Chapter 194: Welcoming the New Year (Part 1)

In Zong Yao's eyes, Le Wuya had a slyness beneath his clean-cut look, a craftiness under his upright air—truly unfathomable.

Le Wuya let him chew on that.

He had other things to deal with.

Because Jiang He had shown up again in Tongzhou Prefecture.

Jiang He was a diligent courier and got straight to the point as soon as he arrived: "I've come to pick up the replies from the lords."

Le Wuya passed them out one by one: "Here's Little Phoenix's, and here's the Seventh Prince's. ...And this is Xiaoliu's. And here—"

Le Wuya turned around and took a blade down from the wall: "This one's for you."

Jiang He froze for a second: "...My lord?"

"There's a fine blacksmith shop here that recently forged a pair of matching blades. They sent them to me—the craftsmanship is top-notch, and they look great too," Le Wuya said. "Qin Xingyue has one, and I figured you should have the other."

Jiang He wasn't one to refuse, so he took it. With a sharp *shing*, he drew the blade from its sheath, his dark eyes catching the gleam of the steel.

He looked up: "But I have nothing to give you in return, my lord."

Le Wuya smiled: "Watching over him well for me—that'd be a big help."

Jiang He: "Oh."

Those who didn't know Jiang He well, hearing him respond with only a single syllable, would surely think he was just blowing it off.

Only Le Wuya knew that when he'd first spotted Jiang He's talent and made him his personal attendant, Jiang He had just paused for a beat and said "Oh" in response to such an honor.

That was his way of promising.

It meant he would not waver even to the death.

Le Wuya asked: "What's new from the capital?"

Jiang He answered: "The Sixth Prince said someone in court filed a memorial to name a Crown Prince."

Le Wuya raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference, but his heart was racing.

Ever since the Late Crown Prince had passed away, memorials had been submitted year after year, urging the Emperor to name an heir early and secure the foundation of the state.

Previously, a prefect had submitted a report on favorable local weather for farming, and when the Emperor praised him for "caring about agriculture," he took it as encouragement. Rain or shine, wind or snow, he dutifully reported the local weather every single month without fail, even getting several other officials in the know to do the same.

The Emperor found it both funny and annoying, finally writing in response: "Observe it yourself, and don't bother me with this again," putting an end to that peculiar trend of weather bulletins.

If people were so eager to report even the weather, how much more so matters concerning the country's future?

Especially as the year drew to a close, New Year's memorials arrived in the capital one after another, nearly all of them taking the opportunity to raise the question of the succession.

The Dayu dynasty was ruled by Han Chinese, who put a huge emphasis on inheritance and the legitimacy of succession.

The civil officials using the succession issue to wrestle power from the emperor wasn't unique to Dayu.

According to the civil officials' reasoning, the rule had always been: if a legitimate son exists, establish him; if not, establish the eldest.

The Empress had died young, having borne the Emperor only one son—the Late Crown Prince.

Since the Empress and her legitimate son had both passed, the position of Empress and the Eastern Palace had both remained vacant for a long time.

The top-ranked consort in the palace was Imperial Consort Zhuang.

Unfortunately, Imperial Consort Zhuang had lived in the imperial palace as if she were outside it entirely, never concerning herself with palace affairs.

Palace administration was actually managed by Consort Hu, the birth mother of the Fifth Prince.

In previous years, the Emperor had always laughed off these memorials clamoring for him to name an heir, ignoring them.

The fact that Jiang He had brought this up specifically meant the Emperor was evidently planning to address it now.

Le Wuya asked: "So what did the Emperor do?"

Jiang He answered truthfully: "On the anniversary of the Late Crown Prince's death, the Emperor called in all the princes to offer incense for him. The princes went in two by two. The Emperor made a point of having the Fifth Prince and the Sixth Prince stand at the very front."

Le Wuya: "And the two before them?"

"Neither of them came," Jiang He said. "The Second Prince recently ran into a bear while hunting—it bit his horse, and he fell off. Though he managed to kill the bear with a shot, he injured his leg in the fall. The Emperor let him stay in bed and skip it. The Fourth Prince is fond of painting and is currently in the northwest studying painting with a famous master. The Emperor, feeling sorry for his weak health, also told him not to rush back, so he wouldn't hurt himself on the long journey."

Le Wuya smiled to himself: The sly old fox.

With no legitimate son remaining, the Emperor only had the "eldest son" rule left to fall back on.

The Second Prince, Xiang Zhizheng, was illiterate and unrefined; the Fourth Prince, Xiang Zhifei, was frail and sickly—neither was cut out for it.

Among all the princes, the Fifth Prince was the "eldest" who actually fit the bill.

And indeed, the Fifth Prince had been prepped as Crown Prince for a long time.

It was said that a year after the Late Crown Prince died, when the Emperor caught a cold and was stuck in bed, the Fifth Prince even served as regent.

It seemed he was just one step from moving into the Eastern Palace.

But everyone knew the Emperor had always had a soft spot for Imperial Consort Zhuang. Even though he didn't approve of the previous emperor's obsession with alchemy, he had still permitted Imperial Consort Zhuang to convert her residence, Lanfang Yuan, into a Daoist temple called Qingxi Palace.

Back then, when Consort Xi had safely given birth to twins—such an auspicious pair, a sign of good fortune—the Emperor had nevertheless gone ahead and split them up, insisting on giving one to Imperial Consort Zhuang.

Unfortunately, although Xiang Zhijie was exceptionally gifted, he had stuttered since childhood, his speech garbled. Influenced by his adoptive mother, he had been turned into a little Daoist novice who only cared about stargazing.

By all accounts, he had little hope.

However, at some point, his stutter gradually improved, and the several tasks the Emperor had entrusted to him were all done brilliantly.

Not long ago, an astronomy book called *Caressing Light* came out. It pulled together the wisdom of predecessors and combined various celestial observations to greatly benefit farming, and it made the ministers sit up and take notice of the Sixth Prince.

Before the new year, he had been moved to the Ministry of Revenue, overseeing the empire's lands, people, and finances.

And at the ceremony honoring the Late Crown Prince, with the two older princes absent, though it would have been safest to have the princes enter one by one, the Emperor had instead arranged for him to offer incense side by side with the Fifth Prince...

Le Wuya read Xiang Zheng's real intentions in a flash.

It seemed he had taken a liking to Xiaoliu.

However, the prince the Emperor favored and the "eldest" backed by the civil officials were not the same person.

It appeared he intended to use Xiang Zhijie as a pawn to take on the civil official faction.

The old fox—the older he got, the feistier he became.

Le Wuya turned and asked, "Is this a private family ceremony or a public one?"

Jiang He said, "A private one. Only the princes attend."

"Has the order of the incense offering gotten out?"

"People outside know about it. The princes went into the palace to pay their respects half a month ago, but we only knew about the ceremony, not the order they went in. The Sixth Prince never brought it up at home. Before I left the capital, he told me to pass this along to you." Jiang He said.

"Then how did outsiders come to know?"

Jiang He had no head for political scheming, so he just repeated what he'd been told: "I don't know. The Sixth Prince only told me to inform you that, as far as he knows, at least three censors have filed official memorials one after another, asking His Majesty to name the heir soon so the people of the realm can stop worrying."

Le Wuya shook his head, understanding exactly what was going on.

The Fifth Prince, after all, was getting too eager.

Since it was a private ceremony, who else could have leaked the order of the incense offering except the ones who were actually there?

To the other princes, with the Second and Fourth Brothers absent, it made perfect sense for the Fifth and Sixth to pay respects to the Crown Prince first.

Even if the Emperor had something else in mind, that had nothing to do with the younger brothers.

Under Xiang Zheng, the first thing they learned as kids was how to keep their mouths shut.

Only someone who cared too much would keep turning it over in their head, and the more they thought, the more panicked they got.

Still, that's only human nature.

For the sake of that position, he'd been through so much—they said he'd even gritted his teeth and thrown away the people he'd grown up with.

Having once served as Protector and spent time in the palace as a young man, Le Wuya had run into the eunuch Zuo Ruyi a few times.

The first time was near the imperial stables.

He was about the same age as the Fifth Prince—a small, fair-faced kid clutching a blue hand warmer, dressed in eunuch robes, sweating buckets in his hurry.

When he saw Le Wuya, the kid's eyes lit up. He hurried over and bowed politely. "Lord Yue, sorry to bother you."

Being young, he couldn't hide what he was after. He stared straight at Le Wuya's hand warmer: "Could I borrow some charcoal from you, Lord Yue?"

Le Wuya didn't say anything, just tilted his head and looked him over.

Even in a hurry, young Zuo Ruyi kept his manners and explained: "Your servant Zuo Ruyi, attendant to the Fifth Prince. I wouldn't dare bother you, Lord Yue, but the Fifth Prince's hand warmer is almost out of charcoal..."

He pointed to another riding ground, and because he was talking fast, thick puffs of breath came out of his mouth: "The Fifth Prince's riding lesson is about to end. It's freezing out here, and I'm afraid His Highness might catch a chill. If the wind gets him and he gets sick, that would be bad. There's no good charcoal at the stables, and I don't want to choke His Highness with smoke. And the charcoal in the auspicious vats isn't to be touched lightly..."

Le Wuya didn't say anything, just scooped some hot coals out of his hand warmer and handed them over.

Zuo Ruyi's eyes filled with joy. He bowed, happy and respectful.

Le Wuya flicked his sleeves and walked off.

He hadn't even gotten around the corner when he heard the Fifth Prince's voice.

...Zuo Ruyi hadn't lied. His riding lesson really did end "any moment now."

The Fifth Prince's voice was full of worried concern: "Ruyi, where'd you go? I was looking all over for you!"

Zuo Ruyi shoved the hand warmer into his arms. "The warmer went cold, so I went to get you some charcoal."

The Fifth Prince pushed it away. "I just finished riding—I'm hot. Don't want it."

"That won't do." Zuo Ruyi's voice got more urgent. "If you let yourself get cold, what if you freeze and get sick? Her Ladyship would worry, and you'd be miserable too."

Le Wuya knew that right after riding practice, your body really did run hot.

Especially for a strong, healthy young man like the Fifth Prince.

But the Fifth Prince actually listened, and took the warmer obediently: "Fine, fine. I'm holding it now. Don't go wandering off again—you had me worried. Let's go."

...

Le Wuya remembered the kid's face—proper and sensible.

When he died, to everyone else it was just a servant dying.

But to the Fifth Prince, it meant something completely different.

He'd given up Zuo Ruyi, given up so many years of his youth...

If he still couldn't get that position, then why make such a huge sacrifice?

Le Wuya's mind was spinning, but all he said out loud was three words: "Got it."

If the Sixth Prince wanted the dragon throne, the first person he'd have to take down wasn't the Emperor sitting on it, but the Fifth Prince, who thought he was about to get it.

No one was going to give up without a fight.

So the Fifth Prince's counterattack was bound to happen.

Le Wuya glanced at the blade in Jiang He's hand and added, "...The blade was the right call. Keep him safe."

Jiang He didn't understand any of the complicated scheming.

He just nodded and left.

As Jiang He came out, Hua Rong was trimming dead branches in the courtyard.

Jiang He sidled over and tried to make conversation. "You've gotten taller."

Hua Rong had never met anyone who walked so quietly. A cold, ghostly voice suddenly came from behind him, and it scared the hell out of him.

Still jumpy, he said, "Guard Jiang, hello."

Seeing that the conversation was going well, Jiang He felt that all his time with the Sixth Prince had improved his people skills. He was pleased, but his face stayed as calm as still water.

Seeing no one around, he stepped closer to Hua Rong and reached into his robes. "I need to ask you for a favor."

Hua Rong: "...?"

...

On New Year's Eve, Jiang He rode hard and fast to the capital.

And on New Year's night, just before the first bell rang at midnight, Le Wuya stood in his courtyard amid the noise of the streets and the crackle of firecrackers and called out to the crowd, "Happy New Year!"

Then, completely shameless, he held out his hand. "Happy New Year, and may you get rich! Now hand over the red envelopes!"

But to his surprise, the people in the courtyard looked at each other, smiled, and each pulled out a red envelope.

He Qingsong's voice was the loudest, his face beaming with a foolish grin: "May Your Honor rise step by step! Hehe!"

Yang Zheng obediently echoed, "Rise step by step, rise step by step."

Hua Rong's smile spilled from his eyes: "May Your Honor's wishes come true, and all go smoothly!"

Zhong Piaoping said nothing, then walked up to Le Wuya, knelt and kowtowed, stuffed the red envelope into his arms, and in a flash vanished into some obscure corner again.

Even Yuan Zijin, with a scowl, produced a red envelope and shoved it into Le Wuya's arms, grudgingly saying, "Happy New Year."

Even Er Ya, with a red envelope strung around her neck on a red cord, wagging her head and tail, trotted up to Le Wuya and barked twice after Hua Rong's command.

Wen Ren Yue was the last to step forward.

Looking at Le Wuya, who was holding a lapful of red envelopes, looking slightly dazed, he smiled, reached out to brush the hair off his forehead, and placed a large red envelope on top of the pile: "See, mine's the biggest."

Le Wuya was stunned for a moment, then grabbed his wrist: "Who arranged this?"

Wen Ren Yue smiled enigmatically.

"...You?"

Wen Ren Yue's nature wouldn't allow him to take credit, so he looked down and smiled faintly: "...I wish it were me."

...

At the Sixth Prince's mansion, before the Wuyu Hall.

Xiang Zhijie helped Jiang He to his feet, took the letter from him, and asked gently, "Guard Jiang, you've worked hard. Did he... say anything?"

Jiang He thought for a moment and replied, "Prefect Wenren didn't say much; I did most of the talking."

With that, he cheerfully held up the curved knife at his waist.

Xiang Zhijie's lips twitched upward, and he was about to reach out when Jiang He boasted, "This was a gift from Prefect Wenren."

Xiang Zhijie: "..."

He withdrew his hand.

Facing the biting winter wind like a blade, Xiang Zhijie pressed on, "Any other words?"

"Yes." Jiang He answered cautiously, "He said he understood, and told me to keep you safe."

"Didn't he wish you a happy New Year?"

"No, he didn't." Jiang He said matter-of-factly, "It wasn't New Year yet when I went."

Xiang Zhijie: "...Mm, I see. Guard Jiang, you've worked hard; go get some rest."

Jiang He thought, "Didn't he just say that?"

But he quickly figured it out.

The Sixth Prince had been busy lately; repeating himself was to be expected.

Just as he was about to leave, he remembered something and untied a red pouch from the handle of his knife: "Oh, right, this is also from Prefect Wenren."

Xiang Zhijie: "..."

Even the composure he'd trained since childhood failed him: "Why didn't you mention this before?"

Jiang He looked innocent: "It was originally in the letter, but I was afraid the jostling on the road might mix them and tear the paper, so I asked Prefect Wenren for a pouch to keep them separate."

Xiang Zhijie pressed: "Did anyone else get one?"

Jiang He shook his head.

The corner of Xiang Zhijie's mouth lifted slightly, then he quickly suppressed it: "Guard Jiang, thank you for your hard work."

Jiang He sighed.

That's the third time.

He'd have to tell Ru Feng that the Sixth Prince should rest more and not worry so much.

With a heavy heart, Jiang He left. Xiang Zhijie hastily tugged at the red tassel of the pouch, so nervous he nearly tied it in a knot.

He opened his palm and turned it over.

A wooden coin slid quietly into the center of his hand.

A crow holding a sycee in its beak, looking smug, one eye open, stared back at Xiang Zhijie.

Xiang Zhijie opened the letter he hadn't read earlier.

On it, Le Wuya wrote: "Sixth Prince, the capital must be busy lately. With the New Year approaching, I present this yasheng coin to ward off evil. With a crow in hand, bad luck is at its worst; use it to guard your home, and evil spirits shall not approach."

At the end, he added: "I intended to make it hold a copper coin, but a sycee is worth more."

Xiang Zhijie clutched the wooden coin in his hand and couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Nearby, by the moon gate, Jiang He grabbed Ru Feng's sleeve and whispered, "I told you, the Sixth Prince's mood has been unstable lately; maybe something's wrong with his health."

Ru Feng, running and coughing, rolled his eyes at that.

The wind was strong tonight, and a corner of the spring couplet in the front hall had been torn. He was just re-mounting it when Jiang He silently came up beside him, taking the paste bucket with one hand and grabbing his hand with the other, then ran.

Along the way, he nearly choked on the cold wind.

Finally catching his breath, Ru Feng patted his chest and said calmly, "I told you long ago, the Sixth Prince is wild at heart; he just hides it well. You didn't believe me."

Just as he finished speaking, he heard the Sixth Prince's voice with a laugh in it: "Ru Feng!"

Ru Feng immediately composed himself and stepped out from hiding: "Here."

Xiang Zhijie looked out at the night sky lit up with fireworks, a gentle smile still on his lips: "Go to the accounts office and give everyone three months' pay. You and Guard Jiang get half a year's pay."

Ru Feng immediately bowed deeply: "Thank you, Sixth Prince, for your generosity!"

"Also, what did I say earlier?"

Ru Feng, without raising his head, said distinctly, "Don't corrupt Guard Jiang! Sixth Prince, I won't dare do it again!"

Xiang Zhijie: "Go. After getting the reward, bring me a new pillow."

Ru Feng was a bit puzzled: "Sixth Prince, today we're welcoming the new and bidding farewell to the old; all the bedding has been replaced. Do you not like the pattern, or..."

Xiang Zhijie: "No, it's not that. It's just that I took a nap on that pillow at noon."

Xiang Zhijie: "Just a brand-new pillow, nothing else."

Ru Feng: "..."

Sigh, another new habit.