Hearing Xu Jingzong’s words, Tang Jian, for some unknown reason, dejectedly placed the bottle in his hand back into the wooden box, carefully wrapped it, cast one more lingering glance, then closed the box lid. He said to He Shao: “In my life, Tang Jian has never coveted others’ wealth or goods. Today’s actions are the shame of my lifetime. I merely accomplished some slight merit on the grassland, yet it blinded me to the path before my eyes. Just now, vile thoughts actually arose in my heart. Tang Jian apologizes here to Master He.” After speaking, he even prepared to bow formally.

This startled He Shao like a donkey viciously bitten by hornets—he immediately jumped behind Yun Ye. He was frightened. Just now it was merely a way of joking between friends. Whether Tang Jian was angry or cursing, he could remain expressionless and meet him tit for tat. This would only become laughing matter among friends. Which high official would care about two hundred strings of cash? Moreover, those items weren’t worth two hundred strings. A few people on the grassland, bored with nothing to do, were verbally sparring to amuse themselves. Even if Tang Jian gave He Shao two hundred strings, he wouldn’t dare accept. Tang Jian understood this, He Shao understood this, and Yun Ye, who came to mediate, understood even more clearly.

Tang Jian wore a face full of guilt, instantly bewildering the other three people present. Jokes and horseplay—no one would take things this seriously. If this was also a joke, it went too far. Tang Jian was also nearly fifty years old—he shouldn’t be unable to distinguish occasions. For a mere set of drinking vessels, to debase himself so.

“Gentlemen, don’t be surprised. This old man truly felt greed arise in his heart just now and genuinely wanted these items. This is the reason for my apology.” Tang Jian explained with a bitter smile.

“Since Duke Tang likes them, just take them. Are broken porcelain pieces worth taking seriously?” At this time, Yun Ye calling him Old Tang would be quite inappropriate. He was deadly serious, making everyone have to be solemn.

“If greed hadn’t arisen in my heart, this old man naturally wouldn’t let go. Now that greed has arisen, I must relinquish it. Though this celadon set is beautiful, it’s not as important as this old man’s moral integrity.” These words left Yun Ye pensive, He Shao utterly confused, and the ashamed Xu Jingzong unable to show his face.

With four eyes meeting, Yun Ye surrendered first, shaking his head and leaving first. We’re normal people—no need to bother with madmen. Not wanting things you like, drooling while looking at them, fighting over things you don’t like—what kind of logic is this? Tang Dynasty people are the most inexplicable lunatics in this world.

Yun Ye went again to see Xie Li. A thick iron chain was fastened around his neck. Zhang Baoxiang was wrapping cloth strips around his iron chain, worried the chain would damage Xie Li’s delicate skin. When the time came to parade him on Vermillion Bird Avenue, it wouldn’t look good and would disappoint the Chang’an citizens.

Seeing Yun Ye, Xie Li’s body unconsciously shrank back. Though his wrists and ankles didn’t hurt much anymore, they continuously oozed pale yellow fluid. Although he had killed many people—indeed, many were tortured to death by him: men, women, elderly, children, all included—making others suffer and watching others suffer, Xie Li had always believed this was a right given to him by the great god Tengger. He was born to make other enemies fear him. The range of his enemies was very broad—anyone who didn’t follow his will was his enemy. For enemies, no mercy was needed. When did wolf packs on the grassland ever release prey from their mouths? How could they rest without tearing it apart and swallowing it? This was how wolves survived. Those fat sheep reduced to food could only blame themselves for not obeying the Golden Wolf King’s will.

This seemingly harmless young man before him had made him experience pain more terrifying than death. When inflicting violence on others and seeing the weak, he too would mock them. Now that it fell upon himself, he discovered how brave those cowards he once mocked had been.

Yun Ye’s round-collared robe always had two pockets, convenient for tucking his hands into for warmth. He detested hiding his hands in sleeves—that looked very rustic. Now Cheng Chumo, Li Tai, Li Ke, and the academy students’ uniforms all had such pockets. Li Chengqian wanted to add two but was sprayed into a sieve by Zhangsun’s spit.

These two pockets always contained dried fruits and such—not because he was gluttonous, but because without cigarettes to smoke, his mouth felt uncomfortably idle, always feeling something was missing. Now he pulled out a handful of roasted soybeans. These were roasted by Huan Niang, much better than his own roasting. He rubbed them in his hand, blew away the shed bean skins, and filled his mouth with a large handful, crunching loudly.

Zhang Baoxiang stood up to salute Yun Ye, casually inserting himself between him and Xie Li, very afraid Yun Ye might suddenly attack.

“Xie Li, you speak Great Tang official language very well. Who taught you?” Yun Ye asked, sitting by the brazier warming his hands.

“I am the king of the grassland. Naturally I can speak you Tang people’s language. No need to learn.”

“A king who burrows into rat holes? You’ve got a dog chain around your neck and still say you’re Tengger’s favored son? Princess Yicheng taught you, didn’t she?” Yun Ye never understood why a king who was unruly and untamed on the grassland, under death’s threat, would disregard all dignity and abandon everything just to stay alive. For what?

“Wasn’t your Han emperor also chained by Shi Hu and raised like a dog? What’s wrong with me learning from that?” Xie Li had completely abandoned shame. Saying this meant he no longer cared about so-called kingly dignity—only seeking to survive. On this foundation, he used his own suffering to humiliate Yun Ye a bit and vent his heart’s pain.

Hearing Xie Li say this, Zhang Baoxiang secretly groaned, just about to find a way to dissuade Yun Ye. Unexpectedly, Yun Ye laughed and said to Xie Li: “Actually, today I’m just bored with nothing to do, so I specially ran over to see your miserable state. You’re right—whoever commits evil will eventually repay it. You probably won’t die. What about those subjects of yours?”

Xie Li burst into loud laughter, his face twisted and fierce, breathing heavily: “When Li Jing raided the camp, they didn’t resist with all their strength. Now fallen into your hands, whether killed, executed, preserved, or kept depends on the Great Tang Emperor’s wishes. I can barely manage myself—where would I have time to think about their future?”

Yun Ye and Zhang Baoxiang exchanged glances—neither expected he would answer this way.

“Great Khan, it seems I heard you were the first to ride a swift horse in flight. How did you shift blame to them?” Zhang Baoxiang, as a general, most hated those who fled in battle. Xie Li’s role in this war was not glorious.

“After I die, let the floods rage—this is probably the universal mentality of emperors.”

Today had great harvest. Witnessing Tang Jian’s rigorous three daily self-examinations, witnessing Xie Li’s extremely selfish imperial mentality, Yun Ye strolled contentedly through the snow, coming to the place where Princess Yicheng burned herself to death. He stopped and said to that patch of scorched earth: “Unfortunate woman, what good did your lifetime of strength do? Your death had not half a bit of value. Casually abandoning life and dignity for others is inadvisable. Now it seems like the stupidest behavior. Don’t come running into my dreams at night anymore, chattering annoyingly, making me unable to sleep well. I keep seeing you standing in the fire smiling at me. Having heard Xie Li’s words, you should finally give up, right? He’s too lazy to even say your name—do you still expect he’ll be grateful to you? Disturbing people’s dreams is a great offense. Stop bothering me. This is the end. I’ve done all I can. Rest in peace!”

Troubling Xie Li wasn’t Yun Ye’s sudden impulse. Ever since Princess Yicheng self-immolated before his eyes, he’d been having continuous nightmares. Several times he woke in the middle of the night with cold sweat soaking his sleeping clothes. In dreams, Princess Yicheng’s bright eyes always seemed to have something to tell him.

Especially this morning, when Huan Niang told him the Princess also liked eating roasted soybeans, in that instant Yun Ye’s hair stood on end. It seemed he’d only developed this taste after Princess Yicheng died. Eating roasted soybeans was a bad habit—he absolutely must break it.

He pulled out all the soybeans from his pockets and scattered them evenly on the scorched earth. Turning his pockets inside out, he found not one more soybean. Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief.

The snow house was no longer habitable. As soon as fire was lit inside, water dripped down from the tent. After all, this wasn’t the extreme northern wilderness. Though mid-February weather was cold, one could also feel a trace of spring’s breath. On south-facing slopes, snow began melting. Cattle and sheep no longer had the laziness of previous days, scattered across slopes greedily feeding. Even the harshest winter had its passing time.

As Yun Ye directed auxiliary soldiers to shovel the ice and snow from the tent, Chang’an’s envoy finally arrived. Leading them was Wen Yanbo, Wen Daya’s younger brother. He was Assistant Director of the Palace Secretariat. His whole family were die-hard loyalists of the Li Tang imperial house. From when Li Yuan raised troops, they were followers, and his relationship with Li’er was very harmonious, so the whole family’s meteoric rise had no suspense whatsoever.

The envoy delegation gave Yun Ye the feeling of luxury—super luxury. Not only did they bring large quantities of gold, silver, and valuables, they actually had several carts of beautiful women, each one gorgeous. Just as Yun Ye was drooling waiting for Old Wen to distribute one or two to him, bad news arrived.

“The Marquis of Lantian, Yun Ye, is to immediately return to the capital. No delays permitted.” This was the imperial edict Wen Yanbo gave Yun Ye. No explanation of causes, no mention of consequences—just one sentence: Return to the capital! Immediately! It only lacked writing that if you return late, your legs will be broken.

“Duke Wen, hasn’t my junior’s edicts always been issued by Her Majesty the Empress? Why is it His Majesty’s edict this time?”

Wen Yanbo was a true gentleman, speaking genially to Yun Ye: “This matter was personally ordered by His Majesty. This old man heard that once you reach seventeen years of age, you’re considered an adult and should be under His Majesty’s jurisdiction. The Grand Emperor is now proclaiming throughout the capital that you ran to the grassland to avoid his old self’s gambling debts. He also says, taking pity on you, he’s decided to only collect the principal—the interest and such won’t be counted. You’d better quickly return to the capital, pay off the gambling debt. For a real man to always owe debts—what kind of behavior is that?”

“Your elder brother still owes this junior five hundred strings in gambling money he hasn’t repaid. It seems upon returning to the capital, I can only first collect gambling debts, then repay the Grand Emperor’s usury. This junior is unlucky—your family shouldn’t expect peace either.”

Wen Yanbo suddenly changed to a sorrowful expression and said to Yun Ye: “Marquis Yun doesn’t know yet? My elder brother already passed away from illness before New Year’s Day. He probably can’t repay your gambling debt. Now the family only has the old, weak, and young children. Do you have the heart to go press for debt?”

Yun Ye was greatly shocked. Ancients were extremely respectful toward the deceased. Even with great enmity, generally speaking, debts were cancelled upon death. For five hundred strings of cash, he couldn’t very well dig Wen Daya out of his grave to collect, could he?

He bowed deeply to Wen Yanbo: “This junior truly didn’t know Master Yanhong had passed away. Many discourtesies—please forgive me, sir.”

Wen Yanbo laughed heartily and said to Yun Ye: “Before departing, my elder brother told the family that in this life he enjoyed all glory and honor, reached the pinnacle of officialdom, had no regrets whatsoever. The family need not grieve—just live as usual. Keeping him in the heart is more useful than carving on a wooden tablet. He even laughed saying he welcomed you to come collect the debt from him.”