Chapter Thirty-Three: A Funeral in the Shan Family

“You have a lively temperament and a mind as intricate as a puzzle box. But don’t think that relying on cunning and cleverness alone will let you rise above others. If you don’t learn to restrain your nature, sooner or later you’ll bring disaster upon yourself!” On the day of departure, Qin Qiong solemnly admonished Yun Hao, gently patting his head. It seemed as if all those who’d lived long liked to ramble on, as though voicing such remarks were the only way to show the wisdom of age.

“Listen to him, child. Lord Qin is saying this for your own good.” Madam Zhao chimed in from the side. Yun Hao, recalling his actions in his past life, sighed inwardly. Perhaps he, too, had been cursed countless times by the younger generation. Maybe it was the weight of all those curses that had sent him into the world of the Great Tang, reborn as a little brat to be schooled by the immortal Door God.

Fine, since you’re so devoted to teaching, I’ll play the obedient child. Otherwise, it’s impossible to shake off their endless nagging.

“Thank you for your guidance, Lord Qin. I understand now. From now on, I’ll study hard, improve every day, and strive to be a well-rounded child, excelling in virtue, intellect, sports, the arts, and labor.” Yun Hao pouted and put on his best well-behaved act. Unexpectedly, Qin Qiong gave him a slap and dismissed his words as “nonsense” before turning and leaving.

No sooner had Qin Qiong slapped him than Madam Zhao followed suit, scolding as she did, “Lord Qin is trying to teach you, and you’re babbling nonsense. What’s all this about going up and down? If you keep spouting such things, that Taoist priest Wei might accuse you of being possessed and burn you with his True Samadhi Fire.”

Yun Hao was stunned. All he’d done was recite a slogan from his childhood, and now he might be accused of demonic possession. Wasn’t anyone allowed to speak? It was just a slip of the tongue—he’d said it so often as a child that it had become a habit. Damn those moral education teachers, always making you shout slogans every day.

“Hao, can we leave now?” Fortunately, Hou Junji’s voice rescued Yun Hao. But when he turned around, Yun Hao was startled. Hou Junji, with his younger siblings, was busy packing up everything in the house. If the house itself could have been moved, Hou Junji would likely have dismantled it without hesitation. Good heavens, were they really trying to move house in a bandit’s lair?

“Are you sure you can carry all that?” Yun Hao pointed at Qi Biao and Lai Shun, who were struggling to hoist a low couch and a table stacked together.

“No problem, Brother Hao, we can manage. It’s a waste to leave these things behind. Better we use them than let them rot here. Once we reach Jinyang, we won’t have to buy new stuff either,” Lai Shun replied, sounding like someone well-versed in household economy.

“Nonsense! It’s three or four hundred li from here to Jinyang. If you two have the guts, try carrying all that the entire way. And you—put down that chicken coop! Those chickens belong to this manor. How do you expect to leave carrying all this? And you, Hou Junji, you’re even trying to steal their sheep…!”

Yun Hao stormed over on his short legs, grabbing a willow branch and chasing everyone around the courtyard, sending chickens and dogs scattering.

These country bumpkins had never seen the world and were so used to hardship that everything looked valuable to them. They wanted to take everything, even the coarse cloth by the stove. This wasn’t moving house; it was outright robbery—robbing a bandit stronghold, no less. If this wasn’t asking for trouble, what was?

After much effort, Yun Hao managed to make these misers put everything back. He and Hou Junji took the lead, Madam Zhao followed with the smaller children in the middle, and Qi Biao and Lai Shun guarded the flanks. The group set off in grand procession, preparing to leave the manor behind. From Luzhou to Jinyang was a journey of three or four hundred li; it would take some time on the road.

“Brother Hao, why do we have to go to Jinyang? Why not Luoyang? I hear the Emperor is building a new capital there—the days are said to be grand!” Hou Junji, who had been running errands at banquets lately, had picked up some news of the times.

Of course, Yun Hao wasn’t about to tell him that Li Yuan was an ambitious man. In a few years, he would raise an army, seize Guanzhong, and take Chang’an, founding the famed Tang dynasty. His son, Li Shimin, would, after a most unusual transfer of power, defeat the Turks to the north and pacify the Nanzhao to the south, becoming the revered Heavenly Khan.

But before Yun Hao could reply, a manor servant galloped into the Erxian Manor, prompting a frown. The place looked lax, but actually operated under strict discipline. Yun Hao had never seen anyone dare ride a horse inside before. Moments later, the wailing of grief rose from the inner quarters, mingled with the furious roar of Dan Xiongxin. Servants dashed about like headless chickens—something serious had happened.

Hou Junji, clever as ever, seized the chance to grab a familiar youth and ask, “What’s going on?”

“It’s bad—our lord has been shot dead by an arrow! They say it was a high-ranking court official who killed him. Now all the leaders are in the hall discussing what to do.” Yun Hao immediately understood—Li Yuan really had killed Dan’s elder brother. This was no small matter. When the heroes of Wagang Fort later surrendered to the Tang, Dan Xiongxin refused to yield because Li Yuan had killed his brother. In the end, he met a tragic death in defeat.

Thinking of this, Yun Hao became even more determined to distance himself from Dan Xiongxin. He had no wish to become a great hero—just to find a place to live an idle, comfortable life. Luoyang was a battleground, plagued by endless warfare—not fit for human habitation. Jinyang, at least, was a haven untouched by conflict, a peach blossom spring in troubled times. As for Li Yuan and Li Shimin raising their rebellion—who cared? As long as he and his mother could eat and drink well, let them rebel against Emperor Yang of Sui, or even the Jade Emperor himself—Yun Hao would just watch the spectacle, munching on melon seeds and cheering at the highlights.

“Hao’er, the family has suffered a bereavement. Shouldn’t we stay and help? We’ve been guests here for so long—it doesn’t feel right to leave now.” Madam Zhao was kind-hearted and wanted to stay and lend a hand.

“Mother, look at all the people here—do they really need you? Let’s get on the road while the weather is good and cover more ground. Now that we have silver, once we reach Jinyang, we can open a tavern. With my skills, you’ll live a life of ease!” With that, Yun Hao took Madam Zhao and Hou Junji and their group onto the road.

Meanwhile, Dan Xiongxin was raging in the Hall of Brotherhood. Wang Bodang and Li Mi sat in silence, Qin Qiong sat unmoved in his chair. Only Xie Yingdeng and Qi Guoyuan stood at Dan Xiongxin’s side, shouting, “Li Yuan! I, Dan Xiongxin, will be your sworn enemy. One day, I will cut off your head to honor my unjustly slain brother!”