Wei Feng hurried into the palace; the Emperor had summoned him urgently.
He already had a fair idea of what it was about.
Sure enough, once he arrived at the Imperial Study, His Majesty ordered him to investigate Ye Zhao’s background. Furthermore, the Emperor revealed a crucial detail: the fan in Ye Zhao’s hand was the very same folding fan once carried by Lord Tianshu.
The man seated behind the imperial desk wore bright yellow dragon robes, embroidered with lifelike, soaring dragons. He appeared to be in his thirties, with a kind countenance and a peaceful aura, yet he carried an innate air of solemnity and majesty.
The current Emperor of Wei was a benevolent ruler, but also one of exceptional capability. Having ascended the throne in his youth and been guided by several of Wei’s most talented ministers, his abilities were outstanding. He had stabilized the court at a young age and remained diligent in his administration and devoted to his people. Having reigned for nearly thirty years, he was a world apart from the previous emperor, earning him immense praise among the common folk.
Inside the silent study, curls of incense rose from the burner.
"Twenty-five years ago, Lord Tianshu vanished suddenly, and his trail has been cold ever since. I hear this Ye Zhao bears a striking resemblance to him, and Lord Tianshu’s personal effects just happen to be in his hands. It is difficult not to wonder," the Wei Emperor mused. He rested one hand idly on the desk, tapping it gently. His eyelids were lowered, his eyes filled with deep thought. He added, "Tomorrow, bring Ye Zhao into the palace to see me."
"Understood," Wei Feng knelt on one knee, bowing his head to accept the command.
He then heard the Emperor mention, "Also, regarding the attack at the South City Gate last night, continue to pursue those behind it."
With that, the Emperor caught sight of the Head Eunuch approaching from outside. He waved a hand and gave a calm dismissal. "You may go."
As Wei Feng withdrew from the Imperial Study, he happened to cross paths with a man dressed in vermilion official robes. Judging by the man’s stature and the rank of his robes, Wei Feng already had a guess as to his identity.
"Your servant, Ye Yuan, pays his respects to Your Majesty."
The newcomer was indeed Ye Zhao’s father. Being summoned by the Emperor immediately after the morning court session was a first for him in many years.
Normally, he kept his head down in the Ministry of Revenue, maintaining an extremely low profile. However, during this morning’s session, he had felt countless gazes drifting toward him—strange, inexplicable looks. Before he could figure out what was happening, he had been summoned.
"Rise." The Wei Emperor’s gaze appraised this official, who seemed somewhat unfamiliar to him. He smiled and walked over, offering a symbolic hand to help him up. Ye Yuan stood up of his own accord.
It was no joke—given his physical bulk, the Emperor might not have been able to lift him even if he tried.
"Serve tea," the Emperor commanded calmly. The two then sat at a small side table to chat.
Ye Yuan was nervous at first, answering honestly whatever he was asked. They discussed government affairs for a while before the conversation somehow drifted toward family matters.
The Emperor remarked, "I hear Minister Ye has a precious son named Ye Zhao?"
"Ah, yes." Ye Yuan blinked, not understanding why the Emperor would suddenly bring this up.
"I have heard that Minister Ye treasures this son dearly, and that the bond between father and son is excellent. To be honest, my fourth son has been throwing tantrums lately for some reason. I wished to consult Minister Ye on how to properly guide a child."
Translated, His Majesty wanted to ask the legendary doting father for his parenting secrets.
Ye Yuan was stunned for a moment, then realization dawned on him. He thought to himself that this must be why the Emperor had summoned him.
When it came to this topic, Ye Yuan was brimming with anecdotes and experience. At first, the Emperor asked and Ye Yuan answered, but soon it turned into the Emperor simply listening to Ye Yuan talk. After a good while, Ye Yuan failed to notice that the smile on the Emperor’s face had grown somewhat stiff.
The Emperor narrowly managed to steer the conversation back to the intended topic. "I heard from those who saw your son last night that he looks remarkably like Lord Tianshu?"
Ye Yuan paused, recalling the events of the previous night. His tone turned doubtful. "This... your servant has never met Lord Tianshu, so I dare not speak rashly."
However, according to the reports from the Head Eunuch, those who had known Lord Tianshu were all shocked when they saw Ye Zhao last night. It was clear the resemblance was indeed striking.
"Lord Tianshu always carried a folding fan, which led many young noblemen in Wei to imitate him. Does your son do the same?" the Emperor probed nonchalantly.
Ye Yuan thought about his son and realized he did often carry a folding fan. But compared to those who followed the trend religiously, his son’s habit was nothing.
"Not really. The boy just hates the summer heat. He carries the fan to cool himself or swat away mosquitoes—just for convenience."
The Emperor: "..."
That was a truly pragmatic answer, one that made it difficult to continue the conversation.
The Emperor’s expression twitched slightly. He decided to be more direct, feigning curiosity. "Oh? But that fan is exceptionally precious."
Ye Yuan found this strange. How did the Emperor know it was precious if he hadn't seen it?
Without thinking much of it, he casually mentioned something he had remembered the night before. "The child was young and ignorant; he just dug it out from the house. That fan was actually the item he grabbed during his first birthday ritual. At the time, my wife and I didn't know which guest had left it behind, so we put it away intending to return it later. Who would have thought that after all these years, no one ever came looking for it? We eventually forgot about the matter."
He spoke naturally and plainly, but his words sent waves through the Emperor’s mind.
The Emperor couldn't help but ponder the implications. If Ye Yuan was telling the truth, why would Tianshu attend the first birthday banquet of a minor official’s child all those years ago and give away his personal folding fan?
Yes, it was a gift, not an accidental loss. He did not believe Tianshu would simply forget it or lose it out of carelessness; that fan never left his side.
What was the reason behind such a deliberate act?
For a moment, the Emperor couldn't help but consider a certain possibility.
Meanwhile, Ye Yuan noticed the Emperor seemed to be spacing out and felt a bit confused. Not long after, the Emperor dismissed him.
Puzzled, Ye Yuan left the Imperial Study and headed to the Ministry of Revenue to start his shift. To his surprise, as soon as he entered, his direct superior was standing at the entrance waiting for him.
The Minister of Revenue was a scrawny old man in his sixties named Qian. However, those shrewd little eyes of his did more than just track every transaction in the ministry; they monitored every ripple of gossip like a sharp-eyed skinflint.
Minister Qian maintained a "kind and approachable" smile as he stood in the middle of the doorway. "Ah, Minister Ye is back."
Being addressed so formally made Ye Yuan shudder. "...Mi-Minister Qian. His Majesty summoned me, which delayed me a bit. I’ll get to work right away!"
He tried to shuffle past into the building, his heart pounding with anxiety.
Minister Qian’s surname was Qian—meaning "money"—and he truly loved money. But he was a miser who loved guarding the state’s coffers, which was why the Emperor felt safe leaving the nation’s finances in his hands for decades.
Minister Qian chuckled and grabbed Ye Yuan’s arm. "Eh, what’s the rush? Come, let’s have a cup of tea in my office before you get to your duties."
The more he acted like this, the more panicked Ye Yuan became. Looking at the clearly abnormal Minister Qian, Ye Yuan began proactively reporting on his current projects, repeatedly emphasizing that he hadn't been slacking and that the Emperor really had summoned him.
Minister Qian gave dismissive "yes, yes" responses, thinking to himself, *Who wants to hear about work?*
Looking at the trembling Ye Yuan, he smiled outwardly while thinking, *I really couldn't tell. This fat fellow looks honest and simple, never causing trouble, yet he quietly raised such a "great treasure" for so many years without anyone noticing. Impressive!*
In Minister Qian’s mind, the "great treasure"—Ye Zhao—already held immense value.
It was only when Minister Qian also began chatting about his son and that fan that Ye Yuan realized something was fishy. When he asked what was going on, his superior’s expression turned solemn. "Stop pretending."
"?" Ye Yuan wondered, *What am I pretending?*
Then came a sentence that nearly made Ye Yuan’s hair stand on end.
"Your son isn't your biological child, is he?"
It wasn't a question; it was a statement of fact, delivered with the air of someone who already knew everything.
Ye Yuan almost blurted out, *Your son is the one who isn't biological!*
But this was his boss, and he still had to earn a living under him. Ye Yuan narrowly suppressed his rage, forced a stiff smile, and said, "You certainly know how to joke, sir."
The other man countered immediately, "Just look at him. In what way does he resemble you?"
As he spoke, he glanced sideways at Ye Yuan, his meaning unmistakable—as if Ye Yuan were a liar refusing to admit the truth even after being caught.
A vein throbbed on Ye Yuan’s forehead, but he maintained his forced smile. "...Bloodlines are fixed. It has nothing to do with whether we look alike."
Minister Qian, continuing to dance on the edge of Ye Yuan’s fury, asked another stabbing question: "Was he really born to you and Madam Meng?"
Minister Qian asked quite seriously, his tone full of suspicion.
Another vein popped on Ye Yuan’s head. He spoke almost one word at a time: "I watched Ye Zhao grow day by day in my wife’s belly until he was finally born." *How could it be fake?!*
Ye Yuan gritted his teeth, swallowing the rest of his rage. A higher official’s rank could crush a subordinate, but this was meddling in his private family affairs!
Minister Qian finally noticed the fire burning in Ye Yuan’s eyes. He fell silent, then carefully observed Ye Yuan’s expression. He wanted to ask one last time, "Really?"
But seeing Ye Yuan’s state, he realized that asking again might actually result in a physical beating. Minister Qian wisely made a strategic retreat.
After Ye Yuan left, Minister Qian pondered the matter further. He felt that Ye Yuan didn't seem to be lying, which meant Ye Yuan truly believed Ye Zhao was his biological son.
But Madam Meng... that was another story.
Minister Qian suddenly remembered Madam Meng’s reaction when she saw the fan years ago. A flash of inspiration hit him; he felt that perhaps Madam Meng was the only one who knew the real truth!
Based on Ye Yuan’s words, a truly outrageous thought occurred to him.
If Ye Zhao was indeed born of Madam Meng, she was certainly the biological mother—but the father wasn't necessarily the biological father!
Minister Qian felt a surge of intense curiosity and a desire to investigate. He couldn't wait to uncover the truth!
To his frustration, after Ye Yuan left Minister Qian’s office, he ran into another person asking the same question.
Ye Yuan finally exploded. As a doting father, what could be more infuriating than someone doubting his son was his own?
"Your son is the one who isn't biological! He’s my own son, wouldn't I know?! What kind of bullshit are you talking?!"
Ye Yuan gave the man a merciless earful.
Several people in the Ministry of Revenue didn't dare ask further and retreated sheepishly.
Ye Yuan wondered if these people had all taken the wrong medicine. They were talking pure nonsense!
***
Chinese | English | Notes
--- | --- | ---
天枢公子 | Lord Tianshu | A legendary figure; "Tianshu" refers to the star Dubhe.
户部 | Ministry of Revenue | One of the Six Ministries in imperial China.
尚书 | Minister | The head of a government ministry.
抓周 | First Birthday Ritual | A traditional custom where a child picks objects to predict their future career/personality.
羽林卫 | Yulin Guards | Literally "Feather Forest Guards," an elite imperial guard unit.
叶远 | Ye Yuan | Ye Zhao's father.
孟氏 | Madam Meng | Ye Zhao's mother.
钱尚书 | Minister Qian | The head of the Ministry of Revenue.
