LFHYB -Chapter 86 Li Xuanba Refuses to Meet

Seeing that all three elder sisters were doing well, Li Xuanba finally felt at ease.

Daniang and Erniang were away in other posts with their husbands and not in Daxing City, so Li Xuanba only visited the servants they had left in their old residence, asking them to deliver letters and gifts on his behalf.

Li Xuanba remembered that the Grand Tutor Feng whom Daniang married was one of Second Brother’s trusted followers; the couple would die during the Wude era. Erniang and her husband Dou Dan were probably in a second marriage.

If a son-in-law chosen by Li Yuan died a normal early death, there would be records of it. Those whose records were wiped away were, in all likelihood, men who had cut ties with Li Yuan during the chaotic years at the end of the Sui.

Fortunately, when Li Yuan entered Chang’an, Erniang was at his side, so her husband’s family did not go too far and protected her life.

As for whether Erniang and her husband were emotionally close—among most people of this era, it was already a luxury for husband and wife to talk about feelings at all. Mutual respect was good enough.

By comparison, Sanniang, Li Siniang, and Li Wuniang could all be said to have happy marriages.

In this age, unless the maternal family and the son-in-law’s family had concrete ties, even among noble marriages, a woman’s natal family rarely kept close contact with a daughter who had married out.

Li Xuanba had just achieved great merit, and his official rank was higher than those brothers-in-law who had already grown their hair and even come of age. Yet he still went in person to pay them respect, bringing wedding gifts and blessings to his newly-married sisters and their husbands. The brothers-in-law felt respected; the sisters felt valued. Even Li Wuniang, once she finally tore her gaze away from her husband’s glorious face, wiped away tears at Li Xuanba’s thoughtfulness.

Chai Shao, who knew Li Xuanba well, said to Li Zhao, “Dade treats you just as well as he did when you were young. You can finally be at ease.”

Li Zhao scolded him with a laugh. “Don’t slander me. I was always at ease—it was you who weren’t.”

Chai Shao laughed and admitted fault, not arguing back.

Before her marriage, Li Zhao had been doted on in the Duke of Tang’s household no less than Li Jiancheng. But after she married out, apart from the routine exchanges during festivals, her natal family hardly kept in touch.

Even though she knew this was how things were, Li Zhao still couldn’t help but feel sad.

While Li Xuanba was still in Daxing, Li Zhao could often meet her brothers over business matters. After Li Xuanba and Li Shimin left Daxing, business was mostly discussed between stewards, and Li Zhao lost the last channel through which she could frequently keep in touch with her family.

She often worried that, aside from her name, she might no longer have anything to do with her former family.

It was only when Li Xuanba came to visit her this time that she finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Li Zhao sighed to her closest maid, “I used to think Second Brother was the closest to me, and that Third Brother always treated family with more courtesy than feeling. But now that I’ve seen more of the world, I realize Third Brother may actually be the most emotionally attached of all.”

The maid understood her meaning. “It’s not that Second Master doesn’t care about you enough. It’s just that Third Master’s thoughtfulness surpasses that of others. Most men would never treat married-out sisters with such closeness and respect.”

Li Zhao nodded with a sigh. “I didn’t treat him well enough back then.”

The maid said, “Madam, don’t say that. In order to leave himself a fallback, Third Master was even willing to hand over part of his business to you for safekeeping. You’ve always supported him in return. The bond between you and Third Master is already something rarely seen in the world.”

Li Zhao showed a nostalgic expression. “Yes. Even back then, he was already different from others.”

Li Siniang and Li Wuniang also spoke to their husbands about the soap shop.

“When we were young, we didn’t understand and only thought we were fooling around with Third Brother. But after marrying and managing a household, we realized how reassuring it is to have this private income in our hands. Third Brother was already thinking about his sisters back then.”

Since Duan Lun and Zhao Cijing were not familiar with the Duke of Tang’s household, when they first heard that Third Brother had set up a soap business, they even had their own unmarried sisters invest money in it.

Their understanding of Li Xuanba deepened further.

If he could even take care of his sisters like this, Li Xuanba must be exceptionally good to his family. And when they thought of the rumors circulating among the noble and official families about the lack of harmony among the Tang Duke’s sons, Duan Lun and Zhao Cijing couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Li Xuanba.

People value first impressions. Li Xuanba looked gentle and modest, and even before growing his hair he already showed a bright, pure, gentlemanly air. Moreover, when those rumors of fraternal discord arose, Li Xuanba had truly been very young. Duan Lun and Zhao Cijing naturally leaned in his favor.

Duan Lun said to his wife, “After dealing with Eldest Master Li, I had once thought he too was a man of chivalrous spirit. It seems I misjudged him.”

Li Siniang said softly, “Before, I couldn’t speak ill of my own family. But now that I’m a married woman of your household, I dare tell you—stay farther away from Eldest Master Li.”

Duan Lun held his wife’s hand and said, “You know your natal family best. We’ll do whatever you decide.”

Li Siniang looked at him tenderly and nodded. “Mm.”

Zhao Cijing also said to Li Wuniang, “You always used to praise Erlang and Sanlang. Now that I’ve met them in person, they really do deserve it.”

Being praised by Zhao Cijing, Li Wuniang became so shy she couldn’t even speak.

Zhao Cijing was used to women being infatuated with him, but even so, seeing his wife act so bashful made him feel both amused and helpless.

He waved his hand in front of Li Wuniang’s face. “Madam, come back to yourself. If you keep acting like this, should I start wearing a mask when I talk to you?”

Li Wuniang covered her face and shook her head hard. “I—I know you’re right, my lord. I just knew you would like Erlang and Sanlang.”

Zhao Cijing said, “I haven’t met Erlang yet. But Sanlang—I’ve definitely decided to befriend him.”

Zhao Cijing did have some martial skills, but he wasn’t especially strong at them. His temperament leaned more toward that of a refined scholar who liked to sit in his study splashing ink across paper.

Both Li Yuan and Li Jiancheng were straightforward men of arms. Although they were close to him, whenever they met they either dragged him out drinking or pulled him off to go hunting, which Zhao Cijing honestly didn’t handle very well.

The moment he saw Li Xuanba, he felt they would get along.

He had heard that Erlang also liked hunting, so Zhao Cijing thought that even if Erlang was excellent, he would probably still be more compatible with Sanlang.

After establishing a preliminary friendly relationship with his brothers-in-law, Li Xuanba did not immediately return to Luoyang.

Once back in Luoyang, he would have to face his parents and Li Jiancheng, and it made him irritable. He wanted some peace and quiet.

He and Second Brother had achieved great merit and been promoted to the same rank as Li Jiancheng—Rank Five Court Gentleman. But Li Jiancheng’s “Rank Five” came from hereditary privilege, while he and Second Brother had earned theirs with the head of the Tuyuhun khan. Even setting aside their age differences, just comparing how they obtained their posts made Li Jiancheng look dull and pale by comparison.

Li Jiancheng was only in his early twenties and had not yet cultivated much breadth of mind. Seeing Second Brother and him, he was inevitably uncomfortable.

Their parents wanted their children to live in harmony, so seeing this made them anxious and led them to nag a little more.

Li Shimin was broad-minded. No matter what he heard, he just laughed it off and pretended not to hear, spending every day absorbed in hunting.

Li Xuanba, however, had no patience for listening to his parents lecture him about fraternal harmony.

Since all his teachers were in Daxing, he wrote back to Luoyang saying that he would stay there to study for a while.

Li Xuanba had loved reading since childhood. Now that he could finally settle down to scholarship, even his parents couldn’t very well disturb him.

Li Yuan said to Lady Dou, “As soon as Erlang comes back, he polishes his martial skills. As soon as Sanlang comes back, he buries himself in learning. That’s why my Erlang and Sanlang are so outstanding.”

Lady Dou smiled. “Yes.”

And then she waited until Erlang came back from hunting and gave him a good scolding.

Look at your younger brother, and then look at you! Do you think your mother is as easy to fool as your father, that I’d really believe you’re ‘training your martial skills’?

You wasted more than a year of study on the frontier, and instead of making it up, you just play every day, is that it?

After returning to her room, Lady Dou pressed her temples and sighed. Of her four sons, each had his own way of giving her headaches.

“Sanlang probably went to Daxing because he can’t stand seeing Dalang, didn’t he?” Lady Dou sighed.

Old Granny Zhang, who had served at Lady Dou’s side ever since Old Madam Dugu’s death, replied in a flat voice edged with sharpness, “Erlang and Sanlang avoid Dalang—that’s how the brothers stay harmonious.”

Lady Dou lowered her hand and gave a bitter smile. “Perhaps. I always thought time would repair their relationship. They were clearly getting along much better before.”

Granny Zhang said, “And that so-called ‘repair’—wasn’t it still Erlang and Sanlang doing all the yielding? Because they are more sensible and more filial, they keep being the ones who give way. Madam, how are you any different now from the old madam back then?”

Lady Dou’s smile grew even more bitter. “I haven’t favored Dalang.”

Granny Zhang said nothing more.

After the old madam passed away, Granny Zhang often thought that Second Young Master and Third Young Master were far more filial and considerate—especially Third Young Master, whose kindness was plain for all to see. If the old madam had favored them instead, how much happier she might have been.

That Li Jiancheng—who had angered the grandmother who doted on him until she was literally driven to death—what kind of cursed luck did he have? Why did everyone always side with him?! Just because he was the legitimate eldest son of the Duke of Tang? Why did it have to be him?!

Heavens, if you have eyes, send down a bolt of lightning and strike that unfilial, unrighteous beast dead!

Whenever Granny Zhang thought of how her old mistress had gone from decent health to falling ill from anger, and finally to death because of Li Jiancheng, she was so full of hatred she couldn’t sleep.

What hurt even more was that even after being treated like that, the person the old madam cared about most before her death was still Li Jiancheng.

Granny Zhang naturally knew that Lady Dou was different from the old madam. The old madam had blindly favored one side; Lady Dou only wanted the children she bore to live in harmony, so she tacitly allowed Erlang and Sanlang to keep yielding.

Both the palm and the back of the hand were flesh—Lady Dou had to preserve that harmony.

So Granny Zhang said nothing more.

What would be the use of speaking? What could she even say?

She only hoped Lady Dou would not, like the old madam, also be angered to death by that beast Li Jiancheng.

After finishing her service, Granny Zhang left.

Lady Dou also dismissed her chief maid, who looked conflicted and hesitant to speak.

Only she remained in the room.

She sat there for a long time, as if something were pressing down on her back, bending her spine and waist little by little.

Lady Dou collapsed onto the bedding and sobbed silently.

The Duke of Tang’s household was flourishing, but in Lady Dou’s heart, the suffering grew heavier with each passing day—as if ahead lay not blooming flowers, but an abyss.

They were all her children. What could she do?

…

Only after being scolded by his mother did Li Shimin finally slap his forehead. Oh—where’s my A-Xuan? Where did my huge little brother go? When did I lose him?

Lady Dou was so exasperated by her foolish-looking second son that she laughed despite herself. “What do you mean, ‘lost’? Sanlang went to Daxing to study. What are you doing, hm? How long are you planning to keep playing around?”

Li Shimin muttered, “I wasn’t playing around, I was honing my martial skills… ah, ow ow ow! Mother, Mother, don’t twist my ear!”

Lady Dou twisted her second son’s ear and turned it halfway around. “Hm? Honing your martial skills? Your father might fall for your nonsense, but do you think I will? You came out of my belly—I know exactly what kind of person you are!”

Li Shimin begged for mercy. “I was wrong, I was wrong! Mother, be gentle! My ear’s going to fall off!”

Lady Dou ignored his pleas. She only loosened her grip a little—just enough that it still hurt but wouldn’t injure him—and kept twisting his ear while scolding him for being so playful lately.

Li Shimin pouted and admitted his fault.

But his quick apology gave Lady Dou no comfort at all. She had seen through it: all four of her sons were the same—quick to admit mistakes, absolutely unwilling to change.

Every single one of them!

“I’ll go to Daxing to pick up my younger brother, and while I’m at it I’ll continue my studies with my teachers,” Li Shimin said with a flattering grin, covering his ear after she finally let go.

Lady Dou poked the grinning second son on the forehead. “While you’re at it? Studying is the ‘while you’re at it’ part!”

Li Shimin straightened up. “I’m going to study—picking up my brother is just along the way!”

Lady Dou pinched his lips and scolded with a laugh, “Neither of them is ‘along the way’! Go now, and be back before the Beginning of Winter. Third Son’s health is poor—he’s already suffered for a year in the northern frontier. This winter he must stay in Luoyang to recuperate!”

Li Shimin nodded like a pecking chicken. “All right, all right, I’ll go right now. Can I take Xiao Wu with me? He’s been really clingy lately.”

These days he took Xiao Wu hunting with him every day.

Lady Dou’s smile faded, her expression turning calm. “If you take Fourth Son with you as well, then I’ll allow you to take Xiao Wu.”

Li Shimin answered without hesitation, “Then forget it.”

Lady Dou’s fingers trembled slightly.

She said earnestly, “Fourth Son is also your younger brother.”

Li Shimin knew his mother was hurt, but he did not yield. “If Fourth Son treated me and A-Xuan as his older brothers, I’d naturally acknowledge him as my brother. But does he? In the past he was just ignorant, fine—but now he’s already seven or eight, and after being taught by Father and Mother for so long, when A-Xuan and I came back…”

Li Shimin snorted coldly and went on. “Mother, he said it to our faces: ‘I thought you sickly wretch would die out beyond the frontier.’ He got beaten for it, and I let it go. But until he changes, I won’t get close to him—and I won’t let A-Xuan keep wasting his kindness on him.”

Li Shimin cupped his hands. “I don’t want to make you sad, so I’ve always held back. I can keep holding back. But Mother, it’s not that A-Xuan and I haven’t tried to get close to him. I might be too lazy to bother with him, but from childhood to now, when has A-Xuan ever treated him badly?!”

The more he spoke, the more wronged he felt.

Back when they were little, his foolish younger brother had been good to Li Jiancheng and Li Yuanji—what did that get him? Li Jiancheng at least kept up a surface harmony, but Li Yuanji had bullied his frail brother since childhood. And now Mother still thought the younger brother hadn’t been good enough to Li Yuanji?

Lady Dou said, “Fourth Son is still young. He’s just a bit naughty. When he grows up, he’ll understand.”

Li Shimin cut her off. “Then we’ll talk after he grows up and understands. A-Xuan’s health is fragile—he can’t take this kind of aggravation. If Mother insists that I and Li Yuanji put on a show of brotherly affection, then I won’t go to Daxing. I’ll just stay in Luoyang and keep Li Yuanji by my side.”

Lady Dou’s heart ached. “Why say such things? Fourth Son is my child—are you and Third Son not my children as well? Have I ever treated you badly? …Go, then. But you cannot take Xiao Wu. Second Son, you should understand what I mean.”

Li Shimin dropped his hands and said in a muffled voice, “I understand. Li Yuanji is my full-blooded younger brother. If I treat my half-brother better than my own, then my relationship with Li Yuanji will only become even harder to mend.”

Lady Dou said, “It’s good that you understand. Xiao Wu has Aunt Wan to look after him—you don’t need to worry. He’s already grown; he understands too.”

Li Shimin thought to himself: when it comes to Li Yuanji, he’s “still young”; when it comes to Xiao Wu, suddenly “he’s already grown.” Mother, you really are biased.

But Li Shimin knew that a mother’s favoritism was natural. Li Yuanji was truly Mother’s own child.

Even though she tried to treat Xiao Wu as her own in everything, emotionally it was still different.

All he could do was be thankful that he and A-Xuan were also Mother’s children.

Li Xuanba had no idea that his second brother was about to be sent packing to Daxing by their mother.

If he had known, he would definitely have complained to their teachers again in advance and had them properly scold his second brother.

When Li Xuanba decided to stay behind to continue his studies, he had written to his second brother. His brother’s reply was: busy hunting, not coming.

He was truly impressed.

Worthy of being a hobby even Wei Zheng couldn’t talk him out of.

“Hmph, Wei Zheng may not be able to stop him, but Mother is still around,” Li Xuanba sneered. “Second Brother really deserves a beating from her!”

Even though he didn’t know his second brother was already on the way to Daxing, he’d still guessed his fate exactly—he was just off on the timing.

All three teachers were strict, but for Li Xuanba, who loved learning and had a photographic memory, this level of academic pressure was nothing.

Xue Daoheng wasn’t teaching him poetry, but rather official-document writing and his experience as a local official. Li Xuanba had no trouble with his studies.

What troubled him was Yuwen Bi asking whether he wanted to secretly meet Yuwen Zhu.

Li Xuanba thought about it for a long time, then refused.

He told Yuwen Bi the truth about his original life expectancy.

“I may not live past sixteen, so before sixteen it’s better that we don’t meet. Just exchanging letters is enough. If I pass away from illness in the future, Miss Yuwen won’t be too heartbroken,” Li Xuanba said. “Please keep this a secret for me, Teacher.”

Yuwen Bi sighed. “From the beginning I knew you were frail, and I discussed it with you: if you were to die young, Zhu’er would still marry into your family.”

Li Xuanba said, “I know. With Mother, Second Brother, and Second Sister-in-law looking after her, Miss Yuwen will live very well and very freely. Please don’t worry, Teacher.”

Yuwen Bi said, “I arranged for Zhu’er to marry you because of the status of being a princess consort. I’m very sorry.”

Li Xuanba shook his head. “To allow an outstanding woman to continue pursuing her dreams, and to let such an outstanding woman become my wife in name—this is my good fortune.”

Yuwen Bi said, “You will definitely survive your death calamity.”

Li Xuanba smiled. “I think so too. After I’ve passed my sixteenth birthday, I’ll go see her. Teacher, please don’t tell anyone about this.”

Yuwen Bi patted Li Xuanba’s head. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul.”

Yuwen Bi was deeply distressed—so distressed that he even fell ill.

Li Xuanba felt very guilty. Perhaps he had underestimated how important he was to Teacher Yuwen’s heart. Maybe he should have found another excuse.

But he didn’t want to lie to Teacher Yuwen.

If there were no death calamity, he actually wanted to meet Yuwen Zhu.

After ten years of transmigration, the weathered soul of his past life had already fused with the child’s body of this life. He could bicker childishly with his brothers, and he could treat many things from his previous life as mere experience. Only that bone-deep loneliness remained, impossible to dispel.

Li Xuanba’s first stirrings of romance in his previous life had come in middle school.

Like many adolescents, it wasn’t directed at any particular person. One day, he simply found a girl who passed by him rather cute—and in that moment, he became aware of the existence of romantic feelings between men and women.

That youthful flutter lasted through all of middle school and high school. Like most of his peers, he devoted himself to studying. He never fell into early romance, but the beating in his heart never disappeared.

Those stirrings gradually took shape through novels and magazines about innocent student love, through hearsay stories of other people’s romances.

Then, at seventeen, those feelings came to an abrupt halt along with his youth and his stable life.

When he was struggling just to survive, Li Xuanba had no energy to think about love or starting a family—let alone dragging someone else down with him.

Only when he was sick, or during the New Year, or when he lay on a hospital bed after nearly being beaten to death, would he go mad with longing for someone to be by his side.

At those times, he would dream of his teenage self walking hand in hand with a faceless girl across a sun-drenched school playground.

All his imaginings of love were frozen in his youth.

Now he had truly become a teenager again, and there really was a girl—still faceless to him—who would accompany him for the rest of his life. Li Xuanba thought he would be able to smoothly cultivate feelings with her, yet at the very moment they were about to meet, he shrank back.

If real feelings are born, but I end up leaving this world… what then?

Li Xuanba could leave his parents and brothers with peace of mind.

He knew his father’s affection would change. He knew his mother loved him, but she had other children she loved as well. He knew his second brother would wail in grief for him—but his second brother would also have Empress Changsun, many ministers who were like friends, and the whole world.

Family would always recover quickly from the sorrow of losing him.

And even his feelings for them were restrained. After all, these relatives all came from the history books—he knew their futures.

Nearly all of his relationships were people recorded in history, people his second brother would have had anyway.

He was a vassal, a shadow, a moon only visible because it reflected the sun’s light.

But Yuwen Zhu was different.

Among all those close to him, she was the only “person” who did not exist in the history books.

When he heard that they were about to meet, only then did Li Xuanba realize how afraid he was.

He regretted it deeply.

If I’d known, I shouldn’t even have written those letters.

“Chirp!”

As Li Xuanba was lost in thought, Wu Di bumped into him.

Li Shimin had taken Han Gou hunting, while Wu Di clung to Li Xuanba, so Li Xuanba had brought Wu Di back to Daxing.

Every day, Wu Di would fly out on its own to hunt and play, and return obediently at night.

Today, for some reason, it had come back early.

Li Xuanba stroked Wu Di’s head. “What’s wrong?”

Wu Di couldn’t speak. It only looked quietly at Li Xuanba.

In its jet-black eyes, Li Xuanba saw his own reflection.

How wretched.

…

After helping her grandfather drink his medicine, Yuwen Zhu returned to her room.

She sat on her embroidered stool, staring in a daze at the painting on her desk—a scene of flying snow, a golden eagle, and a young man galloping on horseback.

Though several days had passed, being refused a meeting still made her heart feel stifled.

Even though she knew Third Young Master Li was simply keeping to propriety and that not meeting before marriage wasn’t wrong, she couldn’t help wondering whether things might have been different if her letters had been a little more interesting.

I must have been disliked.

“Someone like me—of course I’d be disliked,” Yuwen Zhu muttered to herself. “Who would fancy a weirdo who buries herself in medicinal herbs all day, whose body reeks of medicine that even soap can’t wash away? What are you even expecting?”

She picked up a brush and moved to slash it across the painting.

But just as the brush was about to touch the paper, it hovered—just as before—an inch above it, unable to draw closer.

With a flick of her hand, Yuwen Zhu threw the brush onto the table. She stood up, walked to the bed, took off her shoes and socks, climbed up, and burrowed under the quilt, sitting cross-legged until she looked like a small triangular “quilt-mountain.”

If she stayed inside the quilt-mountain for a while, she would calm down.

“Chirp!”

“Ah?! Where did that huge bird come from?! Go away!”

“Is that someone’s hunting falcon? It’s got silk tied around its neck. Did it get lost?”

“Chirp chirp chirp!”

“Damn hunting falcon! Don’t claw my peonies!”

“Ah! It landed on the roof! It’s even pulling up the tiles!”

“Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!”

“Is that beast making faces at us?”

“How could a bird mock people—damn it! It’s throwing tiles at us with its claws! Is it a bird or a monkey?!”

Yuwen Zhu poked a small head out from the crack in her quilt-mountain.