Chapter 45: The Legend of Wealth and Rivalry

The onset of Li Mi's illness was so sudden that it caught everyone completely off guard.

Although Liu Xian had noticed his pale complexion and long suspected that he was unwell, judging by Li Mi’s usual erratic behavior, he had assumed it was merely some minor ailment common among the elderly that would not interfere with daily life. He had never expected that when the illness finally struck, it would manifest as terrifying bouts of vomiting blood, leaving him unconscious.

Fortunately, the physician summoned earlier due to Liu Xian's heatstroke was still staying at the residence, and he immediately stepped in to administer emergency treatment, narrowly managing to bring Li Mi back from the brink.

"This gentleman's liver condition has already become severe, damaging his lungs and visceral organs. It has merely broken out now. I shall prescribe a decoction of capillary wormwood for him. There will be no immediate danger in the short term, but looking at the long run, without a cure, he has at most a year or two left."

Hearing the physician pronounce such a verdict, Liu Xian was utterly shocked.

Though he did not share a deep emotional bond with his new tutor—and even harbored a degree of resentment toward him—he had vaguely sensed that this recluse from Mount Kongkong possessed an innate elegance and nobility, as well as a vast store of classical learning. Yet the man was willing to spend his time instructing Liu Xian, lived in profound seclusion with no family members or attendants by his side, and was undoubtedly a former official of the state of Shu Han who shared deep historical ties with the Liu family. Now, upon learning that the man was suffering from a terminal illness, Liu Xian experienced a turbulent mix of emotions. For a moment, he did not know what to say, and could only instruct the household servants to tend to the old man with the utmost care.

With Li Mi fallen ill, the evening lessons were canceled, leaving Liu Xian with an unaccustomed leisure that made him somewhat at a loss. Seeing that the moonlight outside the window was exceptionally fine, he walked alone to the edge of the irrigation canal to catch the breeze.

Because of the severe drought, the water level in the canal was low and shallow, forming only a thin film, yet it still retained a trace of dampness. Standing beneath a willow tree, Liu Xian heard the croaking of frogs from the bottom of the ditch. He fell silent for a moment, pondering the words and underlying intentions of his new tutor.

Originally, he had believed the teacher's explanation that the old man had come at Chen Shou's invitation to temper him as a recluse of the fallen state. But now, it seemed unlikely.

"He is dying, yet he has abandoned his family to stay by my side. Either he holds deep affection for me, or he harbors great expectations for me."

Liu Xian's thoughts quickly touched the core of the problem, yet whichever of the two it might be, it left him feeling somewhat bewildered. Throughout their time together, he had not developed any profound emotional attachment to Li Mi, as neither had been entirely sincere toward the other. Moreover, looking back now, the old man's arrangements seemed rather absurd: having been absent for so long, he had come to find Liu Xian only when on the verge of death. What was the point? He would witness nothing. To do such a thing could only have one possible explanation:

"He wants to make up for a regret in his life, or to erase some past guilt."

This realization made Liu Xian feel somewhat cruel. When a person faces regret and is helpless, they can only place their hopes in the hands of others; such hopes are destined to be illusory, and perhaps even irredeemable. The burden he already carried upon his own shoulders was heavy enough. To carry the weight of his mother, his family, his clan, his friends, and his in-laws as he moved forward often left him bewildered; how could he possibly bear the pressure of yet another person?

"Once I help him walk this final stretch of the road, I will have done all that duty and benevolence require."

Thinking thus, Liu Xian decided to return to his room to rest. Yet, having made this resolution, he found it somewhat difficult to fall asleep. Li Mi's face kept surfacing in his mind—the old man constantly vomiting blood and recounting the various regrets of the fall of Shu Han. He tried to block out the images, but soon, the blood-vomiting Li Mi transformed into his mother. Zhang Ximiao's soundless, weeping grief struck Liu Xian with immense force, and he found himself growing sorrowful as well, yearning to shed tears.

In his dream, his mother said that she loathed this mortal world and harbored deep resentment toward everyone in it. Hearing her say this, Liu Xian, too, began to detest the world of men. Amidst this feeling of revulsion, he repeatedly imagined all sorts of unreasonable things in the world, gradually boiling over with rage.

When he heard his mother mention that on the night Chengdu fell into chaos, she too had been murdered by someone, a chorus of children's voices suddenly rang out beside his ears, calling him "Duke of Anle, Duke of the Fallen State." Raising his eyes, however, there was nothing there. Lowering his head again, his mother was gone, replaced by numerous emaciated figures of little Mei weeping softly. Trembling all over with indignation, Liu Xian finally burst out with the impassioned declaration:

"Enough, stop crying! I will change all of this!"

"How will you change it!"

"I shall restore the state!"

In his dream, his heroic spirit soared to the heavens as he uttered those words without any warning. At that very moment, he suddenly opened his eyes. The sky had already grown quite bright, and the chirping of birds drifted in from outside.

Liu Xian lifted the cold quilt and pressed one hand to his forehead. Everything from the dream was still vividly present; his mother's tear-stained face remained sharply etched before his eyes.

"To restore the state..." He closed his eyes and whispered softly. An incredible yet tender wave of sorrow washed over his entire body. He felt that the version of himself in the dream was utterly absurd, and that what he had said made no sense whatsoever, yet he inexplicably wanted to weep.

State restoration—this was a term he had never once considered, yet somehow, without his knowing, it had already embedded itself within his dreams.

"Just idle dream talk..." he muttered to himself. He descended the loft, partook of his morning meal, and went through his morning routine as usual: drawing the bow for two quarters of an hour, practicing the sword for one quarter, and reciting texts for one quarter. Then, shouldering his hoe and carrying his carrying pole, he set off toward the fields.

Having habitually come to a halt in the fields, it suddenly dawned on him that today, without Li Mi by his side, he could actually slack off and cease these meaningless tasks. Yet, looking at the dense crops he had tended for half a year, which now stood waist-high, he felt a lingering reluctance. After pondering for a moment, he removed his outer tunic as usual, scooped water from the canal, and began carrying the wooden buckets to irrigate the fields.

Silently and imperceptibly, the entire morning slipped away. Little Mei came to deliver his meal as she always did, and seeing that only Liu Xian was there, she asked anxiously, "I heard the old master was vomiting blood. How is he? Is it nothing serious?"

Liu Xian sighed, "Ah-tian and the others are taking care of him! The physician said there's no major danger in the short term."

Hearing this, little Mei looked deeply troubled and whispered, "Is he really all right? When I was six, my grandfather also vomited blood, and just three days later, his whole body went stiff."

Knowing that must have been a sorrowful scene, Liu Xian offered words of comfort: "A virtuous person has his own natural protection, and many things are not up to us to decide." Then he added, "You probably didn't eat your fill today either. Look, the household prepared food for three people, but there are only the two of us here. Eat a bit more, and take whatever you can't finish back home with you."

His original intention was merely ordinary sympathy, but unexpectedly, upon hearing this, little Mei burst into tears, leaving Liu Xian completely at a loss. It took him a long time to comfort her and stop her tears, after which she sobbed out her tale: "The young master is so kind, you made me think of my elder sister..."

As it turned out, six years ago, the elderly member of the He family had fallen gravely ill. But that had coincided with a year of great famine, when the family did not even have half a month's worth of rations left, let alone money for a burial. Little Mei's father, He Cheng, driven to desperation and after consulting his family, had hurried to the slave market in Luoyang and sold his eldest daughter, then eleven years old, to a wealthy household as a servant. Only then did he have the money to bury the old man and secure enough grain to barely survive that crisis.

Though they had never met since, little Mei still deeply missed her elder sister and told Liu Xian, "Back then, there was no grain at home, and we could only drink a little watery gruel. Seeing that I was small, my elder sister took me out to dig wild herbs, and we waded in the river for half a day until we caught three tiny peach blossom fish, and only then did she boil a bowl of soup for me to eat..."

Listening to little Mei's description, Liu Xian nodded and praised, "She truly was a good elder sister."

Just as they were speaking, a sound echoed across the pathways between the fields—a sound Liu Xian was thoroughly familiar with: the sound of horse hooves.

He looked up toward the source of the sound and saw a youth in brocade garments galloping swiftly toward them on a fast horse. The steed's body was as majestic as a tiger, and as it raced forward, even the pebbles along the path vibrated slightly. When it finally halted right in front of Liu Xian, it felt as though a wall of air was pressing down, momentarily cutting off Liu Xian's breath. Little Mei was so frightened that she hid behind him, not daring to look the newcomer in the eye.

However, once Liu Xian recognized the youth on horseback, a smile immediately spread across his face. He stepped forward a couple of paces and laughed, "Ha, Xinu, where did you manage to get such a fine horse?"

The youth on horseback vaulted down, revealing a powerful and ornate military uniform. It was none other than Shi Chao. Over the past few years, he had grown taller, turning into a spirited young man over seven chi in height with a long sword hanging at his waist. Upon meeting, he bumped chests with Liu Xian and boasted proudly, "This is the Xianbei Black Dragon Steed my sixth uncle brought from Daobei. I begged him for it. Look, Piji, isn't it magnificent?"

Liu Xian laughed, "Magnificent? The legendary sweat-blood steed of antiquity can scarcely be any better than this!"

"Not bad, not bad! How could I dare compare it to a sweat-blood horse!" Hearing his friend's praise, Shi Chao laughed heartily. Then, looking around, he asked with a puzzled expression, "How is it that only you are here? Where is your teacher?"

After the mourning period ended and before he became Li Mi's disciple, Liu Xian had frequently gone hunting in Mount Wan'an with Shi Chao, day and night without stopping, enjoying supreme delight. But after becoming a disciple, Liu Xian took up farming in the fields, and those good times were gone for good. Shi Chao had often grumbled about this, believing that the man from Mount Kongkong was simply looking for trouble where none existed, and as a result, he had gradually visited the Eastern Docks less and less—which was one of the main reasons Liu Xian disliked Li Mi. Today, as was his custom after a hunting trip, Shi Chao had likely taken a detour specifically to check on Liu Xian.

Upon hearing that Li Mi had fallen gravely ill and was bedridden, Shi Chao let out a loud laugh and clapped his hands, declaring on the spot, "I always said the wicked would get their just deserts! That old man walked around with a bitter face all day, as if everyone owed him three debts of blood. It's only right that heaven has come to claim him."

These words were thoroughly impolite, causing little Mei to let out a cold snort. Liu Xian felt extremely awkward, not knowing how to respond appropriately.

Fortunately, Shi Chao acted as though little Mei did not exist and smoothly bypassed the topic, asking instead, "So that means you have nothing to do right now?"

Unsure of what Shi Chao was implying, Liu Xian stammered, "I suppose so..."

Shi Chao grabbed him by the arm and said with mild dissatisfaction, "What do you mean by 'suppose so'? Didn't the old man kick the bucket already? Is there anyone else controlling you? Having free time means having free time."

Liu Xian asked him, "What are you planning to do? Didn't you just come back from hunting? Surely you aren't thinking of dragging me out again?"

Shi Chao replied, "Ah, since I borrowed this horse from my sixth uncle, I have to return it to him. So later on, I'm heading over to his private estate. If you're free, I can take you along."

"What are we going there for?"

"To broaden your horizons." Stroking the robust Black Dragon Steed beside him, Shi Chao said proudly with a smile, "What? Have you never heard of Shi Chong's Jingu Garden?"

"You mean the Jingu Garden at Zize?" Liu Xian suddenly understood.

"Of course!"

If one were to name the two most famous figures in Luoyang during this period, they belonged neither to the literary world, nor the political arena, nor military circles. They were Wang Kai and Shi Chong.

One of them was the younger brother of the late Empress Dowager Wang Yuanji, while the other was a concubine-born son of Shi Bao, the Duke of Leiling. Though both possessed noble births, neither held any real power. Logically speaking, they ought not to have captured the public eye, content merely to live as wealthy men of leisure. Yet, utterly unexpectedly, these two chose to compete fiercely in the realm of luxury and wealth.

How to live a life of extravagance sounds simple enough—it merely requires spending more money. But how to spend it pleasingly, how to spend it uniquely, and how to spend it in a way that offered a completely fresh experience—that was a profound art. The vulgarest method was to replace everything with gold to achieve a dazzling display, but firstly, that lacked refinement; secondly, gold had no practical utility; and thirdly, it was difficult to acquire such vast quantities of gold, making it the most impractical approach.

It was unclear who had first initiated this game of flaunting wealth, but unquestionably, both participants relished it. By the time the general public became aware of what was happening, Lord Wang Kai was already using sugar water to wash his pots, while the Sixth Young Master Shi was burning candles to cook meals.

Later on, Wang Kai engaged in commerce, procuring from Qingzhou a purple silk windbreak forty li long, capable of encircling the entire city of Luoyang. Not to be outdone, Shi Chong urgently requisitioned fifty li of embroidered silk windbreak from the region of Shu, capable of ringing the entirety of Mount Wan'an.

Wang Kai devised a novel approach, purchasing thirty shi of red talcum from Bingzhou to paint the interior and exterior of his mansion a brilliant vermilion. Shi Chong followed closely behind, procuring fifty shi of Sichuan peppercorns from southern Hunan, grinding them into fine powder to coat his walls so that fragrance drifted for three li around.

By now, the two had even begun competing over their ox-carts.

Logically speaking, ox-carts were far inferior in speed to horse-drawn carriages, but precisely for that reason, they served as a better showcase of one's financial foundation and resources.

The ox belonging to Wang Kai's household was named Eight Hundred Li, proudly claimed to be capable of galloping eight hundred li in a single day and night. Meanwhile, Shi Chong's ox was bluntly named Precious Red Hare—implying, as the name suggested, that it was even rarer than the legendary mount ridden by Lü Bu in years past. Nowadays, the two households frequently traveled about. Passersby had no idea what urgent business they might have, only to suddenly witness the two carts whipping their oxen into a mad dash, racing neck and neck along the great avenue like lightning. Often, with a single accelerated turn, onlookers would only catch a blurred glimpse of the carriages before nothing was left but a cloud of dust.

The scale and bizarre nature of their competition in wealth was such that even Liu Xian, farming quietly in the Eastern Docks, had heard tales of it. He had also heard that recently, Shi Chong had acquired a thousand mu of land twenty-seven li northeast of the capital near the Jingu Caves on Mount Mang, directly transforming it into a suburban villa estate. There, he had carved through stone to divert water, excavated artificial lakes, and built pavilions and storied towers that rose and fell in undulating harmony, a place people referred to as Zize. Rumors within the capital region held that the luxury of Jingu Garden rivaled the imperial palace itself, while its elegance even surpassed it.

Liu Xian had initially assumed these were merely exaggerated jests spread by the ignorant. After all, displaying wealth to such an extreme defied all reason and logic. As a scion of a distinguished lineage, Shi Chong ought not to have behaved in such a manner, and so Liu Xian had simply laughed the rumors off. Yet hearing Shi Chao speak of it today, it did not sound like mere falsehood.

Should he go or not? Liu Xian hesitated. His inner inclination leaned more toward not going; after all, Li Mi was currently gravely ill, and even if he disliked his teacher, he still needed to maintain the propriety expected of a disciple. He said, "Would it not be overly presumptuous for me to go uninvited..."

Shi Chao waved his hand impatiently. "What's presumptuous about it? I'm his nephew, and you're my friend. I'm taking you along, so you're hardly an outsider."

Liu Xian intended to find another excuse to decline politely, but suddenly, little Mei tugged at his sleeve from behind and asked in a low voice, "Does this young master belong to the Shi family?"

Not quite understanding, Liu Xian nevertheless nodded in the affirmative. Little Mei instantly grew excited and said, "Then can the young master take me along? I remember my elder sister was sold to the Shi family. I want to see her..."

Sold to the Shi family? Liu Xian was momentarily stunned before realization dawned. With Shi Chong's penchant for extravagant displays of wealth, purchasing large numbers of maidservants was only to be expected; he simply hadn't anticipated such an extraordinary coincidence—that she had been sold precisely into the household of one of his own family's tenants.

Yet Shi Chao clearly would not consent to him bringing little Mei along. After pondering for a moment, Liu Xian formed a plan in his mind. He asked little Mei, "What is your elder sister's name?"

"He Qing."

"It won't be convenient for you to go," Liu Xian said, pinching little Mei's distressed cheek to comfort her. "However, I will make inquiries and look for her. If she is not being treated well, I will bring her back."