Chapter 828: What I Miss
(I only noticed in the past couple of days that updates on Qidian get a PS added before and after, seemingly related to monthly tickets and red packets. Let me explain—that’s automatically added by the system, not something I said. Feel free to vote as you wish. I wish everyone a happy day at work, mwah.)
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That cushion was neither new nor old, neither thick nor thin—just the common sort found in temples or ancestral halls.
The Second Master of the Tang family looked at that cushion and said nothing.
When kneeling, having a cushion between the knees and the hard ground would make it more comfortable.
The question was: whom was he supposed to kneel to?
Of course, it was His Holiness the Pope.
Countless lamps hung like stars in the night sky, and a young man stood among them.
The Second Master of the Tang family said nothing, nor did he hear anyone else speak.
The silence within the hall continued.
The Second Master of the Tang family’s eyes gradually narrowed.
Finally, he moved. He walked to the cushion, lifted the front of his robe with both hands, and slowly knelt down.
His movements were very slow, very deliberate—from lifting the front of his robe, to bending his knees slightly, to leaning forward. It took a long time.
That span of time was enough for him to think of many things.
He had heard that many years ago, the previous Pope had also visited Wenshui. When had his father ever performed such a grand ritual?
You and Tang Tang treat each other as equals, so I am your elder. How can you bear to accept my bow?
Even if you don’t call me Second Uncle, you should at least say, “No need for such formality.”
That time really was long—for the Second Master of the Tang family, it could even be called interminable.
Enough time for him to think of all these things, and naturally enough time for the young man in the shifting light to speak.
So why had he still not heard your voice?
He even wondered if he had missed something?
Or perhaps the other party’s voice was too soft, or too indistinct?
No. The hall was so quiet that even the faintest sound could be heard clearly.
For example, at this very moment, his knees finally met the cushion, and the soft cushion let out a faint rustle.
But in his ears, it was like a thunderclap—startling and shocking.
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And so, the Second Master of the Tang family knelt before Chen Changsheng.
Even as this scene actually unfolded, he himself could hardly believe it.
He couldn’t believe that Chen Changsheng had not spoken to excuse him from the bow.
He couldn’t believe that Chen Changsheng had so calmly accepted his grand salute.
The sound of knees meeting the cushion faded. All sounds in the hall vanished. It was utterly silent, save for the lamps rustling in the gentle breeze.
The Second Master of the Tang family knelt on the cushion. His heart grew colder and colder, yet his expression became more and more indifferent.
Then, he stood up.
When he knelt, it was like a jade mountain about to topple; when he rose, it was like the morning sun emerging from the water—clean, sharp, without hesitation.
He stood up on his own.
Clearly, this was a breach of etiquette before the throne, but at this moment, he was furious, so he decided to ignore it.
He looked at Chen Changsheng with a cold expression and said, “Greetings, Your Holiness the Pope.”
Not an audience, just a greeting.
The hall remained silent. Countless lamps rustled in the breeze, sounding like a sea of pines in the mountains.
Chen Changsheng quietly watched the Second Master of the Tang family for a long time.
This was the first time he had seen him.
Whether during the Incident at the Heavenly Book Mausoleum or the killing of Zhou Tong on Snow Street, he had never encountered this legendary Second Master of the Tang family.
The Second Master of the Tang family looked very much like Tang Thirty-Six—handsome features, an indifferent demeanor, a natural air of nobility—but with an added touch of gloom between his brows.
“Seeing you, it’s natural to think of him,” Chen Changsheng said. “It’s been a long time since I last saw him. The longer it’s been, the more I miss when he was by my side. Back then, he helped me with many things.”
The Second Master of the Tang family asked, “For example?”
Chen Changsheng took a step forward, moving from the shifting light and shadows to stand before the Second Master of the Tang family.
“For example… right now, he would say to you, ‘Did I tell you to get up? And you just got up like that?’”
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As one of the very few Popes in history who failed to step into the Divine Domain, no matter how gifted Chen Changsheng was, his realm and strength were ultimately limited.
The Second Master of the Tang family knew this well. Yet, watching this young man emerge from the sea of light and stars, seeing his calm face, and hearing his words, he felt an indescribable pressure bearing down on him—like countless mountains, like the vast starry sea, pouring into Wenshui and stirring up endless waves in his consciousness!
It was only then that he realized: regardless of realm or strength, Chen Changsheng was now the Pope. So he was facing a Pope.
This realization made him extremely uncomfortable, just like the words Chen Changsheng had spoken in Tang Thirty-Six’s tone.
Did I tell you to get up?
If Tang Thirty-Six were here today, he really would have said that, without giving any face—perhaps even more harshly.
The Second Master of the Tang family’s eyes narrowed again.
He naturally would not kneel again. With a faint, mocking smile, he said nothing.
There was no “if.” Tang Thirty-Six was locked in the ancestral hall. He could no longer appear by your side.
“The cushion was prepared on my orders,” Chen Changsheng said.
He glanced at the cushion on the ground, then looked up at the Second Master of the Tang family and continued, “Because I hoped you would also prepare a softer cushion for him. After being confined in the old mansion for two and a half years, and then locked in the ancestral hall for half a year, given his temperament, he must have been kneeling for a long time. Without a cushion, it would have been hard to bear.”
The Second Master of the Tang family said expressionlessly, “He is a member of the Tang family, naturally cared for by his elders at home. There’s no need for Your Holiness to concern yourself.”
Chen Changsheng said, “He is my friend. I cannot help but be concerned.”
Hearing this, the Second Master of the Tang family raised an eyebrow and said, “Is Your Holiness only capable of concerning yourself with such trivial matters?”
Chen Changsheng replied, “To me, this matter is very important.”
The Second Master of the Tang family said in a deep voice, “Is it more important than the future of the Li Palace?”
Chen Changsheng said, “I think this is precisely the misunderstanding between Old Master Tang and you. My coming to Wenshui City has nothing to do with the Li Palace. I came only for him.”
The Second Master of the Tang family said with a faint sneer, “Is that so? Does Your Holiness think you can simply take him away without making any other demands of the Tang family?”
Chen Changsheng said, “Exactly that.”
“Does Your Holiness find this amusing? Otherwise, why tell such a joke?”
The Second Master of the Tang family found it utterly absurd. Did you think saying such things would convince the entire world that the state religion had no designs on the Tang family?
The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous Chen Changsheng’s words and actions seemed, so he burst into laughter.
Usually, when describing loud laughter, one adds “haha” or “roaring” before it, because laughter should naturally have sound.
But everyone knew that the Second Master of the Tang family’s laughter had no sound—whether it was a smile or a laugh.
He simply opened his mouth, looking like a mime actor in Snow Old City, performing absurd plots, silently mocking others and the world to his heart’s content.
This was the first time Chen Changsheng had seen the legendary silent laughter of the Second Master of the Tang family.
He didn’t find it funny, nor did he feel afraid. He just thought it was very ugly and very painful—like a fat goose waiting to be fed, its neck chained by an iron leash.
“I miss my friend even more now. If he were here, he might say… ‘Have you gone mute? Otherwise, why do you laugh so painfully?’”
When Chen Changsheng said this, there was no trace of mockery in his tone—only a faint sense of longing.