Chapter 65: Two Opposing Sides
It was already winter. The warm sun outside the window was just right, and the stove inside the room was cozy, yet it was utterly silent. Fang Jian and Gao Yunqu sat opposite each other across a tea table, both silent. Gao Yunqu quietly poured water and whisked the tea. In a short while, a cup of tea was placed before Fang Jian. Fang Jian accepted it respectfully and sipped it in small mouthfuls. Gao Yunqu then went to prepare a second cup. Fang Jian reached out to take the teapot from her, but was gently brushed aside. Fang Jian withdrew her hand. As Gao Yunqu did not speak, she dared not open her mouth either. For a time, the only sounds in the room were that of flowing water and the tea whisk. Fang Jian's hands were hidden in her sleeves, her thumb unconsciously picking at her index fingernail, revealing a certain anxiety.
Gao Yunqu's hands never stopped. She lifted her eyes to glance at her and finally spoke, "Jiang Changyun, the heir to the Marquis of Qingcheng, was sentenced to three years of penal servitude and eighty lashes? Commuted to one year of penal servitude by paying a fine?"
Fang Jian let out a turbid breath, set down her teacup, and replied, "Yes."
"With a clear conscience?"
"...Yes," Fang Jian answered through gritted teeth, the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears. She had not condemned Jiang Changyun to death, but she could not be considered blameless either.
"Good." But Gao Yunqu did not press further.
Fang Jian felt restless again. Over the years, Gao Yunqu had become increasingly inscrutable, and she found it hard to understand her. Sometimes, she even felt it was better back when she would be punished, for at least then Gao Yunqu would clearly tell her whether she was right or wrong.
Do you think I did the right thing?
Why are you distancing yourself from me? Why won't you guide me anymore?
Is it because I've strayed from your expectations?
Gao Yunqu gave her no response, and she could find no answers on Gao Yunqu's face.
She felt as if she had been abandoned alone on a dark road, unable to see the path ahead, with nothing to lean on. She was the only one in the world, fumbling forward in the dark. Loneliness, doubt, anxiety—she was constantly questioning her own heart. Is this right? Am I wrong? She did not know. She silently pleaded with Gao Yunqu for help, but Gao Yunqu ignored her. She was like a wretched little puppy, its fur soaked and messy, begging for pity with its wet eyes, only to receive no response.
Over and over, time and again, Fang Jian's heart was shattered into pieces. Apprehension, disappointment, doubt, fear, unease, along with some vexation and resentment, all piled up together, like dark clouds obscuring the sun, blinding her eyes.
But Gao Yunqu was not as cold and resolute as Fang Jian thought. She, too, was hesitating. According to her own principles, Fang Jian truly should not have dirtied her hands for such a person. But no one knew better than her how obsessed Fang Jian was with this matter, and the source of it was none other than her own use of Jiang Changyun as bait to spur Fang Jian onward. What right did she have to reprimand Fang Jian for acting out of personal interest?
"A'yuan, was I wrong?" she asked wearily, rubbing her forehead.
"The young lady is who she is today because of you. How could that be wrong?" Gao Yuan replied.
"I forced her to make her own choices, yet I selfishly hoped she would choose the clean, pure path. But now, I can no longer see clearly where she is ultimately headed."
"My lady, one reaps what one sows. It is for the young lady to bear the consequences of her own choices. Forgive my bluntness, but you are not a fortune-teller. You cannot possibly predict all the honors and disgraces of her entire life." Gao Yuan also frowned. As an observer, she saw things clearly, unlike Gao Yunqu, who was plagued by worries of personal gain and loss.
Gao Yunqu did not reply. She had never believed in ghosts or gods, but at this moment, she clearly felt the hand of fate at play, as if a pair of hands were manipulating them. Was Fang Jian's karma not also her, Gao Yunqu's, karma?
The indescribable bond between her and Fang Jian had become a tangled mess of thread—impossible to sort out, yet she was unwilling to cut it. There was no telling when it might tighten and leave deep scars on her body. Gao Yunqu felt a surge of anxiety. All the hesitation, wavering, and unease of her life had been spent on Fang Jian. Unable to figure it out or think it through, she could only set it aside for the time being.
They avoided each other by tacit agreement, but clashes in the imperial court were unavoidable.
At the end of the fifteenth year of Yongxing, the struggle over the New Policies dragged both the new and old factions from beneath the water to the surface. Fang Jian was the sharpest sword of the Reformist Faction after Gao Yunqu. She and her young colleagues insisted on their radical proposals, believing it was the best time to purge the old powers. She had tried her best to avoid Gao Yunqu, but Gao Yunqu insisted on maneuvering with the Conservative Faction, almost deliberately throwing herself onto the edge of Fang Jian's blade.
The more clearly Fang Jian saw, the more furious she became. She looked at Gao Yunqu's figure, her eyes practically spitting fire—What are you doing! What on earth is worth you expending yourself like this? Can't you cherish yourself even a little? To let my hands be stained with your blood, what do you take me for? And what do you take yourself for?
She had once watched Gao Yunqu's back from afar, taking step after step toward her. But when she could finally touch the hem of Gao Yunqu's robe, Gao Yunqu was standing opposite her.
Fang Jian tightened her grip on the tablet in her hand. That person's voice drifted, now near, now far. The same elegant prose, the same sharp tongue. In their verbal clashes, blades flashed and shadows danced, danger lurking everywhere. In her early years, Gao Yunqu had been nicknamed the Tiger of the Imperial Hall, and Fang Jian was Gao Yunqu's most outstanding student. When they stood in the great hall, it was a battle between two fierce beasts. The court officials were astonished by the brilliance of their debate, and the world-shocking phrases from their mouths were passed down in stories. No one knew they were the closest of teacher and student, and still less did anyone know what turbulent waves surged beneath their calm faces.
Seven years. Fang Jian had finally walked from Gao Yunqu's palm to stand before her. But this position was wrong. What she wanted was a place by Gao Yunqu's side, to be Gao Yunqu's support, to become someone Gao Yunqu could stand back-to-back with. But Gao Yunqu had refused her, had pushed her away.
Fang Jian screamed and roared in her heart, fury surging within her, which ultimately turned into rebuttals and attacks that left her lips. She was enraged by Gao Yunqu's self-disregard, enraged by her calm expression, enraged by her incisive critiques. She was like a cat with its fur on end, baring its teeth at its dearest loved one to show its displeasure. And in matters of state, this displeasure transformed entirely into defiant, sharp opposition. When court was dismissed, her expression was unhappy, and she avoided Gao Yunqu. To outsiders, she seemed quite arrogant, while Gao Yunqu simply smiled it off, as if looking at an unruly child. After a few rounds of this, everyone in the court came to believe their relationship was poor. Even Dai Yao and Cui Miao came to ask them about it.
Gao Yunqu smiled bitterly. "She's probably angry with me."
But Fang Jian, in front of Cui Miao, was so aggrieved she shed tears. "I'm not in her heart, nor is she herself. There's nothing. She would abandon everything to become that torch, probably not considering her cultivation complete until she's turned to ash. But does she think the people around her are unfeeling plants and stones?
"I don't ask her to be good to me, I only wish she would be better to herself. She is a gentleman of noble character, why must she soil her own robes to become a weapon for others?"
The new year of Yongxing's sixteenth year, they spent it in their respective residences. This was the first time since they had met. Though only a few streets apart, neither made a gesture of goodwill toward the other, as if they were truly as irreconcilable as they appeared in court.
Whether drowning sorrows in wine or languishing in self-inflicted misery, no one would know once the gates of their manors were closed. The New Year's fireworks exploded. The sky above every residence was equally brilliant. Separated by many doors, they looked up at the night sky at the same moment. The sparks reflected in their eyes. They could not see each other, but their hearts were more alike than ever before.
May my beloved be well.
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