History

Did "imperial throne" refer to the seat of the Heavenly Emperor? And was the Sovereign of Humanity an earthly monarch? Ding Songyan was suddenly seized by immense curiosity about the volume in his hands. Upon hearing his earlier answer, Ding Qingyan looked enlightened. "There's really no need to be in such a rush, Second Brother. Rest a few more days before worrying about all that." "Reading is also a form of rest," Ding Songyan replied, never at a loss for words. Ding Qingyan did not press the matter further. She walked behind the folding screen and brought out books, paper, brushes, an inkstone, and inksticks. "I'm going to practice my calligraphy," she said in a lively tone, turning toward the main room. Ding Songyan waved a hand and focused on the storybook in his grip. The work was written very concisely. For high antiquity, it mentioned only that Emperor Zhuanxu succeeded to the imperial throne and commanded Chong and Li to sever Earth from Heaven. Afterward, the Heavenly Emperor still walked the mortal realm while simultaneously serving as Sovereign of Humanity—first Tang Yao, then Yu Shun, then Xia Yu. Once Xiahou Qi became Sovereign of Humanity, no further legends of the Heavenly Emperor appearing in the world were recorded. "According to the annotations in The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas, wasn't Emperor Zhuanxu the Northern Emperor—the Black Emperor of the North? Even though he was one of the Five Directional Emperors, he certainly wasn't the supreme one. Why do these storybooks all place him as the Heavenly Emperor after the Yellow Emperor and before Tang Yao? To people of the present world without inherited lineages, ancient history is indeed difficult to verify. But surely a momentous event like the severing of Earth from Heaven wouldn't have the wrong figure credited for leading it? And all the accounts agree on this... If not the Heavenly Emperor, who else could possibly have overseen the severing of Earth from Heaven?" Ding Songyan quickly leafed through the other volumes. After pondering for a long while, he made an uncertain guess: "The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas is said to have been transcribed from The Sovereign's Annotated Classic of Mountains and Seas, and it is held in such high regard by the major sects. It's unlikely to be mistaken on this matter. "Could it be that 'Heavenly Emperor' isn't an unbroken bloodline or inheritance, but a title and position—that whoever harmonizes with the Great Dao can assume it? "Or perhaps the lineage and the throne can be separated? Even with the proper lineage, one cannot become the Heavenly Emperor without reaching the requisite realm, leaving it to whichever among the Black, Azure, Flame, or White Emperors has harmonized with the Great Dao to concurrently hold the office until someone within the rightful lineage attains that realm and takes over? "Even after Earth was severed from Heaven, the Heavenly Emperor continued to govern the mortal world. Only when Qi founded the Xia dynasty did he suddenly vanish from sight. What secret lies behind that?" Ding Songyan could not puzzle it out, nor did he dwell on it. What did the esoteric secrets of the mythic age have to do with an ordinary storyteller like him? There was no need to waste time. He continued scanning the subsequent text: "The Xia waned after a millennium; Youqiong replaced the Xia and held the realm for six hundred years..." According to this historical storytelling book, the Xia dynasty endured for an entire thousand years—vastly longer-lived than the Xia dynasty of his previous life's memories. That was the first discrepancy. Furthermore, the dynasty that replaced the Xia was not the Shang of the Black Bird, but a tribe called Youqiong. Its reign lasted over six hundred years, though the final two centuries saw the rise of rival feudatories. Ding Songyan simply mapped that in his mind to the Spring and Autumn period for convenience. After the fall of the Youqiong dynasty, rival warlords contended for supremacy for a little over four hundred years. During this era, the Hundred Schools of Thought contended. A sage named Zuo had established legal reforms through military stratagems in his youth, propagated Confucian rites in his middle years, and founded Daoism in his old age to expound on virtue and the Dao. The era of warring warlords was brought to an end by the State of Ying. After unifying the realm and subjugating the myriad tribes, it adopted "Qin" as its dynastic title, and its monarch styled himself the First Emperor. Qin prospered for over two hundred years before giving way to Han. The Han also lasted eight hundred years and likewise transitioned into the Three Kingdoms. Afterward, there was Wei but no Jin. Wei lasted under three hundred years before the realm descended into chaos, and this dynasty's founding emperor embarked upon the path of unifying all under heaven from his position as the Marquis of Zhao. "Qin excelled in rhapsodies, Han was renowned for poetry, and Wei flourished in lyrics? This..." Ding Songyan felt his mind reeling. All of the history appeared superficially familiar yet subtly wrong. So many elements were recognizable, yet they had been combined in bizarre ways, evoking the poetic feeling of "Zhuangzi in the morning dream bewildered by butterflies." Forcing his turbulent emotions to settle, he calmly searched for potentially useful information and underlying patterns. "Quite a few dynasties are missing, and several new ones have been added. Yet the ones I recognize—Xia, Qin, Han, and Wei—follow the correct chronological sequence... "The respective flourishing of rhapsodies, poetry, and lyrics also aligns with the correct historical timeline; they simply didn't take place under the dynasties I remember... "To describe it in a single word, that would be..." Ding Songyan's brow furrowed slightly. Displacement! A displaced time and space? Having finished flipping through the storybooks and gained a general grasp of this world's history, he gathered the four treasures of the study, stepped out of the western wing, and sat down opposite Ding Qingyan. Smoothing out a sheet of paper, he awkwardly attempted to grind ink. Ding Qingyan, who had been absorbed in practicing her calligraphy, glanced up at him and pushed her inkstone toward the center of the table. "Use mine for now." "Alright." Ding Songyan readily complied. He had only practiced brush calligraphy for two or three years in his childhood. While his posture was passable, once the brush touched paper, his execution was as clumsy as could be, and the characters he produced were thoroughly unsightly. Worst of all, he could only write simplified characters. For quite a few of them, his mind went blank the moment he lifted the brush; he planned to leave those blank for now and consult Ding Qingyan all at once at the end. "Second Brother, what kind of script are you writing?" Ding Qingyan craned her jade-white neck to peer at the characters on the page across from her. Ding Songyan replied with utter composure: "Haven't I lost most of my memories? I've forgotten many characters too, so I can only write them in simplified forms. I'll need to ask you about some of them later." See? Choosing "honesty" from the start had indeed been the wisest course. There was no need to rack his brains inventing various excuses; a casual brush-off could resolve most problems. "You've even forgotten how to write..." Ding Qingyan set down her brush, rose, and moved behind Ding Songyan. After examining the page for a moment, she murmured with a trace of heartache, "Some of these characters were used by the ancients, so they can still be recognized... Second Brother, what are you writing?" "Inspiration struck me last night. I want to write a storybook about a romance between an immortal demon and a mortal," Ding Songyan explained after a moment of thought. "Once I finish it all, help me make a clean copy. I'll take it to the storytellers' guild to see what price it can fetch. When the time comes, I'll give you a share to help build up your dowry fund." Ding Qingyan's eyes instantly lit up. "Wonderful, wonderful!" At the mention of money, she remembered something. "Second Brother, did you buy the gift for Qu Sanlang for me?" "..." Ding Songyan fell silent for a heartbeat. "I forgot." "It's fine, it's fine. When I go out with Father or Mother this evening to buy food, I'll look along the way, or tomorrow will do just as well." Ding Qingyan waved her hand with a bright smile, sat back down in her seat, and resumed practicing her calligraphy. She wrote a beautiful hairpin small regular script. Ding Songyan lowered his head and immersed his mind in composing The Legend of the White Snake. This section needed to progress from the narrative beat he remembered—Xu Xian and Lady White Snake opening an apothecary—up to the Dragon Boat Festival, where realgar wine forced the white snake to reveal her true form, scaring Xu Xian to death. As for the specific plot points in between, he had long since forgotten them and would have to invent them himself. His guiding principle was to explore the clash between the snake demons' identities and mortal society, highlighting the unique essence of the tale. Thus, Lady White Snake first used magic to induce minor ailments, boosting the apothecary's business. Yet she was soon moved and inspired by Xu Xian's heartfelt compassion and devotion to his patients, neighbors, and the impoverished, gradually developing a "human heart." Next, Xiaoqing punished a frivolous rogue, setting off a chain of events that allowed the innocent, undisciplined snake demon to slowly understand the meaning of love and appreciate the bond between her elder sister and Xu Xian. Finally, the two demons relied on their magical abilities to resolve troubles and right wrongs for Xu Xian's kin, their neighbors, and the downtrodden. This part was designed primarily to be gratifying while showcasing the characters' growth and transformations. Ding Songyan found the process thoroughly satisfying and was nearly tempted to add several more installments. However, reason held him back. He also trimmed away most of the domestic squabbles and legal entanglements involving Xu Xian's relatives that could otherwise have been expanded upon, since the girl in the white skirt was not a local of Dingjiang Prefecture and would not remain here long. Under such circumstances, an overly brief story would fail to foster a connection and earn goodwill, whereas an overly long one would prevent her from hearing the finest parts and forming a deep impression before she departed. By the time he finished writing, the sun was already slanting toward the west. Ding Songyan transferred the brush to his left hand and shook out his right wrist. Just writing a rough outline took this much time... As he reviewed the pages waiting for the ink to dry, he pondered writing down the song "Bai Suzhen Beneath Mount Qingcheng." He reasoned that since the girl in the white skirt was quite young, her receptiveness to novel things should be fairly high; she was unlikely to reject such an "unusual" tune. And the more unusual it was, the deeper the impression it would leave, ensuring she would remember a man named Ding Erlang. That was one reason. Beyond that, Ding Songyan felt that introducing and singing this song at specific narrative climaxes—such as when Lady White Snake was gripped by intense emotion or profound sentiment—would serve as the crowning touch. Fortunately, the lyrics to this song were simple, and because many people had covered it later on, he had heard it quite often. Ding Songyan quickly finished writing out the words, filling in the very few lines he could not clearly recall with his own attempts. "Second Brother, Xu Xian just dies like that?" Taking advantage of the opportunity while waiting for the ink to dry and stacking the sheets, Ding Qingyan read through the outline-like pages and found herself thoroughly enthralled. Ding Songyan grunted an affirmation. "That's right." "Then... then what can be done? What happens next?" Ding Qingyan's eyes went wide. "Next?" Ding Songyan glanced at his sister. "There is no next." "..." Ding Qingyan blinked in a daze, then realized her brother was teasing her and began to grumble in protest. Only then did Ding Songyan say: "In the next installment, Lady White Snake steals an immortal herb to revive Xu Xian." If the "primary audience" responded favorably, he could even add an episode where Lady White Snake stormed the Netherworld and snatched Xu Xian's soul right in front of Meng Po. "An immortal herb? Oh, the elixir of immortality!" Ding Qingyan's expression visibly relaxed. Right, by the folk customs of this world, the elixir of immortality is easier to understand than "immortal herb"... Ding Songyan had barely formed the thought when the half-closed door was pushed open. Liu Yuzao, wearing a black gauze veil, stepped inside. "Mother! Second Brother's trouble is all resolved!" Still retaining a bit of childlike innocence, Ding Qingyan bounded forward to welcome her. "Is that so?" Liu Yuzao lifted her veil and turned her gaze toward Ding Songyan. Ding Songyan gave a broad summary of what he had told his sister earlier, making no mention of The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas or its true provider. Liu Yuzao's expression gradually softened; though faint, a glimmer of delight showed on her face. She murmured an acknowledgment and said: "If you have time tomorrow, make a trip to Zhen Manor. Your cousin Nuansheng helped immensely, and there is Mr. Yu as well. You must thank them in person; our family cannot be lacking in etiquette." Once Ding Songyan agreed, Ding Qingyan was already tugging at Liu Yuzao's sleeve, coaxing: "Mother, let's celebrate today, shall we?" Liu Yuzao nodded gently. "Then I'll head out to the street to buy some food. What would you two like?" "Anything is fine with me," Ding Songyan said, still unfamiliar with the local delicacies, merely adding, "As long as there's meat." "Crispy duck from Shaoyao Residence!" Ding Qingyan blurted out. "Mother, I'll come with you! It's the perfect chance to buy the gift for Qu Sanlang too." Liu Yuzao raised no objection. Mother and daughter donned their veils, picked up food baskets, and headed out the door. By dusk, several dishes were arranged upon the square table of the Ding household: crispy roasted duck, sliced poached chicken, red-braised mutton, steamed eggplant, a cold tossed lettuce salad, several toasted sesame flatbreads, a wooden bucket of steamed rice, and a tub of sweet bean soup served as a chilled refreshment. "Shall we have a bit of wine today?" Ding Shengyi directed his gaze toward his wife. Liu Yuzao nodded. Delight immediately surfaced on Ding Shengyi's brow. He fetched a small jar of wine and turned to Ding Songyan: "The 'Rose Dew' the yamen handed out during the New Year festival. Do you... do you boys want a bowl?" "You boys" meant Ding Songyan and Ding Daniu. Before Ding Shengyi's words had fully settled, Liu Yuzao cast him a quiet glance, and he promptly snapped his mouth shut in awkward silence. "Pour me a bowl," Liu Yuzao said, withdrawing her gaze. "Right away, right away!" Ding Shengyi chuckled, patted open the wine seal, and poured a bowl for himself and another for his wife. Smelling the drifting wine fragrance, Ding Daniu's Adam's apple bobbed, but he did not dare ask for any. Once Ding Songyan had poured bowls of chilled sweet bean soup for his brother, his sister, and himself, Ding Shengyi raised his wine bowl, looked around the table, and declared in high spirits: "May our family see misfortune peak and fortune turn, with good luck following hard on calamity's heels!" Ding Songyan, Liu Yuzao, and the others picked up their respective "wine bowls" and clinked them together with smiles that ranged from radiant to reserved. Amid the echoing clatter, their lively voices rang out in unison: "Misfortune peaks and fortune turns, with good luck following hard on calamity's heels!"