Upon returning from the horse ranch, Murong Yan went straight to his study. Zuo Canglang stood quietly on guard outside the door. Although he had been enfeebled as Lord Qianyì, few officials from the court came to offer their congratulations. The manor remained quiet, save for the occasional low chirping of birds beneath the eaves.
An attendant brought the evening meal, but Murong Yan did not touch it. Left with no other choice, the servant informed Wang Yunzhao. Wang Yunzhao was also in a difficult position; by now, who in the manor didn't know about the matter regarding Jiang Bilan?
Everyone knew their master was suffering.
Wang Yunzhao prepared a few side dishes and brought them over. After standing outside for a while, he said, "Miss Zuo, His Highness has not yet eaten. Perhaps..."
Zuo Canglang understood his meaning and immediately took the tray. "I will go in and ask him again."
Wang Yunzhao’s expression relaxed. "I am grateful to you, Miss."
This was the advantage of having a female subordinate nearby; no matter how foul Murong Yan’s mood, he was unlikely to fly into a rage at a woman.
Zuo Canglang carried the tray inside. Murong Yan was sitting at his desk, a half-finished painting before him, his brush stilled. Zuo Canglang did not look at the subject of the painting, placing the tray on a low table. "Master, it is late. Please, eat something first."
Murong Yan set down his brush. "Accompany me for a drink."
Zuo Canglang paused slightly. "I do not believe now is the time to drown your sorrows in wine. Allow me to pour you some tea instead." Having said that, she set out the bowls and chopsticks and indeed poured him a cup of tea.
Murong Yan held the cup, watching the tea liquid, which was as clear and crisp as amber. He gave a small laugh. "You... when did you learn to start fussing over me like this?"
Zuo Canglang served him some food. "Just now."
Murong Yan laughed in spite of himself. "Then eat with me. You are quite the bold slave." Zuo Canglang sat down across from him as twilight slowly descended, enveloping the waterside pavilion. Murong Yan took a sip of the hot tea and said, "But you are right. Now is not the time to drown one's sorrows."
By the end of the fourth month, as the matter between the Crown Prince and Jiang Bilan began to cool, news arrived from the Northwest Great Camp. It was reported that the State of Yu had been quietly stockpiling troops, suggesting imminent movement. The King of Yan issued a decree, ordering Wen Qi to accelerate war preparations and commanding Murong Yan to proceed to the Northwest camp. His mission was twofold: to reward the troops and to serve as the Army Overseer.
This promotion caught everyone by surprise. For many years, Murong Yan had never held a single official post in the court. Now that the King of Yan had suddenly dispatched him to the military, the various ministers could not help but speculate in private.
Murong Yan received the royal decree, offered his thanks according to protocol, and rewarded the eunuch who delivered the message.
Once the inner attendant had departed, he turned to Zuo Canglang. "It is as you predicted."
Zuo Canglang looked thoughtful. "The King has ordered Your Highness to reward the troops, but has he allocated any silver or supplies?"
Murong Yan pointed to the decree. "Would you like to read it again?"
Zuo Canglang said, "Without a single coin, Your Highness goes empty-handed. How are you to reward the army? You cannot simply stand before the three services, wave your arms, and settle the matter by praising everyone from top to bottom, can you?" No one was a fool. Was such a decree not an obvious attempt to make him look ridiculous?
If he truly went like that, the army would not be swayed, he would become a laughingstock, and who would ever respect him as an Army Overseer?
Murong Yan said, "My father... has actually guarded against me to such an extent. His order to reward the troops is clearly just an excuse to send me away from the capital of Yan. However, if I can scrape together some military merit, it would provide a legitimate reason to grant me a fiefdom later."
Zuo Canglang understood. She turned to look at him. "Does Master truly intend to head to the Northwest Great Camp just like this?"
Murong Yan looked directly into her eyes, his expression grave. "My going to the Northwest Great Camp is of no use. Father might allow me to follow Wen Qi to gain a bit of merit so he can grant me a territory in the future. But he will never allow me to establish great deeds or achieve anything significant. Do you understand?"
Zuo Canglang remained silent. Murong Yan placed his hands on her shoulders. "For years, the Queen has frequently moved against me, yet she has never been able to kill me. This time, I am leaving the capital for the sparsely populated but war-torn Northwest. To her, this will be a godsend."
Zuo Canglang was somewhat shocked. "If that is the case, why does Master still intend to obey the decree and go to the Northwest?"
Murong Yan applied a slight pressure with his hands. "Because of you. If you keep following me, you will never be more than a guard. Most of Yan's military power is currently in the hands of Marshal Wen. Without his help, no matter how many battles you fight or how much merit you earn, you will never truly enter the ranks of the military."
Zuo Canglang began to understand. "Master means... for me to stay by Marshal Wen's side?" *But I only want to stay by your side...* She opened her mouth slightly, but ultimately swallowed the words. Even if they were together day and night, the distance between them was that of the stars and the mud. To stay by his side... what a decadent wish that was.
Murong Yan said, "This is the choice that will benefit you the most."
His hands covered her shoulders, warming her blood. Zuo Canglang lowered her head and said softly, "This subordinate obeys."
The following day, the King of Yan summoned Murong Yan.
In the study, the King sat high behind his desk while Murong Yan knelt below.
The King’s brow furrowed slightly; he did not like this child. He did not want to see those eyes. They reminded him of the flamboyant wedding robes Consort Rong had worn when she first entered the palace.
Since Consort Rong’s passing, the child’s eyes had never shown him any affection. He loathed the coldness in those eyes. *Damn it, you dare to hate me? I am your father and the Emperor of Yan! You dare to hate me!*
Of course, he would not break into a verbal tirade. He simply cast him into the cold courtyards of the deep palace. *Hate all you want,* he thought, *I can't be bothered to speak of it, but reality will teach you.*
A man without power or ability finds that both love and hate are useless things. Pride and dignity are but cold, ornate jewels—priceless to the high and mighty, but worth nothing to a starving man on the brink of death.
*If there comes a day when you are willing to crawl over, bow your head, and call me Father... well, if that day ever comes...*
But he never saw that day. Murong Yan grew to adulthood.
Occasionally, the King would give him tasks—always inconsequential matters. Murong Yan would perform them, neither exceptionally well nor poorly, but never with a mistake. One year, during a drought, the King ordered him to provide disaster relief, intentionally "forgetting" to allocate funds.
Upon arriving at the site, Murong Yan hosted a banquet for the local gentry who were known for their lack of virtue. He told them, "My father sent me to provide relief; you shall provide the silver." Naturally, the gentry refused, claiming they had no money and no grain!
Murong Yan expressed his understanding and, with soft words and a gentle tone, had them all sign a joint memorial stating that they were indeed of modest means, without a single grain in their granaries, and thus unable to provide relief or funds to dig wells.
As soon as they signed, he sent men to seize their properties.
By the time the gentry finished their day-long banquet and returned home, they were stunned. Naturally, they were unwilling to accept this and went to file a joint complaint. Murong Yan then ordered each of them to write a detailed inventory of their missing items. Once the inventories were written, he produced the memorial.
A crime of deceiving the sovereign: either the memorial was a lie, or the inventory was a lie.
*Your money or your life—choose for yourselves.*
Two years later, using his own private funds calculated against those inventories, he returned what he could. The gentry were all deeply grateful, kowtowing repeatedly and praising the Second Prince’s righteousness.
*This boy...*
Murong Yuan glanced at the person kneeling below. "I have already notified Wen Qi. Although Northern Yu is moving, they may not necessarily dare to deploy troops against Yan. Stay honestly in the camp and follow his arrangements. Do not stir up trouble."
Murong Yan said, "Yes."
Father and son had nothing more to say to each other. After so many years, the rift between them was as wide as an ocean; they could not even manage a single sentence of small talk. Murong Yuan was silent for a long while before saying, "I remember your mother was a native of Huatai."
Murong Yan replied, "This son does not know."
Since Consort Rong’s death, no one had dared mention his mother in his presence. And what could a five-year-old child have known?
Murong Yuan paused. "Huatai is a fine place. Once this matter is concluded, you may go there and see it."
Murong Yan did not even raise his head as he bowed. "This son obeys."
Silence followed—an awkward, heavy silence. There was nothing left to discuss. Murong Yuan said, "Go then. Be careful in all things."
Murong Yan left the Palace of Yan. Without delay, he immediately took Zuo Canglang and departed the city for the Northwest Great Camp. The Queen received the news with perfect timing. She said to the Right Prime Minister, Jiang Sanyi, "Find someone to strike. Do not use our people."
Jiang Sanyi was naturally willing. "The martial arts of Zhou Xin and Feng Ping by that boy's side are quite good. Ordinary people likely won't be able to handle them."
The Queen knew this well. "Find people from the martial world. Make it clean and swift. They must absolutely not be linked to us." Jiang Sanyi nodded, though he seemed somewhat dismissive. "Currently, both inside and outside the palace belong to Your Majesty. You are truly being too cautious."
The Queen sneered. "What, does Lord Jiang truly wish to acknowledge him as a son-in-law?"
Jiang Sanyi quickly laughed it off. "Your Majesty’s words wrong this old official. My loyalty to Your Majesty can be witnessed by Heaven and Earth."
The Queen’s expression softened slightly. "Do not underestimate him. For a motherless child to grow to adulthood in the palace is no easy feat. The King is no fool; what schemes in the palace has he not seen? It is only that he is old and does not wish to speak of many things."
Jiang Sanyi agreed. The Queen thought for a moment, then removed a phoenix hairpin from her hair. "Take this and find Cang Tianqi of the Hidden Sword Villa. Have him take action."
Jiang Sanyi was puzzled, then had a realization—*Your Majesty, you have a connection with Cang Tianqi as well? Truly, your influence reaches the heavens and your charm is boundless!* His surprise was too great to hide, and his eyes betrayed him. The Queen raised her hand and delivered a sharp slap. "Cang Tianqi is my cousin."
Just as Jiang Sanyi exited through the back door, the King of Yan entered. The Queen was slightly startled. "The servants are becoming increasingly lazy, failing to announce the King’s arrival!"
The King smiled and took her hand. "It was I who forbade them from announcing me. I wanted to see what my Queen looks like when I am not around."
The Queen arched an eyebrow, a hint of her youthful, spirited grace visible. "And what does the King see in his consort?" She closed her eyes, tilting her face up slightly. "Your Majesty, have I grown old?"
The King shook his head. "The ink on the paper is like a cloud of smoke, you remain as you were; while frost and snow fill my kerchief, I have become an old man. He felt the urge to kiss those still-vivid red lips, but he was no longer a youth. With palace attendants on both sides, he felt somewhat self-conscious. He could only lead her into the hall. "You? You wouldn't be old even at eighty. I simply like your lively and frank nature. Hmph, it’s a pity Ruo’er’s temperament has taken after yours."
The Queen smiled. As it was time for the meal, she ordered it to be served. The King suddenly spoke again. "I heard that Yan’er has already departed for the Northwest."
The Queen gave an affirmative sound. "Yan’er is most impatient. Such vigorous and resolute action is quite like..." She almost mentioned that woman again. The King gazed into her eyes. "After he marries and starts a family, I intend to grant him a fiefdom. In this life, he shall not return to court without a summons."
The Queen was slightly stunned. Why mention this so suddenly? Had he... ultimately seen through her intentions?
The King gently patted the back of her hand. "He is, after all, my child."
The Queen smiled, projecting an image of perfect maternal kindness. "Your Majesty’s offspring are already few, with only Ruo’er, Yan’er, and Qing’er remaining. If Your Majesty wishes to reward him with a fiefdom and households, I am more than happy. How could I possibly have any objection?"
Murong Yuan nodded, allowing her to serve him as he undressed for a midday nap.
***
