“I drive my chariot forth,
To the pasture lands.
From the Son of Heaven’s court,
I am sent to these lands.
Summoning the servants,
Telling them to load.
The king’s affairs are fraught with peril,
Urgent and demanding.”
In the elegantly furnished study, Shen Yazhi sat at the desk, writing. The wolf-hair brush left smooth, flowing strokes on the rice paper.
The crabapple tree swayed, casting dappled shadows that trembled beneath her brush tip.
The room was silent. As she wrote, two teardrops suddenly fell.
…………
Outskirts of the capital.
Troops assembled.
The cold gleam of swords and spears dispelled the sweltering heat of June.
The Emperor led his ministers to bid farewell to Prince Rui as he led the army on the expedition.
Yun Canglan, clad in battle armor, led the troops with composure:
“Father Emperor, rest assured. Your son vows to defend the territory of Da Yu with his life and will surely drive out the Northern Qiang.”
The Emperor’s eyelids twitched. His amateurish tendencies as a ruler resurfaced, and he desperately wanted to say:
Son, don’t be foolish. If the situation turns dire, flee quickly. Keep your life and return. Our family can escape together.
But with all the civil and military officials standing behind him, the Emperor could only suppress his emotions and say:
“We await your victorious return!”
Yun Chaorong had also come. A veil hat concealed her expression, leaving only her gentle voice:
“Take care on your journey, Imperial Brother. Do not worry about us.”
Yun Canglan bowed once more to bid farewell to the Emperor.
The Emperor, his eyes reddened, waved his hand.
Yun Canglan mounted his horse and raised his long sword:
“All soldiers, heed the command! We depart at once. Slay the Northern Qiang, protect our Da Yu!”
“Slay the Northern Qiang, protect our Da Yu!”
“Slay the Northern Qiang, protect our Da Yu!”
………
The vast procession set off.
Only when Yun Canglan’s figure had shrunk to a distant speck did the Emperor lead his ministers back to the palace.
Besides the officials, commoners had also come to see them off today.
The Emperor had decreed that all citizens of Da Yu could come to bid farewell, to bolster morale.
Near the city gate, an inconspicuous carriage stood.
Inside the carriage, a man sat with his head tilted slightly. His nose was high-bridged, and his jawline was sharp and defined. Though his features were aggressive, his pale complexion softened them considerably.
Su Jingyuan lifted the carriage curtain and gazed toward the farewell crowd. In an instant, his eyes captured Yun Chaorong.
She wore a pale yellow dress, her veil hat matching the same hue. A bright silk ribbon adorned her waist, its trailing ends fluttering in the wind. Though the veil concealed her face, it could not hide her graceful and elegant bearing.
“Princess Rongyang.”
He watched that figure, the four words rolling repeatedly between his lips, evoking an indescribable feeling.
Some time ago, Imperial Physician Li had brought him two century-old lingzhi mushrooms ground into powder for medicine, saying only that they were a gift from a noble in the palace.
And yesterday, a servant from Prince Rui’s residence had delivered a piece of warm jade and a set of ivory-white silk brocade round-collared robes.
The warm jade was carved into a deer pattern, delicate, smooth, and warm to the touch—a rare treasure.
Prince Rui, ambitious and preoccupied with the distant expedition, would not send items like robes and small jades, even to win people over.
These seemed more like gifts a woman would give.
Though the identity was not specified, he already had a guess in his heart.
Yet he still did not understand: why would she take an interest in him?
In his frail and sickly state, he could hardly believe that just because the princess had casually praised him as “handsome,” she would fancy him.
In the distance, Yun Chaorong entered her carriage, the last corner of her skirt disappearing from sight.
Su Jingyuan lowered the curtain and ordered, “Si Shu, return to the residence.”
“Yes, Young Master,” replied the youth named Si Shu, turning the horse around.
Si Shu led the horse with utmost care, fearing any mishap.
Last time, the horse went out of control, nearly causing an accident for the young master. The Duke directly had the previous groom executed, saying he couldn’t even handle such a simple task.
He was assigned by the young master to take over this duty, so he must learn from the lesson and take good care of things.
As soon as Su Jingyuan returned to the Duke of Yu’s residence, he saw the steward waiting at the gate.
“Second Young Master, the Old Madam and the Duke wish to see you. Please go to the Old Madam’s courtyard.”
The old Duke of Yu had already passed away, and the current titleholder was Su Jingyuan’s eldest brother, Su Mingyuan.
Duke Su Mingyuan was only engaged and not yet married, so the household had always been managed by the old Duke’s widow, Old Madam Su.
Without asking what the matter was, Su Jingyuan turned and headed toward the Old Madam’s courtyard.
His gaze was sharp.
It seemed his mother and eldest brother could no longer hold back.
Previously, he had been feigning illness and avoiding people. Today, as soon as he left his courtyard, these two couldn’t wait to confront him.
Sure enough, as soon as Su Jingyuan entered the front hall, he saw Su Mingyuan and the Old Madam sitting upright at the head, as if preparing for an interrogation.
“Jingyuan, where did you go today?” the Old Madam asked slowly.
Su Jingyuan coughed twice. “I went to the outskirts of the capital to see off the army.”
The Old Madam frowned. “Your health is already weak. Why go outside and expose yourself to the wind? Don’t push yourself until you’re bedridden again.”
Su Jingyuan offered no rebuttal. “Mother is right.”
“Jingyuan, what is your relationship with Prince Rui?” Su Mingyuan scrutinized Su Jingyuan’s expression.
“There is no relationship.”
“Speak properly!”
Su Jingyuan looked up, seemingly puzzled, at Su Mingyuan’s square-jawed face. “How would you like me to answer, Elder Brother?”
Su Mingyuan couldn’t hold back. “If there’s no relationship, why did he send you to his residence to recuperate? After resting for several days, why did he even arrange for an imperial physician to care for you like this?”
The glory of their Duke of Yu’s residence had faded, and it was steadily declining. They couldn’t even catch Prince Rui’s attention.
Yet, when Su Jingyuan was injured, he received Prince Rui’s care. Even after returning to the Duke of Yu’s residence, Imperial Physician Li continued to come and check his pulse.
Imperial Physician Li! That was a veteran imperial physician who had served in the palace for years. When the Old Madam fell ill before, they couldn’t even get him to come. Now, he frequently appeared in the residence to check the pulse of this sickly one.
“Elder Brother, you’ll have to ask Prince Rui about that. Perhaps Prince Rui took a liking to me and offered some care.”
“You—”
Su Mingyuan was infuriated. Did he have the standing to speak with Prince Rui? Moreover, Prince Rui had already led the troops on the campaign.
The Old Madam took a sip of tea. “Jingyuan, how has your health been lately?”
“Thanks to the imperial physician’s care, it has improved slightly.”
“Are you still taking the medicine we prescribed for you before?”
“Imperial Physician Li said that to avoid conflicting medicinal properties, it’s best to only take the medicine he prescribed.”
The Old Madam narrowed her eyes, her smile not reaching them. “Good, then listen to the imperial physician. Lately, you should go out less and focus on recuperating your health as soon as possible.”
“Mother, I’m feeling a bit tired. I’ll go back and rest now.” Su Jingyuan’s face grew even paler.
“Go ahead.”
Only after Su Jingyuan left the courtyard did the superficial smile in the Old Madam’s eyes completely vanish.
“Mother, is what Second Brother said true?” Su Mingyuan pondered Su Jingyuan’s earlier tone.
The Old Madam snorted lightly through her nose. “That little bastard has grown cunning. Don’t let him fool you.
What does it matter whether it’s true or false?
Now that Prince Rui is gone, no one can protect him. He’s just a sickly person anyway. When Prince Rui returns, do you think he’ll really investigate anything?”
Su Mingyuan asked, “What do you mean, Mother?”
The old lady’s face flashed with a moment of malice. “I had intended to let him live a few more years, but who knew he would try to climb up to Prince Rui? Hmph, let’s see if he even lives that long!”
Meanwhile, Su Jingyuan returned to his own courtyard.
Compared to the old lady’s courtyard, his residence was cold and desolate.
No one tended to the flowers and plants in the courtyard, and weeds that had not been removed grew wildly in the corners during spring and summer.
A coarse maid lazily swept the floor at the entrance. As soon as she saw Su Jingyuan return, her eyes followed him intently.
Not just her—the other servants in the courtyard also closely observed Su Jingyuan’s every move.
Su Jingyuan acted as if he noticed nothing and walked straight into his room.
Once inside, his expression remained calm, and he did not spare another glance at the servants outside.
“After all these years, they’re still playing the same tricks.”
His mother and eldest brother’s reactions were exactly as he had expected.
Fearing that he might establish a connection with Prince Rui, they would surely act hastily.
Su Jingyuan sneered coldly.
Since childhood, his mother had disliked him. His father was bedridden, and no one in the household cared for him. Even some of the servants did not regard him with respect.
He had once devoted himself wholeheartedly, hoping to share the burdens of his parents and eldest brother.
His mother valued literary talent.
So he studied diligently, reading day and night.
His eldest brother enjoyed martial arts and weapons.
So he also practiced martial arts and swordsmanship.
Through bitter cold and scorching heat, he never slacked off for a single day.
He believed that as long as he grew up and excelled, they would finally see him.
Until the year he turned thirteen, when he passed the imperial examination at the county level, thinking his mother would finally look at him differently.
He joyfully reported the news to his mother, only to clearly see the disdain in her eyes turn into even stronger disgust.
Before his father could celebrate his achievement, he passed away due to illness.
With his father’s body still warm, his mother and eldest brother stood by the sickbed, angrily scolding him:
“You’re nothing but a jinx! Whenever something good happens to you, it disrupts the fortune of the Duke’s household. Your father was cursed to death by you!”
His eldest brother used all his strength to whip him twenty times.
His clothes were torn, and his flesh was lacerated.
Dressed in bloodstained clothes, he was dragged to kneel in the ancestral hall, confessing his sins to the ancestors.
The weather was bitterly cold.
He knelt alone in the icy ancestral hall, surrounded by faint candlelight, from dawn to dusk, from sunset to sunrise.
The ancestral tablets stood high on the altar.
In his despair, he asked those lifeless tablets whether he was truly a descendant of the Su family.
In the silent, cold night, neither man nor ghost could answer him.
To this day, he still remembered that bone-chilling cold.
From his skin, to his marrow, to his heart.
Three days later, he was allowed to leave the ancestral hall, only to fall gravely ill immediately afterward.
From then on, he drank medicinal decoctions daily, but his health never fully recovered.
As the imperial examinations approached, he was so ill he could not even get out of bed.
One day, when he was critically ill and teetering on the brink of death, the physician had already advised them to prepare for his funeral.
He overheard the hushed conversation between the mother and son:
Su Mingyuan: “He’s only been drinking this medicine for less than a year. If he dies so soon, won’t it raise suspicion?”
His mother’s voice came coldly from the doorway:
“Such a bastard—the sooner he dies, the sooner we can have peace.”
His muddled mind was suddenly jolted awake by these words, his heart feeling as if pierced by a thousand needles.
The truths he had once been unwilling to believe were now laid bare before him, bloody and undeniable.
Fortunately, he survived.
After his severe illness, he finally understood many things.
He had once longed for his mother’s affection and had tried to keep up with his eldest brother’s footsteps.
But what his mother and eldest brother wanted was his life.
From then on, every step he took was paved with his own blood.
His mother and eldest brother’s methods were too crude—he could do better, more discreetly.
According to his plan, everything should be settled before next spring…
“Young master, it’s time for your medicine,” the servant Siji said as he entered, carrying a bowl of medicinal broth.
The broth was dark red in color and didn’t smell bitter—instead, it carried a slightly sweet and sour aroma.
Su Jingyuan had been drinking the medicinal broth for some time now and, with some rest, had indeed recovered somewhat.
Unfortunately, starting tomorrow, he could no longer drink this medicine.
His reflection blurred faintly on the surface of the broth, and a fleeting, unrelated thought crossed his mind:
If she knew he was ill again, how would she react?
Su Jingyuan picked up the bowl and drank it all in one go, then said, “I need to go out.”
“Yes, young master.”
Siji replied but did not step back to prepare. Instead, he rummaged in his robe and pulled out a mask—
a mask identical to Su Jingyuan’s face!
Siji skillfully applied the mask, transforming into “Su Jingyuan,” then removed his outer garments, leaving only his white inner robe. He walked to the bed, lifted the covers, and lay down.
At the same time, Su Jingyuan also produced a mask bearing Siji’s features from somewhere and placed it over his own face.
He changed into the clothes Siji had removed, pushed the tightly shut window open just a crack, then calmly picked up the empty medicine bowl and walked toward the door.
A servant on duty in the courtyard peeked through the crack in the window and saw “Su Jingyuan” lying weakly in bed.
“What a sickly weakling,” he muttered under his breath. “A gust of wind could knock him over. Who knows how many days he has left.”
Meanwhile, “Siji,” carrying the medicine bowl, had already walked far out of the courtyard.