Su Yan woke up in his quarters in the Chongzhi Palace to find himself lying on a soft mattress. His entire body had been cleaned, and the wounds on his arms and legs had been freshly disinfected and dressed with top-quality wound salves, radiating a dull, burning pain.
Yu Wang sat on the edge of the bed, toying with the golden silk armour that had been removed from Su Yan’s body. Seeing him awake, Yu Wang placed the chainmail on the pillow beside him and said, “This is a rare treasure for self-defense. Keep it safe and wear it ahead of any critical moments.”
Though the armor was valuable, Yu Wang didn’t seem particularly concerned about it. He didn’t even bother asking how Su Yan had come by it, treating it as unimportant.
Su Yan tried to get up, but rolling to his left pressed against his injured arm, while rolling to his right hurt his wounded leg. Frustrated, he laid back on his back with a huff.
Yu Wang teased, “Why not call for my help?”
“I wouldn’t dare trouble a noble person. That would be overstepping.” Su Yan’s tone was sharp, his lingering anger evident.
Yu Wang chuckled. “Strange how you didn’t worry about overstepping when you threw a chessboard at my face.”
“Wangye still has the audacity to bring this up! With your exceptional skills, you pretended you couldn’t dodge and nearly got hit, then acted as if you’d hurt your back. Who were you putting on this performance for?” Su Yan rolled his eyes toward the embroidered canopy of birds and flowers hanging above the bed. “At this point, I’m even starting to suspect that your so-called ‘urgency’ that day was only thirty percent real and seventy percent an act, just to toy with me.”
Naturally, it was for the Embroidered Uniform Guard spies on your rooftop, thought Yu Wang, though he didn’t say it aloud. Instead, he diverted the topic. “So, how do you plan to wrap up this case?”
“I’ll draft a memorial to report the truth to His Majesty. The boots under Cui Zhangyuan’s bed and the bundle buried in the woods are solid evidence, which I’ll submit to the Ministry of Justice. As for Yun Xi…” Su Yan paused, as if the mention of the name pricked him, and exhaled slowly. “He has already taken his own life to atone. I’ll request His Majesty for leniency so his family won’t be implicated.”
Yu Wang remarked, “It seems I won’t escape another reprimand from my imperial brother.”
Su Yan shot him a sidelong glance. “I doubt you’re afraid of His Majesty’s scoldings. Look, you’re still smiling.”
Yu Wang laughed as he helped Su Yan sit up, pulling a thick quilt to prop him up and pouring him a cup of hot water. “I’ve stayed in the capital for years, and getting scolded every so often has become routine. I’m used to it.”
Su Yan shook his head and offered sincere advice. “Indulgence in pleasure should have its limits. Excess harms both body and mind, and benefits neither yourself nor others. Even if Your Highness doesn’t care about public opinion, you should at least consider the reputation you leave behind in history.”
Bad news travels fast. The infamous reputation of “hedonism and debauchery” would persist for five hundred years. Just the thought of it made Su Yan feel it was a shame for Yu Wang—such an impressive and charismatic figure, yet unwilling to focus on proper pursuits.
Yu Wang said, “Qinghe, you’re right. I must change. From now on, I’ll steer clear of fleeting distractions. From the vast river of life, I’ll drink from but one ladle.”
Su Yan suspected the first part of his response was perfunctory, and the latter half a teasing remark. Yet Yu Wang’s expression was so sincere and earnest that Su Yan couldn’t muster any anger. Instead, he muttered a half-hearted “Mmm.”
After finishing his drink, Su Yan felt a bit of strength returning and intended to get out of bed to draft the memorial. Yu Wang reached out to stop him. “You’re injured. Stay lying down. I’ll write it for you, and you can just sign your name at the end.”
Yu Wang brightened the oil lamp on the desk, ground the inkstone, and picked up the brush. With practiced ease, he completed the draft in one fluid motion, carefully blowing on the ink to dry it before handing it over to Su Yan for review.
Su Yan took the paper and saw that the calligraphy, in bold and flowing cursive, was strikingly elegant and imbued with an air of authority—bold yet disciplined. It was a display of exceptional skill. Deep down, Su Yan couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret: If all else fails, why not pursue a career as a calligrapher? Surely, that’s better than wasting your life as a libertine!
Though it was true that ever since the reign of Emperor Chengzu of the Ming Dynasty, the imperial family had been especially wary of the royal clans, leaving the vassal state princes in a particularly constrained position compared to other dynasties—they were granted titles but no lands, awarded stipends but no governing powers, living lives of opulence in virtual captivity with nothing to do but indulge in feasting and producing heirs—there were still other pursuits in life to aspire to.
For instance, one could devote oneself to scholarship and become a pharmacologist or a musician…
He vaguely remembered a certain vassal state prince who wrote a renowned botanical treatise hailed as the “most outstanding herbal compendium of the medieval period,” which greatly influenced later medical advancements. Li Shizhen, for instance, had built upon this person’s monumental work. Then there was another vassal state prince whose achievements in music, astronomy, and mathematics were so remarkable that he was later recognized by the Western scientific community as “a Chinese scientist who made extraordinary contributions to the world.”
Why couldn’t you take after these ancestors—or descendants, depending on how the lineage connects—of yours? Even if your life doesn’t bring you much personal fulfillment, at least you’d earn lasting fame!
Su Yan felt a pang of frustration at Yu Wang’s lack of ambition. After signing off on the document, he couldn’t help but ask, “Aside from cavorting with flowers and grass, doesn’t Your Highness have any other interests or hobbies?”
Yu Wang looked at him with amused curiosity. “Does Qinghe want to know more about me?”
“…Let’s say I do. Does Wangye have any other skills or passions?”
Yu Wang strolled to the window and gazed at the night sky. The moon shone bright, with scattered stars dotting the heavens. The Big Dipper was faint, with only a flickering Yuheng star standing out; the others were dim and dull. A gust of wind from the northwest brushed past his ears, carrying faint echoes of clashing blades and the metallic clang of war—a hauntingly resonant sound, like the ashes left behind after a blazing fire.
“None,” he said with a calmness that was utterly unshakable.
Su Yan tried to comfort him. “That’s all right. Interests and hobbies can be cultivated. Your calligraphy is excellent, comparable to the Emperor’s paintings. Why not develop that further?”
Yu Wang turned to him, a subtle smile dancing on his lips. “Sure.”
***
After having breakfast in the room, Su Yan accompanied Yu Wang out of the small southern courtyard to Longde Hall to meet with the Emperor. There, they presented the memorial and detailed the case’s events.
For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, Su Yan skimmed over the parts that involved Yu Wang, mentioning them only briefly.
Even so, Emperor Jinglong’s expression darkened, and he sternly reprimanded Yu Wang: “From today onward, if I hear even a single rumor about you being overly familiar with officials, you’ll kneel in the Ancestral Temple for three days and three nights without food or water. Royal Mother has been devoted to Buddhism and Daoism these past years and has neglected to discipline you. I’ll take that responsibility. And if I can’t, there’s still the golden staff left by the late emperor—and the high walls of Fengyang!”
Forced to apologize in Su Yan’s presence, Yu Wang prostrated himself in a full kowtow and pleaded, “Your unworthy brother acknowledges his fault and will reform from now on.”
The emperor glanced at Su Yan, his expression as if to say, I promised he would apologize to you—this grand gesture is yours to accept. Consider it done.
Su Yan felt a complex mix of emotions. On the one hand, he felt vindicated, especially recalling the time he had vowed to see Yu Wang humbled after being tied to a bedpost by his belt. On the other hand, he empathized with Yu Wang’s humiliation. If it were him, being forced by an elder brother to kneel and apologize in public would be mortifying beyond belief, likely sparking a heated argument.
But this was no ordinary sibling relationship—it was a bond of ruler and subject. When the Son of Heaven was angered, the only recourse for others was absolute submission. Arguing was out of the question; even the slightest hint of disrespect was a punishable offense.
The distinction between ruler and subject must be upheld. Even between brothers of the same bloodline, hierarchy and order must be maintained—let alone in this instance, where Yu Wang was undeniably at fault. Whatever punishment the Emperor decreed, he could only accept it without complaint.
Su Yan reminded himself to adapt to the customs of this feudal society and at least outwardly conform to its rules. He bowed to the Emperor to express his gratitude.
The Emperor made a light gesture to stop him. “You are injured; no need for such formalities. Sit.”
Then, turning to Yu Wang, he said, “This time, I’ll let it slide. I hope you can truly mend your ways and contribute more to the welfare of the country and its people, easing some of the burden on me.” With that, he granted Yu Wang a seat as well.
The atmosphere relaxed somewhat, and Yu Wang, true to form, resumed his indolent and nonchalant demeanor. Leaning lazily against the armrest of his chair, he drawled, “When does Royal Brother plan to return to the palace? If you intend to stay longer, could I at least be allowed to return to my residence? I’ve had quite enough of the East Garden.”
The Emperor replied, “The imperial physicians have said that the Imperial Concubine is now out of danger. We can depart today. As for the innocent officials detained in Chongzhi Hall, I’ve already issued an order to release them. Regarding Marquis Fengan… since this case has proven unrelated to him, his house arrest is also lifted. Let’s hope he conducts himself wisely in the future.”
The mention of Wei Jun inevitably reminded Su Yan of Wu Ming, who had not abandoned his plans for revenge. This worried him deeply. He resolved to accelerate the plans to eliminate both Wei Jun and Feng Que. Otherwise, even if Wu Ming could restrain himself for a time, it was likely that Shen Qi would meet a tragic end.
While Su Yan was lost in thought, a series of hurried and chaotic footsteps approached from outside the hall. They stopped abruptly at the entrance, as if the person outside had deliberately curbed their impatience to appear more composed.
Lan Xi entered the hall and announced, “Your Majesty, the Young Master requests an audience.”
The Emperor nodded.
Lan Xi raised his voice, “Granted.” Crown Prince Zhu Helin strode into the hall with quick steps. After greeting the Emperor, he immediately turned to Su Yan and, like a rapid-fire barrage, asked, “I heard you were attacked by an assassin and seriously injured? How are your wounds? Has the imperial physician been summoned? Have you taken any medicine?”
Su Yan couldn’t help but laugh. Bowing slightly, he replied, “Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. If I were seriously injured, how could I still be sitting here? It was merely a few superficial wounds. I’ve been treated and am fine now.”
The Crown Prince was enraged. “What sort of scoundrel would dare such an audacious act, attempting an assassination in a royal palace? Have their origins been uncovered?”
Su Yan replied, “The matter is still under investigation.”
He had initially intended to reveal outright that it was Feng Que’s doing but reconsidered. The Crown Prince was still young and not yet steady in temperament. If he acted rashly and disrupted the Emperor’s plans, it could cause more harm than good.
When Su Yan had previously submitted Shen Qi’s secret memorial, the Emperor’s expression had turned grim, and his gaze toward Su Yan seemed to carry a trace of unease. Perhaps it was precisely because Yu Wang’s timely intervention had been so crucial that the Emperor, despite his anger at Yu Wang’s misconduct, had ultimately let him off lightly with a few stern words and an apology.
Su Yan thought about it for a moment and suddenly felt that although the Emperor often reprimanded him, he actually cared quite a bit. This realization made him feel a bit pleased, and much of the grievance from being forced to kneel and weep on the Emperor’s lap dissipated.
However, after reading the secret memorial, the Emperor merely spat out, “Those who persist in their wickedness will reap what they sow!” He didn’t immediately issue an order to arrest anyone. Su Yan guessed that the Emperor’s tolerance for Feng Que had reached its limit and that he was only waiting for the right opportunity to eradicate him entirely.
—The entire Embroidered Uniform Guard might be in for a major reshuffle! Su Yan thought.
The Crown Prince was still fuming. “Then have them investigate thoroughly! They must catch the mastermind behind this. I’d like to see how many heads this scoundrel thinks he has to spare!”
“Thank you, Your Majesty and Your Highness, for seeking justice for me,” Su Yan said. He glanced at Yu Wang and added, “And thank you, Wangye, for arriving in time to save my life.”
Although the Crown Prince was displeased with Yu Wang—be it for teasing his Shidu, hiding in a wardrobe to catch him off guard, or bickering face-to-face—he still had to begrudgingly acknowledge the favor. With a sour expression, he muttered, “I appreciate the effort, Fourth Uncle.”
Yu Wang smiled faintly and said, “It was no trouble at all. I’m quite at ease.”
The Crown Prince, picking up on the double meaning in his words, retorted sharply, “If I were you, Royal Uncle, I wouldn’t feel so at ease. Everyone says patching up a pen after the sheep are lost is futile. What’s left now is an empty sheepfold—how can you conjure sheep out of thin air?”
Yu Wang was unbothered and replied, “Some things not only can emerge from nothing but may also turn into their opposite. You’ll understand when you’re older.”
Hearing this subtle jab at his age, the Crown Prince’s eyes flared with anger.
The Emperor, sensing something amiss, felt that this public spat between uncle and nephew was highly improper. He chastised them both: “Old Four, stooping to petty arguments with your nephew—have you no shame? And you, Helin, as the Crown Prince, you lack magnanimity. How can you expect the court officials to respect you in the future?”
Yu Wang stood up, gave a bow, and said, “Your Majesty is right. Your humble brother will return to cultivate my character.”
The Emperor chuckled and scolded, “That’s a veiled remark—who do you think you’re saying this for? I didn’t say I’m confining you to your residence. The case of Ye Donglou was handled well by you and Su Yan, solved within three days. I’m assigning you the follow-up work too, so don’t even think about slacking off and retreating to your manor!”
As Yu Wang passed Su Yan, he turned his head and asked, “Will Su Shidu accompany me to the Ministry of Justice?”
The Crown Prince immediately interjected, “No! He’s still injured and will accompany me to the Eastern Palace to recover.”
“If he is going to recuperate, he will do it at his own residence. An external official staying overnight in the Eastern Palace every few days—completely improper!”
The Emperor’s rebuke landed squarely on the Crown Prince, leaving him deflated. He dared not protest, simply pouting in silence.
Su Yan, feeling like a flatbread trapped between three scorching pans—not just flipped from side to side but even the center about to be burned—quickly seized the opportunity to retreat. “Your Majesty, I thank you for your grace. I’ll return home to rest for a few days. As for the remaining details of the case, His Highness Yu Wang can decide. Should Yu Wang require my assistance, he need only send word.”
“You should focus on resting!” Yu Wang and the Crown Prince said in unison, then shot each other sidelong glances, sparks flying as their gazes clashed.
The Emperor felt a headache coming on and waved his hand, signaling for both his son and brother to leave as well. He then summoned Lan Xi to massage the acupoints on his head.
Finally, peace returned to the hall. As he enjoyed the rhythmic pressure of Lan Xi’s skilled hands, the Emperor sighed softly, “Sometimes I envy them—a young man in his prime and a rising sun just beginning its ascent.”
Lan Xi carefully replied, “Your Majesty is also at the peak of your years, vigorous and full of vitality. See, after only a few visits to Yongning Palace, the Imperial Concubine is already carrying the imperial heir and has given birth to a plump and healthy little prince.”
The Emperor laughed and scolded, “You old eunuch! I was reflecting on my mindset, and you steer the conversation toward the bedchamber!”
Lan Xi chuckled along. “This old servant is only concerned for Your Majesty’s health. A proper balance of yin and yang is key to harmony.”
“Balance of yin and yang…” The Emperor closed his eyes and murmured, “Does it always have to be one yin and one yang?”
Lan Xi, pondering the hidden meaning behind the Emperor’s words, answered tactfully, “Not necessarily, Your Majesty. Even in the alchemical practice of the Yellow and Red Path, there is the theory of pure yang combining qi. Moreover, as the true dragon of heaven, Your Majesty naturally commands yin and yang at will. Why be constrained by convention?”
The Emperor fell silent for a moment, then shook his head, chastising lightly, “What sophistry.”
Lan Xi smiled subtly, having grasped the underlying implications.
