Chapter 333 Death of Wu Wei

Chapter 333: The Death of Wu Wei

After the New Year's Day banquet, Wu Wei had once raised the matter of retiring to his hometown. At the time, the Emperor had urged him to stay on a bit longer, as a courtesy to an old minister. When Wu Wei brought it up again later, the Emperor directly approved it.

Wu Qianzhang had been hauled before the Grand Court once for accepting bribes. Even though Wu Wei later swallowed his pride to spring him, he'd never be promoted again in his lifetime.

The Wu family mansion was shuttered, and the womenfolk had already returned to their hometown ahead of time. The Wu ancestral home still stood, and many clan members remained.

As the premier noble clan of the north, the Heqi Wu family, even if fallen on hard times, still commanded respect in the north. Their wealth, land, and learning were all still intact. Once this storm blew over, they could rise again—that was the bedrock of a great clan.

"Move out." Wu Wei sat in the carriage and drew the curtain closed. A once-mighty minister who had basked in imperial favor was now just an ordinary old man heading home.

Once the five Wu carriages cleared the city gates, they picked up speed noticeably. The driver of Wu Wei's carriage also had a sharper look in his eyes.

On top of that, Wu Wei had six second-rank masters around him, any one of them a force to be reckoned with in the martial world.

Between Meng Wan and Song Tingzhou's households, they had only one second-rank master—Chi Yu—and Xue Sheng had only just scraped into the second-rank ranks over the years. Yet Wu Wei had managed to round up six of them at once.

Too bad... when they turned onto a secluded path, a lithe figure was already waiting up ahead, flanked by six masked men and women.

The gap between a first-rank and second-rank master was like the distance between heaven and earth. Ge Quan had only gotten stronger over the years, now among the cream of the first-rank. And this woman before them was probably just as formidable, especially with six second-rank masters at her back.

In less time than it takes to burn a stick of incense, the female assassin's soft sword had silenced all six of Wu Wei's second-rank masters. The blood didn't spray far—it just ran down their bodies, quickly soaking the tender green grass red.

Wu Wei lifted the carriage curtain, his expression remarkably calm.

"Would you mind telling me who your master is, so I can die knowing?"

The female assassin waited until her people had finished off the last man, then walked up to Wu Wei herself, sword in hand, with no intention of saying a word.

But as she got closer, Wu Wei spotted the dragon pattern etched into her sword's hilt.

Wu Wei's hand on the curtain started shaking, his pupils shrank, and his face went ashen. He gave a bitter laugh. "Your Majesty, oh Your Majesty! I've served you faithfully for decades, and you won't even spare this old life of mine?"

Too bad no one was around to hear his dying lament. The female assassin, cold as a statue, drove her sword straight into his throat. Only after she'd confirmed he was dead did she pull her blade back.

Someone hauled the trussed-up Guo Qixiu out of one of the carriages. "Sir, we found him—he was in the last carriage."

"Bring him back to report to His Majesty."

Guo Qixiu's origins were a mystery—he was nowhere near as simple as that Tang merchant's childhood friend. Because his name wasn't Guo Qixiu at all, but rather...

"Wen... Chengyu?!"

"Impossible! How could it be!"

The Emperor stared at the unconscious man before him, shockwaves crashing through his chest.

Wen Chengyu had died decades ago. He'd watched with his own eyes as the man was buried in Prince's Valley. And even if he hadn't died, he was more than ten years older than the Emperor—how could he look this young?

Could he be his descendant?

The Emperor paced around Guo Qixiu. "Zheng Rui, strip the man on the ground and check his waist for a long knife scar."

"As you command, Your Majesty."

Zheng Rui handed his horsetail whisk to a young eunuch nearby and crouched down to rip at Guo Qixiu's clothes himself. He was surprisingly strong, and in just a few tugs, he'd torn open the clothes around the unconscious man's waist.

There it was—an old scar!

The Emperor's eyes nearly bulged out of his head, blood vessels flooding his eyeballs in an instant. "Impossible! Zheng Rui, fetch the National Preceptor!"

A Daoist with hair half black, half white had been waiting for a while. He didn't have the kindly, immortal look of a typical Daoist priest. Instead, his brow bones jutted out high, his eye sockets were sunken, and a pronounced hump on his nose bridge gave him a sinister air.

As he entered the hall with a child in tow, the young Daoist at his side instinctively glanced at the floor. His eyes flickered with something when he saw Guo Qixiu's unconscious face—and Zheng Rui caught it.

"Little immortal master, do you know that man?"

Zheng Rui's words drew the Emperor's attention too. Those eyes, wrinkled with age but still carrying the intimidating authority of a ruler, fixed on the young Daoist. The flustered young Daoist instinctively shrank behind the National Preceptor.

"Your Majesty, who is this man?" The Daoist spoke up just in time, blocking the Emperor's view.

The Emperor pulled back his commanding stare and turned his mind to more pressing matters. But for a naturally suspicious ruler, that little moment was enough to link the young Daoist to the man who might be his eldest imperial brother.

He shot a subtle glance at his trusted eunuch Zheng Rui, who understood at once. As Zheng Rui left the hall, he walked slowly, faintly catching the Emperor's skeptical voice and the Daoist's respectful replies from inside.

"How can an ordinary man come back from the dead?"

"To answer Your Majesty, the dead cannot return to life. But if one wants to fake death, there are many ways."

"Oh?"

"On Penglai there are immortal pills, wrapped in purple-and-gold splendor. If an ordinary person takes them, they may extend their years. If this man is truly an old acquaintance of Your Majesty, he may have taken some miraculous elixir."

"Extend years? How does that compare to the Red Cloud Pill you make?"

"The 'Red Cloud Pill' I make is based on the pill Your Majesty gave me. Its effects are mild and good for long-term use. It can only clear ailments and impurities—it can't extend life."

"You're too modest, Daoist Chi You."

That last line showed just how much the Emperor valued and trusted the National Preceptor.

Zheng Rui thought: Prince Lian has found himself a capable man. The Emperor's complexion has really improved lately, and he seems much more spirited. A body weighed down by chronic illness suddenly feeling light again—that's a temptation no one on death's door can resist.

Of course, his timing in entering the palace was even better. If His Majesty had been even a few years younger, he wouldn't have bought this Daoist's nonsense.

At this point, Prince Lian was just one step away from ascending the throne with full justification.

Too bad his opponent was the even more formidable Crown Prince.

The chief eunuch of the Seal Office came over and exchanged glances with Zheng Rui.

"Eunuch Zheng, what brings you out here with time to spare?"

Zheng Rui smiled. "The National Preceptor is in the hall, so His Majesty doesn't need attendants right now. This old servant is past his prime—not like Eunuch Li, who's still in his prime."

"Eunuch Zheng jests. His Majesty can't do without you by his side."

In truth, Eunuch Li was also over forty, but the senior eunuchs of the palace all kept a youthful look, and Eunuch Li did indeed look spry.

Zheng Rui said casually, "I hear Eunuch Li's adoptive relative is now living out her years in Lingnan? And she's become some kind of academy instructor? How wonderful. I wonder if we'll ever get the chance to leave the palace and see the world ourselves."

Eunuch Li smiled modestly. "She worked hard most of her life. Let her do as she pleases. In another two years, I'll still bring her to Shengjing to care for her in her old age."

Zheng Rui nodded approvingly. "Good. You're a filial one."

The two traded idle pleasantries, seemingly saying nothing while implying everything.

And so, news from the palace quietly reached the ears of Song Tingzhou, who was at home in self-reflection.

The physician personally handed the prescription to Song Tingzhou, "Sir, have your husband take this, and it'll cure him in no time."

"Thank you for your trouble."

Song Tingzhou paid the consultation fee and personally walked the physician to the door, expressing his gratitude.

Yu Geer, back from his first banquet, stepped down from the carriage and greeted Song Tingzhou, who hadn't gone inside yet, with a forced smile, "Cousin, how are you?"

Song Tingzhou, worried about Meng Wan, didn't bother with his childish antics and just gave a faint "Mm" before hurrying off.

To keep Yu Geer from causing trouble, Huang Ye had personally gone along with two pages. When he entered the gatehouse and heard Gui Cheng mention Meng Wan's illness, he quickly left Yu Geer behind and rushed over to check on Meng Wan.

Yu Geer pouted, fighting back tears, but once he reached the back courtyard, he couldn't hold it in and sobbed loudly. Unfortunately, Chang Jinhua wasn't around either—everyone in the back courtyard had gone to the main courtyard to visit Meng Wan.

"Yu Geer, what's wrong? Did someone hit you or yell at you?" Aunt Chang, still sore about Meng Wan withholding her monthly allowance and other annoyances, had been holed up on the kang all day.

Yu Geer couldn't help but cry to his mother, "It's worse than getting hit or yelled at! Those people made snide remarks at me, and I... I couldn't even follow along!"

Yu Geer cried his heart out. When he first arrived at the banquet, everyone had shown him some respect upon learning he was a young relative of the Song family. But those noble young masters and ladies played the qin and recited poetry, speaking with such elegance, while he couldn't even read basic characters—sticking out like a sore thumb among them.

Moreover, they had strict rules for how to sit, stand, and move. Whatever he did at the banquet drew stares and whispers, and those glances were more painful than a knife wound.

"Since they didn't hit or scold you, what's there to worry about? You're the one who insisted on coming. If you can't handle a little bit of embarrassment, how could those boys you hung out with back home marry into the capital?" Aunt Chang couldn't understand. What's the big deal about people looking at you? When you go to be sized up for marriage, isn't that exactly what those ladies do—look you over?

"Then... then I'll go again later." Yu Geer couldn't articulate it. He didn't want to go back, but he'd be too disappointed to go home like this.

Aunt Chang grew anxious, "Wait for what? I'm heading home in a few days! Are we really going to leave your dad and brother alone?"

Yu Geer didn't quite understand adult matters and wiped his tears with his new silk handkerchief, saying, "Didn't the county magistrate say he wouldn't arrest them? What's going on?"

"What do you know! It's just that they're not being arrested yet." Aunt Chang got off the kang, opened the cabinet, and took out a letter from a bundle in the corner. It was the letter the county magistrate had asked her to deliver to Song Tingzhou. But with such a weighty matter, how could she dare hand it over the moment she arrived? She was hoping to get some perks out of it before handing over the letter.

Now she breathed a sigh of relief, glad she hadn't given it to Da Lang right away. Otherwise, based on what his wife said, wouldn't both men in the family end up beheaded?

The County Magistrate was still waiting for a reply from the capital, so for now she could only delay things. But how long could she keep that up?

Should she ask Da Lang?

No—what if, as his wife had said, he actually had his uncle and cousin executed?

Aunt Chang thought of Song Tingzhou's cold, unapproachable face and felt a knot in her stomach.

Yu Geer calmed down after a moment, washed his face again, and said, "Mother, it seems Sister-in-law is ill. Everyone's in the main courtyard. Let's go check on him too."

"With that many people already there, why do we need to go? It's just a cold, and they're making such a fuss." Aunt Chang was still inwardly complaining about Meng Wan putting on airs before an elder like her, and that her nephew Song Tingzhou wasn't close to their family anyway.

Yu Geer still felt it wasn't right. He stood up and straightened his clothes, "We've been eating and living at Auntie's place with Sister-in-law footing the bill. It wouldn't be right not to visit him when he's sick, would it? Let's go, Mother."

He dragged Aunt Chang to the front courtyard, but halfway there, Chang Jinhua, who had just come out of Meng Wan's room, stopped them. "He just took his medicine and fell asleep. Your kind thoughts are enough; let him rest."

Meng Wan had drifted into a drowsy sleep after taking the medicine. Song Tingzhou sat by his bedside, staring intently at the prescription, and only after a while did he put it away and feel Meng Wan's forehead.

He didn't have a fever, though a fine sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead because the blanket was tucked too tightly.

Song Tingzhou rinsed a cloth in warm water and wiped the sweat from his forehead, then sat beside Meng Wan again, lost in thought. He was always busy with this and that, but now he didn't want to do anything—just quietly stay with Meng Wan for a while.

A chill wind blew in through the window, lifting a strand of Meng Wan's hair. Song Tingzhou gently smoothed it back into place, then rose to close all the windows.

Thick clouds gathered overhead, dark and heavy, and the weather changed without warning. Thunder rumbled restlessly within the clouds, poised to strike at any moment.

The sky darkened, and a storm was brewing.

Meng Wan was ill for three or four days. Afterward, though he still had a stuffy nose and a cough, it wasn't serious, and with proper care he would recover.

He listlessly sipped his plain congee and asked Song Tingzhou, who was peeling an egg for him, "Has Yu Geer gone out again? I have to say, that kid's got a thick skin." Perhaps he was too young and clueless, going off to banquets with high spirits every day, only to come home crying.

Song Tingzhou brought the egg to his lips, and Meng Wan took a bite. It was an ordinary boiled egg, and he wasn't too keen on it.

"Wan'er." Song Tingzhou frowned.

Since the new year, Meng Wan had been visibly losing weight. After just a few days of illness, the line of his jaw had grown even more pronounced.

"Fine." Meng Wan lowered his eyes, took the egg himself, and ate it bite by bite.

Song Tingzhou was home, watching him eat every day and occasionally adding extra meals. Meng Wan slipped into Chang Jinhua's room, just in time to catch Aunt Chang boasting to Chang Jinhua, asking her to help vet potential matches for Yu Geer.

During the past couple of days while Meng Wan was ill, two families had indeed taken notice of Yu Geer's search for a husband. Such matters were usually arranged by elders, and Yu Geer, being an unmarried young man, could get away with it once or twice. But without an elder accompanying him each time, people inevitably began to speculate that he wasn't favored by Meng Wan.

No prestigious household would consider Yu Geer, such an ill-mannered young man. But there were a couple of minor, stagnant officials willing to marry down.

Having held the same post for years without promotion, they would gladly marry even a senior maidservant of the Song family, let alone a cousin, just to get in good with Song Tingzhou, the powerful Prefect of Shuntian Prefecture.

Meng Wan had already stepped in and couldn't retreat in time. Aunt Chang joyfully invited him in.

"Wan Geer, take a look at these two families and tell me which is better. Both are said to be officials in the capital. I met the two young men yesterday, and they're both decent-looking."

Yesterday, the matchmaker had brought the suitors to the door. Huang Ye, not wanting to disturb Meng Wan's rest, had mentioned it to him and directed them to Chang Jinhua's quarters in the back courtyard.

After all, he was her own nephew. Chang Jinhua hesitated and said, "Wan Geer, why don't you take a look and help decide?"