Explore Chapter 81 of 'Spring Ming Outer History' with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
It happened that Yang Xingyuan was in the hospital that day. Because of a word from Wu Bibo, his mood was stirred, and he immediately felt unwell in his heart. After another day, having caught a chill, his illness grew worse. He was a man who cherished tranquility, but the illness was a Restlessness Syndrome, refusing to let him rest for a moment. It made him restless whether sitting or lying. The doctor saw his condition and said, "Your illness is entirely caused by a troubled mind. It's easy to cure physical ailments, but difficult to cure mental ones. You must put your worries aside yourself. Then the illness will heal quickly." Yang Xingyuan sighed upon hearing this and said nothing.
In the evening, Li Dongqing came to see him. Seeing his face flushed and feverish, she sat by the bed and talked with him at length. Yang Xingyuan said, "I fear this illness won't get better." Li Dongqing replied, "Don't think that way. When one is sick, one should always think positively. That makes the illness easier to heal. You're an extremely intelligent person. Can't you see through this?" Yang Xingyuan said, "I can see through it, but when it comes to oneself, it's not up to one's control." Li Dongqing said, "You must try to be more open-minded. You're alone in Beijing, so you need to take good care of yourself." Yang Xingyuan nodded. Seeing him very tired, Li Dongqing sat for a while and then left.
From that day on, Yang Xingyuan's illness grew worse day by day. The doctor came to see him several times and said his condition was very dangerous. It would be best to notify his family. He Jianchen received this news and came to discuss it with him. Yang Xingyuan said, "I only have an old mother at home. If we tell her about my condition, won't that just make her worry in vain? If something happens, I'll be accused of unfilial piety. I think it's better not to notify her." He Jianchen said, "Although that's true, your illness has reached this stage. If anything unexpected happens, how can we friends bear the responsibility?" Yang Xingyuan said, "Life and death are fated, wealth and honor are in heaven's hands. My own illness, I know it myself. Don't worry, it's nothing serious." Seeing him adamant, He Jianchen had no choice but to drop it.
After two days, Li Yun got the news and hurried to see him. As soon as Yang Xingyuan saw her, he recalled the scene of their first meeting at the Pine and Bamboo House, and a wave of sorrow struck him, his tears almost falling. Li Yun said, "Master Yang, how have you fallen ill like this? I was terrified when I heard the news. What exactly is making you uncomfortable?" Yang Xingyuan said, "I can't say where I'm uncomfortable, just that my heart feels very distressed." Li Yun said, "You must rest well and not think wild thoughts. What would you like to eat? I'll make it for you." Yang Xingyuan shook his head and said, "I don't want to eat anything. Sit for a while and then go back. This hospital is not a place you should frequent." Hearing this, Li Yun's eyes reddened, and she said, "At a time like this, are you still being polite with me? Although I'm a lowly person, am I not even fit to come see you?" Yang Xingyuan, seeing she misunderstood his meaning, quickly said, "That's not what I meant. I'm afraid you'll worry about me. My illness isn't serious. I'll get better in a few days." Li Yun said, "Take good care of yourself. I'll come see you every day." With that, she sat for a while longer before leaving.
From then on, Li Yun indeed came to see Yang Xingyuan every day, sometimes bringing flowers, sometimes fruits. Although Yang Xingyuan felt grateful, he also felt it was too much trouble for her. One day, he said to Li Yun, "I'm truly grateful that you come to see me every day. But with all this running around, I feel even more uneasy. My illness won't get better in a day or two. Why don't you come every few days from now on?" Li Yun said, "Don't worry about me. I'm willing to do this. When I see you getting better day by day, I feel happy." Seeing her say this, Yang Xingyuan had no way to stop her.
A few more days passed, and Yang Xingyuan's symptoms suddenly changed. He was feverish all over and delirious. The doctor examined him and said it had turned into Typhoid Fever, which was very dangerous. He Jianchen and Wu Bibo were both anxious, taking turns nursing him in the hospital. Li Dongqing also came every day, and seeing this situation, she could only weep in secret.
One evening, Yang Xingyuan became clearer-headed. Seeing He Jianchen sitting by the bed, he said to him, "Jianchen, I'm afraid I'm done for. After I die, there are three things I entrust to you." He Jianchen said, "Don't say such things. Your illness can get better." Yang Xingyuan said, "I know very well myself. Don't comfort me. First, I still have an old mother at home. After I die, please write a letter to her, explaining gently so she won't be overly grieved. Second, all my books and manuscripts, I give to you. Please sort them out for me. If they can be published, publish them, so I leave a trace in this world. Third, regarding Li Yun, she's a pitiful person. After I die, please look after her a bit." He Jianchen, hearing this, felt very sad and said, "Rest assured, I will definitely accomplish these three things for you. But your illness won't reach that point. Focus on recovering." Yang Xingyuan nodded and closed his eyes to rest.
At midnight, Yang Xingyuan suddenly became delirious again, incessantly reciting poetry. He Jianchen listened carefully and heard something like 'Ten years of cold food, nine corners of the world; the same spring breeze, but temples turned gray,' repeating over and over. After reciting for a long time, he suddenly sighed deeply and then clearly recited, 'A hundred years of cares return to tranquility, only by the Ancient Buddha by the Dim Lamp.' After finishing these two lines, he fell silent. He Jianchen, hearing this, knew it was his Final Rally, and hurriedly called the doctor. The doctor took his pulse, shook his head, and said, "Prepare for the aftermath." He Jianchen and Wu Bibo, hearing this, both wept.
Yang Xingyuan slept fitfully through the night. By the next morning, he suddenly became clear-headed. Opening his eyes, he saw the sunlight shining brightly on the window, and birds chirping on the branches. After looking, he asked He Jianchen, "What day is it today?" He Jianchen said, "Today is April 8th." Yang Xingyuan nodded and said, "April 8th, the day of Buddha's Birthday. I choose to leave today, that's clean indeed." With that, he closed his eyes again. Seeing his spirit waning, He Jianchen quickly summoned Li Yun and Li Dongqing.
Li Yun approached the bed and called out 'Master Yang.' Her tears fell like broken pearls. Yang Xingyuan opened his eyes, smiled at her, and said, "Don't cry. I'm escaping this sea of suffering. You should rejoice for me." Hearing this, Li Yun cried even harder. Yang Xingyuan then said to Li Dongqing, "Ms. Li, we've been friends for a while. Today we part forever. Please persuade Li Yun not to grieve." Li Dongqing, choked with emotion, couldn't speak.
Yang Xingyuan then said to He Jianchen, "After I die, don't hold a funeral or memorial. Quietly bury me and that's it. On the tombstone, just carve seven characters: 'Tomb of the Poet Yang Xingyuan.' No need for titles." He Jianchen agreed with tears. After saying these words, Yang Xingyuan closed his eyes and spoke no more. At three quarters past noon, he peacefully passed away.
He Jianchen, Wu Bibo, Li Dongqing, and Li Yun wept as if dead themselves. Following Yang Xingyuan's last wish, they sent his body to the charity burial ground Outside the City for burial. After the burial, He Jianchen gathered Yang Xingyuan's books and manuscripts, preparing to publish a posthumous collection for him. Li Yun, since Yang Xingyuan's death, went to his grave every day to weep. Within a month, she also fell ill from melancholy and died. He Jianchen bought a coffin for her and buried her beside Yang Xingyuan's grave. This is later talk, and no more need be said.
It happened that on the seventh day after Yang Xingyuan's death, He Jianchen was at home sorting his manuscripts when he suddenly received a letter from his father in Nanjing. Opening it, he learned that his father had arranged a marriage for him with a daughter from an old family in Nanjing, urging him to return south immediately to complete the wedding. He Jianchen, reading this letter, felt very hesitant and came to discuss it with Wu Bibo. Wu Bibo said, "Why hesitate? When a man is grown, he should marry; when a woman is grown, she should wed. You return to Nanjing, complete the marriage, and come back. Isn't that the same?" He Jianchen said, "It's not that I hesitate for this reason. I'm thinking about Xingyuan's posthumous collection, which isn't finished yet. If I go back to Nanjing, this matter will be delayed." Wu Bibo said, "That's no problem. You'll be in Nanjing for at most three months. I can take care of the editing for you." Hearing this, He Jianchen felt reassured.
After a few days, He Jianchen set off back to Nanjing. Wu Bibo saw him off on the train and returned to the Guild Hall. On the desk, he saw the pile of Yang Xingyuan's manuscripts. Flipping through them, he couldn't help but feel sorrowful again. He thought, "Life in this world is truly like a spring dream. Someone like Yang Xingyuan, in both writing and learning, was outstanding in every way. Yet burdened by love, he died so early. It shows that the ancients' saying, 'Those who are deeply in love are precisely our kind,' is indeed true." Thinking this, he picked up a pen and wrote a preface for Yang Xingyuan's posthumous collection, briefly narrating the events of his life. After finishing the preface, it was already late, so he tidied up and went to sleep.
Who would have thought that in the middle of the night, he suddenly dreamed that Yang Xingyuan came and said to him, "Bibo, I'm leaving. We'll meet again in the Western Pure Land in the future." Wu Bibo was about to speak to him when suddenly a gust of breeze, and Yang Xingyuan vanished. Wu Bibo woke up with a start, realizing it was all a dream. Looking outside the window, the moonlight spanned the sky, tree shadows covered the ground, a gentle breeze stirred, and all sounds were hushed. Recalling the scene from the dream, he felt very strange and couldn't sleep anymore. Thus: Throughout the ages, love affairs are all tales of regret; the lifelong sickness of the heart is intelligence.