It must be said that Master Yan taking out twenty taels of silver and announcing a personal sponsorship carried a certain inspired quality to it.
So Li Chi looked at Master Yan and sighed, “Of all the things to learn, why did you have to go and learn from me…”
Master Yan said, “This subject has learned his lesson. Never again. Ten taels of silver — gone, just like that.”
Li Chi said, “Consider those ten taels a personal donation to me from Master Yan.”
Master Yan said, “Your Majesty, has Cao Lie not returned?”
Lu Chonglou had said the very same thing a moment ago.
Li Chi sighed. “Whatever I thought, the Empress has lost all interest in everything else these days — she plays only one game: hunting for my private reserves. And somehow she finds them every single time without fail. The silver Cao Lie brought me — I barely had it a moment before it was gone.”
Lu Chonglou and Master Yan exchanged a glance, then both began to laugh. This was truly a case of heights upon heights — His Majesty seemed lofty enough, but the Empress stood higher still.
Li Chi sat back down and said to Lu Chonglou, “On this trip to the Western Frontier, you will support the Grand General-King in fighting the battle well. By the time you return, matters in the court here should largely have sorted themselves out.”
Lu Chonglou bowed. “Your Majesty may rest easy. Once this subject reaches the Western Frontier, I will do everything in my power to help the Grand General-King thoroughly subdue the Western Regions people.”
Li Chi said, “As I mentioned just now, you may raise any conditions.”
Master Yan said, “No, no — that was *Your Majesty* who said it. Not this subject…”
Master Yan’s reaction was that of someone once burned, forever wary.
Lu Chonglou reached over and collected the remaining ten taels — collected them under Master Yan’s longing, plaintive gaze.
Then he looked at Li Chi and said, “Your Majesty, Master Yan has already personally contributed ten taels to this subject.”
Li Chi said, “Have you considered that while you’re chattering, I might just pocket your ten taels as well?”
Lu Chonglou bowed low. “This subject thanks His Majesty for the magnificent benevolence. This subject will take his leave first.”
Li Chi said, “What kind of people are these — losing all dignity over ten taels of silver.”
Lu Chonglou and Master Yan shared a look, then simultaneously turned to regard Li Chi.
As if *he* would care about something like that. They could all see right through him.
—
Several days later, Lu Chonglou set out in grand formation with grain and supplies coordinated from the Ministry of War and the Ministry of Finance, heading westward toward the frontier.
Li Chi had never been a man who loved war. If Da Ning could grow and prosper without fighting, why would he want to? But what he saw from his vantage was something ordinary people could not see from theirs — and he understood clearly that the Western Regions people had no sincerity whatsoever. Even if they had revised their tribute list, it was without question a ruse to throw him off guard.
With Lu Chonglou gone to the Western Frontier, the weight of court affairs on Li Chi’s shoulders grew heavier still.
Meanwhile, Xu Ji was not far from Chang’an at all — he had been travelling through wind and poor meals to rush back. He had learned long ago of how men like Guan Mo had been dealt with by the Emperor, and it had left him burning with anxiety.
If he delayed his return any longer, he feared the Emperor would use his absence to pluck out his people in court one by one. If those allies were gone, what use was he as Da Ning’s Chancellor? The eyes of every official at court were sharp — and the great clans and powerful interests had eyes sharpest of all. From the way Guan Mo and the others had been dealt with, would they not begin to wonder whether the Emperor had already grown weary of Xu Ji?
Xu Ji’s urgency to return to Chang’an was precisely to reassure those powerful factions behind him. Wanting to be a power-broker was no easy thing — without vast support in wealth, resources, and manpower, it was only a slogan. He had taken enormous amounts of support from these people in every form imaginable.
But if they received nothing in return, why would they continue to back him unreservedly? A man who spent silver to support a prefectural administrator — even just a fourth or fifth-rank official — could still expect certain returns: placing people in the yamen, ensuring commerce flowed smoothly within the jurisdiction. How long could he, a Chancellor who took their silver without delivering results, hope to keep deceiving them?
And so Xu Ji was thinking: now that the Emperor had dealt with Guan Mo and the others, he would arrange a few replacements. This would also serve as a test of the Emperor’s attitude — if the Emperor rejected all of his recommendations, it meant the Emperor’s feelings toward him had changed. If the Emperor approved his nominees, it meant the handling of Guan Mo had no great bearing on their relationship. And as long as his recommended officials were approved, the powerful interests backing Xu Ji would also be able to set their anxious hearts at rest.
A scholar, upon climbing to the summit of a mountain and feeling moved to utter *the heights are too cold to bear*, likely only means he is genuinely cold. But a scholar who, upon reaching the position of Chancellor, utters those very words — that one has truly tasted the chill that lives in the human world.
The coldest place in the world has never been a matter of climate. Even the frozen northern frontier cannot rank against it.
The coldest place in the world and the warmest place in the world have never changed — they have always been the human heart.
About half a month after Lu Chonglou left Chang’an, Xu Ji finally returned.
When he passed through the gates of Chang’an, he could not help drawing a deep breath. He truly adored the air of this city — it carried a different scent from anywhere else. Every breath of it bore the fragrance of power.
The wealthy are called men of fortune. Those with power alone can be called men of distinction. Chang’an had no shortage of either.
Upon arriving, Xu Ji set aside all other concerns and went directly to the gates of the Weiyang Palace to request an audience. First, this was what was expected of him. Second, he was genuinely impatient to gauge the Emperor’s true attitude.
The Eastern Warm Chamber.
Li Chi reached out and helped Xu Ji up from his prostration on the ground, then guided him to one side. “Sit and speak. You’ve been rushing back through wind and poor meals — the journey must have been exhausting.”
Xu Ji replied quickly, “This subject was not truly exhausted outside. In truth, it was rather less taxing than staying in Chang’an.”
Li Chi said, “Now that you’re back, your exhaustion begins. These days while you were gone, I have been truly worn out.” He lifted a hand and gestured to the thick stack of memorials on the table. “Reading and reviewing memorials every single day — I have not had enough time to accompany the Empress and the Imperial Prince, let alone time to practise cultivation. That too has been lost entirely.”
He said with a smile, “I won’t be giving you any days of rest — I’ll give myself a few days off instead. You go home and rest today. Starting tomorrow, come and manage state affairs. I’ll take the Empress and the Imperial Prince to the northern Imperial Garden for a few days. If there is anything of great urgency that you cannot decide yourself, have it sent to the Imperial Garden.”
These words seemed rather unfeeling — Xu Ji had only just returned and had not a moment of rest, yet the Emperor was simply offloading all matters of governance onto him and taking a holiday himself.
But in his heart, Xu Ji bloomed with joy. The Emperor’s attitude told him everything he needed to know — he could truly relax.
Though he had not been in Chang’an, his people had sent him reports at intervals, saying the Emperor had grown irritated by the volume of governmental affairs. Now he could see with his own eyes — it was all true, and the Emperor was genuinely worn down.
Li Chi was not speaking idly either. Early the next morning, he set out with Gao Xining, Li Tuotuo, Xiahou Yuli, and the others, under the escort of the Imperial Guards, and left Chang’an for the Imperial Garden to the north.
The Imperial Garden was vast in scale — when Chang’an had been built, much of the land here had been wasteland. Lady Lian Xi and Lord Lian had made use of the materials left over from the construction of Chang’an to build a garden south of the Wei River. It had now grown into quite a substantial place, with sprawling landscape gardens and no small number of rare birds and fierce beasts brought from various regions.
The Imperial Prince Li Tuotuo was young — just the age to be fascinated by such things. Li Chi had brought him here to broaden his horizons.
The next morning, Xu Ji led the civil and military officials in their capacity as the court’s foremost official to send the Emperor off at the city gate.
Upon returning, Xu Ji took everything in hand — and then discovered that the Emperor had actually left a batch of unprocessed memorials behind. This delighted Xu Ji even further, for it proved the Emperor truly could not do without him. That was no idle phrase.
—
The Imperial Garden.
Li Chi stood watching as Yu Jiuling helped little Tuotuo settle onto the back of the divine eagle, a smile narrowing his eyes to slits.
The divine eagle clearly knew who this tiny person was. If anything, it seemed even more tense than Yu Jiuling. Having lived so long among Li Chi and the others, it was no exaggeration to say it had developed near-human understanding.
The big hound, looking as supremely aloof as ever, circled overhead, calling out now and then — apparently reminding the eagle to be careful, be *more* careful, and that if that little one were to fall, it would answer for it.
Gao Xining and Li Chi were entirely at ease, not a trace of worry that the child might fall. It was Xiahou Yuli who had her heart in her throat, repeatedly scolding Li Chi and Gao Xining for not acting like parents at all.
Just recently little Tuotuo had still been unsteady on his feet — now he was already running with quick little steps. Though even running, his lower body wasn’t stable, and when he picked up speed, he was liable to trip over himself.
This little one had, from such a young age, already revealed a certain stubbornness — a refusal to accept defeat or yield.
When Yu Jiuling lifted him down from the eagle’s back, he immediately toddled off to chase butterflies. Then he looked back and saw the divine eagle with its head lowered, rooting at the ground with its beak. The little thing squatted down, mimicking the eagle’s posture and attempting to root at the ground with his own nose. But at his age, how could he possibly keep his balance? Crouching there and leaning his body forward — he pitched forward and planted his face directly into the ground.
Xiahou Yuli and Yu Jiuling rushed over to help him, but looking at the child’s parents — Li Chi and Gao Xining had both doubled over with laughter.
Gao Xining said, “He’s this silly — he must not take after me. But he was so terribly ugly when he was born and is now so beautiful — he must take after me for that.”
Li Chi said, “I’ll ask Teacher later if I ever rooted in the ground as a child. If I didn’t, I’ll go ask your grandfather whether as a small child you ever ro—”
Gao Xining said, “Don’t you dare!”
Li Chi said, “Hmm?”
Gao Xining’s face flushed. She lowered her voice and said, “Everyone has a foolish childhood… I don’t believe *you* never did anything like rooting at the ground.”
Li Chi said, “It does seem he really does take after you then… Ah, what are we to do?”
Gao Xining said, “What do you mean, what are we to do?”
Li Chi said, “If Tuotuo takes so much after you, what will we do if he grows up idle, neglects being Emperor properly, and decides he’d rather go about playing matchmaker for people?”
Gao Xining: “……”
—
Just then, from not far away, a horse suddenly startled for no apparent reason. With a sharp whinny, it broke free of its reins and charged in the direction of little Tuotuo.
In that instant, Li Chi’s eyes sharpened, and he was already moving.
In the next breath, the divine eagle charged from the side and rammed into the tall horse with full force, sending it tumbling away. In the breath after that, the great hound dropped from the sky, driving both talons hard into the horse’s eyes.
Eagle and hound — together they stopped the frenzied warhorse in an instant.
Amidst the horse’s cry of agony, Li Chi swept Tuotuo into his arms and turned to walk back. He glanced over his shoulder at the horse, and something flickered briefly in his eyes.
By then, Ye Xiaoqian, Commander of the Inner Palace Guards, had already swept toward the place from which the horse had come.
—