Thousand Verdant Mountains – Chapter 149
Chapter 149
Xuyu looked at the bone and pondered for a moment.
Who could be buried under the ruins of Yong’an Hall? Especially in this area, the main hall of Yong’an Hall.
She recalled that night many years ago.
Because of the symbolic significance of this place, it was well-known and became one of the first targets of attack after the rebels entered the city. Before they arrived, the palace servants who served in this palace had already heard the news and fled.
This grand hall was not like the treasury, yet it contained many valuables—gold, jade, and pearls—that hadn’t been relocated in time. When the rebels arrived, they simply set it on fire before rushing off to plunder the actual treasury. Because of this, Xuyu remembered that when she broke in, the scene inside was unlike the carnage she had seen elsewhere along the way, where bodies lay strewn everywhere. Within the hall, she seemed not to have seen any dead.
However, she had been very young at the time, and it was nighttime. The hall was filled with smoke and fire, and her only thought had been to search for her mother. Considering the vastness of Yong’an Hall, it was only natural that she had not seen what lay in the corners and edges.
“Move it away and bury it somewhere else.”
After she hesitated for a moment, she looked at Pei Xiaoyuan, who was looking at her and waiting for her decision, and spoke.
Though this place was now nothing but ruins, it was left behind by the emperor’s decree as a memorial site—much like a place for national rites. Whoever may be buried beneath it, if it remained unknown, it wouldn’t matter; but now that they knew, it would be inappropriate to let the remains here.
“I’ll speak to Father about it.”
Pei Xiaoyuan nodded and leapt down from the ruin. “It’s too late tonight, and we can’t see anything. Let me take you back to rest first. Tomorrow, I’ll ask someone to come dig and relocate it.”
Pei Xiaoyuan stayed in the palace that night, and the next day, before dawn, the two of them got up.
The biggest change in the emperor’s daily affairs, as far as the ministers were concerned, was that he had the princess by his side who could engage with them directly. Before, the emperor rarely appeared in person, only showing his face during the Grand Court Assembly held on the first and fifteenth of each month in the Ziyun Palace.
Today was one such Grand Court day.
After Xuyu finished dressing up, Pei Xiaoyuan escorted her to Ziyun Palace. He then went on alone to the ruined hall where he had discovered human remains the night before.
The eunuch in charge of guarding the site was already waiting outside with several dozen palace guards, eunuchs, and craftsmen, all equipped with crowbars, shovels, and other tools. The eunuch, trembling with fear, immediately knelt upon seeing Pei Xiaoyuan and pleaded guilty. He explained that the site had been designated as restricted area, and his duty was to guard the perimeter and prevent unauthorized entry. Without an imperial order, he never dared enter it himself. Lately, as the weather warmed, he had noticed wild foxes and raccoon dogs prowling about the area at night. He had just been considering reporting it so they could be driven out, but before he could act, this incident occurred—frightening the princess. For this, he declared, he deserved a thousand deaths.
Pei Xiaoyuan waved his hand and asked everyone to stand up. After they set up the incense table and performed a simple sacrifice, he pointed to the place where he found the bone last night and ordered them to dig.
The location was near the northwest corner of the ruined hall, beside a palace wall that had mostly collapsed.
Though only a remnant, the wall stood solitary and jagged against the sky, its cracks interlocking like the teeth of a beast. Yet judging from the sheer mass of its remaining foundation, it was not hard to imagine how majestic and awe-inspiring this palace must have been at the height of its splendor.
“Try not to damage the wall any further. And work carefully—be wary of another collapse that might injure someone.”
After he gave his instructions, everyone started to work.
This task seems simple, but it was actually quite laborious. The collapsed walls were pressed against each other in layer, so they could only be removed piece by piece starting from the top. Many of the huge wall fragments were so heavy that they require tools and the joint efforts of more than ten people to move them away.
They worked from early morning to evening before finally clearing away the rocks and soil layer by layer in the area where the bones were hidden. Gradually, they finally got close to the ground, but found nothing unusual.
Yang Zai’en was ordered to come to inquire about the news. He was just telling Pei Xiaoyuan that it was getting dark and the princess said that there was no rush and that he could just take his time. She asked him to go back and rest and continue tomorrow. At this time, someone behind him shouted, “Prince Consort! Found it! Over here! Over here!”
Pei Xiaoyuan signaled Yang Zai’en to wait, turned around and walked over.
Several craftsmen worked together to lift up a section of the remaining wall that was leaning against the broken wall. After moving it away, they found a sitting corpse in a small triangular corner under the wall.
The corpse sat upright against the wall, fully skeletonized. Its lower half was buried in the earth, leaving only the skull and upper body exposed. Because it happened to be wedged into a triangular corner of the wall and shielded by a piece of the collapsed structure above, although it had been buried for nearly twenty years, the exposed bones were still well preserved, part from a few missing ribs likely taken by scavenging animals.
No one could say who might have come here on that night when the palace fell—who died in the corner of this grand hall, and was buried beneath the thunderous collapse and engulfed in fire—only to be unearthed again today by sheer chance.
The surrounding craftsmen had all gathered to look. Some sighed with emotion; others, too timid to stare for long, dropped their tools and hastily bowed several times toward the bones. Eager to atone for his oversight, the eunuch-in-charge picked up the pickaxe and rolled up his sleeves, just about to resume digging when Pei Xiaoyuan stopped him: “Wait!”
The eunuch turned around and saw him looking at the half-buried skeleton. After a moment, he said, “Be careful, don’t damage the skeleton!”
Since Pei Xiaoyuan had given such an order, even if the eunuch did not understand why, he did not dare to disobey. Instead, he ordered his men to use small pickaxes to carefully clean the mud inch by inch around the skeleton in the corner.
After dark, the skeleton was finally fully unearthed. Illuminated by the surrounding fire sticks, it became clear the bones were positioned sitting cross-legged, head and torso leaning against the wall. The right arm rested on the ground, while the left was slightly raised—as if the hand had once lain atop the knee, though now the finger bones were partially missing.
Pei Xiaoyuan took a fire stick from a palace guard and walked up to the remains. He crouched down and held the fire stick close, his gaze moving from the ribcage to the damaged fingers on the left arm. He studied it for a moment, then he put the fire stick aside, took a dagger, and began digging into the soil beneath the left arm. Before long, several crumbling finger bones surfaced. Still unsatisfied, he continued digging. The dagger tip struck something hard—he unearthed a small knife, no longer than the length of a hand.
Pei Xiaoyuan picked it up, blew off the dirt clinging to it, and examined it carefully. Covered in green patina and rust, it looked at first like a simple self-defense weapon—one that its owner had clutched tightly, even in death.
He pondered for a moment and slowly raised his head. Seeing that everyone around him was holding their breath and looking at him, he stood up and was about to instruct the eunuch in charge not to move the bones for the time being and to protect them tonight to prevent them from being damaged by wild cats. Suddenly, he heard a soft rustling sound behind him.
He turned his head and saw that the skeleton had dispersed on its own and disintegrated in an instant. The white bones tumbled down, and in the blink of an eye, the seated form became nothing more than a scattered heap, with no trace left of its human shape.
The decay had simply gone too far; the joints must have long since lost all structure, held together only by the frailest remnants. No sooner had the remains been brought to light that they fell apart. The skull rolled with a hollow clatter, coming to a stop right at Pei Xiaoyuan’s feet—its face turned upward, the two large, pitch-dark eye sockets seeming to stare straight at him.
The people around gasped, and then fell silent.
A gust of night wind blew, making the wild grass moved.
Pei Xiaoyuan lowered his head and looked at the two dark and bottomless eye sockets on the skull in front of his feet. Slowly, he leaned over and stretched out his arm to pick it up.
“Prince Consort, please don’t touch it! Let this servant do it!” Yang Zai’en rushed over to stop him.
Pei Xiaoyuan did not stop, but took the skull and walked to the pile of bones, gently put it down, and then ordered the eunuch-in-charge to send someone to guard the place. Wrapping the small knife carefully in a piece of cloth, he turned to Yang Zai’en to ask where the Princess was—when suddenly the sound of approaching footsteps came from ahead. Looking up, he saw Xuyu walking toward him, accompanied by her attendants. It turned out she had grown uneasy when he did not return for a long time, and had come in person to see what had happened.
He motioned for her to stop and not to come closer. After washing his hands at a water basin, he walked quickly toward her, led her to a clean spot, and explained everything he had just discovered.
Xuyu was inevitably surprised after hearing this. She had never expected that on that night, there was actually another person in the corner of the hall where the fire started.
But it was unknown whether that person was a palace eunuch or palace maid who didn’t have time to escape, or a Chang’an citizen who broke in from outside like her?
Also, did they die in that corner before the hall collapsed, or were they still alive and was finally suffocated to death by the fire in the hall?
“This person’s arms are as long as mine, his bones are thick and strong, and his body shape is not like that of a woman.” Pei Xiaoyuan said.
“Judging from how the remains appeared when first discovered—head leaning against the corner of the wall, legs crossed, body in a natural posture with no signs of struggle or contortion—it’s likely he did not die from smoke inhalation or burning. If my assumption is correct, he had already passed away before the fire.
“However, I noticed a fracture on the ribs at the front of the chest, suggesting that he was stabbed by a sword or a knife. And there’s something else.”
He took out the knife that he had just wrapped in cloth and spread it out to show her.
“When that person died, his left hand should have been holding this knife, resting it on his knees. As his body decayed, it was gradually buried by the accumulated soil. It’s unclear whether it was simply a weapon for self-defense or held some special significance to him—but whatever the case, even in death, he wouldn’t let go of it…”
He looked at Xuyu, and suddenly stopped, with a look of uncertainty and hesitation on his face.
Xuyu had been listening attentively, and when she saw this, she said, “If you have something else to say, feel free to speak up.”
Pei Xiaoyuan nodded: “Then allow me to speculate a little further. That person must have come to Yong’an Hall after being injured and sat down in that corner. For him to have done so, it must have been during that window of time—after the palace was emptied of people, but before the rebel army arrived. By then, the remaining ordinary people in the palace were either running for their lives or looting property during the chaos. Who would go to Yong’an Hall to wait for death? Hao’er…
“Do you still remember what Grandpa said yesterday? He mentioned he had a feeling—perhaps Ding Baiya had already died when the city fell, and never left Chang’an. Think about it. While everyone else was fleeing, this one man went against the current, came here, and died in Yong’an Hall. That alone is strange. And of all places, it was this very hall—home to Grandpa’s life’s work, the masterpiece he poured his heart and soul into…”
Xuyu’s eyelashes trembled slightly, and her eyes widened: “Could that person be…”
She suddenly turned her head and looked towards the place where the remains were found.
Pei Xiaoyuan looked at her and said softly, “I’m not sure either. I’m just guessing. Grandpa is still in Chang’an. Why don’t we send this knife to him and ask him to take a look and see if he recognizes it—”
Before he could finish his words, Xuyu had already pulled him and turned around to rush out.
The two of them left the palace overnight and rushed to Qinglong Temple again. They saw Ye Zhongli discussing Buddhism with the old monk in front of a dim lamp.
Pei Xiaoyuan recounted the story of the skeleton found under the ruins of Yong’an Hall, then took out a knife and placed it on the table.
Ye Zhongli picked it up and flipped through it by candlelight.
“Is it held in the left hand?” he suddenly asked.
Pei Xiaoyuan nodded: “Yes. As the left finger bones fell off, it was buried underneath.”
Ye Zhongli fell silent. Finally, he gently put down the rusty knife, took heavy steps, and walked out slowly.
Tonight, the spring moon, round like a jade plate, was veiled in a light mist, casting a hazy, dim glow across the sky. Ye Zhongli stood still in the courtyard behind the meditation hall, hands clasped behind his back, facing away from them, his head slightly tilted upward, as if gazing at the moon. His figure remained motionless.
Xuyu and Pei Xiaoyuan exchanged a glance and quietly followed him out, not daring to utter a word.
“. Master of the Five Willows once said: ‘My nature is steadfast and upright, far surpassing the hardness of jade and stone.’
“Baiya, you always remembered what your master told you. You did nothing wrong. Your master is not grieved. Your master is proud of you—”
As Ye Zhongli muttered to himself with a slightly choked voice, he slowly turned around.
“You guessed correctly. Although this thing has been badly corroded and has long lost its original appearance, I recognize it. I studied seal carving and inscriptions in my early years, but Baiya’s talent far surpassed mine—he was truly a master of the art. This is the seal knife I left him before I departed from Chang’an all those years ago. And just before parting, I gave him that very line of verse…”
He paused.
“He’s left-handed.
“Girl, Xiaoyuan, take me to see him one last time.”
There were still tears in his eyes, but his tone had become calm.
Xuyu held back her tears, stepped forward and took his arm, Pei Xiaoyuan followed behind, and the three of them silently left the temple and walked towards the imperial palace in the north of the city under the moonlight.
When they arrived, the people who had been there during the day had all left, leaving Yang Zai’en with some people, guarding the pile of bones. Seeing Xuyu and Pei Xiaoyuan escorting an old man with simple clothes and an unremarkable appearance, although he did not know his identity, he knew that he was not an ordinary person, so he hurriedly led the people to temporarily leave and waited at a distance.
Ye Zhongli stood before the pile of white bones, and for a moment, silent tears once again streamed down his aged face. He took off his outer robe, stepped forward, and spread it carefully on the ground. Then, one by one, he picked up the bones as if they were the most precious treasures in the world, placing them gently onto the cloth. When he had gathered them all, he wrapped the bundle with care and sat cross-legged in the same spot, eyes closed in silent contemplation for a while. At last, he spoke slowly: “Baiya must have come here that day to wait for me. The world was in chaos, and Chang’an stood on the brink of ruin. He knew I would not rest easy knowing he was still here—he knew I would return to look for him. But I didn’t make it in time. He left… before I could find him.”
Ye Zhongli suddenly opened his eyes and turned to look at Pei Xiaoyuan.
“Based on what I know about him, he wouldn’t just die like that. Xiaoyuan, didn’t you say that he was holding the seal knife in his hand before he died?”
Pei Xiaoyuan was suddenly awakened by his words. He suddenly had an idea and immediately walked to the corner where Ding Baiya was sitting dead, and stopped in front of the broken wall near his left arm.
The broken wall was already covered with a thick layer of mud, soot, and moss. Xuyu held up a fire stick to illuminate him, while he pulled out his dagger and carefully pried off the wall shell.
As the mud shells fell off piece by piece, slowly, just as Ye Zhongli suggested, a large area of densely engraved words appeared on the corner of the wall.