Shen Qi hadn’t slept all night. He sat at the table in his bedroom, repeatedly polishing the blade of his shining Xiuchun Blade.
The secret Feng Que had revealed was monumental and oppressive, a weight like Mount Tai pressing down on him, threatening to crush his mortal frame to dust.
What gnawed at him most was regret—why had he listened? He should have just cut out Feng Que’s tongue and let this secret rot in the grave along with him. How much simpler that would have been.
But regret was fleeting. Shen Qi quickly discarded such useless and self-defeating emotions. They neither helped the situation nor alleviated his burden. He had walked a blood-soaked path to reach this point, and he would continue forward, resolute and unyielding, by any means necessary.
Expressionless, Shen Qi continued to polish the blade, but Feng Que’s raspy, strained voice still echoed in his mind:
“This secret is… The current emperor… is not the true emperor! Neither he nor his younger brother, Yu Wang, are the bloodline of the late emperor!”
“Heh, you’re stunned, aren’t you? You don’t believe it…. When I first learned this secret, I had the same expression. But it’s true. Before ascending the throne, the founding emperor was Qin Wang, stationed at the border. His territory bordered the vast northern desert, and Shanxi was part of his domain. The current empress dowager, then Qin Wangfei, gave birth to two sons during his prolonged absences for battle.”
“Rumors spread within the household, claiming that the Qin Wangfei had an affair and that these two sons weren’t royal blood. Qin Wang silenced the gossip with ruthless orders, spilling rivers of blood both within the household and among the common folk. The rumors ceased.”
“Qin Wangfei not only convinced Qin Wang of her innocence but also strengthened his resolve to prioritize lineage over primogeniture. Upon ascending the throne, he appointed the second son, the current emperor, as the crown prince.
“Nineteen years ago, the current emperor ascended the throne. For the first few years, he maintained harmonious relations with his brothers. But thirteen years ago, when Xin Wang attempted rebellion, the emperor acted decisively, eliminating him. He followed this by producing a ‘final edict’ from the late emperor, systematically stripping the border princes of their military power and confining them to their territories. One by one, the princes were neutralized— Liao Wang, Wei Wang, Gu Wang, Ning Wang… and finally, his own younger brother, Yu Wang, once known as Dai Wang.
“At that time, I served Xin Wang.”
Shen Qi knew about the case of Xin Wang’s treason. At the time, though only a twelve-year-old boy, he had already been forced to mature prematurely by the hardships of life. Alongside his concubine-born mother, he endured the oppression and bullying of the legitimate wife. With his father bedridden from a stroke and unable to rely on him, Shen Qi sought to find a means of livelihood and hoped to separate from the family as soon as possible.
He heard that the Embroidered Uniform Guard was recruiting brave and resourceful young men from both noble families and commoner backgrounds. Determined to join, he sought out an old acquaintance of his father’s—a deputy commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard about to retire. However, due to his young age, it wasn’t until three years later that he finally succeeded in enlisting. During that time, Shen Qi paid close attention to court affairs and heard about Xin Wang’s rebellion. Xin Wang had raised an army in defiance, was ultimately captured, and sentenced to death along with the confiscation of his household. The case was presided over by none other than Li Chengfeng, the current Grand Secretary of the cabinet.
Unexpectedly, Feng Que, who had only been a Embroidered Uniform Guard Qianshishi over a decade ago, was already involved with Xin Wang back then.
“After Xin Wang’s death, I feared being implicated and laid low for several years before striving with all my might to climb the ranks. It wasn’t until last year that a messenger from Ning Wang approached me, revealing the truth about the Xin Wang case.”
“Xin Wang held evidence of the Wangfei’s affair, provided by someone formerly from the Qin Wang’s household. Because of this, he harbored resentment and raised an army in rebellion. After his defeat and capture, he exposed this scandal in front of the current emperor. Enraged, His Majesty rescinded the original decree of exile to a walled residence and directly sentenced him to death. Concerned about the feudal lords wielding excessive military power and threatening the throne, the emperor subsequently ordered their forced migration to the capital, the stripping of their titles, and the revocation of their military authority.”
“Ning Wang and Xin Wang were born of the same mother. He approached me hoping that, out of gratitude for my former master, I would act as his informant within the court. At the same time, he used this old scandal to threaten me. If I refused, he would reveal my involvement as a remnant of Xin Wang’s faction, and the emperor would never spare me. Conversely, if I served him, when he eventually achieved great power, I would be rewarded as a founding contributor, gaining wealth and influence effortlessly.
“So, I pledged allegiance to Ning Wang. On one hand, I dealt with the foolish and shortsighted Wei family, forming a temporary alliance with the relative clan to manipulate and destabilize the Eastern Palace, shaking the empire’s foundation. On the other hand, I provoked discord between Yu Wang and the emperor, using cases like Yun Xi’s and Ye Donglou’s to frame him. This was to compel the emperor to punish Yu Wang repeatedly, forcing him into a corner until he had no choice but to rebel. Although Yu Wang surrendered his military power years ago, his influence in the army remains. Once chaos erupts, Ning Wang will seize the opportunity.”
Ning Wang also plans to rebel! Shen Qi’s heart sank as he absorbed the information. He asked, “Why are you telling me these secrets?” Given Feng Que’s hatred for him, it was unlikely he would reveal such knowledge simply to allow Shen Qi to report it to the emperor and gain favor.
Despite being tortured and on the brink of death, Feng Que seemed reinvigorated by Shen Qi’s question. His dim eyes lit up with a twisted and fervent light, and he let out a chilling, vengeful laugh. Like a ghost who had turned his grudge into a curse, he said: “Because you are the perfect candidate… As my enemy, you not only send me to the afterlife but are also destined to inherit my legacy. Doesn’t that sound beautifully poetic, as if guided by fate?”
Shen Qi sneered. “Once I’m out of the imperial prison, I’ll sell you and your delusional master for a good price.”
“You wouldn’t dare. You know no emperor can tolerate someone who knows his secrets.” Feng Que was resolute. “The moment you learned this secret, I dragged you into the mire.”
“You could report it to the emperor and live in fear of being silenced. Or you could continue your dealings with Ning Wang, serving him and reaping rewards as a hero once he rises to power.
“Or, you could pretend you heard nothing, yet spend your life tormented by this secret, unable to find peace.
“Isn’t this the grandest, longest, and most perfect revenge? Against you, the emperor, and that naive Su brat who shared my downfall. Against this nation that forced me into a corner.”
Feng Que coughed violently, blood seeping from his back and staining the torture bed. “For ten years, I’ve used and taught you. Now, I impart one final lesson—secrets should never be heard lightly.”
With a resounding clang, Shen Qi sheathed his embroidered spring blade and threw the cloth he used to polish it onto the table.
He gave a frosty smile to the ghost-like figure of his former superior: Your revenge has nothing to do with me. Whether this empire’s ruler is a true heir or not is none of my concern. Do you really think a baseless secret could torment me? Absurd!
Ambition unmatched by ability, compounded by misplaced loyalty, spells doom—like you, Feng Que.
As for me, Shen Qi, my loyalty belongs to no one but myself. And what I want—ultimate power? A noble title? Boundless wealth? Perhaps. But those are distant, elusive dreams. For now, what I desire most is one person—
Shen Qi affixed his blade to his waist, rose, and pushed open the door. He stepped outside, letting the growing morning light bathe him completely.
Squinting at the sun, he suddenly asked, “What time is it?”
A maid waiting in the corridor replied, “Almost mid-morning, Lord.”
Shen Qi slapped the railing, visibly annoyed. “It’s the seventh of June! I wasted an entire night and missed the appointed hour.”
“It is indeed the seventh of June. Did something important slip your mind?” The maid looked puzzled.
“Bring me a set of casual clothes,” Shen Qi ordered.
He had barely changed out of his uniform when Gao Shuo rushed in, reporting breathlessly, “An inner attendant from the Eastern Palace, Fu Bao, came and took Lord Su away.”
Shen Qi paused, then gritted his teeth. The crown prince, though young, harbored ulterior motives. That night in the small southern courtyard, Shen Qi had seen his intentions toward Qinghe were far from pure. With his penchant for bells, painted nails, and lewd thoughts, the crown prince had even come to Shen Qi’s residence to openly snatch someone last month. Qinghe, being innocent and oblivious, assumed the crown prince merely saw him as a playmate and remained completely unguarded. If Shen Qi delayed any longer, the crown prince might steal away his heart’s treasure!
With that in mind, Shen Qi put his uniform back on and instructed Gao Shuo, “Prepare the horse. I’m going to the palace to seek an audience with His Majesty.”
***
Inside Duanben Palace, the crown prince had gone from anxious to bored. After driving out the servants in a fit of anger, he propped his legs up on the desk, doodling over the spring-themed paintings left by his tutor with a brush dipped in ink.
Looking at the painting’s intimate scenes, he muttered, “What makeup is this? Eyebrows like hooks and cheeks like monkey butts.” He promptly blackened the woman’s face.
Then he stared at her chest. “Such cumbersome lumps.” Blackened.
Next, his gaze fell lower. Something seemed to be missing. He added two rounded blobs and a line between them with a flourish—
“Young master! Lord Su has arrived at the palace gates!” A panting inner servant burst in, shouting from outside the hall.
Startled, the crown prince’s hand slipped, drawing a long ink line across the painting.
What kind of… He fumed and yelled toward the door, “Why are you shouting?”
The servant, cowering on the floor, whimpered, “Didn’t you order me to report as soon as I saw him?”
“Oh, Qinghe is here!” The crown prince finally registered, hastily tossing the brush aside. He crumpled the ruined painting and looked around for a hiding spot. With nowhere else in sight, he shoved it into a large peacock-feathered vase.
After composing himself, he smoothed his clothes, beaming as he dashed out. Realizing he might appear too eager, he cleared his throat and slowed his steps, adopting a dignified posture as he strode forward.
Su Yan bowed and said, “Long live the young master.”
Zhu Helin, seeing Su Yan clad in a striking crimson ceremonial robe embroidered with gold-threaded cranes, found his gaze irresistibly drawn to Su Yan’s jade-like exposed skin on his neck and wrists. He grinned and said, “I’m not the one to be celebrated today—it’s your seventeenth birthday!”
At Zhu Helin’s signal, a servant stepped forward with a tray.
Zhu Helin picked up a golden cup and handed it to Su Yan, saying earnestly, “Wishing you good health and endless fortune.”
“Thank you, young master.” Su Yan accepted the cup with a smile. He intended to down it in one gulp but underestimated the cup’s depth. Pausing twice for breath before finishing, he remarked, “This wine is crisp and refreshing, with a hint of sweetness. It’s an excellent drink, though the cup is a tad large.”
“This is royal wine, called Cold Pool Fragrance. It’s brewed using water from icy mountain pools, giving it a uniquely cool taste. But beware of its potent aftereffects; it’s not meant to be consumed in excess.”
“If it’s not for heavy drinking, why pour me such a large cup? Are you trying to get me drunk?” Su Yan teased, his cheeks already tinged with a faint blush from the alcohol, like peach blossoms in the snow.
Zhu Helin’s underlying intentions of persuading Su Yan to stay overnight were laid bare. Embarrassed, he chuckled, “How could I not know your capacity? Apart from that one incident during the Dragon Boat Festival, you can easily down half a jin in one sitting.”
Su Yan internally acknowledged that the lower alcohol content of this era’s unrefined brews made them easier to handle than modern spirits, but a cup this large was still no joke—especially when mixing wines, which could quickly lead to intoxication. From now on, I’ll just take small sips during toasts to avoid getting drunk, he resolved.
“You summoned me urgently today, young master. Was it just to offer congratulations and a cup of wine?” he asked.
“In addition to celebrating your birthday, there’s something else,” Zhu Helin began. “Now that you’re seventeen, have you undergone the coming of age ceremony yet?”
Su Yan thought for a moment and replied, “Not yet.”
“According to tradition, a man is considered of age only after completing the guanli ceremony,” Zhu Helin explained. “The Zhou rites say men come of age at twenty, but nowadays, most have their ceremony at sixteen or seventeen. I think today is the perfect occasion for yours.”
“But isn’t the ceremony traditionally officiated by an elder from one’s family? My relatives are all far away, thousands of miles from the capital…”
Zhu Helin leaned close, whispering conspiratorially in his ear, “Borrow mine.”
“Huh?”
“Yesterday, I mentioned this to my father, and he agreed to officiate for you. Everything is prepared. All that’s missing is you.”
Su Yan was startled. “The emperor officiating my coming-of-age ceremony? How is that appropriate?”
“What’s so inappropriate about it?” Zhu Helin laughed heartily. “Just don’t think of him as the emperor today. Imagine him as a… a family elder!” He almost let slip the word “father” but quickly swallowed it, embarrassed by his own wandering thoughts of romanticized storybook scenarios. His face flushed as he imagined wedding ceremonies and formal exchanges of vows, much to his own chagrin.
Who would dare treat the imperial family as kin unless they were courting disaster? Su Yan was silently criticizing Zhu Helin’s reckless whims when he noticed the crown prince’s flushed face. He asked, “Are you drunk?”
“I haven’t even had a sip!”
“Then why is your face redder than mine?”
“I… I’m just hot! It’s too warm today!” Zhu Helin stammered, tugging at his collar for ventilation. He ordered servants to bring ice basins and then turned to Su Yan. “I consulted the Imperial Astronomer, and he said that today’s hour of the Wei is an auspicious hour. Stay for lunch, and after that, I’ll take you to the Hall of Mental Cultivation for the ceremony. It was supposed to be held in Zhai Palace, but Father said you wouldn’t like the pomp and ceremony, so it’s been simplified for intimacy.”
Su Yan had no choice but to accept this arrangement and asked, “When will the emperor arrive at the Hall of Mental Cultivation? I should go earlier to be ready.”
“Royal Father is free after morning court but was pulled aside by Imperial Concubine Wei to see the new prince.”
Zhu Helin pouted. “A wrinkled red-skinned monkey of a baby, I don’t know what’s so fascinating about him.” Noticing Su Yan’s disapproving look, he quickly added with a sheepish smile, “Don’t worry, I’m only saying this to you. Outside, I’m all smiles and spring breezes, just as you advised.”
Su Yan chuckled. “Who admits to being insincere like that?”
“It’s the truth,” Zhu Helin sighed. “Especially with people I dislike. Like Marquis Fengan—that night when he tried to search my carriage, I wanted to draw my sword and strike him down, but I restrained myself and kept it civil.”
“That was masterfully handled. No, I should say it was remarkable—decisive, deft, and far beyond my expectations,” Su Yan praised. “In just a few months, you’ve matured a lot.”
Zhu Helin preened. “Of course. I’m a man now!”
Su Yan, suddenly playful, gave him a mischievous once-over and asked, “Where exactly are you a man?”
Zhu Helin grabbed Su Yan’s wrist and bared his teeth. “Everywhere! Do you want proof of my manhood?”
Su Yan burst into laughter. “Proof, you say? Hmm, maybe in two… three… four or five years, I’ll check for myself.”
Zhu Helin was so angry he nearly blew steam out of his ears, but he forced himself to maintain his “mature man” demeanor, despite turning crimson again. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Just wait! One day, I’ll make you acknowledge my greatness—kneeling before me in admiration!”
