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Although Cai Yong never allowed Fei Qian to voice his speculation in the end, Fei Qian could tell from his master's expression and demeanor that Cai Yong had likely guessed it as well.
The turbulent undercurrents hidden beneath the surface, the ruthless schemes concealed within apparent tranquility, the rampant ambitions lurking in silence…
Otherwise, Cai Yong wouldn't have appeared so sorrowful…
As Fei Qian walked toward the library, he pondered. This conclusion was indeed far too cruel for a man like Cai Yong, who had spent his entire life upholding integrity and loyalty as his guiding principles.
In his youth, Cai Yong had been summoned by the "Five Marquises" due to his exceptional skill with the qin. However, unwilling to associate himself with the "Five Marquises" and ashamed to use his musical talent as a means of advancement, he deliberately exposed himself to the cold, feigning illness to return to his hometown.
It must be understood that in the Han Dynasty, medical resources were scarce. A common cold was not like in later times, where one could simply take medicine and rest for a day or two to recover. If left untreated, it could even prove fatal!
Yet Cai Yong was willing to stake his life rather than compromise his principles.
And now, he had discovered that those he once believed to be the shining beacons of moral purity hid grotesque faces beneath their virtuous facades.
For Cai Yong, this was no less than a devastating blow—even greater than the shock of Dong Zhuo deposing the emperor and relocating the capital. After all, this struck at the very core of the righteousness Cai Yong had upheld his entire life.
Throughout his life, Cai Yong had walked a solitary path. In his heart, he adhered to the Confucian ideal of "the noble man stands with others but does not form cliques." Otherwise, with his immense cultural prestige and years of service as a court academician, it would have been effortless for him to build his own faction…
This was also why the Cai family had never expanded as extensively as the Yuan or Yang clans, or even the Wang family of Taiyuan.
Otherwise, given that Cai Yong traced his lineage back to King Wen of Zhou and that the Cai family had produced numerous distinguished figures across generations, their familial influence should not have lagged far behind others…
Perhaps this was a critical reason why, after Cai Yong's untimely demise, the Cai family fell into irreversible decline. Otherwise, even if Cai Yong had passed away, and despite the distance from their ancestral home in Chenliu, there should have been someone to care for Cai Yan, preventing the tragedy that befell her.
At the time, the Xiongnu's southern incursion was not merely a raid for plunder—they had been hired by Yang Feng and Dong Cheng to escort Emperor Xian of Han back to the east. Throughout this mission, the Xiongnu soldiers kept their word, guarding the emperor all the way, even clashing with Li Jue in battle. They remained by Emperor Xian's side until he reached Luoyang, only departing when Cao Cao arrived.
But as mercenaries, the Xiongnu were motivated by provisions and wealth. Emperor Xian, however, was destitute and could offer them nothing. As a result, he had no means to enforce discipline among the Xiongnu troops.
By then, Luoyang lay in ruins. Many low-ranking officials were forced to shelter in dilapidated buildings. Cai Yan, with no access to imperial rations and no one to look after her, had no choice but to venture outside the city to gather firewood like commoners—only to be captured by the retreating Xiongnu…
Thus, Cai Yan's tragedy was the result of multiple intertwined misfortunes…
When Fei Qian entered the Cai family library, he saw Cai Yan directing servants as they unbound bamboo scrolls, labeled them, and packed them into rattan chests. She was so busy that sweat had dampened the hair at her temples, clinging to her jade-like cheeks.
Today was the day the first batch of scrolls would be transported. Organizing and packing so many texts was no small task.
Cai Yan had been working tirelessly since two days prior, rising early that morning and laboring nonstop without even a moment to drink water. When she glanced up and saw Fei Qian standing idly in the library instead of helping, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of irritation. Her eyes widened as she glared at him. "Fei Ziyuan! Are you just going to stand there and watch?"
"Ah? Oh—coming, coming!"
Snapping out of his thoughts, Fei Qian surveyed the chaotic scene. The servants were working haphazardly—some untying scrolls, others running back and forth to number and pack them. The inefficiency was unbearable for someone accustomed to orderly workflows.
He quickly reorganized the manpower, dividing the corridor outside the library into specialized workstations. Each servant was assigned a single task, creating an assembly line that streamlined the process and significantly improved efficiency.
With Fei Qian taking charge, Cai Yan finally had a moment to rest. Standing aside, she observed the now-smooth operation under his direction. Suddenly, she recalled the sorrow in his eyes when he had looked at her earlier. Where had that sadness come from?
Was it because he grieved over the dismantling of the scrolls?
Cai Yan, too, felt reluctant to part with them. From her earliest memories, books had been an inseparable part of her life—they flowed in her blood.
Back then, she had been very young. Her father had not yet built the library, so most scrolls were stored in his study, piled so high that some had to be placed on the floor. Fearful that his young daughter might damage them, Cai Yong had forbidden her from entering.
One day, little Cai Yan sneaked in unnoticed. Too small to lift the heavy scrolls, she could only unfurl one as tall as her waist and quietly read. That was how her father discovered her.
From that day on, he never barred her from the study again.
As she grew older and stronger, her father began teaching her characters one by one, and her love for books deepened.
His collection expanded, and so did hers. Unknowingly, she had grown up amidst those scrolls…
Cai Yan suddenly remembered the last large-scale relocation of books—when she was married. Back then, servants had busily packed scrolls into chests, though not as many as now. This time, intact scrolls were being disassembled into four separate sections…
Some of the bindings had even been woven by her own hands!
She wrinkled her nose. Though she understood this was for the scrolls' protection, the thought still unsettled her. Unable to suppress her displeasure, she shot another glare at Fei Qian.