Chapter Twenty-Six: An Uncertain Future

It is often said that a woman’s intuition is the most formidable, for their judgment is exceptionally keen and frequently accurate. If that be true, then a young girl’s intuition is even more terrifying—she might perceive whether you are staring at her backside or her thighs from behind without even needing to turn around.

Thus, Cai Yan immediately sensed the genuine solemnity and goodwill conveyed in Fei Qian’s greeting, unlike others who performed the motions with standard etiquette but harbored a perfunctory attitude in their hearts.

She was also quite satisfied with being addressed as "Senior Sister." Having always been called "Junior Sister" in the past, she finally enjoyed the seniority of the title. She took two quick steps, placed the sheepskin scrolls she was holding into Cai Yong’s hands, and returned the greeting to Fei Qian.

Since he was a registered student, he was no longer a stranger, and there was no need for her to avoid him.

"Ahem..." Cai Yong looked at the two scrolls in his hands. "What are these?"

"Ah," Cai Yan realized, and since the person in question was present, she quickly explained to her father, "I found these in the library. Look, this scroll is recorded in the script of Shendu, and this one in that of Dashi. Both contain characters that bear a resemblance to... well... the script used by Junior Brother Fei."

Fei Qian had not originally been qualified to call her "Senior Sister," as he was merely a registered student, but before Cai Yong could react, his daughter had already responded through her words and actions. Cai Yong had no choice but to pretend he had not heard and let the matter slide.

"So it is!" Cai Yong examined them closely. Comparing them side by side, there was indeed a striking similarity, so he beckoned Fei Qian to come forward and take a look.

Fei Qian finally felt a weight lift from his heart and stepped forward to take the scrolls.

The sheepskin was ancient. Despite efforts to preserve it, there were inevitable creases, dark stains, and even traces of moth damage; it was somewhat dilapidated. The pigments used were unknown, but after the passage of time, they remained legible. Fei Qian did not understand the text, but the characters were indeed somewhat similar to modern letters.

Judging by Cai Yan’s words, one was from Shendu and the other from Dashi. Fei Qian was not certain if "Shendu" referred to ancient India, but he knew "Dashi"—it was the ancient term for the countries along the Silk Road where people wore Muslim robes, including Persia and Arabia.

With that, the mystery was solved.

Fei Qian held up the scrolls to return them, saying, "As a child, I was mischievous and often found traditional counting cumbersome. I saw people from Dashi in the marketplace using a simpler method. Later, I happened upon these bamboo slips, and I often used this system as a substitute to save on ink and brush... After all... fine paper is quite expensive."

Cai Yong stroked his beard and nodded. "I see that this method is indeed simple, though it is quite inconvenient to use on bamboo slips. It would be better suited for paper." Cai Yong was correct; after all, Arabic numerals are only convenient when paper is in wide use. Otherwise, carving twisted letters into bamboo is far less efficient than carving the straight, structured strokes of Chinese characters.

However, Cai Yong felt no need to stifle a young man’s spirit of innovation, so he said gently, "Ziyuan, your innovation is indeed quite convenient for arithmetic. Perhaps it has its uses. Come, explain what these characters mean."

Fei Qian proceeded to explain the Arabic numerals from 0 to 9 to Cai Yong and Cai Yan, and he spun a tale that the letters 'x', 'y', and 'z' represented the "earthly elements" in arithmetic, akin to the earthly branches of Zi, Chou, Yin, and Mao. It just so happened that 'x' and the character for 'Zi' bore a visual resemblance, and Cai Yong and Cai Yan accepted the explanation almost without question.

By the time Fei Qian finished his explanation, evening had arrived, and he hurriedly bid farewell to Cai Yong.

Cai Yong made no move to keep him for dinner. On one hand, he was like a child with a new toy, eager to keep experimenting with these numbers and letters to solve problems from his arithmetic texts. On the other hand, they had only met a few times, and keeping him for a meal would have felt awkward for both parties. He had his servant escort Fei Qian home.

Long after Fei Qian had departed, Cai Yong suddenly realized something and stopped his writing. "Oh my, those were Ziyuan’s bamboo fragments. How did I forget to let him take them back?"

"Father, you didn't say anything, so who would dare touch them?" Cai Yan saw the housekeeper signaling that the meal was ready. She walked over, tugged at her father’s sleeve, and said, "Just have him take them back next time. Come, Father, it's time to eat!"

"Don't pull, don't pull! Very well, let us go!" Cai Yong reluctantly set down his brush and walked with Cai Yan to dine. As they walked, he suddenly recalled something else and said to her, "Before Ziyuan arrived earlier, Mengde stopped by and brought a set of ancient texts. If you are interested, you might take a look after we eat."

"Senior Brother Mengde came today?" Cai Yan was surprised. Since Cai Yong had decided to marry her off to Wei Zhongdao, Cao Cao had rarely visited the Cai residence.

Cai Yong asked on a whim, "Yan’er, what do you think of Mengde?"

Cai Yan rolled her eyes at her father. Given her intelligence, she knew exactly what he meant. "Does Father dislike me so much that you must rush to get rid of me? Senior Brother Mengde is already married; would you have me go there as a concubine?"

Cai Yong gasped. "I was merely speaking casually, with no such intention." *That's right,* he thought, *how could I have forgotten that Mengde is a married man? Alas, I am truly growing old.*

Cai Yong looked at his gentle, lovely daughter by his side, his heart filled with pity. As he aged, career and wealth mattered little; his greatest wish was to find a suitable home for his daughter.

But it was not easy to choose. Among the children of the noble families, only a few were equal to their own standing, and those were either already married or—Cai Yong glanced at Cai Yan, feeling a pang of heartache—no longer suitable.

If he lowered his standards, it would be a grievance to her. He had misjudged the Wei family once; this time, he had to deliberate carefully. He could not let Yan’er suffer again.

As they ate, Cai Yong suddenly exclaimed and tapped his forehead. Cai Yan asked what was wrong, but he only smiled and said it was a trivial matter he had forgotten, and that it didn't matter. Although she was puzzled, she let it go.

The sunset faded. Though only father and daughter dined in the Cai residence, the simple meal was filled with warmth and affection. In contrast, at the Wenming Garden—the imperial park of the Han dynasty—a banquet was being held. While the food was incomparably lavish and filled with delicacies, the guests were distracted, exchanging glances, and the entire gathering was thick with a strange, ominous atmosphere.

After days of silent maneuvering, Dong Zhuo had finally made a grand, public invitation to the Three Ducal Ministers, the Nine Ministers, and the key officials of the imperial court to attend this feast.

The officials sat in their places, each harboring his own hidden thoughts—some were restless and anxious, others filled with suppressed indignation. Their expressions and attitudes varied, but one thing was certain: this evening’s banquet was a stage for Dong Zhuo to declare his intentions, and it would decide the future of the empire. By comparison, what they ate was of no importance at all.

The head table remained empty. The banquet had been underway for some time, but Dong Zhuo, the host, had yet to arrive.