This was a clear day—so clear it seemed nothing unusual could possibly happen under such sunshine.
The ceremony was held on the grassland outside the royal court. High platforms and colorful canopies had long been erected, red banners flying for ten miles around. Ten thousand royal troops patrolled the surrounding ten miles. The Blue Bird, White Deer, and Fire Fox tribes formed the central guard. All around sat dozens of cauldrons large enough to bathe in, rolling with the fragrance of mutton. People continuously used enormous ladles to scoop out the cooked meat, using killing blades to cut it into head-sized chunks. After rolling them in spiced brine, they carried them on large wooden platters in a flowing stream to the seats of tribal chiefs and nobles near the high platform. The aroma of meat and wine was carried far away by the unbridled wind, intoxicating people from miles away.
Tribespeople from near and far all came dressed in their finest, singing and dancing. Women whirled in flower-patterned skirts like countless brilliant blossoms opening against a backdrop of deep emerald.
In the rear hall, Feng Zhiwei personally straightened Heilian Zheng’s seven-jeweled golden crown. Carefully examining the man in his golden robe trimmed with black borders, jade buttons, and colorful waist saber, his heroic spirit bursting forth, she smiled. “You look much more presentable than when I first met you.”
“You’ll discover many more of my good points.” Heilian Zheng never understood modesty. Staring at Feng Zhiwei in her black dress simply belted with silver, he said, “Why haven’t you changed clothes?”
“The royal court prepared a red robe for me, but I’m still in mourning.” Feng Zhiwei took his arm and walked out, saying lightly, “Besides… perhaps I won’t need to change clothes.”
Heilian Zheng turned his head to look at her but said nothing. Meiduo suddenly followed them, saying, “Azha, I’ll go with you too!” She reached to take his other arm.
Heilian Zheng pushed her away, staring at her red robe—it was a fiery color with a golden belt studded with agates and amber, remarkably similar to the Great Consort’s formal attire. Heilian Zheng had already regretted not being able to see Feng Zhiwei in the grassland Great Consort’s magnificent formal dress. Now seeing Meiduo dressed this way, he immediately frowned.
“Aunt Meiduo,” he said, “you can follow my mother consort, but you cannot wear this robe. Don’t let people see it and misunderstand.”
“What misunderstanding?” Meiduo’s face was blank and innocent.
She probably hoped for misunderstanding. Feng Zhiwei saw it all, smiled, her gaze sweeping over Meiduo’s hand tightly gripping Heilian Zheng’s belt.
“You know what misunderstanding.” Heilian Zheng showed no mercy, pulling her hand away.
“Great Consort.” Meiduo actually turned around and grabbed Feng Zhiwei’s belt. “This is the new dress I rushed to make for the grand ceremony. I spent a month on it. Do you want me to take it off right now?”
Feng Zhiwei looked at her pleading expression and recalled her proud air when they first met, finding it quite interesting. She couldn’t help but smile.
When she smiled, something special floated up in her eyes. Meiduo looked into those eyes and suddenly felt her heart tremble. Her hand unconsciously loosened.
Heilian Zheng immediately took Feng Zhiwei’s hand and strode away. Peony rushed up from behind, smilingly draping an arm over Meiduo’s shoulder. “Let’s go. I have good news to tell you.”
A moment later, Feng Zhiwei, walking ahead, heard Meiduo’s sharp scream—a sound filled with incredulous fury.
Feng Zhiwei smiled, gesturing to Zong Chen beside her, and quickly left.
Just as they were about to step through the last door, a team of young lamas quickly came over and blocked Feng Zhiwei.
“Dama Ala says, please do not attend the ceremony.”
“What?” Heilian Zheng’s expression immediately darkened.
“Dama Ala says if you truly will love the grassland as you claim, then do not influence the most solemn celebration of the King’s life on this auspicious day, casting dark clouds over his future path.” The young lama bowed to Feng Zhiwei, then turned to Heilian Zheng. “My King, Ala says if she attends, he will not appear.”
“Then don’t appear.” Heilian Zheng didn’t hesitate. “I refuse to believe that an enthronement ceremony lacking the Living Buddha’s prayers will truly be cursed!”
“My King!” The chiefs who had come to greet them cried out in alarm.
“The Heaven God’s will requires Dama Ala’s guidance. The birth of grassland kings throughout history cannot be separated from Ala Father!” Blue Bear Chief Hutejia knelt on one knee, looking earnestly into Heilian Zheng’s eyes. “This is not like the dispute over the Great Consort that day. It’s merely not attending the ceremony. Dama Ala has already made a concession. Please don’t be willful anymore!”
“My King, a ceremony without the Living Buddha will not be recognized by the tribespeople!”
“The Great Consort can be established on another day. No matter what, the enthronement ceremony is most important!”
The clamoring voices of persuasion rushed forward urgently. Someone was secretly tugging at Feng Zhiwei’s sleeve, signaling her to excuse herself.
“Your Living Buddha insists I not appear at the ceremony.” Feng Zhiwei finally spoke, her tone calm. “Everyone has heard this.”
Everyone nodded, somewhat unclear why she emphasized this.
“Then I won’t go.” Her next statement was casual. Turning to leave, she said, “Please, lords, protect the King well.”
“Zhiwei—” Heilian Zheng called out in a long voice. Feng Zhiwei had already left without looking back. On the other side, Living Buddha Dama’s ceremonial implements and ritual objects processed out of the courtyard in a long procession.
Dama, sitting in his palanquin, looked even more decrepit today, slumped softly there. His gold-embroidered robe hung empty and loose. He lifted his eyelids on the palanquin to glance at Feng Zhiwei. Feng Zhiwei smiled at him and mouthed some words.
Dama paused, not yet able to figure out what she meant, when Feng Zhiwei had already brushed past him.
The grassland king’s enthronement ceremony was not as complicated and ceremonious as in the Central Plains. The twelve tribal armies formed arrays to display military might. The twelve tribal chiefs presented gifts. Dama would dot cream cheese from a golden basin on the new king’s forehead to pray for the grassland’s yearly abundance. Then some divine signs would be displayed, followed by everyone eating, drinking, singing, and dancing, holding grand horseback archery and hunting activities. After three days and nights of festivities, it would be complete.
Heilian Zheng arrived with the momentum of having annihilated the Pixiu tribe, supported by the two great valiant tribes of Blue Bear and Iron Leopard. This intimidated those ambitious brothers in the tribes who coveted the throne from acting rashly. All publicly or privately held forces were guarded without a single leak.
Of the twelve tribal armies, only eleven remained, arrayed in square formations below the high ridge. Each wore leather armor in gold, azure, white, crimson, blue, black, light gray, dark gray, yellow, moon-white, and green—eleven colors in all. Their appearance was stern and orderly, their military might like iron. They held identical curved long blades, the blade tips showing a deep, heavy black-gold color. Under the sunlight, they spread out endlessly. Rising and falling together, they dazzled into a churning sea of light, forcing people not to open their eyes.
Heilian Zheng in his golden robe on a black horse, his silver fox cloak flying and snapping, gave a long laugh and galloped down from the high ridge. Everywhere he passed, everyone thunderously knelt and touched their foreheads with their palms.
Horse hooves flying, scattering grass in all directions. Wherever Heilian Zheng’s horse galloped to a formation, that formation boldly drew their blades toward heaven. In the “whoosh whoosh” of unified sound, blade lights in eleven colors flashed like silk, layering and rolling like waves. Heilian Zheng was the sole wave rider atop the crest, looking down from the peak with ten thousand waves beneath his feet.
The grassland men roared their sincere submission. The grassland women’s eyes gleamed brilliantly.
After completing the circuit, the new king ascended the royal seat. Red felt and golden tables were laid on the high platform. The chiefs, in order of age, each presented gifts.
These were merely local specialties and native products from their respective territories, showing they were offering their most precious possessions for survival to the new king.
Heilian Zheng smiled graciously, lavishly praising each chief. Living Buddha Dama sat at his side, a faint smile on his wrinkled old face.
The last to come up was Fire Fox Chief Kele.
A young man in a fiery red leather robe with black fox fur, making his face—so different from typical grassland men—even more gorgeous. His long, flowing eyes smiled warmly. In his hands, a golden platter held a piece of black gold carved in the shape of a flying eagle.
All the chiefs showed envious expressions—Fire Fox territory contained a small black gold mine, so among the twelve tribes, apart from the Golden Lion, the Fire Fox tribe was the wealthiest.
“With my tribe’s most precious treasure for survival, I present it to the supremely honored Great King.” Kele’s manner was elegant and respectful as he raised the black gold high above his head.
Heilian Zheng stared at him, slightly curving his lips. “Brother Kele needn’t be so formal. You are the youngest chief of our Khuzhuo tribe. In the future, I will rely heavily on you, brother.”
“I am willing to be driven by the Great King.” Kele smiled as he withdrew.
Someone brought up a golden basin filled with pure white cream cheese. Living Buddha Dama shakily stood up.
Heilian Zheng turned his head, smiling as he ordered the female slave beside him, “Why don’t you help Dama Ala—”
Before he finished his sentence, his expression suddenly changed. Then everyone saw a residual greenish tinge spread between his brows. Amid cries of alarm, Heilian Zheng swayed and suddenly collapsed!
Uproar erupted. The chiefs all rushed forward. Living Buddha Dama shuddered, nearly knocking over the golden basin.
“Great King! Great King!” Blue Bear Chief and others surrounded Heilian Zheng, calling out repeatedly. Someone flew into the royal court without their feet touching the ground, dragging out medical officers and shamans. These people squeezed in covered in sweat, frantically checking pulses, consulting oracles, performing divinations, and invoking spirits in complete chaos. Yet they could say absolutely nothing about Heilian Zheng’s condition. After a long while, under the chiefs’ anxious questioning, the royal court medical officer finally stammered, “The Great King seems… seems beyond help…”
“What happened?” Everyone urgently asked. The Blue Bird and White Deer chiefs immediately exchanged glances, rearranging the royal army guards, surrounding the high platform so tightly not even water could leak through, blocking all nobles who rushed to inquire below the platform.
“Let me see, let me see—” Living Buddha Dama, gasping for breath, was supported as he approached. Everyone hastily made way. The old lama carefully looked at Heilian Zheng’s ghastly greenish complexion. Somewhat disbelieving, he checked his pulse. After a long while, he closed his eyes and gave a long sigh.
“My child… my child…” Tears streamed down the old lama’s face. “You shouldn’t have gone this way. How could this happen? Could the ominous dark clouds have covered your head so early?”
These words made the chiefs look at each other. They couldn’t help but recall how two days ago Heilian Zheng had defied the divine will and boldly sentenced himself to flogging. Someone said hesitantly, “Could it be the Heaven God’s blame…”
“What Heaven God’s blame!” Someone pushed forward and said loudly, “Look at the Great King’s complexion—it seems like poisoning. Clearly someone struck with poison. Check who approached the King today!”
The speaker was Kele.
“My son—” Peony, leading the Eight Braves, rushed up from the lower platform seats. All the way she kicked and shoved people aside, threw herself on Heilian Zheng and wept. “What happened to you? You were perfectly fine this morning…”
“Great Consort.” Jiade, whose face still showed the bruises from Chunyu Meng’s beating two days ago, pushed forward. Flipping Heilian Zheng’s eyelids, he said with deep concern, “Don’t rush to cry. I’ve heard that poisoners from the Central Plains carry antidotes on them. Better to first find the person who poisoned him and save the Great King—that’s what matters.”
“Who could the Great King have encountered this morning?” Though the Yinji clan nobles below were immediately blocked beneath the platform by the royal army, they had seen everything clearly. Someone immediately stretched their neck and shouted, “He came directly from the royal court. Wouldn’t it be the people close to him living together!”
After this statement, there was a moment of quiet, then like cold water splashing into hot oil, it exploded with a bang.
“Who else could be by the King’s side? Three days before and after establishing the consort, it’s the Great Consort who attends him!”
“Who accompanied the King when he came out from the rear hall this morning?”
“The Great Consort!”
“There were also serving female slaves!”
“Female slaves couldn’t get close to the King!”
“First summon all the female slaves who served the Great King this morning!” Jiade took it upon himself to start directing. “Interrogate them strictly.”
The frightened female slaves were dragged over, each crouching on the ground trembling.
“Heaven above, this morning the Great King’s clothing was personally arranged by the Great Consort.”
“Bre-breakfast was brought up by this slave, but at that time everyone ate together. The Great Consort even personally cut a piece of meat for the Great King…”
“When leaving, the King didn’t want us to attend. He walked together with the Great Consort. We slaves don’t know anything…”
After each finished speaking, they were all searched. The platform fell quiet again for a moment. Kele remained silently speechless. Jiade showed a trace of a smile at the corner of his eye but also said nothing. The Blue Bird and White Deer chiefs glanced at each other and said in a deep voice, “Great Consort Peony, what do you think…”
Liu Mudan sat dumbly, looking completely heartbroken and at a loss. She wiped her nose and casually smeared it on Kele beside her, saying in a weak voice, “…Uncles can decide. This old woman has no ideas left.”
“It’s impossible!” The Eight Braves shook their heads one after another. “How could the Great Consort harm the Great King? Don’t wrongly accuse people.”
“Whether it’s wrongful accusation or not, we must first investigate and question. Since the Great Consort is innocent, she should be even less bothered by our offense.” Kele answered calmly.
“Someone come.” The Blue Bird Chief nodded. “Invite the Great Consort!”
Though they said “invite,” the White Deer Chief summoned a full thousand royal troops. Everyone craned their necks watching the royal army with gleaming blades and armor march past in formation, the meaning in their eyes infinitely complex.
Some worried that something had finally gone wrong at the Great King’s enthronement celebration, that the grassland might explode into new bloodshed. Some were delighted that the Great King’s celebration had indeed changed—the more chaotic the better, perfect for fishing in troubled waters.
Blue Bird, White Deer, Blue Bear, and Iron Marten were gathering the royal army. Each family’s chiefs were quietly summoning their own guards. Somehow, Jiade had already withdrawn from the crowd.
Living Buddha Dama’s spirits had been somewhat distracted all day. He sat beside Heilian Zheng in silent contemplation.
The royal army marched in orderly formation toward the nearby Potala Second Palace. People stopped their singing and dancing, craning their necks to look.
“No need to invite. I’ve come.”
A woman’s voice, faint yet somehow clearly heard by everyone. Those on the platform all changed color.
The crowd parted in a line. Someone slowly approached.
A tall, slender woman in a black dress, dignified and severe, the hem trimmed with wide silver borders. In its plainness was a kind of solemn gravity. Compared with the surrounding brilliance, rather than appearing monotonous it seemed noble and refreshing. Her walking posture was like sleeves bringing wind, pursuing waves on water. In the sunlight across the green fields, she floated forward.
The crowd, looking at such bearing, momentarily overlooked that yellow face and downcast brows, unconsciously holding their breath and making way.
Feng Zhiwei had arrived.
The chiefs on the platform watched her composedly and gracefully approach. In their expressions appeared a trace of regret. Such a woman should have been the grassland’s most outstanding Great Consort without precedent. But unfortunately…
“Mother wolf who came to the grassland!” Suddenly someone in the silent crowd gnashed their teeth and shouted, “Dama Ala was absolutely right—every hair tip on you carries insoluble poison!”
“Dama Ala already said you are the King’s calamity and trap. Hatefully, the Great King was bewitched by you, ugly woman, and acted willfully!”
“Get out of the grassland! The Khuzhuo tribe needs harmony and peace, not the blood and war fire you bring!”
Dama’s prophecy—everyone present that day knew it. Heilian Zheng had defied the Living Buddha and sentenced himself to flogging for the Great Consort. Everyone had witnessed it with their own eyes. Now, regardless of truth or falsehood, all the blazing fury rushed directly toward Feng Zhiwei.
Someone raised their hand and threw the gnawed sheep bone they were holding. More people, taking the hint, threw whatever they held.
Gu Nanyi, following behind Feng Zhiwei, raised his hand and lightly swept it.
All the thrown objects seemed to meet an invisible wall, falling to the ground three feet from Feng Zhiwei. The Khuzhuo tribe people had never seen such miraculous martial arts. They all stared wide-eyed, frozen in place, just short of shouting, “Ghost!”
“Don’t throw things randomly.” In the silence, Feng Zhiwei tilted her head, smiling sweetly. “Be careful, or I’ll make you eat everything you threw.”
Her tone was light, yet when that gaze swept over them, everyone felt she wasn’t joking. Instantly they all stepped back.
“Great Consort, good that you’ve come.” The Blue Bird and White Deer chiefs came forward somewhat awkwardly. “The King has had an… incident…”
Toward these two devoted and loyal chiefs, Feng Zhiwei had always maintained some respect. She nodded slightly, quickly stepped forward to look at Heilian Zheng, and frowned. “What happened?”
“What happened?” Someone immediately sneered coldly. “You should ask yourself that, Great Consort.”
“Oh?”
“Stop playing dumb!” One of Heilian Zheng’s distant cousins stretched his neck and shouted, “The Great King was with you all morning, then he was poisoned. You mother wolf who came to the grassland, you couldn’t wait to strike at our King. Hand over the antidote!”
“Why would I strike at the King?” Feng Zhiwei smiled. “What good does his death do me?”
That person choked. Everyone fell into silence, feeling this statement hit the vital point. With the Great King alive, the Great Consort was the Great Consort. If the Great King was killed, what would the Great Consort count as?
But Kele suddenly smiled.
“Great Consort.” He said leisurely, “Strictly speaking, I shouldn’t meddle in Yinji affairs, but the King’s matter is the grassland’s matter. Everyone bears responsibility.”
Feng Zhiwei turned to smile at him. Kele raised his eyes.
Their gazes met, each flashing, neither showing any sign of yielding.
“Everyone, not long ago, our Fire Fox tribe’s warriors stationed at the grassland border intercepted a letter.” Kele pulled a paper letter from his sleeve. “The letter was written by the Great Consort to the Yuzhou grain route official who manages the royal court’s army provisions. The letter says—” He drew out his tone, saying slowly, “The grassland will soon have changes. Some military provisions are temporarily unneeded and should be kept in the Yuzhou granary. The Great Consort’s guard unit will come to receive them. I’d like to ask the Great Consort—what changes did you mention in the letter? Why suddenly no need for Yuzhou provisions? Why would your guard unit come to receive our grassland royal army’s military provisions?”
A commotion arose both on and below the platform. Even the chiefs didn’t know about this matter. They all stared at that letter in shock and suspicion. Kele, wearing an elegant slight smile, passed the letter around for everyone to see. The grassland nobles all knew Han script. Though they didn’t recognize Feng Zhiwei’s handwriting, that calligraphy was refined in bone and spirit. The letter paper was Central Plains-produced and bore the “Shengying” seal. On this grassland, apart from Feng Zhiwei, there was no second person who had these things.
Kele waved his hand. Below, someone immediately dragged up a bound man wearing the dowry escort guard’s uniform, kneeling below with a frightened expression.
“This is the messenger who delivered documents for the Great Consort, caught by the royal army near the Yuzhou border.” Kele said, “His behavior was suspicious at the time, arousing my subordinate’s suspicion. The letter was searched out this way.”
“Great Consort!” That man repeatedly kowtowed to Feng Zhiwei, his expression filled with guilt and remorse. “This subordinate failed in his duty! Please punish me!”
Feng Zhiwei watched with a cold smile, not moving a muscle. Kele lightly weighed the letter in his hand. His long, flowing golden seductive eyes glanced at her, his smile thin and cool. “Great Consort, may I make this guess—the current Great King’s only brother is still in swaddling clothes, his first child still in Nata’s belly. The royal family is in transition between generations. Are you perhaps trying to emulate Empress Dowager Peony, shouldering the burden of our grassland royal court after the King’s death, monopolizing power, then at an opportune moment, offering the entire Khuzhuo tribe to the court?”