Liaodong, Ru Prefecture.
Prince Da’an’s palace occupied a vast area, grand and majestic in appearance. Its layout and scale were in no way inferior to the imperial palace at the center of the Great Qian capital.
The Enlightenment Hall, specially used by the Prince for examining his sons, was now packed inside and out with people—all attendants of the various princes.
Murong Yi arrived hurriedly with two personal guards. Just as he was about to enter, someone suddenly emerged from around a corridor corner. This person had a lean face and gentle eyes, and bowed to Murong Yi from afar.
There weren’t many people in this palace who treated him so courteously. Murong Yi immediately performed a deep bow, a hundred times more courteous and humble than the other man. “Master-grandfather, may you be well.”
The lean man opposite smiled and said gently, “The Eighteenth Prince is being mischievous again. How could this minister deserve such an address?”
Murong Yi laughed, “Minister Qiu is Father Prince’s teacher, who has supported Father Prince in establishing great worldly achievements for many years. Your merits in Liaodong are immense, so naturally you are my master-grandfather.”
Qiu Wujiu smiled helplessly and shook his head, then suddenly asked, “Has the Eighteenth Prince been injured?”
Following his gaze, Murong Yi looked down and only then noticed a faint trace of blood at the edge of his wrist, probably carelessly stained during the earlier interrogation.
“It’s been cold recently, so I’ve been staying by the fire. Being roasted by the heat for too long, it’s inevitable to have a few nosebleeds.” Murong Yi said nonchalantly, “How about you take my pulse, Master-grandfather, and prescribe some medicine to reduce the heat?”
Qiu Wujiu said, “Hot fires and boiling oil may look vigorous, but they harm people the most. If the Eighteenth Prince enjoys warming by the fire, then you need not only to reduce the heat, but also to calm your heart.”
Murong Yi laughed, “You’re absolutely right.”
The two faced each other and smiled—one smile gentle and kind, the other innocent and guileless.
A group of people came bustling over from behind. The leader gave Qiu Wujiu a perfunctory bow, shouldered Murong Yi aside against the wall, swept past him like the wind, and threw back a distant remark: “Seductive wretch!”
Murong Yi stood on tiptoe, raised his head and shouted after the departing group: “Fourth Brother!”
A snort of laughter came from behind. When Murong Yi turned back, Qiu Wujiu had already left.
Mu Si followed behind him. He was the son of the palace’s deputy steward and had some standing in the palace, so Murong Yi usually brought him along when in the palace.
The eternally indignant Mu Si frowned as he watched Qiu Wujiu’s departing figure and said, “That old man speaks with hidden barbs!”
The smile on Murong Yi’s face didn’t fade.
Liaodong was rich in foxes and wolves, and this palace was full of them inside and out. He had walked among them for many years, every step fraught with danger. Having finally reached today with great difficulty, no one should think of suddenly kicking him down and ruining his good fortune.
Like that Imperial Princess’s husband selection, for instance.
He hoped she had some sense.
Murong Yi turned around the corridor, entered through the door, and stood in the corner by the entrance, directly facing the Enlightenment Hall plaque.
“Enlightenment” took its meaning from “Learning values heart’s understanding; clinging to the old achieves nothing.”
Murong Yi always stared at those last four characters for a long time.
Prince Da’an’s restless old heart could be clearly seen from these four characters.
Prince Da’an, Murong Yao, over fifty years old, had an angular, square face. Years of wealthy, honored living had worn away the weathered look forged on battlefields, adding several degrees of dignified bearing. At this moment his expression was still gentle as he finished reviewing the assignments of his first few sons, nodded, and set them aside.
There was still a large stack beside him—after all, he had eighteen sons, but the Prince had myriad affairs to handle daily and couldn’t possibly review them all.
So every time Murong Yi handed in his assignments, the cover was written neat and proper, but inside, when he was in a good mood it would be completely blank, and when in a bad mood he’d draw a turtle.
The Princess Consort sat to one side, and several consorts who had followed the Prince for many years also had seats. Consort Baoxiang’s position was at the very end. She pressed her lips together and stared at that stack of scrolls, and Murong Yi guessed she was wondering whether to have the Prince look at her own assignment as well, but Murong Yi would bet ten thousand that she wouldn’t dare take that risk.
After all, he had once “accidentally” let Consort Baoxiang see his own assignment.
According to old custom, after reviewing the assignments and giving a few admonishing words, they would disperse. But today Prince Da’an seemed to have something on his mind, rubbing his knees with both hands for a long while without speaking.
Though the sons normally fought like black-eyed roosters—for instance, recently both the First Prince and Second Prince had separately come to Prince Da’an in tears to complain—that was all done privately. At these family gathering occasions, everyone had to maintain a harmonious facade to dress up this flourishing royal family. Several favored sons all gathered around, inquiring about his health, consulting on various matters, chattering away wanting to share their father-prince’s worries.
Prince Da’an then said, “In that case, let me test you on something. Whoever answers well will be rewarded with a position as Secretary in the Inner Library.”
The princes immediately stirred.
The Inner Library was the Prince’s cabinet, controlling Liaodong’s political affairs. A Secretary position meant permission to participate in governance—the significance was self-evident.
“If there were someone to whom you owed a great debt of gratitude, but now he has committed a crime, what should you do?”
The First Prince immediately replied, “Father Prince has always taught us not to let private affection harm public righteousness. Those who serve loyally and benefit the times should be rewarded even if they are enemies; those who break laws and are negligent should be punished even if they are relatives. Gratitude and criminal acts should never be mixed together.”
The Second Prince snorted derisively, and the First Prince glared at him angrily.
The Second Prince said, “Big Brother, don’t be angry. This laugh is merely my admiration for Big Brother’s familiarity with the classics and ability to quote them fluently. But Father Prince surely understands such principles, doesn’t he? I imagine this gratitude must be extraordinary, and this crime must also be exceptional, which is why Father Prince finds it troubling, right?”
Prince Da’an nodded approvingly. The First Prince’s face turned iron-blue.
Murong Yi said nothing. Only he knew what the old man was referring to. First was Yang Xiong—Yang Xiong had once saved Prince Da’an’s life, and the old fellow both wanted to kill him and feared being held hostage by gratitude, even more afraid of being criticized for ingratitude. Second was the Royal Teacher Qiu Wujiu. This teacher of Prince Da’an was actually a descendant of the previous generation’s Western Rong royal family. When the dynasty fell and he fled, he brought many Western Rong followers to serve Prince Da’an. Over these many years, with Prince Da’an’s support, he had also built quite an underground network in Western Rong. Now feeling his wings were strong enough and missing his homeland, he wanted to return. But Prince Da’an only wanted to control him to plot against Western Rong—how could he let the tiger return to the mountain? It’s just that all of Liaodong knew Qiu Wujiu was utterly loyal to the Prince, had worked tirelessly for his territory, and had even blocked swords for him twice. With such merit and loyalty, to detain him without release—even someone like Prince Da’an couldn’t bring himself to say it outright.
Those who didn’t know the inside story and answered rashly couldn’t possibly please him.
Sure enough, the next few sons chattered away, still thinking this was Father Prince testing their character, all pulling toward righteousness. Prince Da’an just listened impassively.
Consort Baoxiang sat to one side, seeing the princes all eager to speak while only Murong Yi looked completely absent-minded, and immediately became furious. Suddenly seeing Mu Si whisper something to Murong Yi, and Murong Yi’s lips curve in a smile with a hint of mockery.
Consort Baoxiang suddenly remembered that over all these years, whenever Murong Yi showed this kind of smile, she was sure to suffer.
This child was clearly extremely clever. Looking at his expression, he might not be without ideas about the Prince’s question either. Why was he unwilling to step forward and let the Prince see that he had more than just a pretty face?
Father Prince’s favor wouldn’t fall from heaven. With so many sons, if you don’t work hard to walk into his line of sight, can you still expect him to notice you first?
Prince Da’an was still smiling slightly, but the frequency of his finger tapping on his knee had obviously quickened. The consorts who understood him all knew this meant he was impatient and about to end things.
Consort Baoxiang’s heart tightened. She suddenly pointed at Murong Yi and said, “Yi’er, Mother Consort sees that you have ideas. Why don’t you speak up and let Father Prince evaluate them?”