imperceptibility

[imperceptibility]

清和 (Qinghe) -- by 来自远方 (Lai Zi Yuan Fang) -- ch. 4

~

Author → here

JJWXC → here

Disclaimer & summary → here

Translated by me

Index of characters → here

⯇ Chapter 3

~

Meng Guangxiao fainted at Qinghe’s house, his life not in danger but his unconsciousness persistent.

At dusk, his two sons finally came knocking. With Ming Qinghai at the front and Meng Qingjiang behind him, both brothers’ faces were full of anxiety when they saw their father unconscious. Meng Qinghai could still control himself, leaning down to examine his father’s condition (though his expression shifted subtly in an instant when he did so). Meng Qingjiang was more simple-minded. With wide glaring eyes, he swung his fist, intending to beat Qinghe’s face in.

Meng Qingjiang had incredible strength. His fist, formed from a hand habituated to farm work, flew through the air. Qinghe could feel the whoosh of air as it passed by his nose, a hair’s width away.

Qinghe was in the middle of offering his ‘apologies’ and sincerely reflecting upon his ‘mistakes’. Unexpectedly, a fist came right for his face so he hurriedly backed up two steps. Although he had no intentions of pursuing the imperial examinations, he still had to protect his face. With this era’s level of medical care, it was no small matter to have his nose bridge broken. Tetanus and all that aside, what was he going to do with a crooked nose? Even if he were not looking to shack up with a wife, he could not become disfigured.

“Silang[1],” Meng Qinghai called out in a low voice, “Cease this at once!”

“Dage[2]!”

Meng Qingjiang’s eyes were red. Since he was young, he did not like to study and he was not as smart, instead obeying all the instructions of his father and older brother. Now that Meng Qinghai had told him to stop, no matter how unwilling, he lowered his fist.

Qinghe had the look of someone who had been wronged but could not argue back. There was even a touch of stubbornness to his expression. Putting the unconscious Meng Guangxiao aside, without knowing what happened, any bystander would probably think Meng Qinghai and his brother were bullying Qinghe.

Meng Qingjiang grew even angrier. Meng Qinghai also pressed his lips tightly together. Qinghe was still immersed in ‘feeling wronged’ by them, but in his mind, he had other machinations.

According his impressions, Meng Qingjiang had a one-track mind. The way he spoke and acted was completely different from his older brother and father. To put it nicely, he was frank and hot-headed; to put it not so nicely, he was missing a screw or three.

The only good thing about him was that he was nice to look at.

Tall, muscular all over, with strong defined facial features and a clear and resonant voice. This sort of stature and appearance had Qinghe envious. If he had been (re)born into this body, he would not need to miss his 21st century six-pack.

But alas, the heavens liked playing with people. There were no absolutes. One could not have everything to one’s liking.

Comparing Meng silang’s body and Meng shi’erlang’s brain, he would still rather choose the latter.

Unlike Meng Qingjiang, Meng Qinghai had the gentle looks of an intellectual.

Medium build, dressed in rushan, not a hair out of place. He had upright features and clear eyes, giving off a scholarly aura with his actions. If Qinghe did not have the memories in his head, he would have had a pretty good impression of Meng Qinghai.

Too bad there were no ifs.

“Shi’erlang, why is my father like this?” Meng Qinghai looked at Qinghe and his face full of innocence. “If you cannot give me a satisfactory explanation, then I will have to ask the village head and the elders to judge this.”

The Ming Dynasty placed great value on the teachings of the Six Lun[3], the first and foremost of value, ‘being filial to one’s parents and respectful to one’s elders’. Not being filial and respectful was often looked upon as disgraceful.

Meng Guangxiao was Qinghe’s tangbo. On top of that, Meng Guangxiao was the head of the clan. Should the accusation of Qinghe being disrespectful to his elder stick, the best case scenario would be him getting reprimanded. The worst, he would be dragged to the ancestral hall and receive a caning. Should that happen, the rumors of Meng Guangxiao abusing his authority to bully Qinghe and Qinge being pushed into a dead end would be nothing in comparison.

In the past, Meng Qinghai would not have been so direct. However, the exams were coming up and gossip was still swirling at school. He might not be as calm and composed as he was appearing to be.

So what if he had the favor of an assistant teacher? Scholars placed heavy value on reputations. As soon as one’s reputation was stained, even if it were the fault of a family member, there was no way of ever washing the stain away.

Qinghe did not speak. Meng Qinghai was about to press again when Meng-Wang-shi suddenly walked out from the inner room, sobbing aloud before she even got close.

“Dalang, do not blame my son! What great misfortunes have befallen him!”

Meng Guangxiao was Qinghe’s elder. Likewise, Meng-Wang-shi was Meng Qinghai and Meng Qingjiang’s elder. She was also a widow. With her present, Meng Qinghai could not continue with his interrogation.

Meng-Wang-shi repeatedly spoke of their misfortunes and her dead husband, peppering those laments with mentions of her two dead sons. Her two daughters-in-law, who were trying to console her, also hid their faces and cried.

They filled the house with the sound of weeping. No passerby could hear it without casting a sidelong glance.

As it turned out, the only one with any medical knowledge in the Meng Village, Meng Chongjiu, was invited over by Meng jiulang’s oldest daughter and just happened to catch sight of this scene.

Looking at Meng Guangxiao, who was lying down, and then looking at Meng-Wang-shi and her daughters-in-law, who were crying their hearts out, he almost came to the conclusion that following Meng laoliu, Meng laoda’s[4] family was going to need a funeral soon too.

“What has happened?”

“Jiushugong.”

Qinghe, Qinghai, and Qingjiang greeted the man together. Qinghe was dressed in hemp, his face wan. Before Meng Qinghai and Meng Qingjiang could open their mouths, he said: “Jiushugong, it is all my fault.”

“Oh?”

While he placed his fingers upon Meng Guangxiao’s wrist, he looked at the three young men standing in the room.

“Datangbo does not want me to enlist. His intentions are good and I am grateful, but there is no way I can obey him! The murders of my father and brothers are unforgivable; how can I not avenge them? My words were rather impassioned, and so...” As he spoke, Qinghe’s eyes moistened. “Shugong, if something were to happen to datangbo, I will take the punishment!”

On the surface, there was nothing wrong with this statement. Indeed, it would inspire in others admiration for his sincerity.

But when one thought about it more carefully, that was not the case at all.

Meng Guangxiao had collapsed from a momentary flare of rage. Qinghe’s words, however, seemed to imply that he was going to kick the bucket soon. Was this not Qinghe’s way of cursing him to die?

Meng Qingjiang remained unaware but Meng Qinghai’s expression became strained. However, with Meng Chongjiu and Meng-Wang-shi present, he could not let out his anger.

Perhaps managing to understand the implications of her son’s words, Meng-Wang-shi’s weeping suddenly grew in volume. Seeing her wracked with sobs, her two daughters-in-law joined in, one louder than the next. Even if they did not understand the reasoning, just seeing Meng Qinghai’s worsening expression alone was worth it!

They had finally seen through to the true colors of the Meng clan members.

The Meng clan head?

Pah!

Their relatives?

Pah again.

Meng dalang, who was studious?

Pah once more.

After spitting in contempt, let them continue weeping.

After all, they were widows. What did it matter if they wept some more?

Meng Chongjiu let go of Meng Guangxiao’s wrist and pressed down hard on his philtrum. Seeing that Meng Guangxiao flared his nostrils but kept his eyes tightly closed and remained ‘unconscious’, he knew what was going on.

In the twenty-seventh year of Hongwu, the Emperor established the elder system. All the nominated elders were virtuous, full of knowledge, and well-respected individuals. Not only did their responsibilities encompass supervising and guiding the local agriculture and spreading the teachings of the Six Lun, they also had slight judicial powers to deal with some of the disputes that arose in their villages.

As such an elder, Meng Chongjiu’s knowledge and conduct were, naturally, different. He knew of all that was happening within the Meng clan. He knew of Meng Guangxiao, Meng Guangshun, and the rest scheming to take Meng Guangzhi’s family properties. However, due to various reasons, he had not stepped in.

Meng Guangzhi’s branch of the family had gone into decline. Shi’erlang did not appear capable of heading up the household. As such, it was not necessarily a good thing for him to be holding onto all this coveted farmland.

However, Meng Chongjiu did not anticipate that Meng Guangxiao would go to such extreme ends, forcing shi’erlang to turn to the military. His trip to shi’erlang’s home today had also changed his thinking.

Meng Guangzhi’s branch of the family might not actually be on the decline. And Meng Qinghai might not be actually destined for achievement.

Compared to his three panicked sons, Meng Chongjiu was not all that anxious about Qinghe’s plan for enlistment. With regards to blood relations, his own branch of the family was sufficiently removed from Qinghe’s. So long as Meng Guangxiao and the rest’s families still had men, his own sons and grandsons would not be drafted into the military to replace Qinghe.

Meng Chongjiu was over the age of seventy and had lived through the tumultuous period of war that closed the curtains on the Yuan Dynasty. He had made it through the toughest of days. As such, his heart was harder than others and his wisdom also greater.

Shi’erlang had yet to reach the age of twenty and was already so thoughtful and fierce. Once he latched onto an opportunity, who was to say he would not accomplish great things?

“Jiushugong?”

Qinghe was afraid of neither Meng Guangxiao nor the Meng Qinghai brothers. In his eyes, it would be a piece of cake to bury these three. Facing Meng Chongjiu, however, his heart lurched.

‘Meng Qinghe’ had met Meng Chongjiu before, but his memory of the man did not hold a candle to his impression of him now.

It was as if this elder had seen right through him and his thoughts.

In an instant, Qinghe could feel the hairs on his nape rise. He trusted his instinct, and because he did so, his expression turned more solemn than ever.

One should not underestimate anyone, especially before one could be sure whether that person was a friend or a foe.

Meng Chongjiu rose to his feet and wiped his hands, not calling out Meng Guangxiao’s pretense of fainting. He simply told Meng Qinghai and Meng Qingjiang that their father was fine and just needed to go home and sleep it off. Sure, Meng Guangxiao was pretending to be unconscious, but he did show signs of having been enraged[6]. As to what stoked his fire, Meng Chongjiu could guess without asking.

Shi’erlang really was not a simple one.

Dalang was also smart, but he was still lacking compared to Qinghe.

Meng Qinghai was unsatistifed and wanted to say something more, but Meng Qingjiang was in a hurry to take their father home. “This is not the time right now. We will take care of that little mutt later on!”

With that, Meng Qingjiang lifted Meng Guangxiao on his back and left.

Full of filial piety, he had no awareness that he had just ruined his brother’s ‘big business’. Neither did he realize that his father’s hands, which rested on his shoulders, suddenly had strength in them again.

Looking at Meng Qingjiang in his hurry and Meng Qinghai in his frustrated ire, Qinghe had to remind himself that he could not laugh, that he absolutely must not laugh.

“Shi’erlang.”

With a slight cough, Qinghe turned around. An unperturbed expression on his face, he cupped his hands in the gesture of respect and bowed. “Jiushugong, thank you for your troubles today.”

His household was still in mourning. Asking another person over at this time was naturally rather taboo. By having Meng Chongjiu visit today, Qinghe originally had other plans, but after seeing the man, he threw his plans out the window. It would not be wise to try to be smart in front of this old man. Better to be more careful.

Qinghe was confident but not arrogant, cautious but not cowardly. This was the basis of his success.

“Shi’erlang,” Meng Chongjiu stopped by the door, his beard blowing in the wind. “You want to enlist in the military?”

“Yes I do.”

“Mm,” Meng Chongjiu nodded, “I am on familiar terms with the county registrar[7] so perhaps I can be of help.”

“I would be grateful for that, jiushugong!”

“Not so fast.” Meng Chongjiu lifted a hand. “In exchange for helping you, I need you to agree to one thing.”

Qinghe raised his head, neither agreeing nor refusing right away. He simply gazed at Meng Chongjiu respectfully.

“Please tell me what it is.”

“No hurry. Once things are set, I will tell you.” Meng Chongjiu suddenly changed his serious expression. “Do not fret. I will not ask something impossible of you.”

“Alright.” Qinghe agreed readily this time. It was easy to get things done when you had connections in the local government office. If Meng Chongjiu could smooth the way for him, then why not?

Morever, him enlisting was bad news for not only Meng Guangxiao but pretty much everyone with the surname Meng. It might not be as serious as being surrounded by enemies on all sides, but from now on, he was bound to have poor relations with his fellow clan members. If he could get an ‘ally’ to take some of the heat off his back, that was hardly a bad thing.

Even if Meng Chongjiu was going to put him in a hard spot, he could always find a way to deal with it when the time came.

A hero can be defeated by a penny, that much was true, but Qinghe had never thought of himself as a hero.

Without copper money, he still had paper money, right?

The eyes of the old man and the young boy met. Both of their mouths split into a grin. It was as if both had a fox’s tail wagging behind them.

The next day, Meng Chongjiu got out his ox-pulled cart and headed for the county town. As he drew near the town gate, a team of cavalrymen flew past him.

Vermilion mandarin duck battle coats[8], long swords in black sheaths, bows and arrows that glinted coldly. Each rider held the reins with one hand and raised the whip in the other. In the wake of their horses’ hooves, there was only  a cloud of dust.

The person at the front was dressed in the deep blue uniform of a military official. With such a brief glance, it was impossible to make out his features, but his soldierly aura was sharp as a blade.

Meng Chongjiu hurriedly moved his ox cart to the side of the road. Only after the dust lifted by the galloping horses settled once again did he let his breath out. He thought to himself: such a heavy aura of viciousness! 

~

Chapter 5 tbc

~

T/N:

[1] This refers to Meng Qingjiang, who is the fourth oldest male in his generation. (Brief reminder: Qinghai = 1, Qinghai’s younger brother Qingjiang = 4, Qinghe’s oldest brother = 8, Qinghe’s second oldest brother = 9, Qinghe = 12.)

[2] Literally: oldest brother.

[3] Confucian teachings had five lun, or five ‘relationships’: between ruler and subject, father and son, husband and wife, brothers, and friends. The sixth lun is the relationship between oneself and strangers/the rest of society.

[4] This works along the lines of Meng laoliu (six) and Wang laosan (three), as seen in the last chapter. Da means big/oldest, so the Meng laoda here refers to Meng Guangxiao, who is the oldest in his generation.

[5] Shugong is a great-uncle. Jiu (nine) refers to the fact that Meng Chongjiu is the ninth oldest of his generation.

[6] The description of qi huo gong xin relates to traditional Chinese medicine. Basically anger increases the heart rate, can cause shortness of breath and fainting.

[7] I’m not sure what the official translation for this administrative job (zhubu) is.

[8] This was part of the uniform during the Ming Dynasty. It was a bright red cotton-padded knee-length robe with narrow sleeves and called “mandarin duck battle coat”.

[imperceptibility]

清和 (Qinghe) -- by 来自远方 (Lai Zi Yuan Fang) -- ch. 3

~

Author → here

JJWXC → here

Disclaimer & summary → here

Translated by me

Index of characters → here

⯇ Chapter 2

~

A few days later, Qinghe once again went to see the intermediary. Through the intermediary, he also managed to successfully spread the message that the reason he was selling his house and farmland was because he was giving up his studies to enlist in the military so that he could go to the northern borderland and avenge his father and brothers.

Meng shi’erlang was going to enlist in the military?

As soon as the message got out, it was as if a drop of boiling hot oil had been dripped into cold water. The Meng Village exploded with it. Whether it was the housewives fetching water from the well or the the farmers plowing the fields, this was what everyone was talking about.

Before long, word even reached the neighboring villages.

“Meng shi’erlang is really going to enlist?”

“Of course! I heard it with my own ears.”

“Has he turned into a fool? Even if he were to give up his studies, he can still farm. He wants to give up his perfectly good life as a farmer to become a soldier?”

The small group of farmers was in the middle of their enthusiastic discussion when another voice interjected: “Farm? He’d need land to do that.”

“What do you mean?” One farmer put down his hoe and rubbed at his ear. “Meng laoliu[1] and his two older sons were all capable people. There must be some remaining property for the family.”

“From what I hear,” the farmer who had interjected was squatting by the field and he motioned for the others to come closer so he could lower his voice, “Meng Quangxiao is being neither kind nor generous. He has taken advantage of the fact that Meng Quangzhi and his two sons are gone and is bullying that household of widows and orphans, scheming his way to taking their house and fields and forcing shi’erlang’s family to the end of their rope. Back when shi’erlang was kicked out of school, everyone said it was odd, no? Shi’erlang became a tongsheng[2] at the age of thirteen. He could have attempted the next level of examination to become a xiucai just like Meng dalang, but now there is no hope for that. The reason he is enlisting is most likely this. He has got no other means of survival.”

“Oh?! Is that true? Wang laosan, you better not be making things up.”

“No matter what, Meng Guangxiao is the head of his clan and is a close relative[3] of Meng Guangzhi. How could he do something like this?”

“I am not making up anything! It is true. Not just Meng Guangxiao, even Meng Guangshun and Meng Guangming do not have clean hands in this matter, collaborating to steal their cousin’s properties. Shi’erlang’s family sold more than sixty mu of their farmland, more than half of which were top quality. Forget three funerals. You could have thirty funerals with that money. But look at how Meng Guangzhi and his sons’ funerals went. Look at how shi’erlang’s family is living right now.”

Everyone felt the man’s words were logical. 

Meng Qinghe needed to provide for his widowed mother and he needed to take care of two widowed sisters-in-law. Unable to hold on to his house and farmland and with the imperial examinations looking hopeless, as someone who had no other special skills under his belt, at least enlisting in the military (even if that meant converting land to farmland next to whichever border fortress he was to be stationed at) was a way out.

Thinking about it like this, Meng Qinghe wanting to enlist would make sense.

Everyone loved to gossip. As people heard rumors and passed them on with exaggerations and made-up details, Meng Guangxiao and the rest’s reputation took a nose dive. Even Meng Qinghai was asked by his peers about it at school. As scholars, at least his peers took into account his dignity and did not embarrass him in person. 

However, Meng Qinghai acted as if he were not affected. Day in and day out, he kept his nose in his books, single-minded focusing on preparing for the examination in a few months’ time. This lessened the rumors swirling about him and, by accident, gained him the favor of one of the county school’s assistant teachers[4]. The man stated that Meng Qinghai’s calm and collected demeanor in the face of such matters was rare and thus he was bound to achieve great things in the future. In contrast, his opinion of Meng Qinghe, whom he had never met before, became negative.

“Rumors are only rumors after all, not the truth. It is obvious what the character of a tongsheng who was kicked from his school is like.”

After learning of this, Meng Qinghe merely smiled without a care. Never mind an assistant teacher at the county school, even if it had been the county school teacher, or a teacher at the prefecture level schools, it had nothing to do with him. In fact, he hoped that Meng Qinghai would pass his exams and become a xiucai. Then it would be so much more fun.

The days passed. The gossip showed no signs of dying down.

Meng Qinghai could maintain his composure. Those who had nothing to do with the issue could liven their after-meal gossiping with it. However, the Meng clan members related to the matter were in a panic, as if someone had set their eyebrows on fire.

After finding out that Qinghe intended to enlist, Meng Guangxiao could no longer sit still. Rather, anyone who was Qinghe’s relative in some form or other could not sit still.

Shi’erlang was going to join the military? How could this be! Once his identity became registered as ‘military’[5], it would have troubling effects for other families in the clan!

The military policy of voluntary enlistment flourished in the latter half of the Ming Dynasty. At its start, the weisuo system of conscription had yet to break down and a military registration was heritable.

Once a person became ‘military’, every generation thereafter would be military. Should the father die, his son would succeed him. Should the older brother pass on, the younger brother would pick up where he had left off. This would continue until the entire lineage died out. The only way to rid oneself of the military status would be for the imperial court to issue a grace order, or if someone in the family strove hard and reached the position of the Minister of Defense after fearlessly beating out all those who had been trained for this line of work.

Comparing the two, the latter was even less likely, essentially impossible for a ‘grassroots’ individual with no background.

Of course, the Hongwu Emperor himself was a ‘grassroots’ individual, but he was not just anybody.

Even worse, if a military household died out or if a soldier deserted, the space must be filled by a relative. If there were no relatives to fill the space, then a person of the same surname from the same hometown had to. Regardless of whether one was succeeding one’s forefather or one was being drafted based on the household register, ultimately, all the spaces in the military needed to be filled.

Collecting soldier’s pay from the government without a corresponding soldier in place? From the Hongwu Era to the Yongle Era, doing this was no different from courting death.

Using an ‘adopted son’ as a replacement? In a period of the Ming Dynasty where even wanting to become a monk meant an investigation of one’s household register and came with strict age limits, this was impossible.

It did not matter that Meng Qinghe was selling his house and farmland. It was even fine for him to take his mother and sisters-in-law and leave the Meng Village. However, him enlisting was far, far from good.

Based on what shi’erlang was like, forget going into battle and killing enemies, he probably could not even lift a sword. After joining the military, one would need to thank the heavens a hundred times over if he could survive even for a day.

It was fine if he died. In Meng Guangzhi’s family, there were no more men. His brothers balang and jiulang left behind daughters. So who would the military look to for his replacement? The families of Meng Guangxiao and the rest were the prime picks.

Should the officials come knocking, it would not matter even if Meng dalang managed to become a xiucai.

Meng Guangxiao became anxious. He might be able to not mind his own reputation, but he had to care about his son’s prospects. As soon as his good nephew Qinghe became ‘military’, his own family would suffer for it. It was a matter of when, not if. Once that day came, dalang’s road of working his way up the imperial examinations would be completely blocked off.

The more he thought about it, the more uncertain he felt. In the end, he visited Qinghe’s family again. Not only was his attitude sincere, he even pulled on a hemp robe over his cotton-padded jacket.

Qinghe greeted him, the corner of his mouth twitching behind the curtain of his long hair.

Trying to play up familial love? Who was the real fool here?

“Good nephew, please do not be impulsive! At the very least, think of your mother!”

Qinghe’s expression was resolute, full of scholarly determination. “Datangbo, my father and brothers died at the hands of the Tatars. Even their remains could not be recovered. How can I hope to be a proper human being without avenging them?”

A sheen of sweat appeared on Meng Guangxiao’s forehead. “Good nephew, it is not so easy to kill the Tatars. Listen to me. Farmland and a house are the fundamental anchor of one’s life; it is better to not sell them. Also, do not think about enlisting anymore. Keep farming. If you want to continue your studies, I will think of a way for you to do so. If your father had a way of knowing what is happening, he would not want you to let your emotions affect your decisions either.”

“But the food and money that we owe ertangbo...?”

“Do not worry! I will go speak to him,” Meng Guangxiao hurriedly offered. “We are all relatives, after all.”

Seeing Qinghe's moment of quietness, Meng Guangxiao thought that he was getting through to him. Never did he imagine that Qinghe’s following words would choke the air right out of his lungs.

“I am thankful for datangbo’s kind intentions but a real man’s words hold enormous weight and he should not easily change his mind. He cannot accomplish anything if his promises cannot be trusted. You care for us as relatives, but I do not want to put you in a difficult position. I have already found an intermediary. Once I have repaid the debt owed to everyone, I will enlist.”

“Good nephew, listen to me!”

“No need to say more! My mind is made up. I have no regrets even if I die!”

“Good nephew, think on it some more.”

“No need.” Qinghe was full of devotion to righteousness. “One person joins the army, the whole family...no wait, the whole clan receives honor and glory!”

What ******* honor and glory!

Meng Guangxiao was no longer sweating. Instead, what rolled down were tears. A fool could not be reasoned with and it was impossible to communicate with one. He must have been confused back when he thought it was a ‘good’ thing that Qinghe was a fool!

Seeing that Meng Guangxiao was about to continue with his persuasion, Qinghe roughly loosened his collar and made an angry, malevolent face: “Whoever stops me from selling my house and farmland is stopping me from enlisting. Whoever stops me from enlisting is stopping me from avenging my father and brothers, forcing me to be unfilial and unrighteous! Such a person is my mortal enemy! I will fight such a person to death! I may not be able to swing the hatchet, but I can manage with the kitchen knife!”

“Good nephew, the punishment for murder is death...”

“Worry not!” With his hair loose about him, Qinghe bared his teeth and turned around to pick up a thick tome, which happened to be “Yu Zhi Da Gao”[6], compiled by the Hongwu Emperor himself. With a lift of his chin and a raise of his eyebrow, Qinghe continued: “I have the “Da Gao”! The imperial court says that anyone who has a copy of it automatically receives a reduction on their sentence. If I were to fight to the death with someone, my head will be safe. At the worst, I will be exiled and made to join the military[7]. If that were to be the case, then I can even save the money I would otherwise need to spend on getting there.”

As he spoke, Qinghe seemed to weigh the tome in his hand and compare it to Meng Guangxiao’s head, seemingly eager to give it a try.

He was a fool, after all, and what a fool did could not be held to normal standards of reason.

Gazing at Qinghe with his Da Gao in hand and an aura of auspiciousness, Meng Guangxiao’s lips trembled. A breath lodged itself in his throat and his eyes rolled back; Meng Guangxiao successfully fainted.

Before he hit the ground, he managed to utter something that transcended time: ****!

~

Chapter 4 ▶

~

T/N:

[1] Laoliu is a familiar way of addressing a person who is number six. In this case, MQH’s father Meng Guangzhi was the sixth oldest in his generation in his clan.

Similarly, a bit later on, Wang laosan means that person is the third oldest in his generation of the Wang clan.

[2] There were multiple levels to the imperial examination. A person who had passed the most local and basic level attained status as a tongsheng (literally “child student”). If this person did not go on to pass a next level of examination to become a xiucai, then yes, he would be a “child student” until the end of his life. (Xiucai enjoyed privileges that commoners did not have.)

[3] The author states that he is a relative of the tang sort (paternal cousins) whose closeness in blood has not gone outside of wufu. In the first chapter, this came up as the levels of hemp mourning garments one had to wear for one’s close relatives.

[4] There are many levels of teachers, as mentioned by the author in the original text. The role of this assistant teacher, xundao, was to aid the actual teacher. Depending on the level of the school, the role of teacher had a different title. At the county level, this was the jiaoyu. At the zhou (prefecture/department) level, this was the xuezheng. At the fu (urban prefecture of special importance) level, this was the jiaoshou (which is what university professors are called nowadays).

[5] There was a identity registry system used to keep track of people and their information, which included whether they were “farmers” or “military” or “slaves/servants”. This affected what they could do in life.

[6] The Yu Zhi Da Gao was a book of laws (case studies of serious crimes and the severe punishments meted out), one of several published during the Hongwu Emperor’s reign. Its title literally translates to “imperial order”.

[7] Yes, sometimes, the punishment was to be exiled to remote/not that hospitable/rife with conflict regions and join the military.

[imperceptibility]

清和 (Qinghe) -- by 来自远方 (Lai Zi Yuan Fang) -- ch. 2

~

Author → here

JJWXC → here

Disclaimer & summary → here

Translated by me

Index of characters → here

⯇ Chapter 1

~

Meng Qinghe considered himself to be a kindhearted person, despite most of those who had experience dealing with him holding an opposing opinion.

Although he had never committed any monstrous acts and was far from being a person steeped in evil, every single individual who was familiar with him would involuntarily shiver upon seeing his signature action of putting his finger on the frame of his glasses.

Meng Qinghe was against violence. Moreover, he would never speak maliciously towards another person.

Physical appearance aside, his scholarly aura often caused others to err in their judgement of him.

He liked to calmly deliberate, though 90% of the time, the subjects of his ‘deliberation’ would meet quite the tragic fate.

Meng Guangxiao did not know that Qinghe was no longer the same person inside, and so he gleefully waited to cheaply acquire the big house and the farmland that Meng Guangzhi had left behind.

So what if Meng Guangzhi had a reputation for his generosity? So what if he had been able to amass so much property? The world was full of hypocrisy. After he had kicked the bucket, who came forward to speak out for his family? Ultimately, the house and the farmland he had had in life wound up in Meng Guangxiao’s hands, did they not?

Meng Guangzhi had become the squad leader over him. But while he was leading the squad on its way to answering the mandatory call of labor, they had run into the Tatars[1] and he and his two sons died together in the northern borderland. Just by recalling this made Meng Guangxiao feel somehow vindicated.

Served him just right!

Meng-Liu-shi came out of the kitchen with warmed wine and two small side dishes. As soon as she pushed open the door, she saw Meng Guangxiao sitting on the chair with his legs crossed, drumming his fingers on the table and shaking his head. His muttering was too low to make out.

“Dangjiade[2],” Meng-Liu-shi placed the wine and food on the table, wiping her hands on her apron. Her expression was somewhat hesitant, but she still spoke: “Why not forget about the matter with shi’erlang? I have tried persuading you not to back when they first sold plots of their farmland. We are all relatives, so doing this is not a good idea. Once things are out in the open, how will we face one another? Plus, you are the head of the clan, so it would not do for others to gossip about you for your actions. Besides, they really are having a hard time...”

Bang!

Smashing the wine cup down upon the table, Meng Guangxiao’s expression was thunderous. Meng-Liu-shi did not dare to say more. Even if she said more, Meng Guangxiao was not going to change his mind. All it would achieve would be getting herself in trouble as well. In the end, she could only sigh. Their family hardly needed that house or those few mu of land. And yet it was as if her husband was stubbornly stuck on this matter, unwilling to listen to any advice to the contrary. They were all members of the Meng clan. Back during the time of liutangdi[3] Meng Guangzhi and his sons’ funeral, there was already gossip floating around, causing Meng-Liu-shi to want to crawl into some fissure in the ground with shame. And now this. If shi’erlang’s family was actually pushed off the cliff, would hers really have gained something?

This sort of thing could be done by Meng Guangshun or Meng Guangming, just not her husband! If nothing else, her oldest son was still in school. What would happen if news got out that his elders were acrimonious towards their relatives?

She was brimming with anxiety. With Meng Guangxiao refusing to listen, all she could do was fret in secret.

Meng Guangxiao did not know of his wife’s thoughts. Sitting next to the table, he picked up some peanuts and tossed them into his mouth between sips of wine, fully content.

As the sun grew closer to the horizon, the wine pot on the table became empty. Meng Guangxiao burped, his entire face flushed red. 

Meng Qinghai returned home from school. After brushing the snow from his body, he greeted Meng Guangxiao and Meng-Liu-shi.

“Father, mother, I am back.”

Meng Guangxiao looked up. Upon seeing his eldest son dressed in a rushan, wearing a sifangpingdingjin[4], Meng Guangxiao became a little more clear-headed.

“You are back.”

Meng-Liu-shi gave Meng Qinghai a look. When Meng Guangxiao was in a temper, only their oldest son could perhaps convince him otherwise.

Meng Qinghai nodded towards his mother and carefully chose his words: “Father, about shi’erlang...”

Before he could finish, Meng Guangxiao shook his head. “Just focus on your studies. Do not worry about anything else.”

“But father...”

“Enough. Do not say more.” Meng Guangxiao was inebriated and he impatiently cut Meng Qinghai off. “That boy is but a fool. No need to waste more energy on thoughts of him.”

Seeing his father’s displeasure, Meng Qinghai could only stop. Steering the conversation away and choosing things that would please his father to say, he finally managed to lighten Meng Guangxiao’s expression.

Ultimately, his multiple efforts to persuade his father were for his own sake, not out of some brotherly affection for Meng Qinghe. If Qinghe really were as his father described him, then there was nothing to worry about. Moreover, his father was the head of the Meng clan while his father-in-law was the village chief[5]. Once he passed the exam and entered the county school, to him, Qinghe would be merely an ant that he could crush at will.

With that thought, his last trace of worry vanished.

Only Meng-Liu-shi’s expression continued to carry some degree of concern. She wanted to speak but had no way of getting the words out.

Like this father and son pair, Meng Qinghe and Meng-Wang-shi also had a long conversation.

When the talk took place, Meng-Xu-shi and Meng-Zhang-shi were not present. It was not that he did not trust his sisters-in-law; rather, he just wanted to prevent side issues from arising. Meng-Wang-shi was capable of unconditionally believing in and supporting him, but that was not necessarily true for Meng-Xu-shi and Meng-Zhang-shi. After all, what he wanted to do would not be affecting just himself.

Reality proved that his apprehension was not, in fact, unwarranted. After telling Meng-Wang-shi of his plans, she was stunned for an entire ten minutes.

Her thought: could it be that shi’erlang has really turned into a fool?

He wanted to throw away his perfectly good occupation as a farmer[6] and enlist in the army? Once he became a soldier, how could he take the imperial examination? Were all these years of study going to waste? If her husband were to find out, would he be rolling in his grave?

And once she passed on, what face would she have to go see the Meng clan ancestors?

“Mother, I have not become a fool. Neither am I momentarily confused.” Qinghe slowed his speaking as much as he could. He knew what sort of an effect his words would have on Meng-Wang-shi, but he would never go back on something that he had decided upon.

Joining the army was for himself, for the family of “Meng Qinghe”, and for the sake of conveniently tricking Meng Guangxiao.

If he had not wound up in the body of this boy, he could not be sure he would not have become a lonely soul drifting six hundred years in the past. If he could drift his way back to the present, then all would be well. If not, then death would only be a matter of time.

When living was an option, nobody would want to die.

Seeing as he was ‘benefiting’ off the original Meng Qinghe, then he must shoulder the responsibilities that came with this ‘benefit’, regardless of whether he had asked for it for not.

Although through his planned action, Meng Guangxiao would not be the only one falling into the hole that he dug. There was no escape for the entire Meng Village[7].

In retrospect, the only thing that could be said was that Qinghe’s hole-digging technique had reached new heights

“Son, are you really set on this?”

“Mother, please put your faith in me this once.”

Gritting his teeth, Qinghe fell to his knees in front of Meng-Wang-shi. From this moment forward, he was no longer the Meng Qinghe of the 21st century but rather the boy living during the early years of the Ming Dynasty who had just lost his father.

“Mother, I was chased out of the school. I am afraid that from now on, nothing will come of my test-taking. Father and my brothers are gone. There is absolutely no way for us to keep possession of our farmland. Meng Village is also not a place to permanently call home. The only way forward is to enlist.”

The corners of her mouth trembling, Meng-Wang-shi lifted her hand, as if wanting to caress Qinghe’s head. But she aborted the action part of the way, setting her hand back down.

“Son, as your mother, it is I who is useless, dragging you down like this.” Meng-Wang-shi’s eyes reddened with tears, but alas, none fell. Ever since her husband and two of her sons had died, her tears had flown so much that they were now nearly dried up.

“Mother, this is what I have decided.” Qinghe looked at Meng-Wang-shi, his eyes resolute, his words impassioned. “Father and my brothers were killed by the Tatars. Even if I cannot kill their murderers with my own hands, I must kill a few of the Tatars to console their souls!

With tears hanging in the corners of her eyes, Meng-Wang-shi suddenly thought of something. “Kill the Tatars?”

“Indeed!”

“To avenge your father and brothers?”

“Indeed!”

“But son,” she paused, her tone doubtful, “can you lift our family’s hatchet?”

“......” It would appear that he could not.

For a moment, mother and son looked at one another, simultaneously silent.

At the start of the Ming Dynasty, soldiers were fierce and courageous. All the Princes stationed to defend the northern borderland had amiable meetings with their prairie friends every few days or so. Those prairie friends also liked to come to the border of the Ming Empire to display the qualities of a good neighbor. Both sides often came and went in the midst of swords and spears, extremely ‘intimate’ in their relationship.

With Qinghe’s current small and lean frame, he barely had any flesh for a sword to slice off. Unable to even lift a hatchet, on the battlefield, the others would not even deign to use him as cannon fodder.

Qinghe wanting to join the military was not hard.

Him wanting to make contributions after joining was very hard.

Three meals a day, a standalone house, no worries over food or clothing — he was still quite a distance away from those goals.

Pinching his own thin arms, Qinghe lowered his head, squatted down, and drew circles on the ground in silence.

He missed his eight-head height in the 21st century, his six-pack.

With just the right timing, the old cat outside gave a meow, contentedly licking its paw and washing its face, clearly having just ate a full meal.

Qinghe turned his head and bared his teeth in the direction of the door. While the cat bristled, he clenched his fists: effort was what mattered. A six-pack, so what? Sooner or later, he was going to achieve an eight-pack!

Although...the difficulty was a bit high.

After their conversation, Meng-Wang-shi no longer made any effort to stop Qinghe’s actions. When her daughters-in-law found the chance to inquire about them, she would dismiss them with a “shi’erlang has his plans”.

Seeing that their mother-in-law’s expressions betrayed no lie, Meng-Xu-shi and Meng-Zhang-shi had no choice but to drop the subject. In their family, the decision-makers were their mother-in-law and their xiaoshu. Since they had no desire to remarry, surely no great wrong could come of listening more and speaking less for each and every matter.

Besides, ever since datangbo had came over, they could feel that their xiaoshu had changed a great deal, as if he had grown up over night. He was no longer a teenager but one hundred percent a man.

~

Chapter 3  ▶

~

T/N

[1] It’s a bit complicated. Tatars = the direct translation but I’m not sure it correctly conveys the actual people this refers to. Historically at this time, 鞑靼 were northern neighbors to the Han Chinese. Although I’m not clear on the relationship between the Mongols, the Tatars, and the Turkic peoples (other Turkic people? since the Tatars were Turkic? but had come under Mongolian rule? or were allied with the Mongols? but were absorbed into the Mongols? anyway...), it is perhaps important to point out that what preceded the Ming Dynasty was the Yuan Dynasty, a time of Mongolian rule.

[2] Dangjiade is literally “head of the house”. Wives sometimes referred to their husbands by their role: head of the house, father of the kids, etc.

[3] Di is younger brother. Tangdi is a younger male paternal cousin. Liutangdi is the sixth oldest male in that generation.

[4] Rushan is a type of garment. Sifangpingdingjin is a type of square-shaped soft hat (literally “brought-peace-to-all-the-land head-covering”), worn by Ming Dynasty Confucianist scholars.

[5] Lizhang was a local official who oversaw the people within his jurisdiction and their obligatory labor.

[6] Farming was a well-respected occupation...abuse by some members of the gentry aside. As such, it was desirable to have your identity registered under the classification of “farmer”.

[7] Meng Jia Tun is literally Meng family village. Back in the days, some small and/or remote villages were populated by mostly people of the same clan/surname.

[imperceptibility]

清和 (Qinghe) -- index of characters

To help keep things straight! Will be added to as necessary.

THE MENG CLAN

Meng Qinghe (MQH): protagonist, shi’erlang (#12 in his generation)

The immediate family: 

Meng Guangzhi: MQH’s father (#6 in his generation)

Meng-Wang-shi: MQH’s mother

As yet unnamed older brother #1, balang (#8 in his generation)

As yet unnamed older brother #2, jiulang (#9 in his generation)

Meng-Xu-shi: MQH’s sister-in-law

Meng-Zhang-shi: MQH’s sister-in-law

As yet unnamed nieces, as yet unknown number

More distant relations:

Meng Guangxiao (MGX): paternal uncle, datangbo (#1 in his generation)

Meng-Liu-shi: MGX’s wife

Meng Qinghai: MGX’s oldest son, dalang (#1 in his generation)

Meng Qingjiang: MGX’s second son, silang (#4 in his generation)

Meng Guangshun: another such relative

Meng Guangming: another such relative

Meng Chongjiu: paternal great-uncle, jiushugong (#9 in his generation)

THE ROYAL ZHU CLAN

Hongwu Emperor: aka Zhu Yuanzhang, Taizu of Ming; the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty who outlived his heir of choice

Jianwen Emperor: aka Zhu Yunwen; Hongwu’s grandson and the son of Hongwu’s heir of choice

Yongle Emperor: aka Zhu Di, the Prince of Yan, Chengzu of Ming; Hongwu’s son and Jianwen’s uncle who historically overthrew Jianwen.

Also, the as yet unnamed love interest...who finally made a slight cameo in chapter 4!

[imperceptibility]

清和 (Qinghe) -- by 来自远方 (Lai Zi Yuan Fang) -- ch. 1

~

Author → here

JJWXC → here

Disclaimer & summary → here

Translated by me

Index of characters → here

~

Ming Dynasty, year thirty-one of Hongwu, Beiping-fu

The third month of the year[1] should have been a time when the lakes and rivers were warming up and the flowers began blossoming, but instead, Beiping saw several snowstorms. The frigid wind swept along a skyful of snow. Like a knife scraping the bone, gust by gust, it blew against one’s cheeks until they stung sharply.

Dressed in hemp with his hands stowed in his sleeves, Meng Qinghe was squatting by the door, staring blankly at the patterns on the door bolt.

Half-chi-long icicles hung from the eaves. The northerly wind swirled. The window frames made noises, as if it were knocking upon a person’s heart.

The old cat lying by corner stood up with a meow, stretching and then licking its paw. With a couple of jumps, it reached the surface of the simple and crude table upon which rested some brushes and paper, ink and an inkwell. Leaving behind a few paw prints on the yellowing paper, it shook its whiskers in joyful satisfaction.

In the past, Meng Qinghe would have definitely stepped over to chase it away, but in that moment, he was not in the mood.

“The Ming Dynasty, during the reign of Hongwu, Beiping-fu...good heavens, you’ve got to be kidding me...”

When a person got unlucky, even the water they drank would get stuck in their teeth[2].

He had just been walking down the street, nothing out of the ordinary. Even so he ended up traveling through time — and six hundred years at that!

Just how in the world did he time travel? Was there a problem with the way he walked?

“How great would it be if this were a dream,” Qinghe gave his head a hard scratch, dejected and also helpless.

If he had known, he would rather have sold his body to entertain the masses by grabbing a pole and dancing the hula at his company’s annual dinner than sneaking out early.

What a shame that wishes were wonderful but reality was so often incomparably cruel. Cruel, just as the northerly wind blowing on him through the door crack.

Sigh...

His loose long hair flew. The hemp sack of a robe he was wearing might as well have not even been there.

It was so cold his teeth chattered. Rubbing his arms, Qinghe gritted his teeth. He was already here and his chances of returning to his time were slim to none. Even if he regretted things to the moon and back, it was futile. What he should be thinking about was how to keep living.

He did not require much much: three meals a day, a standalone house, no worries over food or clothing — that’d be enough.

Lacking in ambition? A good man not striving to accomplish things and win all the ladies?

He’d ask such a doubter to open their goddamn eyes. This was the reign of Hongwu. Beiping-fu was the Prince of Yan’s territory. Wanting to overflow with boldness in the presence of the likes of Taizu and Chengzu of Ming? Were they tired of how long their life was lasting?

As for winning all the ladies...sorry, he preferred men.

Undertaking heroic ventures and snatching up a beautiful woman might be a story to capture the imagination, but snatching up a man...well, better to forget about it.

Qinghe wiggled his fingers and pushed at the glasses that no longer rested on the bridge of his nose. As dictated by his profession, no matter what it was that he was going to do, he liked to lay out plans beforehand.

Right then, being a civil servant was a high risk job. The higher the position, the higher the likelihood of one’s head and neck taking their leave. The Hongwu Emperor’s bureaucratic reforms abolished the post of Grand Chancellor as well as the Six Ministries. On top of that, he set the record of ordering the execution of ten zu[3]. Jianwen Emperor, his grandson, was relatively good-natured, only intending to target his uncles. However, as it turned out, Jianwen’s military prowess was lacking and he would be usurped by one such uncle. Very few of the ministers who were adamantly loyal to him met a good end.

Thus, it was abundantly clear that taking the imperial exam to become a government official was not a viable path.

Becoming a merchant was also not a good way forward. For specifics, one could refer to the tycoon Shen Wansan, who loved to help others but who was sent away to Yunnan[4] by the Hongwu Emperor to experience life in the army.

Being a good, poor farmer was undoubtedly relatively safe, the prerequisite being that one did not encounter a year of calamities or run into a local tyrant or nasty member of the gentry with too formidable of a personal background.

Other than that, there was another path: enlisting in the military.

However, taking into account his actual situation, this matter was one that he needed to consider at greater length.

A noise sounded again from behind him. Qinghe turned his head to look at the old cat on his table, his lips cracking apart as he bared his teeth at the animal.

With his hair disheveled and a predatory glint in his eye, his thin face was exceptionally malevolent.

Meow!

The old cat bristled, leaping instantaneously from the table onto the roof beam.

Qinghe gave his hair a sassy flip. A perfect victory.

The satisfaction of a victory lasted all but two seconds before sorrow took its place. Gazing at the old cat that was chasing a mouse up on the roof beam, he was infinitely sad that even a cat was happier than him.

At least the cat could eat meat; he could not.

“Shi’erlang[5].” As he was drowning in the clutches of his sorrow, a quiet, hoarse call came from outside the door.

Qinghe did not respond. After a while, another quiet call came, peppered with coughing. No matter how hard his heart of stone was, he could not go on pretending that he had not heard.

Standing up, he shook out his limbs, an action of necessity due to the fact that he was frozen stiff.

Unbolting the door, he saw three haggard women dressed in hemp[6] standing outside. The one in the middle being supported was his mother. The other two supporting her were his older brothers’ wives.

“Mother, saozi[7].”

Going by the memories in his head, Qinghe bowed in greeting, letting the three of them into the room. When he had first arrived in this time period, the boy who was also named Meng Qinghe had already been gravely ill and soon breathed his last. The odd thing was, the memories of this body’s previous owner had remained in Qinghe’s mind.

“Shi’erlang, your datangbo[8] genuinely does not want us to live!”

His mother Meng-Wang-shi[9] coughed twice for each sentence she spoke. As for his sisters-in-law, Meng-Xu-shi and Meng-Zhang-shi, one stroked his mother’s back to ease her breathing while the other was busy consoling her. Their faces were pale and angry and helpless.

Their father-in-law was gone. Their men were also gone. Their xiaoshu[10] Meng Qinghe was only fourteen. What could he really do?

After listening to his mother’s lament, Qinghe’s brows also knotted together.

“What sweet words! ‘Lending a hand’, he says! He’s just scheming to get his hands on our measly family property!” Meng-Wang-shi took Qinghe’s hand in her own, her voice hoarse. “In order to pay for your father and your two brother’s funerals, we barely have anything left anyways! And now, he’s set his sights on even this...”

As she spoke, tears streamed down her face. “When your father and your brothers were alive, whenever something came up in the clan, we never denied them anything. To think their graves are not even cold yet and already your datangbo has turned hostile and is pushing us to the point of death! The fields that we sold, whose hands are they in now? And who took our ox that we used to plow the fields? And why did the teacher drive you out of school and back home? We all have Meng as our family name. How can he go so far? Does he not fear divine retribution?”

The more she spoke, the more stirred up her emotions became. Her wan face bloomed with pink and her coughing grew worse.

Before she finished her words, a cough sounded abruptly from outside the door. Qinghe looked over to find a short and stout man dressed in a dust-gray round-collared cotton padded jacket. The man’s face appeared simple and honest but his eyes carried a shred of shrewdness. It was his datangbo, Meng Guangxiao.

“Datangbo.”

Before Meng Guangxiao could open his mouth, Qinghe made his salutations and invited the man inside. After greeting him, Meng-Wang-shi sat to the side without a word. Qinghe’s two sisters-in-law stood behind Meng-Wang-shi with their heads slightly lowered, also keeping silent.

Meng Guangxiao indicated to Qinghe that there was no need to be so courteous. His tone was kind, as if he were genuinely a good-natured elder.

“Your father and brothers are gone. Your mother and sisters-in-law are women. You are still young. Whatever you need help with, I will not say no.” 

Qinghe raised his clasped hands[11] and bowed deeply. “Thank you, datangbo.”

Gestures dictated by the etiquette of the ancients were still awkward when he performed them. Good thing most verbal communication consisted of vernacular language and not filled with archaic expressions. Otherwise, it was bound to induce a headache, no matter who was on the receiving end.

“However,” what Meng Guangxiao was saying took a turn, “Good nephew, you’ve seen the weather at the start of this year. After all these snowstorms, the springtime field-plowing will probably be delayed.”

Qinghe did not pick up the thread of conversation, not that Meng Guangxiao minded. He carried right on speaking. His words were not harsh but the meaning was clear: the weather at the start of the year was poor and everybody was having a hard time. Your family might be facing difficulties but nobody else was well off either. So should you not be repaying the money and food you had borrowed earlier?

“Putting others aside for now, your ertangbo’s family just added an extra member. He has a hard time saying the words so I have to play the part of the bad person,” Meng Guangxiao paused. “You know I have no other options.”

“Indeed,” Qinghe agreed readily, seemingly completely unaware of what Meng Guangxiao was up to. After a moment, a bit of an ashamed blush crept up onto Qinghe’s face, as if he had just recalled that there was no food at home. “Right now, we are truly in quite a predicament. Could I ask for a few more days?”

“Oh?”

“In a few days, I will definitely come up with some way to scrape together the money and the food. I will not make things difficult for you, datangbo.”

Meng Guangxiao eyed the boy suspiciously. He knew how things stood with this family. Ever since he was little, Meng Qinghe had had his nose buried so deep in his studies that he ended up growing into an otherwise clueless fool. After Meng Guangzhi and his two sons died, there was nobody else who could take charge of the household. Three funerals had exhausted pretty much all of their wealth, leaving behind a family of widows and orphans, guarding a big house and several mu of farmland. If it were not for the fact that he had his eyes on those three mu of top quality farmland and this house, Meng Guangxiao would not drop by so often, risking having all this bad luck stick to him for no reason.

It had yet to be twenty-seven days since the funerals. Ordinarily, Meng Guangxiao should have been in the mourning garment xiaogong[12] for his cousin. At worst, he should have been in dressed in sima. No matter how nice his words were, him paying a visit in his gray, cotton padded jacket showed that he placed no importance upon this family of widows and children.

So the saying went: one would be better off looking down on an old man with white hair than a youth in poverty.

One could look with disdain upon the enemy but should not view an opponent lightly.

Meng Guangxiao had committed both errors. To put it bluntly, it was going to serve him right to fall flat on his face at Qinghe’s hands.

“Datangbo, there are still a few mu of farmland and a house in my family’s possession. Once I find an intermediary to evaluate the price and manage to sell them, I should be able to repay some of the debt.”

Qinghe had carefully deliberated the words that made him want to wince and he barely avoided biting his tongue in the process of delivering them. Given that he wanted to dig a hole for Meng Guangxiao to jump into, his “act” had to be convincing. He was an expert at this sort of thing.

Meng Guangxiao barely kept down the rising corners of his mouth, but he was unable to disguise the contempt in his eyes. His oldest son’s earlier concerns were unnecessary after all, concerns about how shi’erlang was extremely intelligent to the point of not appearing so on the surface[13] and to not coerce him, lest it ruin the amicability between both families. As it were, this boy was but a fool.

But it was a good thing that he was a fool!

After sending Meng Guangxiao off, Meng-Wang-shi, who had kept her silence, tugged on Qinghe’s garment, her voice trembling: “Oh son, what has happened to you? How come you...”

What she wanted to say was: ‘Oh son, how come you have lost it? Why fall for the trap in a one-track minded fashion when you clearly know he covets our property? Besides, that bit of paper money that Meng Guangxiao, Meng Guangshun, and the others had lent us has already been taken back by them many fold through the sale of our fields. Moreover, they pocketed a significant amount during the planning of the funerals. Now, they dare to use this as an excuse to coerce us!’

Meng-Xu-shi and Meng-Zhang-shi’s expressions also showed confusion and reproach. If the remaining land and house were sold off, what were they, as a family, going to eat? Where were they going to live?

“Mother, do not worry.” Qinghe, on the other hand, was the image of ease. Helping Meng-Wang-shi rise to her feet, he spoke in a resolute tone: “Rest assured that I have a plan.”

They wanted his family’s land? He would give it.

They also wanted his family’s house? He would give that as well.

Them laughing at him for being a fool? Then let him be one.

Being a fool was a good thing. If a fool took things a little too far and acted outside the realm of normal logic, nobody would be able to really take issue with that, right?

Qinghe smiled. Meng-Wang-shi did not notice but Meng-Xu-shi and Meng-Zhang-shi exchanged a look, each with an expression showing the same befuddlement. Did xiaoshu just smile? And an eerie smile at that...

~

Chapter 2  ▶

~

T/N:

[1] This refers to the third month of the Chinese lunar calendar, which is the month following the spring equinox.

[2] This is a common saying about misfortune.

[3] Warning for violence in this note!!! In ancient times, family members often paid for the crimes of their (sufficiently close) relatives. The harshest punishment before executing ten zu was executing nine zu, considered as the eradication of an offender’s lineage. According to Baidu Baike, these nine included four on the father’s side (one’s family, those of one’s married paternal aunts, those of one’s married sisters, and those of one’s married daughters), three on the mother’s side (that of one’s maternal grandfather, that of one’s maternal grandmother, those of one’s married maternal aunts), and two one the wife’s side (that of one’s father-in-law, that of one’s mother-in-law). The tenth zu was one’s students.

Absolutely gruesome, yes, but that was what it was, the harshest capital punishment meted out. Just explaining this to drive home the point of what Qinghe, as a modern day person, knew of the Hongwu Emperor.

[4] Yunnan province, back then, was considered quite remote for the Han Chinese. And also, as it remains today, Yunnan was home to many ethnic minorities. Read: conflicts.

[5] Shi’erlang is literally “twelfth young man”. Sons were referred to as *insert number* young man, with the number corresponding to their age ranking within the family. In this case, no, Qinghe’s mom did not have twelve boys. It refers to him being the twelfth oldest of his generation within his clan.

[6] This is the second occurrence of the word hemp so I guess I should belatedly explain: white clothes made of hemp were worn in mourning.

[7] Saozi is how one calls one’s older brother’s wife. To note, though it is so in Qinghe’s case, it does not have to be one’s older brother by blood. Nowadays, it doesn’t even have to be legally such a brother’s wife.

[8] Bo is a paternal uncle who is older than one’s father. Tangbo is such an uncle who is a paternal cousin of one’s father. Da indicates this uncle is the oldest of such a generation in the family. Er (2), san (3), si (4), etc would label the subsequent such uncles.

[9] Taking Meng-Wang-shi as an example, this was how married woman were referred to back then, in the format of X-Y-shi, wherein X = the surname of her husband and Y = the surname of her father. They were rarely addressed by first names, as that was considered intimate.

[10] Xiaoshu is how one calls one’s husband’s younger brother.

[11] This was a gesture of respect.

[12] Of the traditional wufu or five mourning garments, whether one wears the zhancui, qicui, dagong/dahong, xiaogong/xiaohong, or sima (in order of coarseness of the fabric) depended upon the closeness of one’s relation to the deceased. Sima had the finest weave and were worn by the most distant of relatives that needed to wear mourning garments.

[13] This is an idiom, one of several of opposites originating from the works of Lao-Tzu. It means that the truly intelligent are so different from the average person that their actions fail to be understood, thus appearing stupid.

[imperceptibility]

清和 (Qinghe) -- by 来自远方 (Lai Zi Yuan Fang)

Author → here

JJWXC → here

Disclaimer: Translating just for fun! Because I’ve toyed with the idea of novel translation for long enough. The creativity and the content belong to the author; I make nothing but maybe virtual cheesecake from this. Any ideas, opinions, or themes within the novel that may cause offense are not mine either. Yada yada.

Keep in mind this novel is set during a rather volatile period of imperial China. There will be violence, warfare, poor human rights, xenophobia, inequality between men and women, internalized misogyny, etc.

That being said, my work is my work. Please do not repost or claim as your own. Please do, however, point out mistakes if you catch any, because some days I just can’t type. Also, I do take small liberties here and there for reasons of flow and/or a lack of a good equivalent English expression.

It should be mentioned that the protagonist, Meng Qinghe, is a homosexual man. If that is not for you, then please go on and close the tab.

Thanks!

Genre: historical fiction; premise: time travel (to a real dynasty); relationship: two fictional men.

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Summary:

For a time-traveler to the most glorious and yet also the toughest era of the Ming Dynasty, living — and living better — is more important than anything.

This is a chronicle of the struggles of a small character at the start of the Ming Dynasty.

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Index of characters

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

[imperceptibility]

Housekeeping stuff

Only vague ideas of what might be written in such a post, but my brain tells me it may be necessary later. So. Placeholder. (What am I even doing...)