A man on the verge of death still experiences weariness. In the end, he turned to look at his most beloved son.
This son, who looked exactly like him, was continuing his life—and in the not-too-distant future, would carry forward the prosperity of Great Jin.
He needed to leave his son a source of strength, not a source of harm.
Since Situ Sheng held his grandfather in the highest regard, he had to restore to Yang Xun a measure of honor and innocence—so that Situ Sheng would not harbor lingering resentment in his heart. It would also be a way of leaving his son a worthy and capable minister to rely on.
Thinking this, he could only say to his son with helpless resignation: “General Yang Xun lived a life of glory and honor. He truly should not have been dragged down by that unfilial and disloyal son of his… In the end, We have wronged Yang Xun… As for how to restore the old general’s name and clear his reputation, you shall see to it as you see fit…”
Following His Majesty’s intention, the plan was to posthumously honor Yang Xun and rehabilitate his name.
However, when the Third Prince came bearing a drafted “Imperial Edict of Self-Reproach” and asked him to sign and issue it, the old Emperor was so furious that a clot of phlegm lodged in his throat. His trembling finger pointed at his third son for a long while before he finally managed to cough the phlegm out.
“What is the meaning of this? Do you think that now that you have become Crown Prince, you can act however you please and force Us to do things?”
Seeing his imperial father’s fury, Liu Yi nevertheless maintained a calm and untroubled expression. “Your son dares not. Only, Father Emperor, you said to let me see to it as I saw fit. In your son’s view, this Imperial Edict of Self-Reproach is the most open and upright course of action. For the Son of Heaven to acknowledge his error is not a diminishment of his sagely wisdom—rather, it demonstrates Father Emperor’s deep esteem and regard for old General Yang Xun. As for the position of Crown Prince, that too is Father Emperor’s gracious bestowal. If Father Emperor feels your son is unequal to the burden, your son is willing to yield it to a more worthy person. In your son’s view, the Sixth Brother is humble, respectful, and virtuous—he is actually more suited than your son.”
Liu Yi spoke these words not out of spite, but from the bottom of his heart. His aspirations in life included the recovery of the northern territories and a life of harmonious partnership with Yashu—but sitting upon that lonely throne, reigning supreme over ten thousand, was never among them.
If his imperial father was willing to revoke the decree, he would gladly serve as a worthy minister assisting the Sixth Brother, and would have not a single word of complaint.
He spoke with genuine sincerity, and the Emperor understood well the candid nature of this son of his. He took far too much after his mother—he had never placed any weight on fame, fortune, or official rank.
And yet it was precisely these heartfelt and earnest words that once again sent His Majesty into labored, heaving breaths.
If the Sixth Prince had been fit for the role, how could the former Crown Prince have held that position so securely for so many years?
He had waited so long for a son of outstanding talent who understood the people’s livelihood—how could he possibly permit him to act as he pleased and go live the life of a carefree wanderer?
Admitting the Emperor’s error to all under heaven would indeed give Yang Xun a proper reckoning, and would further quell Situ Sheng’s grievances, leaving him no further pretext to betray his sovereign…
And so the old Emperor, swallowing his irritation, picked up the Imperial Edict of Self-Reproach once more and read through it word by word. The expression on his face shifted several times. In the end, he flung it back at Liu Yi: “The writing is crude! Revise it again, then bring it back for Us to sign!”
And so, after several rounds of back-and-forth between father and son, that earnest and heartfelt Imperial Edict of Self-Reproach was at last proclaimed to all under heaven.
The Son of Heaven personally acknowledged that in the Battle of Negative Waters all those years ago, old General Yang Xun had fought valiantly to the very end. He further denounced the crimes of the former Crown Prince and the deposed Prince Tai for conspiring to frame and harm loyal subjects.
His Majesty himself admitted that the punishment meted out to the Yang Family in those years had been excessive, and stated that the crimes of Yang Xun’s traitorous son Yang Yi were not sufficient to overshadow Yang Xun’s great meritorious deeds.
Therefore, Yang Xun was posthumously honored with the title of Marquis of Loyal Valor, the title to be inherited hereditarily with a food fief of one thousand households, to be inherited by Yang Xun’s own grandson, Situ Sheng.
When this Imperial Edict of Self-Reproach was issued, the entire court was shaken with astonishment.
Many officials who had not been privy to the situation had never imagined that the rumors that had been swirling so turbulently would actually prove true—that Situ Sheng truly was the surviving member of the Yang Family who had slipped through the net when the family was executed!
Even more unimaginable was that His Majesty would bestow such grace and favor upon the Yang Family—not only rehabilitating their name and restoring their honor, but also admitting his own unjust treatment of the Yang Family in those years…
For a time, the assembled ministers were left thoroughly bewildered, unable to make heads or tails of the situation, and even less certain as to what kind of enchanting potion Situ Sheng had fed His Majesty—that after being thrown into the imperial prison, he could come out radiating honor and glory without limit.
Nevertheless, Situ Sheng did enter the palace to personally offer his thanks to His Majesty, while tactfully declining His Majesty’s suggestion that he return to his ancestral roots and change back to the Yang surname.
“The woman who raised me showed me a kindness as great as a mountain. The grace of nurturing is weightier than the grace of birth. My adoptive mother has only me as the son recorded in her family register to carry on the line. If I were to change back to the Yang surname, I would be acting in an unfilial manner toward my adoptive mother. Furthermore, another branch of blood from the Yang Family still survives—the Yang Family’s line of incense and the title of nobility can be inherited by that person in my stead!”
The meaning within these words was a tactful refusal of His Majesty’s bestowal of the title of Marquis upon him, as well as a lack of any desire to wear the name of Yang Family descendant and establish a new household and residence.
This came as yet another surprise to the old Emperor.
He looked at Situ Sheng with some astonishment and asked: “Have you thought this through fully? The other branch of blood left behind by the Yang Family—that is the son of your stepmother! He does not carry the Yang surname now; he carries the surname Tao.”
Situ Sheng remained unmoved, only replying with respectful deference: “A person’s surname is nothing more than a label and a marker. Whatever surname I carry cannot alter the reverence and admiration I hold in my heart for my grandfather.”
If it could be said that the old Emperor’s issuance of the Imperial Edict of Self-Reproach had been compelled by circumstances—a reluctant measure to preserve his reputation as a wise and virtuous ruler—then now, having heard these unexpected words from Situ Sheng, his view of this young minister had undergone a complete and thorough transformation.
This person was truly a man who placed deep importance on loyalty and righteousness—utterly unlike his traitorous father.
The way he treated his adoptive mother alone was evidence enough that he was by no means a man of cold and shallow sentiment.
Situ Sheng’s character and breadth of spirit were worthy of a true man of great integrity.
Thinking that he had once entertained the notion of bestowing death upon this young minister, the Emperor lying upon his sickbed let out several more wheezing, labored coughs, and was compelled to admit that when it came to judging people, he was truly not the equal of his own son, Liu Yi.
One Imperial Edict of Self-Reproach—shamefully admitting the rash error committed in a moment of unbridled fury—yet it had secured for Great Jin a capable and worthy minister. It was worth it!
Thinking this, the old Emperor fell into another fit of violent coughing. Since falling ill, the entanglements of state affairs and family matters, along with the assault of long-buried guilt and remorse, had given him nightmare after nightmare throughout every sleepless night.
At one moment, it was a blood-drenched Yang Xun, cradling a severed head, asking him whether he had treated the Yang Family well. At another, it was his most cherished Consort Fang, weeping tears of blood, asking him why he had favored and doted on that treacherous consort for so many years…
All of this had grievously eroded his health, and amid the medicinal fragrance that permeated every corner of the palace, he knew that his remaining days were few. Only—there were so many people waiting for him below, people he had no face to meet…
He could only hope that Yang Xun had already laid his grievances to rest, and would not come to haunt him again.
When Chu Linlang heard that Situ Sheng had tactfully declined His Majesty’s suggestion to change back to the Yang surname, she was not the least bit surprised.
His Majesty simply did not understand Situ Sheng!
Even if it meant death, he would never become “Yang Jiexing.” However deeply he revered his grandfather, that was how deeply he despised his father Yang Yi!
To change back to the Yang surname—would that not be an indirect acknowledgment that he was Yang Yi’s son?
So that Yang surname—Situ Sheng would refuse it even at the cost of his life!
As for the title of Marquis that His Majesty had bestowed as compensation for past wrongs, in Situ Sheng’s eyes it was a useless gesture at best—better left unreceived!
As things stood, Tao Zan had stumbled into an unexpected windfall—only a pity that his mother, startled as a bird that has once been shot at, had no one knowing where she had taken him.
Saddled with a mother like that, Tao Zan had it quite hard enough. One could only hope that that naive young man would keep his head clear and not let his heart go astray, allowing himself to be used as his mother’s accomplice for her schemes…
While Chu Linlang was still lost in thought, Dongxue by her side held up an embroidered pattern with great excitement and asked: “First Young Miss, do you think this fabric would make a good wedding quilt cover?”
That’s right—at this very moment she was busy together with the maids of the household, making urgent and bustling preparations for her dowry.
Situ Sheng could wait no longer and had already set their wedding date for five days hence. After all, Linlang was already with child, and the months would wait for no one.
Only, this meant that assembling the dowry was somewhat rushed. Fortunately, with enough silver, matters could be arranged—many shops had brought out finished goods, and if one was not too particular, a great many respectable items could be selected.
Additionally, the gifts bestowed by the Empress Dowager in the palace and the Crown Prince Consort Tao Yashu had arrived—a full procession of several large carts of gifts, so fine that even the most particular of eyes could find no fault with them.
Although this was Chu Linlang’s second marriage, many of the rituals and procedures for the wedding were not entirely clear to her.
After all, when she had first entered the Zhou household, apart from a new wedding quilt, they had not even been able to afford ceremonial red candles—she had bought plain white wax candles herself and dyed the outsides red to pass them off as proper red candles.
These preparations for the dowry felt like the very first time setting out as a bride. Whether it was Linlang herself or the maids, everyone was full of excitement and high spirits.
Yet just as Linlang was counting up the number of porcelain cups and bowls, she caught a glimpse of Xia He walking in with a hesitant, words-on-the-tip-of-her-tongue expression.
“What is it?”
Xia He did not particularly want to say, but since Linlang had asked, she could not stay silent, and said quietly: “Master Zhou has led Yuan’er here, knocking at the gate. The doorman didn’t respond and ran in to ask me whether or not he should pass along the news.”
Chu Linlang had never imagined that at this critical juncture, Zhou Sui’an would actually lead Yuan’er all the way to her villa on the outskirts of the capital.
This former husband of hers had by now fallen so low as to handle affairs at a county office on the outskirts of the capital. Word was that due to his poor performance in carrying out his duties, his official rank had been demoted, already down to the Seventh Rank.
Had he come alone, Chu Linlang would absolutely not have seen him. But since he had brought Yuan’er along, Linlang worried it might have something to do with the child. After a moment’s thought, she told Xia He to invite them inside.
It had been a long time since she had seen Zhou Sui’an. This man who had once possessed the refined and smooth complexion of a cultured scholar now looked somewhat haggard and worn. Gone entirely was his former image of an immaculate, elegant young gentleman from head to toe—even the corners of his eyes and the lines on his forehead bore the marks of years of hardship and toil, making him look as though he had aged more than ten years in a single stretch.
With no capable wife at home to manage the burdens of daily life for him, the harsh winds and cold frosts of the world had now brought Zhou Sui’an firmly down to earth with both feet—and the grinding toil of an ordinary and unsophisticated life had robbed him entirely of his former ease and grace.
Linlang did not spare him a glance. She simply smiled and beckoned Yuan’er over, bending down to ask about her studies and recent affairs. Finding nothing amiss, she then turned to look at Zhou Sui’an: “Master Zhou, in the future, if Yuan’er misses me, you need only send a household servant to bring her over. I will arrange for someone to escort her back. You need not come along in person—it would only invite gossip and give people cause to talk.”
Zhou Sui’an had by now grown accustomed to Linlang’s cold demeanor toward him. He gave an awkward smile, then suddenly spoke: “Linlang… I have already separated from Xie Shi by mutual agreement…”
Ah? Chu Linlang was momentarily stunned to hear this.
She had previously gone to the northwest, and upon her return, there had been the Crown Prince’s palace coup, followed by Situ Sheng’s imprisonment in chains.
All of her energy and attention had been consumed by rescuing Situ Sheng, and she had truly had no inclination to follow news of the Zhou household’s changes.
Zhou Sui’an, for his part, was unaware of Linlang’s recent circumstances.
The details surrounding the palace coup and the upheaval involving Situ Sheng were confidential matters known only to the high-ranking ministers of the court.
An idle official such as himself, pushed out to a county office on the capital’s outskirts—how could he know so much! He only knew that sometime in the recent past, some kind of upheaval had occurred in the capital, making the city gates very difficult to pass in and out of.
Even less did he know that Linlang was soon to be married. After finally being free of Xie Shi, he had come rushing over full of excitement with Yuan’er in tow, intending to rekindle their acquaintance and see whether he could set his disordered life back on track and make Chu Linlang have a change of heart.
How desperately he missed the days he had spent together with Chu Linlang.
Linlang first furrowed her brow and listened. In just a few brief words, she had pieced together the whole course of events.
It was likely something along these lines: the visit of that slender-waisted Miss Yin Xuefang had caused Xie Youran to bristle like a hedgehog.
Miss Yin’s methods were something Chu Linlang had experienced firsthand. She was one hundred percent softness and ten thousand percent helplessness.
Yet beneath all that delicate, fragile vulnerability was a blatant, undisguised flirtation with another woman’s husband.
Only Xie Shi was not Chu Linlang, and had none of her ability to turn others’ strength against them. Faced with a charming, uninvited guest arriving suddenly at the household, Xie Shi had flown into a rage—creating a scene, shouting abuse, pointing at the Yin mother and daughter and demanding they get out.
What was the mother-in-law Zhao Shi, who had invited them, to make of that? On top of her existing deep resentment toward Xie Youran for causing the Zhou household to lose two children, everything erupted at once—right in front of the Yin mother and daughter, she gave Xie Youran two hard slaps across the face.
But Xie Youran was someone who could hold her ground even against her own general father. From childhood to adulthood, when had she ever suffered such public humiliation? And to have that petty wretch Yin Shi witness her embarrassment and laugh at her misfortune, no less.
In a fit of extreme rage, Xie Youran actually raised her hand and gave Zhao Shi two slaps right back.
In the end, the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law fell into a brawl that left the onlookers wide-eyed. Zhou Sui’an was so stunned he stood there frozen, momentarily forgetting to step in and separate them.
By the time he came to his senses, Xie Youran had already torn out two locks of Zhao Shi’s hair.
Great Jin had always placed the utmost importance on filial piety. A daughter-in-law striking her mother-in-law in such a manner was conduct that not even a princess marrying down would dare to commit.
The fight between the two women had unfolded in plain sight of all the surrounding neighbors, who had climbed ladders to peer over the walls with perfect clarity. It spread through the neighborhood in an instant, setting the whole street buzzing.
However small Zhou Sui’an’s official position was, he could not suffer his mother being beaten by his own wife. In a fit of anger, he actually reported the matter to the authorities and filed for a forced divorce on the grounds of unacceptable conduct.
Under the laws of Great Jin, if a wife were to be expelled from her husband’s household on the grounds of striking her mother-in-law, it was not only the husband’s family that would cast her out—she would also have to receive a caning at the yamen.
And so Xie Youran’s parents could no longer feign ignorance. They had no choice but to come forward and offer apologies to Zhao Shi in an attempt to mediate.
But whether it was Zhao Shi or Zhou Sui’an himself, both had grown utterly sick of Xie Shi. And Xie Youran had long been revolted to death by Zhou Sui’an—that utterly useless man who could do nothing but attract bees and butterflies!
Xie Youran had even thought of Chu Linlang’s resolute determination when she had demanded a separation by mutual agreement back then. At the time, she had only felt that Chu Linlang was foolish and couldn’t see clearly—but now, at last, she understood that when Chu Linlang had sought that mutual separation, it must have been the liberated relief of crawling out of a cesspit!
With neither party willing to go on, how could anyone persuade them to reconcile? Only—to save Xie Youran from bearing the guilt of striking her mother-in-law and implicating the Xie family’s reputation and honor, the Xie family preferred to accompany Xie Youran’s dowry and let her leave with nothing but what she had brought, in exchange for a mutual separation document.
The moment Zhao Shi heard there was money to be had, she agreed without hesitation, and so the two parted ways, each going their own path.
Having heard Zhou Sui’an’s account through to the end, Chu Linlang could not help but smile bitterly and shake her head.
That former mother-in-law of hers was still as short-sighted as ever! What did a few pieces of dowry amount to? By agreeing to this arrangement, she had sacrificed her son’s entire career and future prospects!
Had Xie Shi been expelled from the household through a forced divorce, the Zhou family would have been the aggrieved party, with an official yamen record as documentation. The Xie family would never have dared to seek private revenge, for fear of damaging Xie Sheng’s official reputation.
But now, with the two parties having separated by mutual agreement—and the Xie family having paid out so much silver in compensation—not to mention that Zhao Shi was the one who had provoked Xie Youran into losing her reason and striking out in the first place. If the Xie family wanted to retaliate, they were completely unconstrained, with no need to heed public opinion at all!
And here was Zhou Sui’an, apparently convinced that all was settled and well, rushing over to seek reconciliation with her.
Chu Linlang was no longer the capable homemaker of the Zhou household. She had no inclination to analyze the political situation for him—only, before Zhou Sui’an could say anything more that would irritate her further, she pointed to the mountain of trunks and boxes piled up in the courtyard and said: “Master Zhou, I am soon to be married. The household is busy with affairs and cannot offer you much hospitality. If you have nothing further, you are welcome to come drink a cup of congratulatory wine when the time comes.”
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