Chapter 132

 

Pei Xiaoyuan was slightly moved.

He slowly knelt down again towards the person in front of him.

“People are not plants, so how can they not understand? Since this minister was summoned to the capital, Your Majesty has shown this minister great favors. Time and again, this minister has committed offenses, yet Your Majesty has granted him leniency. You even bestowed upon this minister the greatest honor—marrying the princess to this minister. Each and every kindness, this minister has engraved on his heart and will never forget. This minister knows that by coming here tonight is the gravest act of ingratitude, a betrayal beyond redemption. This minister has failed the Princess’s sincerity toward this minister, and even if this minister were to die ten thousand times, this minister could never repay a fraction of her grace. However, his minister still has to come.

“The dead are like extinguished lamps. To the world, this minister’s late father and those eight hundred fallen warriors are nothing more than idle talk over tea and meals. The sympathetic may sigh twice; the disdainful may offer a few words of scorn. Not to mention a hundred years later, there are probably not many people who can still remember them today, let alone care enough to utter curses in their name. However, for this minister, they are his father, his brother, his uncle. Each of them had a name, a family, wives, and children. They were not nameless, forgotten souls. The court historians may choose not to record Beiyuan, may erase the blood they shed for the empire as if they had never fought and died for it. But here, if this minister must act as though nothing ever happened, bury it all, and accept prosperity in exchange for silence, afraid this minister is unworthy of such fortune.”

While he was speaking, the emperor’s eyes drooped deeply, his face was indifferent, and he looked a little haggard. After he finished speaking, there was silence for a moment, and then the emperor raised his eyelids.

“So, what’s your demand that you come here tonight?” he asked calmly.

“This minister has already stated it—asking for the one behind it all to be revealed. If this minister’s late father and uncles were truly wronged, then please ask the court to grant them the justice they deserve,” Pei Xiaoyuan said, kowtowing deeply before rising to his feet.

“The explanation you seek—Zhen will give it to you when the time is right!

“That’s enough! Go back! Be a good prince consort and consider Zhen’s proposal before.”

At this point, the emperor’s voice also revealed a bit of fatigue and loneliness. He supported himself on the couch with one hand and moved his body, as if he was going to lie back down slowly. However, the young man in front of the couch did not make a sound.

It seemed he was still kneeling there, motionless.

The emperor’s half-lying body paused in the air for a moment and he frowned.

“Why, you’re not leaving yet?”

Tonight, he should never have come.

No one knew better than himself what it would mean when he came. Every layer of splendid brocade would be torn away, exposing whatever lay beneath—an unknown, perhaps unfathomable truth. And no matter what that truth turned out to be, the moment he took this step, the new world of bliss and tenderness that he had accidentally entered would no longer be his to possess.

If he had never met her—if she were not the daughter of the man before him—perhaps he could have found another way to bring an end to this twenty-year-old burden in his heart. Perhaps, even, by blood repaying blood.

However, there were no ifs anymore.

When revenge became impossible, then, all that was left was to face it head-on and seek the bare minimum of justice that the dead deserved. This was the only thing he could think of doing now. How could he turn around and leave just because of such a casual reply?

“The explanation is not for this minister. This minister doesn’t need it. The court owes it to this minister’s late father and those eight hundred fallen warriors.

“Your Majesty says that this minister is arrogant because of your favor. Indeed, this minister must be the most ungrateful man under heaven. But if they are innocent in Your Majesty’s eyes, then this minister plead once more—grant them justice now, not in some distant future.”

Pei Xiaoyuan’s clear and even voice echoed within the hall.

The emperor’s slightly reclined figure froze for a moment. Then, he straightened himself, turned his face forward, and looked ahead.

“Pei Er, who are you speaking to right now?”

There was a hint of anger in his voice. He paused and then spoke in a calmer tone: “Zhen will tell you again, Zhen will give you an explanation in the future!”

“This minister is guilty. This minister asks once more. Why can’t it be now?”

“If you have not seen the world, how can you ask the way? You are not in Zhen’s position—how can you understand Zhen’s considerations. What Zhen have spoken, Zhen will see fulfilled. There is no need to explain everything to you!” the emperor said coldly.

“This matter is not to be discussed further! Withdraw!”

He shouted softly, then groped his way to the side and slowly leaned down. Closing his eyes, he turned his back to the figure behind him and spoke no more.

Pei Xiaoyuan was still kneeling on the ground.

He slowly raised his head and stared for a long time at the skinny figure in front of him, who looked like distant mountains at dusk in late winter.

“Your Majesty.” He suddenly spoke.

“You are known as a saint. Your achievements are obvious to all. Even this minister’s own uncle highly respects you and calls you the ruler who revived the empire. Not only that, you can also be called a benevolent ruler—for you have permitted the families of the condemned to remain in Chang’an, even allowing them to work in the imperial orchards, sheltering them under a roof so they do not starve. In all of history, when has a ruler ever shown such mercy to the kin of criminals? When this minister first went to see them, what this minister heard was not their resentment and curses, but fear, and gratitude to the court and to Your Majesty. After all, exile should have been their original fate.

“Your Majesty, your imperial might and your renown as a wise ruler have long shone on the people, revered like the sun and moon. To restore honor to those who died for the country so many years ago, to grant them the recognition they deserve—this would not tarnish your illustrious name in the slightest.

“This minister once again beg Your Majesty to give them an explanation, so that the souls of the deceased can receive the proper respect and rest in peace as soon as possible, instead of waiting for a day in the future.

“They’ve been underground for almost twenty years!”

He bowed deeply, touching his forehead to the ground.

As he finished speaking, the night in the hall fell silent again.

At first, the emperor’s back did not move at all. “Are you teaching Zhen how to do things?” Suddenly, the emperor’s cold voice came from above his head.

Pei Xiaoyuan looked up and saw the emperor had turned over and sat up, facing him, his face full of gloom.

“This minister dares not.

“As a son, this is what this minister should say for his own’s father. As a subject, this is also his own’s duty, to put forward a suggestion with utmost sincerity. If by fortune this minister has not spoken in error, please asks Your Majesty to heed this minister’s words—then this minister shall ask for nothing more and shall remain forever grateful. But if this minister has been deceived by others and have uttered nothing more than the barking of a snarling dog before Your Majesty—if there are indeed burdens and considerations beyond this minister’s understanding—then this minister begs Your Majesty to correct him. This minister shall swallow back every reckless word, crawl at Your Majesty’s feet to confess his wrongs, and accept any punishment, even if it means his body is ground to dust!!”

The emperor let out a very strange, hoarse laugh.

“Zhen still underestimated your guts. Are you blatantly forcing Zhen?”

“This minister dares not.” Pei Xiaoyuan responded.

“What you don’t dare?” The emperor nodded with a strange laugh.

“Son of man! A minister! You’ve thought it through! Then Zhen asks you, when you came here tonight, where did you put your other identity? Zhen has been tolerant of you again and again. If it were not for Hao’er, do you think you would still be able to speak here at this moment?”

“This minister is just a guilty person, a coarse and unrefined warrior. To have been favored by the Princess is the greatest fortune of this minister’s life. If this minister die, then in the next life, this minister shall repay the Princess’s kindness. If by chance this minister survive, no matter what happens in the future, this minister will abide by the promise once made to Your Majesty and do his best to protect the princess until the day this minister die.”

After a brief silence, he spoke.

Amidst a series of increasingly heavy breathing, the emperor slowly raised his eyes and fully opened his eyes which had been slightly closed.

Though clouded, his eyes at this moment blazed with a fierce light, like ten thousand arrows loosed at once, all aimed at the man before him.

“Pei Xiaoyuan, do you dare say that again? Did Zhen hear you wrong? You’ve already decided—you no longer want Zhen’s Hao’er?

“You dare not want Zhen’s Hao’er!” the emperor rasped, repeating himself with force.

Pei Xiaoyuan closed his eyes and finally, prostrated himself at the emperor’s feet.

“This minister knows that coming here tonight is a capital crime, so how can this minister dare to covet the princess of the Heavenly Family?”

There was dead silence.

“Zhen’s daughter doesn’t need your protection!”

Suddenly, with a roar like a lion’s bellow and an elephant’s trumpet, the emperor slammed his palm heavily onto the couch. As his furious shout surged upward, crashing against the vaulted ceiling and rebounding off the distant corners of the hall in a never-ending echo, he erupted in rage, hurling himself up from his seat. Unexpectedly, his foot caught on the trailing hem of his robe. In an instant, his balance faltered—his body lurched forward.

The imperial desk was right in front of him, and its corners and edges were extremely solid.

Almost instinctively, Pei Xiaoyuan sprang up from the floor, arms outstretched, hurling himself forward.

He managed to hold the person up, but the next moment the emperor pushed him away fiercely. He staggered and grabbed the edge of the imperial desk, and finally stood on the ground.

He managed to stand steadily, and at first most of his body was leaning against the table for support. His crooked back was motionless, and under the light, one could see the veins throbbing on the back of his hands that were tightly gripping the edge of the table.

After a long time, his shoulders moved, and then the emperor straightened up and slowly turned around.

“Pei’s little boy! Don’t you want to know who was the mastermind back then? Listen carefully, Zhen will tell you now!

“You’re right. Zhen was the mastermind behind what happened back then!”

The emperor’s eyes were filled with gloom. He gritted his teeth and spat out these words.

Just as Pei Xiaoyuan’s expression suddenly looked defeated and the corners of his eyes twitched slightly, Han Kerang rushed into the hall accompanied by a chaotic sound of rapid footsteps mixed with the sound of swords and armor colliding.

His face was distorted and his eyes swept over Pei Xiaoyuan, whose eyelids were drooping and was motionless. “Your Majesty—” he opened his mouth anxiously.

“Get out!” the emperor shouted angrily.

Han Kerang froze.

“Didn’t you hear?” the emperor said in a very stern voice, “Who allowed you to come in?”

The old palace eunuch knelt down behind Han Kerang and kowtowed like pounding garlic.

Han Kerang finally knelt down before the emperor, kowtowed, and slowly walked out.

At this time, the emperor had straightened his body and stood proudly.

“Go!” he shouted, pointed in the direction of the sword rack, and gave orders to Pei Xiaoyuan.

“Go draw your sword! Zhen is here! Aren’t you here for revenge?”

Pei Xiaoyuan stood still.

The emperor waited for a moment and sneered.

“Pei’s little boy! Zhen has admitted it. And now what? Are you going to kill Zhen? Or do you intend to rebel, to join Li Yan and that dear friend of yours, Ashina, and rise in revolt against Zhen?”

Pei Xiaoyuan’s expression was extremely miserable. His eyes were bloodshot, red veins bursting in a web of scarlet. His teeth clenched so tightly that his jawline was as sharp as if carved by knife and chisel, and his neck was laced with taut, bulging veins.

“What I ask for—Your Majesty knows it well. Now that things have come to this, if Your Majesty agrees, it will be my good fortune. If Your Majesty insists on having your own way, it will be my death!”

He said it word by word.

“I, Pei Xiaoyuan, failing the duties of a subject, I am disloyal. Knowing who murdered my father yet unable to avenge him, I am unfilial. Coveting beauty at first, then let her down, I am heartless. Befriending traitors, setting the tiger free to return to the mountain, I am without righteousness. Such a disloyal, unfilial, heartless, and unrighteous person has no face to continue living in this world—”

He strode towards the sword rack that the emperor had just pointed at, grasped the hilt, and with a swift, backward pull—

Accompanied by the sound of a sword being unsheathed with a dragon’s roar, the evil-repelling sword was unsheathed into his grasp.

Zhao Zhongfang did not dare to go far, and just stood by the lattice door. Hearing the sound of swords being drawn in the inner hall, he was startled. Then he saw Pei Xiaoyuan holding a sword, with red eyes, walking towards the emperor step by step.

“Prince Consort! How dare you—”

He shouted sharply for the palace guards, and in the same instant, he spun around, drawing a sword from the waist of the nearest guard rushing toward him. Just as he was about to charge forward and strike down the would-be assailant—he froze in shock.

Pei Xiaoyuan stopped in front of the imperial desk.

“Let this broken body remain. Tomorrow, I shall head north to quell Ashina’s rebellion and atone for my sins.”

He placed his left hand on a corner of the imperial desk, and before Zhao Zhongfang could regain his senses and screamed in horror, he did not hesitate at all. Eyes like frozen steel, Pei Xiaoyuan swung the sword down in a brutal arc.

The sharp blade fell. A severed fingertip landed on the table.

His face turned deathly pale, as if shrouded in the frost of an ancient winter.

Having cut off his own finger, he released the sword, clenched his bleeding hand into a fist, and without a word, turned and strode toward the exit.

The emperor lunged forward, hands trembling as they grasped the still-warm severed finger. He bowed his head, his expression a tangled storm of shock, fury, and dread. For a moment, he was frozen. Then he lifted his head, and all that remained on his face was unbridled rage.

“Pei Er! You ruthless man! My daughter has treated you with all her sincerity, and you have already wronged her—but this? Do you wish to shatter her heart completely?

“You have hated Zhen from the very start! From the first moment Zhen saw you, Zhen could see it! You used Zhen’s daughter to take revenge on Zhen! If you hadn’t deliberately seduced her, how could she set her heart on you!

“Zhen will kill you here and now, you heartless lunatic—”

The emperor grabbed the blood-stained sword that had been thrown away, followed the sound of boots and the vague shadow in front of him, and chased after him.

Pei Xiaoyuan stopped.

He turned slowly, letting his injured hand bleed, and looked at the emperor holding a sword, rushing towards him viciously.

At this moment, another set of hurried footsteps came from behind the lattice door.

Xuyu rushed in with a chill all over her body and turned through the lattice door.

The emperor had already caught up to Pei Xiaoyuan. He looked fiercely at the vague figure in front of him, thrust his sword fiercely, and stabbed at him randomly.

But this person neither resisted nor dodged at all.

“Father! Stop—”

Xuyu was so frightened that she screamed and rushed towards the figure in front of her who obviously had no intention of dodging, and pushed him away.

In the next instant, she felt a sharp, ice-cold bite on her shoulder—something with jagged fangs sinking into her flesh. The brief sting swiftly morphed into searing agony.

The emperor’s sword had pierced her left shoulder. Only then did he realize what he had done.

“Hao’er!”

The emperor was stunned for a moment, then with a bang, he threw away the evil-repelling sword stained with two streams of blood in his hand.

“Hao’er! Are you alright? Did Father hurt you?”

The extremely anxious emperor reached out his hands randomly to hug and touch his daughter.

Blood quickly seeped out of the shoulder part of the coat.

Xuyu sniffed the sweet fishy smell of blood and suddenly felt her stomach churning. The feeling of wanting to vomit that had troubled her several times came back again. But this time, she felt dizzy and there seemed to be a constant buzzing in her ears.

She endured the pain in her shoulder and said with difficulty, “I’m fine.”

“Father, you shouldn’t be like this, killing people at every turn—”

Before she could finish her words, she could no longer hold on and her voice gradually faded away.

Pei Xiaoyuan jumped up in shock, rushed over, and hugged her in his arms.

“Get lost!”

The emperor had already felt the warm, sticky blood on his daughter’s shoulder. His eyes immediately grew furious. He pushed away the young man who was holding Xuyu and caught his daughter who had fallen down.

“Someone come! Call the imperial physician—”

The emperor’s hoarse and frightened roar instantly filled the entire tall and quiet Ziyun Palace.

Xuyu fell into a silent, lightless world of tranquility. It was a peace as pure as that of a newborn—free of thoughts, free of dreams—something she had not felt since the days before she recalled her past, when she traveled the land with her grandfather.

Back then, when it was cold, she added layers. When hungry, she ate. When weary, she simply closed her eyes and surrendered to sleep.

She fell into a deep sleep, which she had not experienced for a long time. She was so reluctant to leave and wanted to sleep forever, never waking up. Yet, something unseen tugged at her fingertips—an invisible thread pulling, twitching, reaching toward her heart. It tapped lightly, like a bird’s beak against her chest. What lay at the other end of that thread? In the haze of her dream, she could not remember. But she knew—she had to wake up. Something was waiting for her. Someone. The weight of that unseen bond grew stronger, heavier, until it filled her entire being.

Finally, she slowly opened her eyes and found herself lying on the bed in her palace bedroom.

With a blank mind as if she had just woken up, she turned around and looked over.

It seemed to be late at night, the curtains behind the window were hanging down, and a few candles were flickering on the copper lamp stand near the bed, reflecting the golden reflections on the embroidered silk on the curtains. Several young palace maids were sitting on the mats, with their heads down and dozing off because they had nothing to do.

There was a faint bitter smell of medicine in her nose, and it was so quiet that a pin drop could be heard.

She moved on the pillow, and the slight pain in her shoulder made her pause suddenly. Then, all the memories before she fell asleep came back to her mind.

She sat up straight in shock. Ignoring the pain from her shoulder injury, she threw aside the quilt and got off the bed, put on a pair of cloud-patterned palace shoes placed in front of the bed, wrapped herself in a shawl hanging beside her, and ran out.

The noise she made woke up the palace maids, and they all got up and chased after her.

The princess had been in a coma for a day and a night. The imperial physician had examined her many times and said that her shoulder injury was not serious, but that she was just tired and exhausted. She might wake up after enough rest, but she did not open her eyes.

Under normal circumstances, the imperial physician would have been punished and terrified. Fortunately, the emperor remained unusually silent this time, staying awake and accompanying her personally until the first half of the night, when he could no longer hold on and was sent back.

Yang Zai’en went to ask the imperial physician who stayed behind about the princess’s condition. When he came in from the outside, he ran into Xuyu running out with a panicked look on her face and her hair disheveled. He was surprised and immediately knew what she was worried about. He stepped forward and said, “Don’t worry, princess! His Majesty has been with you all the time and has only returned not long ago. His Majesty is fine!”

Xuyu paused, calmed herself down, raised her head and asked, “Where’s Prince Consort? How is he?”

After she asked, Yang Zai’en showed hesitation. Her heart skipped a beat, the blood in her body froze, and her legs went weak.

“My father… killed him?” She asked in a trembling voice, remembering the scene where the emperor drew his sword and stabbed him angrily.

Yang Zai’en waved his hands hurriedly and went to held Xuyu.

“Princess, you misunderstood! Prince Consort was only thrown into prison, his life is not in danger.”

Xuyu closed her eyes, calmed her still pounding heart, and when her thoughts settled down a little, she continued walking out.

“I’m going to see my father.” She stated in a low voice.

“Princess, please walk carefully!”

Yang Zai’en hurriedly took the thick cloak handed to him by the palace maid, wrapped it around her, and carefully supported her, as if she was made of glass that would break at the slightest touch.

“It’s cold outside and the roads are slippery. Princess, please take care of yourself. The imperial physician said…”

He paused, wanting to say something but stopping himself, with a rather strange look on his face, and it was hard to tell whether he was happy or worried.

“What did the imperial physician say was wrong with me?” Xuyu heard something behind Yang Zai’en’ words and asked.

Yang Zai’en paused before spoke softly, “Princess, the imperial physician said that the Princess is pregnant.”

Xuyu stopped.

“The imperial physician said that although the Princess has suffered injuries and is physically exhausted, the happy pulse… is unmistakably clear. It remains smooth and bead-like throughout, which shows… it shows that the fetus is stable and closely connected to the Princess… There should be no major concerns… However, even so, the Princess must exercise the utmost caution…”

The princess was pregnant, which should have been a happy event worthy of celebration, but it happened at such a delicate time.

When the news left the physician’s lips, His Majesty the Emperor, at first, seemed to grow even more furious. But soon after, he fell into silence. Apart from ordering the imperial physicians to dedicate all efforts to the princess’ care, he did not express a single word of opinion on the matter.

Yang Zai’en didn’t know whether this news was good or bad for the princess, and how the matter with the prince consort would end. He carefully observed the princess’s expression, while weighing his words and explaining cautiously.

In a daze as if she had suddenly fallen into mist, Xuyu subconsciously raised her hand slowly and placed her palm on her flat, normal belly. She could hardly believe it—just like that, within her, there was now a small, unfamiliar presence of flesh and blood that had never belonged to her before.

She recalled that night, in the small pavilion in the west hall of Ziyun Palace, where the mural of her mother transformed into the Queen Mother of the West adorned the walls. Feeling utterly alone and afraid, she had clung to him, seeking his tenderness and comfort.

Was that night the cause, sowing the seed that had now borne fruit in this moment?

This little piece of flesh and blood that hid obediently in her body and rarely disturbed her, so that she was not aware of it at all, came here to continue to accompany her?

“Princess! Princess!”

It was not until she heard Yang Za’ien’ voice calling her with a bit of panic in her ears that Xuyu realized her face was slightly wet and cold.

She turned her face away, raised her hand to wipe away the wetness on her face, stood still for a moment, and said again: “I’m going to see Father.”

Yet, after days of sleepless and anxious vigil, the emperor could no longer hold on. After taking the medicine, he fell into a deep sleep.

Xuyu sat in front of the bed, put her hand under the quilt, and held the emperor’s cold hand for a long time. She stared at her father’s face with his eyes closed on the bed, and never felt his extreme old age as strongly as at this moment. It was like a withered old tree with sparse branches and leaves, and was struck by a lightning that destroyed it.

She had long understood the inevitable truth—since one comes, who does not eventually leave? Birth, aging, sickness, and death were the shared destinies of all living beings. Whether emperors and generals, heroes and beauties, or mere commoners and peddlers, none could escape it. And yet, looking at him now, so frail and diminished, she couldn’t help but recall the moment when, though blind, he had still flown into a rage, sword in hand, determined to strike down the man he believed had wronged his daughter. The memory surfaced before her eyes, and a faint heat welled up once more in her vision.

The emperor was not a good man. His hands were steeped in blood, and perhaps, he owed far too many debts to far too many people.

However, he was her father after all.

She accompanied him silently for a while, then stood up and walked out, whispering to the old palace eunuch who looked equally haggard and had not slept for several days and nights: “Zhao Bandang, you insisted that I took the carriage, is it because you want me to have a shorter journey back? Thank you very much. You should also go and rest, don’t tire yourself out.”

The old palace eunuch’s eyes were moist.

“This old servant is useless. Can do nothing else.”

“Zhao Bandang, you have done your best and helped me a lot.” She said with sincere gratitude.

She couldn’t imagine what would have happened if she had been a step later—under the hands of an emperor so consumed by rage that he had nearly lost all reason.

She could feel that at that moment, the emperor’s murderous intent was like a dam bursting.

If she hadn’t been hurt by mistake, afraid even she wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

“Princess, you should also go and rest. You are injured, and also…”

Zhao Zhongfang glanced at her belly with a complicated expression, revealing deep worry that he dared not express.

Xuyu followed his gaze and looked down at her belly, smiling slightly: “I’ve had enough sleep, it’s fine.”

Zhao Zhongfang gazed at her for a moment, as if realizing something. At last, he let out a low sigh, then spoke in a voice barely louder than a whisper: “Prince Consort is temporarily held in Yuan Zhi’s secret prison. This old servant has some past acquaintance with him and can still manage to say a few words. His hand injury has been treated. Naturally, life inside cannot compare to the outside world, but at the very least, he should not be suffering too greatly…”

Xuyu was silent for a moment, then said, “Zhao Bandang, you were the closest at that time. Tell me everything that happened when my father met with Prince Consort.

“Don’t miss a single word.”

Zhao Zhongfang did not hesitate, and answered yes. He led Xuyu to the pavilion, closed the door, and told the whole thing again. After he finished, he kept silent, his face gloomy. As for who was right or wrong, he did not comment at all.

“Zhao Bandang, where is Prince Ning? I’ll go see him.”

After a long time, Xuyu suddenly said.

 

Translator’s note:

The truth will be finally revealed next chapter, but

I’m going to take a week off. So as a consolation, I didn’t cut this long chapter into two.

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