Spring Remains the Same - Chapter 73

Words of confession always made one shy. A faint blush appeared on Puyang’s cheeks, and her gaze, fixed on Wei Xiu, was tender and affectionate.

She truly wanted the best for Wei Xiu with all her heart, and she truly trusted her with all her heart.

Who could remain unmoved by such deeply affectionate words? Moreover, the Princess had already taken root deep within her heart. Wei Xiu raised a hand and gently stroked the dark hair at the Princess’s temple.

The strands were soft, just like the slightly bowed, shy Puyang at this moment. She was not one to show weakness to others, yet before her, she was willing to reveal her charming allure without reservation. She was not accustomed to making promises, yet at this moment, she told her that even if a rift were to form between them one day, she would not turn against her.

Beneath the hair at her temple was Puyang’s delicate skin, fair and smooth, tinged with a light peach color. She lowered her eyes, full of a tenderness that evoked pity. Wei Xiu’s gaze grew profound. She should have said something to respond to Her Highness’s deep affection, but she could not utter a single word. The Princess used words to pour out her love, while she used words to practice deception.

She was no longer willing to lie to Her Highness.

There is no way to have the best of both worlds. If only she could be a little more heartless, she would have no regrets.

Forgetting her hatred and peacefully staying with the Princess, or forgetting the Princess and single-mindedly pursuing revenge—either would lead to a definitive end. Both were better than her current state, where she clearly should restrain herself, yet found her emotions spiraling out of control step by step.

A faint fragrance emanated from Puyang, lingering in the air. As Wei Xiu drew closer, Puyang obediently closed her eyes. Sir’s lips were cool, just like her as a person—always faint, never overly passionate about anything, nor ever dismissive of anything.

Her Highness was a little nervous; when their lips touched, she seemed to flinch. Wei Xiu caressed her cheek even more gently. What could she give the Princess in return? She, too, felt deep affection. She, too, wished to cherish her. She, too, hoped for a day when they could look at each other with white hair. But the chasm between them was as wide as the heavens.

Wei Xiu became even more reserved. Normally when speaking with Puyang, she would gaze at her, making Puyang’s heart flutter, but now she no longer mentioned whether she liked or loved the Princess.

She often sat in the bamboo grove behind the house for an entire afternoon, the cold wind rustling through the leaves. Every green bamboo here had been planted by her father’s hand. Though it was a bleak and biting season, and the grove was even colder, Wei Xiu cherished the moments of peace she found here.

Sometimes Puyang would accompany her, and she would not refuse. She would have a table and seat set up, and she would study Puyang’s features for half a day without saying a word.

She was never a person of many words, so no one noticed her change. But Wei Xiu herself knew she could no longer escape. The Princess’s name was engraved on her heart; she could no longer face the word “revenge.”

Just as she had told the Emperor, humans are not like grass or trees; who can be without feelings? It was merely a matter of what one was willing to part with.

Before, the Princess was not in her heart. She had followed her to the capital, regarding her as nothing more than a stepping stone. But day after day, she could no longer be as detached as she once was.

She could no longer disregard the Princess’s feelings, repaying her family with the same cruelty, or inflicting the disaster of collapse upon the Great Wei that she held so dear.

But how could a family feud that had simmered for over a decade be set aside so easily?

Wei Xiu was caught in a dilemma, unable to make a choice.

This winter was a warm one. After two or three snowfalls, there were signs of the weather warming up.

The Princess had recently taken a liking to the plum wine she brewed. Unfortunately, this kind of fruit wine was only made because the fresh fruit was difficult to store, and Wei Xiu, seeing it as a waste to throw away, had made it on a whim. Thus, there was not much in stock, and it had been finished a few days ago. There were no plums at this time of year, much to the Princess’s disappointment. Coincidentally, the Inspector of Jizhou had sent a large quantity of mountain pears. Wei Xiu used them to brew mountain pear wine. This wine was mild and mellow, with a clean and elegant fragrance, more suitable for a lady to drink. She thought the Princess would like it.

Wei Xiu had someone dig pits in the bamboo grove and buried the jars. In about a month, they could be unearthed. By then, it would be the New Year, and Her Highness could use it to entertain her female guests.

The sunlight was splendid today. The air was still cold, and one’s breath turned to mist upon exhaling, but the sun on one’s body brought back a bit of warmth.

Wei Xiu, wrapped in a fur cloak, sat quietly by the small pond in the grove. The pond was covered in a thick layer of ice. She recalled how the Princess had come here yesterday and said that when the ice melted next year, she would raise a few fish in the pond. When she had a craving, she would kill one to make soup.

Wei Xiu couldn’t help but smile. The winter sun shone on her, warm and comforting. She unconsciously closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Wei Xiu had a dream. She was usually a light sleeper, but this time she fell into a deep dreamscape.

There were many people in the dream: the Emperor, the princes, the ministers, and the Princess too. In her dream, the Princess was just as breathtakingly beautiful.

Just as Wei Xiu was about to step forward, she saw the Princess walking toward her. She curled her lips, about to speak, but the Princess passed right through her. She felt as if she were floating above the ground, an outsider, only able to watch as the scenes in the dream unfolded.

It was just a dream, anyway. It would all vanish upon waking.

Wei Xiu was no longer in a hurry and simply watched with her hands in her sleeves.

She observed the surrounding scenery and the appearance of the people, roughly estimating that this was about seven or eight years in the future. Everyone looked a bit more weathered by time.

The dream was not continuous but a series of fragmented scenes. First, the Emperor reprimanded the princes in court, even banishing the Prince of Jing to a distant land. The other princes, forced by the situation, had to lie low. Then, Xiao Dewen was established as the Crown Grandson.

Wei Xiu couldn’t help but smile; this was exactly in line with her plans. The princes were unworthy, but they were still the Emperor’s sons. The Emperor was unwilling to give the country to them, but he couldn’t bear to see them live miserably either. Thus, his actions would not be too harsh. At most, he would suppress the princes to prevent them from making trouble for Xiao Dewen.

But while he was alive, the princes, constrained by his authority as their sovereign and father, would not dare to make any major moves. What if he died? Would the princes still be able to restrain themselves?

When they started fighting, the Princess could profit from the chaos.

The scene shifted to a garden, lush with blooming flowers and verdant trees. Xiao Dewen, dressed in the formal attire of the heir apparent, bowed solemnly to her. “Now that I am the heir, what should be the next step? I ask for Sir’s guidance.”

“The Crown Grandson need only act according to His Majesty’s orders. Remember to treat the princes well,” she said faintly, looking at the blooming flowers.

Xiao Dewen frowned. “My uncles will surely plot against me. I am already the heir, why must I endure further?”

“If the Crown Grandson were emperor, he could indulge his whims. But as the heir, he must satisfy His Majesty. The princes are also His Majesty’s sons.” The words were a clear hint.

Xiao Dewen looked displeased but still calmed down, once again adopting a warm, gentle, frugal, and deferential demeanor.

Wei Xiu then saw her dream-self smile and signal for the servant behind her to push her away.

To indulge one’s whims as emperor was, of course, a lie. Who said an emperor could do whatever he wanted? If that were the case, where did all the rulers of fallen kingdoms come from? But Xiao Dewen would surely believe it. Not because he was foolish, but because he had endured for over a decade. During these years, he had risen step by step, from imperial grandson to commandery prince, to Crown Grandson. He was constantly climbing. Outsiders’ attitudes toward him had changed from disdain to respectful submission. He was naturally pleased with himself, but despite this, he still had to be reverent to the Emperor and polite to the princes who saw him as a thorn in their side. The princes had made multiple attempts on his life, yet he had to endure it again and again. Even reporting them to the Emperor required careful consideration. It was utterly humiliating and debasing.

As his resentment grew, so did his hatred for the princes. The only thing that allowed him to continue enduring was the thought that one day, upon ascending the throne, he could have his revenge.

Since he yearned for that day of “indulging his whims,” when that day truly came, how could he not “indulge his whims”?

Wei Xiu understood. The actions of her dream-self perfectly matched her previous plans. But then, she became puzzled. Looking at the surrounding scenery, this was the rear garden of one of her residences in the capital. She should have been with the Princess, so how did she end up here? And from Xiao Dewen’s attitude, it seemed he regarded her as a strategist guiding his political maneuvers.

Wei Xiu was confused, but soon, the scene before her changed. It shifted to the Hall of Proclaimed Virtue.

Xiao Dewen was already wearing the imperial crown and robes. He sat on the throne, deliberately mimicking the Emperor’s posture and expression, but he was ultimately too green, looking like a child who had stolen his parents’ clothes and found them ill-fitting. Opposite him stood Puyang.

Puyang looked displeased but still spoke in a reasonable tone, “Zhongzhou is suffering from a disaster, and the people have no grain to survive. We must quickly allocate grain for relief to prevent an uprising.”

Xiao Dewen frowned slightly and said, “Before my aunt, I won’t speak in platitudes. The Inspector of Zhongzhou is one of the Prince of Jin’s men. This drought is an act of heaven. As long as his disaster relief is ineffective and incites a popular revolt, I can dismiss him from his post and replace him with someone useful. Thus, the Prince of Jin will lose another province, and his power will be greatly diminished.”

Wei Xiu saw astonishment flash in the Princess’s eyes, but she quickly composed herself. “The disaster has already occurred. Whether you want to strip his title or dismiss him from office, it won’t be hard to find an excuse. Your Majesty should put the people first. If the people have no grain to fill their bellies, they will rebel.”

Wei Xiu could hear that by the end, the Princess was already somewhat displeased. This was just like her; she would not allow anyone to cross her bottom line.

Xiao Dewen coolly uttered two words: “Suppress them!”

Puyang took a deep breath. “If the court provides timely relief, why would there be such trouble? The harvests have been good these past few years; the grain in the granaries is about to rot. This is known throughout the realm. Your Majesty has just ascended the throne, yet you are withholding grain. It is Your Majesty’s reputation that will be ruined. In the end, even if the Inspector of Zhongzhou is dismissed, Your Majesty’s reputation will also suffer. The loss will outweigh the gain. The Prince of Jin might lament the loss of a province, but the Prince of Zhao will be the one to reap the benefits.”

Xiao Dewen showed his impatience and prevaricated, “Aunt, allow me to think on it.”

But Puyang shot him a glance and said, “The silver and grain must be dispatched by tomorrow at the latest. I ask Your Majesty to prepare the edict.”

Xiao Dewen was greatly indignant. But then, thinking of something, he suppressed his anger and said no more. Seeing this, Puyang rose and left.

Wei Xiu watched Puyang’s departing figure and thought to herself that the Princess in her dream seemed even more dedicated to the public good.

As soon as Puyang was gone, Xiao Dewen suddenly erupted in fury, panting heavily. “I am already the Emperor, and she dares to pressure me like this!”

“The ministers in the court all believe the Grand Princess’s words to be wise. Your Majesty can only endure for a little while longer.”

The voice came from behind a curtain. Wei Xiu quickly looked over and saw her own self emerge from behind it. Reflecting on the words just spoken, she couldn’t help but frown. This was clearly meant to incite Xiao Dewen’s resentment toward the Princess. Xiao Dewen was already the emperor, holding the moral high ground. Given his overly repressed nature, if his dissatisfaction with the Princess grew, once it erupted, it would surely be detrimental to the Princess.

Her dream-self approached the emperor and said, “I heard everything the Grand Princess said. She has a point. Acting this way will indeed harm Your Majesty’s reputation. However, this is a minor detail. Harming the Prince of Jin is the most important matter. As for the Prince of Zhao benefiting, what tangible benefits can he gain? Once Your Majesty has suppressed the Prince of Jin, you will naturally be free to deal with the Prince of Zhao. It is only a matter of time.”

Xiao Dewen was deeply convinced. “That hateful aunt has thwarted my plans!”

Her expression showed no fluctuation as she casually said, “The Grand Princess was entrusted by the late Emperor to assist Your Majesty, so it is natural for her to be cautious. But an opportunity must not be missed. Your Majesty cannot yield.”

Xiao Dewen seemed to have found his backbone, and his expression immediately became resolute.

If he did not yield, there would certainly be another dispute with the Princess. The Princess might not lose, but the rift with the new monarch would deepen, and conflicts would accumulate. Sooner or later, they would become enemies. This was not a good thing for the Princess. But to have the Princess ignore the suffering disaster victims, to watch them starve to death, become refugees, and then be branded as rebels and cut down by the sword—that was something she would never do.

Wei Xiu’s brow furrowed tighter and tighter. In this way, Her Highness would be placing herself in a perilous situation. She was anxious for the Princess’s safety, but she soon realized that if the new monarch quarreled with the Princess over disaster relief, the matter would surely spread. The new monarch’s lack of virtue would be exposed, and the princes would undoubtedly embellish the story. An emperor whose position was already unstable, now accused of being devoid of virtue—the court would likely fall into chaos. However, the princes’ powers were evenly matched. Even if they drove out Xiao Dewen and installed a new emperor, who would it be? If they chose the Prince of Zhao, would the Prince of Jin agree? If they chose the Prince of Jin, would the Prince of Dai agree?

It would be impossible to decide. If this continued, the chaos would only multiply. The princes all had troops at their command; a chaotic war was not impossible.

This was exactly what she wanted. Wei Xiu suddenly understood what her dream-self was trying to do. She felt a surge of excitement. With chaos in the court, coupled with natural disasters and rising refugees, turmoil would erupt everywhere. If the states of Qi and Song also grew restless, the Wei court’s hold on the realm might not remain stable.

But after the excitement, she felt lost again. What about Her Highness? Was Her Highness to be sacrificed?

Wei Xiu felt a piercing pain in her chest. She could not bear to even think of something happening to Her Highness.

She had become so weak.

The dream would not end. Wei Xiu was no longer as calm as she had been at the beginning. She watched herself push the situation forward step by step, planting hidden dangers everywhere. Xiao Dewen, lost in his dream of being an emperor who could indulge his whims, naturally couldn’t see it, while the Princess thwarted her actions time and time again.

The two of them were like strangers, rarely meeting, and their conversations were few and far between. But at some point, it was less that the new monarch and the Grand Princess were at odds, and more that she herself was in direct opposition to the Princess.

But her dream-self also began to hesitate. She clearly had the upper hand, repeatedly leaving the Princess with no way to fight back, yet she became confused.

It was a spring of lush grass and soaring warblers, swallows carrying warm mud, a scene of gentle spring. She was passing by the shore of Kunming Pool when the sight of the rippling green water filled her with longing. She took a jade xiao from her sleeve.

A cool breeze blew, and the spring day brought warmth. Such a beautiful time, yet it was to be confined to schemes and conspiracies. It was truly a waste of good time. Her heart calmed as she gazed at the winding mountain range in the distance and the specks of peach blossoms on the nearby water. The sound of the xiao followed her mood, becoming delicate and melodious.

The sound of footsteps approached from behind. Somehow, she just knew it had to be the Princess. Her heart grew vigilant. She lowered the jade xiao and turned around, just in time to see the fleeting look of amazement in the Princess’s eyes vanish, her gaze turning cold.

She paid it no mind. It would be strange if the Princess were to treat her with a pleasant expression. She nodded calmly in greeting. “Greetings, Grand Princess.”

The Princess had nothing good to say to her. Besides, she had just offered slanderous advice, sending all the princes out of the capital. With the Princess’s foresight, how could she not see that this was tantamount to letting tigers return to the mountains? Naturally, she would not have a pleasant look for her.

The Princess returned a slight bow and was about to take her leave, but for some reason, she spoke up: “Why does the Grand Princess look so worn out?”

The Princess stopped and looked at her, saying sarcastically, “Why does Sir Wei ask when he already knows?”

Those eyes of hers were a rare kind of clear in this world, yet at this moment, they held a thick layer of ridicule. Wei Xiu saw a flash of realization in her dream-self’s eyes.

She finally understood why she had hesitated and why she had been confused. She didn’t understand why the Princess, who had a thousand paths to choose from, insisted on taking the most perilous one. She was born noble; how could she understand how the common people below struggled to survive? Yet she was willing to argue forcefully in court for those ant-like, humble commoners. She was the late Emperor’s daughter, holding significant power. No matter who became emperor, they would have to respect her. Yet, because of the late Emperor’s final words, she single-mindedly supported the new monarch.

Did she not know that acting this way would very likely offend the princes and put her at odds with the new monarch?

She knew. How could someone as intelligent as her not know? Yet she insisted on doing what she knew was impossible!

She thought she had understood and would no longer hesitate, but who knew that she would become even more hesitant. The Princess’s sarcastic gaze seemed to form a cage, trapping her within.

What the Princess did was for the greater good; what she did was selfish and narrow-minded.

She had known from the beginning that her actions could hardly be called noble. But the great enmity of over a hundred lives in her Zhong clan could not go unavenged. Therefore, she moved forward without hesitation, unswervingly carrying out one deed after another that would push the state of Wei into eternal damnation.

But were such actions truly worth it? The money and grain the Princess fought for, even at the cost of falling out with the new monarch, saved the people of an entire province. But they would very likely be plunged into the flames of war and die in the chaos because of her actions.

By then, it would not be one province, but an entire country, and even the whole world, that would know no peace.

Once her great revenge was achieved, would her heart be at ease?

To sacrifice the lives of tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, or even millions of innocent people for the hundred-odd lives of her family—was it worth it?

She began to hesitate. Anyone could speak words of great righteousness. Without feeling the pain themselves, everyone could be generous and just. But how could she face those departed souls? A Rong, Yan Huan, and the others who followed her orders—their relatives had also died in that disaster. Would they be willing to just let it go?

And the Princess remained as ever. She had righteousness in her heart; she knew how to act to make her family and country prosper.

She had a direction to move forward. Wei Xiu suddenly felt that her father’s dying wish was to unify the world. If she acted according to the Princess’s political views, the nation’s fortune would surely prosper. With full granaries and a full treasury, they could support an army and cross the river. If that day came, would it comfort her father’s departed soul?

Compared to letting the Xiao clan perish in silence just like the Zhong clan, would this perhaps bring her father more solace?

The people would not have to suffer, and the country would not have to be broken. The court would get better and better.

Wei Xiu saw herself hesitating repeatedly, struggling in the bl00d-soaked hatred. She wanted to break free, but it was so difficult. She still rarely met with the Princess, but the Princess was like a bright lamp, supporting her in letting go of her family’s hatred, supporting her in taking a broader view and prioritizing the bigger picture.

She tried to offer advice to Xiao Dewen as well, urging him to proceed slowly and not be too rash, that all things come to fruition with patience. She advised him to secretly amass troops and, when the princes came to the capital next year to pay respects to the late Emperor, to capture them all in one fell swoop and execute them on the spot. Once they were dead, all troubles would vanish. She tried to do something beneficial.

Wei Xiu felt as if she, too, was becoming more peaceful.

However, things in the world never go so smoothly. Xiao Dewen could no longer bear it. Using the pretext of an “ominous star threatening the palace,” he suddenly made a move, determined to put the Princess to death.

Wei Xiu saw herself at home, hearing the news. The cup in her hand slipped and shattered on the floor.

The situation was urgent. There was no time to enter the palace and request an edict of pardon, and besides, Xiao Dewen might not grant it. The Imperial Guard must have a secret edict from the Son of Heaven; words alone could not dissuade them. Wei Xiu then saw herself, after a moment of deep thought, take out an old edict left from a gift Xiao Dewen had once bestowed.

To bear a forged edict was a capital crime. But the situation was urgent, and there was no other way.

She rushed toward the Grand Princess’s residence, her mind racing with thoughts of the situation there. The Princess’s residence was built by order of the late Emperor, with high, thick walls and several hundred armored soldiers within. Holding out for an hour would surely not be a problem. As soon as she arrived, she could certainly disperse the Imperial Guard.

Even knowing it was a dream, Wei Xiu grew tense.

A heavy night curtain enveloped Luoyang. Only the hurried clatter of horse hooves could be heard on the road, each sound throwing one’s heart into turmoil.

Wei Xiu’s heart was in her throat. This road seemed so long, as if it would never end. The carriage was already at its fastest speed. Sitting inside, the panic on her face subsided, and her expression grew increasingly calm.

“The Grand Princess’s residence is just ahead!” a servant reported from outside the carriage.

Wei Xiu’s heart leaped into her throat. They were near the Princess’s residence, so why was there no sound of fighting? She looked at her dream-self in the carriage and saw that she, too, was alarmed and uneasy.

The Grand Princess’s residence was surrounded by the Imperial Guard, the entire estate brightly lit. Wei Xiu saw that the gates and walls were clean and intact and knew that the Princess had not resisted. A pain shot through her heart. She passed through the crowd and entered the main hall.

The Princess was there.

She was dressed in court attire, her expression serene, her eyes shining with a brilliant light, still noble and elegant. The minister before her, though clearly in a position of power, did not even dare to straighten his back.

Wei Xiu’s eyes grew hot. This was indeed how the Princess would be: calm in the face of danger, maintaining her dignity.

The poisoned wine was presented. Wei Xiu was frantic, constantly looking toward the door. The Princess picked up the wine cup, studied it for a moment, a faint smile on her lips. She looked up at the Secretariat Drafter and said, “Tell Xiao Dewen that from the heavens, I will watch him die without a burial place.”

After speaking, she raised the cup and drank it all in one go. Wei Xiu’s eyes widened in horror. She uncontrollably wanted to rush forward, but she couldn’t even stand.

A cry of despair and pain echoed in her ears.

It was too late for everything.

The Princess collapsed, bl00d continuously spilling from the corner of her mouth.

Wei Xiu forgot she was in a dream, and a powerful hatred surged in her heart.

She had wanted to become better, but this world, this court, had told her that it was not worth saving at all! A person dedicated to the public good met only a desolate end. Why should she ever have given up her own desires!

Wei Xiu looked at the Princess lying on the ground, her spirit utterly destroyed. She bent down to pick her up, but her hands could only pass through her body. She had completely forgotten that this was just a dream. Her heart was filled with pain, her turbulent soul had nowhere to rest. There was no one left to whisper in her ear, “How could I bear to lay a hand on you?”

Wei Xiu opened her eyes. The sun was setting in the west, and the grove was cold and gloomy. Her eyes were bloodshot, her mind still lingering in the dream.

“Sir is awake?” a smiling voice asked by her ear.

Wei Xiu turned her head in a daze and saw Puyang sitting beside her.

They were clearly so close, yet in Wei Xiu’s eyes, it was as if they were separated by ten thousand miles. Her Highness’s face, her smile, her eyes—they were all as they had been. But Wei Xiu found it hard to believe she could see such a living, breathing Her Highness. She grew timid. She reached out a hand, carefully touching Puyang’s cheek, her fingers even trembling slightly.

Puyang was slightly surprised but still smiled and tilted her head, letting Wei Xiu’s palm rest against her face.

Soft, warm. Wei Xiu finally emerged from the dream. She managed a slight curve of her lips, and when she opened her mouth, her voice was hoarse. “When did Your Highness arrive?”

“A little while ago. I saw that Sir was sleeping soundly and couldn’t bear to wake you,” Puyang said.

Wei Xiu then noticed a thick blanket covering her, wrapping her body tightly against any trace of the severe cold. The grief of losing her beloved still lingered in her heart, weighing it down. Wei Xiu looked at Puyang as if she could never see enough of her. She didn’t want to leave her for a single moment. She dared not imagine what she would do if, one day, the scene from her dream came true and she had to face a lifeless Her Highness.

Wei Xiu took Puyang’s hand. Puyang was surprised and couldn’t help but smile. “Sir is a little different today.”

But Wei Xiu had already calmed her expression. She simply said to her, “I just brewed some wine, made from mountain pears. It will surely suit Your Highness’s taste.”

Puyang nodded, her eyes filled with a gentle smile.

“I once read about a method for cooking fish in an ancient text. I tried it twice on Mount Mang, and it was very fresh and delicious. Next spring, when we have some fish in the pond, if Your Highness has a craving, I will cook it for you myself.”

Puyang pursed her lips and lowered her head with a smile. “It is Sir who has the craving.”

Wei Xiu couldn’t help but smile as well. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she stared at Puyang without blinking, looking at her, safe and sound, filled, completely filled, with relief.

Every emperor, upon ascending the throne, would order the court historians to compile a history. The Zhou dynasty had been defunct for nearly twenty years, and its last emperor had died this year, so the History of Zhou was nearly complete. The Grand Historian presented the manuscript to the Emperor. After more than a month, the Emperor returned the manuscript, ordering the Grand Historian to compile it into a book according to his revisions and promulgate it throughout the realm. The Grand Historian received the edict and organized the compilation clerks and others to carry out the task, only to discover that two pages were missing from the manuscript.

Those two pages were on the imperial desk in the Hall of Proclaimed Virtue. The Emperor picked them up, glanced at them, and was about to put them back down. Dou Hui, standing to the side, quickly glanced at the paper, only managing to see the character “Zhong.” He immediately lowered his head, feigning deep discretion.

The Emperor had picked up and put down these two pages of the manuscript many times, but not once had he managed to read them through smoothly. His expression was complicated, a mix of annoyance and what seemed like an urge to avoid them. He glanced at the two pages and said indifferently, “Bring a brazier. Burn them.”

Dou Hui quickly signaled to the attendants below, and the palace servants immediately brought a brazier forward.

The Emperor watched with his own eyes as the two pages of the manuscript turned to ash, but his expression did not improve. After a long silence, he asked, “The Xu clan’s descendants, how many are still around?”

Dou Hui had only been brought to the Emperor’s side several years after the founding of the Wei dynasty; he was not clear on many of the earlier events. Although he had his own thoughts, it was best for him to stay away from matters His Majesty did not want others to know about. At this moment, he secretly thought that the sovereign’s heart was hard to fathom. It was clearly the biographical manuscript of Grand Marshal Zhong, yet His Majesty was now asking about the Xu clan. On the surface, however, he answered without hesitation, “Not many. The men are long gone. Only a few female relatives remain, all in the palace.”

The Emperor’s expression softened slightly, and he said sarcastically, “They certainly know how to survive. Keep an eye on them. Do not grant them the slightest favor.”

Dou Hui repeatedly nodded in agreement.

A eunuch came to the hall entrance and reported to the Emperor, “Your Majesty, the Grand Historian requests an audience.”

The Emperor was impatient and said to Dou Hui, “Go and tell him that the 《Book of Zhou》 is to be compiled according to the manuscript I returned to him. Not a single word is to be added!”

His Majesty wants that Grand Marshal Zhong to vanish from the history books! Dou Hui dared not question it, much less delay, and hurried off to do as he was told.

Disturbed by the Grand Historian, the Emperor grew annoyed again. He waved his hand at his surroundings, and soon, everyone in the hall had withdrawn.

The brazier was still not far away, originally used for warmth in the winter. The charcoal inside was still burning brightly. In a short time, not only was the manuscript burned to nothing, but even the ashes were consumed by the fire, leaving not a single trace.

The Emperor’s indifferent expression seemed on the verge of cracking, and a look of regret and guilt emerged from his gloomy eyes. But this remorse lasted only a moment. Soon, the Emperor resumed his imperial majesty, showing neither joy nor anger.

A general’s success is built on ten thousand bleaching bones. Someone always has to die to forge a glorious achievement.

Old matters from the past need not weigh on the mind.

So the Emperor thought, but his eyes, as if beyond his control, glanced at the brazier again.

He was getting old, after all, and inevitably growing soft-hearted. The Emperor felt a little helpless. He summoned people to bring in a new brazier, having them clean up everything that could displease him.

He thought for a moment and commanded, “Summon the Secretariat Drafter.”

He had promised Seventh Lady he would bestow the marriage. Today was a good day; the edict could be issued.

It was not enough to clean up these old matters. He also needed to use a joyous event to cover them up, to disperse the last lingering ripples of emotion.

Author’s Notes:

In her previous life, Wei Xiu’s feelings for the Princess were still rather nascent. It was more a process of being moved and influenced. She found this person’s actions incomprehensible, so she took a few more looks, and then was attracted by the Princess’s shining personality, which made her reflect on her own narrow-mindedness. She had been that way for so many years that it was too difficult to change, but she still tried to.

If it weren’t for Xiao Dewen being so annoying, she wouldn’t have felt that life was meaningless even after getting her revenge. It’s all Xiao Dewen’s fault.