No one left who could go out and speak to them?
Indeed — outside, the entire court of civil and military officials waited, and with Jun Beiyue and Ziqing both missing, and young lord Xiong Xiaobao away as well, the estate was left with nothing but servants, none of whom had any standing to go out and address them.
“What are they here for?” Xiong Xiaobao asked.
“His Highness has been missing for over a month now. According to the eunuchs from the palace, before he vanished, His Highness had met with a number of officials to discuss building a road through the Innocence Ravine. Most of the court officials opposed building the road — and now, for some reason, a conflict has broken out between officials and civilians at the construction site, giving the Xiongnu rebels an opening to exploit. The common people have joined forces with the rebels, and are now fighting against General Baihu and his men!”
Hongyi gave a brief summary of the situation, and the moment she finished, Xiong Xiaobao asked, “Where’s my second imperial uncle?”
Though Xiong Xiaobao had never taken any interest in court affairs, he knew that whenever his father was away from court, most state matters were typically handled on his behalf by his second imperial uncle, Jun Beichen. Though it was only a temporary arrangement, with most memorials still ultimately forwarded to his father, Jun Beichen nonetheless carried real weight and influence at court. So where was he, at a time like this?
“Oh, don’t even mention it — a month ago, the Second Prince left on a trip somewhere! No one can find him anywhere,” Hongyi answered. She’d only learned all of this by asking around within the palace herself!
In truth, there was hardly anyone of consequence left in the palace at all — aside from Jun Beichen, most of the other princes had long since stopped concerning themselves with state affairs. At a time like this, the best they could do was simply not gloat over the misfortune — helping out was hardly something to expect from them.
Even if, deep down, they admired Jun Beiyue, that hardly meant their hearts were entirely on his side! People who cared nothing for state affairs loved nothing more than standing back with folded arms, watching the show unfold.
Hongyi had picked up all of this from the Tenth Prince and an old eunuch in the Imperial Study!
Xiong Xiaobao’s brow furrowed as he listened, and in a fit of anger he moved to shove the door open and storm out — but just then, Guxi stopped him. “Young Master, don’t be rash.”
“I’m not being rash,” Xiong Xiaobao said coldly.
“Then has the Young Master thought through what he intends to do once he’s out there? How exactly does he plan to make the officials willingly withdraw?” Guxi asked.
“I—” Xiong Xiaobao found himself at a loss for words, only now realizing he truly hadn’t thought this through at all.
“Young Master, do you know why His Highness and Her Highness wanted you to ascend the throne?” Guxi asked calmly.
He was more than twice Xiong Xiaobao’s age. If Xiong Xiaobao’s maturity came from spending his days surrounded by adults, absorbing their influence, then Guxi’s maturity had been forged through the bitter hardships of the world itself.
When it came to reading people, Guxi — an orphan by birth — was entirely different from Xiong Xiaobao. Xiong Xiaobao’s ability to read a room came from dealing with people who doted on him, treating it all as little more than a game, while Guxi had faced people who might, at any moment, spit on him, kick him, or even take his life.
In terms of life experience, even after meeting Ziqing, Guxi had still spent time as a servant — the training of a mercenary had shaped him from a boy into a true man, and Shiliang’s betrayal, along with his ordeal on Yao Shun Island, had further forged him from a man into a truly complete one.
Everything had come far too easily for Xiong Xiaobao — even in his hardest moments, he’d always had his parents, always had the poison beasts, by his side.
Xiong Xiaobao had never much liked discussing this particular matter with outsiders, especially not at a moment like this. Guxi’s question struck a nerve, and he flared up without reason. “That’s none of your business!”
At this, Hongyi and Yingzi exchanged glances, anxious but not daring to speak.
Even Her Highness herself would never have spoken to Guxi this way — for the young master to behave like this…
Guxi’s expression remained perfectly calm, giving nothing away as to whether he minded at all, and he simply said flatly, “Young Master, do you know that His Highness, who spent his whole life on the battlefield, who commanded armies and struck fear into all who opposed him, who never once feared anything — why is it that, on this one matter of the throne, he proceeds with such careful caution, insisting that it must be you who ascends?”
A flicker of surprise passed through Xiong Xiaobao’s heart as he looked at Guxi, wanting very much to answer — only to realize he’d never once considered this question, and had no idea how to respond.
“Young Master, the assembled officials have now been kneeling outside for three days and three nights. The Second Prince has eyes and ears everywhere — he must surely know of this. Why, then, has he still not returned?” Guxi asked.
At this, not only Xiong Xiaobao, but even Hongyi and Yingzi were startled — how had none of them thought of this angle before?
And yet, Guxi’s next question left them even more stunned. He said, “Young Master, do you know that the Second Prince’s eldest son, Jun Ge, is eleven years old; that the Third Prince’s eldest son, Jun Chengtian, is thirteen; and that the eldest son of the Sixth Prince, who married earliest of all, is already sixteen?”
Though Guxi said nothing of these imperial grandsons’ abilities, their influence within the capital, or the forces standing behind them, Xiong Xiaobao was no fool — he understood Guxi’s meaning at once!
Though Jun Beichen had submitted himself to his father’s authority, how could the struggle over succession to the throne possibly end with just one generation?
Xiong Xiaobao himself was the youngest of them all, the least experienced in governance. He might be able to overpower others one-on-one, but ruling an entire court, governing an entire nation — that was something he had never once had to deal with!
He couldn’t even properly understand a policy essay, let alone anything more!
“Young Master, Da Zhou’s territory now stretches a thousand li in every direction, and yet its foundations remain unstable. Stabilizing such a vast realm is not something a single generation of rulers can accomplish — never mind stabilizing the nation’s foundations, even securing the realm itself is no easy task.” As he spoke these words, a flicker of genuine seriousness crossed Guxi’s eyes.
Xiong Xiaobao looked up at him, and only then did he begin to truly understand the real meaning behind the saying: conquering a kingdom is easy, securing it is hard, and holding onto it is harder still.
It was at this very moment that Xiong Xiaobao began to see Guxi in an entirely new light.
His mother had asked Guxi to serve as his personal bodyguard — but looking at him now, that position seemed a waste of his talents. This man was no mere fighter.
Xiong Xiaobao calmed himself, and said flatly to Yingzi, “Take me to the zither pavilion first. If they want to kneel, let them keep kneeling!”
With that, he turned and walked away.
When it came to matters of state, to the scheming and maneuvering of court politics and officialdom, he was, in truth, completely ignorant.
But now, he found himself genuinely interested — and there had never been anything he couldn’t master once he set his mind to it, so long as he was truly interested!
The reason the assembled officials were reacting this way was partly because his father truly had been missing without explanation for far too long, and the sudden incident at the Innocence Ravine had come out of nowhere — and partly, no doubt, because someone was deliberately stirring the flames behind the scenes. And looking across the entire court, aside from Jun Beichen, there seemed to be no one else with the ability to pull off something like this.
“Can’t beat my father, so now you want to pit your son against me instead? Heh, just you wait — watch how this young lord plays you all to death!” Xiong Xiaobao muttered as he walked, narrowing his cunning eyes.
This time, he was taking it seriously.
Of course, first he needed to figure out exactly where his parents were, and exactly when they’d be coming back.
Though the closer he got to the zither pavilion, the more uneasy Xiong Xiaobao became, he told himself that no matter how skilled Xuanyuan Lige might have been, surely the enchanting illusion he’d created couldn’t possibly last for months on end — surely in just a few more days, they’d be back.
And yet, when Xiong Xiaobao entered the zither pavilion and saw the room utterly empty, the two zithers lying silently on their stands, and saw Jue Mingzi kneeling off to one side, his gaze hollow, edged with something close to despair, his heart lurched violently, nearly stopping altogether.
“Grandfather, you…”