*That means he didn’t go to Shuzhou for his deceased son*

On the second day of the New Year in the fifty-first year of Yuanshao, Fourth Master stumbled badly just as he stepped outside. Old Madam of Duke Zhenguo’s manor wore a displeased expression. “During the New Year celebrations of all times, what inauspicious omen are you inviting?”

On any ordinary day, Fourth Master would have apologized with trepidation and then retreated trembling with fear. But today, knowing he was about to learn the family’s most hidden secrets, he had been continuously tense and extremely indignant—if the sovereign lacked clarity and treated all his ministers as mere ants, could the heavens still be considered just and clear?

This combination of tension and fury caused him, upon hearing the word “inauspicious,” to feel it spreading onto Old Madam of Duke Zhenguo herself, making him speak words that defied his mother for the first time in his life: “For twenty years, Mother, you’ve used the deaths of First Brother and Second Brother, and Third Brother’s religious retreat, to constantly make me feel guilty, to make me feel unworthy of everything I have now.”

“But what exactly have I gained? I didn’t receive Duke Zhenguo’s manor’s title, didn’t receive high office or generous salary, didn’t even receive what my three elder brothers had so easily—Father’s guidance, Mother’s affection. I’m already an old man, yet I’ve never had these things. Instead, Mother’s twenty years of scolding have made me even more timid and weak, turning me into someone even I despise.”

“It’s Mother who made me feel like the inauspicious one!”

He grew more agitated as he spoke, stunning everyone in the room. Old Madam of Duke Zhenguo was also shocked speechless, but immediately began scolding loudly, “What madness has possessed you? You wretched son, defiant and unfilial thing!”

Fourth Master’s body stiffened, and he had nothing more to say.

His words just now had indeed been defiant toward his mother.

His momentum weakened, yet he still persisted in not bowing his head. Having a sudden flash of inspiration, he simply turned and ran outside—Mother never went out anyway.

At the main gate, he happened to encounter Lan Shanjun and Yu Qingwu arriving.

Yu Qingwu greeted him, and he replied awkwardly, “Happy New Year, joy to the whole family.”

Yu Qingwu found this amusing, thinking he was afraid because he had to go see Duke Zhenguo and his son. He patted his hand and said, “Fourth Uncle, if something’s the matter, this is just the beginning—you mustn’t lose your composure.”

Fourth Master managed to steady himself somewhat: “I’d also like not to lose my footing—but these feet seem to have stopped working.”

With his anger toward his mother fading, he was left weak and paralyzed with fear.

Yu Qingwu then rode in the same carriage with him to provide comfort.

In the carriage, Lan Shanjun learned what Fourth Master had just done. She sighed, “Even the most honest and dutiful person has times when they’re unwilling to endure anymore.”

Huihui nodded. “Grandmother now berates Fourth Uncle with all manner of words. Fourth Aunt has that same temperament and suffers bullying in daily life too.”

About an hour later, the group arrived at the Daoist temple and met Duke Zhenguo and his son.

Lan Shanjun observed that they looked even more haggard this year, especially Old Duke Zhenguo, whose beard was grizzled white and whose wrinkled skin sagged on his face, making him look as though his days were numbered.

Indeed, he was close to death.

Seeing this scene, Fourth Master began to cry and fell to his knees with a thud. “Father, your son has come to see you.”

Old Duke Zhenguo remained indifferent as always, his gaze only showing some difference when it fell upon Lan Shanjun.

He looked past Fourth Master and the others, asking softly, “I heard that Duan Boyan picked you up and raised you?”

Lan Shanjun nodded, knelt down and kowtowed once, saying, “Granddaughter can see that you’re not unaware of news from the outside world.”

Old Duke Zhenguo patted the prayer cushion beside him. “Sit down.”

Lan Shanjun sat as instructed.

Old Duke Zhenguo then had everyone else leave, keeping only her and Duke Zhenguo to talk.

Zhu Shi and the others looked at each other, uncertain what this meant. Only Fourth Master, being in the know, suddenly developed a stubborn streak and said, “Father, your son also wishes to listen.”

Old Duke Zhenguo raised his eyes. “Get out.”

Fourth Master got out.

However, Yu Qingwu hesitated, unwilling to leave Lan Shanjun alone here.

He feared Shanjun might suddenly be abducted or harmed.

He was quite afraid.

He didn’t move, and Old Duke Zhenguo surprisingly said nothing more.

Fourth Master’s courage grew from desperation. Having already walked to the doorway, seeing Yu Qingwu act this way, he ran back and plopped down on his rear.

This time, Old Duke Zhenguo didn’t tell him to get out.

A trace of a smile appeared on Duke Zhenguo’s perpetually solemn face. “Little Fourth, how is it that in your old age you’re still like when you were young, still with that scoundrel’s manner?”

Fourth Master’s eyes reddened upon hearing this. “Third Brother, you spoke to me.”

Twenty years—every time he came, Third Brother never said a word. Only Father would say a few bland remarks.

Duke Zhenguo smiled slightly, then looked at Lan Shanjun, quietly studying her for a moment before saying, “In previous years, you came and left, your heart also looking down on your grandfather and me. Coming now, you’re finally willing to speak with us calmly.”

He said, “Is it because you’ve learned the truth and feel that your grandfather and I are pitiable?”

Lan Shanjun slowly nodded. “I suppose so?”

Duke Zhenguo shook his head. “We’re not pitiable.”

“Therefore, there’s no need to pity us.”

A chill ran down Lan Shanjun’s spine. “What do you mean?”

Old Duke Zhenguo suddenly spoke up, first asking her, “Logically speaking, with Ni Tao’s matter fading and you all having learned the truth, you shouldn’t have brought Old Fourth to find me again… Has something else happened?”

Lan Shanjun nodded, took out Ni Tao’s letter from her hand, and explained the entire situation. Old Duke Zhenguo silently took the letter and shook his head. “It does seem like a letter meant for me.”

He murmured, “He knew… Who knew?”

After a long while, he suddenly raised his head and asked Lan Shanjun, “Why did Duan Boyan become a monk?”

Lan Shanjun’s heart tightened. “I thought it was because I was left at the base of the temple, so he chose to become a monk.”

Old Duke Zhenguo: “Temples are generally on mountains—what was he doing going up a mountain?”

Lan Shanjun was taken aback, then said, “I once heard Old Madam Shou say that he had mentioned wanting to become a monk before.”

Old Duke Zhenguo shook his head. “No… that was just angry words he said to Prince Qi. When Prince Qi said he would have him executed at dawn, he said he would become a monk and accumulate virtue so he wouldn’t suffer punishment.”

Lan Shanjun’s face paled slightly. “Then why did he go to that temple? Was it… was it to commemorate his deceased son?”

Old Duke Zhenguo: “In the temple, was there ever a perpetual lamp being tended?”

Lan Shanjun: “There was.”

Some were lit by villagers from the foot of the mountain, and some were lit collectively. After all, lamp oil money was expensive.

But ever since they discovered the old monk eating pork, no one had come to light lamps anymore.

She recalled: “Wait… I seem to remember there was indeed one lamp that was perpetual. Whenever he had money in my childhood, the old monk would replenish the oil. However, later we used it for candles.”

Old Duke Zhenguo: “What name was written on it?”

Lan Shanjun tried hard to remember: “It should have been ‘Ten Thousand People’—”

“Just those three characters.”

Old Duke Zhenguo’s eyes grew increasingly gentle. “So he truly knew.”

Lan Shanjun immediately pressed, “What exactly does it mean?”

Old Duke Zhenguo fell silent, as if sinking into memories, completely unable to answer her question. It was Duke Zhenguo who said, “You already know that His Majesty had Father take away fifty thousand phantom soldiers, correct?”

Fourth Master quickly nodded. “Yes.”

Duke Zhenguo looked at Yu Qingwu. “Regarding this process, what are your thoughts?”

Yu Qingwu: “Shanjun and I thought that Grandfather initially didn’t know about the fifty thousand empty positions. Only after leading the troops out did he discover this matter. But turning back was already too late—I imagine that at the time, Father-in-law was kept at His Majesty’s side as a hostage?”

Fourth Master hadn’t considered this layer and instantly widened his eyes.

Duke Zhenguo nodded. “I indeed served as a hostage.”

He sighed. “Never thought that today I would still be able to speak of that year’s events.”

He looked at Old Duke Zhenguo. “Father, will you tell it?”

Old Duke Zhenguo clutched the letter, silent for a long time, but finally said, “In the twenty-ninth year of Yuanshao, His Majesty commanded me to lead one hundred thousand troops to Shuzhou. I knew in my heart that among them there were definitely ten to twenty thousand phantom soldiers.”

“But excluding twenty thousand, I still had eighty thousand troops and felt no fear. So I took my two sons to the battlefield, wanting them to gain some military merit.”

“But after I arrived at the location, I discovered I had overestimated His Majesty—what he gave me included at least thirty thousand phantom soldiers.”

“At this time, though dissatisfied in my heart, I still felt it wasn’t very serious. Our military forces were sufficient; taking Shuzhou wouldn’t be difficult. It was just that… my reputation in the future might not sound good.”

“But this was His Majesty’s will. When the sovereign demands a minister’s death, the minister has no choice but to die. I could only follow orders. However…”

He suddenly closed his eyes, and even after twenty years of Daoist cultivation, he still found it difficult to suppress his current fury. “In the Battle of Shangyang, I ordered ten thousand men to attack the city gates—it should have been foolproof. But when it came time to muster the troops, I discovered—”

His eyelids trembled. “I discovered that at least half of them were old, weak, sick, and disabled—they were conscripts forcibly seized to fill the numbers.”

Lan Shanjun shot to her feet with a start. “Forcibly seized?”

Old Duke Zhenguo opened his eyes with difficulty. “Yes. Seized from nearby villages.”

Lan Shanjun was still shaken: “Why?”

Old Duke Zhenguo: “When troops march in formation, how many soldiers there are can be observed. If there are too few people, it will attract much attention. This Shuzhou campaign drew countless eyes—at least on the surface, there could be no mistakes.”

Lan Shanjun asked incredulously, “So they forcibly seized conscripts to fill the ranks?”

Old Duke Zhenguo said mournfully, “I don’t know who gave His Majesty this idea. Through some unfortunate coincidence, these soldiers were sent before me. But by the time I discovered this, it was already too late.”

“Your eldest uncle and second uncle already harbored resentment in their hearts. Upon discovering this matter, they wanted to withdraw with these people, unwilling to let them go to their deaths. But this was a battlefield—how could it be treated as child’s play? I naturally refused.”

The two groups fell into dispute, neither yielding, which allowed the Shuzhou rebels to exploit the opening. Shangyang was a crushing defeat, and it caused his two sons to die alongside those old, weak, sick, and disabled conscripts.

“Afterward, His Majesty sent your father with reinforcements, intending to bury this matter within Duke Zhenguo’s manor…”

Old Duke Zhenguo took a deep breath and said, “At this point, my reputation was already poor, and Duke Zhenguo’s manor suffered everyone’s scorn. I had originally intended to return to court and state this matter clearly, but in the thirty-first year of Yuanshao, news came of the Crown Prince’s and Duan Boyan’s deaths… I hesitated and never mentioned it to His Majesty, only pretending not to know. His Majesty also never brought up this matter—perhaps he’s already forgotten.”

Yu Qingwu and Fourth Master listened until their backs went numb, especially Fourth Master. He murmured, “Phantom soldiers are phantom soldiers—why did living people have to be forced to die?”

Old Duke Zhenguo: “This question should be asked of His Majesty—why did it have to be this way?”

He looked at Lan Shanjun. “Regarding this matter, Duan Boyan probably knew.”

Lan Shanjun murmured, “Then he didn’t go to Shuzhou for his deceased son. He went to Shuzhou for those innocent old, young, weak, and disabled who were seized and killed.”

“He kept the perpetual lamp burning for them all along…”

“He knew—”