“Grandfather my ass!” Helian Zheng, before even seeing who it was, slapped out with his palm. “Your child’s father would be the maternal grandfather!”
After cursing, he felt something was wrong. With a swoosh, he lifted his robe and retreated backward. “What grandfather, what maternal grandfather! Nata, when did I ever sleep with you? Get lost!”
The water-red shadow stood firm, spreading both arms to shield Hongjile, calling shrilly, “Whose it should be is whose it is! It’s yours!”
“Where did we sleep!”
“Ganzhou!”
“…Where in Ganzhou?”
“Wanhua House!”
“…What day?”
“Eight months ago. It was raining that day. You said it was hot and told me to take off my clothes as soon as you entered…”
“…Bullshit… I said that to the singing girl…”
“I was that singing girl! I disguised myself and followed you!”
“…”
Feng Zhiwei looked at Helian Zheng sidelong—from that statement about Ganzhou, the Great King’s questions became increasingly guilty, his voice getting lower and lower…
Looking at that Nata again—not bad looking, just too many freckles on her nose. Quite perky.
“Zha Yinlan, my mother is a Han woman, your mother is also a Han woman,” Nata, having silenced Helian Zheng with her questions, immediately changed from her previous aggressive manner, tenderly stroking her enormous belly, saying affectionately, “We’re truly a match made in heaven.”
“Like hell we’re a match made in heaven.” Faced with a woman, Helian Zheng lost all his dominance and cunning, cursing loudly. “This old man marrying a Han woman is called a match made in heaven! Who knows where you got pregnant and are pinning it on me!”
“You can kill me, you can abandon me and the child, but you cannot insult me!” Nata’s expression changed abruptly, all affection vanishing from her face. “The interior people have a saying—a scholar can be killed but not humiliated. All you uncles have witnessed—it’s Zha Yinlan forcing me!”
With a “heiya” she leaped up, ramming her head toward a table. The force was so great she left absolutely no room for retreat. Behind her, Hongjile cried out “My daughter!” and reached to pull her, but suddenly stepped on a piece of meat on the ground and fell awkwardly. Nata thundered toward the table corner with crushing momentum.
“Crash.”
The table suddenly retreated several feet backward. Nata’s suicide target vanished. Unable to check her momentum, she crashed into someone’s embrace.
That person extended a hand to catch her, smiling gently. “Don’t get agitated. Be careful of disturbing the fetal energy.”
Nata raised her head and saw Feng Zhiwei’s hazy yet profound unique eyes. For an instant she felt uncomfortable, then the corner of her mouth curved down. She struggled free from Feng Zhiwei’s support, not thanking her for saving her life, saying coldly, “Stay away from me! My mother said interior women are best at competing for favor, causing harm, and harming others!”
“She doesn’t need to compete with you for favor!” Helian Zheng spat. “You’re not qualified to compete for favor in my royal court!”
“Zha Yinlan, I made my will clear through death and you still won’t have me?” Nata shrieked, turning toward everyone in the tent. “Uncles, we grassland women don’t count for much, but children are bone, are blood, are treasure. No one can trample on them. If Zha Yinlan becomes king, will he break our grassland rules?”
Everyone’s faces showed approving expressions. For the grassland tribes whose population had never been prosperous, children were indeed extremely important. Abandoning wives was acceptable, but forsaking children was impossible.
“King.” Hutejia frowned. “Since Nata is carrying your child, for the sake of her continuing the Yin’erji bloodline, show Hongjile mercy. Back then your father-king killed Hongjile’s relatives—he’s just taking revenge. We grassland men compete with each other every year. Either we hack others to death or get hacked to death ourselves. There aren’t so many calculations. If we really kept seeking revenge, we’d all be dead long ago.”
“That’s right.” Yeye also said. “King, speaking as your older brother, I’m being presumptuous to advise you—since Nata is carrying your child, you wouldn’t want your son to avenge his maternal grandfather in the future, would you? Rest assured, today’s decision is our collective will. If Hongjile dares disobey, you don’t need to act—we’ll act for you!”
“I think it’s best this way—let Hongjile atone for his crimes with his territory and wealth.” Hu’en said. “Every year tribute to the royal court ten thousand sheep, considerable gold, and withdraw from pastures east of Qingzhuo Mountains, relocating to… north of Chang River.”
North of Chang River was precisely the original territory of the already-exterminated Pixiu Tribe—the most barren land.
The chieftains nodded one after another, all feeling this idea was best. Preserving strength while gaining benefits—why must they fight Jinpeng Tribe to mutual destruction? They all chattered away advising Helian Zheng.
Helian Zheng stood in place, hands clasped behind his back in silent contemplation, his expression cold and severe. For an instant, kingly majesty came naturally, causing the clamoring chieftains to unconsciously quiet down gradually. They looked at each other somewhat embarrassed. Several major chieftains who’d spoken earlier all looked rather displeased.
Feng Zhiwei watched, sighing in her heart. In the current situation, wanting to kill Hongjile was already impossible. Though Helian Zheng had turned defeat to victory at the Golden Alliance meeting, the situation at the royal court wasn’t yet stable. He’d just gained the chieftains’ support. If at this moment he firmly refused to adopt the chieftains’ opinions and insisted on killing Hongjile in their presence despite their opposition, things would inevitably change again.
Helian Zheng was definitely not suited to facing off against Jinpeng Tribe in a fight to the death at this moment.
It’s just that he’d been so impassioned before the royal army, vowing revenge. Now not killing Hongjile and even taking Hongjile’s daughter—this was really hard to explain.
It looked like… this old lady would have to step forward and take responsibility again.
Her gaze swept over. Helian Zheng was quietly looking this way, his eyes furtive and sneaky.
Sighing again, Feng Zhiwei thought being this Grand Consort really wasn’t easy…
However, she still had some doubts in her heart. Sparing Hongjile father and daughter’s lives for now didn’t matter.
“What the lords say is correct.” She smiled as she spoke. “Rest assured, the king is only concerned about respecting me. How Jinpeng Tribe compensates, I can’t control. But Miss Nata’s destination, I can decide.”
The chieftains’ eyes lit up, feeling this woman, though a bit ugly, had courage and knowledge. She understood propriety and knew what was proper. Indeed, whom to accept or not accept—the Grand Consort could decide.
“Zhiwei.” Helian Zheng “anxiously and indignantly” interjected. “How can I let you suffer this grievance!”
Pretend, keep pretending! Feng Zhiwei wanted desperately to glare at him, but could only continue smiling kindly. “Marrying into the grasslands means following grassland rules. No grievance, no grievance at all.”
“Exactly, what grievance is there?” Someone immediately dismissed it. “Which household tent doesn’t have three wives and four concubines? King, did you really think you’d only have the Grand Consort alone? Can she handle you wanting her every day?”
“How can this king accept the daughter of his father’s murderer!” Helian Zheng’s anger rang clear, glaring fiercely.
“The father has sinned, but it’s unrelated to children, even more unrelated to the royal heir.” Feng Zhiwei diligently played her role as “reasonable, understanding, magnanimous Grand Consort from the interior.” “King, you’ve been wronged.”
“This king vowed to the royal army to take the enemy’s head!” Prince Helian “refused to yield an inch,” striking his sword to make it ring.
“The king can use Jinpeng Tribe’s compensation to provide relief to the soldiers.” Grand Consort Feng “gently persuaded.” “Concerning the royal heir, the Yin’erji warriors will understand.”
“Yes, yes, the Grand Consort is deeply understanding and magnanimous. The king should take a step back. After all, the people’s stability is the path to grassland prosperity…” The chieftains, full of praise for the Grand Consort, nodded repeatedly.
“King.” Feng Zhiwei affectionately grasped Helian Zheng’s hand. “Jinpeng’s crimes can be discussed later. Concerning your descendants, please allow this concubine to presume to make this decision.”
Helian Zheng lowered his eyes, gazing at those snow-white, tender hands. This was the first time Feng Zhiwei had actively held his hand, and it was because they had to act in this public setting under everyone’s gaze. Though he knew it was acting, for an instant warmth surged in his heart. He nearly grasped her hand in return, seizing this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity at this closest distance to her heart to tell her all the words pressed deep in his heart.
His hand tightened. Feng Zhiwei immediately noticed, smiled faintly, and calmly withdrew her hand without revealing anything. Helian Zheng watched those hands that touched and left, vaguely making a gesture to retain them, then reluctantly let go. He rubbed his palm with his fingers, his expression momentarily distant and dazed, as if still slowly savoring that instant’s delicate, tender touch, savoring the rare active approach from Feng Zhiwei, who seemed gentle but was actually cold.
But Feng Zhiwei had already walked away, supporting Nata, smiling. “Welcome to the royal court.”
Nata looked at her, her eyes containing no joy but rather a strange meaning. Hongjile stood to the side with a cold expression, his gaze flickering.
Helian Zheng didn’t see the father and daughter’s expressions. He rubbed his hands awkwardly, giving Feng Zhiwei meaningful looks conveying “Dear aunt, thank you, you’ve been wronged, you’ve helped me save face—whatever you want in the future, I’ll crawl to deliver it to you.”
Feng Zhiwei glanced at him, revealing an expression of “Dear nephew, it’s actually not that big a deal—this isn’t the first time I’ve been a convenient mother.”
The chieftains, unaware of these two’s eye signals and verbal sparring, all breathed sighs of relief, happy all around. Jinpeng had substantial wealth. This withdrawal from pastures and delivery of compensation meant all the tribes present today would get some benefits—far more advantageous than killing Hongjile and triggering grassland warfare.
The king was willing to step back, all thanks to the Grand Consort’s decision. Hutejia was first to smile. “Congratulations, King! The Grand Consort is truly wise and intelligent. The grasslands are blessed!”
“Indeed,” Helian Zheng immediately echoed with great feeling. “But I hope this blessing lasts eternally!”
Feng Zhiwei smiled and changed the subject. “King, the Golden Alliance matter is concluded. Let’s discuss next steps.”
“In that case,” Helian Zheng smiled, “Lords Hongjile and Luzan, please remain at Binggu to arrange your tribe’s relocation affairs. All the other lords should travel with me to the royal court. You can attend my enthronement ceremony and discuss the distribution of compensation for pastures after Jinpeng Tribe relocates.”
The chieftains showed pleased expressions. Helian Zheng’s words made clear they’d get a share of what Jinpeng Tribe surrendered. Hongjile and Luzan’s faces turned ashen. Silent, they knew two fists couldn’t defeat four hands. Today they’d suffered complete defeat at Zhadalanyin’s hands. With the chieftains defecting for profit, struggling wasn’t timely.
The two exchanged glances, their eyes sinister.
“How do we leave?” Luzan suddenly sneered coldly. “Didn’t you blast the mountain path, trapping us all in the valley?”
Everyone froze, only now remembering Helian Zheng’s preemptive mountain-blasting entrance. Their expressions all changed.
“Cackle cackle cackle,” top supporting actress Grand Empress Dowager Liu Mudan appeared punctually again, gesturing with her hand while laughing. “Canglang is such a fool. You have eyes but don’t know how to look properly. Blast blast blast—what blasting?”
Everyone had been too tense in confrontation to notice the mountain pass. Now at her gesture, they looked over and were all stunned.
That narrow exit indeed had quite high piled rocks, but not as deadly blocked as imagined. It could completely be climbed over. Moreover, the mountain ridge they’d thought would surely be destroyed didn’t seem as devastatingly blasted as imagined.
“Blast what, cackle.” Liu Mudan laughed until the powder on her face fell off in cascades. “Fooled you.”
That earlier earth-shattering explosion had actually just been empty cannons placed at the cliff edge, only blasting down some mountain rocks but deliberately creating huge noise and commotion. Helian Zheng’s guards and Chunyu Meng’s subordinates had moved stone blocks to throw down amidst the thick smoke. When Liu Mudan lifted the tent curtain, it was precisely the most intense throwing moment. It looked frightening but was actually deception.
The chieftains didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, yet also breathed sighs of relief. A faint smile appeared on Hu’en’s face. “The king has both courage and strategy. Hu’en admires this!”
This was his first time speaking the word “king.” The unruly Iron Leopard Tribe finally formally declared their position. Helian Zheng glanced at him, nodding with a smile.
The nine chieftains left their own guards to watch Hongjile and Luzan, following Helian Zheng out of the tent. Helian Zheng’s gaze turned, looking for Klie. Peony Flower leaned over quietly. “Don’t look—he ran away.”
Helian Zheng’s brows furrowed. Peony Flower squeezed his hand. “Don’t make a scene here. Klie’s good at surface work—the chieftains all like him. That he’s a spy is just my suspicion. That night at Chang River’s banks, I feared I wouldn’t survive, so I notified you that way. Now isn’t the time to discuss this. After returning to the royal court, we’ll finish him off!”
Feng Zhiwei heard this from the side and finally understood why Peony Flower had lured Klie out from the start—she didn’t want Helian Zheng to alert the enemy.
“Father…” Nata, with her large belly, bid farewell to Hongjile. She didn’t shed tears, only gripped her father’s hand, then resolutely turned away. Feng Zhiwei stood to the side with hands clasped behind her back watching these two, a faint smile at the corner of her lips.
Everyone exited the tent and reached the mountain pass. Looking at the dangerously piled rocks with some frowning, Young Master Gu had already floated up holding the child. Whenever someone approached, he lightly and skillfully lifted them across. The chieftains only felt wind sound and their vision blur—they’d already crossed the high mountain pass.
“This brother has excellent skills!” Earth Badger Tribe chieftain Yeye couldn’t help praising. “Would you have time to come teach our young men?”
Everyone turned their burning gazes over. Grassland men loved martial arts—seeing an expert, each heart stirred.
Feng Zhiwei originally thought Young Master Gu would definitely ignore them. Her diplomatic words were already prepared. Who knew Young Master Gu lowered his head to look at Gu Zhixiao in his arms, thought very seriously, and asked, “Do you have milk?”
“…”
Yeye stumbled, nearly toppling onto the rock pile.
Feng Zhiwei also nearly collapsed. However, she could hear the seriousness in Young Master Gu’s tone. He wasn’t joking—he couldn’t joke. Very clearly, he’d been terrorized by Peony Flower recently. Now only Peony Flower had milk. Unfortunately, Flower had extremely strong curiosity and tremendous interest in Young Master Gu. She spent all day thinking how to toy with the young master and lift his veil, constantly threatening with milk. The young master was annoyed beyond endurance. For the first time in his life feeling fear toward a person, he wanted to find another wet nurse to escape Peony Flower’s clutches.
As long as he could escape Peony Flower’s torment, teaching martial arts was acceptable.
“He’s saying he needs a wet nurse.” Feng Zhiwei quickly explained to the chieftains, pointing at Gu Zhixiao in Young Master Gu’s arms.
The chieftains went “Oh—” in comprehension. They really couldn’t adapt to Young Master Gu’s wet-father styling. No one else dared show interest in him. They all rushed down like wolves.
Outside the valley, thirty thousand chieftain guards were confronting ten thousand royal troops. The mountain pass collapse had long alarmed everyone, but the Golden Alliance was sacred. Without the lords’ orders, no family dared enter. Now seeing the chieftains emerge, all breathed sighs of relief.
The royal army saw Helian Zheng emerge safe and sound, even arm-in-arm with Blue Bear and Iron Leopard chieftains. They immediately understood the Golden Alliance danger had passed. With a thunderous sound they all drew blades and dismounted. With a clashing sound, blade light splashed out like sunlight. They all called in unison, “King!”
The sound shook the stone mountains until pebbles fell. The chieftains looked at each other in dismay—none expected the young king had already subdued the unruly royal army.
“My warriors!” Helian Zheng climbed onto the rocks, raising his arms and calling loudly. “Violent storms cannot stop high-flying eagles! Hongjile’s conspiracy is destined to vanish into ashes! Your king is still your king! Starting today, Jinpeng retracts its claws, withdrawing from fertile pastures east of Qingzhuo Mountains! Golden Lion glory lasts forever!”
“Golden Lion glory lasts forever!” Hearing that phrase “withdraw from pastures,” the royal army’s eyes immediately brightened with boiling blood. They struck the ground fiercely with iron blades until the earth shook.
“Jinpeng Tribe’s lands, those cattle and sheep, that silver earned from border trade!” Helian Zheng’s arm forcefully grasped and scattered in midair—a fierce, inciting gesture. “Everyone shares!”
The cheering grew louder, shaking Feng Zhiwei’s eardrums painfully.
“Let Hongjile live a few more days to properly handle relocation and compensation affairs,” Helian Zheng said viciously. “Fallen soldiers, widowed wives—take an extra share!”
“Long live our king!”
“This old man said he’d fuck Hongjile’s mother!” Helian Zheng raised his head, his handsomely lined jaw brilliant with flowing gold in the daylight. His figure tall and robust plated in sunlight—like a god with heroic, dazzling bearing. “His mother’s too old. This old man has decided—fuck his daughter!”
“Fuck his daughter!” The cheering toppled the towering stone mountains. Amidst the cheering, the chieftains exchanged glances, laughing yet admiring. Amidst the cheering, Nata’s face turned deathly pale.
Amidst the cheering, Feng Zhiwei stumbled, supporting herself on Young Master Gu… What kind of talk was this…
However, she had to admit—Helian Zheng was truly formidable. First throwing out tangible benefits to attract the royal army, then lightly glossing over the reason for not killing Hongjile with one sentence, explaining it as needing to handle compensation, soothing the royal army from the most acceptable angle. Finally echoing that statement about fucking his mother, the transition beautiful and clean. From start to finish, prestige never flagged, fervor never cooled. Clearly he’d violated his vow, been forced not to kill his father-in-law, and even married a package deal—yet in the end it transformed into him subduing Jinpeng Tribe, obtaining compensation, and sleeping with their girl.
Just as she was examining Helian Zheng with appreciative eyes, that fellow jumped down from the rocks, striding to her side, quietly laughing in her ear, “Actually I absolutely won’t really fuck…”
Feng Zhiwei swooshed around and walked away, leaving the new grassland king with his confession stuck in his belly…
Over there came Grand Empress Dowager Peony’s excited cackling laugh. “Yeye! Come let Mama feel you—see if your Jiangsu garlic sprout has grown into a Shandong scallion!”
Fast horses galloped for three days until they neared the royal court.
This time Helian Zheng’s return to the royal court was no longer the original scale of returning from the Imperial Capital with three hundred guards. Ten thousand royal troops led the way, eight major chieftains clustered around—at least on the surface it appeared so.
Helian Zheng’s proposal to invite the chieftains to the royal court in the name of dividing spoils of war now showed its effect. After the royal army sent advance guards back to notify the royal court, Blue Bird, White Deer, and Fire Fox three tribe chieftains immediately led three thousand guards out ten miles to meet them. All along the way, banners waved and iron cavalry flowed like streams. The assembled tens of thousands of troops suppressed some people’s restless thoughts, not daring to act.
On the sixteenth day of the second month of Changxi’s sixteenth year, the Prince of Shunyi and the Grand Consort arrived at the royal court. The Yin’erji tribe, whose hearts had been in turmoil due to the old king’s violent death, not only welcomed their new king but also news that Jinpeng Tribe had been subdued and would soon relocate. The grasslands all along celebrated with song, dance, and laughter.
Feng Zhiwei rode beside Helian Zheng, watching the colorfully skirted women dancing by the roadside. People constantly broke through the guards’ blockade to throw their pouches and waist sashes into Helian Zheng’s arms. She smiled. “Our prince is truly popular.”
“I’m also popular.” Peony Flower immediately refused to be outdone, waving at the crowd and calling loudly, “Yin’erji tribe’s handsome men, your Grand Consort—is—finally—free—come chase me—”
With a whoosh, a pile of stinky boots and rotten socks rained down from all directions. Some were thrown by the handsome men themselves, some by the handsome men’s wives.
Feng Zhiwei looked sympathetically at Grand Empress Dowager Peony. That expression said everything without words, perfectly capturing the mood. Grand Empress Dowager Peony showed not the slightest embarrassment, stating, “Men have thin skin, but in their hearts they still want it. I understand.”
Yes, compared to you, everyone in the world has thin skin.
The wet-father-styled Young Master Gu actually also received quite a few pouches and waist sashes. This was because the flowing-robed, white-veiled Han man possessed a refined, elegant beauty different from the rough grassland men—that jade-carving-like lustrous quality was very attractive.
Young Master Gu stared at that pile of fragrant objects for a long while, understanding them as gifts for his Gu Zhixiao. He hung them all on Gu Zhixiao’s little blanket, fumigating the baby until she sneezed continuously. Finally Hua Qiong caught up and quickly removed them all, only to be glared at angrily by the grassland beauties.
Helian Zheng was in an excellent mood, just about to lean down and say something to Feng Zhiwei, when suddenly came a melodious, laughing voice.
“Azha!”
A purple-gold whirlwind rose from level ground, spinning and rushing near. That purple-gold figure was light as a lark, nimble as a deer. In midair with a swoosh she flipped backward, somersaulting onto Helian Zheng’s horse. Her skirts spread like a gorgeous large flower. In the blink of an eye, she’d settled lightly and skillfully onto Helian Zheng’s back, naturally raising her arms to embrace his waist.
Her cheek pressed against Helian Zheng’s back as she laughed delicately. “You’ve finally come back!”
The surrounding guards showed no hostility toward this woman who suddenly broke in and somersaulted onto the king’s mount—all smiled watching her. People on all sides roared approval at her exquisite body skills. Even women’s gazes held no jealousy, only full admiration.
Helian Zheng turned on horseback in pleased surprise. “Aunt Meiduo, you’re at the royal court!”
“What aunt not aunt—that sounds terrible!” Meiduo smiled, cupping Helian Zheng’s face to examine him carefully. “Let me see my Azha—you’ve lost weight!”
“What Azha not Azha—that sounds terrible!” Helian Zheng laughed heartily. “I haven’t lost weight—I’m in good spirits.”
“You’re my Azha, mine.” Meiduo raised her eyebrows, heroic spirit overflowing. “Since you were three years old I’ve been calling you this. Today you want me to change?”
“Fine, fine, as you wish.” Helian Zheng seemed very happy seeing this woman, spirits soaring, his expression indulgent.
The two chatted happily, clearly extremely familiar and comfortable. Feng Zhiwei was left aside. She didn’t particularly mind, watching these two with interest while vaguely feeling this woman Helian Zheng called aunt seemed to have some hidden rejection toward her. This was evident from how she stared only at Helian Zheng talking from the moment she appeared, not even glancing at Feng Zhiwei once.
But Helian Zheng wouldn’t forget her. He suddenly pulled Meiduo’s sleeve, saying proudly while turning toward Feng Zhiwei, “Meiduo, this is my Grand Consort, the interior’s Princess Shengying. Meet her.”
Meiduo turned her face over.
She had a beautiful yet heroic face. The expression between her brows at first glance somewhat resembled Hua Qiong. Looking carefully, the difference was vast. Hua Qiong’s innate broad magnanimity was like the ocean’s hidden depths. She possessed a kind of sharp, pressing, jagged fierceness—a single meeting attempting to intimidate with her gaze.
She stared intensely at Feng Zhiwei’s face, not concealing the hostility and scrutiny in her eyes at all. She stared silently for too long, causing even Helian Zheng to notice. His expression darkened, about to speak, when Meiduo had already turned away. Sitting behind Helian Zheng, with a somewhat proud smile, she said indifferently, “Is this the Grand Consort? How rude of me.”
Whether she meant herself being rude or Feng Zhiwei being rude was unclear.
“Mm.” Feng Zhiwei nodded slightly with a smile. “You are a bit rude. You should have dismounted to meet me. But considering you’re Helian Zheng’s aunt, this Grand Consort respects elders and will let it pass.”
“You…” Meiduo’s pretty face turned deathly pale with anger. Helian Zheng saw the wind turning wrong. Smiling, he embraced her waist and, regardless of everything, set her on the ground. Calling loudly, “Aunt Meiduo, we’ll talk properly another day. We’re going ahead now.”
Without another word, he slapped his horse and ran. Feng Zhiwei looked at Meiduo standing in place eating horse dust resentfully, her smile ambiguous. “You’re truly not tender toward beauties.”
“Wrong—that’s me saving her life.” Helian Zheng scoffed. “Fighting with you is suicide.”
“Your aunt…” Feng Zhiwei said casually. “Not a blood aunt, right?”
“Of course not.” Helian Zheng smiled. “When I was two, Great Yue invaded. My father-king led troops to battle. Peony Flower was in confinement then. Meiduo was her maidservant. My uncle-in-law colluded with people to infiltrate the grasslands wanting to abduct me to sell in the interior. Meiduo accidentally discovered this and desperately chased after to rescue me. She hid me in a haystack and jumped into the winter ice lake herself. My uncle-in-law thought we’d both died and had to give up. That ice lake was very cold—Meiduo developed chronic illness. To thank her, Peony Flower recognized her as a younger sister and has always treated her well.”
Very well indeed—a maidservant has been indulged into an empress dowager.
“Peony Flower.” Feng Zhiwei fell back one horse length, asking her mother-in-law. “You’ve offended someone—do you know?”
“You’re the one who offended someone.” Liu Mudan was right beside them so naturally saw clearly. She rolled her eyes.
Feng Zhiwei smiled without speaking. After a long while, Peony Flower sighed resentfully and whispered in Feng Zhiwei’s ear. “You slick child… Yes, I deliberately recognized her as a younger sister. I know what she wants isn’t this, but it can’t be… Meiduo developed illness in the lake—she can never have children again!”
Feng Zhiwei fell silent, thinking of that woman’s proud fierceness just now. Vague unease stirred in her heart. After a while she asked, “How old is she?”
“Six years older than Jigou’er.”
“In the interior, some wealthy households with grown children who need to remarry.” Feng Zhiwei played with the reins, saying leisurely. “Peony Flower, you might consider it.”
“I also know keeping a woman around creates resentment. Over these years I’ve found her countless households,” Peony Flower frowned. “But as you’ve discovered, Meiduo is proud and haughty. After all these years with the royal court treating her like a princess, how could she accept that kind of household?”
“What princess?” Feng Zhiwei said indifferently. “At this age staying here, what she’s waiting for—presumably you know. If you can’t deliver, don’t give any hope. Otherwise in the future, the harm will run deep. A woman’s youth cannot afford to be wasted.”
Peony Flower bit her teeth, staring speechlessly. After a long while, she slapped her hand decisively. “Fine! Marry!”
“Marry what?” Helian Zheng ahead didn’t hear clearly and turned to ask.
Grand Empress Dowager Peony whipped his horse’s rear, sending him far away. “Giddyup!”
When she distantly glimpsed the Huozhuo royal court, Feng Zhiwei was rather stunned. She’d originally thought the grassland royal court would just be an especially gorgeous, enormous tent cluster. But ahead on the horizon stood an enormous white building.
Atop blue-green slopes, a square, broad white stone palace towered majestically, stretching for miles. The tower deep within the palace pierced the exceptionally high blue sky like a pure white jade sword.
“What magnificent architecture…” Peony Flower rarely waxed poetic with scholarly feeling. “Combining all the architectural advantages of the Forbidden City, White House, Buckingham Palace, Louvre, and Potala Palace—exquisite, grand, magnificent, displaying ten thousand forms, demonstrating humanity’s high wisdom crystallized from ancient to modern, domestic to foreign…”
“It’s quite nice. Does it have a name?” Feng Zhiwei carefully pondered that pile of palace names, thinking how she’d never seen any of them. Were they overseas?
“Potala Second Palace.” Peony Flower said solemnly.
What strange name was this?
For an instant, Feng Zhiwei heard the abnormality in Liu Mudan’s tone. Turning her head, she saw that woman gazing up at the distant palace complex, light flickering in her eyes, flowing with a strange emotion.
Reminiscence, wistfulness, nostalgia, sorrow, loneliness, satisfaction… complex beyond full description.
“Before, we lived in tents.” Peony Flower said leisurely. “Later I told Kuku my homeland resembled this place—also with sky-vast grasslands and cloud-white sheep flocks, and the Potala Palace sacred in all tribespeople’s hearts. Kuku asked if I’d been there. I said I’d never have the chance again. Kuku said he’d build one here for me. Where I lived would henceforth be the Huozhuo tribe’s Potala sacred ground for generations. I said we couldn’t desecrate the sacred ground—better call it Potala Second Palace…”
As she spoke, she gradually grew shy. A blush penetrated the thick powder like a charming evening glow. Her eyes bright, her smile in the sunlight like a young girl’s, lushly blooming.
Feng Zhiwei’s heart stirred, thinking what an unusual yet enduringly long love Old King Kuku and Peony Flower shared.
He and she met on the battlefield. He and she pledged themselves on the grasslands. He and she walked together through thirty years of storms. He might never have spoken the word “love,” yet he built her heart’s sacred ground the second. She might curse him “damn” every day, but when he truly died by the blade, she shed no tears—yet boldly shouldered an entire tribe’s future.
One kind of love needs no speaking. Sun and moon witness. Grasslands witness. Potala the Second witnesses.
And at this moment, before his and her palace, human tides like steel dragons wound endlessly across the boundless grasslands. Daylight reflected the cold light of steel blades, revealing an ocean-like heavy dark gold color.
Highland spring colors, emerald as if washed. In the hunting frontier wind, the new generation grassland king and his mother and wife bathed in radiating golden light, using ten thousand zhang rosy clouds as cloaks, using brilliant blazing sun as crowns, galloping across, reining horses atop high hills. Ten thousand people held their breath, raising their heads in a daze watching their vigorous king.
In complete silence, Helian Zheng looked down at the crowd below, his long brows flying, his purple-glowing amber eyes rich as frontier fine wine.
He suddenly laughed heartily.
“Zhiwei! Zhiwei! Having you by my side at this moment—I’m so happy!”
He reached out, sweeping Feng Zhiwei into his embrace!
Before Feng Zhiwei could cry out in surprise, she’d already fallen into Helian Zheng’s arms. In her haste, she only managed to press her hand against his chest while feigning “shyness,” docilely lowering her face.
Helian Zheng was already laughing heartily, holding her as he galloped down.
One rider soaring like clouds, flying horses descending like a black divine sword slashing brilliantly through long grass, charging straight toward his people. His silver great cloak and her black fox fur struck each other violently, flying wildly. In the dazzling sunlight they carved a flowing, beautiful arc.
Tens of thousands thunderously knelt, their cries gathering into a strong, powerful hurricane shaking heaven and earth.
“King!”
In that passionate, vast cheering, Feng Zhiwei clearly heard Helian Zheng’s heartbeat thundering passionately. She heard the grassland wind boundlessly transmitting across mountains and seas. She heard Peony Flower following behind, raising her face toward heaven, smiling as she called.
“Kuku!”
The grassland’s spirited new king carried his Grand Consort, sharing the glory at ten thousand people’s center. The dignified, magnificent Prince of Chu’s manor in the Imperial Capital was instead sunk in solemn, deadly atmosphere.
Servants in the manor came and went hurriedly, yet no one dared make any sound, much less disturb the tightly closed study—His Highness, after court each day, would shut himself in the study. Inside those two tightly shut black doors was complete silence, often making people feel no one was inside.
Though nothing had happened, everyone felt the atmosphere oppressive, yet also didn’t understand where that oppression came from. Since His Highness’s great southern campaign victory, the Chang family’s power in southern Min had been basically uprooted. Riding the southern campaign’s great victory, Prince of Chu’s manor, which had always struggled to insert itself into military circles, had just seized this opportunity to plant quite a few trusted people. Including those second-generation privileged students from Qingming Academy who’d originally trained with Prince of Chu and Wei Zhi, they’d successively been arranged in positions across various departments. After His Majesty expressed some sighs and regrets about Wei Zhi’s disappearance, he’d also lavished praise on His Highness. Recently, his memorials—every one submitted was approved. Throughout court, above and below, voices of praise filled the air. Anyone could see that currently His Highness was His Majesty’s number one person.
After suffering through so many years, finally step by step enduring to this day, His Highness showed no joy whatsoever. What was going on?
In the study hung thick navy-blue gold-threaded curtains, nearly blocking all outside daylight. Since Ning Yi returned from southern Min, his eyes seemed somewhat poor, fearing light and wind. The originally light green curtains had now all been changed to dark tones.
In the study came faint sounds of pages turning. Pale smoke carried the scent of precious dragon ambergris incense.
“That Deputy Minister Wu of the Ministry of Works was the former Crown Prince’s milk brother,” Ning Yi silently flipped through a thick case file, his tone indifferent and crisp. “Replace him.”
“Yes.” Below sat Xin Ziyan, eyes observing nose, nose observing heart, without joking manner. “Where to start?”
“Doesn’t he love collecting jades and out-of-print ancient books?” Ning Yi said indifferently. “You’re in charge of compiling the ‘Tiansheng Records.’ Wanting to pin a crime on him—isn’t that easy?”
Xin Ziyan’s eyebrows twitched, hearing faint sarcasm in that tone.
“Your Highness.” He raised his head to look directly at Ning Yi. “About that matter, I—”
“I’m tired.” Ning Yi raised his head—still those elegantly peerless features, though his expression held some exhaustion. He lightly closed his eyes, gently rubbing his brow, not giving Xin Ziyan a chance to finish speaking. “Let’s leave it at that.”
Then he closed his eyes, leaning back, assuming a posture of complete refusal to converse.
But Xin Ziyan didn’t plan to accept his refusal. From returning to the Imperial Capital until now, he’d been tormented enough by this hot-and-cold Ning Yi. This person seemed somewhat abnormal, working frantically day and night, exhausting all schemes to secretly manipulate court dynamics, giving himself almost no chance to rest. He constantly rested in the study, completely refusing to communicate with them about anything beyond court affairs. This conversational opening today was already the tenth time he’d been interrupted.
He remembered when Ning Yi first returned to the Imperial Capital, in the Golden Hall, when His Majesty mentioned it was a pity he and the Prince of Shunyi’s group had missed each other—otherwise they could have seen each other off for a stretch. When His Majesty made clear who the Prince of Shunyi and Grand Consort were, Ning Yi had swayed, his face turning deathly pale for an instant.
He remembered after court, Ning Yi randomly grabbed a horse outside Taihe Gate and galloped madly away, only to rein his horse in darkness at the city gate, standing for a long time before finally turning back silently.
After that, he showed no further abnormalities. Only their few close ministers knew—no abnormality was the greatest abnormality.
Xin Ziyan’s expression was complex, thinking that after returning to southern Min, both Ning Yi and Ning Cheng had avoided him regarding a certain matter. When Ning Yi returned, he immediately took back the Golden Feather Guard he’d been managing—needless to say, it was for the Feng family. But no matter what, he hadn’t done wrong. When His Majesty entrusted the Golden Feather Guard to Ning Yi, the sole task was finding the Great Cheng’s orphaned heir. This inherently carried several measures of testing. Having already found clear clues yet still hesitating and delaying in this matter—the consequences would be unthinkable.
Only no one had expected the orphaned heir actually wasn’t Feng Zhiwei? Was this good or bad? Xin Ziyan closed his eyes, sighing darkly: Mistaken circumstances, mistaken circumstances indeed…
Watching Ning Yi’s weary expression across from him, Xin Ziyan’s heart fire couldn’t help rising blazingly.
“You’re tired—you can listen with your eyes closed!” He suddenly surged forward, bracing both hands on Ning Yi’s desk, his gaze burning as he stared at him. “You must hear me out today!”
“No need to listen.” Ning Yi still didn’t open his eyes to look at him. “You’re Tiansheng’s foremost talent. You’re His Majesty’s most beloved able minister. Years ago, you chose me among all the princes to assist. From then on, wholeheartedly devoted, pouring out your heart’s blood. What you’ve done, what you want to do—never wrong. You have nothing you must explain to me. I have nothing to criticize you for. That’s it.”
“Then I’ll criticize you.” Xin Ziyan sneered coldly. “What are you doing driving Ning Cheng away? He climbs walls and breaks tiles circling your manor daily—you find it unbearable? If you don’t find it unbearable, I find being stopped by him in my sedan chair daily crying unbearable. Let him return.”
Ning Yi opened his eyes, his gaze cold and cruel.
“You’re not my subordinate—you’re my teacher and friend. I won’t move against you, won’t interfere with what you want to do.” He said indifferently. “Ning Cheng is my subordinate. I have the right to move him. Please don’t interfere with me either.”
“If I were your subordinate, would you also plan to drive me away?” Xin Ziyan sneered coldly.
Ning Yi remained silent.
Xin Ziyan stared fixedly at him for a long while, his eyes disappointed. After a long time, he said, “If you plan to ruin yourself over one woman, letting these ten-plus years of painstaking efforts fail at the final step, that’s also up to you. I’ll just count myself blind.”
“How could that be?” Ning Yi slightly raised his long lashes, smiling. That smile sank in pale golden smoke, looking not like a smile but rather chillingly eerie. “Worldly matters are strange. Whether in position or not in position, many things become unavoidable. Since it’s like this, I want even more to try whether that sole unique position can let me live… somewhat more as I please.”
He spoke lightly, but Xin Ziyan heard the bleakness within. After long silence, he sighed softly. “I wanted to advise you to give up… Some people are destined to be enemies. Reaching this point today, if you can’t see through it, you’ll only harm yourself.”
“How could I not see through it?” Ning Yi smiled, his slightly upturned eye corners flying with flowing, graceful arcs—beautiful as a dazzling dream, yet also a dream causing one to sink into chilling depths. “Haven’t you seen I’m preparing a gift for the Prince of Shunyi?” He pointed to an exquisite gift basket on the desk.
The basket was very refined, wrapped very tightly—one couldn’t see what was inside.
“I’m also preparing to personally write a letter of congratulations to the Prince of Shunyi and Grand Consort, using full princely protocol.” Ning Yi smiled, spreading paper, wetting ink, raising his brush to write, yet stopping again. He gazed at Xin Ziyan with a faint smile, saying nothing.
Xin Ziyan sighed and had to withdraw, closing the door behind him.
The last trace of light was shut out by the closing door panels. Curtains hung heavy, admitting no faint glow. That person sank in pale golden smoke, holding his brush, facing snow-white gold-pressed Shuluo paper in a fixed posture.
Silent, for a very long time.