Chapter Five: The Matter of Livelihood

Kong Sheng feigned ignorance, his tone cold as he said, “If you have no further instructions, Madam, I shall take my leave.”

Madam Zheng frowned. “Kong Sheng, I’ll be frank. In two days, Xue Ruo will host a poetry gathering at the Wangjiang Pavilion. You must make an appearance and write a public statement of annulment, making it clear that it was your decision and not the Yang family’s to dissolve the engagement. In exchange, I’ll have the steward give you some money and provisions, so you won’t starve in the streets. Otherwise, you won’t receive a single coin from us.”

This was an unabashed threat.

Kong Sheng couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. “Madam, I will naturally leave my statement and then depart. As for your other proposal, forgive me for being unable to comply. Whether I starve or not is none of your concern.”

He turned on his heel, not wishing to spar any further with the arrogant Lady Yang.

“How dare you! Such insolence!” Enraged, Madam Zheng slammed the table and rose to her feet. She prided herself on her benevolence, believing that Kong Sheng should be grateful for her kindness and accept the offer. She had not expected this outcome.

Seeing her mistress’s anger, Hongmian could no longer restrain herself and lashed out, “Kong Sheng, you scoundrel! How dare you provoke Madam! Get on your knees and beg forgiveness at once!”

Her insults, repeated time and again, finally ignited Kong Sheng’s wrath. He spun around, his gaze icy as he fixed it on Hongmian, a palpable and indescribable authority radiating from him.

“Hongmian, you are but a servant. If you dare speak so rudely again, do not blame me for being harsh!”

He stepped forward, his presence fierce and intimidating, exuding a murderous air. Hongmian’s face flushed as she instinctively shrank back under his pressure.

With a derisive laugh, Kong Sheng turned again, swept his sleeve, and strode away. His steps were swift and purposeful; by the time Madam Zheng recovered enough to stop him, he had already left Yang Xue Ruo’s courtyard.

Kong Sheng hurried back to his small chamber to pack his things. In truth, he had little to gather—only a few garments, with a string of coins left in the cabinet.

Taking up brush and paper, he paused in contemplation before beginning to write his letter of annulment. One way or another, the engagement had to be broken. Otherwise, even if he left the Yang family, Yang Qi and his wife would not let him go. One cannot wrench a limb from the body—if he wanted to survive, there was no choice but to yield. Besides, he had no intention of marrying a stranger with whom he shared neither understanding nor affection.

Once an academic specializing in history and classical studies, after leaving academia for officialdom, he had long overseen cultural and health affairs before becoming executive deputy mayor in charge of industry. He was renowned as a scholar-official, skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Thus, when he took up the brush, his writing flowed without hesitation.

“Letter of Annulment—The undersigned Kong Sheng, having been betrothed to the daughter of the Yang family since childhood by parental arrangement… Though we might force a union, it would be ill-fitted, like hammer and chisel. Given these circumstances, it is better to part ways early and grant each other freedom, so both may prosper. I willingly dissolve the engagement with the Yang family, of my own accord, with no intention of repentance or complaint. For future reference, this letter is made and kept as proof.”

He placed the completed letter on the desk, collected his bundle, and left the string of coins where it was—clearly money belonging to the Yang family, not his to take, nor could he hope to get away with it.

Stepping out the door, Kong Sheng sighed softly and departed without a hint of regret or nostalgia.

No one stopped him as he left through the Yang family’s main gate. After he departed, guided by vivid memories, he navigated several alleys at dusk and made his way to the abandoned Kong family residence.

Meanwhile, at the Yang residence, Hongmian hurried back to Yang Xue Ruo’s small courtyard, clutching the letter of annulment, and presented it to Madam Zheng.

Madam Zheng and Yang Xue Ruo glanced over the statement, both taken aback. The handwriting was steady and bold, the style possessed a certain integrity; though not especially ornate, the content was concise and appropriate.

“He wrote this himself?” Madam Zheng’s brows drew together.

Hongmian nodded. “Madam, he left the letter, took nothing from the household, and is already gone.”

“A good-for-nothing like him can actually read and write? How strange,” Madam Zheng muttered, her expression increasingly perplexed as she examined the letter.

Yang Xue Ruo, standing close by, gazed at the letter concerning her own broken engagement. Along with her sense of relief, she felt a quiet surprise.

“Does he think simply writing this letter suffices? No. He must announce it publicly, or our Yang family will bear the shame of breaking the engagement. Hongmian, tomorrow, find him and tell him he must attend the poetry gathering and follow my instructions. If he dares defy me, he will answer for it!”

Yang Xue Ruo hesitated. “Mother, perhaps we should let it go. He’s already written the letter. Since the engagement is broken, there’s no need to humiliate him in public.”

“He still has pride? What pride could he possibly have left?” Madam Zheng sneered. “No, daughter, this is your father’s decision, not merely mine.”

Yang Xue Ruo sighed softly, shook her head, and felt a trace of pity for Kong Sheng.

A hint of coldness appeared at the corner of Madam Zheng’s lips. “Xue Ruo, take this annulment letter to your father.”

With a respectful gesture, Yang Xue Ruo accepted the letter and, her expression complicated, went to find her father, Yang Qi.

On the matter of the engagement’s dissolution, the Yang family was united. But Yang Qi, ever the hypocrite, did not wish to bear the stigma of breaking the betrothal himself and had his wife and daughter act in his stead. With Kong Sheng’s eviction and the letter secured, his objective was achieved.

The old Kong residence, once the home of officials and a respected family, was not as grand as the Yang estate but still sizable. Now, however, the family’s fortune was gone, the servants scattered, and after two years of abandonment, the place was overgrown and desolate.

Kong Sheng pushed open the heavy front gate, which creaked mournfully. Without hesitation, he stepped inside. Surveying the forlorn courtyard, so unfit for habitation, he could only sigh.

Still, despite the decay and filth, the basic furnishings remained. After an hour’s work, Kong Sheng managed to tidy up the inner courtyard, setting aside one room for sleeping and another for receiving guests—just enough to manage.

The moon hung high and the night air was stifling. Sitting on the stone steps at his door, Kong Sheng gazed up at the vast stars, breathing the unpolluted, fresh air of the Tang dynasty, and quietly sifted through his tangled thoughts, planning the path ahead.

He had never been one to accept subjugation. Even now, cast back a thousand years into the grand Tang dynasty and facing dire straits, his ambitions and ideals surged ever stronger.

In this era, he possessed many advantages: an intimate knowledge of history, a perspective and ideas far ahead of his time, and mastery of advanced concepts and technologies. This was the twilight of the Tang’s golden age, as the An Lushan Rebellion neared its end. If he could seize the right opportunity, great achievements were not out of reach.

But for now, his most pressing concern was simply survival. With not a coin to his name and no supper for the night, if he failed to find a source of income by morning, he would continue to hunger. He couldn’t help but smile wryly at the irony—once a leading official, now reduced to racking his brains for a meal.

The night was still, broken only by the occasional chirr of cicadas. Kong Sheng sat in silence for a long while before brushing the dust from his robe and entering the house, bolting the door behind him. Lying on the hard, narrow bed, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep, and did not drift off until the latter half of the night.