Chapter 13: Warmth

Pan Yu shook his head and said, “Brother Hanwen, you are bold and resourceful, Mingyu admires you, not the other way around.”



Xu Xian lowered his head, suppressing his anger. “But I feel like a fool. With your martial arts, there was no need for me to meddle. You hiding was just to test me, wasn’t it? Pan Yu, it seems we’re not the same kind of people. When we get back, let’s change roommates.” He had risked his life to save someone, only to find that person playing games with him, how could he not be angry? He also saw that Pan Yu was too deep and calculating, a completely different type from himself.



Pan Yu walked a few steps forward, coming up beside Xu Xian. He took a deep breath and said, “In the tavern, I was about to act, but you beat me to it. In the woods, I wanted to speak, but you ran off. I know martial arts, but my skills are such that if I act, I must kill. I didn’t want to kill, so I kept it hidden, not to make fun of you. If I’ve offended you, please forgive me.”



Xu Xian knew there were holes in this explanation and wanted to argue, but seeing those bright eyes full of apology, and remembering that this all started because of him and that Pan Yu had saved him in the end, he could only sigh, “Forget it, forget it.”



He was about to leave when Pan Yu suddenly blocked his way. “I’ve apologized. Now it’s your turn, Hanwen.”



Xu Xian pointed at his own nose in surprise. “Me? Apologize for what?” He felt that even if he hadn’t been perfect today, he’d done nothing to be ashamed of.



Pan Yu smiled and held up two jade-like fingers, counting, “You called me an idiot twice, once ‘fool,’ once ‘blockhead.’ You were wrong, so you should apologize.”



Xu Xian smiled wryly. “You remember clearly. Fine, I was wrong.” He started walking toward the academy, but Pan Yu stood firm, shaking his head. “No sincerity, not accepted.” He didn’t move an inch.



Xu Xian could only smile helplessly. Seeing Pan Yu’s serious face, he straightened his clothes, bowed, and said, “Today I, Xu Xian, have offended you in many ways. I hope Young Master Pan will forgive me.”



Pan Yu nodded slightly. “To know one’s faults and correct them is the greatest good. You are teachable, very teachable.” The corners of his mouth held a teasing smile.



Looking at that smiling, stunningly beautiful face, Xu Xian found he couldn’t stay angry.



Just then, someone came out from the gate. “Why are you two back so late?” Under the lantern, it was the old gatekeeper, his face a little displeased.



Pan Yu turned and apologized, “Uncle Wu, sorry for being late today… Is your rheumatism any better? I brought some medicinal wine from Jiangbei this time…” As he spoke, he quietly tugged Xu Xian along, and the two entered the academy.



Xu Xian watched as Pan Yu chatted, talking about everything under the sun, coaxing the illiterate old man into a good mood. When they left, the old man was reluctant to let them go, wanting to chat more about this year’s harvest, there was no trace of displeasure left.



Xu Xian sighed inwardly: people like this are truly suited for the world, wherever they go. He believed that even if Pan Yu transmigrated to the modern world, he’d achieve great things, unlike himself, who, after becoming Xu Xian, just wanted to live off Bai Suzhen. The difference was huge.



But could he really get along with such a perfect man?



Back in their room, after a simple wash, the two went to bed. The beds were in the inner room, facing each other with only a round table between them.



Since leaving the old gatekeeper, Pan Yu had become silent again, as if the person who’d been talking just now was someone else. Xu Xian didn’t know what to say, so they lay in silence.



At some point, the sound of the night watch came from outside “Dong! dong! dong!” one slow, two fast. It was already the third watch.



“Hanwen, are you asleep?” Pan Yu’s voice suddenly came from the darkness, clear and wide awake.



“Hmm?” Xu Xian wasn’t asleep either.



“Today was pretty fun. Let’s go out again next time!” The voice in the dark was full of amusement. Xu Xian turned to look at Pan Yu’s bed, and by the moonlight through the window paper, he could just make out a figure, but not the face.



“Hmm? Sure, all right!” Xu Xian agreed.



Killing without hesitation, though Xu Xian didn’t pity those bandits, Pan Yu’s casual attitude still left him uneasy. Yet he felt Pan Yu treated him differently from others. At first, he’d seemed the perfect gentleman, but later, less perfect, more natural and sincere.



It was this sincerity that made Xu Xian unable to refuse. He smiled wryly,maybe this was the highest level of social skill: making everyone feel special, drawing them in, and building a vast network.



Half-asleep, half-awake, Pan Yu stood before a grand mansion, the red doors studded with forty-nine nails, the green plaque reading “Pan Mansion.” He crossed the high threshold, passed the screen wall. Inside, the noise was like another world, servants bustling, faces blurred, all anxious. Pan Yu walked on, unimpeded, to the inner courtyard, through the garden and a strange rockery.



In a refined courtyard, though it was day, the doors were shut. Inside, a woman’s cries of pain could be heard. Outside, a middle-aged man paced anxiously, ignoring Pan Yu’s arrival. Pan Yu felt the scene was familiar, yet he was sure he’d never seen it before.



A baby’s cry.



The man’s anxiety faded, replaced by hope, then shadowed again. He kept asking, “Is it a boy or a girl?”



A voice from somewhere: “Congratulations, sir, it’s a girl.”



The man’s face fell. Holding the child, he looked up at the sky, eyes full of despair. “Heavens, heavens, do you really want my Pan family to end?”



Pan Yu watched, feeling the man’s despair pierce his heart.



The scene shifted. The baby was now running around, dressed as a boy, so pretty it was hard to tell if it was a golden boy or a jade girl. On the steps, the man’s face was older, watching the child below, his expression unreadable.



Suddenly, an old nun entered and bowed. “Benefactor, I am fated with this child. May I take her as my disciple?”



The man was surprised at the nun’s entrance, but the child said, “I want to stay with Daddy.”



The old nun’s withered lips smiled. “Buddha is merciful. Without small affections, there can be no great love.” She looked at the man, her eyes clouded as if seeing through all past and present. “I know your heart. If you make a promise, your wish will come true.”



The man wanted to have the crazy nun thrown out, but in his daze, he couldn’t let go of any hope.



The nun took out a crystal-like shard and said to the child, “This is a fragment of the Yin-Yang Mirror. As long as you wear it, no one can see your true form, you’ll always appear as a boy.”



The man was overjoyed, trembling as he accepted the shard. “Thank you, Master, thank you. But Master, Yu’er is still a girl. No illusion can carry on the Pan family line.”



The nun said, “As long as you don’t forget today’s promise, when the child grows up, I have a way.”



The man agreed eagerly, overjoyed.



After the nun left, he lifted the child high and shouted, “My Pan family finally has an heir!” The child, not understanding, laughed along, never having seen her father so happy.



Pan Yu watched, smiling, but tears had appeared in his eyes.



The Pan family had an heir, and word spread. “Wasn’t it a girl?” “Sir Pan said that to ward off misfortune.” “What a trick!”



The wet nurse and midwife had already “died of illness.”



The child grew, still so pretty it was hard to tell boy from girl, but the Adam’s apple and voice dispelled all doubt. A celestial treasure, how could mortals see through it?



In the Pan ancestral hall, one big, one small, one kneeling, one standing.



“You are a man, so you must be brave and strong.”



“Yes, Father. I understand.” The child, now eight or nine, wiped away tears. Never again did he cry.



“You are a man, so you must not have a woman’s compassion.”



“Yes, Father.” Now twelve or thirteen, the maid who’d served him for years had disappeared after discovering the secret. From then on, he never had another maid.



“You are a man, so you must have great ambition.”



“Yes, Father.” Now fourteen or fifteen, skilled in poetry and books, already known as a prodigy.



“You are a man… you are a man…”



“Yes… yes… yes…”



Pan Yu stood aside, the scene so familiar, but no one looked at him. Neither the aging man nor the growing child, he was forgotten in a corner, and a great fear rose in his once-calm heart. He shouted and waved, but no one saw.



Suddenly, a rough but warm hand grabbed Pan Yu’s. He turned in joy to see an old face. “Do not let yourself feel,” she said.



Pan Yu jolted awake from the darkness, realizing it was a dream. The images faded, but the old nun’s words echoed in his ears. His thin shirt was soaked with sweat, cold and clammy. He touched his chest, the shard was still there, and he felt a little comfort. But it was still cold as water, never warming.



He turned, Xu Xian was still asleep, unaware. Pan Yu stared for a while, feeling a faint warmth, and gradually calmed down. He got out of bed, opened the window, and let the cold moonlight fill the room. Did the moon in the sky have a heart? And who could understand it?



In this confusion and melancholy, a sudden resolve rose in Pan Yu’s heart. He had practiced both martial and literary arts since childhood, never giving up no matter how hard things got. With such perseverance and talent, he had always succeeded. This gave him confidence, if he worked hard, nothing was impossible.



Compared to all he’d suffered, what was a little Xu Xian? He would befriend him, lay the foundation for his future career, and at most, make him a friend. As a man, one must have a few close friends, Xu Xian was just a test from heaven.



Having sorted out Xu Xian’s place in his heart, Pan Yu relaxed, becoming once again the flawless Mingyu. He composed himself, closed the window, and went back to bed, unconsciously facing outward. Sleep came, and all emotions faded into dreams.



Xu Xian, of course, knew none of this. He was still cultivating the Daoist method his master had taught him. If one had spiritual sight, they would see a golden light in Xu Xian’s chest, like the sun.



This light illuminated the whole room. Though to ordinary eyes it was still dark, the shard on Pan Yu’s chest reflected the light, and the fragment that should have been forever cold now felt faintly warm.