She seemed to be reluctant to accept this sentence.
For a moment, there was a feeling that penetrated my heart.
It runs through the four years of the Ming Dynasty, and also through the mystery and chaos hanging over their heads.
It was fate, coincidence, or some kind of "cause and effect" that could not be explained by the contemporary civilization. Anyway, Yang Wan came to him. This woman who had devoted her best years to the name "Deng Ying" finally opened her mouth and said to this living flesh and blood, and the soul as clear as a cold spring contained in it: "I live for you."
"Deng Ying."
She called his name tenderly, fixed her gaze on him and said, "At first, I didn't want to empathize with this era. I just wanted to watch you go through your tragic life, so I never told you about my origins. But today, I really want you to know who I am and what you really mean to me."
After she finished, she lowered her hand to pick up the "East Factory Observation Notes" beside her, spread it on her knees, opened the title page, pointed to the author's name and said to Deng Ying: "This is my name - Yang Wan, from another era six hundred years from now. Like you, I am also a scholar. In our era, the sky was clear and bright, the people lived and worked in peace, and both women and men could read. The literary mind carries the world, people observe the world, and people write. I am the former."
She flipped through the book, "Predecessors wrote countless books on emperors and princes. I am writing about you. In addition to several academic papers, I also wrote a book called "Biography of Deng Ying". Unfortunately, I didn't see it published. However, I still remember the beginning of that book - the twelfth year of Zhenning..."
She paused, changed to a calmer tone, closed her eyes and recited silently to Deng Ying.
"The twelfth year of Zhenning was a year of great turning point in the history of the Ming Dynasty. Deng Yi, the chief minister of the cabinet, was beheaded. It was like a long night and the Ming Dynasty finally saw a ray of light. It is hard to say whether Deng Ying's life ended or started in this year. Deng Ying, when I was 20 years old, I made this beginning. In the following ten years, all my time belonged to you. As a scholar, I dug into your life experience, guessed your voice, and tried to speak for you to future generations. In this process, I didn't love anyone, didn't get married, and didn't have a daughter. I only had a literary heart, and I was loyal to a deceased person all my life. So..."
She smiled with her eyes bent, "Do you understand what I mean? Do you know what you mean to me?"
"Six hundred years after my death, are you looking back at my life..."
Deng Ying's voice trembled.
More than 600 years of time and space separated him and Yang Wan, and the difference in civilization created a gap in thought. He could not see the future world, did not know how feudalism was overthrown, how "equality" was born, and how "class (harmony)" was changed. He only understood that 600 years later, a woman named Yang Wan knew his name and wrote a book for him.
“Was I a sinner then?”
He asked Yang Wan softly.
"yes."
Yang Wan's voice choked slightly. "But it won't be like this in the future, Deng Ying. I've stopped writing. Even if I disappear from that era, there will be people who will see you in my writings. It's the same now. Deng Ying, even if you and I die together, I've put pen to paper, I've spoken, and there will definitely be people who will see you again in the early years of Jinghe because of me. I've lived through two lives without any regrets. I was once your posthumous name."
He smiled at him and said, "I have also become your pre-death name. So Deng Ying, I can respect you and love you. What about you? Are you willing to love me?"
She used the word "willing".
From the beginning to the end, she seemed to have never rejected Deng Ying's "humility" entrusted to her. She accepted his trembling and shame in "sex", accepted his interpretation of "love" as "atonement", let him hand the shackles to her hands, and gently led him to the "dead end" he wanted to go.
However, in this seemingly extremely unequal relationship, the truly humble person is actually Yang Wan.
She did not force Deng Ying to have anything in this era, not even his "love".
Because she always respected him first and then loved him.
Deng Ying seemed to understand something.
"I'm asking you?"
She kept talking, her eyes gradually reddened, "Do you know how bad you are? You, you used to be my idol, the foundation of my life, and the greatest meaning of my life. But you forced me to love you, out of pity for your slave. I wanted to hold your hand, but you handed me the shackles on your wrist. I didn't want you to humiliate yourself in front of me, but you insisted on reading those messy pornographic books. I can't blame you..."
She sniffed, raised her hand wearing the torture device, and wiped away her tears. "I, Yang Wan, have lived for nearly thirty years and have never yielded to anyone. I just can't do anything to you. I..."
Before she finished speaking, she had already buried her head between her knees, her shoulders slightly shaking.
People who were stripped of their outer clothes and put on prison uniforms seemed to have lost half of their dignity. The thin clothes covered their skin, which could not withstand even the slightest insulting touch. However, more than ever, they looked forward to pure skin contact and longed to be gently caressed.
"Wanwan, don't cry..."
Deng Ying raised her hand and held her shoulders. She trembled slightly.
"Don't cry, I was wrong, I'm sorry, I was wrong."
He smiled, gently hugged Yang Wan's body, and held her in his arms.
"I didn't know anything before. My father was convicted and executed, but I lived with the guilt. Later, I was sent to the palace as a punishment. I no longer had the status to love my best friend's sister. You are so kind..."
At this point, Deng Ying also choked up.
"I lied to myself and treated myself as your prisoner. I followed you, was controlled by you, and listened to you. In this way, even when I was with you, I thought I was serving you. That's why I read that book. I'm sorry, Wanwan, I really went to learn it. Even though you forced me to do it, I secretly learned a lot... I..."
"I don't blame you."
She hummed, "I know you want me to protect you. Deng Ying, it's not easy to come back from six hundred years later. I must protect you, I must... and what you have to do..."
She coughed lightly a few times, "Do you know what you are going to do?"
Deng Ying did not answer.
"What did you promise me?"
"I… "
"What did we agree on in front of the palace gate?"
Deng Ying was stunned for a moment, then said, "No matter how much I hate myself, as long as Wanwan likes me, I will live a good life."
"yes."
She leaned over and put her arms around Deng Ying's waist.
"Deng Ying, don't destroy yourself. You have to love and respect yourself. Only then can I dare to let you read that little (harmonious) yellow (harmonious) book..."
After she finished saying this, her mind became a little confused.
Under the thin clothes, Deng Ying felt Yang Wan's warmth. It was different from usual. She was very cold today and her breathing was a little rapid, as if she was asking for warmth from him.
"What's wrong with you, Wanwan."
"Nothing... just a little cold."
Deng Ying hurriedly pulled out the quilted clothes that she had not changed yet and used them to cover Yang Wan's body.
Yang Wan coughed a few times and said in Deng Ying's arms: "I'm very tired. I want you to hold me and sleep for a while."
＊＊＊
The two were imprisoned within the deep walls of the imperial prison.
It blocked all the winds in the capital. Amid the autumn sounds that Yang and Deng could not hear, the voices of grievances gradually rose.
The continuous autumn rain caused the water level in the moat to surge, and countless beautiful begonias were washed into the water. Then, they were all carried away overnight.
When the sky cleared up, an old man walked from the river with his grandson in his arms. The child hugged the old man's neck and said, "Grandpa, look, the water has risen so high. Will it flood us?"
The old man said, “No.”
The child asked: "Why?"
The old man touched his forehead and gently replied: "Because the person who dug this river was very smart, he built the river channel very cleverly, so no matter how big the water is, it can be ferried away, and the river can protect the imperial city."
The child lay on the old man's shoulder and looked towards the city gate.
A lone autumn goose cried as it flew down from the golden glazed tile roof, dived into the cumulonimbus clouds, and disappeared.
The child looked at the sky and said, "Grandpa, do you know who dug this moat?"
The old man held the child's hips, lifted him onto his shoulders and shrugged him off.
"The people who dug the moat were naturally skilled craftsmen from Xiangshan, and the person who led the construction... was a eunuch."
"Eunuch..."
The child repeated it in a baby voice.
The old man nodded. "Yes, he was not only the builder of this moat, but also the builder of the imperial city."
"Oh, I know."
The child grinned and said, "He is just like Mr. Zhang. Our teacher in the school told me that Mr. Zhang built the imperial city and was the best craftsman in Ming Dynasty."
"yes."
"What about this person? Is he the second craftsman of Ming Dynasty?"
The old man smiled, and then sighed secretly.
"He is not, and he is about to be executed."
"Why?"
"Because he committed a crime, His Majesty has issued a decree to punish him."
"oh… "
The child blinked his eyes and raised his head and asked again: "If he can build the imperial city, then he is so great, why would he do such a bad thing?"
The old man hesitated for a while, and finally said: "Maybe he has something to hide."
After that, he pointed to the river and said, "Look, the water will rise again tomorrow."
The child bowed his head and said, "Grandma told me, when the water in the moat rises, it will be the day when the injustice is buried."
"Where did your grandmother go today?"
The child pointed to the west and said, "She and her mother went to burn incense."
"For whom do you burn incense?"
"Um… "
The child scratched his head and thought, "That person seems to be called Deng Ying..."