Xie Lian wanted to chase after him, but he knew that it wouldn’t be of any use.
He halted, standing still, with nothing to say. Hua Cheng approached him.
“He just found out the truth, so it’d be better to leave him alone to cool down.”
Xie Lian was completely stunned. “Why must he know the truth? Was the truth that important?”
“Very important,” Hua Cheng replied. “He needed to know what you did and what you didn’t do, and why you had to do it.”
Xie Lian turned away and said coldly, “What’s the use of knowing everything so clearly? Would I be any more blameless if I killed fewer people? Would things be less hard?!”
Hua Cheng didn’t respond.
A blaze of anger flared from Xie Lian’s chest, and he didn’t even know who it was directed at. He blurted, “And what nonsense hardships have I experienced? His Majesty the king had wanted to integrate the two clans; did I not kill him? Prince An Le was the last of my family’s bloodline; did I not kill him? I deserve whatever comes to me—is it so wrong to count everything as my doing? What’s there to be afraid of? No matter what comes at me, I can’t die! I did this. I bring misfortune. And now Prince An Le is counted, Qi Rong is counted, everyone in Xianle is counted. Isn’t it better to hate one instead of a group? Must he think that everything I taught him was false, nothing more than empty bullshit?!”
Hua Cheng watched him quietly and didn’t argue. The two stared at each other, and suddenly Xie Lian covered his face with his hands.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, San Lang. I’ve gone mad. I’m sorry.”
“It’s nothing. It’s my fault,” Hua Cheng said.
“No, it’s not your fault. This is my problem.” Xie Lian slumped to the ground, holding his head. “What a mess. What a disastrous mess.”
After a moment, Hua Cheng sat down next to him. “You weren’t wrong.”
Xie Lian kept holding his head and said nothing.
Hua Cheng continued, “The Yong’an king was killed to protect the remaining people of Xianle. Prince An Le was killed to prevent the two clans from fighting. In the end, in dying at the hands of Lang Qianqiu, the murderer faced justice. Three lives exchanged for centuries of peace, that’s worth it. If it were me, I would’ve done the same. Listen to me.”
His voice was full of conviction, leaving no room for doubt.
“You weren’t wrong. No one could’ve done it better than you.”
Xie Lian was quiet. After some time, he finally said, “I just don’t think it’s right.”
He slowly looked up.
“I just don’t think it’s right for someone to have been kind but still meet a bad end. I don’t think it should have ended up this way.
“Even if it was a lie, I wanted Qianqiu to remember that his benevolence toward Xianle was reciprocated. To believe that doing the right thing will open endless paths. Not like now, where he thinks everything I told him and everything he believed in was all false, lies, and deception. That everything was fucking nonsense! I just…”
He raised his right hand and stared at it.
“…I don’t want to see anyone go through what I’ve already had enough of.”
Hua Cheng listened quietly. Xie Lian felt self-conscious about the vulgar words he’d uttered and apologized again.
“I’m sorry. But look how absurd things are in this world. The first few generations of Yong’an rule were filled with violence and cruelty, but no one died tragically. But when it came to Lang Qianqiu’s parents, all they wanted was to do some good, to do something great, but it ended like this.”
The king of Yong’an honored him as the State Preceptor and treated him with the utmost respect for five years. Even at the end of his life, he passed on without any sign that that trust had dispersed. Xie Lian stared far into the distance, his eyes unfocused.
He whispered, “I just can’t forget…the look on his face when my sword pierced him.”
Hua Cheng said softly, “Forget about it. That was Qi Rong and Prince An Le’s fault.”
Xie Lian shook his head and buried it between his knees, his voice exhausted. “…Everything was going so well too.”
When Lang Qianqiu’s father ascended the throne, his very first decree was to break the culture of oppressing the people of Xianle. The people of Xianle and the people of Yong’an finally experienced peace between them for the first time; there were finally winds of change, finally signs of integration, finally hopes that they could leave the conflict behind. And Prince An Le had to pick that time to paint the Gilded Banquet with blood.