不由 Buyou (spotify link here, YouTube link here) is the ninth song on the CQL companion album, and is sung by Liu Haikuan as Lan Xichen’s character song.
In translating the title of Lan Xichen’s character song as “involuntary,” I turned the title into an adjective, which lends a sense of completed-ness that I don’t think is necessarily present in the original. A more accurate rendering might be something along the lines of “not up to,” since that more closely reflects the way 不由 buyou is used in sentence construction. In the lyrics of this song, the construction is almost always 不由我 buyou wo / “it’s not up to me” or “it’s not subject to my control.” By stripping away the first-person pronoun, the title of Lan Xichen’s character song emphasizes how little control anyone, not just Lan Xichen, might have over their own life.
Like the title of Lan Wangji’s character song, Lan Xichen’s is also a two-character construction beginning with a negation particle.
Mixing:钱昱寰 Qian Yuhuan and 李明基 Li Mingji @Windbell Project
Producer: Windbell Project / 黄喜Luffy Huang
Supervisor : 黄喜Luffy Huang / 王鑫 Wang Xin
Performed by: 刘海宽 Liu Haikuan
LYRICS + TRANSLATION:
叶婆娑 / The leaves swirl and dance
往事如烟过 / Past affairs dissolve like smoke
天涯喧嚣不似昨 / The tumult across the world is unlike that of yesterday
云深处[1] 起风波 / Deep in the clouds, troubled winds and waves rise
至交渐零落 / Close friends dwindle day by day
来时光景何洒脱[2] / How carefree and unrestrained we were, at the beginning
不欲染尘[3] / I did not wish to be touched by dust
染尘不由我[4] / but that was involuntary
冰雪颜色是心魄 / Ice and snow are the colors of my soul
不欲恩仇 / I did not wish to be embroiled in favors and feuds
恩仇谁能躲 / but who can hide from them
怕这万般由来错 / Perhaps these ten thousand affairs are the origin of all mistakes
清风入夜来 / The cool wind comes with the night
涤尽江湖兴衰[5] / washing away the jianghu’s rises and falls
只是过往人已不在[6] / Only the people of days past—no longer here
抚琴问明月 / Playing the zither, I ask the bright moon
流岁添几分感慨 / “How many sorrowful sighs do the passing years add?”
抵不住 世间百态 / Unable to outweigh the hundred forms of this mortal realm
山水阔 / Mountains and rivers, broad and vast
纵横来泼墨 / Sweeping strokes of ink-splash paintings
咫尺难分清与浊[7] / Up close, separating the clear from the muddied is difficult
少年郎 把酒说 / As young men, we raised our wine, saying
歧路不为多[8] / “May our crossroads be few!”
是非处 终要道破 / At the locus of right and wrong, all must eventually be revealed
不欲刀剑 / I did not wish to wield blade and sword
刀剑不由我 / but that was involuntary
一曲洞箫怎寄托[9] / How can a single song from the xiao carry my grief?
不欲遮眼 / I did not wish for covered eyes
遮眼有因果[10] / but I face the consequences
纵是爱恨天定夺 / Even if love and hate are decided by the will of heaven
清风入夜来 / The cool wind comes with the night
涤尽江湖兴衰 / washing away the jianghu’s rises and falls
只是过往人已不在 / Only the people of days past—no longer here
抚琴问明月 / Playing the zither, I ask the bright moon
流岁添几分感慨 / “How many sorrowful sighs do the passing years add?”
抵不住 世间百态 / Unable to outweigh the hundred forms of this mortal realm
ANNOTATIONS:
[1] As in 无羁 Wuji and不忘 Buwang, I’ve elected to translate 云深 yunshen as “deep in the clouds,” rather than “Cloud Recesses.”
[2] This line—来时光景何洒脱—is ambiguous enough to have multiple interpretations: it could be a past-facing sigh, wondering at the untroubled days of before (“How carefree and unrestrained we were, at the beginning” or, more literally, “initially upon our arrival”) or a future-facing question, asking the moon in equal parts grief and helplessness (“How can I be carefree and unrestrained in the coming days?”).
[3] I’ve translated 染尘 ranchen here as “touched by dust,” but I think the symbolic valences of these words can be teased out a bit more. The character 尘 chen / dust is likely familiar to us from its past usage in 无羁 Wuji, 赤子 Chizi, 恨别 Henbie, and 避尘 Bichen (the name of Lan Wangji’s sword) as dust symbolic of the mortal realm. 染 ran / “to dye, stain,” is somewhat new, but the visual metaphors of staining something that was once pure are pretty easily transferable. The binome 染尘 ranchen in the context of Buddhism also specifically refers to a member of a monastic order returning to non-monastic life—a kind of permanent staining of their person/character.
[4] A fuller translation of the lines 不欲染尘 染尘不由我 might be “I did not wish to be touched by dust / but getting touched by dust is not up to me.” Not the most elegant or poetic of sentence structures in English, but you get a better idea of the way repetition is being utilized in concert with 不由 buyou sentence construction. Subsequent lines of parallel structure (e.g. 不欲刀剑 刀剑不由我 / “I did not wish to wield blade and sword but that was involuntary”) might be similarly rendered (“I did not wish [to wield] blade and sword / but [wielding] blade and sword is not up to me”).
[5] I’ve rendered 兴衰 xingshuai here as “rises and falls,” but I wanted to emphasize how dramatic 兴衰 xingshuai really is. For context, it’s often used to describe the rise and fall of cities, kingdoms, dynasties, and empires.
[6] The line 只是过往人已不在 / “Only the people of days past—no longer here” evokes two literary references off the top of my head. The first is a line from 词 ci poet 李煜 Li Yu’s final poem, 《虞美人·春花秋月何时了》 “When Will the Turning of the Seasons End.” In it, the final ruler of Southern Tang mourns all that time has taken from him, writing that 雕栏玉砌应犹在 只是朱颜改 / “the intricately-carved banisters and jade steps should still be there / only the rosy faces have changed…” A few centuries later, legendary Song Dynasty poetess 李清照 Li Qingzhao, in one of her 词 ci poems, coins the chengyu 物是人非 wushi renfei / “things are still the same, but all the people have changed.” This chengyu is generally used to express the melancholy and existential nostalgia of returning to a place that looks the same, but is now populated by different people from the ones in the poet’s memories.
[7] A few notes on these lines: first, I want to highlight how cool this ink-splash painting metaphor is. The first line/three characters evokes the vastness of natural scenery and the unchanging nature of the mountains and rivers, which resonates/contrasts with the chorus’s thematic focus on political turmoil in the human realm, the rapidity of change and its attendant sorrows. In the next line, the lyrics take this sweeping imagery and shift it from natural spectacle to artistic effect, tying the moment to Lan Xichen as he gazes at an ink-splash painting of a landscape. The third line then uses the metaphor of landscape painting to bring us back to the thematic narrative of the song—咫尺难分清与浊 / Up close, separating the clear from the muddied is difficult. 清浊 qingzhuo, literally “clear, muddied,” contains figurative and moral valences of opposites (i.e. good and evil, excellent and inferior, high and low, etc.).
[8] 歧路 qilu is actually less “crossroads” and more “fork in the road,” but both are traditional places to part from friends. In addition, 歧路 qilu has a valence of not just a different road taken, but the wrong road taken (in opposition to 正途 zhengtu / the correct or righteous road). This could, conceivably, be a reference to a line from Li Bai’s 《行路难三首》: 行路难!行路难!多歧路,今安在?/ “The road is hard! The road is hard! There are many forks in the road; where am I today?”
[9] The line 一曲洞箫怎寄托 / “How can a single song from the xiao carry my grief?” is playing on the chengyu 寄托哀思 jituo aisi / (Pleco gloss) “to give expression to one’s grief over someone’s death.”
[10] These two lines are spectacularly ambiguous; 遮眼 zheyan, here, is likely an abbreviation of the chengyu 遮人眼目 zherenyanmu, which means “to cover people’s eyes” (i.e. to engage in deceptive behavior). What’s left ambiguous in the line here is whether Lan Xichen is the one performing deceptive behavior, or if he is the recipient of such hoodwinking. Regardless, the second line—遮眼有因果—might be more literally rendered as “covered eyes have consequences.” Though 因果 yinguo in its daily usage is something along the lines of “causes and effects,” the binome takes on the valence of “karma/karmic retribution” when read in a Buddhist context.
ONCE MORE WITH CLARITY VERSION:
The leaves swirl and dance
Past affairs dissolve like smoke
The tumult across the world is unlike that of yesterday
Deep in the clouds, troubled winds and waves rise
Close friends dwindle day by day
How carefree and unrestrained we were, at the beginning
I did not wish to be touched by dust
but that was involuntary
Ice and snow are the colors of my soul
I did not wish to be embroiled in favors and feuds
but who can hide from them
Perhaps these ten thousand affairs are the origin of all mistakes
The cool wind comes with the night
washing away the jianghu’s rises and falls
Only the people of days past—no longer here
Playing the zither, I ask the bright moon
“How many sorrowful sighs do the passing years add?”
Unable to outweigh the hundred forms of this mortal realm
Mountains and rivers, broad and vast
Sweeping strokes of ink-splash paintings
Up close, separating the clear from the muddied is difficult
As young men, we raised our wine, saying
“May our crossroads be few!”
At the locus of right and wrong, all must eventually be revealed
I did not wish to wield blade and sword
but that was involuntary
How can a single song from the xiao carry my grief?
I did not wish for covered eyes
but I face the consequences
Even if love and hate are decided by the will of heaven
The cool wind comes with the night
washing away the jianghu’s rises and falls
Only the people of days past—no longer here
Playing the zither, I ask the bright moon
“How many sorrowful sighs do the passing years add?”
Unable to outweigh the hundred forms of this mortal realm
With Wen Ning sprinting along, Wei WuXian led them straight to the Guanyin Temple in the middle of the city. When he and Lan WangJi had scouted out the layout of the temple during the day, they had planned to come investigate it further at nighttime, breach the array in the temple, find out exactly what was sealed within it, and see if it could be used against Jin GuangYao. However, not only had Wei WuXian slept all the way till five in the afternoon, but ‘that’ had also happened soon afterwards. Thus, their original plan was completely ruined. Right now, with all the pent up frustration within him looking for outlet, Wei WuXian was itching to stir up some trouble for Jin GuangYao.
It was deep into the night and the city was quiet. It was already past curfew for most households, and the gate of the Guanyin Temple was shut. Looking from outside the temple’s walls, the inner courtyard appeared pitch black. Wei WuXian leaped up the wall in two strides. Right before he reached the top of the wall, however, he suddenly paused and thought, ‘Something’s not right.’
Wen Ning paused as well, and said quietly, “There’s a barrier here.”
Wei WuXian made a hand gesture to Wen Ning and the two of them landed soundlessly back down on the ground. Leaving the gate, they circled to the Guanyin Temple’s back. Finding an inconspicuous corner, they carefully scaled the wall. Hiding behind a roof beast[2], they peeked at the courtyard below.
Just one glance and they were both stunned.
With all the lights and fires burning bright within, the Guanyin Temple was filled with people. Half of the people were monks. The other half were cultivators dressed in robes of Sparks Amidst Snow. The two groups were standing mixed and mingled. Some were holding bows, others had swords in their hands. Alert and vigilant, they seemed to be guarding something, and periodically exchanged words with one another. However, since the entire perimeter of the Guanyin Temple had been bound by a special barrier, the temple within appeared pitch black and dead quiet from outside the temple’s walls. None of the light or noises carried beyond the barrier.
But what had stunned Wei WuXian wasn’t the barrier, the cultivators or those fake monks. What had stunned him was the man dressed in white standing in the middle of the courtyard.
Lan XiChen.
Lan XiChen was not restrained in any way. Even his sword and his xiao[3], Liebing[4], were still strapped by his waist. Standing amongst the group of people calmly, the other cultivators and monks all seemed to be treating Lan XiChen with dignity and respect, even answering to his every word.
After observing for a while, Wei WuXian said to Wen Ning quietly, “Go back to the inn right now and bring HanGuang-Jun here immediately!”
Nodding, Wen Ning disappeared at once. Jin GuangYao was nowhere in sight, and Wei WuXian had no idea if he was here or not, and whether if the Stygian Tiger Seal was in his hands. Thinking, Wei WuXian bit his own finger, breaking the skin, and held his bleeding finger to the mouth of the Spirit-Trapping Pouch by his waist. He was planning to lure out a few small ghosts to help him summon over some evil beings in secret. Little had he expected to suddenly hear a series of dog barks coming from the end of the street beyond the Guanyin Temple’s walls.
Wei WuXian was immediately scared witless.
Blinding terror ripped at him from within as he fought the urge to flee for his life. Trembling, Wei WuXian hugged onto the roof beast tightly. As the dog’s barking drew closer and closer, terror engulfed Wei WuXian’s heart. ‘Save me, Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, save me!’ He couldn’t help but repeat this in his heart like a mantra.
As if drawing courage from the thought and the name in his head, Wei WuXian forced his shuddering self to remain calm. He prayed to the Heaven and the earth for the dog to be a masterless, orphaned dog that would quickly wander away, but fate was less kind than he had hoped. Along with the dog’s barks came the voice of a young man, saying, “Fairy, shut up! Do you want to wake up this entire street in the middle of the night?!”
Jin Ling!
Lan XiChen became startled at once. Those cultivators from the Lanling Jin Sect probably all recognized the voice of Lanling’s Young Master. Exchanging looks among themselves, they drew their bows, arrows ready. Jin Ling’s voice quickly grew closer and closer, and it wasn’t long before he was right outside of the Guanyin Temple’s gate, saying, “Shh! Shh! If you bark again I’ll stew you! ......Where exactly are you bringing me?”
Wei WuXian’s heart leaped through the moon over a thousand terror, ‘Jin Ling, you unlucky child! Hurry up and leave this place!!!’
But Jin Ling stopped right outside the Guanyin Temple’s gate, and Fairy was still howling madly, seemingly roaming in circles and pawing at the ground and the wall. Confused, Jin Ling asked, “It’s here?”
A moment of silence later, he actually knocked on the gate, asking, “Is anyone here?!”
Within the courtyard, all the cultivators were attentive and high-strung. With arrows drawn on their bows, they aimed at the gate, holding the bowstring tight, waiting for an order. Lan XiChen said quietly, “Don’t hurt him!”
His voice wouldn’t carry outside of the barrier, yet no one lowered their guard or their bow. Jin Ling seemed to have sensed the peculiarity of the place as well. Even if there were no night guards by the temple’s gate, someone ought to have been woken up already by those thundering, banging noises he had made against the gate. It made little sense for the temple to still be engulfed in silence. Thus, Jin Ling stopped making noise. Just as Wei WuXian was about to let go of the breath of air he’d been holding, a wave of barks was suddenly heard from outside the walls again. Jin Ling’s voice was filled with irritation, “Hey, why are you heading back all of a sudden?!”
Wei WuXian was delighted, ‘Good Fairy!!!’
Jin Ling yelled, “Fairy! Come back! Fuck!”
Wei WuXian prayed in his heart, ‘My little lord, just hurry up and get out of here with your dog!!! I beg of you!!!’
Yet, a few moments later, the almost unnoticeable rustling sound of rocks and powder could be heard. At first, Wei WuXian couldn’t identify what the sound was. A moment later, he was suddenly drenched in cold sweat, ‘Shit, that little brat’s climbing the wall!’
The moment Jin Ling reached the top of the wall, he was confronted by an entire courtyard of bows drawn and aimed at him. His pupils shrunk instantly. One of the monks had either never seen Jin Ling before or had already prepared to annihilate any and all intruders. The monk released his bowstring and the arrow soared towards Jin Ling!
Hearing the distinct, crisp sound that the bowstring had made in the air, Wei WuXian knew right away that the wielder of the bow possessed exceptional skills. If the arrow were to reach Jin Ling, it’d pierce through his chest and break his bones for sure. Right now, there was only one thing that Wei WuXian could use a projectile to block the arrow for Jin Ling. With no time to hesitate, Wei WuXian leaped onto the wall and cast it into the air, shouting, “Jin Ling, run!”
The thing he had cast out was the bamboo flute he’d been carrying with him ever since he’d returned to life. It collided against the arrow, shattering into pieces upon impact, and knocked the arrow off its course. Jin Ling’s figure disappeared from the wall. He’d probably ran away. Meanwhile, since Wei WuXian had exposed his position, more than a hundred arrow flew his way like a wave of sharp rain, turning the roof beast he was hiding behind into a spiky hedgehog. Wei WuXian silently praised his luck of having something to hide behind. None of these people had poor aim and their cultivation were likely also not bad. Whether Jin Ling could successfully outrun these people still remained a concern. Leaping down the wall, Wei WuXian made a loop with his fingers and was just about to blow a whistle when he heard a laughing voice behind his back, saying, “I would advice Young Master Wei otherwise. A shattered flute is no big deal, but a severed finger or tongue would be a lot more uncomfortable.”
Putting his hand down, Wei WuXian agreed, “Very reasonable advice.”
The person responded, “Shall we?”
Wei WuXian nodded and remarked, “Sect Leader Jin is too kind.”
Jin GuangYao smiled and said, “It’s only proper.”
They circled around the temple’s grounds on foot as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Upon arriving in front of the main temple, Wei WuXian was speechless.
The gate of the temple was already open. As expected, Jin Ling had not succeeded in escaping. Held at sword point by a few monks, he hesitated for a moment before calling, “Youngest Uncle.”
Jin GuangYao simply replied, “Hey there, A-Ling.”
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Footnotes:
[1]: Hensheng: 恨生, the name of Jin GuangYao’s sword. Broadly means “hate life”. Not sure if this suggests a hatred for his own life, a hatred for living itself, or a hatred for other people who are alive.
[2]: Roof beast: 檐兽 are a type of Chinese roof decoration located on the ridgeline of a building’s roof.
[3]: Xiao: 箫 or 洞箫 is a Chinese instrument shaped like a vertical flute.
[4]: Liebing: 裂冰 is the name of Lan XiChen’s xiao. Broadly means “cracking ice”.
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Edited: @light-salami thanks for finding the typo!