The night was deep, dark clouds concealing the moon, shrouding Emperor Yun’s sleeping palace, the Zichen Hall, in layers of shadows. Zhao Yan, still the crown prince at the time, hurriedly entered the inner hall and immediately frowned at the room’s medicinal odor. Thick silk curtains dimmed and darkened the palace lamps’ light. The person on the dragon bed kept coughing continuously. This sleeping palace seemed already aged and lifeless like the person on the bed—not yet in its twilight years but already decrepit, no longer able to emit the slightest vitality.
Zhao Yan quietly sighed, concealing the desolation rising in his heart. He lowered his head and walked to the sickbed, gently calling, “Father Emperor.”
The person on the dragon bed slowly opened his eyes. Those eyes that once looked down upon all beings flickered with light for just a moment before immediately dimming. Emperor Yun, Zhao Yue, was only thirty-five years old and should have been in his prime, but since ascending the throne, he had been trapped almost daily in maneuvering with the Xia clan. Combined with personally reviewing memorials every night, he had finally exhausted himself to the point of collapse and illness. Even the most excellent imperial physicians could not pull this emperor from death’s shadow.
Seeing this made Zhao Yan’s heart ache. He quickly grasped Zhao Yue’s hand and said, “Father Emperor specially summoned this son. Do you have something to say?”
Zhao Yue sighed heavily, his gaze falling on Zhao Yan with attachment. “Yan’er, you must have already seen it—Father Emperor doesn’t have much time left.”
Zhao Yan’s vision immediately blurred, and he quickly said, “Father Emperor must not speak nonsense. Didn’t the imperial physicians say that with proper care, your illness will quickly improve?”
Zhao Yue smiled bitterly and shook his head. “I know my own body better than anyone. Never mind, there’s no point in saying such idle words. Yan’er, today I specifically sent your mother empress away and summoned you to see me alone. Do you know why?”
Zhao Yan’s heart suddenly jumped, and for some reason he felt an impulse to flee. At this moment, Father Emperor’s grip on his hand suddenly tightened, pinching him painfully. Then those clouded eyes shot out sharp light as he said, “After Father Emperor passes, this kingdom will eventually be yours, but you’re still young. The Xia clan in court watches eagerly, and they will certainly take advantage of your unstable imperial power to become even more audacious in usurping state power. You absolutely cannot let them succeed! The things Father Emperor couldn’t complete—can you continue doing them for Father Emperor?”
Zhao Yan stared wide-eyed, his mind buzzing, and stammered, “But Mother Empress…”
Hatred appeared in Zhao Yue’s eyes. “Yes, your mother empress will certainly watch you closely, preferably supporting you as the Xia clan’s puppet, obeying their every command. This is what she’s been plotting for years. If they truly succeed, this Great Mu kingdom will be in grave danger.” Speaking with such agitation, he couldn’t help coughing again. His chest beneath the brocade quilt heaved violently, making constant wheezing sounds like an old bellows. Zhao Yan quickly helped him catch his breath, saying with a tearful voice, “Father Emperor, don’t get angry. I’ll listen to you, but what should I do?”
Zhao Yue looked at the child before him and suddenly thought of another person’s figure. Complex emotions appeared in his eyes as he gasped, “When your wings aren’t yet full, you absolutely cannot fight them directly. There’s another person you must work with. Only when you brothers unite can you defeat the Xia clan.”
Zhao Yan was stunned, then realized, “Father Emperor means Chong Jiang? He’s still at the Hexi military camp.”
Zhao Yue was slightly absent-minded about the words that had slipped out, paused, then continued, “Yes, Chong Jiang holds the Xiao family army’s hundred thousand troops, enough to contend with the Xia clan. I had Chong Jiang enter the palace from childhood to study with you precisely so you could form brotherly bonds. Now seeing that you can indeed support each other and are intimately close, I’m very comforted. Listen, from now on you must treat him as a true brother, never create discord with him. Only with that thing in his hands can you truly defeat the Xia clan.”
Seeing Zhao Yan’s expression still somewhat dazed, he gripped his hand tightly again, using almost all his strength, “Yan’er, you must remember—this realm belongs to us Zhao family, and absolutely cannot belong to the Xia family!”
The intimidation and coldness shooting from those eyes made Zhao Yan suddenly wake from his memories. Cold wind poured in through the half-closed palace door. His gaze swept over the memorials on the desk, and he rubbed his temples, slowly rising to walk to the long corridor outside the palace gate. If he hadn’t suddenly recalled this conversation with Father Emperor, he wouldn’t have thought that bow might have problems. At this moment, he looked up at the glazed roof tiles and layered eaves hidden under the night, thinking coldly, “Chong Jiang, my good brother, you mustn’t disappoint me.”
At this moment, Xiao Du faced that very silver bow. This was an excellent curved bow with a light, vigorous body and gleaming bowstring. He still remembered that day in the hall when he was enfeoffed as marquis—Emperor Yun personally descended from the dragon throne and solemnly placed this bow in his hands. Behind the beaded crown, those eyes flashed with excitement and expectation as he said, “Famous generals deserve famous bows. Someday, when you draw the bow and nock an arrow, you can use it to eliminate treacherous parties and build new merit.”
Recalling past events, Xiao Du’s hand holding the bow trembled slightly. Looking back now, that was the closest he had ever been to his birth father. When Emperor Yun died, he was far away in the northwest military camp and didn’t even have a chance to see him one last time.
Seeing his strange expression, Yuanxi gently grasped his hand. “Did you think of something?”
Xiao Du shook his head. “You’re certain he meant this bow? I often look at it but have never discovered any secrets inside.”
But Yuanxi was certain. “Since he used so much effort to specifically lure me into stealing this bow, it must be extremely important to him. Before he takes his next step, we should find out sooner rather than later.”
Xiao Du turned the bow over repeatedly in his hands but couldn’t see any clues for the moment. Suddenly the late emperor’s words flashed through his mind: “Someday when you draw the bow and nock an arrow, you can use it to eliminate treacherous parties and build new merit.” His heart stirred, and he murmured, “This bow—I’ve never actually used it.”
Yuanxi and he looked at each other, both suddenly understanding. Xiao Du then stood holding the bow and used all his strength to draw the bowstring taut. At this moment, with a “click” sound, the previously seamlessly joined bow body suddenly loosened. Xiao Du quickly turned that mechanism and discovered there was indeed a hidden compartment inside.
Seeing that the silver bow’s secret was about to be revealed, both Xiao Du and Yuanxi were somewhat excited. They quickly reached into the hidden compartment and found a yellowed paper hidden inside, bearing the late emperor’s personal imperial calligraphy: “Lingchan Temple, Master Hongyu.”
Evening drums sounded repeatedly, startling countless birds to sweep up from the forest. Lingchan Temple’s incense offerings weren’t particularly prosperous. Though the temple’s abbot, Master Hongyu, had gained fame more than ten years ago in a Buddhist doctrine debate, he had since only practiced in closed retreat, never receiving outside visitors. Those pilgrims who came seeking him, after being repeatedly turned away, grew tired of seeking disappointment and stopped coming. Thus over the years, the temple had become increasingly deserted.
At this moment, the stone steps outside Lingchan Temple’s gate were covered with moss and fallen leaves. Xiao Du lifted his robe and climbed the steps, his heart extremely uneasy. Eight full years had passed since the late emperor left him this message. What exactly did he want to tell him through Master Hongyu? Now that the late emperor had long since passed away, would Master Hongyu still remember his promise from years past, and would he be willing to see him?
Harboring various doubts, he knocked on the temple gate. A young novice opened the door and, seeing the noble bearing of the person before him, knew this wasn’t an ordinary visitor. He pressed his palms together and bowed, asking, “What brings you here, benefactor?”
Xiao Du hesitated slightly before speaking, “I’m looking for Master Hongyu.”
The young novice looked at him strangely and quickly refused, “The abbot never receives outside visitors. Please return, benefactor.”
As he was about to close the door, Xiao Du immediately reached out to grab the door panel, his tone containing unquestionable determination, “I must see Master Hongyu. Go announce that Marquis Xuanyuan Xiao Du requests an audience—he will definitely see me.”
The young novice was intimidated by his bearing and could only enter with a face full of suspicion to make the announcement. After a while, he returned respectfully, saying, “The abbot says to please enter the meditation room for conversation.”
In the simple meditation room, light sandalwood incense burned. Master Hongyu sat in meditation on a cushion with closed eyes. Hearing Xiao Du’s entering footsteps, he opened his eyes. Those eyes, already as indifferent as an ancient well, showed slight ripples upon meeting Xiao Du’s face, but they quickly disappeared back into the deep pool.
Xiao Du quickly bowed respectfully to the master. Master Hongyu sighed deeply, “I waited for you a full eight years. You’ve finally come.”
Xiao Du’s heart jumped, then he could barely contain his excitement and quickly asked, “Dare I ask Master, why did the late emperor have me come find you?”
Master Hongyu’s gaze gradually deepened, as if falling into distant memories, and he said slowly, “Eight years ago, your father emperor indeed left a message with me. He told me that if you could come find me, I should immediately notify him to come meet you.”
Hearing the address “father emperor,” Xiao Du was struck as if by lightning and blurted out, “You… you know everything!”
Master Hongyu glanced at him and sighed, “Indeed, you already know everything. Your father emperor has also passed away, and his intentions originally hidden in the bow have long since become irrelevant.”
Xiao Du stood in place with lowered head and clenched fists, his heart full of unspeakable regret. So when the late emperor gave him the silver bow, he had hoped Xiao Du would discover the hidden compartment in the bow and then be led to Master Hongyu to meet him. Who would have thought that when he discovered this, the late emperor had long since passed away, destined to be forever separated by life and death.
Seeing his appearance, Master Hongyu shook his head, “In those years, your father emperor often came to the temple to hear me preach on Zen. I knew he had many knots in his heart, the greatest being his inability to acknowledge you. But he was also afraid you wouldn’t be willing to recognize him as your father and couldn’t accept your own identity. So he could only hide this secret in the silver bow, hoping that if fate allowed, you could come here to meet him. Unfortunately, he waited a long time but never got to wait for you. All things have their causation and predetermined fate. Since it was destined to have no connection, my lord need not force it too much.”
Xiao Du couldn’t help but smile bitterly. Perhaps there truly was some arrangement in the unseen world—he and the late emperor were destined to have no father-son bond. No amount of regret and remorse would be useful. He thus concealed his sad emotions and bowed, saying, “Thank you for informing me, Master. Since this matter is concluded, I shouldn’t disturb you further.”
“Wait,” Master Hongyu raised his voice, staring at him intently, “Though you came late, my lord, your visit isn’t wasted. Five years ago, the late emperor entrusted something to me and instructed me to personally deliver it into your hands.”
Xiao Du suddenly stopped in his tracks. Five years ago—that was the year the late emperor died!