Cannot swallow.
If we’re talking about anger, he is the one with so much pent-up resentment that he cannot swallow.
Gao Lingjun let out a long sigh and slowly sat down.
Prince Ping, in whom he had placed great hope, was dead; the Emperor, whom he could rely on, had fallen into a coma. All that remained was an elderly Empress Dowager and a foolish, witless idiot.
And now, his own son was dead – clear and certain in his heart – yet he could not tear the murderer to pieces right then and there.
But what if he couldn’t swallow it? If he couldn’t spit it out, he had no choice but to swallow it. Could a person really be suffocated by a single breath of anger?
“Your Majesty,” he said, “in this matter, I was wrong. Shi’si was indeed killed because of me.”
Was he being lenient with others while strict with himself? But this was not the time for that.
The Empress Dowager looked at Gao Lingjun in surprise. That was the pain of losing a child – could it be that the shock had addled his mind?
“Impetuous,” Gao Lingjun continued, “I was far too reckless this time. I repeatedly told myself that matters concerning Duke Jin’an and that girl were trivial and could be set aside for now. Yet, when I heard that Duke Jin’an and his party were leaving the capital, I allowed myself to be swayed…”
If he hadn’t been so hasty in ambushing and killing them, Gao Shi’si would not have ended up ambushed and killed by them instead.
Or if he had waited until they had traveled farther before acting, it might not have backfired so badly. Because the area near the capital was under tight surveillance and meticulous arrangements, any mishap there would leave him wounded and unable to voice his grievances.
His Shi’si… At this point, Gao Lingjun lifted his sleeve to wipe away tears.
The Empress Dowager had long since begun to weep.
“This isn’t recklessness,” she said, rising to her feet. “This is because it’s too late. He should have been killed long ago, before he grew into such a threat that we are now being devoured by the tiger we raised ourselves.” As she spoke, she stood up. “Have him arrested and brought back immediately.”
“Your Majesty!” Gao Lingjun raised his voice, his tone edged with anger. “What tiger is he? He is no tiger at all – he’s nothing but a monkey! Only when there are no tigers in the mountains can he parade around as the king! As long as a true tiger exists, even if he leaps and bounds about, he remains nothing but a monkey!”
This was the first time Gao Lingjun had ever spoken to his sovereign in such a manner. The Empress Dowager trembled, startled by his outburst.
“Your Majesty,” Gao Lingbo took a deep breath, forcing down the rising frustration within him. He softened and slowed his voice. “You and the Crown Prince are the tigers. As long as you remain, as long as you are secure, he is nothing.”
“Then do we simply let this go?” the Empress Dowager cried. “Is Shi’si’s death in vain? Are we to watch that wretch wallow in triumph at Qingyuan Station?”
“Of course not,” Gao Lingjun replied with a cold smile. “Action is inferior to inaction. Right now, they want nothing more than for us to make a move – we must not give them what they desire. Today, they have a reason to stay at Qingyuan Station, and they may linger there tomorrow, or even for ten or fifteen days. But what about a month or two? Principles and justifications are not possessions that last forever. Sometimes it is the east wind that prevails over the west; other times it is the west wind that overpowers the east. There is no need to rush, no need at all.”
The Empress Dowager lifted her sleeve to wipe away her tears.
“Your Majesty,” Gao Lingjun continued, “what matters now is the Crown Prince’s wedding, and ensuring that the Crown Prince produces an heir. As long as the Crown Prince has a son, the hearts of the court will be settled.”
With the hearts of the people settled, the stability of the realm would be secured. And with the realm stable, the Gao family would be secure as well.
For now, let that wretched couple live a few more days.
“Of course,” Gao Lingjun said slowly, “we cannot simply let them off so easily. They must know that this matter is far from over.”
The night was deep and heavy. Apart from the vibrant bustle still lingering on the night market street, the rest of the capital had already sunk into slumber.
Around a residential compound, several dark figures suddenly emerged. With a fierce flick of their wrists, a few dull thuds echoed from behind the courtyard walls, and immediately, flames erupted.
“Fire! Fire!”
Almost at the same moment the flames surged, shouts rang out from inside, startling the dark figures.
Meanwhile, the faint sound of hooves began to drift in from the main street.
“There’s a fire over there!”
Voices, now near, now distant, were carried by the night breeze.
“Damn it, aren’t the night patrols supposed to be drinking on the streets at this hour?” someone muttered under their breath. “How come they’re patrolling here right now?”
“Enough talk. It’s not like we’re actually trying to burn anyone to death. Scaring them is good enough. Let’s go,” another voice urged.
The dark figures fled like shadows, vanishing into the night.
Inside the courtyard, the fire continued to crackle and burn.
“Da-lang…”
Lady Huang stood beneath the eaves, her robe draped loosely over her shoulders. She watched Fan Jianglin speaking in hushed tones with several servants in the courtyard, her face pale with fear under the flickering glow of lanterns and flames.
The servants hurried off to carry out their orders, and Fan Jianglin walked back toward her.
“It’s nothing. Go back to sleep,” he said.
Lady Huang reached out and grabbed his sleeve.
“Perhaps… we should return to the northwest,” she suddenly suggested.
Her sister-in-law had left, the fourteenth son of the Gao family was dead, and the appearance of bandits near the capital – all of this pointed to the turbulent undercurrents surging through the city.
And now, a sudden fire in the middle of the night… It was certainly not caused by dry weather or accident.
Fan Jianglin smiled faintly.
“Let’s wait for a later time,” he said.
“When is ‘later’?” Lady Huang pressed.
“When it’s time to go,” Fan Jianglin replied evasively.
Just as Lady Huang was about to ask more, a loud crash echoed from the rear, and flames erupted once again. She couldn’t help but let out a sharp scream.
“How come there’s a fire over there too?”
She immediately called for help.
Fan Jianglin held her back.
“It’s fine,” he said calmly. “Since someone has already set the fire, we might as well let it burn.”
What?
Lady Huang stared at him in disbelief.
Let it burn? What did he mean by “might as well”?
She looked up and saw that the new fire had broken out in the storeroom in the backyard.
Fortunately, there was nothing particularly valuable stored there – just the large bamboo intended for building Xiao Bao’s bamboo hut and some miscellaneous tools.
Only…
Lady Huang paused briefly, then turned to look at Fan Jianglin. Under the shifting interplay of firelight, lanterns, and the deep night, his expression flickered between light and shadow.
Muffled whispers drifted from outside, then the door to the room was suddenly pulled open. Two maids, who had been speaking softly, were startled. Qin Hu stood in the doorway, dressed only in thin inner garments with his sleeves rolled up.
“Young Master,” they quickly bowed in greeting.
“What’s happening so late?” Qin Hu asked.
“Young Master, there’s a fire at a household on the street outside,” one of the maids replied.
“Is it spreading to our home?” Qin Hu frowned.
The maids shook their heads.
“Then what are you two doing here?” Qin Hu said.
The maids exchanged a glance.
“Young Master, it’s at Lady Cheng’s home,” one whispered.
Qin Hu paused briefly, raising his eyes to look outside. The Qin residence and the Cheng residence were located at opposite ends of the east and west streets – there was no way to see from here.
“Don’t worry, Young Master,” the maid hurriedly added. “The night patrol happened to be passing by and helped put out the fire. There’s only some damage to the buildings, but no one was hurt.”
Qin Hu laughed lightly.
“Of course they were unharmed,” he said, a touch of mockery in his smile. “They really don’t think there have been enough deaths yet, as if dying weren’t already too slow.”
Who was he talking about? The maids looked puzzled, but when they glanced back, Qin Hu had already closed the door and retreated inside.
Though the night was deep, Qin Hu’s chamber remained brightly lit. A row of weapons lay neatly arranged on the floor.
He walked over, picked up a single-edged broadsword, gripped it tightly, and swung it forcefully through the air.
Under the lamplight, a cold gleam sliced through the space.
“Not right,” he muttered, stopping abruptly and standing upright in thought. “We haven’t yet reached the distance where a blade can be used.”
He murmured to himself, placed the blade back on the floor, and scanned the row of weapons before picking up a short spear.
“At this distance, this is what should be used,” he said, thrusting the spear forward with a sharp, swift motion.
Before his eyes, the image of the girl on horseback from that rainy night seemed to materialize, and a faint smile touched his lips.
Bows and arrows, long spears, tiger-head halberds – flying, piercing, thrusting, charging – the foremost rider and horse would fall instantly.
Short spears, horizontal polearms, gate-halberds – hooking, pulling, pushing, slashing -riders toppled left and right, front and back.
Axes, jointed steel whips, hidden weapons – splitting, smashing, shattering, striking at the heart and veins.
Trident forks, eyebrow-height staffs – blocking, controlling, seizing opportunities in the blink of an eye.
Inside the brightly lit room, the young man leaped, twisted, and lunged, his shifting weapons stirring gusts of chilling wind. The lamplight flickered and swayed, casting long, dancing shadows across the floor, walls, and windows.
In the deep, heavy night, there were still many who lay awake.
From within the Empress Dowager’s bedchamber in the palace, loud shouts continued to echo.
On the bed, the Empress Dowager suddenly sat up.
“What is going on?” she snapped, pulling aside the bed curtains.
The palace maids kneeling on the floor hurriedly kowtowed.
“Is there no peace for sleep?” the Empress Dowager shouted. “Can any of you even serve properly? Useless fools!”
Along with her cries, the female officials and eunuchs outside rushed toward the rear hall where the Crown Prince was.
“What in the world is happening?”
Inside the rear hall, eunuchs bowed in panic.
“His Highness the Crown Prince… we don’t know what’s wrong, but he won’t sleep,” they said.
The Empress Dowager’s eunuchs and female officials glanced into the hall. The stagnant night air made the foul odor that had been barely noticeable during the day now unmistakably pungent.
The Crown Prince was unable to care for his own bodily functions. Despite frequent changes of clothing, the smell seemed impossible to eliminate.
Disgust was poorly concealed in everyone’s eyes, and they halted their steps, reluctant to enter.
“Her Majesty has exhausted herself all day. What are you here for? Serve His Highness well, and do not disturb Her Majesty again,” a eunuch said sternly, his brows drawn together.
The eunuchs attending the Crown Prince hurriedly kowtowed and acknowledged the command.
“If you disturb Her Majesty once more, you can forget about keeping your lives,” a female official warned.
The eunuchs grew even more anxious and fearful as they watched the group depart.
Inside the Crown Prince’s chamber, loud cries echoed once again, and the eunuchs rushed back in.
The Crown Prince was bound to a four-post bed, lying on his back as he let out a roar.
“This is truly unbearable,” one eunuch muttered. “What does he want now? Why is he sleeping worse and worse these days?”
“Let’s just gag his mouth,” another eunuch suggested, struck by an idea.
This was immediately opposed by the others.
“The imperial doctor said the Crown Prince is too overweight. Gagging him would obstruct his breathing – we’ve been told not to do that.”
The eunuchs paced around the room in circles, at a loss.
“Then let’s bring the women back,” one eunuch said, eyeing the Crown Prince. “Once His Highness releases some pent-up energy, he’ll settle down.”
Someone was sent to rouse the women sleeping in the adjoining room.
The woman, however, was unwilling.
“His Highness hasn’t been able to perform these past two days,” she said, yawning without any sign of shyness in front of the eunuchs. “Even if I take the lead, he still needs to get hard first.”
The eunuchs chuckled softly.
“That’s easy enough,” one of them said. “Just have him take another bowl of tonic.”
The woman scoffed.
“I think it’s you lot who want to drink it, don’t you?” she teased.
Laughter rippled through the room. Before long, someone brought in a bowl of medicinal brew.
The night grew heavier. An eunuch standing guard outside the Empress Dowager’s hall rubbed his hands together and strained his ears. Hearing no more of the earlier cries, he sighed in relief – but there was still a trace of worry in his expression.
“Who knows when this will ever end,” he murmured to himself.
