Dreaming of Xizhou

“She was the least remarkable firewood-gathering maid in the Great Song’s Tianbo Mansion. He was a Northern Han prince with blood on his hands, helping the Liao set up their battle formation.” On the night the Heaven’s Gate Formation fell, everyone thought Yelu Haonan was dead. But Yang Paifeng knew the truth: the look he gave her amid the flames of war wasn’t hatred. It was the stubborn resolve of a man who would not look back, even with his last breath as his body and soul were destroyed. Years later, rumors spread through the martial world: the new ruler of Liao had a mysterious state preceptor at his side, a master of divination with a cruel nature who never set foot in Bianjing. Yet Paifeng walked right into the elaborate game he had set up. She hadn’t come for revenge. She had come to ask him one question: When you let me live back then, was it part of your schemes, or were you fulfilling a vow? He was Liu Haonan, a prince of Northern Han, the state preceptor of Liao, and a “defector to the Song.” She was Yang Paifeng, a firewood-gathering maid in Tianbo Mansion, his wife, and the mother of his four children. After ten years of loving marriage, their identities were suddenly reversed. He went from a state preceptor who moved pieces on the board to a doomed “Xue Shao,” while she went from a humble maid to the pampered “Princess Taiping.” In the political maelstrom of the two sovereigns ruling together, they went from suspicion and scheming to entrusting each other with their backs, finally realizing that everything had been a journey of searching their hearts. But once the illusion shattered, Liu Haonan’s status as a “defector to the Song” brought the whole family the most respectable exile the Zhao Song dynasty could offer. It was not like having swords put to their throats, but it was even crueler. He had done nothing wrong, yet he was denied everything. He was not even allowed to see his eldest daughter married. Their eldest son, Liu Shuo, was a disciple of Sima Guang, a man of extraordinary talent who nevertheless spent his life as a low-paid clerk in Huating County, while also having to support his younger brother’s studies. At sixteen, he met Di Yong for the first time and said, “That’s exactly what my future brother-in-law should look like.” More than a decade later, he personally dragged that “ideal man” into the maelstrom of an impeachment. Their eldest daughter, Wangshu, was Nie Yinniang’s last disciple in the Jade Maiden Sect, with cultivation nearing that of a sword immortal. She was taken away at five, then returned at seventeen and announced, “I’ll marry no one but him.” She didn’t understand what it meant to be the daughter of a “defector to the Song,” because she had grown up above the clouds. It wasn’t until the twelfth lunar month of the third year of Xining, when Feng Jing submitted a memorial, that she sacrificed her cultivation to ensure that she, her husband, and their son would all survive. Their second son, Niansheng, was sent to Huating at six to study with his older brother. He was the only “ordinary” child in the family, and for the child of a family of defectors, being “ordinary” was already the best fate he could hope for. Their youngest daughter, Nian’an, was taken away by Nie Yinniang at birth and given to a junior sister who studied medicine and poison. She may not even know her own surname. Feng Jing was not a bad person. He was upright and refined, and he upheld the law. He did what a government official was supposed to do. Di Yong was not a scoundrel. He married his wife knowing who she was. When the impeachment came, he voluntarily submitted a full account, took all the blame for her, and was banished to Shaan Prefecture. Nie Yinniang was not evil. She gave Wangshu the finest sword, the finest dowry, and the best way out. But Liu Wangshu wanted none of them. Yet no one could save Liu Haonan. The thing that crushed this family was not any one person. It was the three words “defector to the Song.” Like snow on Mount Hua, it fell and accumulated year after year. You could never sweep it all away, and you could never escape it. The snow of the third year of Xining covered the whole Song Empire. Liu Haonan went into seclusion on Mount Hua, baleful energy coiling around him. At forty-nine, his body looked sixty. Yang Paifeng sat beside him. At forty-six, her body, remade by a spiritual treasure, aged more slowly, but bearing twins had damaged her health so badly that she was out of breath after walking a few steps. Yet she still held his hand. Because their love still endured. “Taiping and Xue Shao were a grand dream. For Paifeng and Haonan, the road home was each other.” Liu Wangshu had lost her cultivation, but she was alive. She took her son to Xihe and waited for her husband. All the burdens her father had carried ended with her. After half a century of the words “defector to the Song” crushing their family, this was the best ending they could hope for. Dreaming of a visit to Xizhou: the dream is the Princess Taiping’s mansion, which they can never return to; Xizhou is the homeland of Northern Han, which they can never reach again. But when the southern wind rose, they were still by each other’s side. Theme: The true destination of their love is to spend a lifetime washing away the original sin of being branded “defectors to the Song.” Liu Haonan lived three lives: Xue Shao of the Tang, a prince of Northern Han, and a “defector to the Song” under the Great Song. Each identity carried a debt of blood, and each drove Yang Paifeng farther away. On the night the Heaven’s Gate Formation fell, everyone thought he was dead. But Paifeng knew the truth: the look he gave her amid the flames of war wasn’t hatred. It was the stubborn resolve of a man who would not look back, even with his last breath as his body and soul were destroyed. This novel is not about the children. They are merely the echoes of the original sin. As a prince of Northern Han, the state preceptor of Liao, and a “defector to the Song” who helped Liao set up their battle formation and had blood on his hands, Liu Haonan carried the original sin of his identity like snow on Mount Hua, falling and accumulating year after year. His eldest son, Liu Shuo, was extraordinarily talented but never rose beyond the position of clerk in Huating. His eldest daughter, Wangshu, became a sword immortal in all but name, yet gave up her cultivation to marry an ordinary man. His second son, Niansheng, was of mediocre talent and could only be sent far away to Jiangnan. His youngest daughter, Nian’an, was taken away at birth and disappeared without a trace. They are not the protagonists of this tragedy. They are its evidence: proof that even a father who gave everything he had could not provide his daughter with a proper dowry, and that the words “defector to the Song” could crush three generations. But the story is not ultimately one of despair. Their love still endured. From their farewell in the ruins of the Heaven’s Gate Formation, to saving their child by exchanging hearts, to the birth of their twins, to their children scattering far and wide, Liu Haonan and Yang Paifeng always stood by each other. Taiping and Xue Shao were a grand dream. For Paifeng and Haonan, the road home was each other. The novel’s central idea is this: the deepest tragedy is not that someone harms you, but that the people you love cannot live the lives they want because of you. Yet the deepest redemption is not defying fate and changing everything. It is that even when everything is lost, there is still someone beside you on the peak of Mount Hua, watching the same snowfall. Dreaming of a visit to Xizhou: the dream is the Princess Taiping’s mansion, which they can never return to; Xizhou is the homeland of Northern Han, which they can never reach again. But when the southern wind rose, they were still by each other’s side.