The night air on the celestial steps was cool as water.
Having experienced the execution during the day that set the entire city boiling, this night was as deep as Mo Zi’s mood.
She sat on a mountain rock outside the workshop, left hand holding a carving knife, right hand a piece of rosewood. Even with talent, having not carved anything besides ships for so long, she felt inadequate. Or perhaps it was related to her pregnancy, because not only her craftsmanship but her reactions to other things had all slowed down.
The Dragon Boat Festival. Thinking of this, her left hand trembled, and the beautiful wood grain was marred by an ugly gash across it—half a day’s work ruined just like that. She sighed.
“Is this child making things very difficult for you?” Yuan Cheng walked into the bright light. He too had just finished the day’s affairs.
“Don’t say that—the little one will feel bad if he hears.” Mo Zi pouted slightly and shook her head, then gently stroked her protruding abdomen. “Your father isn’t serious. You just play nicely, okay?”
Yuan Cheng lowered his voice. “He can really hear?”
“There’s scientific basis for it, so don’t say a single bad word. If he feels bad, then I truly feel bad.” Mo Zi unconsciously had taken on a mother’s demeanor.
“Yes, Madam.” Yuan Cheng made a bow and sat beside her with a faint smile. Seeing the ruined carving, he asked, “Why the sigh?”
A perceptive person. With one look he knew she wasn’t troubled because she’d ruined the carving.
Mo Zi was silent for a while.
Yuan Cheng didn’t press her, taking the wood to examine it carefully. It was a small foal, lifelike.
Mo Zi decided to speak truthfully. “You know I don’t really concern myself with what you do. If you don’t say, I don’t ask.”
“If you ask, I will certainly tell the truth.” Yuan Cheng replied.
“On that point, Wu Yan can’t compare. With that one, whatever she asked, most of the answers she got were false.” She paused. “About what happened on the Dragon Boat Festival—I really want to ask you about it.”
“I’ll tell you everything I know.” He had known all along she would ask.
“Yuxiang wasn’t the Empress Dowager’s person, was she?” And of course not Liu Zhi’s person either.
Yuan Cheng nodded. “Correct.”
“She was your spy.” This wasn’t a question.
He nodded again.
“You had me help Jiang Shu propose marriage, anticipating that Liu Bao’er would refuse and instead propose wanting to marry you as a concubine, which I definitely wouldn’t agree to. This way, she would become completely flustered. Even if Yuxiang acted strangely, she wouldn’t notice. After the incident, you pressured her, she was overstimulated and mentally confused, impulsively admitted to being the mastermind herself, then Yuxiang confessed Liu Zhi, making it all seem very natural.” What kind of observational power did it take to manipulate people’s emotions in the palm of one’s hand?
“But Liu Zhi admitted he had Yuxiang kill me—how do you explain that?” She kept saying pregnancy made her stupid, but he saw her sharpness was undiminished.
“Because Yuxiang was a double agent.” Mo Zi saw Yuan Cheng’s eyebrows furrow slightly and realized she’d inadvertently used modern vocabulary again. She hurriedly explained, “That is, on the surface it looked like she worked for Liu Zhi and the Empress Dowager, but actually she truly answered to you.”
Yuan Cheng grasped it. “Double-sided? You’re right again.”
“Liu Zhi is young and easily swayed. When Yuxiang actively proposed killing you, he would definitely agree without thinking. As a result, he willingly became the mastermind, not knowing he was no different from his sister—both scapegoats. Except Liu Bao’er had better luck than him.” Mo Zi sighed again. “Yuan Cheng, you had Yuxiang assassinate you just to kill Liu Zhi. Since you accepted his surrender, you couldn’t easily take his life, but if he didn’t die, he would always be like a thorn to Song’s new government. He had to die, but we couldn’t be the ones to actively provoke trouble, so he had to self-destruct. That’s why there was that scene on the Dragon Boat Festival. He had someone try to kill you, you were injured, public sentiment was inflamed, then you dealt with him according to law—perfectly justified, satisfying to all.”
Yuan Cheng looked at her, his gaze like water. He tacitly acknowledged it.
“Yuxiang’s suicide wasn’t at your direction.” Again in a declarative tone, Mo Zi’s mind was clear and eyes bright. “If she lived, she could further identify Liu Zhi. At the very least, she shouldn’t have died on the boat.”
“Then why did she commit suicide?” Yuan Cheng enjoyed excavating his wife’s clever mind.
“Because she felt she’d wronged Liu Bao’er. Whether as your spy or the Empress Dowager’s spy, she approached Liu Bao’er with ulterior motives, but having been with her for so long, and Liu Bao’er being truly not bad, she developed genuine feelings. Rather than being beheaded amid cursing as an assassin, better to demonstrate her loyalty to Liu Bao’er through death, allowing her to find peace.” Sometimes loyalty didn’t need to be spoken aloud—Mo Zi could see Yuxiang’s sincere heart for Liu Bao’er.
“Dying this way was more heroic than dying on the execution platform.” Yuan Cheng indirectly admitted Yuxiang was destined to die.
Mo Zi took a deep breath and looked up at the starry sky. The moon was bright but couldn’t obscure the stars’ radiance. “How cruel.” Not Yuan Cheng, but the power struggle. She believed Li Yan and Zhang Zhen both knew about this matter.
“Very cruel, yet also our own choice. Either don’t walk this path, or we must walk it to the end and remain safe.” This was the real Yuan Cheng—someone who could never be an upright gentleman. In this entire affair, Yuxiang was the most innocent, but she was a death warrior. From the moment he placed her in the palace, he knew this day would come, so he felt neither sad nor guilty.
Speaking it out made her comfortable. When she was alone with chaotic thoughts, she was truly afraid he wouldn’t tell the truth. Because if he wasn’t forthright, it would very likely mean he had developed greed—greed for power and the throne.
“As long as you haven’t changed.” She rested her head on his uninjured shoulder.
“With you, I won’t change.” He raised the arm of his injured shoulder and gently stroked her hair.
“However, you’re really harsh on yourself.” Though not fatal, that blade had truly penetrated deep.
“Only by truly performing the self-sacrifice stratagem could we have today’s satisfying outcome.” Yuan Cheng had an extremely high tolerance for bodily harm. “Mo Zi, I’ll have to leave again soon. You’re with child, yet I can’t be by your side—I apologize.”
“Where to? To Jin Yin’s place?”
It was fine if Mo Zi didn’t mention Jin Yin, but mentioning him made Yuan Cheng’s face show a cold smile. “Your good second brother calculates quite well.”
When these two had no external conflicts, they would definitely have internal conflicts. After this conversation with Yuan Cheng, Mo Zi’s heart had no more knots, so she asked, “How did he provoke you now?”
“I asked him to come for the Dragon Boat Festival. He agreed, but didn’t show up.” This was Yuan Cheng’s second arrow.
“You asked him to come?” Mo Zi suddenly understood. “You wanted him to save you, expose Liu Zhi, and create popular support for him.” And then, the direction of the throne.
“I suspect he was hiding somewhere watching the excitement.” Yuan Cheng’s dark eyes sparkled like stars. “What should we do, Madam? After Prince Su’s death, my own second brother has become the greatest opponent. Should your husband engage in fraternal strife?”
“Others fight for the throne, but you two are foisting it on each other. Jin Yin originally would have accepted without demur, but now it seems even he’s hesitating. He’s holed up in the north without a peep. After such a long standoff, there have been a few small battles but no major ones—you could almost say life has been comfortable.” Mo Zi shook her head with a smile. “Why not just sign a peace agreement with Daqiu?”
“This emperor—he must take the position whether he wants to or not.” Yuan Cheng gazed at the stars with Mo Zi. “Even blood brothers have no room to discuss this.”
“Actually, Song territories are doing quite well right now without an emperor.” Truly—major matters were discussed by the Three Cabinets and Six Ministries, minor matters were distributed by department according to responsibilities. Like in dealing with Liu Zhi and the others, the Ministry of Justice gathered evidence, the Three Cabinets held joint trials, consulted the Six Ministries, issued city-wide announcements, allowed citizens to raise objections—layer upon layer of checks before reaching the final judgment.
“Dispersed power, mutual checks and balances, listening to the people’s will, putting people first, governing by law rather than putting the ruler first and governing by the ruler’s decree—true governance in the real sense.” Mo Zi thought of modern governmental structures, but after speaking she found it laughable. This was a thousand years ago—proposing democracy was far too early, simply impossible and unsuited to national conditions.
But Yuan Cheng was shaken upon hearing this. “Putting people first, governing by law—without an emperor?”
“I’m talking nonsense.” Mo Zi quickly waved her hands. “In an environment of monarchical rule, the common people are more accustomed to having someone who can lead them to a good life. Not having an emperor won’t work.”
Yuan Cheng thought briefly, then tapped her head. “Saying it’s quite good without an emperor, then saying it won’t work without an emperor—self-contradictory.”
Mo Zi smiled stiffly. “It’s a matter of time.” She missed the Industrial Revolution.
Ming Nian knocked and entered the courtyard. Discovering the two sitting on such a high rock talking, he said, “Madam is with child. Instead of scolding her mischievousness, Sir, you sit together with her?”
“Ming Nian, I’m having private conversation with your master. Why do you always interrupt us?” Mo Zi swung her feet, indeed seeing the youth frown.
“Madam, the way you’re swinging your legs—if the young masters and misses learn this behavior in the future, it will embarrass Sir.” Unseemly.
Mo Zi laughed heartily. This boy was truly her source of joy. Clearly still a youth, yet so old-fashioned, looking like a little old man worried about heaven and earth.
Yuan Cheng felt that listening to these two bicker was always interesting, like living ordinary days, feeling utterly grounded.
“What is it?” But what needed to be asked still had to be asked.
“Master Wei sent an urgent document.” Ming Nian pulled out a letter from his chest.
Yuan Cheng opened and read it, then smiled. “Just as I expected.”
“What?” Mo Zi was curious.
“Jiang Shu has fled.” Yuan Cheng added, “Not just himself—he took his sister and Liu Bao’er with him.”
Mo Zi was first shocked, then pursued the question. “Something you anticipated?”
This was Yuan Cheng’s third arrow. “Empress Jiang is Jiang Shu’s own sister, Liu Bao’er is the last person of the Liu imperial clan. With them, the Jiang family can openly establish a nation. But as long as they do this, Song forces will have reason to attack. Don’t forget—Nande is bone of Song’s bone, blood of Song’s blood, all of Nande’s lands merged into Song. If the Jiang clan wants to split off, that’s rebellion.” None of it was his fault. He killed Liu Zhi because Liu Zhi wanted to kill him. He attacked the two peaceful provinces because the Jiang family had ambitions.
“Moreover, Liu Bao’er now hates you to the bone. If she escapes, she’ll definitely be irreconcilable with Song. If Jiang Shu ultimately becomes husband and wife with her, there won’t be any room for turning back.” Mo Zi couldn’t help but wonder—could even this move have been Yuan Cheng’s doing? “You deliberately let them escape?”
“The world is about to be unified—how could there be reason to divide into small nations again?” Yuan Cheng spoke so lightly.
In the seventh month, when Mo Zi’s belly finally showed, the Jiang family established the Southern Nation. The Song Cabinet announced to the world the treacherous hearts of these rebels, and Yuan Cheng personally led troops to suppress the rebellion.