Qin's Moon: Yang Shi's Long Song

On the day Zhang Ping arrived at Zilan Pavilion, he wore a dark brown casual suit, without any entourage or gongs to clear the way. He was followed only by one attendant, who stood at the door without entering. He pushed open the door himself and walked into the main hall, stopping in front of the counter, resting his hand on the countertop, without sitting down.

Zi Nu was wiping cups behind the counter. When she looked up, she glanced at the man who had just arrived—about fifty years old, with a thin face and a vertical line between his brows, a man who was perpetually frowning. His clothes were of good quality, but worn plainly, the collar slightly faded from washing. Zi Nu put down the cup she was holding. She recognized him. Han Fei had described Zhang Ping's appearance—"Thin, with a line between his brows, looking at you like he's interrogating someone." She gave a slight bow: "Prime Minister Zhang."

Zhang Ping nodded. "Is Han Fei here?"

"He's upstairs. Please have a seat, I'll go get him."

As Zi Nu turned to go upstairs, her steps were slightly quicker than usual. She knocked twice on the door of the elegant room, opened it a crack, and said to Han Fei, who was writing inside, "Prime Minister Zhang is here. Downstairs." Han Fei stopped writing. He put down his pen, stood up, and didn't ask, "What does he want?" He walked out of the elegant room and downstairs.

Zhang Ping remained standing at the counter, not sitting down. He saw Han Fei come down the stairs, his gaze lingering on his face—as if to confirm, "Has this kid lost weight lately?" Then he said, "My good-for-nothing son didn't come home all night."

Han Fei walked to the counter, neither sitting nor leaning against it, but standing upright. "He copied things from here last night, not leaving until nightfall."

"He didn't go home after he left," Zhang Ping said. "He didn't come this morning either. The academy said he didn't ask for leave, and the bedding in his room hasn't been touched."

Han Fei paused for a moment. He didn't say, "I did see him leave last night," nor did he say, "He might have gone somewhere else." He looked at Zhang Ping and said, "You came to me wanting to ask where he might be?"

Zhang Ping looked at Han Fei. His gaze was deep and unwavering—the gaze of someone who had once been a prime minister, measured and deliberate, yet scrutinizing every inch. Then he pulled a folded piece of hemp paper from his sleeve, placed it on the counter, and pushed it towards Han Fei. "Before he left last night, he left a note for Old Chen, the cook in the kitchen, asking him to heat up some porridge for him the next morning. Old Chen noticed he hadn't returned this morning, so he opened the note and glanced at it. There was a sentence written on the back."

Han Fei picked up the piece of hemp paper and turned it over. On the back was a line of small characters, Zhang Liang's handwriting—Han Fei recognized it; he had been studying it for over half a year. The writing was very light, as if he had hesitated while writing, unsure whether to keep it. There were only six characters on it:

"The law should not be abolished because of people."

Han Fei stared at that line of text for a long time. Then he folded the hemp paper, put it back on the counter, looked at Zhang Ping, and said, "He's alright. He's just looking for the answer."

(Please remember the website ①⓪①ⓚⓚⓢ.ⓒⓞⓜ for the fastest chapter updates)

Zhang Ping didn't press for "what answer." He paused for a moment, then said, "What did you show him?"

"I showed him a chapter of what I wrote. After he finished reading it, he asked me a question. I haven't answered it yet."

Zhang Ping looked at Han Fei, the scrutiny in his gaze slowly fading, replaced by something else—like a father judging whether "this person is worth my son following." Then he said, "When will you answer?"

"I'm waiting for someone," Han Fei said. "When that person arrives, we can answer together."

Zhang Ping didn't ask any more questions. He tucked the hemp paper into his sleeve, straightened up, and turned to walk towards the door. He paused at the door, turned his head, and said to Han Fei behind him, "Tell him to go home for a meal tomorrow. His mother is waiting for him."

Han Fei said, "I will tell him."

Zhang Ping walked out of Zi Lan Xuan. His attendants followed him, disappearing into the crowd at the street corner. Han Fei stood by the counter, watching the door close again. Zi Nu came down the stairs, paused beside him, holding a cup of tea, but didn't offer it to him. She simply held it, as if to say, "You can choose whether to drink it or not."

Han Fei didn't take the cup of tea. He said, "His statement last night, 'The law should not be abandoned because of people,' was an answer to his own question."

Zi Nu said, "What?"

"He asked me—if the law enforcers are corrupt, is the law still effective? After he got home, he wrote those six words and left them with Old Chen. He was saying—even if the law enforcers are corrupt, the law itself still needs to stand on paper."

After saying this, Han Fei turned and went upstairs. He stopped halfway down the stairs, glancing sideways at Zi Nu. "Please tell Yang Hui for me: Zhang Liang isn't coming today. But he might come tomorrow with his prepared answer."

Zi Nu stood behind the counter, watching the empty space on the stairs. After a while, she put down her cup of tea without drinking it. She walked to the backyard gate and saw Yang Hui washing his gray cloth shirt by the well. She stood at the gate and said, "Zhang Xiang came by. He was looking for Zhang Liang. Zhang Liang didn't come home last night."

Yang Hui's hands didn't stop; he continued fiddling with the collar. "Have you found the person?"

Han Fei said he was fine.

"That's fine then."

Zi Nu glanced at him. Then she turned and went back to the kitchen.