Le Zhengye, Le Jing learned that drug addiction was more a craving of the mind than of the body. The body could be weaned off opium, but the mental obsession was far harder to break. That was why the vast majority of addicts relapsed again and again. Addicts harmed both themselves and others—many families were ruined by opium, with people dying young and meeting tragic ends.

Although Le Jing had inherited Li Jingran’s memories, he had only skimmed through them like an onlooker, without deep immersion. Naturally, he did not carry the same crushing psychological dependence that Li Jingran had.

But if he were to smoke opium today and experience its so-called “wonders,” eight or nine times out of ten he would fall into the same trap, and quitting later would become nearly impossible.

Li Jingran’s drug use had indeed enraged his father, but judging from the fact that he had ordered his son to quit, the man had not completely given up on his eldest. If Li Jingran reverted to his old ways and continued smoking in his room… that would be the moment his father’s disappointment turned to utter despair, and he would abandon his son for good.

And if that happened, once Father passed away, Li Jingran—as the eldest son—would not get a single coin of the family’s wealth.

Madam Wang truly had a fine scheme.

With Li Jingran’s foolish nature, he might even feel grateful for his stepmother’s so-called “thoughtfulness” at this moment.

Once a man fell into the grip of opium, he became an unrecognizable beast—turning his back on kin, losing all reason. That was a warning Le Jing had heard countless times from police officers.

But Madam Wang would never dream that something as bizarre as a soul reborn in another’s body could happen in this world.

Le Jing had originally planned to quietly detox and then make his move. Now, it seemed he needed to change his plans.

At the very least, he could not stay in the Li residence. He might evade the trap once, but what about next time? If Madam Wang truly wanted to, she could easily slip opium into his food and drink, and all his efforts would be wasted.

All these calculations flashed through his mind in the blink of an eye. To the little servant, it merely looked as if the young master had been dazed for a moment. Then, Le Jing tilted his head slightly to avoid the sunlight spilling in through the window, his pale and sickly face falling into shadow, unreadable. “Madam… asked you to serve me opium?”

A sudden chill ran down the servant’s spine. He couldn’t say why, but something felt off. Forcing a dry laugh, he replied, “Yes, young master, Madam was worried for you…”

His usual glib chatter was cut short by the boy’s sudden soft chuckle.

The young master lifted his chin slightly, his dark eyes like a wintry spring, his voice low and raspy yet carrying a peculiar cadence: “Father has strictly ordered me to quit, saying this smoke is poison to men. Yet Madam, out of her ‘concern,’ sends this poison to me. Jingran truly fails to grasp her intentions.”

The servant choked on his words. For once, his smooth tongue failed him.

Le Jing drew in a breath, his head growing heavier, his body weaker, as though he might collapse at any moment. He knew the withdrawal was worsening, but while he still had some clarity, he had to settle this matter.

Summoning his strength, he stood up, seized the ornate box from the servant’s hands, strode to the doorway, and smashed it against the ground. Raising his voice as best he could in the bustling courtyard, he cried out bitterly:

“Ever since opium spread, countless families have gone bankrupt and countless men have died young from this poison! Jingran, in his youth and ignorance, once strayed down this path. But after Father’s words, I awoke and swore to repent, to quit this vile substance. Yet today Madam sends her men under the guise of gifts, to tempt me back into smoking. I must ask—what is her true intent?”

Without giving the servant behind him a chance to respond, he pressed on quickly: “My birth mother passed away early. Though Madam Wang was raised from concubine to wife, I have always respected and served her, never once criticizing her as a junior. But if a mother shows no kindness, how can a son show filial piety?!”

Then he grabbed his stunned younger sister, Li Shuran, and declared in a firm, ringing voice:  “And my sister, only thirteen years old, has been promised as a bride to bring luck to a sickly man! I have inquired about that family’s young master—he is lecherous and cruel! Jingran has but one sister—if anything were to happen to her, how could I face my departed mother?”

By then the servant had stumbled out, shouting in panic, “Young master, you…”

But it was too late. Mustering the last of his strength, Le Jing roared hoarsely: “My mother’s kin are gone, so only the clan elders of the Li family can bring justice to this matter!”

With that, he grasped Li Shuran’s hand firmly and strode out of the courtyard.

“Brother!” Li Shuran’s startled voice followed him. “You… why are you…?”

Her elder brother turned to her, smiling warmly. His words, steady and resolute, made her heart tremble “Don’t be afraid. I am here. I will protect you.”

Her nose stung, her eyes reddened. Never had she dreamed that one day such words would come from her brother’s mouth.

Her brother said he would protect her.

Her brother still cared for her.

So she forgot about Father Li’s coming wrath, forgot about her stepmother’s thunderous means. An endless courage surged within her heart, and suddenly, she feared nothing at all.

She quietly clasped her brother’s slender fingers, gazing with boundless dependence at his thin yet tall back. As long as there was still someone in this world who loved and cherished her, she would fear nothing.

Le Jing’s sudden move caught Madam Wang completely off guard. By the time the people she had sent out to intercept them chased out of the mansion, Le Jing and Li Shuran were already seated in a carriage bound for the ancestral home.

※

When the servants reported that Li Jingran had come to pay a visit with his younger sister, Li Tingfang was just laughing and chatting with his friend Wang Zhengbai.

Wang Zhengbai composed himself and said, “In that case, I shall take my leave.”

“No need, just hide behind the screen for a while,” Li Tingfang replied, a trace of mockery tugging at the corners of his lips. “That nephew of mine is nothing more than a dissolute wastrel. Wait here, I’ll dismiss him quickly, then we can continue our tea.”

Soon, two figures appeared at the doorway.

The one leading was a frail young man in a gray long robe. His complexion was pale, lips colorless, his face sickly, and the robe hung loosely over his frame. Yet his eyes were bright and clear, his entire being free of any listlessness. Instead, there was an upright and noble bearing that stirred admiration. He walked forward calmly; despite his weakness, not a trace of hesitation showed in his stride. His posture was straight, his long robe fluttering, like bamboo standing firm in the wind.

Stopping before Li Tingfang, he curved his lips into a gentle, composed smile. Bowing with clasped hands, he greeted, “Your nephew Li Jingran greets Uncle.”

Li Tingfang froze for a moment, his heart shocked.

This remarkable youth before him was actually that notorious libertine, Li Jingran!

Li Tingfang studied him carefully.

Within the clan, Li Jingran had long been the infamous example cited when admonishing younger generations. Li Tingfang had met him before, if only briefly, yet his lewdness, cowardice, and petty nature had left a deep impression—he had always found the boy detestable.

But now, the youth standing before him could only be described as completely reborn, utterly different from the Li Jingran he remembered.

What on earth had happened to bring about such a drastic change? For once, Li Tingfang felt genuine curiosity.

Li Jingran continued, “This is my younger sister, Shuran. Shuran, quickly greet Uncle.”

Only then did Li Tingfang notice the timid girl half-hiding behind him. She was just at the age of budding youth, her features gentle and delicate. Called upon by her brother, she blushed and bowed gracefully, her voice as soft as a mosquito’s hum: “Shuran pays her respects to Uncle.”

Li Tingfang nodded slightly, invited them to sit, and ordered tea to be served. At once, he saw Li Jingran collapse weakly against the chair, face deathly pale, drenched in sweat, his whole body trembling. Forcing himself to lift the teacup, he only managed to spill the tea all over himself.

“Utter nonsense!” Li Tingfang couldn’t help scolding. “If you’re ill, you should be resting properly! Someone, fetch a doctor.”

Le Jing felt a small sense of relief. Indeed, coming to seek Li Tingfang was the right choice.

Li Jingran’s mother had died early, her family in decline, leaving him to survive under Father Li’s control. Thus, when Madam Wang arranged such a marriage for Li Shuran, her maternal relatives raised no objections. Since the maternal side was unreliable, Le Jing could only look to the paternal clan for a way out.

At this moment, he remembered Li Tingfang.

This man was, in later generations, a renowned figure—hailed as a founding pillar of modern Chinese secondary education. Upright and principled, he was a gentleman honored by the history books, spending his fortune to establish middle schools.

The very school Li Jingran had once attended—Nanming Middle School—was founded by him. Its guiding principle was “education for all,” and Li Tingfang had spent lavishly to hire returned overseas students and even foreigners as teachers. Its faculty was formidable, yet its tuition low, with scholarships available for poor students, making it famous throughout the region.

The only reason the good-for-nothing Li Jingran had managed to enter such a school was thanks to the Li family name.

As clan head and a man of immense reputation, if Li Tingfang could be persuaded to temporarily protect the siblings, then once Le Jing succeeded in breaking his addiction, there would be no need to fear Father Li or the others.

“No need to fetch a doctor.” The youth coughed lightly, then said calmly, “My current weakness is due to my craving for opium. Once I overcome it, my health will naturally return.”

“Opium?” Li Tingfang was taken aback. “You mean to say you intend to quit?”

“Yes. I must quit.” Le Jing replied with composure. “Only after falling into this addiction did I realize that opium is fiercer than any tiger. Since the English brought this poison to our land, from the emperor and empress dowager above to the peddlers and beggars below, all have been smoking it. And now, even the revolutionaries in this new era smoke. Everyone is puffing clouds of smoke, their minds and bodies destroyed. Soldiers unfit to fight, farmers unable to till their fields—if this continues, the nation itself will cease to exist!”

Now Li Tingfang looked at him in astonishment.

That the notorious fop could hold such a clear understanding of opium’s evils! Only today he had read a so-called “scholar’s” article extolling the virtues of opium; his heart had been filled with scorn, but also with sorrow.

A mere teenager could see the truth—yet in this vast country of hundreds of millions, so many remained blind… or perhaps simply refused to see.

He had witnessed many opium addicts: every one of them reduced to pitiful wrecks, shrieking like maddened beasts. Yet Li Jingran still maintained reason and clarity, even giving such a cogent, well-ordered answer. What tremendous willpower must it take to endure!

Li Tingfang turned slightly to the side, his opinion of him shifting ever so slightly.

It seemed the rumors couldn’t be fully trusted.

“I didn’t expect my virtuous nephew to have such an accurate understanding of this drug. That’s rare indeed.” Li Tingfang shook his head with a sigh. “But this stuff—easy to pick up, hard to quit!”

“That is exactly the reason I have brought my little sister here to visit Uncle.” Le Jing forced himself to endure his discomfort, stood up with effort, and bowed deeply to Li Tingfang. Though his voice was weak and hoarse, it carried an unyielding determination:

“Jingran begs Uncle to help me quit opium!”

Li Tingfang was surprised. “And how do you want me to help you quit?”

“I know this request is presumptuous, but my little sister is still young. I can only thicken my face and make this shameless plea to Uncle.” Straightening, Le Jing clasped his hands solemnly. “I beg Uncle to allow us siblings to stay in your residence for one month. Once I succeed in quitting, I will take my sister away.”

Li Tingfang frowned. “You have a father and mother. Why must I take you in to quit?”

Le Jing had no patience for the feudal nonsense of “family scandals must not be spread” or “a son must never criticize his father.” He laid everything out plainly—his father marrying concubines and destroying his mother, his stepmother’s strategy of “praise to ruin.”

“I was slow-witted, and only in recent years did I vaguely sense my stepmother’s schemes. So I decided to play along, pretending to be a useless wastrel in order to deceive her and preserve a sliver of hope. Even before Shuran, I revealed not a trace of it. But in my naivety, when led astray by someone with ulterior motives, I once smoked that opium out of curiosity. That was when I learned how dreadful its poison truly was!

“From then on, I fell gravely ill, bedridden day after day, lost in the haze of smoke, with no mind for proper affairs. So later, when my stepmother arranged that vile marriage for my little sister, I—already ensnared by opium—was powerless to oppose it.”

Le Jing took a deep breath, his voice cutting through the silence of the hall. “It was then that I resolved completely to quit.”

Though he lacked evidence that Madam Wang had directly pushed him into addiction, his instincts told him she had a hand in it. So while he did not name her outright, his words hinted at her involvement again and again. He trusted that Li Tingfang would understand. Indeed, as he spoke, Li Tingfang’s expression grew darker, anger flickering in his eyes.

The youth lifted his head, meeting Li Tingfang’s gaze squarely. His face was pale, his body trembling uncontrollably, but his back remained ramrod straight. His dark eyes, cold and sharp like a sword unsheathed, glinted as his weak yet resolute voice rang out:

“There are still two months before Shuran’s marriage. I must use this time to quit successfully, then take her away with me.”

He raised his chin proudly. “I care nothing for my father’s paltry estate. With the nation in peril, war rising on all sides, a true man’s ambition lies in the world. I do not seek to be remembered in history, only to serve my country, so as not to waste this life!”

Li Tingfang stared at the gray-robed youth standing so proudly before him, waves surging in his heart.

At his age, what sort of people had he not seen through? No matter how terrible Li Jingran’s reputation outside, he trusted only his own eyes.

And after this conversation, the image of a determined, unyielding, broad-minded young hero had firmly taken root in his heart.

Li Jingran’s words were few, but Li Tingfang could hear the dangers, the twists, the heart-shaking struggles hidden between them. If the boy had been even slightly rash out of humiliation, would he still be alive today? With such a temperament, in these troubled times, perhaps he truly could make something of himself!

Yet no matter how turbulent his thoughts, Li Tingfang kept his face steady and calm.

“If what you say is true, then why come to me today, asking me to help you quit? Should you not instead conserve your strength, endure the humiliation, and wait for the day of revenge?”

Le Jing sighed and explained about his stepmother sending him opium earlier that day. “This poison—I can never touch it again. It will destroy everything I have.” His voice grew hoarse. “My mother’s family is of no standing. After much thought, only Uncle is worthy of my trust.”

“Oh?” Li Tingfang’s tone was unreadable. “And why do you think I would risk offending your father for your sake? By rites, I should not meddle in your family’s affairs.”

Le Jing replied, “My father and stepmother’s actions have long since violated the rites. As clan head, you are justified in intervening. And as for why I chose to seek your aid—because you are Li Tingfang.”

Li Tingfang blinked. “What kind of answer is that?”

“Li Tingfang is a man of upright spirit, whose heart holds the world, who would rather break than bend—a true gentleman of fiery righteousness.” The youth lifted his eyes and said earnestly, “I believe he will save me.”

The words were soft, yet heavy with trust.

For a moment, Li Tingfang was speechless. Then, unable to help himself, he let out a chuckle and shook his head with a sigh. “Very well, very well. This old man will meddle in this affair once.”

Indeed, Li Tingye’s actions had been outrageous. For the heir to be mistreated so by a stepmother—this was also his own failure as clan head. Since this child had already broken with Li Tingye, helping him now could only be counted as planting good karma for the Li clan.

After all, there’s a saying: better to deceive an old man than a poor youth.

Le Jing closed his eyes in relief and let out a long breath.

He knelt down and kowtowed solemnly. Though his voice was quiet, it carried a fierce integrity:

“I, Li Jingran, repay every grudge, and repay every kindness. Uncle’s grace today—I will never forget for as long as I live.”

※

From behind the screen, Wang Zhengbai stepped out and sat where Li Jingran had been, frowning as he said to Li Tingfang:

“By taking him in, I fear Li Tingye will not let it rest.”

“Am I afraid of him?” Li Tingfang raised an eyebrow, his smile peculiar. “Who would have thought that vulgar man Li Tingye could father a son of such character? One day, he will regret it!”

Wang Zhengbai laughed. “You think so highly of that boy?” Though he said so, he too admired Li Jingran greatly. He had heard every word from behind the screen. In his eyes, Li Jingran, though beset by adversity, had not lost his lofty aspirations. He possessed unyielding character, a resilient heart, and carried himself with balance and restraint. Most striking of all—he was only sixteen. What brilliance might he achieve once grown?

Li Tingfang chuckled. “Do you know what saying he reminded me of?”

“What saying?”

“This boy—when he does not fly, fine; but when he flies, he soars to the heavens. When he does not sing, fine; but when he sings, it startles the world.”

Wang Zhengbai, well-versed in classics, of course recognized the allusion of “three years without a song, then one that astonishes the world.” Indeed, the pleasure-seeking King Zhuang of Chu later achieved a reign of dominance. Stroking his beard, he laughed. “As the ancients said: a prodigal son’s return is worth more than gold. Then let me watch closely.”

Li Tingfang threw back his head in hearty laughter. “Perhaps this time, my Li clan has picked up a true treasure!”