Xiao Chiye refused to accept the edict. Fu Man dared not press him too hard and hurried back to the palace to report.
After hearing the entire account, Li Jianheng sprang to his feet and said, “An imperial command—how can it be something he can simply refuse if he doesn’t want it? I reward him, and he should kneel and receive it! Go again!”
Fu Man felt utterly miserable. He scrambled onto his horse and raced back to Xiao Chiye’s residence. Seeing that Xiao Chiye was still kneeling, he hurriedly cradled the edict in both hands and bent forward to urge him. “Superintendent, Superintendent! Why go this far? We roll around in the mud down here—wasn’t it all for this, hmm?”
Xiao Chiye’s brows were dark with displeasure. He said, “I can’t take this title. Don’t waste any more breath on me.”
Fu Man was so anxious he felt his eyebrows catching fire. He stamped his feet in place, but he could not accept the edict on Xiao Chiye’s behalf. All he could do was stand there and wait.
“Then let him kneel!” Li Jianheng flew into a rage upon hearing the reply in the palace. “I even went so far as to reject the Grand Secretary’s face to secure this reward for him, and he still dares to put on airs? Let him kneel!”
Thus sovereign inside and minister outside fell into a stalemate.
It was the third month of spring, yet the ground was icy cold. Xiao Chiye knelt upright, resolute in forcing Li Jianheng to retract his order. He could have accepted the edict and then used a hundred different methods to handle the matter more gracefully—but he was unwilling.
The Lu family was stationed in Qidong, constrained above by the Qi family and pressed below by incursions from Biansha. Li Jianheng’s mistreatment of Lu Pingyan was a case of deliberately squeezing the softer persimmon. The Lu family was unlike the Qi or Xiao families: the two tens of thousands of troops in the borderlands depended entirely on court allocations for food, clothing, and supplies. They did not even possess military farmlands; otherwise the Lu family would not have had to beg for funds year after year, reduced to selling off their household property in poverty. In the past, when Lu Guangbai came to the capital to report for duty, no one even spared him a proper glance. What ordinary official would dare such arrogance? It was merely a matter of reading the mood from above. During Emperor Xiande’s reign, Lu Guangbai had seldom even been granted an audience. This was not simply about likes and dislikes—it concerned the balance of military power in Qidong.
Both the Xiao and Qi families were frontier commanders. Why, then, did the Hua family single out the Prince of Libei for special vigilance, going to such lengths to trap Xiao Chiye in Du Capital? Because the Xiao clan dominated the vast Libei region alone. Within its entire territory, there was no rein to restrain the Xiao family. The only option was to bind Xiao Chiye and turn him into a cage that shackled the iron cavalry of Libei. Qidong had two great generals—Qi Shiyu and Lu Pingyan were once evenly matched. So why was it Qi Shiyu who ultimately received the title of Supreme Commander of the Five Prefectures? Because Lu Pingyan was close to Xiao Fangxu and even bound to him by marriage.
The Lu clan was a chess piece used to balance all three sides.
The Lu family’s position on the frontier was crucial—this was the court’s reliance upon them. Yet the court relied on them without granting them generous enfeoffment. This meant holding them firmly in hand, subjecting the Lu family to pressure from both the Qi family and the court. They could only serve as a spear pointed outward, striking foreign enemies. They could not become a regional power, could not become a second Prince of Libei.
When Lu Guangbai now deployed troops, he had to request approval from Qi Zhuyin. When he needed funds, he had to petition the Du Capital military and revenue ministries. Though Lu Guangbai served as a frontier commander, if Qi Zhuyin had not been generous in delegating authority—granting him emergency powers to mobilize troops independently—his circumstances would be even more difficult than they already were.
This time, Li Jianheng advanced Lu Pingyan’s noble rank, yet there was no real promotion or adjustment. The Lu family would still be an underfed ox, toiling endlessly in the borderlands. On the surface, it looked like glory; underneath, it was pure humiliation. Half of the Lu family’s present hardship stemmed from the Xiao family, and so Xiao Chiye could not—could not—accept the edict without any show of stance.
The edict had already been issued, signaling that the Grand Secretariat had also nodded assent. An imperial command could not simply be withdrawn; there was no precedent for a sovereign reversing himself. But Xiao Chiye absolutely could not receive it joyfully. Even if it meant kowtowing stubbornly, throwing a tantrum, or making a scene, he had to give the Lu family an attitude.
Li Jianheng could trample the Lu family because the court held them by sheer power. The Xiao family could not do the same, because the two families had long called each other brothers, bound by sentiment. If that sentiment were broken, the Xiao family would lose its support in the southeast.
Xiao Chiye knelt until nightfall. Fu Man dared not sit without permission and stood at the side holding the edict. After an unknown length of time, hurried footsteps sounded at the gate. A eunuch arrived, urgently delivering the message: “Superintendent, please don’t kneel anymore! Get up, quickly! His Majesty summons you!”
Xiao Chiye wasted no words. He swept up his robe, rose, mounted his horse, and left at once. Fu Man hurriedly followed, mounting as well. Seeing no sign of fatigue on Xiao Chiye’s face, he dared not complain.
The Hall of Clear Principle was brightly lit. Li Jianheng sat on the dragon throne. Hearing the report that Xiao Chiye had arrived, he did not summon him, continuing instead to trace characters with his brush.
Without a summons, Xiao Chiye could not enter. He knelt outside the hall. It was already late. The freshly washed floor still retained cool water that seeped into his robes. The eunuchs moved lightly through the courtyard, not daring to make a sound.
Li Jianheng stared at the glazed lamp, thinking in the silence of the night. When he finally came back to himself, it was already the hour of Chou. He sat a while longer, then suddenly rose and walked outside.
Palace maids withdrew; eunuchs knelt. Shadows were trampled underfoot. Xiao Chiye did not raise his head.
Li Jianheng looked down at Xiao Chiye. In the past, he had always looked up at him. When they ran wild together on the streets, Xiao Chiye had been like an elder brother. They called each other brothers and committed plenty of foolish acts together. Li Jianheng believed he had treated Xiao Chiye with complete sincerity.
How had they come to this point?
Li Jianheng wore a bright yellow round-collared robe with narrow sleeves, steadying the amber belt at his waist. He stepped to Xiao Chiye’s side and looked up at the bright moon beneath the towering palace eaves. After a moment of gathering his thoughts, he said, “There’s no one else here. Let’s talk.”
Cold moonlight spilled down, carrying a chill with the wind.
Li Jianheng said, “Aren’t you usually bold? This time, I give you a title, and it scares you into this state?”
Xiao Chiye said, “It violates reason and cannot be tolerated by law.”
“Don’t lecture me with that,” Li Jianheng paced. “You were never one to speak of principles. Before the Nanlin Hunting Grounds, we were brothers who would take blades for each other. After Nanlin, we became true sovereign and minister, separated by a chasm. Ce’an, I became emperor, you became superintendent—what’s wrong with that? Why must you put on airs with me like this? I reward you, you accept it. Acting timid—this really doesn’t look like Xiao Ce’an.”
Xiao Chiye caught the implication and said, “Gold and silver, if Your Majesty bestows them, I’ll knock my head bloody in thanks. But a noble title won’t do. I entered officialdom six years ago, and in Du Capital I’ve had no achievements worth mentioning. Now I suddenly receive heaven’s favor and become a marquis overnight—I don’t feel steady about it.”
“What’s there to feel unsteady about?” Li Jianheng scoffed. “By sentiment alone, you should have been ennobled long ago. The Grand Secretariat restrains me, nitpicking everything. I never had the chance before. This time, it’s your own ability. Earlier, when Lu Pingyan was ennobled, wasn’t it simply because he repelled the Biansha cavalry at the border? You protected the throne in Du Capital—weren’t you also safeguarding the Great Zhou realm? To me, there’s no difference.”
“If the Grand Secretariat has objections, then there’s no need to rush,” Xiao Chiye said. “We mustn’t wound the hearts of old ministers.”
“Old age just makes them stubborn,” Li Jianheng said. “If they don’t know how to adapt, what use are they? Even those in the flesh trade know to adjust to the seasons, changing their tricks with the weather. Yet those ministers cling to broken remnants all day—utterly dull. This time when I was in danger, lying down there, I thought about many things. Since I’m emperor, crying endlessly won’t solve anything. People have to find ways to live, right? It’s not that I can’t listen to reason—if it makes sense, say it. Am I going to chop their heads off? Take this matter, for example. I want to ennoble you; the Grand Secretary refuses and even drags people before me to make a scene, saying I’m acting rashly. I tossed and turned over this. Listen to them—they say I’m rash!”
As he spoke, Li Jianheng turned back. The golden dragon on his Winged Virtue Crown shimmered, blending with the moonlight in imposing splendor. He did not order Xiao Chiye to rise. After a long pause, he continued.
“I am the emperor. I cannot issue orders today and reverse them tomorrow. Since the edict has been issued, you will accept it. Today you’ve already embarrassed me, but we’re brothers, so I won’t hold it against you. If you keep opposing me like this, though, it won’t be something brothers can settle. Neither of us will look good. All right?”
Xiao Chiye was silent for a moment, then said, “Your Majesty, this cannot be done. Advancing Old General Lu’s title through the Censorate is a good thing, and it’s deserved. But not me. I won’t accept it—for Your Majesty’s sake. I was raised by Your Majesty’s own hand. If I cannot convince the masses in all things, how can I continue to serve Your Majesty? Those who command troops care greatly about face. Give that face to Old General Lu, and I will share in the reflected glory.”
“You refuse again and again. Is it truly for my face, or for your Xiao family’s own face?” Li Jianheng stared at him. “You don’t say it, and you think I truly don’t understand? We brothers bare our hearts to each other, yet you keep treating me like a fool. I reward you for sentiment; you refuse for private gain! I tell you to speak plainly, and you still go in circles with me! Xiao Chiye, do you have any conscience at all!”
Li Jianheng’s shout rang out, echoing faintly through the desolate night.
“You’re afraid of offending Lu Pingyan—why are you so afraid of offending him, huh?!” Li Jianheng flung his sleeve. “And you still dare say you’re loyal to me? Everything in your heart is for yourself! You won’t say it—fine, I’ll say it for you. You’re afraid that offending Lu Pingyan will damage the ties between your two families, making it hard to look out for each other in the future. But I ask you: each of you guards your own frontier—what do you need to look out for each other about?”
Xiao Chiye clenched his fists, the bone ring biting into the web of his thumb.
“You’re all wolves and tigers,” Li Jianheng pointed at Xiao Chiye. “All of you covet Du Capital! I merely tested you, and you revealed your true colors! Collusion over military power—does the Xiao family want to ally with the Lu clan? And then do what? Say it—do what!”
Xiao Chiye suddenly half rose. His build was powerful; kneeling on one knee like this, he resembled a leopard ready to spring. Li Jianheng immediately staggered back several steps, staring at him in shock.
“—Do what? Of course, smash those bald-headed Biansha dogs!” Xiao Chiye’s brows and eyes were fierce as he looked at Li Jianheng. “Six years ago, when Zhongbo was defeated, my elder brother rushed overnight to protect the throne. How perilous was the battle of Cizhou! Lu Guangbai fought three nights straight, spear in hand and dagger clenched between his teeth, before breaking through, then rode without rest to relieve Du Capital. What Your Majesty condemns tonight is the sincere loyalty of the Xiao and Lu families. I refuse the title today—yes, because of Lu Pingyan—but even more because of the unshaken loyalty of all frontier generals. I, Xiao Ce’an, am a useless wastrel, basking in imperial grace. In Du Capital I face neither mortal danger nor the burden of battle. If even I can sit high as a marquis, what should Commander Qi and General Lu, who still endure frontier hardship today, think?”
“In the end, it’s still for your own good name!”
Xiao Chiye spoke every word with ringing force. “I was born a scoundrel, while Your Majesty is a sovereign of a flourishing age. For the sake of such meager merits, if the hearts of the generals toward Your Majesty are broken—who loses more? I, Xiao Ce’an, or Your Majesty?”
Hesitation showed on Li Jianheng’s face.
Xiao Chiye pressed on. “If this truly were a superficial act for colluding with the Lu family, then why would Grand Secretary Hai so forcefully remonstrate? Your Majesty, you may not trust me, but do you not trust Hai Liangyi, who saved the throne three times and was personally named by the late emperor? Your Majesty has encountered danger repeatedly, followed immediately by imbalanced rewards. Whoever is instigating Your Majesty—such a person deserves death!”
Li Jianheng seemed to awaken suddenly. He retreated beneath the eaves and steadied himself against a vermilion pillar. “But the edict has already been issued…”
“Your Majesty is the sovereign father of a new reign. During the earlier mourning period, it was inappropriate to bestow rewards. Now it is the season of spring plowing and the two major court affairs of the Censorate. Why not take this opportunity to grant a general amnesty and, according to the Ministry of War’s merit evaluations, bestow rewards in sequence upon the frontier generals? Advancing Lu Pingyan to Marquis of Biansha may not be appropriate, but given the Lu family’s foremost record of slaying enemies on the frontier, they should be further rewarded with doubled military rations. Last year, Juexi enjoyed a bountiful harvest and the granaries are full. This would avoid additional expenditure from the treasury while also resolving the borderlands’ urgent needs. Commander Qi’s wedding is approaching as well—Your Majesty should reward that too. Elevate Third Miss Hua to the rank of Princess of a Commandery, raising Qidong’s prestige.” Xiao Chiye’s words were earnest, his gaze frank. “You are the lord of ten thousand chariots, the common ruler of all under heaven. If grace is extended in all directions like this, who would harbor discontent?”
When Emperor Xiande ascended the throne, the Empress Dowager held power, and he missed his chance. During his reign, there had been no such grand gesture. What Li Jianheng most urgently wanted now was to prove that he was truly an emperor. His suspicion and readiness to listen to instigation all stemmed from fear—fear of being said to lack virtue worthy of his position. Xiao Chiye’s words struck directly at his heart.
“Good…” Li Jianheng’s face lit up as he stepped forward to meet Xiao Chiye. “Good! Ce’an, get up quickly—the ground is cold!”
Fu Man knelt below, secretly marveling. Who could have imagined that in just a few short hours, Xiao Chiye would seize the momentum to counterattack, turning danger into safety? Without an exact grasp of Li Jianheng’s temperament and mind, this would have been impossible.
The more he thought about it, the happier he became.
Following the Second Young Master—there’s a future here!