The Zhou Dynasty boasted a thriving small commodity economy. To promote commercial taxes and mutual trade, the curfew within the city wards was significantly relaxed, allowing night markets to operate until the third watch—midnight.
Chang’an City housed the largest and tallest bell and drum tower in Great Zhou, which announced the time for the people—morning bells and evening drums, eighteen strikes each hour.
Anyone remaining in the night markets after the third watch would be arrested as thieves.
The melodious sound of drums echoed—a signal for the curfew patrol to begin making arrests.
Emperor Zhou arrived at the doorstep of a mansion precisely on time. The plaque above the gate read:
—Grand Marshal’s Residence.
Two guards stood duty at the entrance. The capable eunuch stepped forward, presented a token, and whispered:
“A distinguished guest has arrived. Open the gate at once.”
Upon seeing the palace token, the two guards hurriedly opened the gate and knelt to welcome the visitor.
Chen Yang, the mighty general of Great Zhou, had rendered meritorious service in annihilating the Southern Turks. The Retired Emperor deliberately withheld significant rewards, leaving it to Emperor Zhou to bestow favors upon him after ascending the throne.
Several months earlier, Chen Yang was appointed Grand Marshal, a rank equal to that of the Grand Commandant and on par with the Three Excellencies. He also commanded the Northern Army of Chang’an, responsible for defending the capital—an honor of the highest order.
“Your subject, Chen Yang, pays respects to Your Majesty!”
Wu Junji shuddered and instantly became alert.
Chen Yang—he didn’t know Chen Yang, but he knew Chen Yang’s nephew, Chen Yu.
In their previous lives, the two were mortal enemies.
The struggle for succession was so brutal that not a single senior official remained in the court over fifteen years, all thanks to Chen Yu.
In another two years, Emperor Zhou would have the Chen family purged. Chen Yang would die, his sister Empress Chen would take her own life, and his nephew Chen Yu would be rescued, lying low for fifteen years before returning to court for revenge.
His goal was to destroy the very foundation of Great Zhou.
From Chen Yu’s perspective, it would be a classic tale of male-oriented wish fulfillment.
Wu Junji reckoned he was likely the villain in that story—the one who couldn’t be killed until the very end.
How had he been brought here?
Did the old man not plan to abandon him after all?
Or did the old man intend to hand him over to the Chen family, only to have him killed justifiably two years later?
Emperor Zhou, thinking the child had been frightened by Chen Yang’s voice, quickly patted and soothed him.
The sovereign and his subject proceeded together to the study.
Emperor Zhou paced back and forth, cradling the child in his arms.
His ability to comfort a child seemed ingrained in his bones, requiring no instruction.
Only when Wu Junji’s breathing gradually steadied did he hand the child over to the capable eunuch to be taken away.
In his previous life, everyone believed Emperor Zhou had the Chen family killed because their achievements overshadowed the sovereign.
But later, Wu Junji realized that although Emperor Zhou was arrogant and petty-minded, he was not the type to resent ministers for their great accomplishments.
He had intended to feign sleep, but as he pretended, he discovered this body simply couldn’t endure it, and he had no choice but to genuinely fall asleep.
Now, only Emperor Zhou and Chen Yang remained in the study.
Emperor Zhou got straight to the point:
“Have your sister enter the palace.”
Chen Yang was taken aback. Deep down, he harbored a sense of blind loyalty; if Emperor Zhou had issued a direct decree, he would have had no room to refuse.
But since the Emperor had come late at night and in private, he seized the opportunity to probe:
“My sister is twenty years old, spoiled and unrestrained in temperament. I fear she might anger Your Majesty.”
Emperor Zhou browsed through the books in his study. A person’s study was an off-limits sanctuary, especially for officials and nobles.
They were particularly cautious with their manuscripts, burning discarded drafts daily.
Emperor Zhou pulled out a copy of the Thousand Character Classic—new, with only slight signs of use, likely prepared for a child’s early education.
“I’ve heard that matchmakers have approached you, dear subject. Why have you not accepted?”
A chord within Chen Yang’s heart was struck.
He smiled bitterly and said, “I dare not delay the young lady of your esteemed family. Taking care of my widowed sister-in-law and raising my late brother’s posthumous child to adulthood are the only wishes I have in this life.”
It wasn’t that Chen Yang didn’t want to marry—he couldn’t, and he didn’t dare.
How could someone touched by the emperor ever marry and have children?
Emperor Zhou sneered twice.
When it came to those in his bed, Emperor Zhou cared not for gender—but he was always the one on top.
If anyone dared to scheme against him, their entire clan would be wiped out!
That little bastard was his shame, and even though this shame was something he had brought upon himself, killing Chen Yang would have been perfectly justified.
But now, perhaps he should let it go.
“Allowing your sister to enter the palace is a favor to your Chen family.”
“You saw that child earlier. I might as well tell you—he is my child.”
Emperor Zhou’s voice was laden with implication: “Chen Yang, do you understand?”
Chen Yang’s heart raced like a stampede of ten thousand horses. That unbelievable suspicion had been confirmed, and his mind went completely blank.
He didn’t know what expression to wear or what words to say to salvage the silence that was rapidly freezing over.
He could never marry in this lifetime—doing so would be like tugging on a tiger’s whiskers.
Without marriage, he would never have children, and this had become a regret in Chen Yang’s heart.
But now, he knew he and the emperor had a child together.
Absurd, yet astonishing.
Cold sweat broke out on his forehead. His mouth opened and closed, and he fell to his knees with a thud.
“I deserve death by a thousand cuts! But I beg Your Majesty to show mercy! Spare the lives of my entire Chen family!”
Emperor Zhou twisted the ring on his thumb. He had no affection for Chen Yang—they despised and resented each other. Originally, he had planned to wait for the right moment, casually come up with a reason to exterminate the Chen family, and ensure no one would ever learn of this secret.
Chen Yang was loyal to his sovereign and loved his country—a talented man. But there were many loyal and patriotic men in the world, and many talented ones too. He was not indispensable.
Such was the heartlessness of an emperor.
Now, his attitude toward Wu Junji had changed, and so had his attitude toward Chen Yang.
He felt that Chen Yang didn’t necessarily have to die.
Using the little one to bind the entire Chen family, making them willing to risk their lives for him—wasn’t that the best strategy?
The young emperor was exceptionally bold, believing there was nothing in the world he couldn’t control, no one he couldn’t command. He even found danger thrilling and intoxicating.
The vague, uncertain thought in his mind was now firmly settled.
“Wu Junji.”
This was the name Emperor Zhou had chosen for the little bastard.
“He will be the future Crown Prince of Great Zhou. I have bestowed such an honor upon your Chen family. From now on, the lives of your Chen family belong to my Wu family.”
In this transaction, Emperor Zhou stood to lose nothing.
The imperial physician had diagnosed him: with medicinal treatment, his secondary sexual characteristics would gradually diminish, and he would become a completely normal man.
All his thorny problems had been resolved, and Emperor Zhou was finally willing to let go of his lingering resentment.
“I will confer upon your sister the title of Imperial Noble Consort, and she will oversee the imperial harem.”
Emperor Zhou ordered someone to bring Wu Junji to him.
This was the benevolent gesture of an emperor seeking to win hearts.
The little one in his arms squirmed and whimpered softly.
Chen Yang’s muscles tensed instantly.
By the faint candlelight, he examined the little face in his arms as carefully and meticulously as he would a strategic defense map.
Delicate and handsome.
He tentatively reached out his hand, and Emperor Zhou did not stop him.
So, he gently touched the small mole at the corner of the child’s eye.
The sense of unreality floating in his heart was completely grounded by the child’s warm vitality. His gaze softened with an almost unbelievable tenderness.
In the same spot, Chen Yang also had a small mole, but after being slashed across the face on the battlefield, once the wound healed, the mole was gone.
Only a quarter of an hour had passed. Chen Yang silently and respectfully sent off His Majesty. As the carriage vanished into the long night, the lingering warmth of that tiny life still seemed to cling to his arm. Reluctantly, he retreated behind the door.
From this moment on, Chen Yang’s life belonged to Wu Junji.