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Lu Bu and Xiao Meng stayed in Bingzhou for more than three months before setting out southwards, heading for Chang’an as the deep winter neared its end.
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Lu Bu wore a dark brown nomad robe, with a bamboo hat on his head. Xiao Meng was dressed as a woman, clad in a blue top and plain skirt, draped in a red nomad cape, also in the style of the northern tribes. A veil hat hid his breathtaking face. The two rode side by side, appearing to outsiders as a husband and wife from the borderlands, hurrying on their journey.
They traveled day and night, and after half a month arrived at Chang’an. By the time they reached the city gates, dusk was falling. Compared to Xiao Meng, Lu Bu felt a surge of emotion.
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It was the first time he’d returned since being defeated by Jia Xu and forced to flee over four years ago. After the chaos of Li Jue and Guo Fan, Chang’an was still bustling with traffic and crowds, which surprised Lu Bu a little. Yet the liveliness could not hide the dilapidation of the city walls and buildings; the grand atmosphere of the imperial capital was completely gone.
A beauty in decline—no amount of makeup can cover the ugliness.
This was no longer the Chang’an that once inspired Lu Bu’s ambition, and he himself was no longer the same Lu Bu.
They found a mid-priced inn to stay in. Though they could afford better, Chang’an was no longer the political or economic center of the Han, and even with money, there was no guarantee of good lodging. Neither was prone to arrogance, and after these years of wandering, they were used to living wherever they could.
After settling in, night had fallen. Lu Bu asked the attendant to bring a few small dishes and a pot of white wine, and the two dined in their room.
“Before we leave, do you want to see LiaoYuen Fire again?” After a bit of small talk, Lu Bu finally spoke. Back in Bingzhou, they had agreed to visit the Western Regions, and had come to Chang’an to take the route through the Yumen Pass, leaving the Central Plains.
After days of hardship and poor food and lodging, it was rare to have a decent meal. Xiao Meng was in good spirits, but at Lu Bu’s words, shot him a look.
“Whether I see him or not, it makes no difference.” Xiao Meng picked up the wine pot and poured Lu Bu a cup, then poured one for himself.
Indeed, back in Xuchang after settling things with Sima Lang, Xiao Meng had sent LiaoYuen Fire away with Sima Lang’s corpse, saying he would find him “after some time.”
But at the time, those words were almost perfunctory, and soon forgotten. If Lu Bu hadn’t brought it up, he’d have forgotten it entirely.
What surprised Xiao Meng more was: only now did he realize that since parting with LiaoYuen Fire, he had devoted himself entirely to enjoying his time with Lu Bu, never once thinking of him. He only remembered that back in Xiapi, on those sleepless nights, he couldn’t close his eyes because all he saw was LiaoYuen Fire’s figure.
The past, like smoke.
The Xiao Meng of Xiapi was already long gone.
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“Even if we met, I wouldn’t know what to say.” Xiao Meng ate a few bites, then said to Lu Bu, “It’s strange—even if I leave without a word, I don’t feel it’s a loss.”
Stranger still, he always wanted to share his truest feelings with Lu Bu, feeling that Lu Bu understood him better than he understood himself.
“Xiao Meng, you still resent him a little, don’t you?” Lu Bu took a sip, gazing at Xiao Meng with a smile.
“If you don’t know what to say, just tell him how angry you are! Let that bastard reflect on it himself. Besides, you probably won’t see each other again.” To Lu Bu, the past was dead as yesterday. He hoped Xiao Meng could be the same.
“And tell him, Sima Lang and Sima Yi deserved to die. You did nothing wrong.”
Xiao Meng looked up and met Lu Bu’s gaze—hotter and warmer than the wine in their cups.
Lu Bu picked up a piece of braised meat and placed it in Xiao Meng’s bowl. “If those two scum weren’t eliminated, he’d only be killed by them sooner or later. LiaoYuen Fire should thank you. If he doesn’t know gratitude, how dare he blame you?” Mentioning LiaoYuen Fire, Lu Bu’s face filled with disdain. He continued to egg Xiao Meng on:
“Just go scold him! With me here, what can he do to you?” Xiao Meng couldn’t help but laugh.
Yes.
While he didn’t exactly hate LiaoYuen Fire, he did harbor some resentment. And because of the Sima brothers, he was even more reluctant to face LiaoYuen Fire, knowing how he would look at him—that pained look in LiaoYuen Fire’s eyes, as if to say “Xiao Meng has fallen now.”
He didn’t want to endure that humiliation again.
—But Lu Bu was right.
With him here, what was there to fear?
With him here, what couldn’t be faced?
It seemed, nothing.
Xiao Meng smiled, a playful tone in his voice, “Good idea, then let’s meet him!”
He took a sip of wine. “I’ll try sending word to him, ask him to meet me in Chang’an. If he doesn’t show in twenty days, we’ll set off—it’ll be up to fate whether we meet or not.”
A world with him in it—so forthright and direct.
Excellent, thought Xiao Meng.
“Alright.” Lu Bu smiled. Seeing the furrow in Xiao Meng’s brow finally relax, he could finally eat heartily.
Let it be so.
Those fated to meet, will meet in the end—Xiao Meng thought.
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Chang’an. Weiyang Palace
Winter’s chill lingered.
On a late winter morning, sunlight shone into the once resplendent Weiyang Palace, now deserted and lonely.
Snow covered the broken walls and ruined buildings, the whiteness freezing everything. In the dawn light, not a bird made a sound.
Standing there, it felt like being locked in a platinum cage of the past.
Lu Bu disliked this feeling, but since Xiao Meng had chosen this as the meeting place with LiaoYuen Fire, he could only hide nearby and wait.
He watched Xiao Meng standing under a withered tree, waiting for that person. He stared at Xiao Meng’s profile, and couldn’t help but recall a sentence he’d once said—and still believed:
“One must cherish all that remains in life.”
Suddenly, he tensed and looked toward the dead woods ahead of Xiao Meng. He felt it: that person had arrived.
LiaoYuen Fire stepped out from among the withered trees toward Xiao Meng, stopping five paces away.
“Xiao Meng.”
“Brother Fire.”
A simple greeting, then silence.
“Brother Fire, don’t you have anything to say to me? Or anything to ask?” At last, Xiao Meng spoke.
Of course he did! But with so much to say, where to begin? LiaoYuen Fire was torn inside.
After a while, Xiao Meng had to speak again.
“Brother Fire, just tell me—do you trust me or not?” Xiao Meng’s tone was resolute as he met LiaoYuen Fire’s eyes.
LiaoYuen Fire’s gaze unconsciously avoided his. “It’s not that I don’t trust you… it’s just…”
Xiao Meng knew LiaoYuen Fire well; he had never seen him so timid. What was he afraid of? In a flash, Xiao Meng realized a truth he hadn’t wanted to admit.
“…You… knew all along that the young master would never give up revenge, didn’t you? You knew he would betray me…” Xiao Meng couldn’t stop trembling.
“I only found out after Lu Bu’s defeat that he sold your information to Cao Cao.” This time, LiaoYuen Fire answered quickly.
“…So… you knew the second son was bent on revenge, but didn’t believe he’d go so far as to eliminate me—or you?” Xiao Meng could hardly believe it, nor did he care anymore how LiaoYuen Fire reacted to Sima Yi’s betrayal.
It was a sharp question, and LiaoYuen Fire truly hadn’t thought of it that way, nor did he know how to answer under Xiao Meng’s piercing gaze.
“So, was it because of him that you killed Liu Bei?” LiaoYuen Fire, knowing this was off-topic, instinctively counterattacked.
“After the city fell, I stayed in Xiapi to kill Cao, but in the end decided to save him. As for Liu Bei, I killed him because he was a hypocrite with honeyed words—a man whose lies were just more beautiful than others’. Such a person does no good in the world and makes me sick, so of course I killed him!” Xiao Meng’s words were colder than the winter dawn.
Recalling Liu Bei’s calculated malice at Baimen Tower, and his twisted excitement after success, Xiao Meng still felt an inexpressible disgust.
Perhaps because of LiaoYuen Fire’s evasiveness, perhaps because of his timidity, or his off-topic answers, Xiao Meng’s pent-up anger boiled over into these cutting words.
“Xiao Meng… do you really love Lu Bu so much—” LiaoYuen Fire hesitated, then spoke, staring at Xiao Meng.
“It has nothing to do with Lu Bu! I said I killed Liu Bei because he deserved it! You never saw his true face. On that day at Baimen Tower, I saw more clearly than anyone!”
Xiao Meng knew he was deliberately avoiding Xiao Meng’s judgment of Liu Bei, and irritation surged within him. He abruptly cut him off, his tone uncharacteristically harsh, because he saw in LiaoYuen Fire’s eyes the look he most dreaded—pity. Never since they met had Xiao Meng spoken to “Brother Fire” like this.
“…He’s here, isn’t he? Are you really going to…” LiaoYuen Fire was at a loss, feeling only that Xiao Meng was about to leave him forever, because of… that traitor!
Xiao Meng grew impatient. What was wrong with Brother Fire? Always avoiding, always talking past. Was this really a farewell, and still he couldn’t be candid?
…Was it really always so hard to communicate with him? Why had he never noticed before? Enough… things had come to this, and he could only “talk past” with LiaoYuen Fire, but this time his words went straight to the mark, like his arrows:
“Brother Fire, I know you look down on people like Lu Bu. But people like us—do we really deserve to talk of loyalty and righteousness?” After a pause, Xiao Meng collected himself and spoke again.
LiaoYuen Fire was shaken.
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“My two adoptive fathers were corrupt eunuchs. The Sima family avenged me, and I’m grateful. But the men who killed my adoptive fathers—were they not loyal and righteous? You yourself took the head of my father’s killer—did you not also stain your hands with loyal blood?”
LiaoYuen Fire stared at Xiao Meng, feeling this was not the Xiao Meng he knew. Yet the question left him speechless, with nothing left to say or think.
“To put it plainly, we remnant soldiers were just Sima Yi’s knives. We only did as we were told—as long as we were loyal to him, nothing else mattered. But I think you know, the loyal men we killed were probably not much fewer than Lu Bu killed. At least Lu Bu could choose whom he killed. Could we?” Xiao Meng’s clear gaze pierced LiaoYuen Fire.
LiaoYuen Fire’s heart ached—Xiao Meng’s words struck him like a dull hammer to the soul, as if something inside him shattered at the sound.
“The second young master was good to us once, and I’m grateful—but I’m not a Sima, nor are you. He really did mean to harm us. I could only fight back. Sima Lang wanted to kill me, and I could only defend myself. I can’t repay kindness with my life anymore—my life is for myself and for him.” This last sentence was for Xiao Meng himself, spoken with resolve.
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The winter sun brought a trace of warmth to the ruined palace. Yet LiaoYuen Fire felt only a chill. Xiao Meng slowly stepped forward, and LiaoYuen Fire suddenly hugged him tight.
“Brother Fire…” Xiao Meng returned the embrace, his eyes growing hot, an unfamiliar emotion nearly bringing tears.
“I only wanted to say a proper farewell…” LiaoYuen Fire let go, gazing at him.
Xiao Meng quickly wiped his eyes and smiled, “Take care of yourself.”
Feeling LiaoYuen Fire’s vulnerability, Xiao Meng’s lingering resentment melted away.
“…Are you… going with him?” LiaoYuen Fire asked in a trembling voice. Looking at this ethereal beauty before him, he could no longer see a trace of the Xiao Meng he once knew.
“Do you… truly… love him?”
When LiaoYuen Fire finally uttered these six words, Xiao Meng, whose heart had already calmed, was struck as if by lightning—is this fact so hard to accept?
Xiao Meng felt grief—not because LiaoYuen Fire couldn’t accept his love for Lu Bu, but because he finally understood: LiaoYuen Fire could never accept his true self.
He lowered his head, lips pressed tight for a long while, then decided to finally sever this years-old knot himself.
He looked up and met LiaoYuen Fire’s eyes.
“If I don’t love him, should I love you? Would you even let me love you?”
Xiao Meng couldn’t help raising his voice, startling Lu Bu who was watching from the shadows—ready to appear if LiaoYuen Fire made trouble. “That day, you knew Lu Bu saved me, you knew I was in Xiapi, but you never came to find me—because you didn’t know how to face me, did you!”
He remembered that battle, remembered as he fell from the cliff, LiaoYuen Fire desperately tried to grab him, but Xiao Meng instead leaned toward him, kissed him lightly, then pushed him away and, with a gentle smile, watched a bewildered LiaoYuen Fire as he fell.
“A short parting is better than a new marriage.”
That was the last, desperate act of his love, willing to pay with his life. At Baimen Tower, he waited every day for LiaoYuen Fire to come find him.
But he never came.
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He had bared his soul completely, yet received no response.
Xiao Meng’s defeat was even swifter than Lu Bu’s.
Facing Xiao Meng’s questions, LiaoYuen Fire lowered his head in silence. He could not deny it; Xiao Meng had simply spoken the truth.
He truly could not accept Xiao Meng being with Lu Bu, but could he accept Xiao Meng’s feelings for himself?
No. He could not.
“Xiao Meng… it’s me… I’m sorry…” LiaoYuen Fire’s eyes reddened. All he could give Xiao Meng was guilt.
“…There’s no need to look at me like that, Brother Fire. I haven’t changed for anyone.” Xiao Meng smiled freely.
“The truth is, I’ve never been as kind as you all thought—I’m a eunuch, and an assassin; I have love, pain, desire, jealousy, and hatred. I’ve just never dared let you see that my heart is even more broken than my body.”
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Xiao Meng faced his truth calmly. It wasn’t pretty, but he had no obligation to cover it up for anyone.
Yes, he had never changed for anyone, nor did he believe anyone could change him.
He—was still Xiao Meng.
Just that, among the vast sea of people, he had found someone who could accept all his flaws and regrets.
The morning light was brighter than when they met, the thawing snow reflecting the sun so that all Weiyang Palace glittered like diamonds in the snow—a wondrous sight.
LiaoYuen Fire and Xiao Meng had nothing left to say.
Xiao Meng glanced in Lu Bu’s direction—behind the palace wall, someone awaited him. He said to LiaoYuen Fire, “Brother Fire, I really am leaving. Take care.” This time, he did not wait for a response, but turned and walked away.
After a few steps, he stopped, still with his back to LiaoYuen Fire, as if thinking for a moment before finally speaking.
“There’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you. Do you know what’s hurt me most all these years? Hearing you call me ‘wife.’”
He said this without turning back.
In the dreamlike, golden ruins of the palace, LiaoYuen Fire felt Xiao Meng’s voice as if it came from the void—unreal.
“It’s not that I dislike being treated as a woman, but because I know you never truly saw me as your wife! And I once so deeply wished… that it could be true.”
At last, Xiao Meng quietly let go of his final burden, then used his lightness skill to fly to Lu Bu’s side.
“Let’s go,” Xiao Meng said upon reaching Lu Bu.
LiaoYuen Fire saw, from behind the palace wall, a tall figure flash out to join Xiao Meng, and together they disappeared into the broad morning light.
As for him, he stood dazed in the dreamlike palace for a long time before suddenly realizing—
He hadn’t even said goodbye to Xiao Meng.
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End of Chapter 37
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Copyright Notice:
“Memoirs of Burning Dreams” – “Farewell at Weiyang Palace”
Original work by Jing Xixian (Vampire L). All rights reserved. No part may be reproduced, adapted, translated, or used commercially in any form without written permission from the author.
© Jing Xixian (Vampire L), All rights reserved.
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