Chapter 18: When the Spring Rain Arrives
The first rain of this spring had arrived.
At first, sturdy raindrops pattered like marbles against the green tiles. Then, the forest seemed to come alive with the sound of waves, a misty spray like a waterfall rising. Thunder rumbled in bursts, and the ridge beasts perched on the eaves appeared to awaken in this very moment.
From each beast’s snout, bright streams of water trickled down. The flat stone courtyard of the mountain villa was dotted with countless dancing raindrops. Even the smoke wafting from the kitchen softened under the rain’s touch, curling gently and slanting through the curtain of rain.
In the courtyard stood an apricot tree, its newly blossomed pinkish-white petals unfurling beneath the rain arrows, each petal cradling a pool of sky-water.
Yang Can stood inside the side room, the window open, gazing through the rain curtain hanging beneath the eaves at the scene in the courtyard.
There, two rows of sword-bearing warriors clad in straw raincoats stood solemnly on either side of the stone path, rainwater streaming swiftly down their cloaks to the ground.
A tall figure with a slightly hunched back strode swiftly along the long stone path. The attendant holding his umbrella had to jog to keep pace with his long strides.
Beneath the ceremonial gate ahead, a figure in pure white appeared—Suo Chanzhi, delicate as a pear blossom in the rain. She stood beneath the hanging floral gate of the second gate. When the tall figure reached her, she bowed gracefully.
The figure halted; whatever was exchanged in words remains unknown, but after another courteous bow from Suo Chanzhi, she turned to accompany him into the second courtyard.
Two umbrellas floated gently toward the main hall of the second courtyard.
Who could this be? Could it be someone from the Suo family?
Yang Can had just thought this when a clear voice sounded: “This is the Second Master of the Suo family.”
Yang Can withdrew his gaze and looked toward the speaker.
It was Little Qingmei, holding an oil-paper umbrella, standing beneath the apricot tree.
“The Second Master of the Suo family has arrived?” Yang Can asked.
Qingmei nodded slightly. “After Master Yu’s death, Aunt Tu sent messengers at full speed to report back to the Suo family. Upon hearing the news, our head immediately sent the Second Master here.”
Yang Can’s heart leapt with joy. Without the Suo family’s involvement, the performance would hardly be as dramatic.
Fortunately, the leading role had arrived!
Qingmei paused, then added, “The day before yesterday, the head summoned the elders of the Yu family to visit the water prison.”
Yang Can asked, “What’s in the water prison?”
Qingmei replied, “That horse thief is locked up there. Oh! Commander Cheng is also inside.”
Yang Can nodded approvingly. Good—the opening drums were sounding; the grand drama was about to begin.
“Thank you, Miss Qingmei,” Yang Can said with a smile, nodding slightly. He knew Qingmei came specifically to deliver this news, most likely sent by Suo Chanzhi herself.
Qingmei tilted her head, looking at Yang Can, her delicate white teeth just barely visible between her red lips, as if about to speak but hesitating.
In the end, she said nothing, simply pursed her lips, lifted her skirt slightly, and drifted away.
She wore a pair of high-toothed wooden clogs, which kept her feet from getting wet in the rain.
Yang Can watched from the window—a pair of glossy black lacquered clogs with indigo straps tied around ivory-white ankles, highlighting the slenderness of those ankles.
As she lifted her foot, the clog separated from her snow-white foot, hooked only by her toes, forming a perfect arch between foot and clog.
When she stepped down, the clog hit the ground first with a soft “tap,” then her light, delicate foot settled upon the clog, like a webbed foot gently touching the water’s surface.
The rhythm of her step was a joy to behold.
Yang Can squinted, noting not only her small mouth but also her tiny feet, estimating them to be about size thirty-two or thirty-three.
Balancing the umbrella in one hand and lifting her skirt with the other, Qingmei suddenly stopped, turned around, and looked at Yang Can again.
She seemed to have remembered something she wanted to tell him.
She cautioned him, “The Second Master of the Suo family is fiery by nature. If you cross him, be careful not to anger him, or a beating will be the least of your worries.”
When she turned back, she caught Yang Can staring at her.
Qingmei’s eyebrows lifted dangerously.
Unaware, Yang Can raised his eyebrows at her in surprise.
“Tap!”
The wooden clogs struck the stone floor sharply!
Even at a time like this, you still have the leisure to ogle my backside? Foolish man!
Qingmei was both shy and angry, yet there was a faint trace of secret delight.
Her clogs clacked firmly on the stone path as she strode away, a crisp series of sounds like scattered chess pieces.
Yang Can, puzzled, rubbed his chin. What kind of problem was this?
Qingmei stiffened her face and disappeared through the gate of the second courtyard, leaving only the Suo family guards standing like spears in the rain.
What was so interesting about the guards? Yang Can shut the window.
The sound of the rain was blocked outside, yet a faint whisper still drifted through the cracks.
Yang Can collapsed onto the couch, eyes gently closing.
Everyone was here; the play was about to begin.
For him, the most crucial moment had arrived!
Whether he could transform from a mere extra into a leading role on this stage depended entirely on his next move.
…
In the rain, within the Mingde Hall of Phoenix Mountain Villa, the heads of the Yu family’s branches and the elders sat solemnly assembled.
The persistent rain outside lent a heavy atmosphere to the hall.
The funeral had concluded, and the mourners had already descended the mountain. Yet the Yu family remained gathered atop.
The Yu family was vast and populous; such a rare occasion to assemble everyone was naturally reserved for discussing important family matters.
Especially with the eldest heir recently deceased, the family faced a pressing matter: the appointment of a new heir.
Establishing an heir in the Yu clan was akin to appointing a crown prince in a kingdom; there must be a designated successor recognized by all parties.
Logically, with Yu Chengye gone, the heirship should pass to Yu Chenglin, the second son of Yu Xinglong.
However, it was well known that Yu Xinglong, the clan head, was frail and frequently ill.
Moreover, Yu Chenglin was only seven years old—he would need at least twenty years to mature enough to assume the family leadership.
But with Yu Xinglong’s weak health, no one was confident he would last that long.
Though the Yu family functioned as a local power akin to a feudal regime, borrowing governance experience from imperial dynasties, it was more flexible and less rigidly bound by strict rules.
In such an unstable future scenario, the heir need not necessarily be the second youngest son of the main branch.
Today, Yu Xinglong had convened the elders and branch heads in Mingde Hall, and everyone anticipated that appointing the heir would be the most critical agenda.
As expected, once everyone was seated, Yu Xinglong did not beat around the bush but directly revealed the reason for the meeting.
“My son Chengye died young. The Yu family must appoint a new heir. Though my second son Chenglin is young, he is quite intelligent. I wish to name Chenglin as heir. I ask if any branches have objections?”
The branch heads instinctively glanced at Yu Huanhu.
Yu Huanhu sat with his eyes closed, appearing like a meditating monk, saying nothing.
Many suspected Yu Huanhu’s involvement in Chengye’s death; at this time, any word or action from him could be misinterpreted, placing him in an awkward position, so he stayed silent.
After a moment of silence, Yu Xinglong cleared his throat softly.
“If no one objects, I shall hereby declare it…”
“Wait, Brother, I have something to say!”
Finally, someone stood up.
It was Yu Xiaobao, head of the third branch of the Yu main family.
Yu Xinglong had three brothers: Yu Xinglong, Yu Huanhu, and Yu Xiaobao.
In his youth, Lord Bao was a wild spirit, leading a few ruffians and roaming the red-light districts like a libertine.
Such a man was hardly fit for responsibility, so the authority of the main branch was mostly divided between his elder brothers.
Yet after turning forty, this prodigal suddenly found his way and began focusing on his career.
However, he started too late, with the main branch’s power already divided between his brothers, and Bao was ambitious but lacking in talent. What could he possibly accomplish?
Yu Xinglong and Yu Huanhu regarded him as a joke, letting him fumble without much interference, as it caused no harm.
Unexpectedly, today, in such a solemn occasion, he spoke up.
Yu Xinglong did not look at Yu Xiaobao directly but first glanced at Yu Huanhu, unsure if the youngest brother was acting under the second brother’s instructions.
Yu Xiaobao said bluntly, “Brother, Chenglin is indeed intelligent. But he is too young, and you are too old—no, your health is too frail. Given Chenglin’s age and your condition, isn’t it inappropriate to name him heir?”
Such blunt speech could only come from Yu Xiaobao, for he had always been like this.
Yet what he said reflected the concerns of many.
Child mortality was high in this era. Who could guarantee a seven-year-old would grow up healthy? And with Yu Xinglong’s poor health, if he passed away before Chenglin matured, what would happen?
Yu Xinglong’s face darkened. He shot a cold glance at Yu Xiaobao and asked, “Then, according to your view, what should we do?”
Yu Xiaobao replied, “I think Ziming would be a good choice.”
Ziming was the courtesy name of Yu Rui, the eldest son of Yu Huanhu.
Yu Huanhu glanced at Yu Xiaobao faintly. The youngest brother was truly endearing—his attempts to stir discord between him and the eldest brother were as immature as ever.
Seeing no response from Yu Huanhu, Yu Xiaobao tried to draw him in, asking, “Second brother, what do you think of my suggestion?”
Yu Huanhu smiled, two deep lines on his face cutting like blades through sand.
He shook his head slowly. “Not a good idea. My son Yu Rui is not qualified.”