Read Novel Full CHAPTER 35 PART1
CHAPTER 35 PART1
“I am here,” Gu Feichi replied, his tone neither humble nor overbearing. He neither stood nor bowed.
Those simple words were laden with meaning—uttered without a trace of fear.
The emperor’s face was clouded with fury, his limbs already gone cold from rage.
For a long moment, his right hand twitched, as if he meant to point at Gu Feichi and order his immediate arrest. But just as his arm rose an inch, he forced it down and clenched his hand into a fist, veins bulging across the back of it.
Liang Zheng had been watching the emperor’s expression closely, his heart tightening with unease.
The emperor’s chronic head pains were often triggered by intense emotional upheaval. If his fury exploded now and his condition flared up again, he might come to believe the medicine was ineffective—which meant the slim advantage Liang Zheng had so painstakingly secured would vanish in an instant.
Clenching his jaw, Liang Zheng braved the emperor’s scorching glare and ventured a distraction: “Your Majesty, the weather outside looks lovely today. Would you like to take a walk?”
“Master Wu Liang once said that frequent walks are beneficial to Your Majesty’s health.”
The emperor said nothing. His face remained stone-cold, unreadable.
The tension in the air thickened. Liang Zheng could feel his heart climbing up his throat.
After a long, oppressive silence, the emperor finally moved.
He rose abruptly from the couch, flung his sleeves, and stormed out.
That tall, straight back of his was like a blade—rigid, sharp—his entire figure engulfed in a dark, brooding aura.
Gu Feichi, however, remained unmoved.
He calmly picked up his wine cup and took a leisurely sip.
The mask on his face hid his expression, but his eyes gleamed, razor-sharp.
In those eyes was a bold arrogance, and at the corners of his lips, a faint, mocking smile. So brazen, so alluring—it caught Xiao Yanfei off guard. For a moment, she found herself dazed, locked once again in a gaze with Gu Feichi.
Without a word, Xiao Yanfei slowly lifted the white porcelain wine pot and poured herself a cup.
It was a cup of lotus wine—clear and translucent, with a faint green hue. Tiny pink petals, no larger than a fingernail, floated gently atop the liquid, releasing a delicate, elegant fragrance. The subtle aroma of the wine was perfectly balanced—neither too strong nor too faint.
Xiao Yanfei lifted the dainty cup between her fingers and, smiling brightly, raised it in a toast toward Gu Feichi at the distant Waterside Pavilion.
Gu Feichi curved his lips in a smile and lifted his own cup in return.
The next moment, they saw Xiao Yanfei turn, raise her cup toward the north, and, with a graceful sweep of her arm, flung its contents to the ground.
A crisp splash echoed as the lotus wine scattered, each droplet catching the sunlight like falling pearls.
The gesture was simple yet striking—elegant, dignified, and imbued with a quiet solemnity.
“…”
Gu Feichi’s fingers unconsciously tightened around his wine cup. He froze, and suddenly—he understood.
The left hand.
In traditional rites, the left hand was used in offerings to the dead, not to toast the living.
That cup of wine… it hadn’t been meant for him.
It had been offered to the fallen souls of the northern front.
To her family.
To the hundred thousand loyal soldiers of the Golden Scale Army.
She knew.
She actually knew.
A surge of overwhelming emotion rose in his chest—shock, grief, sorrow…
As if she had gently strummed a chord deep within him, and now that sound reverberated, refusing to fade.
Xiao Yanfei poured herself a second cup.
This time, she raised it with her right hand and offered it to him.
Tilting her head slightly, she drained the cup in one clean motion.
Almost at the same time, Gu Feichi also tipped his head back and emptied his cup.
His movements were smooth and effortless, with an easy grace that carried an innate nobility.
He turned the empty cup downward, its rim facing the earth, and smiled faintly.
In that moment, the sunlight seemed to catch in his eyes, and even the splendor of spring all around paled before that quiet, radiant smile.
Xiao Yanfei: “…”
For some inexplicable reason, an image suddenly surfaced in her mind—A bewitching fox spirit, charming all who saw it, stealing hearts with a single glance.
For one brief moment, her mind went completely blank. She lost all sense of where she was.
It wasn’t until Princess Ning Shu’s soft voice whispered at her side, “Yanyan,”
that she finally came back to herself.
Princess Ning Shu bent her elbow and gently bumped Xiao Yanfei’s arm, mumbling,
“What are you thinking about?”
She then waved a hand in front of Xiao Yanfei’s face, as if to say: Has your soul flown away?
“What?” Xiao Yanfei smiled, her dimples deepening, her expression radiant and effortlessly graceful.
Princess Ning Shu smothered a laugh and pointed toward a certain direction in the Tianyi Waterside Pavilion.
“Look.”
Her slender index finger aimed squarely at the Heir of the Duke of Cheng’en.
He was currently being helped to his feet by two palace maids, his body trembling slightly as he struggled to rise.
“Big Brother!” Liu Chaoyun hurried over to his elder brother’s side, his face flushed a furious red.
The Heir’s legs were shaking beneath him. His body felt weak and unstable, his spine barely straight.
He could feel the weight of every mocking, contemptuous glance around him—and wanted nothing more than to disappear.
When his gaze fell once more on Gu Feichi, his eyes burned with hatred.
But Gu Feichi merely cast him a casual glance, light as a breeze.
That one look was all it took—
The Heir’s legs buckled again.
He stumbled backward and collapsed into his chair, a messy strand of hair falling loose at his temple.
Princess Ning Shu couldn’t hold back any longer and burst into laughter, her voice crisp and clear, utterly unrestrained.
In an instant, the surrounding area fell into an even deeper silence.
Aside from Empress Liu and the Liu family—whose expressions had turned even uglier—most others were struggling to hold in their laughter.
Still, they made some effort to be discreet: some covered their mouths, others lowered their heads.
None were as bold or unrestrained as the young Princess.
“That Liu Jia is so annoying,” Princess Ning Shu whispered into Xiao Yanfei’s ear, her soft voice full of delicate outrage.
“Hmph! The Empress even tried to marry me into their family.”
“I already refused, but he just wouldn’t give up. In the end, I gave him a good beating.”
“The entire Liu family is the worst!”
Liu Chaoyun was awful, Liu Jia was worse, and the Duke of Cheng’en? Utter scum.
As she spoke, her full pink lips pouted in indignation.
“Beating?” Xiao Yanfei raised an eyebrow, eyes lighting up as she recalled the princess’s swift and skillful moves the last time she’d ambushed someone with a sack.
“My whip technique was taught by my mother,” Princess Ning Shu said proudly, puffing up a little.
“She told me that before she was married, she loved sneaking off to the Duke of Weiguo’s estate to crash martial lessons with the former Empress.”
“She always said, ‘If a girl is raised too delicate and fragile, she’ll spend her life at the mercy of others.’ Yanyan, do you know Prince Ning? He’s already married four wives—and rumor has it the first three were beaten to death by his own hand. And yet, families still send their daughters into his household! I just don’t get it!”
“A woman,” she declared, “needs to have hard fists!”
As she spoke, she raised her tiny fist in mock threat, showing it off.
The golden tassels of her chijin hairpin danced with the movement, three strands of beads swaying like sunlight, reflecting in her eyes like morning stars.
Impressive.
Xiao Yanfei gave the princess a firm thumbs-up.
Princess Ning Shu didn’t quite understand the gesture, but guessed it was a compliment. Tilting her head with smug delight, she said, “Wanna learn? I’ll teach you!”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Xiao Yanfei nodded eagerly, like a chicken pecking rice.
Of course she wanted to learn. Horseback riding, archery, fistwork, whip techniques—those were survival skills.
The two young girls grew more animated as they talked, their cheerful conversation forming a stark contrast to the strained, frozen atmosphere around them.
Crown Prince Tang Yueze’s thoughts were a tangle of emotions.
He glanced at the emperor’s retreating figure, then at Empress Liu, who was trembling with rage like a leaf in the wind.
He hesitated for a moment—but in the end, chose not to console her.
Instead, he left his seat and quickly followed after the emperor.
Outside the waterside pavilion, the emperor strode briskly along the lakeside path, hands clasped behind his back.
Tang Yueze followed in silence, keeping a respectful few paces behind him.
Willows by the shore dipped their slender branches into the lake, the ripples catching the light.
In the distance, layers of verdant peaks rose one after another, shrouded in drifting clouds and mist.
The emperor gazed far ahead, his brow tightly furrowed, his expression shifting between light and shadow.
Only after a long while did his pace finally begin to slow.
Seeing that his father’s mood had eased that Tang Yueze ventured gently, “Father, please don’t let Gu Feichi trouble your heart. The Duke of Weiguo’s household has always been arrogant, drunk on their merits.”
“From the old Duke to Gu Feichi—they’ve always been this way.”
The emperor suddenly stopped in his tracks.
He turned to look at his eldest son, and for the first time, the sharpness in his expression gave way to something softer—almost fatherly affection.
He sighed heavily and said, “Of course I know.”
“Ah-Ze, everything I do is for you.”
“I understand,” Tang Yueze replied, warmth rising in his chest—along with a faint ache.
He knew the emperor truly doted on him. His father had always granted his wishes without hesitation.
Only when it came to his marriage…
At that moment, the emperor suddenly unfolded the folding fan in his hand with a sharp snap.
Unfolded across the fan was a striking landscape painting.
Verdant mountains rose in layered succession, stretching endlessly across the paper.
Rivers surged forward in sweeping strokes—bold and fluid—capturing a scene both majestic and alive with motion, rendered with masterful control of ink and wash.
“Ah-Ze, remember this—everything I do is for you.”
The Emperor solemnly handed the fan, which he had painted himself, into Tang Yueze’s hands.
His tone was heavy with meaning. “For your future, I must ensure you inherit a stable and unified empire.”
Even as Emperor, he could not act on mere impulse.
A sovereign had to weigh the greater picture—maintain balance, wield strategy, and sometimes, endure.
No matter how much he loathed the Duke of Weiguo and his son, he would bear it—for now. For the empire’s sake, he would wait.
Tang Yueze, raised and personally guided by the emperor since childhood, understood his father’s intent well.
He nodded solemnly, both hands respectfully receiving the folding fan.
“I understand, Father.”
The emperor’s gaze softened as he looked at his beloved son, his expression tinged with both comfort and paternal pride.
The fan was light in form, yet it felt heavy in Tang Yueze’s hands.
His expression grew grave as the weight of its significance settled in.
Standing by the lakeside, the emperor clasped his hands behind his back once more, his eyes gleaming with insight.
His voice carried a steady resolve as he continued his guidance:
“Ah-Ze, Gu Feichi is reckless and defiant by nature, but like his father, he is a born commander.”
“Whether it’s Gu Feichi or the Duke of Weiguo, Dajing cannot afford to lose them.”
To the north, the Changdi tribes watched with predatory eyes.
To the south, the Nanman stirred restlessly.
The western Xirong had only recently quieted, and even now were merely lying in wait, recuperating in silence.
As long as the father and son of the Duke of Weiguo stood guard, the Xirong dared not make a move.
***