Chapter Thirty-Three: That Trace of the Setting Sun (Part One)

“Seeds? What kind of seeds?” Li Fu asked.

“Seeds of chaos, seeds of hope—they all exist,” replied the Elder of Wine, pausing to reflect before continuing.

“The matriarch didn’t only take action against the elders within the family; even her own descendants were not spared. Some were forced to take their own lives, others cast out of the clan. For a time, dissent within the family was silenced, yet the voices of opposition never truly ceased. Among several collateral branches, there were those who honored the dying wishes of the old scholar, willing to bring back the exiled direct line to restore them as heads of the family.”

“Just as their plan reached its most crucial stage, none foresaw that one branch, seeking favor in the family, would betray them, revealing the entire plot in detail. In a furious rage, the matriarch executed all the branches involved in the scheme. Yet these elders were far from ordinary. They hid the secret in a place no one could have imagined.” At this, a trace of satisfaction crossed the Elder of Wine’s face, as if deeply pleased with the choice of hiding place—perhaps, indeed, he was one of those elders.

“And what happened afterward? Did the direct line of the old scholar’s eldest son survive?”

The three, Li Fu among them, listened intently as the Elder of Wine slowly unraveled the tale, the scene reminiscent of a family elder recounting past days to three young grandchildren.

“For a long time, everyone in the family believed the direct line had not survived the matriarch’s purge. Yet no matter how thorough the cleansing, there are always seeds left behind. That line, in the end, outlasted the matriarch’s reign,” the Elder sighed softly.

“What followed nearly split the great family in two. For the sake of her rule, the matriarch fostered factions loyal only to herself, ruthlessly suppressing others, seeking to stamp all the family’s enterprises with her own mark. But what the elders could not tolerate was that she wanted not only to leave her mark but to remake the family entirely, to change its very name and ancestry.”

At this point, a flicker of anger crept into the Elder’s voice.

“She eliminated opposition, attempted to erase generations of painstaking effort, even nearly removed the ancestral tablets themselves. It was this act that awakened the last surviving heirs of the previous head: if things continued, the family’s heritage would inevitably be replaced.”

“Perhaps out of loyalty to the family, or perhaps for their own ambitions, these surviving brothers united to overthrow their mother. They relied not only on their own power within the family but also sought aid from a rival clan. But the outcome was grim. Each brother harbored his own designs—not merely to topple the matriarch but to secure the headship for himself. What ensued was a succession of inhuman massacres...”

The Elder of Wine sighed, his half-closed eyes glistening as if with tears.

At last, the silent Taibao spoke: “Master, perhaps that’s enough for today. You are advanced in years. Why trouble yourself with these old wounds?”

The Elder waved him off, opened his eyes, and looked at the three youths in the hall. His gaze was full of reminiscence, the past flashing through his mind. He shook his head and spoke with emotion.

“Some things do not fade with time. If, in the future, people only know the ‘truth’ from books that have been edited and embellished, it is better that the truth comes from the lips of a dying man.”

Taibao fell silent for a long moment, then sighed.

“Elder, you said the eldest son’s line left a seed behind. Did none of his descendants ever return to the family?” Chu Ge asked respectfully.

Li Fu and Yang Zixu, equally curious, had not dared interrupt the Elder’s tale.

“The seed remained, sheltered by the contingencies the elders left behind. They only waited for the right moment, but some things, if they are yours, will return to you no matter who seizes them. That year, three young men inadvertently uncovered the secret hidden by the elders so long ago. One among them was the descendant of the direct line. By then, peace had reigned in the family for some time, and that descendant had no desire to fight for the headship—having grown up outside the family, that cold, blood-soaked seat held no appeal.”

“But those who knew the truth thought otherwise. Though three generations had passed, some still believed the headship did not belong to the current line. The old scholar’s last wishes were still honored by a few. That hope never died,” the Elder said with a faint smile at Chu Ge.

“Elder, do you think that descendant should have taken the position? If he had no wish for it, why force him?” Li Fu asked quietly after a pause.

“Well asked! No one ever considered the heir’s own will. They simply assumed it his duty to take the seat—never caring if he wanted it or not. In the end, it was either blind loyalty or greed. I pondered this for a long time; the human heart is a mystery,” the Elder replied, his eyes alight with approval at Li Fu’s words.

Indeed, if he was unwilling, why force him into a place so distant from his own life? Was all this effort merely blind loyalty, or was it human greed?

“And what happened then?” Yang Zixu’s three words were the most he had spoken all day.

“After that... the heir was betrayed by those in power. He was too trusting, never realizing that you can’t let someone else sleep soundly beside your pillow. Yet, there remained enough ‘blindly loyal’ souls in the family to preserve his bloodline. With time, the eldest son’s descendants drifted far from the center of power, protected by the descendants of those old loyal guards. Meanwhile, the family’s strife and ambitions continued,” the Elder mused with deep emotion.

The three stared at him—they wondered, was that truly the end?

“Elder, do you think the old scholar acted rightly? Had he not slain his own brothers, would things have come to this?” Li Fu frowned and spoke softly.

“Right or wrong no longer has meaning. Ambition is something no one can truly define,” the Elder said, shaking his head after a moment’s silence, his tone heavy with feeling.

He looked at the three vigorous youths before him, his gaze a blend of unspoken emotion. Then he reached out with his withered hand, gently touched Li Fu’s cheek, and patted Yang Zixu’s shoulder, smiling.

“The gifts I gave you two the other day—were they to your liking?”

“Gifts?”

Li Fu and Yang Zixu exchanged glances, suddenly understanding. Now they knew why, even though Yang Zixu had not ranked among the top three, his reward was greater than that of the third place—this was the Elder’s doing. And this year’s Lantern Festival prizes were truly extraordinary—even the imperial dragon spear of the late Emperor Taizong had been offered as a reward. So it was the Elder’s arrangement.

“But why bestow such precious treasures upon us?” Yang Zixu asked, puzzled.

“The current state of the Great Tang is far worse than you imagine. I hope that one day you will safeguard this legacy of eight centuries. I see more clearly than you the dangers in court, but it’s not only internal threats—there are the frontiers as well… The northern tribes, the kingdom of Northern Yan, all covet the Great Tang. If ever the imperial authority collapses, I hope that the Heavenly Strategy, founded by Taizong himself, can still protect the people of the Tang,” the Elder said, his voice filled with concern.