Read Novel Full CHAPTER 53 PART1
CHAPTER 53 PART1
Liu Jia’s eyes widened, his pupils contracting in shock.
This time, he couldn’t help but retreat a step. His lower back knocked hard against the sharp corner of a table, and he yelped in pain.
“Well said!”
A crisp round of applause rang out from behind him.
He turned sharply toward the sound. The private room known as the “Bow Chamber” had opened without his noticing.
Inside sat six or seven people. The one clapping was an elderly woman with silver-threaded hair, dressed in a black robe. She carried herself with noble dignity, her features calm yet smiling.
Beside her sat the emperor, robed in indigo patterned with clouds. His face was dark with fury, so heavy it seemed ink might drip from it.
Xiao Yanfei quietly raised her round fan to shield her face, leaving only a pair of luminous eyes visible. She thought: Is he angry with me? Or about something else?
Hmm… most likely, angry with her.
“That is Her Highness, Princess Chang of Huayang,” Ning Shu whispered in awe, her rosy lips parted.
Her voice was hushed, heard only by Xiao Yanfei and Gu Yue beside her.
Ning Shu’s gaze burned with excitement as she stared at the elder princess. Her eyes sparkled; she clutched one of Xiao Yanfei’s hands and one of Gu Yue’s, shaking them in delight.
Princess Chang…? Xiao Yanfei did a quick calculation of generations in her mind. That would make her the emperor’s aunt.
Still hiding behind her fan, she glanced into the chamber, catching sight of several familiar faces. Then she lowered her lashes demurely and offered Gu Feichi a sweet, obedient smile.
“Girl,” Princess Chang said, her gaze fixed on Xiao Yanfei outside the chamber. Her voice was calm, almost indifferent, betraying no emotion. “Tell me—should there be war?”
The wrinkles that mapped her stately face shifted little; her eyes were steady and fathomless, like a millennia-old well without ripple.
The emperor, sitting at her side, twirled the jade ring on his thumb, his expression unreadable, stormclouds shifting behind his eyes.
He had come to this Four Directions Teahouse for the same reason as Ning Shu and Liu Jia: to watch the famous debates. Coincidentally, Princess Chang had just returned to the capital a few days prior, and the emperor wished to show her the flourishing realm under his rule.
Yet instead, he had been forced to listen to scholars railing against the dangers of powerful in-laws usurping authority—words that stoked his anger. Worse still, Xiao Yanfei and the Liu siblings had exchanged sharp words, each remark cutting at the Liu clan while extolling the Xie family—an indirect slap across the emperor’s own face.
Xiao Yanfei’s comments just now had displeased him even more than the scholars’ reckless talk.
“Uncle!” Liu Chaoyun’s eyes lit up at the sight of the emperor as she straightened proudly and smiled with smug confidence.
Hmph! With the emperor himself backing their family, Xiao Yanfei would no longer dare to speak so boldly.
The air on the second floor grew tense.
Even the main hall below quieted. Scholars whispered to one another, craning their necks toward the second floor, straining to catch every word.
Xiao Yanfei slowly lowered her butterfly-patterned fan. Surrounded by probing, judging, and hostile gazes from within the chamber, she remained calm and unflustered.
What should be said, and what should not, she had already said. Even if she tried to deny it now, no one would believe her.
So be it. The emperor was already angry.
Xiao Yanfei’s voice was steady as she met Princess Chang’s gaze.
“If bandits are not quelled, it is the common people who die.
If the borders are not secured, it is the common people who die.
If pirates are not driven off, it is the common people who die.”
The emperor’s stare bore into her, dark currents surging in his eyes. His head throbbed, his heart twisted with irritation.
She paused, then met the sly, smiling fox-like eyes of Gu Feichi behind his mask. His gaze seemed to say: Speak freely. I’m here. You need not fear.
Her lips curved into a faint smile. Her eyes, bright as black-and-white gems, shimmered with golden light as she declared:
“The Son of Heaven guards the borders. A true sovereign dies for his people.”
Ten simple words, yet they rang with thunderous force, shaking the room.
Everyone inside the chamber froze, startled. None had expected such a young girl to speak with such power, her words so stirring and resounding.
Clap! Clap!
Princess Chang of Huayang applauded once more, this time louder and more heartily. A smile of approval lit her noble face as she said, “A sovereign dies with his state, his ministers with their people, his scholars with their duty.”
She quoted from the Book of Rites: the ruler, his officials, and his scholars all must live and die with their country. The Son of Heaven, seated atop the world, enjoying its greatest wealth and authority, was bound above all to defend its borders, to die if need be for his realm.
If even such a young girl understood the weight of borders and the sanctity of the state, could voice such words—“The Son of Heaven guards the borders, a sovereign dies for his people”—then where did that leave the emperor?
The emperor too was jolted by Xiao Yanfei’s words, but his face grew darker still.
For a fleeting instant, he suspected someone must have coached her to speak thus. Rage roared inside him like a caged beast.
His right hand shot upward, ready to slam the table. But a sidelong glance at Princess Chang made him check himself, slowly lowering his hand again, forced by restraint.
“Father, do not be angry,” Crown Prince Tang Yueze quickly soothed, his tone gentle, trying to ease him. “Second Sister is still young—she speaks without thought.”
As he said this, he looked up and smiled at Xiao Yanfei, signaling reassurance, playing the part of a kind brother-in-law.
The chamber fell silent once more.
The emperor nearly choked on his fury, the salty taste of blood in his mouth. This fool of a son…!
If not for the presence of others, he would have already unleashed a torrent of curses.
Princess Chang’s gaze cut coldly across to the emperor, her words sharp as blades: “Er Lang, even a girl barely past her hairpin ceremony knows this truth. Do you truly not understand—or have you let that Liu woman cloud your mind?”
“…” The emperor clenched his jaw. The cords in his neck bulged with strain, veins standing out in anger.
Since the late emperor’s passing, only Princess Chang dared call him “Er Lang,” only she dared scold him so directly.
And no one else would so openly call the empress “that Liu woman,” with such naked disdain.
Outside, Liu Chaoyun nearly burst with rage. How dare she insult her imperial aunt like this! She stepped forward, ready to retort—only to be stunned when the emperor himself muttered hoarsely, “Aunt speaks true.”
“…” Liu Chaoyun was dumbstruck.
Even the emperor dared not talk back to her—who else would?
Everyone inside the chamber fell silent, feigning deafness. Some lifted cups to their lips, some stared deliberately at the scholars below, others sneaked glances at Duke Cheng’en.
Duke Liu Chuan’s face cycled from green to white to purple. His expression shifted wildly, but he too dared not challenge Princess Chang, only grinding his teeth in silence.
The tension was suffocating.
Princess Changpressed on, proud and unyielding: “The rebellion in Youzhou—if you refuse to act, will you stand by while the people are slaughtered?
Or must the rebels sweep south, unstoppable, until they reach the capital itself, threatening your throne—only then will you fear?”
Each word struck like a slap across the emperor’s face, sharper and harsher, cutting to the bone.
No one else would dare. But Princess Changwould.
The others held their breath, still and silent. The chamber seemed only more hushed, while the hall below grew ever noisier in contrast.
“My aunt exaggerates,” the emperor forced out, voice stiff. “I know what must be done.”
Because he was traveling incognito, he referred to himself humbly as I.
“Know what must be done?” Princess Chang scoffed, her eyes flashing like lightning as she turned on Duke Liu Chuan in the corner. Her gaze struck like thunder making him flinched, lowering his head in panic.
“If this Liu lacks the courage, then let A-Chi go!” she declared, turning toward Gu Feichi, who was calmly lifting a wine cup. “A-Chi…”
Gu Feichi set down his cup and smiled faintly, as if ready to accept.
“Absolutely not!” the emperor barked, his face changing. He cut her off before Gu Feichi could speak.
After the disastrous Battle of Lanshan, Liu Chuan had been much criticized. The emperor now intended to send him to Youzhou both to grant him a chance at redemption and to secure the Xie family’s old troops under his command.
If Gu Feichi were instead dispatched, wouldn’t that place all those troops into the hands of the Duke of Wei’s household? That would be nurturing a tiger—letting the Duke’s power grow unchecked!
No. Absolutely not!
The Emperor’s cold glare bore into Liu Chuan, sharp and forbidding, laced with warning.
“…” Liu Chuan’s round, fleshy face tightened, his only wish at that moment to vanish into thin air.
Beneath the table, his legs shook like chaff in a sieve, while his downcast eyes clouded with gloom.
That stench of blood in Lanshan City last year still lingered in his nostrils, a shadow that refused to disperse. Night after night, it haunted his dreams, waking him in cold terror.
He did not want to go back to the battlefield.
And then there was Xie Wuduan…
The memory of the fallen plaque at the Duke of Cheng’en’s residence struck him like a sudden jolt. Ever since Xie Wuduan was abducted, he had vanished without a trace, unpredictable and elusive. If Liu Chuan were to leave the capital, what if Xie found him?
But then…
His sister’s voice, the Empress’s, echoed in his ears—earnest, persuasive: “Elder brother, trust me. The Youzhou bandits are nothing more than a rabble. This military merit is a gift from His Majesty to our Liu family.”
“The opportunity lies before you. All you need do is stoop and pick it up.”
“Flowers do not bloom forever. You should at least leave some legacy for little Jia.”
Liu Chuan knew all too well of the Emperor’s wariness toward the Duke of Wei’s household. He also knew that if he refused this chance, the Emperor would lose all faith in him—and then…
He hesitated, then bit down hard.
At last, he made his decision.
“Your Majesty,” Liu Chuan declared with solemn conviction, “rest assured, at dawn I will lead my troops to Youzhou to suppress the bandits. I shall wipe them out to the last, and on my victorious return, present their leader’s head as a birthday tribute to Your Majesty.”
He spoke, as always, with perfect flourish, striking the pose of a loyal subject ready to shed his blood for his sovereign.
But the Emperor, still sour from Princess Chang’s earlier reproach, betrayed no reaction. His expression remained flat as he gave a faint nod. “So be it.”
Those words were less approval for Liu Chuan than a signal to Princess Chang—his mind was made up.
The Emperor had meant to say more, but Princess Chang’s disdainful laugh cut him off, forcing him to swallow the rest of his words like blood with broken teeth.
His hand tightened around the wine cup, nearly crushing it, yet he could only endure, repressing his anger.
Princess Chang, on the other hand, lifted her cup with unhurried grace, taking a delicate sip.
She needed no words—simply sitting there in calm poise, she radiated authority, lofty and unshakable, her very presence pressing down on the emperor.
“Rest easy, Your Majesty. I will see this task done well,” Liu Chuan said again, bowing low. With a furtive swipe of his sleeve across his sweat-drenched brow, he dared not so much as glance at Princess Chang. His undergarments were already soaked through.
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