Chapter 49: Memories (Childhood)

"Putting aside what happened back at the Xie estate and in the capital, just looking at the journey of exile and the days we've spent together here in Lianshui Village, what kind of person do you think Xie Yanzhi is?"

Cheng Yuan had only a guess in her mind, so she kept her gaze fixed on Xie Changzhi's face.

Seeming to drift back into memory, Xie Changzhi wore a slightly dazed look.

Cheng Yuan was not in a hurry. As she turned her plans for the past two days over in her mind, about the time it took to burn a stick of incense passed before Xie Changzhi spoke, his voice carrying a hoarse edge.

"Along the exile road, although he was spoiled and arrogant, he never subjected me to any bullying, except for..."

Seeing Xie Changzhi's expression turn peculiar, Cheng Yuan curiously pursued, "Except for what?"

"Except for stealing my food."

Seeming to recall those days when he had to survive on just two black steamed buns a day only to have one snatched away by Xie Yanzhi, Xie Changzhi wore an expression that could only be described as colorful.

Cheng Yuan fell silent as well. Even with all her imagination, she would never have guessed such an answer.

Connecting this to Xie Yanzhi's every move when she cooked, his eyes practically glued to the ingredients, she could not help finding it somewhat amusing.

Xie Changzhi opened his mouth and continued, "In truth, back at the Xie estate, I rarely saw him either."

Ever since he took on a master at the age of eight, Xie Changzhi spent his days year-round practicing martial arts in his tiny, dilapidated courtyard. It was martial arts, martial arts, and more martial arts, or sneaking over the wall to scavenge for food.

As for Xie Yanzhi, being the darling of the upper capital, his days naturally consisted of listening to his tutors or attending various poetry banquets outside.

In short, the most interaction the two of them had ever had was during their childhood.

Xie Yanzhi remembered it clearly. It was a rainy night when he had fallen ill with a high fever, but he had no silver to buy medicine. In his delirium, he had practically seen his deceased mother.

At that time, there was still an old nanny left behind by his mother. Naturally, no physician from the manor could be summoned to his miserable little courtyard, so the nanny, in her desperation, went to the study to beg his father.

Not long after the nanny left, Xie Changzhi struggled to his feet, wanting to wait by the door.

Hearing footsteps approach, he originally thought the nanny had returned. In his overwhelming joy, he stumbled and fell to the floor by the bed, only to look up and see a face even younger than his own, bearing an expression of haughtiness and pride.

"You're the one, right? My paternal half-brother, Xie Changzhi?"

That was the first time he saw Xie Yanzhi, a child who looked like a delicately carved doll of jade and powder, dressed in magnificent robes, followed by a train of bowing and scraping servants.

With his chin tilted toward the sky, Xie Yanzhi tossed a few packets of medicine onto his face. Catching the whiff of some unpleasant odor, he covered his nose. "Cook this and eat it yourself. Don't die in the Xie estate and dirty my house!"

Xie Changzhi did not answer him. Xie Yanzhi could not bear such a ruined courtyard with cold drafts leaking from every side, and after throwing out a few more taunts, he turned and marched away with his grand entourage.

That day, Xie Changzhi waited for a very long time, but the nanny never returned.

Even as a small child, he already understood the permanence of death.

Yet he was unwilling to accept reality.

What followed, however, was that the three meals guaranteed to keep him alive were delivered on time every single day. Even the courtyard was swept anew. Though it remained dilapidated, he now had warm bedding and would no longer fall ill from the cold or trouble the nanny.

He wondered if his father had remembered him once more. Even if his father would never treat him as a proper son, he would continue to look up to him.

Yet the nanny never appeared again.

Until one day, when he overheard some servants chatting lazily while shirking their duties.

"If you ask me, the eldest young master in that courtyard is truly the most wretched. Born and condemned by a Daoist priest as a curse to his father, his mother died early, and the stepmother married in and immediately bore a young master. Now even the only nanny who cared for him died begging for his medicine, and he is still completely in the dark."

"Shh, keep your voice down! Don't let anyone else hear you. Just two days ago, I saw two maidservants who entered at the same time we did—simply because the master overheard them gossiping idly about the masters, they were beaten to death on the spot with cudgels! As servants, we just need to do our part and stay out of the masters' business."

Before Xie Changzhi's mind could even process the words, a wave of dizziness washed over him, and he could no longer hear anything at all.

The nanny—the nanny was truly dead, having died to beg for medicine for him!

He was cursed to kill his father! Cursed to kill his mother! And he had even cursed to death the only person in the world who was good to him!

The Daoist priest had been right after all; he was a jinx, a harbinger of misfortune...

The two maidservants had already spotted him. After offering a perfunctory salute, they hurried away. Xie Changzhi remained standing in the wind for a long, long time.

Perhaps the biting wind cleared his head, and suddenly many things connected in his mind.

Why had Xie Yanzhi been the one to deliver the medicine when the nanny went to beg for it? Why had his food, clothing, and shelter in the manor improved so much after that day? Why had his father beaten the gossiping maids to death?

All of this was merely belated guilt and compensation!

From that day on, Xie Changzhi and Xie Yanzhi were sworn enemies.

Xie Yanzhi was playful, disliked studying, and would often run into his courtyard. Seeing Xie Changzhi planting cabbages in the dirt, he would burst into loud, mocking laughter.

Xie Changzhi remained sullen and silent, but possessing supernatural strength, he would tackle the young lord and pin him down, beating him soundly to vent his frustration.

The little noble lord would cry and curse in rage, yet the very next time, he would appear at the door to mock him once more.

Sometimes he brought his companions, all of them draped in gold and silver, looking like little immortal youths seated beside a Buddha.

By contrast, Xie Changzhi looked like a beggar from the slums.

"Yanzhi, is this your brother?"

"Of course not! He's a curse to his parents, I want nothing to do with him! I am the legitimate eldest son of the Xie family, while he is nothing more than a lowly concubine's son. Look at his wretched, impoverished state! He probably hasn't even tasted a candied hawthorn!"

"Hey! Little beggar! A reward for you!"

Smiling brightly, Xie Yanzhi tossed a candied hawthorn—with only half a hawthorn bitten off—straight at Xie Changzhi, and then, seemingly terrified of being beaten up and humiliated in return, he bolted away with his friends in a flash.

At that moment, Xie Changzhi was drawing water from the well. It was winter, and the water was frozen; it only thawed for a brief while at noon when the sun came out, so he had to rush to fill the water vat.

Startled by the incoming candied hawthorn, he dodged, his foot slipped, and half a bucket of water spilled all over him, washing away the mud from the hem of his robe and the liquid from his face.

He lay sprawled on the ground, waiting for the pain in his knees to subside. Only when it hurt a little less did he reach out, grab the candied hawthorn, and push himself up.

The candied hawthorn had been rinsed by the well water, making it look even more crystal clear.

Xie Changzhi stared at the red fruit with cautious suspicion. He had never seen one before, but he knew the outer layer was coated in sugar.

It had been a very long time since he had tasted anything sweet.

Xie Changzhi kept his small face rigid. Reason told him he should not accept this food of humiliation; perhaps the brat was hiding somewhere, waiting to watch him eat it so he could laugh at him all over again.

Yet, as the sweet sugar coating and the tart, fresh fruit flavor filled his mouth, he went wild, swallowing the remaining few pieces almost in one crunching gulp.

The frozen-hard sugar coating left only sharp, knife-like sensations behind.