Chapter 335
Chapter 335
The king suffered a great defeat in this border summit. No matter how they embellished or exaggerated it, they could not turn defeat into victory. This time, the king's prestige had truly taken a massive hit. What consequences would follow? How astonishing would his outpouring of fury be, and how many people would die? Only heaven knew.
For the past twenty-odd years, Ning Yuanxian had always been victorious whenever the two kings held their summit at the border. Moreover, since the new king of Wu had only recently ascended the throne, Ning Yuanxian had dismissed him at every turn, mocking him as a downy-cheeked, milk-reeking child, paying him no mind whatsoever. The royal court had long been preparing to celebrate the victory from this summit. Every official had drafted several copies of congratulatory memorials each. In the capital, a festival was always held to celebrate a summit victory, where the queen would distribute porridge to the people and even grant tax exemptions to the most financially troubled prefecture. It was a display of the king sharing his joy with the people, basking in glory and bestowing grace upon all under heaven.
They had prepared for so long to celebrate this victory, yet in the end, the State of Yue had been soundly defeated at the summit! So, how cold and terrifying would the wrath of the utterly humiliated Ning Yuanxian be? It would be an anger beyond imagination.
“If any of you have memorials to present, do so now. If not, this court session is adjourned.”
The court was filled with utter silence. Zhang Chong looked around, but no one seemed intent on presenting a memorial. Finally, he stepped forward, bowed, and spoke.
“Your Highness the Crown Prince, this servant has a memorial to present.”
Everyone quickly looked at Zhang Chong.
*You've got some nerve. Aren't you afraid of death? You just escaped it, so why are you trying to die again? The king will be back soon. What will you do when his sky-high fury descends? Can't you just not stir up trouble?*
The Crown Prince's smile faded as he replied.
“Speak.”
“Su Lin, the nephew of Marquis Zhenyuan, Su Nan, holds the position of Chief Administrator in Zhenyuan City despite having no title or official rank. Since taking this post, his conduct has been poor and his behavior shameless. He has acted tyrannically as he pleased, replacing the city lord three times. The Marquis of Zhenyuan's younger sister has seized thousands of acres of fertile land from the people and shown disregard for human life, yet no one in all of Baiye Prefecture dares to question their crimes. This servant implores you to conduct a thorough investigation into them.”
Everyone was stunned by Zhang Chong's memorial.
*Is such a trivial matter worth bringing up in the royal court? This is the capital's court, not the Tianshi Provincial Office.*
Of course, his memorial was merely a small signal, a little sign that he, Zhang Chong, held a grudge against Su Nan.
The Crown Prince asked.
“Marquis Zhenyuan, is this true?”
Su Nan stumbled forward, bowed respectfully, and said.
“As the saying goes, 'where there's smoke, there's fire.' Even if there is no such thing, now that the matter has been raised, I will investigate it thoroughly.”
“Very well, then investigate. Grand Master Zhang, do you have anything else to report?”
“I do not.”
“If there are no further memorials, court is dismissed.”
The officials withdrew from the court, and this session ended in just half an hour. After everyone left the palace, the once solemn yet vibrant atmosphere vanished without a trace. With chilly expressions, they silently entered their respective sedan chairs.
Looking up at the sky, though the sun was shining brightly high above, it felt as if dark clouds had gathered. With the king's prestige shattered by his defeat at the summit, everyone was keeping their heads down, waiting for this storm to pass. The ways of the world were so treacherous; everyone was suffering. How terrifying would the king's wrath be this time? How many more lives would be lost? With the mentality of 'better you than me,' they could only retract their heads into their shells like turtles.
Even Wang Chengchui, who always seized any opportunity to tear into people, had temporarily ceased his attacks. This Censor-in-Chief usually tore into everyone he met, slandering anyone who displeased him. But today, he kept his head bowed the entire time, acting as if he were watching ants on the great hall's floor.
A great storm and an earthquake were coming, so all the animals had hidden their heads and retreated into their burrows.
* * *
The dark clouds were approaching from the north. The sky, once a cloudless blue for ten thousand li, was gradually shrouded in darkness, and the air grew hotter. Though the dark clouds pressed down on the earth from above, not a single clap of thunder could be heard, yet it looked as if a violent storm could strike at any moment. The longer the clouds held their thunder and lightning, the more earth-shattering the eventual strike would be.
The capital was only about three hundred li from the border between the states of Wu and Yue. Having lost the summit, Ning Yuanxian would return to the capital without a moment's delay. "Without a moment's delay" was no mere figure of speech; it meant they were truly forcing their march day and night. Thousands were exhausted, their legs felt ready to break, and they were dead tired, but no one dared to make a sound. They even muzzled the warhorses. Thousands of people were returning south in this suffocating silence.
One court lady, unable to bear it any longer, staggered and fell, her face becoming a bloody mess as it hit the ground. A warrior beside her silently dragged her away at once. From start to finish, there was not a single scream or cry of pain.
The king's palanquin was like a moving palace. It wasn't pulled by horses like a carriage, as that would cause too much shaking; instead, it was carried by a dozen incredibly strong men. This was because it had to move at a constant, stable pace. A bowl of water was always placed inside the palanquin, and whether going uphill or down, the water in the bowl was not to spill.
Grand Eunuch Lü Zhun had not slept for two days and two nights. He never showed fear on his face, bustling about as usual, but only he knew how terrified he was inside. During this time, every hair on his body stood on end, and he dared not even drink water or eat food. Because eating and drinking could lead to needing the privy or passing gas. When the king was displeased, even a slightly large movement while drinking water or a slightly hurried breath from a person nearby was a crime.
Most importantly, King Ning Yuanxian had not yet unleashed his fury. For two days and nights, he had not spoken a single word, nor uttered a single curse. This was the most terrifying situation of all. When Ning Yuanxian cursed viciously, nothing much happened. But when he was silent, his killing intent soared to the heavens, and anyone who displeased him at such a time would suffer the misfortune of bloodshed.
Ning Yuanxian lay on a long, narrow bed, his eyes slightly open. He, too, had not slept for two days and nights. To think he had lost a summit he had decisively won for over twenty years. Until now, he had always held his head high, portraying the summit as if it were a war between the two nations, even claiming the fate of the country rested on it. Yet, he had lost in both the civil and martial contests.
The war with the Nanguo was entering a tense phase, and this was the time Ning Yuanxian needed a victory most. But instead, he had been fiercely slapped in the face by the young King of Wu from the north, losing all prestige. It was a great humiliation. How old was he? A brat younger than Ning Yuanxian's own son had defeated him in a grand contest. In truth, that was nothing. To think that when the cavalry of the two nations clashed, the State of Yue had been so utterly defeated!
The soldiers who lost the battle were nearly all dead, so they couldn't even be punished. Of course, only about a quarter of Wu's cavalry remained, but when word of this spread, it would be twisted into a story of the Yue elite cavalry being annihilated. And what would result from that? Everyone would think the State of Yue's army was weak, that its cavalry had been miserably defeated. Others might draw a different conclusion from this contest. That the King of Wu was young, like the rising sun, while Ning Yuanxian of Yue was old, like the setting sun, constantly in decline.
“Am I old?”
Ning Yuanxian could no longer bear it and picked up a mirror to look at himself. He really did seem to show signs of age. He didn't look as vigorous as before. Soon, Ning Yuanxian discovered a white hair on his head and was genuinely shocked. Wasn't it normal to have white hair? Although he looked very young, like a man in his thirties, he was actually in his fifties, the same age as Count Xuanwu, Jin Zhuo. He was only a few years younger than Su Nan at most. But the sudden appearance of a white hair infuriated Ning Yuanxian. It was because he had always thought that despite being in his fifties, he still looked like he was in his thirties.
*The old mirror was better after all. The bronze mirror I used before was blurry, so my reflection looked bright and young. But this glass mirror is so bright and clear, it shows every wrinkle and white hair, doesn't it? Shen Lang invented this? Why did that bastard invent such a thing? Is he showing off because he's young? Right. He is young. Just turned twenty.*
The king wanted to smash the mirror in his hand, but he restrained himself, fearing it would make him look weak. He was a vain and pretentious man. Even when angry, he would never show it plainly.
*I do not care that I lost the summit between the two kings at the border. The reason for my fury is that you all have erred.*
Just then, the urgent sound of hooves was heard, and Grand Eunuch Lü Zhun's eyelids twitched violently.
*Are you trying to die? Are you trying to die?*
As expected, upon hearing the urgent hoofbeats, the king's temples throbbed as he unleashed a fierce rage.
“Your Majesty, an urgent report from the Blackwater Terrace!”
It was the Blackwater Terrace again. An intelligence and enforcement agency subordinate only to the king.
“What is it?”
Lü Zhun asked coldly.
“The Noble Consort He of Lang Prefecture has taken her own life.”
A Commander of the Blackwater Terrace said. During the Han Dynasty, the rank of *Guiren* (Noble Consort) was second only to the Empress, but it did not hold the same prestige in later dynasties. In the State of Yue, a woman who received the king's favor but had not been officially invested as a consort was called a Noble Consort. Noble Consort He was He Wanwan.
She was a famous courtesan favored by the king, but she had not shed virgin blood. Furthermore, Li Wenzheng, who had relations with her, could have triggered factional strife between the Crown Prince's and the Third Prince's factions, so the king had immediately killed Li Wenzheng to stamp out the seeds of intense conflict. And he had sent He Wanwan back to her hometown of Lang Prefecture to be placed under house arrest. Not long ago, when Shen Lang was returning to the capital and passed through Lang Prefecture, He Wanwan had deliberately come to the post station to find him, waiting for over an hour to ask if he had written the poem *Shuidiao Getou: When Will the Bright Moon Appear?*
The king's eyebrows shot up as he asked in a furious voice.
“When did this happen?”
“Two days ago. This is Noble Consort He's suicide note.”
“Bring it here!”
A moment later, He Wanwan's handwritten suicide note was in Ning Yuanxian's hands.
Half a month ago, he stopped in Lang Prefecture, so I asked him myself. The portrait of me in Li Wenzheng's home and the handkerchief with the red bloodstain were all his doing. This man twisted my fate and played Your Majesty in the palm of his hand. Your servant's heart for Your Majesty is as clear as the sun and moon. If it were possible, I would wish for Your Majesty to cut open my belly and gaze upon my heart. Your servant seeks to prove her innocence with death.>
The king read He Wanwan's suicide note again and again, his rage building to its peak, like a volcano about to erupt. He felt betrayed—a shameful sense of betrayal.