Chapter 41: Jinling City (18)
Lin Zikui had read countless books in his life, but this was the first time he had ever seen something so improper. He felt like a thief, worried that his attendant might see, even more afraid that Xiao Zhaoling would return suddenly and catch him. So he opened it and snuck a few glances under the covers.
But he only had one good eye, and the dim light slipping through the cracks in the covers made it hard to see the pages.
There seemed to be illustrations in the book, but Lin Zikui couldn’t make them out clearly. He flipped through the whole thing and still couldn’t make sense of it.
In the end, he had no choice but to put the book back where he found it. Yet, as if compelled by some invisible force, he fetched the candlestick again and flipped through it a second time.
Just two more glances and he nearly knocked the candlestick over. His brows furrowed tightly as he shoved the book back with frustration, then stacked a pile of Confucian classics and several scriptures on top of it with force, his face burning red as he scolded aloud, “Utterly disgraceful!”
Lin Zikui hadn’t looked at it out of idle curiosity. He had been thinking about what Xie Laosan said for two whole hours before finally deciding to look at the book.
He had asked Xie Laosan whether Zhao Ling was his junior brother, but Xie Laosan’s answer was vague, cleverly dodging the deeper question implied in his words.
The fact that it had to be hidden—might just mean that this absurd suspicion… could be true.
Zhao Ling might…
Might not be a woman.
He had lied to him again.
If he really took him home as his bride, how would he ever explain it to the spirits of his deceased parents?
But if he didn’t marry him, then he’d be breaking off the engagement.
This inner conflict tangled up Lin Zikui’s thoughts, leaving him restless and sleepless. He buried himself under the covers, repeating to himself over and over that as long as they didn’t share a bed, there was no difference between a man and a woman. If people back home asked, he could just say his wife liked dressing as a man. Once Zhao Ling wore a wedding dress, everyone would believe it.
As long as they didn’t share a bed…
Lin Zikui sighed. He could pretend he never knew. He could go his whole life never knowing.
After reading that book, he was even more unable to accept the idea of sharing a bed in that way. He wasn’t a cut-sleeve—how could he possibly do such things with a man?
Lin Zikui also thought: what if it was all just in his head? Xie Laosan hadn’t directly said Zhao Ling was his junior brother—so didn’t that also mean there was a chance he was a junior sister?
It was suffocating under the blankets—so stuffy he could barely breathe. Darkness pressed in from all sides.
Xiao Fu returned and sat at the edge of the bed watching him for a while. He didn’t even take off his outer robes before leaning back on the bedhead for a nap. After about an hour, he got up and rode back to the palace to attend court.
The emperor had died, and the court was in chaos. If he didn’t show up to assert authority, who knew what schemes people might be cooking up at home?
When Lin Zikui got up, he could still feel the residual warmth and faint scent beside him.
He leaned in and sniffed—there was indeed a fragrance.
Had Zhao Ling come back? Lin Zikui sat up and went looking for him. Just as he opened the door, he caught sight of a carriage leaving the riverbank.
These past few days, Xiao Zhaoling had told him what was going on.
Lin Zikui knew there had been a death in his family, and the seven-day mourning period hadn’t passed yet—so he was naturally busy beyond belief.
Looking up, he saw the lantern he had won during the riddle contest on the night of the Lantern Festival still hanging from the eaves. It swayed in the wind, the candle inside long since burned out.
Last night, Xiao Fu had already reviewed the memorials and dismissed a batch of officials. Where vacancies remained, he made swift decisions. He appointed Chen Yuanqing as commander-in-chief of the imperial guard. Chen Yuanqing had military merit and was one of the regent’s close men. Though some ministers were reluctant, none openly objected.
Today, however, the ministers’ biggest concern was still the matter of establishing a crown prince.
Some senior ministers argued, “Your Highness, from ancient times it has always been the eldest, not the youngest; the legitimate, not the concubine-born. I believe the eldest prince is most suitable.”
But a younger, more forthright minister spoke bluntly: “The eldest prince is nearly ten, but still far too young. I believe the late emperor’s brother is in his prime. Prince Zhao has achieved great military feats and contributed immensely to the empire. I believe Prince Zhao is the best choice.”
Xiao Fu was sitting just below the dragon throne on the right, resting his cheek on his palm, wearing a four-clawed python robe. He looked a bit weary. At those words, he slowly opened his eyes, his lashes casting shadows over his dark pupils. “What’s your name?”
The entire court fell silent. Mentioning Prince Zhao—was this man trying to die?
“Your humble servant is Zhao Mian, Vice Minister of Rites.”
Xiao Fu said lazily, “Well said. But Prince Zhao and I are enemies. He’s out of the question. Next.”
Zhao Mian: “…”
They had long heard that the Regent Xiao Fu did things however he pleased—now they knew exactly what that meant.
After court, Xiao Fu had lunch in the palace. By the hour of Shen (3–5 p.m.), he oversaw a riding and archery trial in the palace grounds for the three princes.
Of course, the fourth prince was too young to participate. He just sat to the side watching. The sun had come out today, and the palace maids brought fruits and tea. The little fourth prince sat beside Xiao Fu, his head only reaching Xiao Fu’s waist.
The eldest prince turned his head with a heavy gaze toward the third prince. He thought, now that the second prince had been banished to the Cold Palace and could no longer compete with him, the only rival left was the third prince—whose riding and archery were far inferior to his own.
The third prince drew his bow but failed to hit the target several times, breaking out in sweat.
The eldest prince hit six or seven arrows out of ten—his archery was quite decent. Many soldiers didn’t have his accuracy. Every time he struck the target, the pride on his face became even more pronounced.
Xiao Fu leaned his head against the cushioned back of the chair and yawned.
The eldest prince caught sight of the Regent looking so bored out of the corner of his eye—was it because his shooting wasn’t impressive? He suddenly grew nervous, and the wooden arrow slipped from his hand, flying out wildly—so off-target that it shot straight toward a nearby eunuch!
“Watch out!” the third prince rushed toward the eunuch.
*Clang—* A curved blade flew out in a flash. Before anyone had a chance to react, they saw the wooden arrow sliced clean in two, falling harmlessly to the ground.
Liang Gonggong broke into a cold sweat and turned to see—
It was the newly appointed commander of the imperial guards, Commander Chen, who had acted.
The third prince let out a sigh of relief. The eldest prince’s face had gone completely pale. “Royal Father, I didn’t mean to. I just got nervous and missed. Please punish me.”
“It’s fine as long as you didn’t hit anyone. When you’re holding a weapon, you need to be even more careful,” Xiao Fu didn’t say much and simply gestured, “Come over here, both of you.”
The two princes walked over. Both were clad in armor, and sweat was running down their faces.
Xiao Fu asked, “Eldest Prince, do you usually enjoy riding and archery?”
“Yes!” the eldest prince nodded eagerly.
Xiao Fu said, “Then Royal Father will have Commander Chen teach you riding and archery.” Before the eldest prince could burst with joy, Xiao Fu added, “The third prince will join as well.”
A trace of dismay appeared on the third prince’s face—it was clear he didn’t like riding or archery—but he gritted his teeth and agreed, “Alright.”
The fourth prince chimed in from the side, “Royal Father, shouldn’t Yun’er learn too?”
Xiao Fu gave him a sideways glance. “Yun’er is still too small. You can’t even hold a wooden sword yet—what martial arts would you learn?”
The fourth prince replied seriously, “If Yun’er learns, he’ll be able to protect the country one day.”
Xiao Fu looked up at Yuanqing.
Yuanqing said, “I can have a light wooden sword made for the little prince so he can learn alongside the others.”
The fourth prince cheered, “Royal Father, the commander says Yun’er can train too!”
Xiao Fu chuckled and nodded, “Then Yun’er can join in as well.”
The eldest prince suddenly realized something.
No wonder Royal Father kept calling the fourth prince “Yun’er”—it was because the little one referred to himself that way, and it had rubbed off on him.
The eldest prince thought it over and began referring to himself similarly, “Yu’er has something he wishes to ask Royal Father.”
Xiao Fu looked toward him, “Go on.”
The eldest prince blushed faintly. “When Yu’er draws the bow, both hands can be used. My left hand has better aim, but the right has more strength. Yu’er doesn’t know which one would be better to focus on. Royal Father, you were watching just now—may I ask for your advice?”
Even the third prince looked at his elder brother differently after hearing that.
Xiao Fu considered it and said, “Use your left hand. Accuracy is innate; strength can be trained.”
“Thank you, Royal Father. Yu’er understands now.”
Xiao Fu didn’t spend too long with the three princes before sending them off to stand vigil for Emperor Wen Tai.
The calm on the surface couldn’t hide the fact that the emperor had passed away. Of the four children, the only one who wore mourning robes properly was the third prince.
Even in the heat, he hadn’t taken off his mourning headscarf.
Xiao Fu had once said he liked filial children. It seemed the only one who really took that to heart was the third prince.
The fourth prince was as pure as a blank sheet of paper. He didn’t understand what the emperor’s death meant, so there was no grief in him. He just looked confused and asked Xiao Fu, “Royal Father, does that mean Yun’er’s Imperial Brother isn’t coming back?”
“That’s right. Imperial Brother has gone,” Xiao Fu looked down at the little prince. “From now on, Royal Father will be your father.”
The fourth prince said, “Then doesn’t that mean Royal Father will marry my mother consort? She’s really pretty.”
Xiao Fu immediately knocked him on the head and whispered, “Royal Father already has someone in his heart. I won’t marry anyone else. Who did you hear this from—those gossiping palace maids?”
“Mm, I heard them saying, since Royal Father is already so old and still hasn’t married or had children, maybe one of the young and pretty consorts in the harem could become queen.”
Xiao Fu didn’t respond, only shot a look at Liang Hong.
Liang Gonggong immediately understood. These rumor-mongers! The former emperor’s body wasn’t even cold yet and they were already gossiping like this. Unforgivable!
Later, Xiao Fu returned to Duke Chang Residence. Since all this happened, he hadn’t been back once. His parents had sent people looking for him several times, but he had always chosen to spend his free time visiting his Lin Lang. He had no time to deal with his parents.
Now that he was finally back, his father dragged him straight into the study and shut the door.
Pointing a trembling finger at him, he scolded, “You truly are reckless and outrageous!”
“Father, it was Eldest Sister who appointed me Regent. You think I wanted this? It’s been days now—I’ve barely slept three hours in total. You think I want to be like this?”
Duke Chang knew he didn’t. If Xiao Fu had truly sought power and control, he would never have endured the isolation of the frontier for seven years.
Now that he heard his son hadn’t slept, and seeing the deep exhaustion in his eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to continue reprimanding him.
“…Fine then. Just know, this is muddy water you’ve stepped into. Now that you’re in, you must be prepared for the consequences. Keep your bodyguards close. No matter how skilled you are, be wary of those around you. Be extra careful with anything you eat or drink! Do you have enough trusted people with you? I’ll assign a few more.”
“No need. I’ve got three top fighters by my side,” Xiao Fu yawned. “Let’s talk more once I’ve had some proper sleep.”
“Then at least have some soup—your mother made it for you!”
“Alright.” Xiao Fu drank the soup, then had a long, heartfelt chat with Princess Minghua. He was so exhausted he didn’t even make it back to the boat. He stayed the night at the Duke Residence.
As soon as he closed his eyes, he fell into a deep sleep—without even taking off his outer robe. Princess Minghua called a servant over to help remove it, but Xiao Fu, perhaps confused, mistakenly called out “Lin Lang.”
Lin Zikui didn’t wait for Zhao Ling to return either and simply went to bed.
The more time Lin Zikui spent with Xiao Zhaoling, the more he felt that Xiao Zhaoling was someone he couldn’t quite hold onto.
Seven days later.
Emperor Wen Tai’s coffin was still in the palace, not yet buried.
The Minister of Ceremonies selected a burial date—it would be in three days.
With the emperor’s passing, the nation was in mourning. The matter of establishing a crown prince could no longer be delayed.
Xiao Fu had Liang Hong lead the way. The deeper they went into the palace, the narrower the paths became, and the fewer palace maids there were.
The neglected corners of the imperial palace were desolate, and the Cold Palace was one such place. Countless people had died in the Cold Palace, their corpses left to rot, unnoticed and unburied.
Xiao Fu reached the outside of the Cold Palace. The weather had begun to warm. The Second Prince was wearing a dirty, ill-fitting long robe, and his small figure was hunched under the eaves, borrowing the light to read. He had a strip of white cloth wrapped around his head—it wasn’t an official mourning band, more like a random piece of white fabric picked up from somewhere.
The Cold Palace was littered with dead leaves and devoid of even a single eunuch.
Xiao Fu saw the bruises on the Second Prince’s face—he must have been beaten. Fortunately, it wasn’t the dead of winter, or he might’ve frozen to death.
Xiao Fu didn’t stay long before turning to leave.
Cining Palace.
Empress Dowager Xiao had been devastated by grief lately, her lips pale and her complexion wan.
Barely able to sit upright with Xiao Fu’s support, she forced herself to say, “The matter of appointing an heir can’t be delayed any longer. We must choose a new emperor quickly. Back when Duo’er was still alive, I spoke to him about this. At the time, he was satisfied with the second child. Madam Xu raised him well. I’ve looked at the eldest and the third as well—they’re also fine candidates.” The fourth prince was, naturally, the worst choice. Empress Dowager Xiao did not want the world accusing Xiao Fu of “prolonging his own reign by clinging to a child, and suppressing the capable to consolidate power.”
Xiao Fu said, “From what I’ve observed lately, I’m of the same mind.”
The Empress Dowager, “The eldest or the third? Have you… have you gotten a reply from him?”
Knowing she meant the Retired Emperor, Xiao Fu replied, “I sent someone with a letter. He wrote back with a single character—‘Ren’ (benevolence). What he wants is a benevolent ruler.”
Yuwen Duo had been poorly taught; he lacked benevolence.
Back then, Xiao Fu hadn’t seen it either. At the time, Yuwen Duo was still the Ninth Prince and hadn’t yet ascended the throne. Toward Xiao Fu, he had been full of respect, humility, and restraint.
They had all been young then. If it had been the Retired Emperor choosing now, Xiao Fu thought he might’ve picked the third prince.
Xiao Fu said, “Let the Second Prince become the new emperor.”
The Empress Dowager was shocked. “The second child? You want to choose the second?”
Xiao Fu nodded. “A too-gentle child emperor would only invite rebellion from those below. The Second Prince’s maternal family’s power has already been completely dismantled. He has no one to rely on but me.”
The Empress Dowager shook her head. “I disagree. Xiao Fu, aren’t you afraid that once he comes of age, he’ll harbor resentment and try to overthrow you using the eunuch faction?”
“Elder Sister,” Xiao Fu remained calm, “I won’t let that happen. Besides, when he comes of age and is capable of ruling on his own, I will hand over all power to him.”
He had plenty on his plate already. These past few days had been so hectic, he barely had time to see his beloved.
Xiao Fu had no time to handle government affairs. The Second Prince merely needed some proper guidance to become an excellent emperor. The eldest and third princes were also acceptable choices, but they would take up far more of his time.
And where would Xiao Fu find that time? He was in a rush to get married.
Having persuaded the Empress Dowager, Xiao Fu sent someone to the Cold Palace to bring back the Second Prince, who had become noticeably thinner.
Even though he could barely stand, he still performed a full formal bow.
“Your son greets Royal Father.” Yuwen Xuan knelt on the ground. Xiao Fu walked over, and Yuwen Xuan saw the black boots of the Regent from where he had bowed his head.
“You’ve suffered, Xuan’er.” The lofty Regent actually crouched down and gently wiped the dirt from his face with a handkerchief. It had been days since he’d had anything to eat or drink. He’d fetched water himself, only to be pushed into the well and nearly drowned. After climbing out, he had been beaten. Everyone said he was a criminal—that he had plotted treason and brought harm to the Emperor.
He was a discarded child, guilty beyond redemption, and even the lowest eunuchs dared to kick him as they pleased.
Yuwen Xuan’s eyes welled with tears. He trembled uncontrollably. Looking up, he saw the Regent’s handsome but sharp-featured face. “Royal Father, I haven’t suffered. Your son is guilty.”
Xiao Fu didn’t confirm or deny it. He asked him, “Xuan’er, do you want to sit on the Dragon Throne?”
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