Chapter6. The White Lotus and A Murder

“What do you have in your mind?" Yu Mingyang inquired.

"What about murder? Will that be too macabre of a topic for present?” Someone chimed in.

“Definitely, but who cares. If it's between us, and no words go about, why not? Let’s talk about that.” Luo Chen replied looking at the few faces that had come closer together. The speaker, Ji Si, seemed to have had something to do with Jinghai, either his father or grandfather was in the local governing body.

“There...is a rumour in the market." Ji Si began, however, with slight hesitation drawing eyes from all around on himself. "Someone has gone to the Temple of Injustice in Yueshui in the north to evoke the Priestess of the Shallow waters. A victim claimed that all of her clansmen died, some were threatened, many really murdered in cold blood because they had invoked the ire of...the Elder Council. Rumor is the Wei House used a demon they fed to silence this small merchant family doing the dirty work. And it just became more complicated because someone was really found dead in Wei Jia supporting very inhuman wounds—many in the market know what happened to her ladyship's maid, you see. The rumours going around are wild! Master Wei has been called to the Magistrate office, and may be brought in front of the Minister of Justice in the capital. Since the maid was found dead in her ladyship’s courtyard, maybe she will be implicated in it as well. I don’t know how true it is but charges against them are those of practicing witchcraft. But one thing is clear; the murder was really very, very brutal – everyone says the maid was found dried like a husk, hung from the firewood storage rooms beams, and even the traces of blood down there hadn't dried as much as her skin. She looked paper-white, almost sucked off of her…innards.”

“Which ladyship?” An Jin asked.

“Who else? Everyone’s precious ‘White Lotus’, of course." Before Ji Si could reply, he was interrupted by another gravelly voice, as a figure came walking from outside.

An Jin looked up at the slowly rising head of the speaker. Song Muchen. “Elder Brother Song! You’re here too?”

“I just came from some work. I find everyone’s enjoying this event very well?”

“Don’t mention it Senior Brother– we couldn’t find anything to do and are simply reviewing rumors to find ourselves some amusements.” Yu Mingyang replied.

Everyone greeted Song Muchen and his companion.

Song Muchen came from outside, shrugged off some water from his cloak and invited another person following him to sit a little distance away from the group.

“It’s a perfect amusement, and who knows you people might even stumble across some mysterious case you would like to help the Yamen with?” Song Muchen nodded and then said, “That maid’s case has been put in various Guild and Jianghu Task Order’s. If anyone is interested, they can come to me to ask for detail.”

“Senior brother has taken this job?” Luo Chen asked.

“It's in my hand currently.”

“I wish Senior Brother good luck that he successfully solves this mystery as soon as possible and restore innocence to everyone.”

“Hmm.”

No one didn’t know of Song Muchen. Three consecutive Jianghu Meeting of Young Talents rewards were snatched by him alone, his might and control over spears was famed amongst the top ten young heroes of Tianxin –he was that great. But despite all that, he was mostly known for his weird temper, as well as being a close companion to the Second Prince.

“Prince is back, I hope?” Yu Mingyang asked.

“He is greeting the Elders in the Hall. He’s busy right now so you all should wait some more time before you go back to greet him or the elders.” Song Muchen suggested. Then he picked up a silver wine cup, poured himself some wine and looked up at Ji Si and asked, “What brought out the mention of the maid, I am very interested in knowing if you people would like to tell me some of these rumors. Maybe some information will help me.”

“I don’t know much, senior brother, but my elder brother and father are all working in tow with Yamen assisting them. They would be pleased to know they could be of some service to you.” Politely, Ji Si extended his offer.

“Tell uncle Ji that his guidance will be really appreciated. I’ll come to meet him tomorrow, if it isn’t any trouble to him.”

“No, it isn’t at all. Please come.”

“So, the maid really belonged to Miss Wei Ziya?” Luo Chen suddenly asked, inviting everyone’s attention towards himself.

“Yes, she was and the situation has been exacerbated to greater extent by sudden involvement of the Sixth Temple." Ji Si explained.

“Senior brother Song, do you know more about this?” An Jin directly addressed Song Muchen.

Song Muchen spoke softly, a bit too languidly, in fact, "That maid, when this murder happened, was supposedly being punished while waiting for another trial. Charges against her were, she was disloyal and turned traitor and spoke against the order of Master Wei. I dug deeper, and found that the taboo topic being talked off was a six year old incident, not even that old to be fair."

An Jin was observing Song Muchen closely, so he didn't miss the slight shift in the air. Song Muchen's eyes dulled, becoming unfocused as if chained in a reverie. He turned his head abruptly to meet An Jin's with slightly sharp eyes. He didn't take away that powerful glance even when he addressed others and replied, making An Jin feels slightly...weirded out. He felt like he was under the eyes of a slothful snake. It might have satiated its hunger, but it was still dangerous.

“Senior Brother mentioned taboo? What sort of evil did the maid do? Was she found innocent of charges later or are these two separate cases?" An Jin couldn't help asking.

Everyone was now listening keenly.

“The punishment was meted out for disobedience, it was the reason the maid was in a firewood shed as for the mistake committed, that involved people none of you might have ever heard of. It involved a daughter of Lord Wei, something Hua, some kind of flower was in her name. Quite like lady white lotus. Beautiful. Skilled in four arts and could even talk down the scholars who taught her in the Clan school – an accomplished scholar and a worthy teacher of his time himself Old Master Ou. Never heard of her elsewhere and I doubt any of you even know of her, and you all were just nine or ten when the event happened. Not too long ago is that? I heard she was more beautiful than the purest of the snow, had hands that could paint worlds so mesmerizing the world wondered at its sublimity. That is a tall claim – but the Duke of Weizhou seems to have collected some of her works before – but again, no word about such an accomplished woman elsewhere.” Song Muchen stood up from his position and walked up to the nearby balcony, he seemed to be gazing at the rippling waters of the pond.

The company descended into silence.

“Tales, I say, some made up story resounding in the market among commoners. It has that crass element in it." Another voice barged in, finally ending the suffocating silence. “How could such a famous person remain unknown? How come, we have never heard of this person? And she wasn’t that far away from our generation either. Weird.”

“It does sound too far-fetched. She must have a name in the “Three Thousand Blossoms” at least? Did she, brother Song?” Luo Chen addressed the standing figure.

“No, she definitely doesn’t. I sent my servant to look into that, and this absence became stranger still.” Song Muchen didn’t turn to see who addressed him, “He said, there was no title in that generation from Jinghai or Dajin. ‘White Lotus’ seems to be the only earned title in years that came from Jinghai. And don’t talk of being obscure –You heard me talk of her description from the commoners. She was anything but an obscure character. This amnesia regarding this daughter of Weijia seems rather a characteristic of the nobles and affluent people. The commoners talk a lot, with no idea of it being a taboo too.”

Song Muchen walked back to his friend.

“It might be a common secret that everyone agreed to not talk about. Something ignominious would have happened for that to occur, but it's not like our old men don’t put restrictions on people, all the time.” Unknowingly it was Sui Mo who came a little closer to the truth. “Just don’t let men and women in noble houses talk about it. Then it eventually becomes a void-like gap, with no common memory. What does it matter that common people know of this or not - in a generation or two, they too will forget all about it. Imagine if we hadn’t heard of this…maiden here, who of us would be even interested in searching her stories up in the midst of commoners and what they thought of her?”

Saying this Sui Mo didn’t wait for others to reply to him, rose up and went away.

“That is a good way to put it indeed.” Song Muchen said to others present, as he twirled a porcelain cup in his hands while leaning half-heartedly against the pavilion wall. He had left behind the tea and taken several gulps of wine again. It hit his throat and his nose. His head was swimming by now. “I’ve thought of that too, but that still makes this whole incident a swamp of intrigues, am I correct? I don’t think any of you missed to glean a trace of secrecy and mystery in this jumbled up puzzle. You must have. As for me, I cannot help but wonder.”

There was something in that strange pronunciation that made everyone suddenly stop talking altogether, even whispers died down too suddenly. Song Muchen’s strangely unfocused eyes, his weird smile or the strange way the light seemed to fall on his pale face – or the gray of the foreground which seemed to seize him in its hold and steal away all emotions, became too loud in the quiet.

“The downpour is becoming heavier…” Luo Chen turned away his head and observed silently.

The words didn’t stop Song Muchen though, who was now completely submerged in his own world. Many strange glances were shot, many whispers died. None could arouse him as he mumbled under his breath. Some words fell into the ears of others.

"Where must she be? Where must she..." Song Muchen sighed in a sing-song manner, 'Lie dead,' he completed the sentence in his heart while thinking, 'as she deserved.'

Perhaps amongst the weeds, unknown, forever haunting a mound of forgetfulness. Just like in people’s memories, forever sealed – until someone brought it out to enrich a stale conversation over dinner tables. The thing that woman deserved… may the gods listen to prayers and keep her chained down forever!

A cruel glint flashed in his eyes.

There was something strange in Song Muchen’s eyes that was forbidding them from dwelling further into that topic. A few of them even rose up and walked away to escape the depressing atmosphere. Of the few who stayed, many refused to take part in the conversation while others simply began to pick up pastries, or pour tea and wine.

Yu Mingyang, although refrained from reaching out to Luo Chen, they both were frozen in their places and just kept nibbling at the small piece of cake for a long time.

"Ceased to exist. Poof! Disappeared."

Everyone looked up again to see the companion now holding a shakingly furious Song Muchen, solely with one hand. But that contact was like a chain leashing a beast.

But he still kept saying, seething, clipping each word like he had chewed them several times in his venomous heart that burned with rage. "The world forgets. Don’t you people find it interesting? Just like the son of the Rong’s called Rong Chen? You might have never heard that the Minister of Royal Affairs, Old Master Rong, had such a son. Someone who died a shameful death under his horse’s hoof –! Puch! Isn’t that hilarious! A good horseman who had spent fifteen years on the battlefield, died under his beloved horse’s steps, his head smashed to pieces, his hands pulled off – is there a better insult than this?! A promising warrior fell off the horse and fell so steeply that there was left none of his ashes, nor a memory to recall in people’s mind! Rong Shiwei swore that he would have Wei Houyu's head to appease the soul of his dead brother. Such empty words had never been spoken in the history of the world! What do you say, my friend? Indeed, it's a taboo - like many forgotten people, they too have been forgotten. Or how else could these hypocrites tear into the profit without minding the shame! The Rong’s will eternally be brothers of Wei and Song will join in this merriment too, with no sense of shame or honor!"

Many faces had started sweating cold sweat. But no one could escape this silent disaster. Many knew what they were listening to was just the visible water, the depth of it hidden, impenetrable. But even noticing that such a swamp existed was risking their own safety. Many couldn’t help frowning.

As if acknowledging the awkwardness of the sudden situation, Song Muchen’s friend chuckled and raised his hands to get a cup of wine for himself. He had very pretty eyes, which were now glinting in the mist, but his words were as tough as an order, “Calm down Muchen - it’s not like it's the first time such things have happened. History is littered with such instances. So many people have been buried like this, it's impossible to keep a count.”

Then, there was no follow up. Led by his companion, Song Muchen eased, then others tentatively joined in their conversation. Inadvertently it was again An Jin again who turned to Hu Yanbin and others and completely changed the previous topic, throwing away all traces of embarrassment. Many others, as if finding an escape, started joining him.

“I don’t agree with this observation at all! What are you on, An Jin? There is injustice everywhere in the world. Many things get convoluted as time passes. As for hierarchy – how could our forefathers be unaware of order and structure? Hierarchy is a natural order, one can call it our inclination. Any society will be in chaos if they do not have the precept and order to follow.” Yu Mingyang argued.

“Senior brother Yu is correct – order and structure are important for a peaceful country, village or town. Where am I suggesting anything contrary? I just believe the current structure and order has degraded too much, losing their earlier austerity under the rule of our ancestors. Imagine, a land where everyone could gain respect after contributing something to the country, to heaven. The land was for those who tilled and gave others food, farmers were honored. There was nothing like merchants being shameful, money loving usurers and traders! They travelled and served others. In our times, it’s only the Nobel clansmen who have the right and privilege to enter the Halls of honor and be eternally praised. Jianghu is still fine, as Guilds, because they aren't tied down to too many bloodlines. But elsewhere, a sword which once used to belong to the blacksmith till he parted with it on his own terms, is now a commodity with a value attached to its head! As a swordsman, we cannot imagine not owning it. But our forefathers never owned a sword, they borrowed, then grew worthy of its name and owned it. That is why ‘The Sandstorm’ will always be Lu Ming’s, not the actual swordsman, Huang You who was a Brave hero and respected the sword and sword-maker!”

“That kind of society can only perpetuate endless war and strife.” Hu Yanbin shook his head, “With no one aware of his boundaries or his duty to fate and destiny. True, our ancients never had the classes like we do now– but they had distinctions in the family –didn’t they? When Nuwa set out to make humans, though the stories say the soul was noble for all, some of the humans were truly born of humble soil while others of a finer kind! And they were given different roles too. Heaven is for us all– commoners and nobles alike, but the roles we, nobles are born to play are different from that of a commoner.”

“But Nuwa was no goddess of our ancestors! Another piece of information not many in Dajin seem to recognize anymore! It might have been for those in Daxia, but Dajin always believed in a Mother goddess!” An Jin replied heatedly. “The seven-day churning of the ocean in mother goddess’s womb that became the amniotic fluid, out of which sprang out Tianxin, and other continents - her sons and daughters - or the forging of souls in the water of Star filled River, or adorning our soul with flesh of Soulless Soil. All these are true records in ‘Chronicle of the Dawn of Tianxin’ our oldest book, passed through the hands of bards. Where do you see our ancestors differentiating amongst themselves? We were all born from the same river, our bodies from the same soil!”

“Stop quoting something that our scholars no longer believe in! What are you even reading, An Jin. Are you sure it's not some heathenish account of Nuwa’s creation?” Hu Yanbin rolled his eyes.

“You won’t believe that this is a tale that all our people believe in senior Hu – all the commoners in fact. Only we nobles take Nuwa’s creation of us as the truth! And completely forget that there is another story - older and much nearer to our forebears’ own beliefs.”

“Let’s save this discussion for later, shall we? Those in the gardens are having some amazing games. I am going out with Luo Chen. Care to join us?” While rising on his feet, Yu Mingyang interrupted the talk that was going nowhere.

“You go. I will join later along with Sui Mo.”

“We will wait for you two then.”

An Jin stood up to join Sui Mo, who sat at a little distance, away from the crowd, his feet dangling in the cold water now, his pants raised up to his knees. He was looking lazily at the rippling water, the nodding heads of blooming lotuses and some of their pods. A shy fish broke the surface and jumped.

An Jin sat beside him, then similarly immersed his ankles into the water. They didn’t talk. But An Jin saw his friend giving furtive glances at the two chatting lads in the back. Master Song seemed to have regained his earlier bearing. Or some of that, as he was talking about some recent Jianghu events with others. The previous outburst left no traces.

“I forgot.” It was Sui Mo who opened up, his voice was almost inaudible. “I had a nanny from Jinghai. Growing up, I listened to her talk of many things from here as she would talk a lot about this place. There was this major, major thing that happened here in Jinghai. I was eight or seven when my nanny was sent back. I accidentally eavesdropped on my mother and her maid’s conversation, but even then, I wouldn’t have recalled it if it was not recounted again to me by my mama. Song Muchen's aunt… was once engaged with the erstwhile third son of the Rong's who was crazy for beauty, Wei CuiHua, the youngest sister of Master Houyu. Wei CuiHua was kidnapped, Song maiden was framed and tried, and in a few years even young master Rong was found dead in an accident. The kidnapping case was never solved, the maiden wasn’t found too – it was a horrific chain of events. Song Muchen’s aunt committed suicide to clear her name…A bloody tale of love that left everyone dead.”

“Yes…it really doesn’t sound like something our parents would readily talk of. I did actually know of a family feud between the Songs and the Rong’s of Jinghai. It’s quite common knowledge in the capital.”

A cautionary tale. But for someone who had someone close linked to that story -? They both whispered amongst themselves, seldom looking at the man who was engrossed in his wine cup, Song Muchen.

A voice suddenly broke in.

"The auspicious time has arrived; the ceremony is going to start. Do you want to meet with Wei Yize before he begins the ceremony? I think some of you haven't gifted him yet. Let's go, I’ll show you the way." Rong Yichen, who was a well-known figure in the Imperial Academy, stood a few steps outside the pavilion – holding an umbrella. At this moment, he bent his head to lean in while facing his friends and inviting them out, unaware of the little incident that had soured everyone’s mood.

"Yes, the auspicious time." Song Muchen spoke with sarcasm filling his eyes, but still didn't move. Rong Yichen gave him a puzzled glance, but no one came forward to explain.

"We should go." Somebody finally spoke and rose up taking the lead.

“Do you have an extra umbrella – I think I forgot to bring mine.”

“I’ll ask a maid to bring one. You wait here.”

Silence reigned and the sound of footsteps could be heard faraway.

Soon the fifteen young men filed into the well-lit Hall. They followed the crowd and soon merged in the flow of introductions and greetings.

The congratulations rang one after another. Laughter melted into cheers and toasts of wine. The elders had left the aisle for the youngsters to have more fun. Soon the rain stopped, and the garden was separated into two portions and the rhythmic files of maids and servants began from the inner chambers arranging colorful delights that tasted as heavenly as they appeared to be.

Mesmerizing dishes and charming laughter of men and women, mingled in the air. The banquet wasn't silent till late night, when the house once more descended in its gloomy appearance. As if the merrymaking had been but a part of the silent mourning that was still enduring on.