“Interesting…observations. Taboo- that word does strike a cord. I cannot help but recall our history.” An Jin tried to say but halted. “But yes, you, brother Song were quite right when you talked of this specific…attitude. Who cares what happens later when the victim was but a servant? The reason it would have been popular among the commoners is quite within this reason – they don’t differentiate in classes as much as we do. For them, perhaps the lady in waiting for a daughter from Wei house was as noble as any noble can ever be! They talk of us a lot, just like they talk of every strange thing happening, or of fairy tales. But for us – who dwell on the decorum, the righteousness of our motives, a small servant losing her life is no news – how strange is that? What is news is that she had been attached to someone, who did eventually with her class and rank, make a mere servant memorable for everyone. I don’t condone murder, as I don’t condone the hierarchy that we so deliberately emphasize in Dajin. Our ancients didn’t live like this – another forgotten piece of memory that now feels very close to the term ‘taboo’. When and how we forgot those traditions would be a very enlightening topic of study. If the murder happened in a certain backyard, or it happens to have long implications for our society, then it should be brought forth to light, like any case of a commoner attempting murder would have been. Our forefathers didn’t envision the justice to be served only to a few, but does everyone here even know of this? That the great ‘moral code of Dajin people’ doesn’t stem from nobility, but was given by a great farmer - who would have never condoned the hierarchy we support today. Did any of you know that?”

“I don’t agree with that observation. How could our forefathers not understand order and structure? Hierarchy is a natural order - our inclination. Any society will be in chaos if they do not have the precept and order to follow.” Yu Mingyang said.

“You are correct - order and structure is important for a peaceful country. But imagine, a land where the men were warriors and females were the mothers of warriors - and everyone could gain respect after contributing something to the country. The land was for those who tilled and gave others food, the sword belonged to the blacksmith - till he parted with it on his own terms. As a swordsman, we cannot imagine not owning it. But our forefathers never owned a sword, they borrowed. That is why ‘The Sandstorm’ will always be Lu Ming, not the actual swordsman, Huang You!”  

“If that is the state - it is no wonder we call it the black ages. That kind of society can only be endless war and strife, where no one knows his boundaries or his duty to fate and destiny. You talk a lot but what you talk about is a dream of many swordsmen, but a commoner cannot live a day in that ruleless world. True, our ancients never had the classes like we do now– no one was nobler than the other. But they had distinctions in the family –didn’t they? When Nuwa set out to make humans, though the soul was noble for all, some of the humans were truly born of humble soil while others of a finer kind! And they were given different roles. Heaven is for us all– commoners and nobles alike, but the roles we, nobles are born to are different from that of a commoner.” Yu Mingyang replied. He looked up at the silent master Song Muchen and the rest who, following the example of An Jin, began to withdraw into closer circles of two or three, each discussing their own things.

“But Nuwa was no goddess of our ancestors! Another piece of information not many in Dajin seem to know of! It might have been for those in Daxia, but Dajin always believed in a Mother goddess - the one who created the Moon goddess who we adore!” An Jin replied heatedly. “The seven-day churning of the ocean in mother goddess’s womb that became the amniotic fluid, out of which sprang out Tianxin, and other continents or the forging of souls in the water of Star filled River, or adorning OUR soul with flesh of Soulless Soil – where do you see our ancestors differentiating amongst themselves? We were all born from the same river, our bodies from the same soil!”

“Stop quoting something that our scholars no longer believe in! What are you even reading, An Jin. Are you sure it's not some heathenish account of Nuwa’s creation?”

“You won’t believe that this is a tale that all our people believe in - all the commoners in fact. Only we nobles and people who read, and maybe a handful from the commoners as well, take Nuwa’s creation of us as the truth! And completely forget that there is another story - older and much nearer to our forefathers own beliefs.”

“Let’s save this discussion for later, shall we? I am going out with Luo Chen. Those in the gardens are having some amazing games. Care to join us?” While rising on his feet, Yu Mingyang looked at his companion not wanting to get too deep in such uncomfortable conversation.

“You go. I will join later along with Sui Mo.” Though An Jin looked disappointed, he didn’t hold Yu Mingyang back. 

“We will wait for you then.”

With that An Jin too stood up, joining Sui Mo who had his feet dangling in the cold water, his pants raised up to his knees. He was looking lazily at the rippling water, the nodding heads of blooming lotuses and some of their pods. A shy fish broke the surface and jumped.

An Jin sat beside him, then similarly immersed his ankles into the water. They didn’t talk. But An Jin saw this friend giving furtive glances at the two chatting lads in the back. Master Song seemed to have regained his earlier bearing. Or some of that.

“I forgot.” It was Sui Mo who opened up this time, although his voice was almost inaudible. “I had a nanny from Jinghai. Growing up, she would talk a lot about this place. There was this major, major thing that happened here in Jinghai in the past that even my nanny had to be sent back. No one talked about it. It was something akin to a taboo – I actually eavesdropped on my mothers and her maid’s conversation, but I forgot what it was all about. I was furious they had done that to my mama and was so angry that I hid in her room and one thing led to another, but I remembered hearing a strange tale in there. I wouldn’t have recalled it if it wasn’t brother Song acting all so weird. Song Muchen's aunt… was once engaged with the erstwhile third son of the Rong's who was crazy for beauty, Wei CuiHua, the youngest sister of Master Houyu. The strange thing is that - someone kidnapped Wei CuiHua. She had never been found since. A bloody tale of love that left everyone dead, I remember my mother talking. Don’t guess me wrong, I didn’t know the names of course, not many things were clear when I first heard them as a kid – but later when I turned fifteen, I secretly met with my nanny to know how she was doing or why she had left. She was good, had earned enough money to settle down – my parents, you know, are not that hard-hearted on their subordinates. She had no qualms in sharing what had caused her termination, you know. It was there I finally chained my memories of childhood to actual, real names and events.”

“Yes…it really doesn’t sound like something our parents would be ready to talk of. It cannot all be far from the truth. I did actually know of a family feud between the Songs and the Rong’s of Jinghai. It’s quite common knowledge in the capital.”

A cautionary tale. But for someone who had someone close linked to that story -? They both whispered amongst themselves, seldom looking at the man who was engrossed in his wine cup, Song Muchen.

"The auspicious time has arrived; the ceremony is going to start. Do you want to meet with Wei Yize before he begins the ceremony? I think some of you haven't gifted him yet. Let's go, I’ll show you the way." Rong Yichen, who was a well-known figure in the Imperial Academy, stood a few steps outside the pavilion. At this moment, he bent his head to lean in while facing his friends and inviting them out, unaware of the little incident that had soured everyone’s mood.

"Yes, the auspicious time." Song Muchen spoke with sarcasm filling his eyes, but still didn't move.  Rong Yichen gave him a puzzled glance, but no one came forward to explain. 

"We should go."

Somebody finally spoke and rose up taking the lead.

Soon the others filed into the well-lit Hall.

The congratulations rang one after another. Laughter melted into cheers and toasts of wine. The elders had left the aisle for the youngsters to have more fun. Soon the garden was separated into two portions and the rhythmic files of maids and servants began from the inner chambers arranging colorful delights that tasted as heavenly as they appeared to be.

Mesmerizing dishes and charming laughter of men and maiden, mingled in the air. The banquet wasn't silent till late night, when the house once more descended in its gloomy appearance. As if the merrymaking had been but a part of the silent mourning that was still enduring on.