Chapter 29: The Choice

Chapter 29: The Choice

The Imperial Study.

The candlelight was dim and murky, the air in the room heavy and oppressive. Yuan Zun sat alone by the desk, his frame tall and imposing, his demeanor stern and cold.

A "knock, knock" sounded at the door.

Soft and slow.

Yuan Zun's sharp eyes lifted. "Enter."

The person outside stepped in.

It was Grand Minister of the Imperial Guard, Yan Bi.

Yan Bi entered the Imperial Study alone and immediately knelt: "May the Emperor be well."

Yuan Zun waved a hand to signal him to rise, his thin lips parting slightly as he asked, "Did you catch them?"

Yan Bi rose and stood to the side. "No. His Highness the Third Prince has just sent word that he cannot trace the whereabouts of this batch of iron ore."

"Tsk." Yuan Zun flicked his sleeve. "The third one's still a bit green when it comes to real work."

He looked at Yan Bi standing before him and smiled. "The Chief Secretary of Bozhou Prefecture did deserve to die, but the timing was wrong. You can't walk by the river and not get your feet wet. Spread the word—dig up all the dirt on this guy, and make sure you use your own people."

"Yes." Yan Bi acknowledged respectfully, then continued, "Should we still pursue the iron ore?"

"Why wouldn't we? Privately transporting iron ore—I think they're trying to turn the heavens upside down." Yuan Zun narrowed his eyes, his right hand idly stroking the wolf-hair brush on the desk. "I'd like to see which of my precious sons has the balls for this."

Yan Bi quickly bowed his head, not daring to venture a guess.

"The Crown Prince is down in Jiangnan, but he's got long arms." Yuan Zun closed his eyes as if resting, speaking as though idly.

Yan Bi hit his knees with a thud, his voice urgent: "I wouldn't presume to say, Your Majesty."

"You're always so jumpy. There's no one else here—why can't we talk straight?" Yuan Zun pressed his long fingers heavily against his temples, brows furrowed tightly.

Yan Bi remained kneeling in silence.

"There are things I can't figure out, so you need to move faster so I can see the whole picture." Yuan Zun paused, then as if suddenly recalling something, asked, "How's that black bear attack case coming along?"

Yan Bi remained kneeling, cupping his hands toward Yuan Zun and reporting: "The Sixth Prince has proven himself quite capable."

"Oh?" Yuan Zun raised an eyebrow, his tone curling with interest.

"In two days, he broke all five men and three women down to skin and bone—they all confessed." Yan Bi's expression was grave, a hint of unspoken emotion flickering in his eyes.

Yuan Zun let out a light laugh. "The sixth one's got some skills. What did they confess?"

"They were using the trade agreement as cover to scout the terrain along the route through Da Rong. Things had gone pretty smoothly up to that point. They were planning to push past the capital and head further south, but the black bear got sick from the change in climate—stopped eating and drinking, and that's what caused this whole mess. Luckily, Qin Zhonglian, Duke Zhenguo's eldest son, noticed something was off and told Song Xu, the magistrate of Chengzhen Street, to tighten things up. Casualties were minimal."

"The Sixth Prince also got out of them," Yan Bi lowered his voice, "that these were King Rizhu's men from the Xiongnu."

"The old Chanyu's been loyal to our dynasty for years, but there's been constant skirmishing along the northern border lately. His sons have been getting restless for a long time now, and they've got their eyes on Da Rong." Yuan Zun tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, his face an unreadable mask in the dim firelight. "What's the Virtuous King of the Left been up to?"

Yan Bi gave a slight shake of his head. "Not sure."

"The old Chanyu has many sons. For King Rizhu to dare stick his hand into Da Rong over the Virtuous King of the Left—you know what that means?"

Yan Bi got it.

The Xiongnu were at odds with each other—another rift in their ranks.

"Jin Ridun's been a coward his whole life. If one of his hot-headed sons takes over as their new king, Da Rong and the Xiongnu are in for a nasty war."

Yan Bi saw the worry on the emperor's face and tried to reassure him: "The Crown Prince is growing into his role every day. He'll surely be able to share Your Majesty's burdens soon."

A faint, unreadable smile curled at the corner of Yuan Zun's mouth. "The Crown Prince..."

He paused for a moment, then dropped the subject of Yuan Qi. "Get rid of those Xiongnu."

Yan Bi pressed his lips together, picking his words carefully: "They're already dead."

Yuan Zun went still.

After a long moment, he said hoarsely: "Right... she had that same temperament."

He let out a long sigh. "Tell the third one to stay a few more months. He can come back after the new year."

"Yes. And the Iron Commissioner post in Pingshuo is still open..."

"Who do you think's the best fit for it?" Yuan Zun's earlier gloom lifted, and he asked in a louder voice.

An emperor's always suspicious; you can never read his mind.

Yan Bi gave a wry smile. "I'm too dull to guess, Your Majesty."

Yuan Zun had already made up his mind and didn't care whether Yan Bi guessed right.

"Yuan Rui's young and naive, Yuan Shu's rotten at the core, Yuan Wu's not up to the job. I've got seven sons, and only a few are worth a damn."

"So Your Majesty intends to..."

"Come the new year, Yuan Rang will take the post in Pingshuo."

————

Guangyang Hall.

Chen Shuoan was sprawled out on the Sixth Prince's bed reading a storybook.

After washing up, he'd climbed onto Yuan Rang's bed like a little thug, rolling around and having a grand old time.

The servants were used to it by now—no one dared stop Chen Shuoan as he turned the perfectly made bed into something resembling Chen Gangpao's doghouse.

Chen Shuoan flipped through the book, grinning ear to ear.

This was a new haul Zheng Yuanzhi had brought into the palace today.

Ever since he'd enjoyed that afternoon of getting beaten outside the palace, Yuan Rang had brought him back inside, and he hadn't left since.

These past ten days had been rough on him. The books in the Sixth Prince's rooms were all about governing the state and pacifying the realm, or rooting out internal troubles and fending off outside threats—dense and dry, giving him a pounding headache.

Study without thinking and you're lost; don't study and don't think and you're in pure bliss.

Knowledge is dead; as long as one is alive, that's what matters.

Chen Shuoan consoled himself.

The book's contents were exceptionally entertaining, with tales of martial arts adventures, blood feuds and deep hatred, but most of all, romantic entanglements between men and women.

Chen Shuoan watched as the female lead gave the male lead a hard slap across the face, snarling, "You heartless bastard, I, Jiao'er, will never believe you again as long as I live!" He couldn't help but cheer inside—this scumbag who plays with women's hearts, hit him a few more times!

Then Jiao'er immediately threw herself into maid Biyun's arms and started making out with her.

Wait, what?

Chen Shuoan's doe eyes widened in shock, unable to believe what he had just seen.

He felt his brain short-circuit, so he flipped straight to the last page of the book.

There, it clearly stated that the male lead ended up living happily ever after with the guard.

What the hell?!

What the hell, are you writing a damn fairy tale?!

That damn author actually dared to mess with me!

Chen Shuoan sprang up from the bed, wishing he could mail razor blades to the author right then and there.

The cover claimed it was a martial arts story, and opening it to find a romance was tolerable—after all, love is indeed charming—but how could the ending turn out like this?!

How could it be like this?!

Chen Shuoan flashed a death smile.

I'm giving this a bad review.

The door swung open out of nowhere.

Yuan Rang came in with his hair still wet, and upon seeing a pale, jade-white foot sticking out from the bed curtains, he frowned.

He let out a low cough, and the servants in the room filed out.

Chen Shuoan was mentally tearing into the author when a warmth crept around his ankle.

Someone grabbed his ankle.