Chapter 179: The Little Mouse and the Great Mouse
“Was that person just now here to deliver the painting to us?”
“Pretty much.”
“Then we should thank her a lot.”
“Since you say so, I’ll thank her.”
“Exactly!”
“You can already make decisions.”
“I can already make decisions!”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s hang this up on the wall!”
“Since you say, I’ll do it.”“Exactly!”
The cat still stood on the table, seriously examining the painting.
Now that Lady Calico mentioned it, this painting was indeed excellent… He had to admit, the more he looked at it, the more it resembled them!
“Let’s go, Lady Calico.”
“Where to?”
“To buy a hook.”
Since Lady Calico had already made the decision, the Daoist dared not delay. Taking advantage of the time before it became the hottest part of the day, he promptly took her out to buy a hook.
When they returned, he asked Lady Calico where to hang it, and she casually pointed to a spot. The Daoist then pressed the hook into the wooden wall with ease and hung the painting up.
In the room, there were now two paintings.
One was a large horizontal painting, depicting mountains and waters as if it was an immortal's realm. It was full of spirit qi and vibrancy, lifelike and captivating.
The other was a vertical hanging scroll, showing only a corner of the mountains. Yet it captured the gentle spring sunlight, with the Daoist and his cat companion standing side by side in harmony with nature.. Although the technique wasn’t as great as the first, it was still a good painting.
The room had no unnecessary decorations, just these two paintings. However, they complemented the simple furniture and the cool bedding on the bed, adding a touch of elegance to the humble space.
The Daoist stood in the room, facing these two paintings for a long time, and feeling much more relaxed.
At this moment, there was nothing else he needed to think about. Feeling tired from watching the paintings, he decided to take a nap.
***
After the nap, the Daoist sat down at the desk. He then spread out some paper, dipped his brush in ink, and began to record the recent events one by one.
Having studied the Mount Chang Painting for half a month, he had gained considerable insight.
However, most of it was an intangible understanding of the Heavenly Dao and the laws of the world—mysterious and profound. It was impossible to articulate or write down, so he merely noted a few phrases.
The Anle Pavilion’s reputation was well-deserved.
Interestingly, the teahouse had been passed down in Changjing for over a hundred years, spanning four generations. Perhaps these four generations were all one and the same. The fact that the demons had hidden so deeply in Changjing and lived for so long was truly intriguing.
When he began writing about the events of that noon, the Daoist paused.
It appeared as if a powerful demon with profound cultivation and unmatched mastery of the qin was hiding in the capital to repay a great favor and trapped there as a result. However, behind it lay the current power struggle faced by the empire.
Speaking of this, he thought of Princess Changping. This princess, although a woman, should not be underestimated. She was likely the most powerful and wealthiest princess in the history of the Central Plains dynasty. As for why this was so, it was a long story.
It began with the previous empress. The Great Yan dynasty once had an empress whose accomplishments need not be discussed in detail, but her emergence had a tremendous impact on this world, most notably in the elevation of women's status.
In feudal times, women's status was generally low. For various reasons, this world was slightly better than in previous eras, but there were still distinctions over the millennia.
During the reign of this empress, women's status reached its peak; although it still paled in comparison to that of men, women could engage in commerce and even participate in politics, with female officials present in both the court and the palace. Even now, the status of women in Great Yan was higher than in any previous dynasty, an influence that has lasted for over a century.
Moreover, and perhaps more importantly, the existence of this empress ignited political ambitions in many women.
Since the time of the empress, there had been several generations of women who have frequently interfered in politics or even attempted to seize power—be they empresses, dowager empresses, or princesses—far more actively than in previous dynasties.
This was exemplified by Princess Changping, who demonstrated remarkable political abilities even in her youth.
There were even more reasons to consider.
The Great Yan emperor had poor fertility, with very few offspring, which undeniably posed significant challenges to the stability of the Great Yan.
Although the previous emperor was known for his benevolence and kindness, garnering widespread praise, his lineage was quite unstable—he fathered three sons in total. One died shortly after birth, another drowned as a child after falling into a well, and the third, despite growing up successfully, had poor health and died even earlier than his father. This situation created issues regarding the succession of the throne.
At that time, there was much debate among the court and the royal family. They proposed various solutions, while the emperor himself remained indecisive.
As a result, chaos ensued throughout the land.
Ultimately, through the joint efforts of the current emperor and Princess Changping, the previous emperor and the court chose the previous emperor's younger brother, who was the current Emperor, to inherit the throne.
At that time, the emperor was only in his thirties, and Princess Changping was not yet twenty.
Later, the emperor did not mistreat Princess Changping and granted her considerable power. This emperor was more ambitious than his elder brother, with a stronger disposition, eager to expand territory. As a result, he devoted less energy to governing the country, and before the arrival of the state preceptor, it was Princess Changping who filled those gaps.
The problem still lay with the heirs.
When the emperor first ascended the throne, although the crown prince wasn't as shrewd as his older sister, there was at least a prince. However, within two years, the only prince also died of illness.
The princess's heart burned with ambition. Amid the turmoil in the court, some began to side with her.
Later, this emperor fathered two more princes in succession—finally getting more children in his old age. The emperor himself remained robust, having ruled for over thirty years. Now approaching seventy, he still appeared remarkably healthy.
The two princes gradually grew up.
But how could the now impassioned princess and the ministers who had aligned with her be content?
This was, in fact, a struggle for power in the current dynasty.
A nearly fifty-year-old princess, with accomplishments that supported the throne, had been navigating the court for years. The two princes were still only in their teens, alongside an aging emperor approaching seventy.
Regardless, it would surely become a significant event in history.
The Daoist understood the vastness of the world and the brevity of life. It was not easy to see everything in the world within twenty years, and the time spent in Changjing would not be long. This historical drama of succession disputes often took years, even decades, to unfold. He hadn't deliberately focused on these matters, yet unexpectedly, he gained insights from different angles and in various ways.
This feeling was entirely different from how future generations read history or how contemporary people learned about it from books or storytellers.
Being in this era and amidst a conflict zone, even without intervention for various reasons, one would still be affected by it and feel its presence. Such major events were intimately connected to every person in the world.
It was akin to the chaos caused by demons in Changjing, the period of curfews, the political orders arising from official transfers and power struggles, or the powerful demon that came knocking today...
It was only by being in this era and this place that one could truly feel the authenticity of history. Countless storms of blood and carnage had surely passed.
But the Daoist was merely a traveler, even the past grandmasters of Hidden Dragon Temple were the same—unless a clear outcome promised a favorable direction, it was better not to intervene, allowing history to make its own correct choices while he merely walked through it and served as a witness. At most, they might jot down some notes, and perhaps years later, future generations would seek the truth of history from the words they wrote.
“...” The Daoist shook his head with a sigh and continued writing.
Beside him, a cat sat upright with its tail wrapped around its little feet, tilting its head to watch him write.
“...” The Daoist looked back at her helplessly.
In the past, when this cat couldn't read, it often played with the hanging strings of his brush while he recounted his travels and experiences. Now that it could recognize words, it no longer played with the strings. But its current curious posture, tilting its head to focus on what he was writing, felt like an even greater distraction.
“What are you looking at?” Noticing his gaze, the cat met his eyes and even asked him in return.
“Nothing.” Song You withdrew his gaze.
“Then why are you looking at me?”
“...”
“Why aren't you writing?”
“How many words can you read?”
“I can read some, but not everything.”
“When you recognize more characters, you won't be able to watch me write these anymore.”
“Why?” The cat's eyes glimmered intensely as it stared at him.
“Because this is a travelogue.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean ‘why’?”
“...” The calico cat looked him up and down, her expression serious. After a long pause, it finally said, “You’re not smart!”
After saying this, she turned around and jumped off the table, running off to play with her cloth ball.
“...” The Daoist shook his head and continued writing.
The wooden planks upstairs were quite old, not only peeling and fading but also uneven. When the cat didn’t deliberately tread lightly, her running was already noisy. When she played with her ball, she would run quickly and with great force, often causing the wooden floor to creak and shift. However, the cat didn’t mind, and it didn’t disturb the Daoist; it seemed both parties had long since grown accustomed to it.
As he wrote, the Daoist asked, “Do you know what day it is today?”
“What day?” the cat replied while playing.
“It’s the Xiaoshu.”
“Xiaoshu?” The cat stopped, turned her head to look at him, her face full of confusion.
“The ‘shu’ means ‘heat’.”
“Doesn’t ‘shu’ also mean mouse?”
“Yes.”
“Little mouse[1]!” n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
“After Xiaoshu comes Dashu.”
“Great mouse[2]!” The cat's interest piqued as she fixed her gaze on him.
“After Dashu comes the Beginning of Autumn.”
“Beginning of Autumn!” The calico cat became thoroughly interested, no longer caring about the ball on the ground. It instead sat upright, staring directly at him.
The Daoist felt he had said enough and fell silent. The cat wasn’t in a hurry, so she continued to watch him from behind.
Days went by.
The period following Xiaoshu marked the hottest time in Changjing, where the heat was often unbearable, and sometimes it was so stuffy it was difficult to bear. Fortunately, the bamboo mat was cool, with no other drawbacks apart from the occasional itch from the fur. However, since Lady Calico could endure it with her full coat of fur, the Daoist naturally could as well.
Occasionally, when a cool breeze would rise, the Daoist would open the windows of the small building to let the breeze in.
Lying on the bamboo mat and feeling the cool wind was the most wonderful part of summer. In the afternoons, the streets were so sun-soaked that people were reluctant to come out, and shops had no business; the world fell into a moment of silence, leaving only the sound of cicadas.
1. Xiao means little or small in chinese, while shu can mean heat or mouse. ☜
2. Da means big or great in Chinese. ☜